Logan

by Melissa Foster

  “No. You didn’t scare me. I’m just mad.” She didn’t know where the confession had come from, but it opened a door inside her and her breaths came faster, harder. His eyes were seductive, and she wanted to see them staring down at her while he was buried deep inside her, taking away her pain and fear and filling her with pleasure.

  “I’m sick of being afraid.” She turned away to distract herself from the lust coiling down low in her belly. “I’m tired of measuring every thought. Every move.”

  “Stormy…” He came up behind her again. The air around them blazed with heat. “That’s not your real name—we both know that.”

  She took a step away, half expecting Logan to grab her arm and spin her around, the way Kutcher would have. But he didn’t. He pinned her with an empathetic look from a few feet away, and she felt her armor start to crack.

  She’d just been attacked. She should be more fearful, afraid to climb out from under all that armor and let go, but she felt just the opposite. She was sick and tired of the weight of running. She wanted to reclaim her life, her body, her mind.

  She was powerless to stop the truth from spilling out. “I want to walk down the street without my heart hammering and my nerves on fire.” Her arms swept through the hall as she paced, breathing like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. “I can’t even use my real name. I want to be able to go home and visit my mother without worrying that some psycho is going to attack and kill me.”

  “Why can’t you do those things?” His tone was tender, yet serious.

  She scoffed and closed the distance between them, drawn to the caring look in his eyes, the way his hands had unclenched and reached for her. “All I want is to be a regular girl.” She took a step back, battling her desires. He took a step closer. Her chest rose and fell with each angry breath, nearly grazing his. She wanted that contact, wanted to feel her breasts pressed against his strong chest.

  “You know the worst part about all of this?”

  “Tell me why you can’t do those things, and I’ll figure out the worst part.” His eyes went nearly black as his hands skimmed her arms again, sending a shiver down her spine.

  “Ugh!” She tried to walk away, and he held her still with little more than a touch of his fingertips. She didn’t want to get away.

  “Tell me. I’ll help.” He was dead serious.

  “You can’t help. No one can help. I’ll never be normal again. I’ll never be able to do any of those things, or walk down the street without fear, or fuck any goddamn guy I want without worrying about being killed.”

  His eyes searched hers. “I’m not going to kill you. But I’m willing to help with all those things, and God knows I’ll happily fuck you until you can’t remember your name.”

  His potent virility made the room feel smaller, hotter. Her limbs trembled, and tears stung her eyes, which only pissed her off even more. She lifted her chin in challenge.

  “Is that what you want, Stormy? You want me to take you right here? To spread your legs wide, lick your pussy until you come over and over again, then stick my hard cock inside you and fuck you until you forget everything else in the world? Because I promise you, Stormy Knight, you’ll not only forget how to think, but you’ll be so sore tomorrow that every step you take will remind you of me filling you so completely that you’ll crave more.”

  His eyes dropped from her face, to her neck, to her breasts, lazily appraising her with a maddening hint of arrogance that made her desire spike. She was already wet with need, and when he cupped her breast and brushed his thumb over her taut nipple, she lost any sense of right and wrong and gave in to the smoldering flames between them.

  “God, yes—”

  It came out in one long breath, which he captured in his mouth as he sealed his lips over hers, his tongue thrusting deep and hard as he claimed her. His hands were on fire as he tore at her shirt and threw it to the floor. She was too ready, too greedy, couldn’t wait to see the muscles that had saved her, that had protectively stalked her apartment. She grabbed both sides of his shirt and ripped with all her might. Buttons scattered. Logan laughed, a guttural, lustful laugh as he kissed a path down her neck and grazed his teeth over her collarbone and ground his hard length against her. She gave in to the need that had been buried for months and fumbled with the buttons on her jeans while he tore her bra from her body and took one of her breasts in his mouth. Forget the jeans, she buried her hands in his hair, holding him to her as he sucked and licked and tortured her hard nipple, sending heated anticipation between her legs.

  “Oh God, Logan. It’s been so long.”

  One strong hand rubbed her through her jeans. Her head tipped back with the delicious friction as he stroked her pussy and sucked her breast, driving her out of her fucking mind. More. She needed more. She was so wet, so close to the edge. She tugged at her jeans, needing them off. Logan made quick work of stripping her bare.

  He sank to his knees and spread his hands on her thighs, then looked up at her. “Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re sure? I’m not forcing, I’m not—”

  “Yes. Yes. God yes.”

  She thrust her hips forward, and he obliged with vigor. Lord, did he oblige. His talented tongue swirled and stroked while his fingers rubbed her clit with deadly precision. She’d forgotten how good it felt to get lost in pleasure. Ripples of ecstasy rolled through her, taunting her. The orgasm was just out of reach. He took her clit between his teeth, and she cried out.

  “I’ll stop.”

  He was too goddamn careful.

  “No! I want this.” She panted for breath. “Take me, Logan. Whatever I say, it’s okay. I want this. I want you.”

  “Safe word. Red.”

  Was he fucking for real? It’s not like he was tying her up and whipping her.

  “I don’t need a safe word.”

  “I do. You were attacked tonight. I need to know you have the power to stop me. I hear that word, I’ll stop. That’s my promise to you.”

  She leveled him with a seductive narrow-eyed stare so he wouldn’t misunderstand. “Thank you, Boy Scout. Now please fuck me like you’ve never fucked anyone before.”

  He thrust his fingers deep inside her, and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in exquisite pain and pleasure as his teeth found the sensitive bundle of nerves again. The tug of desire had her insides reaching for more as he probed and sucked and licked, turning her entire body into liquid heat, burning, aching. She felt her sex swell, craving more, just as he’d promised. She slammed her eyes shut. It had been so long since she’d felt these overwhelming sensations that her body wanted to remain in the heightened state, to revel in it. He did something incredible with his tongue, and her body surrendered to the molten desire. He lingered over her swollen sex, lapping, taking, keeping her at the peak until a tortured moan escaped her lips. Logan reared up and captured her cries in his mouth. He tasted of her, salty and sweet, as he claimed her mouth, then lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he devoured her, deepening the kiss as if he were memorizing the curve of every tooth. Their tongues found a rough, needy rhythm as he ground his cock against her, and the gritty fabric of his pants sent her reeling over the edge again.

  She tugged and pushed at his jeans, needing him inside her. He stripped quickly and—holy mother of all things sexy, his body was a work of art. Planes of hard, muscular flesh stood before her. Broad shoulders led to a narrow waist, and sinfully sexy ripped abs ended in a thick, hard cock, a bead glistening on the tip. She licked her lips and moved to the edge of the bed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length. He had the most beautiful cock, with a nice, thick, round head, in perfect proportion to the hard, smooth shaft. She licked the wetness from the tip, earning herself a heady groan. His fingers fisted in her hair as she swirled her tongue over the head, then took him in deep. She stroked him hard and fast. His thighs flexed, and his hips thrust forward. She drew him out slowly and licked the base, then focused on his tight sac, earning her a growl that c
ame from deep in his throat.

  “Suck my cock,” he ground out.

  She took him in again, working him with tight strokes. The tip met the back of her throat time and time again.

  “That’s it. Fuck, that’s good.”

  He guided her efforts, fisting her hair as his hips thrust faster. He grew impossibly bigger, and she knew he was close to release. She quickened her pace, wanting to pleasure him.

  “Stop. I’m gonna come, and I want to be inside you.”

  She drew him out slowly, cradling his balls and causing his head to tip back again. Torturing Logan made her feel empowered, and when his head dropped forward, his eyes nearly black, the look in them made her feel more desired than ever before.

  “Can you come more than once?” Please tell me you can.

  “Can you make me?”

  She loved a challenge. Never had, until Kutcher had pushed her past her comfort zone. She forced thoughts of him away, unwilling to allow him to ruin any more of her night.

  “Touch yourself while I fuck your mouth, darlin’. I want to see you come with me.”

  What kind of skill did it take to say darlin’ and fuck your mouth in the same breath and make it sound like his big, strong arms were wrapped around her as he gazed into her eyes? It was like being fucked hard but feeling loved, and she’d never felt anything like it—and didn’t want it to end. She reached between her legs, and for a moment she had to close her eyes against the overwhelming sensations. She needed this release, this freedom from living with fear every minute of the day, and with just four days left before Kutcher got out of jail, she wasn’t going to miss a second of this gift she’d given herself. This time with Logan.

  He grabbed the back of her head and guided her mouth around him, driving his hips forward as she stroked herself to the edge. He filled her mouth so completely she could barely breathe, heightening her pleasure. Tension wound around the backs of her thighs. The muscles in her back flexed as the orgasm coiled around her body like a snake, constricting, alighting every nerve, until it finally claimed her, pulsating tight and fast just as he groaned and thrust his cock deeper, spurting hot streams of salty semen down her throat. He held her head still as he rode the wave of his release, until she’d milked him dry, and his head fell forward with a loud exhalation.

  He opened his eyes just as she licked her lips.

  ***

  LOGAN KNELT BEFORE Stormy, his hands on her knees, and looked deeply into her eyes. He’d been with enough women to know she was using sex as an escape, just as he had for so many years. Being one of the US Navy’s elite SEAL team had taken his full concentration and total dedication, because Logan didn’t believe in just being good at anything. He believed in being the best at everything he did. That didn’t end with his profession. It carried over to relationships, sex, and even friendships. That’s why he’d never settled down with just one woman. He’d never met anyone whom he wanted to be the best for, and as he gazed into Stormy’s eyes and saw relief cloud over, hardening her beautiful features, he felt something in his chest crack open.

  He gathered her in his arms and held her close, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “You’re amazing, but I just want to hold you.” Hold you? What the hell? It was her vulnerability that took his emotions to a place they’d never been. She was trying so hard to be strong, to be whatever she felt she needed to be. He wanted to know what or who would put so much fear into this beautiful woman.

  Her body was rigid against him, but he wasn’t about to let her go. He couldn’t allow her to slip right back into that steel vault she kept herself trapped in. He came down on the bed beside her and pulled her up with him, his knee between her thighs, his arms circling her body so he could feel her erratic heartbeat against him.

  “Whatever you’re running from, let’s not think about it right now. Put it aside. For tonight, you’re safe.” He felt tension, fatigue, and so much unwanted emotion pent up in her that he wanted to give her a break. One night of peace, just like he and his brothers took turns trying to give their mother every night of the week. The feeling of safety, of knowing no one would ever hurt her again. When his mother had been attacked, and his father killed, Logan’s life had changed. He’d been protecting his country when the attack had happened, when he should have been home protecting the people he loved most.

  “Just fuck me, Logan. Do it so we’re both satisfied. Then you can go back to your life. Just give me this one night.” Her words were hard but full of need, as if she were challenging herself as well as him.

  “I will, babe. Just be with me a minute. Let yourself relax.” He didn’t know what was going on inside of him, but for the first time in his life he didn’t want a quick fuck. He knew the minute he walked out that door, Stormy would consume his thoughts. He’d worry about her. How could he not? With eyes that cut straight to the center of his chest, pleading and arguing in equal measure.

  She laughed against his chest. “Relax? That’s not going to happen, so either fuck me or leave.”

  He pulled back then and searched her eyes. “Do you really want me to leave?”

  “No. I want you inside me so I can forget my life for another few minutes.”

  “Babe, I can last longer than a few minutes, but how about first I hold you until you realize you can trust me? I’m really not into fucking people who don’t trust me.”

  “Really? You came in my mouth pretty easily.”

  She had him there. “Touché. What do you have against relaxing?”

  “When you relax, bad things can happen.” She pushed away, and he pulled her closer again, smoothed her hair away from her face, and kissed her forehead.

  “Not while I’m around.”

  “So…what? You want me to relax, then have sex with you?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Or relax and don’t. Whatever.”

  She cocked her head to the side, and he wondered how many men had hurt her, how many had treated her like shit. She touched her fingertip to the roundish scar on the right side of his chest, then traced the fine white line that ran along his ribs to the next, like she was connecting the dots.

  “What happened?” She gazed up. Her brows knitted together, and he could see she was softening toward him again.

  He shrugged. “I only give that out on a need-to-know basis, but I’d be willing to swap an answer for an answer.”

  He didn’t like to talk about his scars, and he didn’t like to talk about his time with the SEALs. It reminded him too much of the man he’d lost while he was gone. His father had tried so hard to talk him out of becoming a SEAL. It’s dangerous. You’re too smart to spend your life getting shot at. Stay home, buddy boy. But Logan had something to prove, though he never knew whom he was proving it to other than himself. He’d won the Silver Star, the Purple Heart, the Combat Action Ribbon, and a few more awards, but nothing would make up for fighting for someone else’s life while his parents were fighting for their own. He didn’t regret protecting his country, but he regretted not being around for his family when they needed him most, and he swore he’d never put anyone above those he loved again.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “You first. How did you get this scar?” She pressed her lips to the scar on his chest.

  “Bullet wound. I was a Navy SEAL. It was a night mission. I got four of their guys. They got one lucky shot. Then I killed two more.” He watched her process the information. Her eyes dropped to the scar, and her finger slid lightly over it.

  “Were you scared?”

  He hadn’t even known he’d been shot until he’d lost so much blood that he could no longer pull the trigger on his gun. He’d been in the midst of combat. Adrenaline had dulled his ability to feel pain and heightened his ability to perform.

  “Only of not seeing my family again.” He’d never admitted that to anyone, and as the words came, a lump formed in his throat. “Who are you running from?” he asked to distract himself from the painful memory.

  She shook her head, close
d her eyes.

  “Okay.” He softened his voice, understanding just how deep her wounds went. “Are you running from the law, or for your life?”

  She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. He watched the skin on her neck pull tight as she swallowed.

  “For my life.” A whisper.

  A whisper that cut like a knife.

  Logan lay on his side. He slid his knee up over her thighs and curled his left arm around her head, then leaned in close so his body blanketed the left side of hers, and he pressed his hand to her cheek, holding her face to his chest. He didn’t say anything at first. He wanted her to feel safe. His mother hadn’t wanted to share her fear with her sons after the attack that left her blind. Late one night Logan had relentlessly pursued the truth, peppering her with questions, and when she’d finally told him how she’d been too scared to call out for help and his father had risen from bed and charged the menacing burglar without fear—and the stranger had shot him twice in the chest, then savagely beat her, leaving her blind and barely breathing—he’d seen the fear come rushing back. That was three years ago, and Logan knew that although her fear had lessened, it would never fully disappear.

  “Why?” he finally asked.

  “I made a bad choice in a boyfriend.”

  “What has he done to you?”

  He felt wetness on his fingers and looked down at the tears slipping from her eyes. He brushed them away with his thumb and pressed his lips to her forehead. Seeing her like this made his chest feel tight and achy. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered feeling this way when his mother had confided in him. Anger born from the memory of his mother’s tears began to replace the ache.

  “Your turn,” she whispered as she stroked his cheek.

  Stormy’s voice brought him back from the memory.

  Her hand was soft and warm, and her touch was tender as she ran a finger along his jaw, down his neck to his chest, hesitating for a few seconds at the scar over his right pec. She followed the thin white scar that mapped a path to the second, lower patch of marred skin. “This? Did you get it while you were a SEAL?”