ALLOut of Control

by Author TR

  Logan’s eyes moved over Libby one last time, as though to judge for himself that she was okay. Satisfied, he gave a slight nod and turned away. Libby released a sigh of relief, still thinking about what Vincent had said about mouth to mouth. Just the thought of Logan’s sensual mouth on hers sent a sharp rush of intense heat throughout her body.

  Goodness, she was already experiencing hot flashes!

  * * * *

  “Wasn’t that interesting? Logan sure is a handsome devil and he knows what he’s talking about too. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be here today.”

  Libby grinned, deciding not to remind her grandmother that the little grease fire she’d caused had hardly been life threatening since it had happened out of doors during a cookout at the pool.

  “Maybe next time you’ll make sure whatever you toss into a cardboard box isn’t still on fire,” Libby quipped, noticing how slowly her grandmother walked when there wasn’t the promise of free coffee and doughnuts at the end of her trek.

  She couldn’t argue with her comments concerning Logan. He was more handsome than any man had a right to be. And just thinking about him stirred Libby’s blood surprisingly fast. She reached up and wiped the sweat off her upper lip. If she didn’t get out of these clothes soon and cool down she was going to suffer heatstroke.

  Her grandmother decided to ignore her comment about the fire. “Did you happen to notice how gray Logan’s eyes were?”

  As gray as silver lightning and just as exciting. “Yes,” Libby responded.

  “Did you notice how tall he is?”

  At least six foot four. “Yes.”

  “And those manly muscles! Did you notice how well built he is?”

  Like the Viking warrior on the cover of the romance novel she was reading. “Yes.”

  “And that face. Have you ever seen such a strong, handsome face? You should see him when he’s all dressed up in his fireman garb. Vincent has pictures.”

  Finally her grandmother’s words got through to her.

  “Gram, if I didn’t know better I’d swear you have a crush on the man, when you should be interested in Vincent. He told me he’s been a widower for three years. I think he’s lonely.”

  Margaret snorted. “He’s a tomcat on the prowl, chases anything in skirts.”

  Libby’s brows arched high on her forehead. She’d been living with her grandmother for a week now and hadn’t seen anyone in a skirt. She started to pluck at her loose blouse. The heat was getting to her and it was only ten in the morning. She’d love to be able to throw on a tank top and pair of shorts.

  Wouldn’t that cause a stir!

  “Oh dear!” Libby followed her grandmother’s gaze, glancing up the huge oak tree until her eyes fell on the object of her interest, calmly sitting on a branch as though it was a throne.

  “So, that’s where Rufus has been. Poor dear is probably stuck up there and can’t get down.”

  “I’m sure he’ll come down when he gets hungry enough,” Libby pointed out, shooting the old tomcat a scowl. She and Rufus didn’t get along. And on top of that, she was tired of having to rescue him from the same predicament. Her grandmother seemed to have a selective memory when it came to remembering that Rufus had managed to come down the tree all by himself until she moved in.

  “But what if he doesn’t? I can’t bear the thought of him being hungry. He’s been up there for at least two days already.”

  “He’s probably made a meal of some poor old bird,” Libby said, continuing toward the house. “There’s probably a nest full of helpless babies he’s tormenting.”

  “Come on, Rufus, come on down, baby. Come to Mama.”

  Releasing a long breath, Libby halted when she heard her grandmother gently calling to her old cat. Guilt consumed her when she thought of how much her grandmother loved that beast. Libby couldn’t just go inside and not do something.

  “Here, kitty, kitty.”

  Libby frowned; Rufus hadn’t been a kitty for a long time. “Gram…” She quickly looked around when she realized her mistake. “Margaret, he’ll come down when he’s ready.”

  “No, he won’t. He’ll go hungry. Or maybe he’ll fall because he’s so weak from hunger.”

  “I can’t go up there after him, Gram,” Libby said beneath her breath. “I’m supposed to be an old woman, remember?”

  The sudden gleam in her grandmother’s eyes should have warned Libby. “No, but you can go up there as my visiting granddaughter,” she pointed out without hesitation. “You have before.”

  Libby glanced up at Rufus, then back at her worried grandmother. She couldn’t argue with that, and besides, she was hotter than heck. The thought of slipping into something cooler, if just for a few moments, decided it for her. “Just give me a few minutes while I run inside and change.” Maybe if she were lucky Rufus would come down while she was changing.

  It didn’t take her long to strip out of her clothes and peel the cumbersome body suit down. She groaned when the cool air hit her warm body, and then wiggled into a pair of cutoff jeans and a tank top. Snatching off the wig, she shook her hair free then quickly removed her makeup and washed her face before heading outside.

  “I haven’t climbed that tree in at least five days, Gram, so you might end up with both of us stuck up there,” Libby said sarcastically, grasping the first limb and hoisting her up.

  “I’ll call the fire department if that happens, dear.” Margaret laughed softly.

  Libby released a grunt when she slipped, just managing to grab a branch in time. It didn’t take her long to reach the limb Rufus was perched on. For a moment they eyed each other with disdain. “Come on, Rufus.” Libby reached for the overweight orange feline. But as soon as she held her arms out, he released a hiss and scampered further up the tree. “Rufus! You…” She bit down on her lip to keep from swearing. He was higher than he’d ever gone.

  “Careful, dear, don’t fall,” Margaret cautioned from below.

  “I’m okay,” Libby grumbled, glaring at Rufus, who remained just out of reach as if he knew the trouble he was causing and enjoying every second of it. “But I’m not making any promises about Rufus,” she finished in a low tone so her grandmother wouldn’t hear. “Come on, Rufus, give me a break. I just want to get you down so Gram will stop worrying about you. Aren’t you hungry?” He didn’t look hungry; he looked like he could miss a week of meals and be okay. Libby continued to climb. “If I didn’t love Gram, you’d stay up in this tree until Christmas.”

  “Not too high, dear!” Margaret warned loudly.

  Libby could hear muffled voices beneath her, aware someone had joined her grandmother. Probably one of her neighbors. She didn’t glance down, keeping Rufus in eyesight as she continued to climb the giant oak. Once again she was within grabbing distance, only this time she didn’t lunge. If he climbed much higher she wouldn’t be able to follow him.

  She offered the grinning cat a smile. “Hello, Rufus, you mean, ugly, smelly old cat,” Libby said in the sweetest voice she could muster. “You see that sweet little old lady down there? She loves you, so be a nice kitty and come here so we can both get out of this tree.”

  All of a sudden Rufus’s eyes got big, his back arched like a tightly strung bow, and he hissed like Libby had never heard him hiss. For a moment she reared back, afraid he was going to lunge at her with his exposed claws. She forgot where she was, losing her balance. As she fell back, she let out a scream of pure fright.

  Chapter 2

  “Is anything wrong, Margaret?”

  Logan Knight had stepped onto his grandfather’s porch to see the older woman standing at the base of the tree dividing their property, staring up toward the sky as though looking for a sign from God. He was going to leave her alone until he heard her talking. Then curiosity got the better of him.

  “Oh, thank goodness you came along when you did, dear,” she began in a tone that told Logan she was worried sick about something. “My granddaughter climbed up the tree to rescue m
y cat and now it appears she’s stuck up there too.”

  Logan glanced up and nearly had heart failure. Never mind that the kid had climbed high enough to break her neck if she should fall, but he was gazing at a pair of the best looking legs he’d seen in a long while. Long, shapely and tanned all over, disappearing beneath a pair of shorts that from his viewpoint didn’t do much to hide the shapely swell of her… He quickly slammed the brakes on where his thoughts were heading and averted his eyes. Damn, how old is Margaret’s granddaughter?

  “I’m so worried my little Libby is going to fall,” Margaret said next to Logan, drawing his attention back to her. It was about that time he noticed several nearby neighbors, including his own grandfather, heading in their direction.

  His glance returned to the girl in the tree, most of her body blanketed by a thick fall of red gold hair. She’d climbed higher, and higher still was the cat she was trying to rescue. He thought about his healing injuries and hesitated for only a second, and then began to climb. Saving cats wasn’t all that exciting, he’d had to do it once or twice. Experience reminded Logan that most felines came down when they were good and ready. But he couldn’t just stand by and not do anything when it involved a kid, no matter what his doctor told him. He didn’t call out to Libby as he moved closer to her, knowing that if he did he could scare her into falling. But he no sooner stopped directly beneath her when the cat spotted him and then all hell broke loose.

  The cat went ballistic. Logan heard the kid scream. His heart stopped when he saw her lose her balance and begin to fall backwards. He didn’t have time to waste. In a lightning fast move he shoved himself up and over her body, catching her with his own and pinning her against the tree. “I’ve got you, honey!” he rasped, grabbing the limb over their heads and bracing himself for her full weight. The impact of her slight body sent a rivet of sharp pain through him, but Logan ignored it and held fast.

  “Please don’t move.” He grated low in his throat and closed his eyes, fighting a wave of unexpected dizziness. He needed a moment for the pain to subside.

  “What? Who…” She ignored his plea, wiggling around until she was facing him. His arms effectively held her trapped against the trunk of the tree, and at that moment Logan didn’t know what was worse, having her backside against him, or her breasts.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked breathlessly in a surprisingly adult tone that immediately sharpened Logan’s instincts.

  In the blink of an eye he came to the realization that Margaret’s granddaughter was anything but a kid. The womanly curves pressed against him were a testament to that and instantly wiped away the guilt of his earlier thoughts. He tried to chuckle but it came out like a groan. “I don’t think now is the time to discuss the birds and the bees.” His eyes captured hers, and Logan was reminded of someone, though he couldn’t think who.

  “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did. I was about to fall.”

  Logan’s gaze roamed over Libby’s pretty peaches and cream complexion, sliding down her slender throat and exposed collarbone before smoothing over her nearly naked shoulders. He tried not to look but failed miserably, lowering his eyes to take in the swell of her breasts above the tank top.

  “Your grandmother said you were stuck up here.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Her breasts, outlined so enticingly against the tee-shirt style top, were perfectly round. Her nipples were hard little crowns, pointing at him as if accusing him for being in that state. Damn! Logan felt something hot uncoil in his gut and realized it was arousal. The feeling moved to his cock. He inhaled deeply to try and calm down but all that did was fill his lungs with her warm, subtle fragrance.

  “Well, I was doing just fine until you showed up and scared Rufus,” Libby pointed out, glaring up at the contented feline above them. “Thank you for saving my butt.”

  As if knowing the two humans were displeased with him, Rufus suddenly went into action, hissing and crying threateningly like any cornered cat. Sensing what he was about to do, Logan leaned further into Libby. Shielding her with his body and taking the brunt of the angry cat as he scampered over them, continuing down the tree. Grunting in pain, Logan closed his eyes and sucked in his breath.

  “Are you okay, Logan?”

  No, he wasn’t okay. Besides Rufus using his shoulders and back for a ladder with those sharp claws, a pain of another nature shot through his body when his chest came in direct contact with Libby’s soft breasts and those pointed little nipples. It had nothing to do with the healing scars from the serious burn he’d received several months ago and everything to do with lust. He hadn’t been with a woman in months. He clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the full-blown arousal throbbing between his thighs.

  “Logan?” A soft voice persisted, more concern in it than desire, which only showed that Libby was nowhere near the same state as he was at the moment.

  He clenched his teeth and tried to think about anything that would kill the burning rush heating his blood. Being flush against Margaret’s shapely granddaughter reminded him of that fact. It also reminded Logan why he was living there. It wasn’t just his body that needed healing. Not once in the three months he’d been at Cypress Glen had he felt the urge to have sex. But then, until now he hadn’t come across anyone under the age of sixty.

  “You’re beginning to scare me, Logan. I thought you were rescuing me,” Libby remarked with humor in her voice.

  Logan’s eyes flew open. Not because he wanted to reassure Libby, but because it suddenly dawned on him that she’d called him by name. And not for the first time. “How did you know my name?” He didn’t recall any introductions between them. Something flickered in her lovely moss green eyes. The longest, thickest lashes he’d ever seen on a woman effectively shut him out, falling against flawless skin that made him want to reach up and see if it was as smooth as it looked.

  “Ah, didn’t you tell me?” She didn’t sound so sure, and she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “No.” Logan leaned away from Libby as much as he could without falling out of the tree before she became aware that he was aroused. Two nights ago at the bar down the street he’d had a woman plastered against him during a dance, and it hadn’t affected him in any way. Why now, and with her?

  “Well, I, ah, must have heard Gram mention you. That’s right; you’re Mr. Knight’s grandson, the fireman.” She smiled, finally raising her catlike eyes.

  Yeah, Logan supposed that made sense. He swallowed hard, falling headfirst into those innocent orbs before lowering his gaze to take in Libby’s full bottom lip. As though knowing how he was responding to her, she proceeded to dampen it with the tip of her small, pink tongue. Damn, this isn’t good. The urge to press his mouth to hers to see if her lips tasted as sweet as they appeared took him by surprise. With his luck she’d probably give him a shove that would send him tumbling to the ground, undoing months of rehabilitation and therapy.

  “Are you two going to spend the day up there? Rufus came down half an hour ago!” Margaret’s voice cut through Logan’s thoughts, effectively dousing his hard-on and any notions he had about kissing Libby. For a moment he’d actually forgotten where they were.

  “Maybe they’re both stuck up there now!” someone chimed in, getting a good laugh from the gathered crowd. “Need help getting down, Logan?”

  Logan glanced down to see about twenty neighbors standing around the base of the tree, all staring up at them with huge grins on their wrinkled faces. It didn’t take much to amuse the elderly and his grandfather was no different.

  “Do you think it’s safe to go down?” Libby questioned, her eyes dancing with amusement. “They look pretty hungry.”

  They looked like sharks circling a dying whale. His gaze returned to hers, his mouth twitching. “Don’t you trust me to protect you?”

  Libby’s smile grew wider. “You are a big, strapping fireman,” she said as though reminding herself. “I
guess it will be okay, as long as you don’t toss me over your shoulder or anything.”

  “Come on then. I’ll keep you between my body and the tree and we’ll take it one step at a time.” She didn’t as much as blink. “I promise not to let you fall. Just do me one favor.”

  “And that is?”

  “Let me control our movements.” Logan was thinking about the tender scars lining his chest. If she jabbed him in the wrong place the pain could very well send them both crashing to the ground. He waited for her nod. “Good, now turn back around so you’re facing the tree again.”

  As Libby did as he asked Logan arched his back to give her room. He was still holding onto the thick branch over their heads and when she was finally facing the trunk again he relaxed against her slowly. He realized as soon as Libby’s bottom brushed against his fly that he should have thought it through. Now it was too late. All he could do was clenching his teeth and close his eyes as a moment of heightened pleasure spiraled through him.

  “Frightened?” he asked when Libby caught her breath and stiffened. Had she felt something too? A breeze came from nowhere, sending the long silky strands of her hair whirling around them and binding them together.

  Libby shook her head and Logan released a sigh of relief.

  “Good. Now, just follow my lead.”

  Climbing down turned out to be the longest journey of Logan’s life. Every step of the way, every movement, made him sharply aware of Libby’s lithe body brushing against his front, keeping him aroused to the point of pain. The light fragrance of her hair as it whipped about his face continuously teased his senses with something clean and mildly sweet. Innocence that screamed of wildness, and heaven.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her concern produced a chuckle from Logan that had little to do with humor. She wasn’t a kid; she had to know the state he was in. And her soft, barely audible gasps didn’t go unnoticed either. They told him she wasn’t unaffected by their close proximity. He resisted the urge to rub his hungry flesh against her, just to see what her response would be. Then squashed the idea by remembering they were little more than strangers.