He pressed his lips together, trying to hide a smile and nodded. “Okay. Go on.”
She shrugged and glanced around the room again. “He obviously decided this lifestyle was for him…” She cleared her throat and tried to pull away her hand, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I can’t stop wondering how far down this path you went… you know, the path you started with me.” God, she hated the whine in her voice, but the question was out there, and she couldn’t do anything but hold her breath and wait for his answer.
“This lifestyle is definitely suited for Lucas, and I’m proud of him for staying true to himself, even though it’s cost him dearly. But I left it all behind the day I left you in Raleigh.”
Her breath caught in her throat and her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. “What?”
How could he just stop? It was his nature, who he was, like Lucas. He never tried to tell Lizbeth what to do or how to handle herself outside the bedroom, but in the bedroom, he couldn’t not be dominant. It was just… him.
“I don’t want to get into the private details of my life any more than you want to hear them.”
His voice pulled her from her runaway thoughts, and she snapped her gaze to his. He was so right about that. A part of her still wanted to believe the twins were conceived through immaculate conception.
“But I will tell you it was never satisfying. Let’s leave it at that. Okay?”
She nodded her head, too bewildered to say anything intelligent.
“I could ask you the same questions.” His jaw was tight, his eyes tense, and she figured he actually was asking her the same thing without coming right out with it.
Dominance and submission had gained popularity in recent years, but she never considered exploring the true essence of the lifestyle with anyone else. She’d never trusted anyone enough to completely give herself over to them and hadn’t even realized until this weekend that might’ve been the missing puzzle piece that could have satisfied her all these years.
“I’ve never considered submitting to anyone but you.”
His smile grew wide and cocky, but his eyes shimmered with love. “Good. Now that’s settled.” He pushed off the bed and stalked back to the armoire. “Where was I?”
She watched him go back to making a selection from the various floggers hanging in the cabinet, hugely relieved to know this part of their relationship remained sacred because they never shared it with another.
But now she was even more curious about his knowledge of the toys. “Sooo… How do you know what you’re doing with those? Am I your guinea pig?”
“I would never use you as a guinea pig.” He turned around long enough to flash her a broad smile. “That was Lucas’s job. Can you believe he let me practice on him?”
Yes, actually, she could. Lucas would do anything for Logan—and vice versa—so yeah, she could totally see him stripping off his shirt and letting Logan practice on him. “Yeah, especially if he thought it would help you with me.”
She spoke softly, not meaning to actually speak out loud at all, but Logan heard her anyway.
“You’re right,” he said, moving back to the bed and reaching out to help her get repositioned on her hands and knees. “He would’ve done anything to help me make this happen.”
At the first touch of the leather tails on her shoulders, a shiver of excitement ripped through Lizbeth, causing her to shake nearly uncontrollably. She dropped her head forward to the mattress and moaned as the strands trailed down her back, over the curve of her ass, and down to her sex. Logan leaned over and kissed her temple as he continued to tickle the backs of her thighs, her calves, her feet, then back up to her ass. The strokes tickled but also burned like a lit match, leaving a trail of fire along her skin.
“Oh God.” She arched her back and hissed as he swung the flogger in earnest and a streak of fire blazed down the delicate skin of her right butt cheek. Before she had time to regain her equilibrium, another stroke landed, this one on the other side. And so it went, back and forth, back and forth, in a steady rhythm that drove her to the edges of delirium and left her quivering with the need to come.
She burned for more of the stinging strokes and nearly rocketed off the bed when he made a gentle upward stroke that brushed across her clit and sex. “I’m gonna come, Logan. I can’t hold back.”
“Yes, you can,” he said as the strokes stopped, leaving her sitting at the edge of what was bound to be one of the most intense orgasms of her life. She was so close, just one more little flick… Hell, one strong gust of wind would knock her over the ledge. But neither the stroke nor the breeze came, and as he brushed a single finger down her spine and kissed her neck, she slowly backed away from the edge of the abyss.
“Please, Logan. Please make me come.”
Her fingers twitched with the temptation to reach between her legs and take care of things herself, but the wait was always worth the torment, so she kept her fingers locked around the sheet and forced herself to stay in position.
“Have I ever not let you come, sweetheart?”
She bit back a choking laugh. “No, you always get me there eventually. It’s the eventually part that’s killing me.”
The bed shifted under his weight, and she realized he’d been taking off his clothes while giving her a breather. He slipped up behind her and stroked the head of his cock against her throbbing pussy. Thank God they decided condoms weren’t necessary early on—he hadn’t been with anyone but Bobbi Jo, and while Lizbeth had gotten around, she never had unprotected sex. Otherwise, they would’ve broken the bank restocking their supply.
“The wait is always worth it.” He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her shoulder. “Just like the years-long wait to be with you again.”
“If you make me wait years for this orgasm, I might have to hurt you.”
“Hmmm…”
The thick head of his cock stretched her walls as he pressed in an inch, then stopped, causing her to clench in response and beg for more. “Please. Please take me. Don’t tease me any longer.”
She arched her back and wiggled her ass, trying to convince him to see things her way, but he was set on dragging this out as long as possible and driving her crazy in the process.
“I have a question to ask you first.” He eased in an inch farther, then withdrew.
The serious edge to his voice caught her attention, and despite her desire to stay focused on the physical aspects of what was happening, she could tell whatever he wanted to ask was important. So she locked down on her desire to drive back, forcing him to take her completely, and turned to look over her shoulder. “I’m listening.”
He ran his hand down the center of her back to the crease of her ass, then back up to her hairline. Locking his palm around the back of her neck to hold her in place, he said, “Things won’t be easy, but while we’re figuring it all out, I need to know you’re mine.”
She wanted to tell him she’d always been his. That’s why she never married and long ago gave up on the idea of ever having kids. But that hadn’t kept her from playing the field and sleeping with an army of men, and that’s what was on his mind now.
The intensely possessive look in his eyes had her heart thundering and her pussy clenching tightly around him as she drew in a shuddering breath and said, “My heart has always belonged to you. And now that you’re back in my life, I could never share my body with another man.”
Relief swept across his face a split second before his jaw tightened, he drew back his hips, and rammed into her, driving home the point she was his in every way.
This was a claiming, a marking, a branding… She was his. His hands gripped her hips as he drove into her again and again, and all she could do was grasp the bedding and hold on so he didn’t drive her so far up the bed she rammed her head into the headboard.
His hand snaked around her waist, his fingers clasped onto her clit, and with a solid pinch, he said, “Come now.”
And God, did she ever. She buck
ed and rolled with him as he roared out his release and continued to drive into her like a man possessed. As the waves crashed down on her, a drum beat echoed in her head. She thought it was her pounding heartbeat echoing in her ears, and then she realized it really was a drumbeat. A constant, steady beating on the door.
And then Lucas’s voice rang through the quiet of the room. “Logan… open the fucking door.”
Chapter Ten
Logan drew in a shuddering breath and blinked a couple of times, clearing his vision, while his brain tried to fit together the pieces of this awkward puzzle. Lizbeth was on her hands and knees, gasping for air. He was arched over her, buried balls deep, and his brother was pounding down the door.
“What the fuck?” His voice was even froggier than normal after that round of intense pleasure, but nothing would’ve reached his brothers ears over the cadence of his heavy fist beating on the door.
Logan wanted to be annoyed… or amused by the thought of someone calling to complain about the earth-shattering noise he and Lizbeth just made, but the tone of Lucas’s voice as he repeated again, “Logan, for the love of God, wrap that shit up and open the damned door,” told Logan something was wrong. Seriously wrong.
He pulled away from Lizbeth, then tossed the sheet over her before padding bare-ass naked to the door. If someone passed by in the hallway and caught a glimpse of his half-mast cock, who the fuck cared? They were in a sex club after all.
As he ripped open the door, the utter despair on Lucas’s face confirmed his worst fears. “What’s wrong?”
“Bobbi Jo called—”
Panic clawed at his throat and a scream ripped through his head as every cell in his body snapped rigid with fear for his children.
Reading his mind, Lucas threw his hands up in the air, as if trying to stop Logan from tripping on his thoughts. “The kids are fine. Everyone got out okay, but the house is on fire.”
He sucked in air and exhaled sharply as the kids are fine registered strong and steady in his brain, but the house is on fire was taking longer to sink in, and he blinked with confusion as words failed him and emotions warred within.
Fortunately, Lizbeth stepped up next to him and started asking the questions he couldn’t form. “Whose house is on fire? The one Bobbi Jo and the kids live in or Logan’s?”
He latched onto her strong, steady voice and allowed it to ground him while he gathered his thoughts.
“Bobbi Jo’s house,” Lucas said. “The kids have been trying to call Logan, and when they couldn’t reach him, Bobbi Jo called me.”
Logan pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and ground against them as his brain snapped back online with sudden clarity. “I put my phone on silent because the kids were driving me crazy.” Shit. Could he be any more of a selfish son of a bitch? His kids had been in danger… their fucking house was on fire, and he’d silenced his phone because he didn’t want to be bothered.
He must’ve spoken aloud at least part of his thoughts, because Lucas and Lizbeth both started in on how he was entitled to privacy, this wasn’t his fault, and even if the kids got through to him, it wouldn’t have changed anything. But he tuned them out as he turned and reached for his cell phone with shaking hands.
Fourteen missed calls.
Fourteen. Fucking. Missed. Calls.
He dropped his bare ass onto the chair and flipped through the call list, needing to see for himself that each of the kids had called so he would know for sure they were okay. Five missed calls from Bobbi Jo. Three from Brianna. Two from Luke, and four from Maggie.
Lucas stepped into the room and shut the door, then sat in the chair opposite Logan. “The fire department is still there battling the blaze. It sounds bad, bro, but it’s just a house and things. The kids are fine. Their mother is fine. That’s all that matters.”
“You’re right,” Logan said while numbly nodding his agreement. “I can’t believe the one time I silence my phone this happens.” He glanced around the room, cataloging his scattered belongings, mentally calculating the length of time it would take to pack and get on the road.
And then his gaze landed on Lizbeth, still wrapped in the sheet, standing by the door, her full lips drawn with the weight of her concern.
He squeezed his eyes shut as pain ripped through his chest. He promised her he wouldn’t go anywhere this time, yet here he was trying to figure out how long it would take to get his things and run out the door. Rage and frustration built in his throat to the point he feared he might explode.
“You should call and talk to the kids so you can hear for yourself they’re okay.” Her voice was close, and he opened his eyes to find her kneeling in front of him.
God, he loved this woman more than she would ever know. And how could she possibly know the depths of his feelings when life kept throwing shit at him and pulling him away.
But how could he not go to his children who needed him?
“Yeah… yeah… I guess I need to call Bobbi Jo first, though.” He looked at Lucas. “What did you tell her?”
He didn’t care if Bobbie Jo knew he was with Lizbeth—the woman she never knew existed. But if she knew he was at Pandora’s—her idea of the most vile, disgusting place on Earth—her mental disposition would probably be ten times worse than expected under the circumstances.
Obviously, the kids didn’t know about their uncle’s adventures into the kinky side of sex or that he turned his passion into a profitable business. But Bobbi Jo did, and it offended all her senses, including the one she liked to refer to the most—good old-fashioned common sense. She’d refused to set foot in the building, even while they’d been doing renovations, before any of the theme rooms were built or the equipment moved in.
“I told her I didn’t know why you weren’t answering, but I’d find you.” He tilted his head to the side. “There’s a full house downstairs and it’s rocking pretty hard, so I’m sure she knows you’re here, at Pandora’s. But that’s all.”
“I’ll… uhh…” Lizbeth turned in a circle, as if seeking a rock to climb under. Then her gaze settled on the bathroom. “I’ll go shower and give you privacy to make your calls.”
His heart screamed at him to tell her, “NO!” He didn’t want her to go. He needed her with him. Now. Always. But logically, he knew it would be easier to talk to Bobbi Jo if he wasn’t concerned about saying something that might be misconstrued by Lizbeth or upset her.
You mean like letting her think you want her locked in the bathroom so you have privacy to talk to your soon-to-be ex-wife?
He took in Lucas’s closed expression, which told him everything Lucas thought. Way to go, bro. But you’ve got enough on you right now, so I’m not going to beat your ass. But when this is over, we’re going to the mat.
He dropped back his head, closed his eyes, and cursed the universe, the gods of fire, and himself. And then he drew in a deep breath and stood, grabbed his sweatpants, and called Bobbi Jo.
Through heaving sobs, she told him the fire was still burning and the house appeared to be a total loss. “What are we going to do? We don’t have anywhere to stay. We can’t stay with my parents. Their house is too small, and my dad can’t handle the chaos of three kids—”
“Stop right there, Bobbi Jo. You guys can stay with me until we figure out something permanent.” And that right there was the last thing he wanted to say, the last thing he would’ve said if Lizbeth had been in the room with him. But once again, his strong sense of duty and responsibility propelled him to do what he believed was right, whether it was what he wanted or not.
Her sobs slowed and she drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure?”
Yeah, unfortunately, he was. Regardless of the problems this would cause with Lizbeth—and how could it not, considering the tender state of their young relationship—he didn’t have a choice. He bought a four-bedroom house so each of the kids would have their own rooms when they came to stay with him. It didn’t make sense for them to stay anywhere else. Bobbi Jo was an issue
… but he would deal with that later.
“I’m sure. Where are the kids?”
“Brian’s dad is bringing Luke home now. I told him there wasn’t a need, there’s nothing to see, but he insisted. Brianna just got here, and Maggie is being checked out by the paramedics.”
His ass hit the chair with a thud as his legs gave out. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing, she’s fine. But since she was home with me when the fire started, they’re checking her over to make sure she’s okay.”
Unable to hold up his head any longer, he rested his elbow on the table and dropped his forehead into his hand. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if something happened to any of his kids, but especially his sweet little Maggie.
He ran his thumb and fingers over his eyes to wipe away the tears that accompanied the thought, then took a deep breath. “I’m getting my stuff packed up to head that way. I should be there in about four hours.” He’d probably be there sooner, but if he said three and a half and it took three hours and thirty-two minutes, his cell would start blowing up again, and none of them needed that. “Go on over to my house and make yourselves at home.”
“Okay.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Thank you, Logan. I believe everything happens for a reason, so maybe this is what needed to happen to make us see the light. To force us back together so we could work this out.”
Never gonna happen, was his immediate thought, but he kept the words locked behind closed lips. He leaned back in his chair and flipped his gaze to the closed bathroom door. Even if he hadn’t found Lizbeth again, his marriage was over, and nothing in the world would ever make him reconcile with Bobbi Jo.
The last time his life got flipped upside down, he sacrificed his relationship with Lizbeth to do the right thing. He had three beautiful children to show for it, but he’d spent fifteen years being miserable. He was finished sacrificing himself for the greater good. He still didn’t know how to go about it, but this time, he was determined to do the right thing for his kids while still holding on to Lizbeth.
Matter of Time Page 8
