Fyre & Revenge

by Mina Carter

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” If he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to explode from sheer need and frustration. She started to lift up, to drag him to where she needed him most, when he chuckled and moved.

  The first stab of his tongue into her heated flesh took her by surprise. A whimper escaped as he spread her folds again and slowly licked all the way up from her entrance to her clit. Once he’d found the small nub of flesh he stopped, licking and nibbling, drawing it into his mouth and suckling until Rae moaned aloud in pleasure.

  “Oh god yeah, that feels good.” She encouraged him, her hips rocking as he played her body expertly. As though he knew exactly where and how to touch her to bring her to instant arousal, knew which parts of her were the most sensitive, which touches and strokes she liked the best. If she hadn’t known better even she’d have been misled into thinking he was actually her husband, he seemed to know her body so well.

  He slid his finger into her pussy, eliciting a loud moan from her. A moan that was nothing compared to the one she gave as he added a second blunt ended digit. His fingers moved in and out of her body, fucking her.

  She bit her lip, trying to hold in her moans. Trying to hold back the impending climax as he curled his fingers up inside her, finding the sensitive spot hidden behind her pelvis, and stroking it.

  “Come for me Rae.” He urged between licks and sucks at her clit. “I want to hear you scream, hear my name on your lips.”

  She shivered, trying to hold on as long as she could, but it was impossible. With a small cry her body tightened, hips bucking against him as white hot pleasure radiated out from her core to fill every cell in her body. She moaned, riding the sensual waves as he slid his fingers from her.

  Her back arched, her hands cupping her breasts as he watched her, standing up to pull his jeans and boxers off with short, jerky movements. His erection bobbed up, freed from its confinement to stand proud against his taut belly.

  “Christ, don’t look at me like that Rae, or this is going to be the quickest fuck you’ve ever had.” He dropped to his knees between her thighs. His big body trembled as he hooked his hands under her knees and pulled her towards him with a quick movement.

  Rae laughed, on the tail end of her climax and feeling better than she had in months, years. “Whoa! Slow down Casa—” Her eyes widened as, without warning, he reached between them and slid the broad head of his cock against her heated flesh, slick from his tongue and her own excitement. “—nova, I’m not going anywhere.”

  She caught her breath as he pushed into her. A small movement, just the head of his cock pushing into her, stretching her. He moved again, sliding in a little more, then sliding out almost all the way again. His eyes locked onto hers, watching her every second as she watched him. Saw the heat in the pale orbs flare each time he pushed forwards, working himself deeper inside her with each short movement. She shuddered, almost on the verge of coming again as her body welcomed him, stretching around him.

  He growled as he pushed the last half inch, sliding into her to the hilt. Rae shivered as she felt him pulse within her, his cock jerking in response to the wet heat of her body. “That feels good,” she whispered as she stroked a hand along his ribcage.

  “Good, because this is going to feel fan-bloody-tastic.” He moved, sliding nearly all the way out and driving back in with a power that took Rae’s breath away.

  “Oh god, yes!” She wrapped her legs about him as he set up a hard and fast rhythm. Her body was slick and wet, more than prepared for him, so his forcefulness only added to her excitement. The heat between them drove higher with each thrust of his hips against hers, the only sound in the room the slide and slap of skin against skin and her soft moans. It was just the sort of sex Rae liked, not violent but strong, powerful sex. The sort of sex that had her hot and bothered for days afterwards just thinking about it.

  She whimpered as the tension she thought had been relieved by her earlier orgasm returned tenfold, her pussy clamping tighter around him as he drove into her. Braced on his arms above her his expression was tight, controlled as he moved over her, within her. As though he was holding on to every last bit of control he had. She moaned, the need and pressure growing in her core as he thrust into her again and again.

  “That’s it Rae, come for me, I want you to come all over my cock.” He buried his face into the curve of her neck, his voice a growl as his lips found the sensitive spot under her ear again.

  She shuddered, his words opening the floodgates. Her back arched, pleasure exploding out from her core in a lazy spiral. The wet heat of her climax flooded her channel, bathing his cock. He gasped as the heat and tightness of her body around his drove him over the edge. With a hoarse cry he slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing and jerking as he came.

  Chapter Six

  She was such a hypocrite. Much later that night Rae lay on her back, Logan fast asleep next to her, and studied the cracks in the ceiling. She should really get that sorted. With a bit of filler and a lick of paint, it would be as good as new. Well, maybe not as good as new, since the building was over two hundred years old. She shook her head, folding her arm under it as sleep continued to evade her.

  She fidgeted, her eyes moving over Logan’s sleeping form. He was an incredible lover. Rae enjoyed sex, always had, but there was sex and there was sex. Logan elevated the mere act into something approaching an art form. How many women had he been with to have learnt all that? And why did she care? She was using him to get what she wanted; his sexual history shouldn’t matter a jot to her.

  They’d made love three times, twice downstairs and once after he’d carried her up the stairs, giggling and protesting he couldn’t carry her weight all the way. He’d silenced her with a kiss so hot she’d almost melted into a puddle on the stairs right then.

  She sighed, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke gently along his arm. As his ‘wife,’ she had it all—his love—and she was finding out that he was a very loving, affectionate guy indeed… She huffed and turned over, away from him, and pressed her eyes closed. Putting temptation from her mind as she tried to sleep.

  But she wasn’t his wife. And the deeper she got into this, the more worried she got that he did have a wife somewhere. He’d accepted the presence of a wife, her presence, so readily. Surely he’d know, deep down, if he was married or not? If he loved someone enough to make a life-long commitment to them?

  Would she? She’d never felt that sort of love, the all-encompassing deeply romantic love she’d have to feel to marry someone.

  Perhaps that was why she was single at the moment. She’d wanted what her parents had before her mother’s death. A deep, true love that had lasted years, even beyond the grave. Her father had been in love with Rae’s mother to the day he had died, when he had succumbed to the cancer he’d been successfully fighting. As though he lost the will to fight.

  She sighed and punched the pillow, mangling it into a more comfortable shape for her head. This time when she closed her eyes, she started to drift into an uneasy sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning dawned bright and early, Rae slithering from the bed long before Logan woke to shower, and headed downstairs to make breakfast. She worked most Saturdays so she treated herself to time off during the week, depending on what appointments she had on what days. Today she had the entire morning free; her first appointment of the day was Mrs. Collins at two o’clock.

  “Heya sleepyhead.” She smiled as Logan appeared in the doorway. Bare chested, with his hair mussed from sleep, he looked adorable. Just looking at him set her pulse racing. Perhaps it was the way he moved, a loose-limbed walk as he headed for the coffee machine with a grunt, hand scrubbing at his short hair.

  He poured a mug of the rich, dark liquid, his dark eyes closing in bliss as he raised it to his lips and took a deep breath of the aromatic steam. Rae busied herself at the stove, bizarrely pleased she’d gone to the trouble of digging the thing out and cleaning it up
so he could have real coffee this morning. She made do with instant but she’d wanted to do something, well, special. From the look on his face, somewhere between relief and bliss, she knew she’d got it bang on.

  “How do you like your eggs?” She nodded towards the chair to indicate he should sit down. Deftly she moved pans around the stove, scooping tomatoes and bacon onto a plate for him and adding toast.

  “Err, well done, flipped on both sides please.” Logan moved over to the chair, collapsing into it to hunch over the table, his hands wrapped protectively around his mug.

  “Coming right up.”

  Within a minute she pushed the plate onto the table next to him. She might not be a gourmet cook but Rae knew all about hearty, home cooked meals. She didn’t do them often—her hips would definitely not have thanked her for that—but when she did cook breakfast, she liked to do it right. Lean, crispy bacon, griddled tomatoes… The whole nine yards. All topped off by thick toast with lashings of butter.

  “I hope it’s all right.” She felt a twinge of guilt as she slid into the seat opposite Logan. She’d have to do another hour on the treadmill at the gym to work this all off. Her teeth sank into the toast with relish. Oh, but it was worth it.

  “It looks fantastic.” He assured her and silence fell as they ate. Before long both their plates were clear and Logan leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh.

  “If that’s the way you cook, will you marry me?” he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

  “We… we’re already married. Technically.” Rae paused a little on the lie, her cheeks flaring scarlet and avoiding his gaze as she cleared up the plates to carry them over to the sink. “So no, I can’t marry you. You can’t marry someone twice.”

  * * *

  You can’t marry someone twice. The words revolved around in Logan’s head as they walked along the narrow footpath down to the beach. He’d managed to persuade Rae out of her planned cleaning routine to accompany him on a walk. Just the sort of thing a guy desperately trying to mend relations with his estranged wife would do.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they walked in companionable silence. He had to admit, even now, dressed for the cold in a thick waxed jacket and boots, with her glorious hair covered by a cap, she still stirred his blood. That was a surprise; he’d never considered the country bumpkin look to be sexy.

  But it was less the clothes and more the woman in them. Usually he went for the leggy model types. For no other reason than they littered his preferred social scene and they were easy to pick up and discard. He avoided women like Rae—women who didn’t play the game, women who wanted the whole romantic fairytale of the two point four kids and cutesy little house—as though they had the plague. He shivered and jammed his hands further into the pockets of his borrowed jacket. It was miles too big for him—she’d said it was her father’s—and every time he moved cold air tried to worm its way up under his shirt and thick sweater.

  Actually you could marry someone twice, provided you were already married to them—a renewal of vows. But Logan hadn’t said anything, the way Rae had turned her back telling him that subject was well and truly closed.

  His lips quirked a little as she led the way down the ever-narrowing path, an arrangement which should have allowed him to ogle her pert little ass at his leisure. If not for the long foul weather jacket she had on. Now that was why he liked the models… Skimpy little dresses showing nearly all they had.

  But, somehow, even though the jacket was as unsexy as hell and was blocking his view, not being able to see her figure swaddled under the shapeless mass was even more alluring. His imagination worked overtime, drawing on his memories of last night, as he imagined what she looked like under there.

  Last night, now that had been something else. Logan considered himself a connoisseur of women. He loved women, loved the way they looked and felt. The little things they did, the perfume they wore. But always, always he was the one in control, a player on the top of his game.

  Not last night.

  As untutored as she was, Rae had wrested his honed control from him and reduced him to a man desperate to claim the woman in his arms.

  “I don’t know why you wanted to come down here, it’s not sunbathing weather.” Rae grumbled as she unlatched the gate that led to the beach and held it open for him to come past her. “Hurry up, this thing’s heavy and it’s got a hell of a kick on it when you let go.”

  He frowned, hurrying past her and turning to watch as she scooted through, holding the gate at arm’s length to let go. Sure enough, the pressure on the spring hinge snatched the wrought iron gate out of her hand, the metal smacking against the post with a clang.

  “Isn’t that dangerous? You could have health and safety down on you like a tonne of bricks for that.”

  “Actually, they’d be down on you,” she pointed out, burying her hands in her pockets as quick as she could. “This scrubland and path are part of the Manor property, and you, well your company at least, own it. So, your gate, your problem.”

  Logan laughed. “Right, serves me right for being picky. I’ll ring in and get someone onto it. I wouldn’t want a kid taking their fingers off or something.”

  Rae wrinkled her nose, feeling guilty for needling him. This situation was getting to her, really getting to her. She shouldn’t have let last night happen—no way, no how—and the guilt was eating her up inside. “Oh, it’s okay. The local children know to be careful.”

  “Hmm, the locals might but I assume you get tourists in the summer? There might be an accident. Better safe than sorry. Anyway, enough depressing stuff. We’re supposed to be relaxing…” With that he scooped her up, Rae squeaking in surprise at the sudden movement.

  “Logan! What are you doing?” She grabbed his shoulders tightly as he spun her around and around, although she knew there was no way he’d drop her. In his arms she felt safe and secure.

  “Having fun!” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips as he put her down. “Come on, last one to the water washes up later!”

  Rae laughed and shook her head as he took off along the sand like a big kid. She followed at a more leisurely pace, wondering how long it had been since he relaxed, really relaxed, like this. Their walk took them the length of the beach, Logan becoming quite the beachcomber, investigating each washed up clump of seaweed tangled debris with an enthusiasm that reminded Rae of her father.

  Logan, for his part, was surprising even himself. Much as he’d grumbled mentally about being stuck here in the back of beyond for the next few days, he was finding the place did have its charms. Well, other than Rae.

  He squatted by a clump of brackish seaweed, sorting through it with a short stick he’d picked up earlier for anything interesting. It was surprising what could be found washed up, he mused, shifting a clump of seaweed. Then he saw it.

  Buried under the wet mass was a perfectly heart-shaped shell.

  He reached out and plucked it from the wet sand, using his fingertips to brush off the grains that clung to it. He wasn’t a shell expert but even he could tell it was unusual, the shape not caused by damage but seemed to have formed that way. There was even a tiny hole in the vee at the top of the heart, perfect for a chain.

  He smiled to himself, standing and looking around for Rae. She seemed to be buying his act so far, all bar the sticky moment last night when he’d thought she’d been about to come clean. He couldn’t let her do that, not yet. This game wasn’t finished yet. Not now that he’d had a taste of her. It would take a lot more nights like last night before he had her out of his system.

  She was a little way ahead of him, her eyes on the skyline out to sea. He trotted over, slid his arms around her waist from behind. “I have something for you.” He planted a kiss on the side of her neck. God, she smelled so good.

  “Oh? It had better not be slimy seaweed mister!” she warned and arched her neck in unconscious invitation. Logan chuckled, dropping another kiss on the soft skin and reached around
her to reveal his find.

  “Nope, not seaweed. It’s pretty, just like you.”

  Her intake of breath was answer enough as she reached out with delicate fingers to pick the shell out of his palm. “That’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one shaped like a heart before.”

  “That’s because it was waiting for me to come along and find it for you,” Logan whispered, playing the game, wrapping her up in the moment and using emotion against her.

  Trouble was, he felt the pull too, the temptation to believe in this and fall under his own spell. Perhaps it could work. No matter how they’d gotten together didn’t they say true love conquered all?

  What the fuck? Since when did he start buying into the fairytale? Next he’d be believing in Santa Claus and bloody ‘happily ever afters.’ Clearing his throat, Logan forced his mind away from dangerous waters. “We can get a chain for it if you like. I should get back into the office. Get back into the swing of things and see if that kick-starts my memory. ”

  She stiffened slightly in his arms. “You’re leaving already? The doctor said you couldn’t drive until you had your check up next week.”

  Was that relief or disappointment in her voice? Logan couldn’t tell, but there was a slight hesitation. It should be relief with the dangerous game she was playing here. Relief to get rid of him so she wouldn’t be anywhere near the fallout when he ‘regained’ his memory. But his ego wanted it to be disappointment he was going, his male pride clamouring for her to want him around. Not that it mattered; she wasn’t getting rid of him that easily.

  “I can’t, so I got a rental company to send a car down. They’re dropping it off later so I was going to ask you if you’d drive me back up? I checked your appointments diary and I saw your appointment tomorrow had cancelled…” he trailed off, as though waiting for her answer. But he didn’t give her time to speak, wrapping his arms tighter around her and snuggling his face into her neck to kiss her again.