Catch of a Lifetime

by Judi Fennell

  Hell, his shorts were still puddled at his feet.

  He shook his head and stepped out of them, raising one knee to the bed, cupping her shoulder and sliding his fingers to the fastening of her shirt at the back of her neck, beneath that glorious hair, trying to show her what he wanted because he seriously doubted he could speak coherently at the moment. He was amazed he was capable of even semi-coherent thought.

  The words, "Untie it," did manage to make them selves heard, and he exhaled when she let her top fall.

  She wore the red lingerie.

  Oh lord. Logan felt his blood race through his veins,

  an utter rush of sensation and feeling and gratitude and lust and pure awe at how beautiful she was.

  He fingered the delicate pattern of lace, just brush ing her skin with his fingertips, hearing her breath go shallow. Watching her pulse flutter, seeing her nipples tighten, her breasts swell the fabric against her skin. He stroked the silk cup, his thumb unerringly finding the rigid peak at the center. It hardened and Logan couldn't help himself—he leaned down to stroke her through the fabric with his tongue.

  Angel's breath caught and her head fell back, raising her breast to the perfect angle. Logan nipped at her with his lips, feeling himself grow harder, achingly so, and he nudged her backwards.

  Angel went willingly into the pillows and cradled his head when he laid half on top of her, his tongue still playing with her.

  He spread his hand wide against her stomach, enjoy ing the fluttery movements there as she tried to catch her breath, feeling the muscles move as she arched her breast into his mouth, as her legs slid apart, waiting…

  Her shirt encircled her waist, and her pants stretched between her hipbones with enough of a gap for him to slip his fingers inside. A perfect invitation he wasn't about to refuse.

  She moaned again, low and long. Beneath a small triangle of silk—red, he assumed—he stroked the curls that he knew matched her hair, wanting to feel them against his body, his face, his tongue.

  Later.

  Angel spread her legs wider, invitingly, and Logan slid his fingers lower.

  She gripped his shoulders, her breath coming even quicker. "Logan, oh, yes, oh, gods, please…"

  He nudged her bra down and circled her nipple with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth, totally unprepared for the sensation. She fit perfectly, as if she was made for him. His tongue stroked her, his fingers stroked her, and her body, well, it almost seemed to undulate like waves on the ocean beneath his touch.

  She slid one of her hands up his back to tangle in his hair. "Logan. I want…" She arched against him, higher, her heels now on the bed, opening herself as much as her clothing would allow.

  The hell with that.

  Logan undid the front clasp of her strapless bra—a man surely invented that wonder—and shoved her shirt and pants down her legs. Angel pulled one leg free, kicking everything to the floor with the other.

  Logan lifted his head. He'd been right. Her thong was red, too.

  She looked like a goddess lying there on his bed, her hair spread out around her, some drifting across her stomach and chest, a nipple peeking from beneath it, moist from where he'd tasted her. Her lips swollen, her eyes dark blue with desire…

  "Inside, Logan," she whispered. "I want you inside me."

  He did, too.

  With a jerky movement that he was too aroused to care wasn't suave, Logan braced one leg on the floor and grabbed a condom from the bedside table. Damned thing was too hard to open—

  Especially when she reached out and stroked his cock.

  His leg gave out and Logan had to brace himself so

  he wouldn't fall on her. "You better watch out, Angel. We might not need this"—he held up the condom—"if you keep doing that."

  "Oops. Sorry." She withdrew her hand. "I'll be good." Then she smiled that impish smile and shimmied out of her thong. "Or bad. Depends on what you want."

  Logan dropped the condom.

  Chapter 22

  WHAT HAD GOTTEN INTO HER? ANGEL FELT AS IF SHE WERE watching someone else make love to Logan—and that wasn't something she'd ever done.

  There was a lot going on that she'd never done. Who was this woman? She'd never been this uninhibited in her life. Never even thought to say the things she was saying to him.

  And the red lingerie?

  Ah, well, that saleswoman had known what she was talking about.

  Logan straightened again, this time with the con dom free of its packaging, ready to put it in place, and Angel was ready to let the Siren inside her free. She stroked him again, loving the sound of his breath whooshing out.

  Loving him.

  "You're killing me here, Angel."

  Oh no she wasn't. She took the condom from him and rolled it into place, taking an extra long time so her fingernails could gently scrape along his length.

  But Logan was having none of it. The minute she'd sheathed him, he knelt over her and began an assault on her breasts with his mouth, holding the rest of his body above her.

  Angel squirmed beneath his strong, muscled body. Gods, she was used to the male chest, but something about Logan's and its light dusting of hair made her, well, itch to feel him against her.

  Logan lowered himself onto her, taking his weight with his elbows as he pressed her breasts together, flick ing his tongue from one breast to the other. Angel arched against him. There. That was one way to feel him.

  He flicked his tongue again and her stomach con tracted. Another part of her swelled. Angel didn't know how much more of this she could take.

  Then he blew on her breasts and she had her answer. Not much.

  She wrapped her legs around his back, settling her heels against the top of his backside, feeling the muscles there flex.

  "Logan…"

  He raised his head, those gold flecks in his eyes glit tering. "God, you're beautiful."

  "I'm also aching." Who was this woman?

  He smiled and Angel decided she didn't mind the new her.

  "Let me see what I can do." Logan rolled to the side, one hand tangling in her hair at the base of her neck and his other hand…

  Oh, his other hand—

  One long, hard, callused finger slid down her body, lightly brushing the underside of her breast, feathering over her abdomen, and tracing around her navel until, finally, he was there. Where every nerve was already alive and waiting for him. Where she was open and ach ing and wet for him.

  "Here?" He smiled again, one eyebrow arching, and Angel couldn't find any teasing inside of her.

  "Yes" came out in one long breathy, achy, pleading moan, and she twisted the sheets in her grasp.

  Logan, gods bless him, took pity on her and stroked her, just where she needed him to. Flicked the tip of his finger just where she wanted him to. Groaned just how she liked him to.

  Then pressed and stroked and swirled and dipped inside just as she craved him to.

  The sensations were overwhelming, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Logan was unlike any one she'd ever made love with and she didn't mean the lack of a tail. He took her higher, brought her to the edge but wouldn't let her dive off again and again, until she was one mass of needing, writhing, feeling nerve end ings, panting and moaning, searching for something just beyond the next stroke of his finger, the next soft breath he blew against the sensitized skin of her breast, the next kiss he placed against her throat…

  He flicked his tongue along her jaw, then along her bottom lip, and Angel tried hard to catch her breath—the problem being, she had no breath to catch.

  His finger slid out of her body and he cupped her, his palm pressing against that most sensitive part of her, and she gasped, her eyes flying to meet his.

  "You're incredible," he whispered.

  "You are." She didn't know if she said it or simply mouthed the words, but by Logan's smile she gathered that he understood.

  At least one of them did.

  She had no idea why it
was like this between them, no clue how one man could be so much to her, why he affected her like this, why she was willing to do this when common sense and everything she'd thought she'd wanted said it wasn't a good idea…

  Because she loved him.

  Gods, yes. She did.

  The admission flowed into her, and Angel em braced it. This was what her parents, her broth ers, felt and it was so right. She hadn't planned it, wouldn't have chosen it, but as he kissed her, she didn't care.

  She loved Logan.

  Then his finger stroked her long and hard and Angel could only focus on the sensations as that rising tide welled up inside her and she struggled again to breathe, to think, to focus, to see…

  "Come for me, Angel."

  She did. Shattered, pulsing against his finger as the dam of feeling flooded her, lifting her to the tips of the wave, tossing her into the trough, swirling her onto yet another rise. Cresting and plunging, swirling again… over and over, the feeling more intense than any vortex, more wonderful than anything…

  Slowly she came back to reality and loosed the grip she had on the sheets as her breathing made it to some where in the vicinity of normal.

  Logan raised himself above her, satisfaction tilting up the curves of his mouth. "Perfect."

  Let him gloat; he was one hundred percent right. It had been.

  She nodded. "You did say you wanted our next kiss to be perfect."

  "Can't be more perfect than that."

  "Oh, I don't know." She traced his lips with her

  fingers. "Why don't you get down here and we'll see if we can make it even better."

  "I like the way you think, lady."

  She liked the way he moved, settling into the cradle of her thighs just where she'd demanded, the tip of his erection throbbing against her.

  "Logan—"

  "Angel—"

  They smiled.

  "Make love to me, Logan."

  "My pleasure."

  Maybe, but it was also hers. She tried to tell him that as he slid into her, but she was so filled with the wonder of him inside her—literally and figuratively— that she couldn't.

  It was just so… so…

  So perfect.

  ***

  She was an angel—she felt like heaven.

  Logan slid inside her heat and knew in that instant that this was right. What he'd thought he'd had with Christine at the beginning, what he'd thought this would feel like… he hadn't had a clue.

  But with Angel, well, this was how it was supposed to be.

  He slid out, then back in, smiling as she arched her neck, her eyes closing on a gasp.

  He did it again… and so did she.

  He liked watching her.

  The third time, he dipped down to kiss her throat, inhaling the musky sweet smell of her and him and what they were doing. It made him harder, something he wouldn't have thought was possible.

  Then she clenched him and he knew that it was.

  God, she was perfect.

  She swirled her hips and Logan almost came right then.

  He captured her lips with his, not wanting to lose control. He slipped his tongue inside, stroking hers, tasting her.

  She returned the stroking and Logan sucked on her tongue to match the rhythm of his cock inside her.

  This time she moaned.

  Logan threaded his fingers through her hair and knew he had to have it falling over him. There was just something so earthy and sensual about her hair, how it swayed when she moved, a curtain shielding her from him, giving him glimpses of what was behind it, tantalizing him.

  Logan wrapped his arms around her and rolled over.

  Those beautiful eyes of hers shot open. "What—"

  "I need you on top, Angel. I want to watch you. I want to feel you move against me."

  Her hair fell around them, brushing his groin, his thighs, his abdomen, and Logan groaned. It felt so good. She felt so good.

  He fanned a hand on her stomach, his thumb stroking the curls between her legs, his little finger just below the underside of her breast. If she leaned forward, he'd be able to touch her there—

  He wrapped a handful of her gorgeous hair around his other hand and tugged.

  Bingo. She leaned forward.

  But then he got another idea.

  He filled both of his hands with her hair and tugged again.

  She fell forward, her hair falling around them, her breasts right where he wanted them.

  She smiled when he took one in his mouth.

  And then she moved.

  Good God! Logan almost shot off the bed. Her ass slid against his sac, her soaked, swollen flesh rubbing against him, and she arched her breast into his mouth on another long moan. Her hair swept his sides, fell across his lips, and desire shot straight from his balls to every part of his body. It was a wonder he didn't explode.

  Actually…

  Feeling his cock jerk inside her, knowing the end was near, Logan rocked into her.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, matching his movement with her hips in perfect harmony.

  He released her breast and shoved a hand to the back of her head, dragging that sweet mouth to his, kissing her lips, parting them with his tongue, his other hand tangling in the golden hair that sensitized every part of his body it touched. Logan gripped her hip and surged upward.

  Angel swirled her hips again. Just a little, but it was enough.

  "Logan," she breathed against his lips and that was it.

  Gripping both her hips now, Logan pounded into her until an orgasm more powerful, more profound, than any he'd ever had, rushed through him and he poured himself into her. As unbelievable as it sounded, as incredible as this entire situation was, something had changed inside him. Altered him. Realigned… everything.

  He was in love with Angel.

  ***

  Moonlight from the far side of the room stretched along the wall and across the bottom corner of the bed with just enough light for Angel to see the shadowy outline of Logan's backside where he lay on his stomach next to her.

  She wanted to run her palm over one muscled cheek but she was too tired to make the effort. Plus, he had his face buried in the hollow of her neck, and, frankly, she didn't want to move him.

  She didn't want to move anything.

  If she did, real life would come flooding back and she'd have to deal with it.

  Right now she just wanted to be…

  "Stay with me, Angel." Logan whispered.

  Angel tensed. Stay with him? In what sense? What did he mean? Stay awake? Stay the night? Stay until Michael started school? Forever? What?

  He rolled onto his side. "Angel?"

  She looked at him. "What do you mean, Logan?" He had no idea what he was asking. None. And she wasn't sure she did either. Stay with him? That couldn't be an option.

  Right?

  The thud in her stomach said her heart didn't agree with her—the heart that had lived under the sea for the last twenty-nine selinos—and wouldn't he just love finding that out?

  And then he smiled. That warm, feel-good, wrap itself-around-you smile. He picked up a few strands of her hair, brushing the ends across his lips, then over her collarbone ever so softly, fluttering her already flutter ing heart even more, sending shivers over her skin as he feathered her hair over her breasts, a soft stroke across her nipples, sliding down over her ribs, tickling her navel… and she sucked in a breath because somehow she'd forgotten to breathe.

  Logan relinquished her hair and curved his hand over her hip, then up to her waist, gently over her ribs, sliding his hand beneath her, turning her so their gazes met. He looked at her as if he could see into her soul.

  "I want you to stay, Angel. With us. I've never felt like this before. I don't really know you, yet… I do. It's al most… and I hate to say this because it's so cliché, but it's magical." His eyes traced her face, and his voice lowered. "You feel it, too, don't you? I know how crazy this sounds. I'm not impulsive, and
I've never done anything like this before in my life, yet I know if I don't tell you this, if I don't ask you, it'll be the biggest regret of my life."

  The biggest regret of hers would be if she said no.

  Who was this new person inside her? This new her? Vamping it up with Logan was one thing, but this? Staying with him? Could she pull it off without him finding out?