by Karr, Kim
With a deep breath, I tuned them out and went back into the living room, where I sat on the sofa and watched Michael and this man discuss something heated. When they went out the back door, I took advantage of the coast being clear.
Frazzled and done, I slipped out the front door without saying goodbye to anyone. Peyton was waiting for me outside and I didn’t want to chance another uncomfortable conversation with anyone today. I’d call Michael tomorrow and explain. Mental exhaustion had long since set in and I just wanted to go home. I needed to see Logan.
Peyton drove a silver Prius, and she had parked as close to the house as the trail of cars would allow. I walked down the sidewalk in my black pumps that were demanding to be taken off, and when I saw her flash her lights, I was thankful I didn’t have much farther to go.
Bracing myself for an onslaught of questions I didn’t want to have to answer, I swung open the passenger door and collapsed into the seat.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
The concern in her voice was hard to deny and it eased my agitation. “I will be. I just want to get home and out of these clothes.”
She pressed the gas and started driving. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I looked down at the new black trench I had bought—guaranteed to repel the rain—and surprisingly found myself wanting to tell her everything. “I do, Peyton, just not today.”
“Okay. No pressure from me,” she said.
Mascara came away on my fingertips when I rubbed my eyes, suddenly more tired than I’d felt in a very long time. To avoid the awkward silence, I simply said, “Like I said in my text, the new nanny’s car broke down and Michael needed his back.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I get it. He’s still an asshole.”
“Peyton, he’s not. He wants the nanny to be able to take Clementine where she needs to go. I get it. And besides, it feels wrong driving my dead sister’s car.”
The traffic was light but still she eased up on the gas, perhaps to give us more time. “As opposed to driving your drug addict sister’s car?”
I hated that I couldn’t tell her the truth. Tell her that Michael had told everyone my sister was in rehab when in reality, he had no idea where she had been. But that information was linked to the missing drugs, and the fewer people who knew about that situation, the better.
Michael and I had gone to the police station separately this morning. We were both told trace amount of drugs were found in Lizzy’s system but there was evidence of long-term addiction. This only reaffirmed the preliminary police report that she was, more than likely, a victim of a drug deal gone bad.
During his visit, Michael had to fess up to not knowing her whereabouts for the past three and a half months, and that didn’t sit well with him. It was on record that Lizzy wasn’t in drug rehab, and now he would have to watch what he said during his campaign so as not to contradict what he had already told others. Of course, he wasn’t talking about it to me.
That was all I knew.
However, I was certain he had to be a suspect.
He hadn’t told me that, though.
He hadn’t told me much.
Peyton’s eyes were on me. “Elle, did you hear me?”
When I turned to look at her, out of nowhere, I found myself laughing so hard I couldn’t even get my words out in one cohesive sentence. “When you . . . put it . . . that way . . . I guess it shouldn’t really matter.”
Peyton reached her hand over and took mine. It wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. It was the laughter that prevented me from speaking; it was the sobs that had gotten stuck in my throat. “It’s okay, Elle, let it out.”
If only she could really understand, but then again, I wasn’t even certain I did.
My life had changed so much in the past three months. Before coming to Boston, my biggest worry was what take-out restaurant to eat from and what television show I wanted to accompany the meal. With everything that was happening around me, my life should have felt tilted, off balance, but instead it felt more right than it ever had. And I knew why. I also knew I had to tell Logan everything. I’d intended to tell him about how broken I was the night he came back to me, but then he told me about Lizzy and I just couldn’t.
Sitting here, thinking through everything, I realized Logan was the only real thing in my life. Maybe the only real thing I’d ever had in my life, and I couldn’t lose him. I had to have faith in him. I couldn’t continue to keep secrets from him—not about Michael and not about me.
Tomorrow would be the day of reckoning.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?” Peyton asked when she pulled up to my place.
“No, I’m fine. It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted and just want to go to bed.”
“Okay, call me tomorrow if you need anything. I’ll be at the boutique for a few hours in the morning doing inventory.”
“Peyton, I don’t want you going there alone. I finished everything yesterday. There’s nothing left for you to do.”
“There’s always something to do and you know it. Besides, I refuse to let some asshole scare me. But if it makes you feel better, Declan doesn’t have to work until the afternoon and he’s coming with me.”
I put my arms out and hugged her fiercely. “I’m so sorry.”
She returned my hug. “Stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault and I’m fine.”
I drew in a breath and tried to give her a smile. “Thank you, for everything.”
As I got out, she yelled, “Don’t forget, call me if you need anything.”
My eyes landed on Logan’s vehicle and my heart started to thump wildly. “I will.”
The Range Rover was parked under the trees across the street, but I still saw it. He was here. Waiting for me.
The squeak of my front door made me jump. When I turned around, it was open and Logan was standing there watching me, one shoulder pressed against the doorframe. His beautiful hair was slicked back and I knew he must have recently showered. Wearing a pair of black track pants, a white T-shirt, no shoes or socks, and with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t have looked sexier. My pulse started to race with each step I took closer to him. I had really missed him today despite our earlier argument.
All I could do was hope he wasn’t still upset. As I got closer, I just wasn’t certain. There was a blank look on his face, but that was all I saw. The brooding side I’d seen this morning was definitely gone.
“You’re home,” I said with a smile.
A slight nod acknowledged what was obvious and a hand on the small of my back guided me inside.
As soon as my feet hit the wooden floor of the front entrance, I reached back and took one, then the other, shoe off.
I could feel his eyes on me and once my shoes were off, his hands were on the front of my coat and unbuttoning my trench with an energy that electrified the air. “I’m sorry about the way I left things this morning,” he whispered in my ear.
A thrill of excitement ran through me as his warm breath swooshed down my neck.
Like a whirlwind, I turned and flung my arms around his neck, all but collapsing against his strong body. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have listened to your concerns.”
In that way he knows how to make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters, he took my face between his strong, powerful hands. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on? Why did Peyton drive you home? Did the Mercedes break down? Why wouldn’t you have called me?”
My tears were like a waterfall and although I tried to speak, my words were utterly incomprehensible. It had been such a long day, and I thought I would be much stronger about today’s events than I actually had been.
Logan clutched me to his chest and gently stroked my hair. “Shhh . . . don’t cry. I know how hard today must have been for you. That’s why I wanted to be there for you. That’s why I was there at a distance. It wasn’t because I thought you weren’t safe, but because I wanted to be able to comfort you i
f you needed it.”
If that just didn’t make me cry even harder. “I love you. I can’t lose you.”
He pulled back and gripped my upper arms. “Hey, where’s this coming from? You’re not going to lose me.”
“Besides Clementine, you’re all I have left in this world. Without you, I’d be practically all alone.” The thought made me shudder and I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“Hey, look at me.”
I opened my eyes to see those hazel pools gazing at me. I felt like it had been so long since he’d held me.
“I love you. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do.”
I nodded. I knew he did, but would he still when I confessed what I had yet to tell him?
His fingers went back to unbuttoning my coat. “Let’s get this off.”
My coat peeled off easily, but the revelations from the day would stay with me forever. Out of his arms, I could think more clearly. It was as if my emotions were running on high octane. Recognizing this, I went to sit on the steps to talk to him from a distance. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. “About the Mercedes, Clementine’s new nanny’s car is in the shop and Michael is going back to work Monday, and he needed it so Clementine wasn’t left at home stranded.”
Sugarcoating the issue by not telling him that Michael had asked for the car back wasn’t the smartest idea but I didn’t want to upset Logan, and I knew explaining the situation the way I had with Peyton would. Tomorrow I’d tell him everything; tonight I needed him. It was selfish, but for once that’s what I wanted to be.
He stepped forward and crouched down in front of me. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. “You hated that car anyway. You can drive mine until we go get you a new one.”
My voice was still shaky with tears. “What will you drive?”
“My old man’s license is still suspended, so I’ll take his car.”
Distance had sounded like a good idea a minute ago but now that he was so close, I just couldn’t keep my hands off him. My palms slid from his chest to his well-defined shoulders. “Are you sure?”
That long, lean body eased forward and I found myself lying back against the stairs with him hovering over me. “There are a lot of things I’m not sure about, Elle, but you aren’t one of them.”
Breathless, I found it hard to talk, to think. “I meant that you love that Range Rover.”
“I know what you meant,” he said, his mouth moving close to mine.
“I was thinking of getting a Prius like Peyton’s,” I babbled. “It’s really cute.”
“Whatever you want. Give me a few weeks to get the money together, and we’ll go pick one out.”
I shoved him back. “You aren’t buying me a car. That’s not what I meant. I meant as soon as I can save some money.”
Ignoring my little outburst, he stood and reached out a hand. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”
Butterflies swarmed in my belly as I took his hand.
Connected, he led us up the stairs, through my room, and then stopped at the closed bathroom door.
Perplexed, I waited for him to turn around.
When he did, his smile alone practically seduced me.
I had no idea what we were doing outside my bathroom door but with the way he was looking at me, I didn’t care if we were fixing the rattling pipes.
Dropping his hold on me, he grasped the old glass knob and pushed the door open to my tiny bathroom.
I couldn’t believe what I saw.
The old-fashioned black-and-white tile floor was aglow with dozens of small red tea candles carefully placed around the perimeter. The claw-foot tub was filled with water and red rose petals were floating on the surface. There was a bottle of wine with a single glass beside it on the marble counter that held the sink.
My hands flew to my mouth. “It’s beautiful.”
A shyness crossed his face. I’d seen it a few times, but it wasn’t until right now that I figured out what caused it. He was nervous when he did anything even slightly romantic. And, God, if I didn’t find that utterly adorable. “You think?”
“I know.”
Those magical fingers started to unzip my simple black shift. “I wanted to do something to make you feel better.”
A shiver rocked my body as his hands glided up my back to my shoulders to slip the fabric of my dress down. One, then the other, and then it fell to the ground and left me standing in my bra, underwear, and hose.
It felt like the room was spinning, but it was me. He’d spun me back toward him and we were moving in a small circle. My head on his shoulder. His arms around me. Mine around him. No, we weren’t just moving, we were dancing. Dancing right in the middle of my bathroom.
There wasn’t any music, but we didn’t need it as we danced to the beat of our own thumping hearts.
As if the song was about to end, Logan stopped our movement and unclasped my bra, making my heart race even faster. “The water will be cold if you wait much longer,” he whispered.
I looked up into heavy-lidded eyes. “Then I’d better get in,” I said as I stepped back. Feeling seductive, I ran my hands down my body to my thighs and began to slide my hose down, slowly, seductively, leaving my skimpy panties on.
Logan sucked in a breath as he watched me. He had drifted over toward the small vanity and was leaning against it.
Nine at night and I found myself doing my first quasi striptease. My thumbs hooked into the sides of my panties and I eased them down even slower than I had with my hose before I stepped out of them.
Logan’s track pants did nothing to hide the sign of his arousal. Knowing I could do that to him made me feel powerful and I wanted to see just how far over the edge I could take him.
My pulse racing, I stepped into the lukewarm water of the tub. The water temperature was irrelevant because it was about a million degrees in this small space. I slid down at what normally would have been the foot of the tub, but I wanted Logan to have a bird’s-eye view of me and I also still wanted to be able to see him.
Once I was fully submerged, I let my legs drift apart as seductively as I could. “Aren’t you coming in?”
His lips parted and his tongue snuck out to lick around them. “The plan was to pour you a glass of wine and let you relax in private.”
I bit my lip. “I’m not thirsty and I don’t want to be alone.”
Logan leaned back and gripped the counter.
I let my hands roam my body.
His eyes were on me like a hawk’s.
My hands drifted down a bit farther. “See something you like?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“Come in.”
He shook his head. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”
His command was as much unexpected as expected. I knew I was headed that way the moment I took my hose off, but actually touching myself was another thing. It’s not that I hadn’t masturbated before. I’d done that and a whole lot more. But every first time with Logan made it feel like my first time all over again. And in a way it was. With him I felt everything. Every ounce of pleasure, every intense touch, every small kiss. Whereas before him I felt like I was removed from the act, with him I felt like the star.
Sometimes the best way to do something is just to drop your insecurities and plunge forward.
He whispered my name, “Elle.”
My gaze swung to his.
“Touch yourself,” he clarified in a guttural tone.
I didn’t make him wait. My fingers drifted down my belly, the water lapping over my breasts with the slight movement.
His eyes started fluttering closed, his lashes dark on his cheekbones. “Not there. Not yet. Your beautiful tits. Start with those.”
The rasp in his voice thrilled me. I had never actually fondled my own breasts. I couldn’t imagine I’d feel anything by doing that, but I complied and palmed each of my breasts with my hands.
Logan’s cock had jutted straight out by now and there was no denying how much this was turning him on. I was going to do this and more. I was going to push him right over the edge.
“Use your thumbs.” His voice was hoarse. Low.
My thumbs passed over my nipples as the water rippled around them and when they became small hard peaks, I started pinching them. A little pain. Just a little.
Tiny pricks of pleasure radiated around them and I couldn’t believe it.
His eyes were watching my every movement. His breathing was ragged. I could see the rise and fall of his chest.
I wasn’t sure if it was his reaction to what I was doing or the act itself that was turning me on, but I supposed it didn’t really matter. I knew if I had been doing this alone, I wouldn’t feel a smidgen of what I was feeling now.
Feeling bold, I left one hand where it was and let the other drift down and find the nodule of my clit. Working them in the same manner, I began to feel the same small fissures of pleasure below my waist that I was feeling above it. Sparks tingled along my entire torso.
“Does that feel good?” His voice shifted again. It was a little huskier. A little lower.
Such an incredible turn-on.
Working both small, tight buds at the same time, I found myself almost panting when I answered, “Yes.”
His eyes were trained on my pussy. “Tell me what you feel.”
I pushed my thighs apart as wide as I could, slipping the leg farther from him over the edge of the tub.
His gasp sounded like a growl.
Soon, I needed more and inserted a finger inside myself. “I feel your cock inside me, moving, in, out, in, out.”
The face he made was utterly sensual.
My hand was moving faster and the water splashed out of the tub.
“Fuck,” he muttered. He moved closer and sat on the edge of the tub. The end where the water controls were, at my feet. I thought he might come even closer. Put his hands in the water, his fingers inside me, but he stayed where he was.
My heart skipped against my chest.
“Are you going to come?” he asked.
It took some effort to speak. I had to lick my lips first. “I might. I’m not sure.”
