by Tina Donahue
Logan slowed his licks, then stopped, reluctance in his actions. “You all right?”
She coughed once more and fought for more air. “Yeah. I’m—”
No need to finish, he was already back at it, not stopping for another word, suckling her with stunning resolve. Wanting her to come again?
Yes.
Tessa gripped the bag’s handle, needing something to hang onto, to tug and twist. Through clenched teeth she moaned, guttural, wanton sounds. This was too freaking much, too—
She shattered for the second time, her thoughts and willpower scattering. As powerful as her first orgasm had been, this one was monumental. Debilitating. Leaving her lethargic and weak.
Her legs bowed outward. Tessa simply didn’t have the strength to keep them upright. At last, Logan stopped licking and stroking her. She sensed him lifting his head, studying her expression. No doubt her features were slack with contentment, while his were smug. His pride puffed up because he’d proven himself.
Tessa knew Logan was no fool, deceived by fabricated passion. The kind Felicity might have delivered to boost a man’s ego while avoiding true intimacy. Tessa’s body told Logan everything he needed to know.
She was so wet, the heated breeze felt positively cool as it glanced over her cunt. Lightly, Logan ran his fingers over her damp folds, proof of his male power over her. She sighed in thanks as he touched his mouth to hers, delivering a taste of herself on his lips. A bit salty, perfumed with her musk.
His flavor and scent were far better. What she craved. Wrapping her legs around his lean hips, Tessa held him as close as she could and kissed him with dizzying passion, keeping nothing back.
For minutes, they necked like teens, noisy and artless, each of them straining to get nearer. They might have continued for minutes more if not for the need to breathe. Logan settled his face against Tessa’s neck, his pleasant sighs tickling her skin. Smiling, she murmured, “Untie me.”
“No. Why?”
“I want to touch you.”
He had her free faster than Tessa would have believed possible. She tugged off the blindfold, tossing it aside.
“That goes back on later,” he warned.
“Whatever you want.”
He grinned.
Tessa ran her fingertips over his smile, delighted to see him so happy. When she reached the corner of his mouth, he turned and suckled her forefinger inside.
She chuckled, “Want to eat that now?”
He swirled his tongue around her digit before releasing it, then lifted his face. His hair skimmed his forehead, loose and mussed, just as it probably looked when he crawled out of bed. His eyes glittered with exuberance and mischief. “Not enough calories,” he said, answering her question. “I need to keep up my strength.”
That he did. “Then I better feed you.”
“In a sec.”
He held her for several minutes, a telling caress. Tessa offered comfort they both needed, holding him in a protective embrace, demanding nothing. Content, for the moment, to give.
When—or rather if—he decided to open up fully, as one person to another…as friends…she’d listen. She wouldn’t ask or pry, not about the important stuff.
Suddenly, he stirred, as though he’d had enough of these tender moments, or was worried that he’d already opened his heart too much, and she might actually slip inside.
Rolling off her, he pushed to a sitting position. “Here.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm to help her up.
“No, let me.” She took his hand before he could pull the bag closer. “I want to serve you.” She unfolded his fingers and pressed her mouth to his palm.
A pleasured hmmm escaped his throat. “Okay.”
He sounded as enthralled as Tessa had each time she’d said the same to him. Beaming, she handed Logan their beers, then sat facing him, legs crossed, cunt exposed as she pulled off a piece of her sandwich.
Not noticing, he watched her body jewelry swaying back and forth.
“Open up.” She drew the edge of the bread against his scrumptious lips.
Obviously distracted, he bit and chewed, his attention riveted to her nipples. Tessa leaned in to him and licked a dab of Dijon from the side of his mouth. He stopped chewing and breathing.
“More?” she whispered.
“Uh-huh.”
Wearing the same smug expression she’d sensed he’d had on earlier, Tessa slipped bite-size pieces into his mouth. Not once did she take her focus off him. She behaved as the perfect concubine, making him her world, no wish or desire he had too much for her to grant.
Logan licked mustard from her thumb and groaned with pleasure at her tonguing the base of his throat, pretending to capture crumbs that she’d said had dropped there.
His chest pumped with his forceful breaths. “Is that all you’re going to have, a few crumbs? Aren’t you going to eat too?”
“You bet I am.”
“Hey.”
Tessa gave Logan another shove, pushing him onto his back.
He grabbed her wrists before she could touch him. Although he held back considerably, his strength was still far greater than hers. “What are you doing?”
“Let go of me and you’ll see.” Leaning over him, the ends of her hair gliding over his chest, she purred, “I swear, it won’t be bad.”
Tessa worked one of her hands free and trailed her fingers down his fly, the solid bulge beneath it. He couldn’t get any more erect without experiencing some serious pain.
Carnal hunger practically oozed from him, bringing out the male animal, his indisputable desire.
He let go of her other hand and released a strained sigh at Tessa unbuttoning his jeans, lowering his fly.
She stared at his golden skin. No briefs or stretchy boxers to ruin the pretty picture. No tan lines either. Given his estate’s seclusion, he must have enjoyed his pool in the buff. Something they’d have to do before their time together was over.
Already less than seven full days.
Not that Tessa wanted to consider it now. She was having too much fun. Hastily, she folded back the ends of his jeans and ran her forefinger over the edge of his thick curls, darker than his brows and the hair on his head.
He squirmed. Tessa bent at the waist and kissed his taut belly.
“More,” he whispered, not even close to a command. A plea.
She tugged his jeans down. He lifted his hips, but only a bit, which kept Tessa from pushing his garment any farther than his upper thighs. Didn’t matter. His cock sprang free, fleshy, stiff, ruddy with passion, the smooth head rounded, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tiny slit.
Wow.
With great care, Tessa cupped his balls, a wonderfully heated package of masculinity, roughened with short, dark hairs, plump with desire.
Lustful sounds gurgled from him. The heels of his hands rested on his temples, his long fingers buried in his hair.
Wasting no time, Tessa cradled his glorious cock in her other hand. It was perfect, silky and hot, prominent veins snaking up the beefy column of flesh. She took a moment to smell him, treasuring his fragrance, clean yet sinfully sensuous.
“More,” he said, forcefully this time.
She flicked her tongue up his length, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin, noting his greedy moans. This still wasn’t enough for him.
Nor for her.
Tessa took him into her mouth, all the way, her throat opened, her nose brushing his thatch of dark curls.
Logan stiffened. On each side of her, his legs tensed, his balls plumping even more. She ran her thumbnail over them, taking care to do no harm.
The noises he made in response were uncivilized, barely human. Completely exciting and endearing. More than anything, Tessa wanted to please him. To deliver such ecstasy, he’d concentrate on nothing else.
She worked him in and out of her mouth, swirling her tongue around the most sensitive part of his crown even as she caressed his balls.
He squirmed and b
abbled, saying stuff she couldn’t quite catch, interrupting it with a breathless swear. Through it all, she continued as he had with her. Not giving an inch, propelling him toward climax.
Logan fought it for minutes. Sweat dampened the front of his tee. His face flushed with color, reminding Tessa of a kid holding his breath.
Come on, let go, allow yourself to—
On a strangled shout, he came, his cum spurting into Tessa’s mouth. She drank it gladly, greedily, enjoying the creamy texture and faint saltiness that was similar to other men’s though not identical. His flavor was unique. One she’d come to know quite well during these next days. Thrilled at what those hours would hold, what they’d do, she allowed his cock to slip from her mouth and looked up.
He’d draped his arm over his eyes, his fist still clenched, his body shuddering with the aftereffects of his climax.
Two flies buzzed close, checking out what was left of his sandwich. Tessa left it to them. She had better things to do.
“Oh holy shit,” Logan rasped. He lifted his hips from the afghan.
Tessa followed, his right ball in her mouth, its alluring weight on her tongue. She licked and suckled as gently as she could.
Though not gentle enough for Logan. He barked, “Good god, you’re killing me.”
Not even close. She hoped to give him seven days he couldn’t forget…at least not right away. Tessa wondered how many times he’d done this, or something similar, with other escorts. Dozens? Hundreds? Probably. He was a healthy young man who required what every adult did. Sexual relief and intimacy, even if it were only physical.
Although that was what had brought her here, she wanted to give both of them more. Memories he’d hopefully treasure as much as she would.
She tongued his right ball out of her mouth and eased the left one inside, adoring its texture and taste. All male.
He panted, groaned, and swore frequently, but didn’t tell Tessa to stop. More than likely, he figured she wouldn’t.
Once he was too sluggish to resist any longer, his strength no more than a memory, Tessa released him. She kissed his belly, then rested her head on it.
After several minutes had passed, Logan stroked her hair, his movements alternately jerky and listless. He yawned loud enough to chase away the newest flies, then mumbled, “We should go inside.”
She snuggled closer, making no effort to get up. This was too nice. The air was still warm, but had lost a bit of its heat. Vegetation, flowers, the sweet scent of freshly cut grass perfumed the air, along with the fragrance of suntan lotion and their musk. Birds warbled their songs. Other than that and the leaves rustling in the wind, it was quiet. No planes overhead. No motors purring down the road. “Why?”
“There are beds in there.”
She ran her hand over his weary cock and down his muscular thigh. “I have no complaints about this. Go on, take a nap. I know you need to.”
“And you don’t?”
Tessa heard his skepticism and male pride beneath it. “I’m good. Could probably run a couple of miles without breaking a sweat.”
“Wow. I’d like to see that. Go on. Dazzle me.”
She held back a yawn. “I don’t know my way around here. I could get lost.”
“Just follow the road. About a mile up is the caretaker’s house. You can take a look inside. Like I said, they won’t be back until next Sunday.”
Because he’d planned this very well. In appreciation, Tessa suckled his belly.
Logan sighed loudly. “Or you could keep doing that.”
Just shy of giving him a world-class hickey, Tessa stopped and rested her cheek below his navel, her eyes closed. “In a few hours, when you get back your strength…that is, if you can get it back—”
“If?” he interrupted. “Hours?”
“That’s right. You’re only forty-eight. Still almost young.”
“I’m thirty-three.”
“Seriously?”
He reached over and playfully smacked her ass.
Nice. “Hey, I believe you,” she said, blindly drawing her initials on his belly. “And I think it’s great that you’re still relatively young.”
He laughed good-naturedly at her teasing, the sound rumbling in his belly.
Leaning up, Tessa licked the short dark hairs beneath his navel, then grinned inwardly at how that made Logan release all of his breath. “Tell you what, I’ll give you five minutes to pull yourself together and to ditch your clothes, then we’ll make love out here.”
“No.”
He’d answered so quickly, so harshly, Tessa lifted her head.
His knuckles were white from clenching his fingers, his arm still draped over his eyes.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll go inside. As soon as you want.”
He didn’t respond. She watched his tension build, then drain away, as though he’d willed it to do so.
“We can go inside in a minute,” he finally mumbled.
Embarrassment and apology colored his words, no doubt for responding as he had. She waited for more.
“It’s all right,” he murmured, composed not irritated. “We’ll stay here for the time being. We’ll rest.”
Tessa nodded. Logan didn’t see.
“Sure,” she said.
Offering no further comment, he remained as he was, pretending to fall asleep, then finally doing so, just as she’d said he should.
His features relaxed, giving him the look of contentment and trust. Tessa drank him in, moved by the image he presented. A strong man lost to slumber. Peaceful finally?
She thought back to the last minutes, trying to determine what she’d said that was so wrong. So obviously hurtful to him.
Chapter Eight
A schematic of Logan’s latest medical device filled his mind. He could see only snatches of it with those images smeared, impossible to read. He brought the papers closer to his face, then wondered why he wasn’t looking at them on his computer. Didn’t make sense.
Was he dreaming?
With the heel of his hand, he rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. No good. In his dream, or whatever this was, he might as well have been looking at the diagrams through a coating of Vaseline.
Something tickled his hand. A thick tress of long, honey-blonde hair.
Tessa’s?
He wound the strand around his palm repeatedly, trying to find her, but couldn’t. He followed the lock across his office and through the hall to the front door, not understanding how her hair could be so lengthy.
Molly sniffed at his heels. Jack yapped.
“Quiet,” he scolded.
Both pups whined loudly.
Logan opened the front door. Instead of his estate, he saw the auction’s stage. Tessa chained to a column, her nudity presented to a crowd of men. The bids came fast. At the podium, Ronnie smiled and pointed to one of the men in back, his face concealed by the shadows.
“You’re the winner,” Ronnie told him. “Claim your prize.”
No. Hell no. Logan’s shoulders bunched. “She’s mine,” he called out.
“Touch me,” Tessa breathed from behind him. “Take me.”
Logan turned and squinted at the spotlight pouring down on them. From where? He looked up and saw the sun. Its heat warmed his face, shoulders, chest. He was naked. When had that happened?
Suddenly, Tessa was behind him, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, her fingers skimming his back, touching the rutted skin, the scarring from—
Logan awoke with a start, his heart slamming into his chest. He stared stupidly at the sun winking through countless leaves. A fly buzzed near his face. He swatted at it, his dream returning. Tessa stroking his disfigurement.
Instinctively, he touched his tee, relieved he still wore it. His jeans were bunched around his thighs, his cock resting on his balls, exactly as he recalled before conking out.
He glanced to the side. Tessa’s back was to him, her head titled upward as she took a long quaff of beer. The ends of her hair rea
ched past the middle of her back, one tress swaying above a small brown mole. Finished with her prolonged sip, she belched quietly, apologized to no one in particular…her tone hushed…put the empty bottle on the afghan and went to her hands and knees to peer at something in the grocery bag.
From this angle, Logan had a perfect view of her cunt. Those smooth, moist folds were more beautiful than anything men could create. They snatched his breath and sent a torrent of animal desire through his limbs. Several blades of grass were stuck to her right buttock and left calf. Another mole graced the middle of her thigh. At the top of her ass were two deep dimples, just as tantalizing as the one she made when smiling.
He rolled to the side and moved awkwardly in his jeans—but as swiftly as he could—until he was between her legs.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, his hand on her voluptuous ass.
Tessa looked over. Her hair spilled forward, veiling her face.
So much for following his orders.
Logan eased her tresses away, catching a whiff of the booze she’d drunk. Tessa’s gaze questioned. He thought it also yearned, the same as his.
This simply wasn’t going as he’d planned. He’d wanted to mount her in his bedroom, just as he’d envisioned earlier when he’d been there and she’d been downstairs, cooing to Molly and speaking to someone at the agency. He needed that measure of control, being able to dim the lighting or use candles to create a romantic, dreamy scene. Less harsh and revealing than the unforgiving sun out here. That’s why he’d spoken so harshly to her before he’d fallen asleep. And felt like a total shit for doing so. He’d sensed her confusion and hurt. At the time, he’d wanted to pull her into his arms, tell her how he really felt.
Trouble was, he didn’t know how that might be, except scared. Of disappointing and somehow failing her. With that being totally nuts. She was here to see to his needs, not the other way around. Didn’t she keep telling him that?
He had to try harder to put this into perspective and keep his distance.
He eased closer, drawn to her by a force he didn’t understand and definitely feared. Unable to sort it out, Logan simply went with the flow, amazed at how fucking down to earth she was, no obvious artifice, her giving nature as intrinsic to her character as her green eyes. Within them, intelligence burned, along with wisdom and empathy. At one time in his life, during the worst of his days with Nicole, he might have welcomed Tessa’s compassion. Not now. Not this minute. He needed to be macho man.
