by Maine, Miley
When I picked up the rolling pin, Logan came up behind me. He pressed his body behind mine. His chest was bare and I loved the feel of his heated Skin on mine.
“You are so goddamn sexy.” His hands came around my chest to cup my breasts as he kneaded and squeezed my flesh.
I pointed to the rolling pin. “I'll never get finished if you keep touching me. I'm already slower because I only have one working hand.”
That truth was, I wanted him to do this. I didn't want him to stop. And he knew that. “You are going to let me touch you as much as I want.” I quivered under his touch, as my nipples pebbled.
My breathing picked up. My heart thundered. He dropped his arms and went to sit back down.
I grabbed the rolling pin with my one working arm and took my sexual frustration out on that dough. He continued to repeat this pattern the entire time that I baked both pies.
While I was sifting the flour, he got up again. This time he pushed his fingers into my panties.
I couldn't hold on to the sifter. I dropped it into the bowl and leaned forward bracing myself on the countertop with my good elbow.
He did not cut me any slack. There in the kitchen, hIs fingers explored every part of me. My swollen clit, my slick folds, and my dripping pussy.
Then he pulled away. He went to wash his hands in the bathroom, and sat back down again.
I kept baking, and every step was full of desire and aching need. Just after I'd pulled both pies from the oven, and sat them out to cool, Logan came up behind me. He brushed my hair away, and kissed my neck, then gently bit down.
I needed him. The wait had become excruciating. Maybe I wouldn’t have to ask.
I pressed my backside toward his hips, grinding against his cock, hoping he’d get the message.
He took my hips into his hands, and pulled me flush against him. His cock was already rock hard. I arched my back, rubbing against him, creating friction.
“Are you trying to torture me?” I asked.
“No. I intend to follow through. But I had to wait until you were done baking.” He sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “I thought you’d never finish.”
“Whose fault was that?”
“Mine. I take full responsibility,” he said, pushing the fabric of my boy shorts down under the swell of my ass, so that he could palm my bottom with no barrier.
I moaned. What did he mean by that? Did he want to have sex, or not? Was it going to be soon? I had no clue.
I was going to be bold, and try being honest about what I wanted. “I want to try everything with you, while I’m here.” That was as close as I could get to asking while we weren’t in bed, since we weren’t already talking about it.
He ground his erection against my bottom. “Ah. You want me to fuck you from behind.”
I nodded. Thank God he understood.
“You can tell me what you want,” he said. “I might not do it. But you can say it.”
I shook my head.
“Okay then. You’ll be at my mercy.”
He swept me into his arms once again. I loved the feeling I had when he carried me in his strong arms, as if I weighed nothing.
He put me down, standing on the floor of the bedroom. He gently pushed on my back. “Lean over. Chest on the bed. This will be easiest on your arm. If it wasn’t broken, I’d have you on the floor in front of the fireplace, with your cute little ass in the air.”
I shivered.
I wanted that too, but this was going to have to be good enough.
He peeled my panties down all the way to my knees, but didn’t take them off, leaving me exposed. Somehow from this angle it felt different.
He spent a good minute just squeezing the globes of my ass.
“Step apart. Spread your legs.”
Once again, I loved it. I loved every second of him looking at my pussy.
How was I this shameless? I rubbed my chest against the bed, feeling my nipples tighten all over again.
He pushed one finger inside. There was no resistance. At all. Already I was dripping wet.
“If you lived here, I’d have you like this every day. When I came back from work, you’d be naked from the waist down, bent over the kitchen table, waiting on me. When I opened the front door, the first thing I’d see would be your naked pussy, shiny and wet for me. I’d walk in, unzip my pants and slide my cock right into these lips.” He brushed his thumb over my clit.
I couldn’t have stopped my orgasm if I tried. I screamed as my pussy contracted, rolling in waves as I came.
“Good God,” he breathed. I barely touched you.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I wasn’t ashamed. I wanted more.
I tipped my hips up, not wanting him to stop.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not stopping.”
Sometimes it was like he could read my mind.
He didn’t make me wait any longer. He grabbed a condom and put it on, and then he pressed his thick length into my body. He was right. The angle changed everything.
He was deeper inside me, and I could feel every inch of him as he slid in. He put his hands on my hips and began to rock into me. As he picked up speed, I moaned.
“Put your hand on your nipples,” he said. “Then squeeze.” I did, and the feeling intensified the sparks from my pussy.
He continued to fuck me, and I let myself be taken. I gave myself over to him and his cock.
“What do you think? You like being fucked from behind?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “I do. It’s good.” That was an understatement. It was mind-blowing. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was already close again, and he hadn’t even touched my clit.
He continued to rock into me, and then finally he put his hand between my legs. One touch, and I was gone again. I screamed. My head spun. And I came.
By the time his cock was pulsing and he was riding out his own pleasure, I had already passed out.
* * *
After the best sex I’d ever had, which was amazing since it was only my third time, I took a long nap. When I woke up, I took a quick shower to rinse off the stickiness from both my baking and my time in bed with Logan. It was a little chilly so I actually got dressed in a sweatshirt and yoga pants.
In the kitchen, I found Logan eating part of my pie.
I swatted his arm with a dishtowel. “Hey. You started without me.”
He grinned. “I thought you’d sleep all day.”
I stepped back in surprise. That was maybe the first grin I’d ever seen from him. I’d seen him smile because he was amused, or because he was teasing me, but I’d never seen just this simple, pure expression of happiness.
I met his grin with one of my own. “So you thought you’d gobble up all of my hard work.”
“Well I was planning to save you a piece. But now I might eat it all.”
He reached out and trailed his fingers down my arm. “How are you feeling?”
“ Good. Rested.”
“You're not too sore? I wasn't too rough?”
“No. You were just right.”
He smiled to himself, and kept digging into my pie.
I knocked my hip into his shoulder. “Hey since you're scarfing down my hard work, do you want to make some Christmas candy with me?” I had no idea what his answer would be. He'd gone from having nothing to do with Christmas for reasons I couldn't contemplate, to paying for Christmas decorations and hauling a Christmas tree for me through the snow.
“What the hell. I guess so.” He patted my bottom. “Although after that fucking, I’m surprised you can stand.”
.“I like it when I can feel where you’ve been.”
He closed his eyes. “I really might not survive you.”
“Same here.” I kissed his cheek. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”
I had purchased all of the necessary ingredients to make Christmas candy at the grocery store. But I never made it alone before. I'd always made it with my mother, my grandmother and my sister. My brother tried to help, bu
t so far he just made a mess.
That was one reason I wanted Logan's help. The steps were less familiar to me than pie baking, and I thought I might need an extra set of hands. Plus I thought he might actually enjoy himself.
On the menu I had homemade peanut butter cups, and Oreo balls, and peanut brittle.
Logan turned out to be a surprisingly good helper. He questioned everything, but he was meticulous about following directions.
“Now pour the butter into that bowl--” Suddenly, Logan’s hand came up to cover my mouth. “Shhh.”
I closed my mouth and waited.
Every muscle in his body was rigid.
“I heard something,” he said.
Something cracked outside. Loud.
Logan didn’t speak again, but he grabbed me around the waist and ran with me, tossing me behind the couch. “Stay down. Don’t move.”
He grabbed a handgun from a holster he’d had on the counter and took off.
“Logan!”
He didn’t turn back. He was already gone.
22
Logan
I rushed out into the snow, but there was no one there.
I was taking no chances. I would not let them get to Bethany. I went back inside and found her huddled behind the couch. I pulled her to her feet gently.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I put my hand above her cast where the worst of the bruising had been. I’d taken so much care to be gentle with her over the past few days, and then I’d had to toss her behind a couch.
But it was far better to jostle her than to let her be shot.
She looked shaken but otherwise “I’m okay. I'm fine. What is going on?”
She was going to want to know every detail, but I couldn’t spare enough time to tell her what all was going on. “We have to go. We have to leave right now.”
“Why?”
“I don't have time to explain. Come on, we're getting in the truck.”
“Let me get my stuff.”
“There's no time. Your purse is in the truck, that'll have to do.” All she needed to fly home on a commercial flight or stay in a hotel room was her driver’s license. If I was still alive, I’d pay for it. She’d need her phone too. I raced in the bedroom and grabbed it, stuffing it in her purse.
Thank God she was dressed after our last encounter. She was still standing there, not moving. I wrapped my body around hers and started moving her forward towards the door.
The snow was really coming down now. We'd be safer on the snowmobile than in the truck but I wasn't going to have her out in the open in case there was a sniper nearby.
I opened the driver side and pushed her in. “Climb over, but hurry. Buckle up, but don't sit up, keep your head down.”
“Logan.” Her hands were trembling. She wasn’t moving.
I had to remember. She wasn’t a CIA asset, or an informant, or a contact who’d been designated to provide information for an investigation. She was a wealthy, educated young woman from a ritzy neighborhood in Little Rock. This wasn’t familiar to her, she didn’t know the protocol.
She’d never been briefed on what to do when someone was chasing her.
“I told you I don't have time for questions.”
Finally she did as I asked, she leaned forward at the waist, putting her chest on her knees. That way no one could see her through the window. Not that there was much visibility with the force of the flakes coming down.
I peeled out of the driveway. I knew better. I never should have let her stay here. She would have been safer in the hospital. She would have been safer if I put her on that flight with her friends. Even if she was still high on morphine.
I drove as quickly as I dared. I still had to go fairly slow because of the ice that had built up on the road.
I was going to check her into one of the high-rise hotels on the resort. She'd be safe. She could lock the door and not let anyone in. There'd be a concierge and a receptionist who wouldn't give out her number.
We drove in silence. To her credit, she kept her head down and her mouth shut. Which helped me concentrate on driving.
Ten minutes later we were in front of the Pine Hills Resort. It was nestled on the mountain, right next to a ski lift and a restaurant. I tugged on her arm. “Come on, hurry.”
“Where are we?”
“Pine Hills. It’s a Resort hotel. You'll be safe here.”
I would have preferred to carry her through the lobby and try to shield her with my body. But I couldn’t. I had to remember to straighten up, and walk like a normal person. If I came in there holding her, or telling her what to do, they’d assume she wasn’t supposed to be with me. They’d think I was the bad guy and call the police. They’d been trained to recognize traffickers, and that was great. But for me, that would only make things more complicated.
I straightened up and adopted my best gentleman’s smile. I had not used it in over a year. Now I was a genuine mountain man, I probably couldn't get away with business attire. My skin was weather-worn, my face was scruffy, my hair was longer, and my muscles were no longer lithe and lean, but they were bulky from all the physical labor.
A year ago, I’d have been able to put on a suit and tie, and blend into a board meeting, a business conference, or a black tie gala. I’d have been out of place in a cabin.
“Hi, I need a room for two.”
Bethany stared blankly ahead while I paid for the room.
I must have still had a little bit of charm. The clerk only smiled at me and pushed two room keys across the desk.
“Come on, let's go upstairs.” Deliberately I forced myself to let go of Bethany. Even in the elevators, I had to look normal, thanks to heightened social awareness. If I looked like I was dragging her upstairs, the other people staying in the hotel would call the hotel manager, who’d call the cops. The last thing I wanted to do was appear like I was involved in a trafficking operation.
I grimaced. That had never been my area of expertise but I had seen plenty of the case files while I was working in the agency, and Bethany and I could easily fit the profile.
The difference -- I would die before I let anyone take Bethany, for any reason.
Bethany glared at me which was good. She looked like a pissed-off girlfriend who was going to let her boyfriend have it, instead of a traumatized young woman.
In the elevator I shook my head, preempting any questions. “I'll tell you everything I can once we’re in the room.” Of course there was a surveillance camera in the elevator, recording everything we said or did.
In the room, I checked for cameras and bugs. I turned on the shower and pulled her into the bathroom. Putting my mouth next to her ear I started talking. “Get in the shower.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I have a reason.”
“You’re coming in too?”
“Yes.”
Once she’d undressed, I grabbed the unused trash bag from the kitchenette area and tied it over her arm. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do. “Keep that away from the spray.”
She nodded and got in.
“Why are we in the shower?”
“Because there are no bugs in here. We can’t be overheard.” I wouldn’t worry her, but if there were any devices in my shoes or clothes, the shower took care of those too. It was an old habit, but a good one.
“But why are we running?” she asked.
There was no point in sugar-coating it. “I have enemies. Bad ones.”
“From the military?”
Close enough. I didn’t plan to disclose any details about my time in the CIA. “Yes. And They’re after me.”
Distress rolled over her face. Her green eyes were shadowed. But she still looked so beautiful with the water dripping off her creamy skin. I touched her cheek. This could be the last time I ever saw her. I could hardly stand the thought.
“Why?” she asked.
Of course she wanted to know the details. “Because of the missions I ran while I was overse
as.” I kissed each of her eyelids. “Now you stay here. Keep the door bolted. Don’t let anyone in, not even room service.”
She clutched my arms. “Why can’t you stay here?”
“They’ll come for me.”
“I know. So won’t you be safer in here too?”
“No. I have to find them, and face them head on.”
“Logan! No.” She grabbed me, and flung her arms around my neck. “Can't we call the police?
“That will only make things worse. The police can't stop these guys. These guys don't care about collateral damage. They're not scared of being arrested here. They’ll have a plan for it.”
Bethany nodded. Her eyes watered. “Please be careful.”
“I will.” I kissed her on the forehead. “And you be safe.” If something happened to her it would crush me. Far worse than Isobel. Isobel had known what she was getting into. She’d charged head first into the mayhem that was part of our career, just like Cameron and I did. It was her job. Her duty.
But Bethany was innocent. She liked normal stuff like snow skiing, apples pies, and Christmas cookies. She had friends and a family who adored her, and she was so very young.
She did not belong in the world I had inhabited for so long.
She pressed her mouth against mine.
I didn’t think I could get turned on under the circumstances. But I was wrong.
I was not fucking her. I wanted to show her the respect she deserved. There in that shower, I felt desperate for the first time in a year. I needed her to live, and I wanted to live too.
I didn’t have to be with her, but I needed her to go on and finish college, go to graduate school and donate time and money to all those charities she was so fond of. I needed her to hang out with her ridiculous friends and buy Christmas junk and decorate for holiday parties. If she could do that, then I could go on.
Although I probably wouldn’t survive this.
23
Bethany
I kissed him, and then I started to cry.
It was involuntary. It was like I was possessed; I couldn't control it at all.
