Pursuit

by Chance, Lynda

  “Okay,” she replied simply.

  His expression hardened. “Third date. Tomorrow night, I get you butt-assed naked.”

  She regarded him with a searching look as her nerves tangled in her throat. “Not … not necessarily.”

  He ignored that and with a casualness that she didn’t quite believe, he took her hand and walked her up to her front door where he proceeded to give her a mind-blowing kiss.

  She hung in the circle of his arms, and when it was over, he lifted his head and stared down at her. “Yeah, it’s necessary. I’m taking you to bed tomorrow night and don’t for one second think that it’s going to be otherwise, understand?”

  He stood still as if waiting for her to agree, and with her heart beating a crazy tattoo inside her chest, she unlocked the door, twisted the doorknob and escaped inside her apartment.

  ****

  Lauren opened her door the next night ready to walk out and not be cornered. With his mandate from the previous night ringing in her ears all day, her plan was to outmaneuver him. She’d been fully ready an hour before the designated time, just to be sure, and when she opened her door, she had her bag over her shoulder and her keys in her hand, ready to lock the door behind them.

  But Logan completely out-played her.

  He had Chinese takeout in a bag and as she opened the door, he pushed it toward her and she automatically took it before she realized her mistake. He walked over the threshold, and she stepped back as he slammed the door shut with a booted foot. She watched him as if in a daze as he turned and bolted the door and then even locked it with the chain for good measure.

  He turned back to face her, leaned against the door and folded his arms over his chest.

  How the hell had he done that?

  With her heartbeat in overdrive, she took the two small steps that brought her to the kitchen counter and dropped the bag down and then turned to face him, wanting to keep him in her line of sight.

  He said not a single word, but the look on his face was enough to make her begin hyperventilating. He wore his favored jeans and tonight he had on a tight, black t-shirt that molded his pecs and sent spasms of heat down her spine.

  She watched him warily as he continued to lean back and when he pushed off the door and took one step toward her, she knew her face reflected her alarm.

  She was completely speechless; she knew for a fact that he could tell that she was quaking on the inside. A war of emotions raging within, she swallowed and ran her damp palms down the silk of her dress.

  As the blood pumped heavily through her veins, she tried to decide what to do. He took another slow step forward that felt as if he were stalking her. His gaze never left hers. “It’s Sunday,” he stated, as if she was supposed to know what that meant.

  “Yes,” she agreed mildly, disoriented by that statement but determined to continue breathing evenly.

  “Can you count to three?” he asked in a slightly ominous voice that sent unwanted ripples of arousal down her spine.

  She was nervous and more than a bit disturbed. Turned on and a tiny bit intimidated. A gamut of perplexing emotions ran through her as he stood just opposite of her, staring down at her and reducing the thoughts in her head to drivel. She was silent, not about to agree to anything he might be intimating, no matter the ribbon of heat that was settling in her midsection.

  He took the last step that brought him into her personal space. Reaching out, he pulled the strap from her shoulder and dropped her purse to the floor at her side. He dropped his hands down and encircled each of her wrists within the grasp of his fingers. “Friday, Saturday, Sunday,” he enunciated clearly as he began walking her backwards, until her spine hit the same wall he’d had her against the night before. He lifted her arms above her head and as her breath quickened and began to come in raspy gasps, he gripped both of her wrists in one strong hand and brought the other down to lift her chin.

  He pressed his torso fully into hers and she was immediately, intimately introduced to his erection, hot and hard, pushing against her stomach. His eyes clashed and held hers. “Friday, Saturday, Sunday,” he repeated. “One, two, three,” he continued, counting slowly and evenly.

  Lauren was sinking under his spell faster than she could control. Sexual awareness, brought about by the hard iron of his muscles and the steel of his arousal made thinking impossible. “One, two, three,” she whispered, parroting him, only aware at this point of his corded, sinewy strength pressing against her and the intoxicated need that enticed her to submit.

  His hand slid from her chin to the row of buttons down her dress and released them in seconds. He let go of her hands only briefly, and with a strength and determination that totally disarmed her, stripped her of her dress. She found herself standing in her bra and panties and stilettos, with her dress tossed down at her feet. She sucked in a stunned breath, and he grabbed her hands again, holding them rigid above her head.

  “One date, two dates, three dates, mine.” His voice was guttural, and as his mouth closed over hers, Lauren shut her eyes and gave in to what they both wanted.

  ****

  Logan felt her relax against the wall, and his head almost exploded with relief. She was driving him completely insane; he’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted this one. He’d done nothing but think about her since the first moment he’d seen her. She was affecting his sleep and his work and his ability to do anything else. She was the epitome of femininity and she was fucking with his brain and he knew that there was no way he could rest until he’d had her.

  He pushed his tongue inside her mouth, and all he could think about was getting his cock into her wet, silky heat. She was trembling against him, trying to breathe, and he tried to go easy on her, but he couldn’t resist dominating her with his mouth.

  He felt a rush of fire; he let her hands go and wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her, arching her back, trying to align their pelvises together. Her hands fell to his shoulders and he continued to kiss her as he reached down and twisted the snap between her breasts. He felt the material give away, and completely fascinated, he tore his mouth free so that he could see what he’d unwrapped.

  Her breasts were not quite medium-sized, soft and white, tipped with pink nipples that were already hardened into tight little buds.

  Lust seized him by the throat and he almost lost it that very instant.

  He lifted her up, and dropped his mouth down to enclose a breast. He began sucking and licking, and took the time only to hoist her up and wrap her legs around his waist. Not letting go of the breast he’d captured, he began walking into her bedroom, intent on his mission.

  The bed was in the center of the room, and he dropped her to the middle and followed her down. He came over her, spreading her thighs with his knee and put his mouth back to her breast. She began whimpering, moaning in her throat, and no matter how much he tried to get a grip and go slow, he couldn’t. His hand slid purposely to the juncture of her thighs, and feeling her damp underwear, he knew she was with him. He wasted no time in stripping the material down her legs.

  His hand returned in an instant, and when he pressed his palm tightly against her, she almost came off the bed. He almost came in his pants.

  She began clawing at his shirt, and he stopped and ripped it over his head. She was naked except for her shoes, and seeing her like that almost did him in. Her feminine scent was heady, utterly addictive to the primal being raging within him. He had only one goal.

  He leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue sinking into her mouth, his finger sinking into the hot pink flesh between her thighs.

  They groaned in unison. His world was about to come apart, and he needed to get into her first.

  He stood up and shucked his boots, jeans and underwear and within two seconds, he was back with her.

  He put his hand back between her legs, and played with her clit until she was moving in a way that had the sweat breaking out on his brow. She was ready. He was ready. They were both g
oing to come now if he didn’t get inside of her.

  Moving over her, he spread her legs and came between them, his erection ready to impale her. He grabbed her hands and lifted them over her head and her eyes flew open. Her attention was riveted on him while she panted in and out. “Did you put a condom on?” she questioned while she sucked in oxygen.

  Son-of-a-bitch, he’d forgotten. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. He pulled away and dug one from the pocket of his jeans and sheathed himself within seconds. He came back over her and this time, he slid his hands under her butt and lifted her up.

  He held her sweet, blue eyes with his gaze and brought the head of his penis to her opening. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” she panted.

  He began pushing inside, but she was narrow and he had to go slow. Intense pleasure screamed down his spine from the constricting tightness surrounded his cock. He continued his relentless push until he was buried all the way in. His brain began screaming in triumph. Lauren, fuck yeah, Lauren. He had her now.

  ****

  A barrage of emotions hit Lauren from all sides. She was excited, beyond excited. Dating him, let alone sleeping with him, was so new that she was feeling not only sexual excitement, but also butterflies in her belly all at the same time. He smelled so awesome, he felt so incredible as he stretched her. Her mind spun out of control as pleasure, hot and intense and stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, hit her in a giant wave.

  She finally remembered to breathe and inhaled sharply at the same time as he began pumping. He stopped and adjusted their positions as he took his hands out from beneath her. He leaned on one hand as he ran the other down her thigh and lifted it at the knee and brought it over his arm. She sucked in a startled breath as the move opened her wider and more intimately to him. Her eyes flew open and she found him staring down at her with an almost frenzied look. His nostrils flared as he took in a ragged lungful of oxygen.

  He took a stroke and intense pleasure lashed her. She cried out.

  His lips tightened and he bared his teeth as he gritted out, “That was good?” His lips flattened. “Or that hurt?” Lauren looked into his face and saw pure lust mixed with concern.

  “G-good,” she stammered, trying to catch her breath.

  He took another stroke and she cried out again. “Oh, yeah, good,” he hissed out.

  A multitude of feelings inundated her as she hung on for dear life. The sexual excitement was without question, but underneath all that, just below the surface, Lauren was experiencing a plethora of mind-blowing sensations. He was amazing, his touch on her skin was amazing.

  He held her in a tight vise that told of his involvement in the moment, that told of his total involvement in her. His arms, his eyes, his body as he hung over her smoldered with heat. His attention was all-consuming, inflexible as he all but held her captured beneath him with ruthless, commanding intent.

  But there was more to it than the raw, almost feral sexual encounter. Below his dominant touch, below the uncontested duel that raged between them, she felt something else … the way he sucked in his breath, the way his eyes flared, the way his hands ran over her skin, there was almost … adoration there. Adoration and… care. As he held her so tightly, she felt as if there was a buffer between her and the rest of the world. As if she was safe in his arms and she could let go and enjoy the sensations he was inducing within her, because he’d take care of her.

  It was a heady, dangerous combination to her senses. His primal, aggressive force, combined with the sense of refuge she was feeling in his embrace was knocking her off-center.

  She felt a shiver of response run through her at the stroke of his hand and suddenly her long-denied sexuality forced every thought from her head. The only thing left was the sexual being he’d awakened from dormant sleep.

  He found a steady rhythm, and within seconds, her womb began tightening and fireworks began exploding in her head. She tried to delay it, but she couldn’t. She came hard and fast and had just enough snap to know that he was following her over the edge.

  ****

  Lauren closed her eyes but he didn’t give her much time to recover. He slid from her body and went to her bathroom. In a daze, she heard running water coming from the sink. He came back to the bed and made an attempt to put a warm washcloth between her thighs.

  Lauren jerked away from him in delayed embarrassment and pulled back the covers and dove under them.

  He stood by the side of the bed with a look on his face and a raging hard-on.

  She stared at it, confused, her eyes wide. “Didn’t you … didn’t you—”

  “Didn’t I what?” he asked.

  “Didn’t you … come?”

  His expression filled with amusement. “Yeah. The evidence is in the condom in the trashcan. Want to see it?”

  She began shaking her head, but her eyes remained glued to his erection as the oxygen stuck in her throat.

  He took the washcloth back to the bathroom and came back to stand over the bed again. Lauren watched him from under the sheet.

  He put one knee on the bed and then made a move to pull back the covers. He looked as if he had every intention of having another bout of sex, but Lauren didn’t think she was ready for that quite yet and held on tightly to the sheet. What she’d experienced already had her brain fried like an egg, and above all else, she desperately needed to put a small amount of distance between them.

  Even if that distance was only comprised of some clothes on her body and getting away from the bedroom.

  She scooted up on the bed until her back was against the headboard and she held the sheet all the way up to her chin. His eyes narrowed on her and he moved onto the bed fully, up on his knees, and stared down at her. “What gives, sweetheart?” he asked as he ran a single finger on top of the sheet, from her knee to the valley between her breasts.

  She shook her head, “Nothing.”

  “Let me have the sheet.” His hand fisted around the edge of the cover.

  She shook her head again.

  “Are we playing a little game here? You want me to play along?”

  Her eyes flared and her breath became lodged in her throat. “No,” she managed. “No game. I just n-need a little time, okay?”

  “How much time?” His muscles tensed and his gaze became pointed.

  “More than you need, by all evidence.”

  He smiled at that answer and continued to watch her and then reached for her once again. Lauren sucked in a breath and reared back from him. “You remember what you t-told me?”

  “What was that?” he asked, his eyes going down to the breasts she was keeping hidden behind the sheet.

  “You told me to tell you … if you were pushing too hard.” She licked her lips and let out a controlled breath. “You’re pushing too hard.”

  At her words, his eyes found hers again and something flared in them that she couldn’t interpret. He nodded swiftly, only once.

  She attempted to move them along and the situation out of the bedroom. “That was Chinese takeout, right?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I’m hungry,” she said simply and untruthfully.

  For a prolonged moment he only stared at her, and Lauren was very much afraid he was going to pounce on her again. But he didn’t. He merely rose from the bed in splendid nudity and held out his hand to her. “Well, then, by all means, let’s eat.”

  Lauren knew her face was flushed red; she could feel it. She stayed under the covers and made no move to take his hand. “No, that’s okay. You go on and get dressed and I’ll be in there in a minute.”

  “I just saw you completely and totally naked, Lauren. And I gotta tell you, I approve, one hundred percent. You really don’t have anything to hide from me.” He reached down and snagged his jeans and pulled them over his hips, sans underwear, Lauren noticed.

  Geez. She approved of his naked body a hundred percent as well. But then, he was awesome naked. Tall, muscular, tanned, there real
ly wasn’t a single aspect of him that wasn’t perfect. Well, at least physically. His total arrogance was another matter entirely.

  But evidently, he planned on going easy on her because all he did was send her a searing look and then he walked from the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

  ****

  Logan forced himself to walk from her bedroom and close the door. Did he want to? Hell, no. He wanted to stay and sink inside of her again, and short of that, he wanted to stand back and watch as she crawled out from underneath that damn sheet she’d hidden beneath. He wanted to see what she looked like naked, when she was standing. He wanted to span her waist with his hands and see his thumbs pressing against her abdomen. He wanted to see exactly how wide or how narrow her hips were in proportion to her breasts. He wanted to see the line of her naked collarbone and he wanted to see the hollow of her throat.

  Most of all, he wanted the right to stand there and watch her, he wanted an invisible chain that bound her to him so she couldn’t get away from him as easily as she’d just done, and he wanted the satisfaction of knowing that she wanted that just as much as he did.

  He scrubbed his hand over his face in agitation when he realized the direction of his thoughts. He needed to get a fucking grip and slow the fuck down or he was going to send her running.

  And damned if he would allow that to happen.

  She was too perfect, too sexy, too sweet, just as he’d told her. And he hadn’t had enough of her yet. Not even close. He could still taste her on his tongue, and he wanted more. He could still feel his hands wrapped around her wrists, and he wanted more. He could remember the exact moment she’d exploded in spasms around him, and he wanted more.

  Yeah, he needed to get a grip and slow the fuck down before he scared her off. He definitely needed to tone it down a notch or two, because there wasn’t any way in hell she was going to get away from him this quickly.

  He’d play her game for awhile, let her think she was in control of this thing between them, because it wouldn’t help his case a damn bit for her to know how goddamn obsessed he was already. He was feeling a hot, possessive streak that he’d never felt for another woman, an aggressive need to mark her as his territory.