by Liliana Hart
He meant the FBI. “Why did you quit?”
The question had been teasing at her since Meechum had explained why Logan had gone into Law Enforcement. A long silence fell, so long Kaylea didn’t think he was going to answer.
“I joined the Bureau because I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to help other families like the agents who found Josie had helped us.”
She nodded to show her understanding, but remained silent.
A sigh shook him. His arms slid around her waist and tightened. “What I didn’t realize was that we were an anomaly. When it comes to abductions by strangers, very few cases end in recovery. It’s rare to find the missing child, even rarer to find them alive. And if the abduction is by a family member or friend...” He swore softly. “The child’s dead before we even arrive on scene.”
Her heart tightened and ached at the hollowness in his voice.
“I guess I got tired of never making a difference.” There was no self-pity in his voice. It was just matter of fact.
“But you did make a difference,” Kaylea protested. “By tracking down the abductors, you saved future victims.”
He shrugged again. “For every unsub we caught, a dozen more cropped up to take his place. It’s a never ending, escalating cycle. I wasn’t making one iota of difference to the families of the abducted children, or to the children themselves. So I decided to focus on what I could do, not what I couldn’t. What I could do was put the focus back on my own family. I’d missed all but a handful of Josie and Sarah’s birthdays. I never made it home for holidays. I was living out of a suitcase and off fast food. When I realized I had abandoned the people who meant the most to me, for a job where I had absolutely no impact, I resigned and looked for a position in law enforcement closer to home.” He paused, and she could hear the hesitation in his voice. “When I saw the listing for Jamesville, I thought of you. I even googled to see if you were in town before I applied for the position.”
Her jaw dropped at that revelation and she lifted her head.
“Seriously?” She scanned his face. He looked pretty serious. “Why? I was horrible to you.”
He released his grip around her waist and lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. “I don’t know. I guess you kind of stuck with me. I didn’t admit it until recently, but I wanted to see you again. I wanted to see if there was anything beneath the animosity. Max gave me the perfect opportunity to test the waters again.”
Kaylea’s lips twisted in self-derision. “Well, I sure failed that test, didn’t I?”
He half smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I don’t know about that,” he whispered against her skin. “I think we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be”
Kaylea’s chest loosened and warmed. Since words failed her, she scooted up his chest until she could reach his mouth. Tilting her head, she pressed her mouth against his.
The kiss started off sweet, gentle. A promise and an affirmation. With the barest brush of lips and the slightest pressure, they sipped from each other..
That sweetness lasted all of ten seconds, maybe twelve.
And then lips hardened, mouths opened, arms clung. Against her chest, Kaylea felt his heart pound, slamming against hers. She opened her mouth to accept the thrust of his tongue, her belly quivering as he probed her mouth and stroked the inside of her cheek.
Oh God, he felt so good pressed against her: hot, hard, and strong. He tasted good, too, delicious, like the chocolate bar they’d shared while watching the movie.
She immersed herself in the damp heat of his mouth, the heady stroke of his tongue, chills raging up and down her spine and fire ballooning in her belly. She’d forgotten how intoxicating his taste was, how the hot, earthy sent of his skin paralyzed her lungs, and spun her head. She’d forgotten how perfectly they fit together, like pieces of a puzzle rejoined after too long apart.
A pair of warm, calloused hands skimmed up her spine beneath her shirt, the scratchy caress against her bare back sparking a flurry of chills and quivers. Instinctively, Kaylea arched her back, rubbing her pelvis against his abdomen.
With a muffled groan, Logan’s hands froze. His mouth froze too and then he wrenched his lips from hers. Breathing hard, he pulled back. Kaylea lifted her gaze, uncertainty touching her—isn’t he as turned on as I am?—only to find the masculine face staring back at her was anything but indifferent. His face was tense, eyes heavy lidded and gleaming with hunger. A deep flush darkened his cheeks and reddened his swollen lips. He looked like a man on the edge of an orgasm—brought on by a kiss and some light petting.
A surge of smugness hit and a wicked smile curved her lips. She’d done this to him, got him all hot and bothered and ready—which was only fair, considering he’d done the same to her. Deliberately she did another little shimmy, rubbing her pelvis against his belly. You’d think she’d relieved him of a layer of skin the way he quaked and groaned.
For a second his hands clenched, and he thrust her a good foot away. Brown eyes, at least two shades darker than normal, locked onto her gaze. The raw hunger carving his face did more to reassure her than the hands that remained locked around her shoulders.
He let go of her right shoulder to cup her cheek, his fingers trembling slightly against her skin. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Absolutely.” Smirking, she scooted down and rubbed herself against his crotch. The smirk flashed into a grin as the flesh beneath her swelled considerably. “From the feel of things, I’d say we’re both up for this.”
He groaned. Whether it was from the bad pun, or the fact she’d rocked herself against his erection for extra emphasis, she wasn’t sure—although she could hazard a guess. From the way his hands tightened, and the muscles of his abdomen rippled, she’d bet anything that his reaction had more to do with her physical stimulation than her smartass quip.
With a shudder he straightened. “Then let’s take this to the bedroom. I’ve been having mad fantasies about getting you naked and under me in that bed of yours.”
“That sounds like a phenomenal idea.” With a smile of agreement, she looped her arms around his neck.
He slipped an arm beneath her butt and another around her back, swung his legs off the couch and stood. The fact he did so without huffing, staggering, or showing any signs that he even noticed her weight, was about the sexiest thing Kaylea had ever experienced.
Max bounced up and pranced around Logan’s legs as he carried her—without effort—across the living room. When they reached the bedroom door Logan blocked the dog’s entrance.
“Sorry buddy. We don’t need an audience.” He kicked the door shut behind them.
When he reached the bed, he carefully set her on the edge, before dropping to his knees. His expression intent, he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and raised it a few inches then leaned forward to press his mouth against the exposed skin. Kaylea sucked her breath in, the muscles of her belly quaking. It was a startling contrast, the erotic glide of his scratchy palms followed by the damp heat of his lips.
The shirt crept up another few inches, and his hot mouth followed. She jolted at the sudden scrape of his teeth. When his tongue swept out to sooth the slight sting, damp heat flooded her chest and swept down, liquefying her muscles and pooling between her thighs.
Her breathing ragged, she pressed her thighs together and clenched the muscles of her butt, subconsciously trying to alleviate the throb between her legs. He made a rough sound of satisfaction at the tell tale movement and stopped long enough to suck hard on the skin of her belly.
Holy crap.
The muscles of her back went limp. As she collapsed against the bed, the strangest thought exploded in her head.
Logan had just given her a hickey. Her first hickey.
Following her onto the bed, Logan continued his slow, sensual assault. Inch by inch he pushed her shirt up, trailing silky kisses and stinging little nips in its wake. By the time the shirt was bunched up at her throat, she’d forgot
ten how to breathe and every muscle in her body had liquefied into a lethargic puddle.
That damp throb between her legs, on the other hand, had turned vicious and the swollen flesh was getting wetter with each kiss.
He focused on her bra long enough to unlatch it and shove it aside and then his hot, devilish mouth closed over her right breast. She was so intent on the hard, urgent suckling against the swollen flesh and the way he periodically used his tongue to lave the nipple before nipping it, she didn’t notice what his hand was doing. At least until it unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her thighs. In the interest of helping out, she kicked them off completely.
Suddenly impatient for the feel of his hot flesh against hers, she lifted her shoulders and head and peeled her shirt off. As he tucked a hand inside her panties, she wrestled with his shirt, trying to tug it over his head. But his hand kept distracting her.
When it slipped between her thighs and slid up, she lost her grip on his shirt and pressed her shoulders into the mattress. Spreading her legs to give him easier access, she held her breath, praying he’d take her up on the silent invitation. He made a soft, thick sound against her breast and slid two fingers into the wet folds guarding her sex.
“Jesus,” the words he muttered against her breast were so thick they were unrecognizable, “you’re so wet for me.”
Of course, that brought another gush of moisture, and he laughed softly.
Pressing his fingers deeper into her damp heat, he rubbed her clitoris, timing the thrust of his fingers to match his suckling.
Panting, Kaylea arched. A hot, damp tension gathered in her, cinching tighter and tighter. His fingers and mouth moved faster and harder, driving her towards that looming cliff. And then every cell in her body seemed to explode. Her muscles went rigid, and she convulsed. Spasm after spasm swept through her.
When awareness returned, she discovered her panties were off and his head was between her legs.
“Logan!” she protested, her voice still throaty and raw from the orgasm. Fair was fair, and it was his turn.
His laugh was wicked. Those scratchy palms slid beneath the cheeks of her butt and tilted her pelvis.
Holy God!
She choked back a scream as his hot mouth latched onto her sex and suckled. Instantly he dragged her back into that erotic moist vise of tension. The urgent throb between her legs returned, quickly becoming unbearable. She ground her shoulders into the mattress and her sex against his mouth, while urgent, animalist cries broke from her.
As she writhed there, caught between intense pleasure and pain, she felt him ease back. His weight lifted from her overheated body. Opening eyes she hadn’t even known she’d closed, she watched him straighten next to the bed. He stripped the shirt over his head, removed a condom from his pocket, shoved his jeans and shorts down and kicked them aside.
As he stood there naked, she admired the lean, muscled planes of his chest and thighs. His shoulders were roped with muscle; so were his arms and his flat abdomen.
The man obviously worked out.
Curious, her gaze dropped to the thick, jutting flesh between his legs, and her breath caught, partly in trepidation and partly in awe. He hadn’t been that large in college; did the male penis lengthen and broaden as they matured?
He ripped open the condom wrapper and donned the thin sheath with quick, deft movement, then returned to the bed, settling between her spread thighs.
His heavy body pressed her into the mattress as he reached down to adjust her legs over his hips. And then she felt him there, the smooth hard heat of his penis brushing against the sensitive skin along her thighs.
Fire roared through her and pooled between her legs. She could feel the dampness gathering to ease his entrance. She groaned, her head thrashing against the bedspread as he opened her swollen, wet folds and guided his penis into place. He nudged the bulbous head into the tight opening and reached down to reposition her hips.
She caught a glimpse of his hard face, the unfocused glaze to his eyes, the sweat that damped his hair and ran down his temples. Twin flags of red rode his cheekbones, and his mouth was thin and hard.
And then the hot, huge length of him pushed inside her.
She groaned, almost sobbing as she writhed beneath him. The thick shaft stretching her was almost unbearable.
He grunted, swore thickly, and eased back. Rough fingers stroked her tightly-stretched opening and dropped to rub her clit. She jolted at the caress, and his penis inched forward. He stroked her again, rubbing his finger back and forth, and then dropped his head to nuzzle her throat. He nibbled his way around to the side, and gently caught the distended tendon with his teeth.
She jolted hard against him, the fire cresting inside her, a keening cry breaking from her arched throat. He rocked his hips slightly, matching the rhythm to the stroking of his finger and the suckling of his mouth. With each slow rock of his hips, his penis caressed her swollen, stretched flesh and crept forward slightly.
In no time, the light stroking wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed all of him filling her, now.
She tightened her thighs around his hips and arched into his rocking. He slid forward, groaning as her tight flesh gave way, allowing him access. His slow, steady rocking faltered.
He swore, his voice thick and guttural. She arched again, a scream breaking from her as the burning length of him pressed home.
He grunted, pulled back slightly, and thrust again.
Oh god!
Wrapping her arms around him, she dug her fingers into the rigid muscles of his back, her body going rigid as the tension seized her again.
His thrusts gained momentum and lost rhythm until he was hammering into her with wild, primal urgency. She strained beneath him, her hips rising to meet the fall of his, her arms tight around his sides, her fingernails digging into his back, trying to hold on while they hurled toward the cliff.
And then they were flying, convulsing in unison, her breathless screams mingled with his guttural groans.
Chapter Ten
Logan returned to awareness slowly, his heart still hammering, and his muscles limp. The thin glaze of sweat coating his body chilled as it dried. It took effort to lift his head so he could check on the woman lying so silent and limp beneath him.
Christ, things had gotten out of control fast. He hadn’t intended to batter into her like a rabid animal. With a muffled curse, he rolled and sat up. Kaylea froze for a moment before turning her head to look at him. Her dark eyes were shuttered and distant. He could feel her walls going up.
Damn it.
Locking the frustration down, he slid off the bed, pulled the sheet and bed spread back as far as he could with Kaylea’s splayed body lying in the way, then leaned over to pick her up. Her arms slowly lifted, curling around his neck, and the tightness gathering in his chest eased. He shuffled sideways a few steps and laid her down again before climbing into the bed beside her. She slid over to give him room.
He didn’t want room, though. He didn’t want the distance looming between them. He wanted to get inside her again, as soon as possible, but baring that he needed skin on skin contact. So he burrowed his left arm beneath her shoulders and drew her against his side. She came silently, but curled into his shoulder, her dark hair soft as satin against his bare shoulder. His chest loosened a bit more.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.
“For what?”
He winced at the wariness in her dark eyes. “I didn’t mean to pounce on you. I was going to take it slow, easy. I was going to be careful.”
Instead he’d taken her hard and fast, without the gentleness she deserved. He’d been an ass. No wonder she’d taken a dozen giant steps back and to the side.
Her eyes widening, she straightened and tilted her head to study his face. “You don’t regret it?”
“Loving you? Christ no.” It was his turn to straighten. It was the oddest thing, probably a tr
ick of the light, but he could swear her eyes lightened.
She settled back against him again, her head on his shoulder, a smile touching the corners of her lips. This time the silence that hummed between them was comfortable.
“You’ve learned some new tricks since college,” she said with an airy lightness that didn’t quite ring true.
He grinned, playing along and bent his head, brushing a kiss over her forehead. “You inspired me.”
Although it had been more than inspiration—it had been as close to an emotional epiphany as he’d ever come. He’d thought the sex had been special in college, but that memory didn’t come close to what he’d just experienced. Being inside her... he shook his head, grimacing at his uncustomary loss of balance. Christ, it had been like finding a piece of himself he hadn’t even known was missing.
“But you must have been, you know—practicing since we—well, since back then.” Her voice was hesitant and she kept her head tucked, avoiding his eyes.
He slipped two fingers under her chin and lifted, holding her embarrassed gaze. “Not nearly as much as you seem to think.”
Her brows furrowed at that and she raised herself, propping her elbow on the mattress and her head on her palm. “Why? You’re a good looking, sexy as hell guy. There must have been women coming out of the woodwork.”
A zip of heat went through him, and his dick hardened. He ignored the urge to roll her over and bury himself inside her again. The walls were finally coming down. He wasn’t going to screw things up again.
He shrugged and scraped a hand down his face, feeling the prickle of stubble against his palm. He needed to shave before their next bout, make sure he didn’t mark that soft skin. “Too busy, I guess. I was constantly on the road after one unsub or another.”
She absently stroked a hand over his chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake and flesh aching for the return of her touch. “There are women federal agents, aren’t there? It seems to me that dating a coworker would have been natural. You’d have someone who shared your lifestyle, someone you could talk to who understood the terrible things you must have seen on a daily bases.”
