Cricket Cove

by Haddix, T. L.

Chapter Forty-One

  Going to sleep in Logan’s arms after an evening spent watching movies and talking quietly was close to Amelia’s idea of a perfect evening.

  Waking up with him on top of her, sweating and breathing as though he’d run a marathon, was not.

  “Logan, what—?”

  He clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shhh. They’ll hear.”

  Her first thoughts were of Roger. Going still, she listened carefully but didn’t hear anything. Logan, however, reacted as though he heard several things. After long, tense seconds, she realized what was going on. He was having a nightmare. Moving very carefully, she reached up and touched him.

  “Logan, it’s okay,” she told him in a low, soothing voice. “You need to wake up.”

  “I am awake. We’ll have to make a run for it.”

  Her heart broke as she heard the anguish in his voice. Who knew what kind of horrible event he was reliving in his mind? She tried again. This time, she touched his ribs, running her fingers lightly down his sides.

  “You’re asleep, Logan. We’re in Hazard, in your apartment. You’re having a nightmare.” She started massaging his back right above his hips.

  “We’re—I’m asleep?”

  She felt the tension in his muscles change, and he let out a long, ragged breath.

  “Amelia?”

  “I’m right here.”

  He reached over and turned the lamp on. Amelia squinted against the brightness, anxious to see his face and make sure he was okay.

  Logan was staring down at her in dismay. “Did I hurt you?” he rasped.

  “No. Not even close.” She continued rubbing his back. “Are you okay?”

  He pushed off of her, getting out of bed to stand at the foot. “No.” He stripped off his sweat-soaked T-shirt, then let his pajama bottoms drop, kicking them into the corner. His hair was slick with sweat, and he pushed it back. With a muttered curse, he started pacing.

  Amelia had been a bit surprised that he didn’t sleep nude. When she’d asked him about it, he had replied that he’d gotten used to being dressed in the Army, and he was more comfortable with that.

  As she watched him move back and forth at the foot of the bed, she was surprised to see him becoming aroused. Before she could ask, he shot her a look that was filled with concern. “This isn’t good. Amelia, you aren’t… I shouldn’t be around you when I’m like this. I need some air.”

  He hit the bedroom door at almost a sprint. Amelia scrambled to follow, pulling her robe on as she heard him go out the back door. She just hoped he didn’t do something ridiculous, like make a leap off the balcony, out of his anxiety. Her heart was pounding so hard it was making her sick as she hurried through the dark apartment. She made a quick stop in the kitchen to turn on the lamp on the island.

  She’d done some reading about PTSD after Logan had first come to Hazard, partly because she was curious about what might make Logan tick, and partly because she was just naturally curious. Several of the things she’d read had warned that some sufferers could exhibit strong sexual urges that were almost compulsive, particularly in times of stress. Given the state of his arousal when he’d fled the room, she wondered if that was what was going on.

  When she stepped out onto the porch, the cold wind drifted around her legs, and she pulled her robe tighter. Logan seemed oblivious to the frigid temperatures as he sat on a chair, head in his hands. He glanced at her as she drew closer to him.

  “Stop. You should go back in.”

  “Why?” She held her position.

  “Because when I get like this after a nightmare,” he said, sitting back and gesturing down to his erection, “I can’t get… I have a hard time bringing it back down.”

  “Okay,” Amelia said slowly. “I’m familiar with the phenomenon.” When he quirked a questioning eyebrow in her direction, she spread her hands. “I research things.”

  He snorted out a bark of laughter. “Fine. Why are you still here?” The worry on his face increased as she stepped closer. “Amelia…,” he warned.

  “Logan… I’m not afraid of you. Or of this,” she said, closing the distance. She reached down and trailed her fingers up his erection. His hand covered hers in a flash, tightening until they both covered him.

  A look that she hadn’t seen before crossed his face. The look told her that he could be very, very dangerous if she continued to provoke him, but not in a way that would put her in any threat of physical harm. More likely, he would throw her down and seduce her so effectively she wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

  The idea was electrifying. Rather than trying to talk him down and take the edge off his arousal, his need communicated itself to her and ignited her own.

  Amelia pulled her hand away and took a step back. Relief warred with disappointment on his face, but when she dropped her robe to the floor of the porch, he sucked in a breath. She pulled her sleep shirt over her head, and his mouth tightened. When she eased to her knees in front of him, his eyes widened. And when she took him into her mouth, his breath escaped in a harsh exhalation.

  “Amelia, you don’t have to do that,” he ground out as his hands came to her head to stop her.

  She traced his thighs with her fingertips, scratching lightly. “I want to.” Her hands flew up to break the hold he had on her head, and she kept her eyes on his as she lowered her mouth back down. She wasn’t going to let the man deny either of them.

  Logan was simultaneously in heaven and in hell. When he’d come out of the nightmare to realize what he’d done, he’d hated himself. That she hadn’t looked at him with disgust amazed him. He certainly hadn’t expected her to follow him out on to the porch. And this?

  When her hot, warm mouth enveloped him, he’d almost shattered. It was too much, and at the same time, not enough.

  Amelia’s movements weren’t practiced, but she was making up for her lack of knowledge with enthusiasm. Logan guided her, speaking intermittently to let her know what was working and what wasn’t. To his surprise, within a couple of minutes she had him nearing the edge of no return. Just as he felt himself tightening, she lifted her mouth from him and got to her feet.

  Logan stared at her, dazed, as she scooped her robe off the floor. “What…?”

  “I think we should take this inside. Here, kitty, kitty,” she teased, crooking her finger.

  Logan slowly rose from the seat, amusement warring with the lust that was raging through him. “Does that mean I should whistle when I want you?”

  Affronted by the comparison, her mouth dropped open even as she backed into the apartment. “I’m not a dog!”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not a kitty kind of cat, so I guess we’re even.”

  She snickered with laughter as he backed her into the kitchen, stalking her slowly toward the table with measured steps. “You came when I called, didn’t you?”

  Logan backed her into the table, caging her in with his arms. “I was getting ready to come when you stood up. That was very mean of you.”

  “Was it, now?” Her eyes were light with her arousal, and Logan ran his hands down her body. He slid two fingers between her thighs, easily penetrating her through her wetness.

  “Oh, my God, Logan.”

  He whipped her around to face away from him, his arm sliding around her hips as he pressed himself against her. “Hands on the table.”

  “What?”

  “Bend over,” he growled in her ear, nipping along her shoulder. “I’m going to take you like this.”

  She gasped but did as he’d instructed. Logan reached down and used his hand to guide his erection to her opening, and once there, he slid inside her in a slow, steady glide. Her low moan, as well as the way she clenched around him, told him she was on board.

  He moved slowly, drawing out his thrusts until she
was whimpering and crying his name. Logan could feel her orgasm approaching, and he waited until the very last minute before he pulled out.

  The sound that was wrenched from her throat was almost a sob. “No, please. Don’t stop.”

  He let the tip of his erection brush against her wetness, tantalizingly close to where she wanted him. With light fingers, he traced her hips, her back, her buttocks.

  “Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

  She pushed herself off the table and turned to face him, her chest heaving. “No.”

  Logan traced her lips, then let his finger mark a path straight down between her breasts, across her belly, and into her damp curls. “But you teased me out on the porch.”

  Her eyes widened as his hands fell to his sides, and her mouth dropped open with shock. “Are you calling me a cock tease?” she asked in a low voice.

  His own mouth moved into a wicked smile. “Yes, I am. And don’t think that’s a complaint. It isn’t. You feel free to tease me at any time. But you should be aware that there will be consequences. I will exact payback, with interest.” With that, he lifted her onto the table, hooked his leg around a nearby chair, and pulled it close.

  When he sat down, placing her legs across his shoulders, Amelia shook her head. “You can’t. We just… You can’t.”

  “We did just… But I didn’t you know,” he teased, winking up at her outrage. And with that, he lowered his head.

  When he had her on the brink of another orgasm, he stood. Wrapping her legs around his hips, he stretched out on top of her and plunged inside. This time, he didn’t stop until she was convulsing around him, and then he only slowed down.

  Once she came down from the climax, Logan framed her face and whispered her name. “Look at me.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open.

  “I want you to watch me come apart inside you.” With her eyes locked onto his, he started moving. He laced their fingers together and stretched her arms over her head, thrusting home. She tightened around him, holding him so that he felt surrounded, and Logan let go.

  Several minutes later, he lifted his head from where he’d rested it in the crease of her neck. Amelia threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him down to her kiss.

  “Better?” she asked.

  He nodded, feeling completely drained. “You?”

  Her smile was pleased, contented. “Oh, yes.”

  “I was so afraid I had hurt you earlier,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “I’m stronger than you think. And I know you would never hurt me. Not intentionally.”

  “It’s the unintentional that concerns me. I didn’t know I had you under me, or that I was dreaming, until you started rubbing my back.” He grabbed her sleep shirt and put it beneath her hips, then pulled out. With that in place, he helped her sit up. “I’d cut my arm off before I’d hurt you.”

  “I figured touching you like that might bring you around. And since it did, we can use that in the future if this happens again.” She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest as she sighed. “And not that I want you to have any more nightmares, but I certainly wouldn’t object to the aftermath.”

  Logan enveloped her in his embrace. “What did I do to deserve you like this?”

  She smiled up at him. “I guess you just got lucky, soldier boy.”

  “I guess I did.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Amelia woke up the next morning to the sound of running water. She stretched, feeling her muscles pull with a slight twinge here and there, funny little reminders of the previous night.

  A glance at the clock told her it was just past six. She reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on, looking down at herself out of habit. Her eyes widened when she saw the faint bruises on her shoulder, her breasts, her thighs. They were obviously fingerprints, and she traced them lightly as she remembered how intense her lovemaking with Logan had gotten. He’d still been aroused when they’d gone back to bed, and they’d made love twice more before he finally was relaxed enough to go back to sleep.

  Watching him come apart, gazing deep into his eyes as he climaxed inside her, had been so intimate that she’d felt connected to him in a way she never had before. It had been like gazing into his soul, and in that moment, they’d touched on more than just a physical level. It had been like watching a spark flare and had been so intense it had almost been too much.

  Her robe was nowhere to be seen, so she grabbed the discarded T-shirt at the bottom of the bed and pulled it on. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was wafting through the apartment, and she padded into the kitchen to pour a mug before heading back to the bathroom. She tapped gently on the door.

  “Come in.”

  She opened the door and went in. “Hi.”

  Logan smiled at her from where he was stretched out in the tub. “Hi. How’d you sleep?”

  She handed him the coffee. “Like a log. You? I, um, can we pull this around for a second?” she asked, touching the shower curtain.

  “Sure.”

  Privacy assured, or as close as she was going to get, she sat on the toilet and peed. “Sorry about this. I had to go.”

  He chuckled. “Not a problem.”

  Once she’d flushed the toilet and washed her hands, she pulled the curtain back. She sat on the edge of the tub, her shirt riding up, and reached out to touch his chest.

  Logan looked up at her, a relaxed expression on his face. That relaxation faded, though, as he stared at her leg. “Amelia… What is that?”

  She looked down to where he pointed, to the bruises. “Um, fingerprints?” When she raised her eyes back to him, his face was stony. “Logan?”

  One by one, he placed his fingers over the bruises. They were a perfect match. “I put bruises on you.”

  “Yes, you did.” She touched his face, but he jerked back. “Logan, it’s okay. I bruise easily, that’s all.”

  “It is not okay,” he growled. “I hurt you.”

  And now he was the one who was hurting. Amelia racked her brain for an idea of how to calm him down. “You’re acting like you’re as bad as someone like Roger,” she chided softly. “How is it that you can’t see the difference in what you did and what he does to Lori?”

  “Because there isn’t a difference.”

  Amelia took the coffee and set it on the back of the toilet. “You’re being ridiculous. I don’t suppose you happened to get a look at your back this morning, did you? Because I’d be surprised if you don’t at least have some welts from where I dug in my nails.” She kept her tone level and matter-of-fact.

  He leaned forward and reached around. Amelia looked, and sure enough, there were red streaks on his back. “Yep. Just like I thought. I marked you.”

  His scowl was impressive. “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “It just is.”

  Rolling her eyes, she stood and went to brush her teeth. “God save me from male logic.”

  “Are there more?”

  She nodded and pulled the shirt up so he could see. “And I earned them all, Sarge. Get off your high horse.” He settled back in the tub, and she realized he wasn’t just getting clean, he was soaking. “Muscles upset this morning?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She spit the toothpaste foam out, then rinsed her mouth. “Would it make you feel better if I put some bruises on you?”

  “Amelia…”

  “I know, I know. I’m being ridiculous.” She went back to the tub and leaned over, brushing her mouth across his in a teasing kiss. “Pot, kettle.”

  To her relief, Logan kissed her back. “Why aren’t you upset?” he asked quietly.

  She smiled. “You do remember what we did last night, don’t you?”

&nbs
p; He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Of course I remember last night. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “How to explain?” she wondered aloud. “I love the way we’re intimate together. Please don’t think I’m saying otherwise. I never expected intimacy would be as fulfilling as it is, or as addictive, or just plain as much fun. But last night… You know that rush you get when you do something slightly naughty, slightly dangerous, and it goes so far beyond your expectations that you can’t stand it?”

  He frowned. “I suppose.”

  “That’s kind of how last night was for me, except to a degree I never could have imagined. I wouldn’t want every time we’re together to be that intense. I don’t think I could handle it. But Logan, my God, I don’t think I would have cared if people had been standing outside with shotguns. I didn’t care that we were on the porch when I took you in my mouth. And what happened in the kitchen? We could have been on the hood of my car in the driveway for all I cared. So, as odd as it sounds, I’m a little bit proud of these bruises and those marks on your back. I never thought I’d inspire that kind of lust in someone or be capable of it myself.”

  He breathed out a sigh. “It wasn’t just lust.”

  Amelia took his hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing his palm before resting her cheek against it. “I know. And that makes what we did that much more special. Do you understand?”

  “You swear to me that you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “I swear. I’m a little sore in certain spots, but every time I move, it reminds me of what we did. So I’m a little aroused by it, too, if you want the truth.” This time, she hid her face in his hand as heat curled up her cheeks.

  “Come here.” Logan tugged, and she bent down to accept his kiss. It was soft, intimate, and full of promise.

  By the time he let her up, Amelia was breathing a little raggedly. Logan’s eyes had darkened, and he dropped his hand to cup one of her breasts through the cotton of the shirt.