A Backwater Blessing

by Kris Michaels

  Logan turned and leaned into Cole, hiding her face against his chest. He slid his hand up her back and held her close. A small movement of muscle lifted the weapon which had been hanging by his leg. “Leave now, and if you value your pathetic life, never come back or I will end you.

  Cole held Logan to his chest as he watched the man lift his hands into the air and carefully back toward the front door. He could feel her tears on his chest. Rage burned through his body and demanded he crush the bastard who’d made his strong, beautiful woman cry. Jesus, the south had more than its fair share of misogynistic sons-of-bitches. He walked to the front door with her tucked to his side and watched the man drive away. He’d never forget the plate number. The bastard had better drive like an old woman on Sunday. Cole locked the door and walked them over to the couch. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. They sat together for several long minutes while he stroked her hair.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Logan pushed close and shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Having a past? Having an asshole of an ex-boyfriend who can only feel good about himself if you feel bad? All this is rather mundane if you think about it.”

  Her response might have been a laugh or sob. She pulled away from his chest and swiped at her cheeks. “No, I’m sorry I got you all smelly again. You’ve showered, and I haven’t.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, odiferous, aren’t you? Okay, beautiful, shower time for you.” He forced a levity into his voice he didn’t feel. She obviously wanted to change the subject and probably needed some time to erect her emotional barriers. He wouldn’t force her to talk, although the fact that she didn’t bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

  When she headed up the stairs, he started pacing. The bastard. Cole dropped to the couch and raked his fingers through his hair. The son-of-a-bitch had hurt Logan. She could’ve easily taken the man down and disarmed him. Cole witnessed her busting drug crazed meth-heads and had seen her beat the ever-loving crap out of her sparring partner during hand-to-hand training. The woman kicked ass on a regular basis. But she hadn’t stood up to Beau. When it came to her ex, she lost the strength he’d admired. It was as if the woman he knew folded into herself. Dammit. This feeling of helplessness sucked. He should have been downstairs when the bastard walked into the house. Logan. Was. His. The words interrupted Cole’s mental rant. Logan was his. His? Oh hell, when did that happen?

  Chapter 7

  Why did Beau have to come back and ruin absolutely everything? Logan pulled off her workout clothes and stepped into the tub. Feeding the curtain around the rod, she turned on the shower and sat down holding her head in her hands. Seeing Beau standing in her front room had shattered her. Again. All the effort, the counseling sessions and the healing—gone the moment she turned and saw him in her kitchen. He had been everything to her. She almost worshipped him. He was a firefighter. So handsome and attentive. He was everything she thought she wanted. They dated and for a time everything was fine, but Beau had a mean side when they were alone.

  He blamed her for his increasingly frequent episodes of impotence. When he was frustrated—which was all the time, he’d lash out at her. He would hurt her with words and with his fists. He sneered that she wasn’t womanly enough for him or any man. Logan knew, on a fundamental level, what he accused her of wasn’t right. She knew it couldn’t all be her fault. Yet, the pain and the memories of the abuse remained.

  Four years ago, without saying goodbye and without any warning, Beau had left. She’d pieced her life back together, talked to a professional counselor and tried to understand why he would want to hurt her so badly. Try as she might, she didn’t understand. Simply stated, he was a deadly poison. She realized how fortunate she’d been when he left. If he’d stayed, he probably would have killed her.

  Logan sat in the tub and let the water rain over her. The pain of the past floated around her like a fog. The gentle noise of shower would drown out the sounds of her crying, so she let go. The water ran cold, and she began to shiver before she turned the spray off and stepped out. She had to pull herself together before she could face Cole.

  How Cole stayed downstairs, he’d never know. With every fiber in his body, he wanted to go up and make sure she was all right, to soothe the pain the bastard had caused. He sensed Logan needed time to deal with a boatload of baggage. He stood at the base of the stairs and listened to her muffled sobs. What could he do? Not like he could barge into her bathroom…well, he could, but he wouldn’t take away her privacy. He’d give her the time she needed. He didn’t think she’d appreciate a knight on a white horse slaying her dragons. His girl was a fighter. Somehow, he needed to let her know he’d have her back when she wanted to take out that waste of semen.

  Instead of riding in to the rescue, he shucked the fresh oysters she’d brought home with her and put them on ice. After adding all the condiments to a tray, he opened a bottle of wine and put the spread in the living room. The sun had set while he paced the floor.

  “You look anxious.” He glanced up at her as she walked down the stairs.

  “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep myself from these oysters.”

  She chuckled and walked into the room. Sitting down, she poured two glasses of wine and curled back in the corner of the couch with hers. “I owe you an explanation.”

  Cole took the other wine glass and sat down near her. He shook his head, “No, you don’t. It’s obvious the guy has issues.”

  Logan took a drink of the wine and chuckled sarcastically, “Issues, yes…a myriad of issues.” She looked past him out the window and released a deep sigh. “He was my first, and only, serious boyfriend.”

  Cole reached for her leg and laid his large hand over her calf. “Bella, you don’t have to tell me anything.” Her grey blue eyes showed the sadness and vulnerability he’d seen when she’d burned herself the first night.

  “I still don’t want you to call me Bella.” Her sad little chuckle almost hurt him more than the look of defeat in her eyes.

  “He blamed me for his inability to perform sexually, and he took his rage out on me. I was young. I thought I was in love. I tried so hard to prove to him I could be enough. I did whatever he asked of me, but it was rarely enough to keep him…in the game. He left four years ago. Just left. No goodbye, no reason.”

  Cole’s thumb stroked her calf as he waited, allowing her to speak when she wanted. Finally, she shuddered and seemed to physically shake off the past. Logan glanced at the fresh oysters on ice and smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go for a walk on the beach.”

  Cole stood and extended a hand to her. “Good, let’s go.”

  “You don’t have to come. I’ll be okay.” She set the wine glass on the table and turned to leave.

  “I want to come. I understand you’re upset, but I don’t think you should be alone with the ghosts haunting you right now. We’ll walk. Talking is optional. Okay?” He extended his hand and waited.

  Whether she knew it or not, she was his. He didn’t know what to do with the possessiveness running through his veins, but he couldn’t deny the truth. Sometime in the last three weeks, while playing house, their cover story had become his reality. He’d fallen for his cover. I am so fucked.

  Logan put her hand in his and they walked across the street to the beach. The moon rose over the massive bridge spanning the inlet to the back bay. Headlights shot lances of white light through the dark as cars traveled the expansive concrete creation, but the lapping of the water on the beach was the only sound they heard.

  The cool, wet sand under his bare feet and her hand in his became a balm for the rush of testosterone boiling under his skin. He untangled their fingers and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked. She stopped and leaned into him and he wrapped her up in his arms.

  “Why are you doing this, Cole? Why do you care? I’m your cover. Nothing more”

  He shook his head and breathed out a huge sigh.
“You are my cover, but I count you as someone I care about. I care that someone hurt you. I care when men treat you like a piece of meat. I care you don’t have friends, and I care you cried alone in the bathroom tonight. You are so much more than you allow people to see. You’re beautiful.” He placed his hand over her heart. “Inside and out.”

  He felt the tension release from her as her body molded into his. “He didn’t see me.” Her head lifted and the moonlight softly illuminated her face as she peered up at him. “Thank you for looking hard enough to see me.”

  The small crack in her voice when she thanked him was “the straw”. At that moment he could see the through the walls which protected her from the world. He saw her loneliness, her pain, her silent suffering. He’d fallen past the point of recovery, right here in Podunk, Mississippi.

  He lowered his lips to hers, brushing against her full bottom lip. She trembled under the kiss. He dove into her, his tongue plunging into her mouth. They’d kissed before, but those had been in front of an audience. This? This was all about them and no one else. No case, no cover and no audience to perform for. His Bella swamped his senses—her taste, her scent and the way her toned, sexy body shivered when he ran his hand from her hip to her breast.

  “Oh God, what you do to me.” He took her hand and placed it where he raged with need. Her startled gasp did all sorts of things for his ego. He cupped her face and sipped at her lips as her hand rubbed against him. The blessed friction of her hand and the denim of his jeans was almost enough to send him over the edge.

  He panted against her lips. “You’re so beautiful. I need you.” He lowered his forehead to rest it against hers. “God we are miles from your house and a bed.”

  Her hands lifted to the waistband of his jeans and popped the button. “Are we alone?” Cole’s synapses literally fried with the implications of her question. He glanced up and down the beach. Not a soul in sight. “Yeah.”

  She dropped to her knees and freed his cock and balls before he registered the shock of her going down. Her hot, wet tongue swirled around his cockhead. Eyes slammed shut, head thrown back and hands grasping her hair, he released a possessive growl of lust. Her hot tongue laved the underside of his cock and her hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently. Fuck, the woman was going to kill him.

  He forced his eyes open and took in the image of her working his shaft. Her eyes lifted to him as she opened her mouth and…ohmyfuckinggodisshe….yes! Never before had a woman deep throated his entire shaft but, holy hell, he felt her chin against his balls and his cock down her hot, tight throat. Fuck, he couldn’t stop. He pulled out and thrust back in as gently as he could. Logan grabbed his thighs and pulled him toward her. Oh shit, message received, baby. Cole fucked her mouth as she massaged his balls. Pure bliss. A massive orgasm boiled deep and hot. A well simmered at the base of his spine before it radiated up sharp torrents of sensation. The best blow job he’d ever…damn…

  “Bella, you need to stop, babe. I’m going to…”

  Her hands on his thighs pulled him against her once again and he shot. The electric shock of the current slamming from his balls through his cock coupled with the sounds of her sucking him off prolonged his release, and he fucking loved it. Every second. When coherent thoughts actually registered, he had to pull away from her tongue. The sensations were too much, and the bliss edged toward pain.

  Cole pulled her up and wrapped his hands through her hair. He lowered his lips and plunged into her mouth as if his life depended on it. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, both feeding on their combined taste. Unfortunately, he had to breathe. It was the only reason he pulled away from her.

  “Was it okay? I mean...” Her breathless whisper floated to him on the ocean breeze.

  He wrapped around her as tight as he could. “Bella, it was magnificent. You are magnificent.” The tension in her shoulders released. He kissed her hair before he whispered, “Come on, beautiful, I want you and not on the sandy beach. Not a fan of grit.”

  Her carefree laugh landed like music on his heart.

  Chapter 8

  Logan pushed her foot out from underneath the blanket seeking cooler air. Damn air conditioner better not be broken again. A barely lifted eyelid validated darkness in the room. Too early to be this warm…even in Mississippi. Logan tossed the lightweight cover back and stilled immediately when her arm touched the man behind her. Cole. The memories flooding into her rapidly awakening consciousness explained the tropical warmth encompassing her.

  His arm snaked around her and pulled her back against him, but his breathing steadied as he drifted deeper into his slumber. Last night had been a marathon of the most wonderful love making she could ever imagine. He’d been so kind, so gentle and had shown her what it actually meant to make love.

  Love? Logan closed her eyes and sighed. Yeah, on her part it was definitely love. She’d screwed this assignment up. Once the case was closed, he’d be gone, and she’d be stuck nursing another broken heart. Beau had broken her heart with malice and hatred. Cole’s leaving would shatter her heart with unrequited love. He defined what she wanted in a man. The gentle tender love wrapped in a man who exuded strength and could protect her from the abuses of life. Yet, the assignment was a stopover for him. They had no common ground. His future was dynamic and bright with possibilities. Her laid-back life on the coast and his life in the fast lane would never cross except for this moment in time. He’d go back to build his career and she’d continue as she always had. Eventually. After she’d rebuilt and refortified the walls she’d let him get behind.

  A loud vibration pulled her away from her thoughts. She glanced at the nightstand and saw his phone light up as the black plastic rectangle shook again.

  He palmed the top of the table searching for the phone as his other arm curled her closer to him. She laughed and rolled giving him room to stretch and reach the offending device.

  “’lo.” God, his sleepy voice was gruff and oh, so sexy.

  Logan lay with her head on his shoulder and brought her hand up, drifting it over the slabs of muscle framing his massive chest. Cole snuggled closer making the caller’s voice impossible not to hear. She liked sleepy Cole.

  “Son, your friend Samuel called looking for you. I know you don’t like us to give out your cell phone number, so I told him I’d call and let you know.”

  Cole’s eyes popped open and he cleared his throat. “Thanks, Dad. Did he say what he needed?”

  “He didn’t say much. Only he’d like you to call him first thing this morning.”

  “All right, I will. Everything all right with you and Mom?”

  “Sure, right as rain. We’re not going to run off and join the circus anytime soon, but your mom has been looking at this cruise, and I don’t think I’m going to get out of it. Why in the world I would want to go to Cozumel, Mexico, I couldn’t tell you, but it looks like it’s a real possibility.”

  Cole laughed and ran his hand over her hair. “All right, thanks for calling. Love you, Dad. Give my love to Mom.”

  “Will do. Love you too, son.”

  Cole dropped his cell on his stomach and reached for his disposable flip phone. He rolled over and held the number one on the dial pad, queuing up the call as his lips traveled over her temple, leaving little rivulets of sensation.

  “Hayes.”

  “Davis.”

  “Cole, stand down immediately on all investigations regarding your currently active case. I need you to come in. Bring Church with you. We have a multi-jurisdictional briefing, tomorrow at 1400 hours.”

  Cole froze and flashed a glance at her. The questions in his eyes echoed hers. The man on the other end of the line continued.

  “There are two tickets to D.C. waiting for you. You leave at…” Logan could hear the man ruffle papers around before he continued, “1600 hours today from Gulfport, Mississippi. Do not break your cover. Be here 1400 hours, tomorrow.” The line went dead. The call lasted less than thirty seconds.

 
Logan leaned up sending a curtain of hair over his shoulder. “What was that all about?”

  “If my friend Sam calls, my father calls me and I get in contact with my handler. Deputy Director Hayes recalled us for a multi-jurisdictional briefing or an MJB tomorrow.”

  “What does it entail?”

  “Usually it means one of the other agencies has information involving one or more of the suspects in our case.” Cole put both of his phones down on the nightstand and rolled back to her. “Which means we need to arrange a couple days off from your grandfather. Since we had no time to spin it, we will say a sudden illness in my family.”

  Crap. A litany of items flew through her mind at the thought of a sudden departure. “All right. I’ll need to talk to Frankie. He’ll be upset if I don’t explain why we aren’t going out on the boat. Let me get some coffee going and…hey!”

  He rolled and pinned her to the bed. His massive arms held his weight suspended above her. “I don’t think so, babe.” He lowered and pinned her with his hips. “I believe there are more pressing items to be worked at the moment.”

  Logan could feel the moisture between her legs and his hardened length against her hip. He took her nipple into his mouth and bit down on it gently. She arched off the bed. His tongue flicked over the hardened nub. Little tendrils of sensation settled at her core where she wept for his attention.

  His hands, lips, and tongue had touched every part of her last night, yet she needed him again. “Please, Cole. I need…”

  “I know, baby. I can feel your body twisting under me. Tell me what you want.”

  She could barely see his eyes in the low light of dawn. On a breathless whisper, she steeled her resolve and told him what she needed. Instinctively she waited for the ridicule and the shame which had always come when she was honest with Beau.