Tender Loving Care

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Tender Loving Care Page 18

by Susan Mallery


  Melissa stood up and tossed the remaining berries into the sink. “I thought she had a key.”

  “No. I changed the locks the day she moved out.”

  She didn’t respond to his comment. Logan started to leave for his office, then paused, drawn back by the stiff set of her shoulders.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She slammed the dishwasher shut and turned to face him. Rage and anguish flared out from her eyes. Two bright spots of color stained her cheeks. “How could you? After all I’ve done for you and your daughter? I know I’m not like Fiona. I’m not one of the beautiful women who waltz in and out of your bed. But I’m a person with real feelings. Don’t you ever talk about me with her again.”

  The hurt was a tangible creature drawing the life from her body. The battle for control was won, but he wondered at what price. Somehow she’d been hurt. And he’d been the one to hurt her. “Melissa, I don’t understand.”

  He stepped forward to comfort her, but she shrank from his touch. “Don’t!”

  “What did I do? Tell me.”

  “You made fun of me behind my back.”

  “I’d never do that.”

  She folded her arms over her chest as though holding the pain inside. “Terribly domestic? Keeping me well trained? I’m not some woman you just picked up. I deserve better treatment than this. At the very least, you owe me a little respect.”

  “Melissa, you’ve got to believe me. She’s shooting in the dark. Fiona and I never even talk on the phone. She leaves a message with my secretary telling me when she’ll pick up Wendi. She hates the idea of anyone being happy. It’s her nature to make trouble. Trust me, I know.”

  Doubt and distrust mingled in Melissa’s eyes. He couldn’t bear the condemnation.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world,” he said.

  “Please. I know my place. I’m just the hired help, Logan.”

  Her lower lip trembled, and he wanted to pull her close and offer comfort. “You know you’re more than that.”

  “Oh? Exactly what am I to you?” She brushed away his attempt to speak. “Don’t bother. I know the answer. If it hadn’t been for Wendi, I would have left months ago.”

  He took a step toward her. She didn’t move back, but she didn’t move forward, either. “I’m glad you stayed.”

  “Why?”

  The pain continued. He could feel it but didn’t understand the source. All this suffering wasn’t about a careless comment by his ex-wife; it went deeper than that. What was she to him? Not a lover, although he wanted her with a hunger that could never die. Not just an employee.

  “Because you’re a good friend.”

  She looked away. “Gee, thanks. I’m overwhelmed with emotion.”

  What the hell was wrong? What did she want him to say? Frantically he tried to recall every word since Fiona had left. Only one stood out. Beautiful.

  For the first time, he looked at her. Not as someone who enjoyed her quirky humor and gentle smile, but as a stranger. She was…nothing like Fiona. Six months ago, he would have passed her on the street without a single glance. But since the accident, all that had changed.

  “I didn’t realize,” he said quietly. “The accident was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

  Her gaze jumped back to him. “What?”

  His hand cupped her face. “Do you remember that morning we went swimming?”

  Her skin flushed. “Yes.”

  “I promised I wouldn’t try anything again.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her fast. “So?”

  He leaned forward until their lips were inches apart. She smelled of magnolias and strawberries, warm days and hotter nights. “I want you. I’ve wanted you from the moment you half carried me into this house. Let me show you how beautiful and special I think you are. Release me from my word.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I don’t want your pity,” Melissa said.

  “And I don’t want yours.”

  “Why would I…” It didn’t make sense. Logan had everything going for him.

  “Because of what happened with Fiona.” Vulnerability took the edge off the desire in his eyes. “Tell me you want this as much as I do. Say yes.”

  She could deny him nothing. Why should she? She loved him. “Yes.”

  In a single fluid motion, he picked her up in his arms. Her arm went around his neck as she clung tightly. Did he mean to carry her to the bedroom? It was so romantic. She sighed and was lost.

  Bending over, he nudged the refrigerator open with his foot. “Champagne. Back shelf.”

  She leaned forward and grabbed the bottle. “Logan, it’s nine in the morning.”

  He looked down at her, hunger etching harsh lines from his nose to his lips. Gold eyes darkened. “We’ll only have a first time together once.”

  “Oh.” His voice licked along her skin, feeding the need and want just below the surface. Clutching the bottle, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  This was a side of him she’d never seen before. The thin veneer of civilization had crumbled, leaving behind a passionate and possibly dangerous man.

  They collected a single fluted glass, then he walked out of the kitchen. After making sure the front door was locked, he began the journey toward his bedroom. His arms made her feel secure, as though he would hold her forever. Did he know how much more than her body she was willing to share?

  Melissa could feel his heart pounding against hers. The rapid beat promised the world…and made her a little nervous. The scent of soap and clean skin mingled with the unmistakable fragrance of desire. Anticipation made her mouth go dry, her palms damp. What if she couldn’t please him? What if he realized that, compared with the other women in his life, she was just…ordinary?

  The doubts and fears that had haunted her all her life crashed in on her. When Logan reached his room and let her slip slowly to the ground, she found herself unable to look up at him.

  He took the champagne from her hand and quickly opened the bottle. The bubbly liquid foamed in the glass. He offered her a sip, but she shook her head and stepped back.

  The room was still. She could hear their breathing and the foaming of the bubbles. Her eyes still lowered, she could only see his bare legs and feet, but she could feel his confusion.

  He set the glass on the nightstand. “Melissa, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  He touched her chin and forced her to look at him. “Why?”

  Because I’m scared, she thought with a flash of temper. Because I need you to promise you won’t turn away again. “I’m not sure why. It just isn’t.”

  “I want you,” he said quietly, his face harsh with passion. Each word was crisp and distinct, as if to make sure she couldn’t misunderstand. “But I’ll respect your decision.”

  She watched him battle for control, the tendons in his neck tightening with tension, and yet his fingers barely grazed her cheek. The combination of desire and restraint was her undoing. She could deny him nothing—she loved him. Wasn’t this moment the culmination of her hopes? The heat from his body surrounded her in a protective cocoon, drawing her ever closer.

  Bending her head, she kissed the hand that cupped her jaw. “I want you, too.”

  The drapes were still drawn, leaving the room dim and mysterious. Logan stepped to the window and pulled the cord. The heavy fabric was swept aside and the area was flooded with morning sun. The shadows were chased to the far corners; the bed was illuminated by soft light.

  “I’ve thought about this for so long,” he said. “I need to see everything.” His husky voice vibrated with need.

  Slowly she raised her eyes to his. The gold was blinding, as though desire had set fire to the tawny depths. The slightly parted lips, the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest all indicated that he wanted…her. Not just a convenient body but her.

  “Oh, Logan.” She flung her arms around his neck an
d pressed her face against him. His T-shirt was soft against her skin, contrasting with the hard muscles beneath. Warm, strong hands soothed her head and back.

  At his urging, she moved slightly. Lean fingers slipped under her shirt and caressed her sensitive skin, then moved to the front and began unfastening the buttons. Haste made him clumsy.

  “I know,” he said, glancing down at her. “But I’ve been fantasizing about your breasts since…well, you know. And now, I can’t wait a minute longer. Is that all right?”

  “Yes.” She shrugged, letting the shirt fall from her shoulders.

  He swallowed and held himself perfectly still. “Take off your bra…please.”

  Now it was her turn to be unsteady. She fumbled with the catch, still fighting shyness. Never taking her eyes from his face, she removed the lacy garment and let it drift to the floor. The sound of his quick intake of breath brought a pleased smile to her lips. So this is the power of which they spoke. She was strong now.

  He bent down and pulled her close. Their lips met, brushing once, twice, fleeting contact that gave her courage. His arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he’d never let her go. His head tilted slightly and the kiss deepened.

  At the moment their mouths opened, rediscovering tastes and textures, his hands began to caress her back. Slow strokes became faster, broader, then slipped around to trace her sides and up higher…closer.

  Her breasts swelled in anticipation, straining for his touch. They ached for the release. It was like slamming into a wall of pleasure, she thought as she clung to him. Her body trembled, her legs barely able to stay straight. Wave after wave of sensation crashed.

  As his tongue met and danced with hers, he reached the full curves. He took them in his palms, his fingers finding the turgid peaks of her nipples. Fingertips flickered across the nubs, sending fire racing to all parts of her body. It heated, aroused, then moved to the core where it burned in uncomfortable impatience.

  Her hands moved from his shoulders to the hem of his T-shirt. When he made no move to release her, she was forced to find her way across his chest from under the cotton. Fingers lost themselves in the rough texture of his hair and traced patterns around male nipples, as hard and sensitive as her own. When frustration became unbearable, she pulled her head back.

  “Take this off now,” she whispered.

  He chuckled, pulled the shirt off and tossed it on top of her clothes. “Better?”

  “Much,” she said as she reached for him.

  “Not so fast. I want to see everything.”

  In a flash, she recalled those thousand extra sit-ups she’d been promising herself. Inadequacy reared its ugly head. But when he reached for the snap on her shorts and she felt the unsteadiness in his hands, the fears fell away as easily as the rest of her clothes.

  They stood naked before each other. She’d never realized a man could be beautiful. He was all long, hard lines of flowing muscle dipped in bronze. The deep tan was even, except for the light patch highlighting his arousal.

  His arms hung loosely at his sides and he dared her with his smile. She reached out to touch the erect length of him. He allowed her one slow stroke, satin slipped over steel, then covered her hand with his. “Easy, my love, or we will have finished before we’ve begun.”

  “I would have thought a big, strong man like you would have more self-control, Logan.”

  He swept her up in his arms and set her on the unmade bed. “I do, but there’s been a certain lady leading me on a merry chase for the last three months. It’s enough to try any man’s patience.” He nibbled on her neck. “Or control.”

  She arched against his touch and gasped. “It’s been three months?”

  His eyes met hers. Honesty and desire flared in equal measures. “Longer. Much longer.”

  Opening her arms, she drew him to her. Tongues and fingers traced, discovered, tasted. Each breast was given thorough attention. The underside was nibbled, the hollow between licked. She could only lie back and give in to his intense attention.

  “How does it feel?” he asked, then ran his tongue across her right nipple.

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Wonderful.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “I feel like…”

  He moved up to her neck and trailed moist kisses to her ear. “Say it.”

  It was difficult to concentrate with his hands dancing along her ribs. They slid lower, teasingly close to the apex of her thighs. “Wh-what?”

  “Are you on fire?”

  Flames raced through her body. “Oh, yes.”

  “Good.” His lips touched hers. “I imagined us…together…many times, but I never knew it would be…”

  The kiss was brief…too brief. “Would be?” she prompted, running her hands across his back.

  “Perfect. That you’d be so perfect.”

  He plunged his tongue inside her mouth as his fingers found her moist heat. Instinctively she raised her hips slightly to meet his touch. She could feel him seeking her core. Their legs brushed. Then one finger found the magic. It moved slowly, filling her with pleasure.

  He raised his head and smiled; like a conquering warrior, he savored his victory. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she began the journey to release. Her breathing came faster, her hips shifted slightly.

  “Not yet,” he whispered, rolling to his side and pulling her next to him. “I want to play some more.”

  Play? If this was a game, she didn’t think she’d survive the real thing.

  After settling on his back, he urged her to slide on top of him. “I couldn’t,” she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

  “Of course you could.” His gold-brown eyes flared. “I want to see as well as touch. I need you. Only you.”

  “Logan, I…”

  He kissed her softly, gently, explaining his desire in the oldest of languages.

  Her fingers lost themselves in the curly hair on his chest. Slowly she rose over him, shifting one leg until she rested upon the ridge of his desire. The hardness pressed exquisitely against her dampness. By rocking her hips gently, she kept them both somewhere between pleasure and madness. His hands lifted and massaged her breasts.

  “You are obsessed,” she teased, then groaned when he gently pinched the nipples.

  “And you’re beautiful. I’ve been dreaming about your breasts for ages.”

  She leaned down and nipped his side. “That’s for telling stories.”

  “It’s true.” He grinned. “The first time you helped me into the house, I almost fell. When you leaned on me, I felt them pressing against me and I’ve been fascinated ever since.”

  His compliment brought a blush to her face. In the past, she would have turned away to hide the embarrassment, but now, naked with their most private parts ready to be joined, she was able to expose the secrets within her soul.

  He pulled her down so their lips could touch. His tongue outlined her mouth with a continuous wet line, then dove inside to mate with her own. It was time.

  He rolled them until she was on her back and he knelt above her. Reaching for the nightstand drawer, he smiled. “I assume you aren’t protected.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Why?”

  “Male ego.”

  She quivered in anticipation. “You’re forgiven.”

  Her legs spread to welcome him. When she felt the tip of his desire press against her, she raised up slightly. Inch by inch, he slipped inside…filling her.

  There was no space left he didn’t touch. Unused muscles stretched to accommodate him. Breath fanned her cheeks as he rained gentle kisses on her face and neck. Around her, she inhaled his scent from the pillow. The knowledge that her head rested in the same place his did each night was as much an intimacy as the joining of their bodies. Her hands moved down to cup and squeeze his buttocks. She felt an answering reflex deep inside.

  When he moved, it wasn’t with the fierceness she had expected. A man who h
ad been without for so long could be forgiven a quick completion. But Logan withdrew and reentered with slow, lingering strokes. If he sought to drive her crazy, he was successful. If he yearned to make her whimper, he was a master.

  The pulsating want grew. Their breathing increased, the tandem rush of air fueling the flames that licked along her skin. She felt him tense.

  Raising himself up, he touched his fingers to the secret spot between her legs. A half-dozen strokes brought her to the edge of release.

  “Open your eyes,” he growled.

  She looked at him. Passion hardened the planes of his face, drawing his mouth into a straight line and deepening the hollows in his cheeks. He drew closer to the peak. Muscles tightened in his neck and his head rolled back.

  And then there was nothing left to do but fall into the vortex. Concentric circles of pleasure and heat rippled through her body. She rose with him to a summit, then slipped lower and lower until she was once again able to draw in air and refocus on the world.

  He withdrew and moved beside her, then pulled her closer until they touched from shoulders to toes. His fingers pushed the wispy bangs away from her face, leaving her bare to his searing gaze.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked quietly.

  “The place where you keep your passion hidden. I want you to show me that door and promise you’ll never lock me out.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, then a longer one to her lips.

  Their legs entwined. The rough hair grated deliciously against her calves and thighs. She could lie with him forever.

  Logan leaned over and picked up the glass of champagne. He held it steady while she sipped.

  “Five minutes after ten in the morning isn’t any less decadent than nine,” she said as she reached up to wipe away a drop clinging to the corner of her mouth.

  “Allow me.” His tongue flicked away the moisture. “And when was the last time you were decadent? Let go. Reach for the stars.”

  The only thing she wanted to reach for was him…again. The hunger was satisfied, but only for the moment. She knew, with a certainty that couldn’t be ignored, she would always want him. That Logan should be the one to claim her heart didn’t seem fair. While she wanted to believe he loved her, the issue of trust had yet to be resolved. There would be no other man for her, but how did Logan feel?

 

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