by Lily Harlem
Chapter Eight
The next morning Logan woke me by peppering kisses across my cheek.
“Keep your eyes shut,” he whispered as I squinted at the brightness of daylight. “Stay in that dreamy slumber while I worship your beautiful body.”
Who was I to argue? If Logan Taylor wanted to worship my body, I was going to savor every single second of it. Record it all in a delicious memory to recall on cold nights and use as a blanket against loneliness.
He kissed down my neck, slowly, leisurely, thoroughly. I sighed, curling my hands over his warm, smooth shoulders. He shifted his weight over me, using his knees to nudge mine apart. I spread my legs, inviting him.
“You taste of sleep and sex and candy,” he whispered onto my lips as he hovered over me.
I kept my eyes shut and ran my palm over his jawline, let the spiky hairs scratch my flesh until my thumb rested on his bottom lip.
“I can’t believe I’ve only woken up with you twice,” he said as his cock nudged at my entrance. “I feel like we’ve known each other forever.” My thumb moved as he spoke words that further inflated that annoying bubble in my chest. He was a cruel man, Logan Taylor, ambushing my heart when I was sleepy and vulnerable.
He pushed his cock into my damp folds. I arched my neck, pressing my hands onto his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his hips. I groaned, tilting my pelvis for more, encouraging him in to the hilt, until I was sure he was touching my cervix. He was so deep, he felt so good. How could it be wrong? All I could think of was Logan inside me, becoming part of me, becoming part of my world. Nothing could take this memory away and I savored the sensation of flesh on flesh.
“Ah, fuck,” he groaned by my ear. “I wanna come as soon as I get inside you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and pressed my cheek to his as his pubic bone woke up my clit.
He pulled out and rode back in, set up a slow, steady pace that rubbed all my sweet spots, inside and out. We had all day but our bodies had other ideas and within minutes I was clambering for an orgasm. My skin was hot, his weight was heavy and I had to drag in quick breaths as I got closer and closer.
“Logan!” I gasped as bright lights flashed behind my eyelids.
“What?” he asked in a strained voice.
“Please, I’m gonna come…”
“That’s the plan.”
“Faster, harder…please.” It was what I needed, what I wanted. “Now.”
He shifted his weight up onto his hands. “Open your eyes,” he said. “Watch me enter you, watch me drive into you hard and fast the way you want it.”
I blinked at the harsh light. Logan loomed over me. His biceps balled, the tendons on his neck strained and his shoulders were so wide he was like a building.
“Watch my dick,” he said, his eyes flashing before he dipped his head to view our connected bodies.
I followed his line of sight. His wide chest heaved over my jiggling, side-slung breasts and his abs had contracted into neat rows of power. Lower down our pubic hair meshed—his black, wiry curls tangled with my thin blonde strip of hair. He lifted his hips and began to withdraw. The deep scarlet of his shaft came into view, shining with my moisture. The angry purple veins had dilated thickly and as he pulled out completely, I saw the crest flushed to burgundy with arousal and the slit expanding.
“Logan,” I cried. “Where’s the condom?”
“Fuck,” he rolled off me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“It doesn’t matter, just get one.” I sat and spun to search the bedside table.
“I fucking forgot,” he said. I heard the tearing of foil. Already he was rolling one down his shaft. “I’m sorry, Brooke, you make me lose my head.”
“It’s okay,” I said, lying down and holding out my arms. “Just get back where you were.” I smiled. “Exactly where you were.”
He repositioned and we both watched as his sheathed cock disappeared into my pussy. With each inch that went from view, the sensations in my core amplified tenfold. We groaned in synchrony and pleasure rocketed through my abdomen as he began to thrust in and out, watching each movement with his hair hanging over his face and his breath coming in long, controlled breaths.
He stilled at the hilt with his hips pressed against my inner thighs, held himself as hard and deep as he could possibly go.
“I wanna stay here forever,” he murmured.
I tried to answer but coherent words wouldn’t form. My orgasm was there, blossoming, growing, there was only one conclusion now—release. I shivered and shook. He was pressing so hard on my clit with all his weight, that combined with the fullness tipped me over the edge. He didn’t need to move a muscle and I was climaxing.
“Oh God, Logan,” I wailed as I flew apart at the seams. My pussy clenched his cock as my stomach flooded with red-hot release.
“Lord, give me the strength to survive this,” Logan muttered then withdrew and forged back in, pounding deep and fast.
I cried out, consumed by waves of explosive pleasure crashing through me. I gripped his shoulders as he steamed into me with uncontrolled lust. When his cock hardened to steel, his muscles shuddered beneath the surface of his skin. He buried deep one last time, threw back his head and bared his teeth. “Ahh, mother fuck…ahh.” His cock pulsed and pumped deep within me as he poured into the condom. His arms gave way and he collapsed, shifting just enough so that I was cradled in his arms without being flattened.
He pressed his mouth to my hair. “One hell of a start to the day,” he panted on a jagged breath.
*****
We dressed, drank coffee and decided on a stroll to the beach café. The air was still, the sun hot and the small beach village held an air of calm laziness. Logan glanced around and, happy we weren’t being watched by press, picked a table under a blue umbrella. A terra-cotta pot of white jasmine sat next to us, flooding the air with sugary summer scents and reminding me of Aunt Belinda’s yard.
We received a welcome from the waitress as if we were old friends, and since it was now lunchtime, ordered the catch of the day, salad and a bottle of white wine.
“Cheers,” Logan said, clinking his glass to mine.
“Cheers.” I smiled. “What are we celebrating?”
“Meeting,” he said before taking a sip. “Definitely something to celebrate.” He grinned. “And we’ve made some awesome memories.”
I took a sip of the crisp wine and glanced out to sea. Memories, that’s all this was? But I’d known it from the start. Logan was destined for the “holiday romance” file in my brain—I just hoped my heart knew that too.
“What?” He set down his drink.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, there is something.” He tipped his head to the side. “What’d I say wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He reached for my hand. “I might be slow sometimes but I know when I’ve put my big foot in my mouth.”
I took a deep breath and pasted a smile onto my lips. “We’ve made incredible memories,” I said. “Ones that will stay with me for a long time so yes, we should celebrate.”
He studied me with narrowed eyes. “Are you still coming to the game on Saturday?”
I swallowed and shrugged. “If you want me to?”
“Of course I do.” His brow creased.
“You don’t have to say that, Logan.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t want me to come you can take the invite back. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
“Why would I do that?”
I looked down at the delicate jasmine flowers and watched a tiny bee examining them. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to get me tickets. Perhaps you just said it to be polite… We had, after all, just had sex.”
His jaw dropped and he stared at me for a long moment. “Did you suck my dick to be polite?” he asked incredulously.
“No, of course not and that’s not what I meant.”
He shook his head. “Where has thi
s come from? I thought we were all good.”
I pushed a hand through my hair. I was hot and flustered, prickles of heat spiked at the flesh on my back and between my breasts.
His voice dropped low. “I offered because I want you to be there. I want to see you after the game. I want to see you the next morning too, in my bed, all sleepy and sexy like you were today.”
“But where will it go, Logan? Where will we go?”
His jaw tensed and his eyes darkened.
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “You’re a highly trained, highly paid, successful athlete and I’m a chubby girl who wants to be a nurse.” I glanced out to sea. “And I know I’m a bit kooky, everyone is always telling me that.”
“Don’t say all that stuff about yourself like it’s a bad thing.” He brushed his thumb over my knuckles.
I shrugged.
“You’ve got it all wrong. I love that you want to be a nurse, it’s a better career than flicking pucks into a net and checking opponents into boards.” He lifted his hand from mine, crooked his finger beneath my chin and turned my face to his. “And as for being a bit kooky.” He smiled. “I just happen to think kooky is cute, hell, I’m even getting used to it.” He licked his lips and his gaze dropped to my cleavage. “And your curves, well, they’re the best damn shapes I’ve ever had the privilege of seeing naked, bar none, like…ever.”
I raised my eyebrows. He was such a skillful liar. So damn persuasive that I almost believed him.
“Don’t fight it, Brooke.” His face creased into a smile that went right up to his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t fight it, I’m not.” He paused and dropped his finger as the waitress set down plates of barbequed fish and bowls of vibrant salad glazed with a honey and mustard dressing.
“Anything else?” she asked, rubbing her hands on her floral apron.
“No, this is perfect,” Logan said, his gaze not leaving mine. “Real perfect.”
I spread out my napkin and picked up my cutlery, but I didn’t feel hungry. My emotions were spiraling and threatening to spin out of control. Logan was just digging a deeper hole for me to bury myself in with all his compliments and smiles.
“What color is my aura today?” Logan asked, spooning a mountain of salad onto his plate.
“Pardon?”
“What color is my aura? Any streaks of black?”
I concentrated through the blue haze the umbrella cast over us. It was hard to see his aura but from what I could make out it was a perfectly clear scarlet. Unblocked and unstreaked, it shone from him in a powerful but controlled way.
“It’s just red, a deep, vivid red,” I said.
“See.” He popped a sliver of flaked white fish into his mouth.
“See what?”
He swallowed and shrugged. “You’re good for me, Brooke. Why the hell would I give that up just ’cause we’re going back to the mainland?”
I took another sip of wine, let the liquid coat every inch of the inside of my dry mouth. “But—”
“There’s only one real question in all of this,” he said, suddenly clattering down his knife and fork and resting clenched fists on the table by his plate. “And that is do you want to get involved with ‘Phoenix’ and all the crap that entails?” His brow creased into three neat lines and the muscle in his cheek jumped. “The lies the press write and the hockey management’s grip on my life. The relentless rink bunnies who even if we’re together will try to drape themselves over me. Could you stand to get involved in that media circus? Could a woman like you consider giving up normality for me?”
I looked into his blue eyes, sparkling the same way the sun was hitting the sea behind him.
“A woman like me?” My brain was spinning, my heart melting. There was no question about it, Logan Taylor was a dangerous guy. He should come with a big yellow warning—hazardous to the health of your heart.
“A woman like you,” he said, reaching for my hand. “A beautiful, intelligent, woman who could have a normal life with a normal guy, white picket fence, two point five kids.” He frowned and tugged at his bottom lip. “Could you give us a go?”
“I think we’ve made a good start,” I said hesitantly, and wondering if I’d see a retreat in his face if I started going along with his suggestion.
“Hell, yeah.” He grinned. “But what I’m suggesting is more than a fling in the sun. I’ve always been a selfish guy when I see something I want and, Brooke, I want you.” He shrugged. “I want you here and now and I want you back home, when I’m on the ice, when I’m off the ice.” His voice lowered. “What do you say? I know you’ve been hurt before, lied to, but can you trust me enough to give us a shot?”
Against my better judgment, I itched to touch him, kiss him, I couldn’t wait to have him inside me again and feel his body shudder as he took pleasure from mine. But there was so much at stake now, it wasn’t just sexual satisfaction, it was my heart, still tender and bruised from Sam. Was I ready to put it up for another pounding? One that would be more obliterating than that last, since pounding was Logan’s profession and he’d managed to get much deeper into my core than Sam ever had.
But looking into his face my common sense fled, my stomach twisted and my heart spilled over. “Yes,” I said on a breath that threatened to judder with both fear and joy. “Yes, I do trust you and I will give us a shot.”
He pressed his knuckles into the table and stood, leaning over our lunch to brush his lips to mine. “Good,” he said onto my mouth. “Just don’t go making me feel like I’ve had another damn stick to the head.”
“What do you mean?” I sucked the taste of him from my lips.
“When you say one thing and mean another it confuses dumbass hockey players like me, so tell me straight, sweetie, whatever you want say it straight and I’ll give it to you.” His lips curled into a devilish smile as he sat back down. “If you’re worried about something, if you need something, just let me know in real, simple language from now on, okay?”
“I don’t think you’re a dumb hockey player.” I took another sip of wine to dampen the excited fluttering in my stomach.
“That’s real kind of you to say so.” He grinned. “But unlike you, I don’t have any mind-reading powers.”
I laughed. “I can’t read minds.”
“When it comes to guessing what I want I think you’ve been damn accurate so far. And I’m looking forward to more testing of the mind-reading theory later on.” He held up his wine and waited for me to do the same. He tapped the rims together. “To us,” he said with steely determination in his voice.
“To us,” I said, matching his smile and wallowing in the bright glow of hope that had ignited deep within me. The beautiful glow that burned vibrant and strong whenever yin and yang collided. Maybe, just maybe, Logan was the yang to my yin, my soul mate. There was only one way to find out, and it seemed he was as keen to discover our potential as I was.
*****
The rest of our lunch conversation was lazy and unemotive, and with a lighter mood I relaxed and settled into Logan’s company. He was far from dumb, his mind was sharp, his sense of humor keen and he was current on all sorts of issues from politics to Hollywood movies. He was also well traveled, having played hockey in Canada, Europe and Alaska, and it seemed he made a point of being a cultured visitor as well as a sportsman when he took a trip.
When we arrived back at the villa, I was sleepy with wine and tired from the long, hot walk. The roller-coaster emotions of the last few days had caught up with me and the four-poster, nestled in the shade, looked very inviting as I stepped onto the deck.
“I think I’ll lie down for a while,” I said, kicking off my flip-flops. “I’m tired.”
“Good plan,” Logan said. “I’ll join you.” He held up his palms when he saw my doubtful face. “It’s okay, I’ll let you rest.” He grinned. “For a while, at least, because you’ll need your energy for later.” He grinned and d
isappeared into the villa.
I stretched out with my head propped up on the luxurious pillows and my toes pointed toward the sea. My body felt relaxed but at the same time achy, as though I’d indulged in a rigorous workout at the gym or strenuous swimming—which I rarely did. A smile tipped my mouth. It suited me to exercise by having sex with Logan. I’d found my perfect workout after years of trying all manner of deadly dull classes. Classes that promised toned thighs and a flat stomach but quickly sent me scampering for a cappuccino and a doughnut.
“What are you smirking about?” Logan asked, joining me on the bed with a copy of Hockey Today.
“I was thinking how good you are for me,” I said, looking up at him.
“I like those thoughts.” He linked his fingers with mine, drawing my hand to his mouth. “Have I’ve cleansed your aura?”
“Mmm. Trouble is, some of the thoughts you’ve put in my head are downright dirty.” I twitched my eyebrows.
“Is that how it works?” He looked confused.
I laughed. “No, not at all.”
His eyes drifted to my breasts, jiggling in my t-shirt. The low, scooped neck showed off my cleavage and I wondered if he was remembering how he’d come on me yesterday. My breath caught at the memory. It had been so hot so see him so turned-on by my plus-sized breasts. Breasts that had always been such a nuisance for clothes shopping and exercising.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his gaze coming back up to my face. “Every last inch of you.” He licked his lips and his fingers traced the line of my t-shirt, coming to rest in my cleavage. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“No, not really,” I said, watching his finger dip into the cushion of my warm flesh.
“Well, somebody should have, because you really are. I could look at you all day and all night.”
Reaching up, I curled my fingers into the softly mussed hair at his nape, pulled his head to mine and kissed him gently. I heard his magazine slide to the floor as he leaned farther in and opened up.
