“I don’t know. I’m getting in deeper.”
“Have there been other … “
“Other what?” he prompted when she didn’t finish her thought.
“Other women who … had to cut you loose because of your … intensity?”
“Hell, no. Nobody has ever dumped me and there damn sure hasn’t been a woman who …”
“Who what?” she asked him quietly.
His gaze was riveted on her face, and his expression filled with heart-rending confusion. “Fucked me up like this. Made me feel the way you do.”
Lauren’s heart clenched and turned over. Her stomach did a somersault and she moved just a tiny bit closer to him.
He noticed and moved a hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around her neck, massaging it in a circular motion. His forehead landed against hers. “I passed your ridiculous test, you know.” His voice, although low, dripped satisfaction. “I was doing fine until that second mother fucker pushed you into dancing with him when I knew you didn’t want to.”
“I know,” she said simply.
He lifted his head from hers and stared down at her. “I passed your test,” he reiterated in a vulnerable tone that pulled at Lauren’s heartstrings.
He had passed her test.
“Yeah, you did.”
“I don’t want you to put me through that shit again. I think once in a lifetime was enough, okay?” His tone had regained the strength that Lauren was used to hearing from him.
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Pretty soon it’s going to be time to get some stuff straight, you know?” he demanded in a raspy tone.
She knew he wouldn’t let her postpone the day of reckoning forever, but that day wasn’t here yet. “I know, but not yet.”
His finger trailed down her cheek and then dropped to stroke her arm sensuously. “Do you trust me enough to let me take you home?”
Her heartbeat fluttered and then went into overdrive. “Yes,” she answered, readily and unequivocally.
****
He’d mentioned where he lived, but she’d never been to his house before. He drove to the south side of town, to an upscale, gated neighborhood close to the Space Center.
Lauren almost held her breath as she walked into his house for the first time. He had parked in the garage, and they walked in through the backdoor. But right away, she could see that he had not an ounce of decorating skills at all. He’d told her that he’d bought the house some three years before. The house was big and newish, but it was a man’s house, with the entire concept being that of a ‘man-cave’. She noticed one thing immediately. There was no junk strewn about. Everything was in perfect order and seemed to have a place.
She thought about her apartment and what he must think about it. She kept her living room reasonably tidy because she liked it that way, and after all, you never knew when someone might stop by. And her kitchen was always clean, because, well, you had to keep your kitchen clean. But her bedroom … my God, what must he have thought of her bedroom? She usually changed clothes four or five times before she found what she wanted to wear, and because her closet was tiny and barely held half her stuff, she had shirts and skirts and shoes strewn everywhere around her bedroom.
Lauren pushed the thought aside and focused on his house. She loved it immediately and she knew there were two reasons for that. The first was that it was so very obvious that another woman hadn’t put her mark on the house in any way. There was nothing feminine about it, nothing to indicate that a woman had ever lived here. The second thing was that because it was a man’s place, Lauren was woman enough to be able to blank all the guy stuff out of her mind and look at the place as if it were a clean decorating palette.
The house had wonderful lines and if things continued the way they were going, she could definitely see herself living here.
Of course, she’d keep that to herself for now. Even though she knew he had long-term on his mind because of all these ‘talks’ he wanted to have with her, she didn’t think his brain had gone to marriage and she wasn’t ready enough to even begin hinting. It so was not time.
But his house was definitely doable. She could work with it and make it beautiful if the time ever came.
Lauren stood back as he flicked on a few more lights and then turned to face her. He slid the small, over-the-shoulder bag off of her arm and tossed it to the coffee table. Picking up her hand, he led her over to a set of french doors, turned off the living room lights and flicked on a switch, so that the backyard was lit with subdued lighting. Lauren gasped as a swimming pool that she hadn’t realized was back there came into prominent view.
The inside of his house might need attention, but the outside was nothing short of beautiful. As she looked out, he pressed his chest against her back and grasped her wrists in his palms and held them down by her sides. His mouth slid to her ear, and he took her lobe between his teeth with just enough force to draw a cry from her lips and kindle heat in her stomach. Lauren expelled a shallow pant.
“What you did to me tonight, that’s not happening again.” Just like that, Lauren’s vulnerable guy was gone and her testosterone-laden male was back.
She stood enthralled against the cool glass of the door pane; heat saturated her senses. “Do you understand, Lauren?”
“Yes,” she breathed softly.
He transferred her hands to the door and pressed her palms flat against the glass. “Hold them there. Don’t move,” he ordered in a voice that dripped blatant masculinity.
His hands came in front of her and unfastened her linen shorts, and he roughly pushed them to the ground. Lauren jerked but he easily controlled her movements. “Don’t move,” he said again. She sucked in a ragged breath. “Step out of the shorts.”
Lauren lifted one foot and then the other and he kicked her shorts and the panties that he’d dragged down with them across the tiled floor. He ran one hand over her butt, down her thighs and back again. “Tell me what you want,” he said in a low tone that vibrated through her.
Lauren was trembling now and she closed her eyes as she answered him truthfully. “You.”
“Ahh, now that’s good, sweetheart.” His hand came between her legs from behind and he parted her folds. He circled her clit just once before sliding his finger all the way inside. She flooded with heat, let out a strangled moan and he controlled the jolt she made with his heavy torso leaning against her. “That’s real good, babe, because you’re about to get me.”
Chapter Six
Lauren felt Logan adjust his pants and within seconds, he’d removed his finger. He picked her up at the hips, and let her legs dangle down. Spreading her thighs out, he moved between them and began to sink inside of her. Lauren felt the sensation that stretched her and a molten river of heat cascaded through her system and a warm, sweet ache began to build in her womb.
He stretched her until he was all the way in, and he stayed like that, refusing to pump no matter how much she wiggled against him.
“You like that, babe?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” He pulled out and slid back in, slowly and agonizingly firmly, until he was planted all the way in again. He held himself there and Lauren thought she was going to go crazy.
His mouth came to her shoulder and he bit down before lifting up and stroking her once again.
Electric shocks hit her pelvis and she was lanced with a coil of heated desire.
“The next time you pull what you did tonight, you best be ready for the consequences.” He slid in and out in a pump so forceful it took her breath and sent currents of pleasure down her spine. He stilled again, pushing against the opening of her womb with an unspoken threat that clogged Lauren’s throat. “Don’t make me prove in a public place who you belong to.” He took another stroke, his cock lunging inside only to still again. “Because, trust me, I will, and it could turn south real quick. Those two bouncers? I could have laid them out flat in less than th
ree seconds. Don’t dangle some guy in front of me and think I can always control my reaction.”
He began stroking, firmly and evenly, and with his advice ringing in her ears, Lauren pushed everything from her brain except for him and what he could make her feel. His strokes were hard and even, his erection so large and hot within her that the pleasure was almost impossible for Lauren to believe.
Could it ever be this way with anyone else? Did he feel this way too? Was that the reason he went so wild, acted so aggressively?
As he pumped inside of her, he snatched up her wrist and encircled it in his fingers in a declaration of possession. She felt the provocative action in a shiver of anticipation over her skin. She was wet and excited for him, she could feel the ache in the pit of her stomach. Desire spread through her bloodstream, and every time he pulled out, she hung on a precipice until he surged back inside.
“Ahh, that’s good,” he muttered next to her ear.
All she was capable of was a moan in response.
“Lauren.”
She whimpered as he continued his dedicated assault on her senses.
“Lauren,” he bit out again as he held himself at her entrance, ready to impale her once more. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes,” she managed as another wave of heat enveloped her.
“You’re mine, baby,” he said so gently that she was shaken by it. He continued in the same tone but with a thread of added force, “You best get used to the idea. It’s not something that’s going to go away, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier on us both if you don’t resist what you know is true.”
Lauren heard his demand and knew he was right. She was his. She didn’t know exactly when or where they’d crossed that line, but as she stood against the cool glass waiting for the impact of his thrust, she gave him what he wanted. “Yes, Logan. I’m yours.”
At her words, he slammed back inside with an impact and need that blew her mind and catapulted her world into the stratosphere.
****
Twenty minutes later, Logan walked up and met her as she came from having a shower. Her hair was wet and she wore one of his t-shirts. He smiled at her and then reached up and put his hands on her shoulders. “Happy birthday,” he said, in a low voice as he caressed her shoulder blades.
Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d said that to her tonight, but still, Lauren felt heat from his simple words. At the same time that she felt his touch, she also felt something cool at her neck as his fingers moved over her skin. He lifted her hair and moved the length of it over her shoulder as he dropped something around her throat and fastened the clasp at the back of her neck.
In a daze, she lifted a hand and felt the necklace that fell right below her collarbone. “Thank you,” she whispered, trying to see what he’d given her but failing without a mirror.
He kissed her forehead and led her by the hand to a mirror on the wall. “You want to see?”
“Yes,” she answered simply.
He turned her around and Lauren suppressed a gasp as she saw the delicate jewels around her neck. It was a beautiful necklace, but what held her attention were the emeralds and diamonds at the base of the necklace that formed a beautiful and intricate letter L.
Her nerves shifted restlessly and as she looked up, their glances connected in the mirror. His gaze was intent, compelling, and any smile he might have retained disappeared as he reached up and touched both the emeralds and her skin with an unyielding possession.
In that moment, she knew without a doubt in her mind.
The letter didn’t stand for Lauren.
Oh, no.
It stood for Logan, and it marked her as his, and the truth of that was reflected in the satisfaction that blazed from his eyes.
****
Ten days later, Logan knocked on Lauren’s door but she didn’t answer. He knew she was home, he saw her car in the space where she usually parked as he came up the steps to her apartment. Granted, he hadn’t spoken to her or texted her since the morning before, but he thought she knew he was coming over.
He came over most nights.
He knocked again and leaned on the doorbell and waited.
After about five minutes while he tried not to imagine crazy-assed scenarios, he finally heard some shuffling behind the door and her voice calling, “Just a minute.”
The chain rattled, and the door slid opened. She stood swaying in front of him, and he reached out to steady her. “Don’t get close,” she mumbled as she turned her head away, “I’m probably contagious.” She looked like hell, her hair was hanging in limp strings around her pale face and her nose was red.
He wasted no time and without thinking much about it, he put an arm behind her back and one under her legs and swung her up in his arms. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about me catching it. I don’t ever get sick.” He slammed the door shut with his booted foot. “Where do you want me to put you? In the bed or on the couch?”
“The couch is okay.”
“All right. For now.” He walked over to the couch, her weight negligible in his arms, and gently laid her down. “You need something to cover up with.”
“There’s a throw on my bed,” she managed right before she went into a coughing fit.
Logan turned away and went into the bedroom, which looked as if a hurricane had hit it. He grabbed the throw and a couple of pillows, and walked back out to her. He handed her one pillow, and helped her put the other behind her back. Then he shook out the throw and placed it over her.
She pulled it up to her chin and shivered.
He frowned and laid the back of his hand to her forehead, and then to her cheek. She was burning up. “Have you taken anything for fever?”
“No. This came on so suddenly. My throat was scratchy this morning when I left for work, and by noon I had aches and chills.” She lifted sad, blood-shot eyes to his. “I think I’m really sick.”
His hand gentled on her cheek. “You think so, sweetheart?” he asked in a voice that reflected a hint of humor and commiseration. He sat down on the edge of the couch, facing her. He lifted one of her hands, and surreptitiously, felt to make sure she had a strong pulse. There was no reason to think she wouldn’t, but you never knew, and he wanted to be sure.
She closed her eyes and remained silent, looking as if she was enjoying the feel of his hand on her hot skin.
“Do you want me to take you to the emergency room?”
She shook her head without opening her eyes. “I don’t think it’s life-threatening,” she said with amusement, as if he were overreacting.
“You’re obviously running a fever. Do one thing for me, okay?”
She opened one eye and watched him through the slit in her eyelid. “Okay.”
“Bend your head all the way down and see if you can put your chin on your chest.”
She looked at him as if her were insane, but she did as he asked before lifting her head back up. She raised one eyebrow in question.
“That didn’t hurt?” He asked.
“No.”
He swallowed hard in relief. “Okay. I guess you’re going to live.”
“What was that all about?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Something about a quick check for meningitis. My mother always made us do it when we were sick.”
She closed her eyes again. “That’s good to know.”
“I need to get something in you for that fever, though.”
“Okay,” she agreed weakly.
“Do you have anything here?”
“Top drawer in the bathroom.” She answered as she cuddled under the blanket.
Logan went to her bathroom and opened her top drawer. It was full of over-the-counter pain relievers, along with scissors, a hammer, tampons, and both opened and unopened packages of cosmetics. Did she not have a rhyme or reason for anything? Shaking his head, he grabbed a couple of the bottles of medications and went to the kitchen and got her a glass of water.
He offered her ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and a cold medicine that he knew contained a fever reducer. “Which one do you want?”
She cracked one eye again and groaned as she tried to come to a sitting position.
He dropped the medications and steadied her, and then lifted her enough so she’d be able to swallow. “Is ibuprofen okay?”
“Yeah.”
He shook out two pills and she took them into her hand. He held the glass to her lips as she swallowed them, one at a time.
When she relaxed back against the cushions, he sat down next to her again and pushed the hair off her forehead, trying to make her more comfortable. “Are you hungry?” he asked her as her eyes slid closed.
She shook her head.
He studied the wan look about her. “Let me rephrase that. Have you had anything to eat?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want anything.”
“Baby, you at least have to stay hydrated. I’ll fix you some soup.”
“I don’t have any,” she mumbled.
He slid to his feet. “I’ll run to the store and grab some. Chicken noodle? Or do you want something else?”
“No, that’s fine, but you really don’t have to go. I don’t think I could manage more than a few bites.”
“That’ll be better than nothing. You try to get some rest. I’ll be back in a few, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’s your key?”
“My key?”
“I don’t want you to have to wake up if you do manage to fall asleep.”
She waved her hand in the general direction of the kitchen counter. “Over there.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep, sweetheart.”
****
When she heard her front door open, Lauren surfaced from a groggy dream of Logan moving around her apartment while she was trying to get ready for work. She was sweaty and sticky, and the first thing she realized was that it hadn’t all been a dream; Logan had been here, because he was back. The second thing she realized was that her fever had broken. The chills were gone, and she kicked off the blanket that had been draped on top of her.
Pursuit Page 9
