Chasing Ava: A Bachelor of Shell Cove Novel (The Bachelors of Shell Cove)

by London, Siera

  “But … I can tell that he likes you. He watches you. I saw this episode on Animal Planet and the male lion watches before they claim the lioness by biting her on the neck. Or something like that.” Ava laughed.

  “I’m sure Dr. Masters would not appreciate that comparison.”

  “Okay. I guess I was wrong. But, his jaw twitches if another man comes within ten feet of you. He’s such a guy.”

  Ava didn’t know what to make of the observations of a sixteen-year-old girl. The very accurate observations that she would not discuss with her adolescent patient, thank you very much. After that display in the cafe, he was such a guy. Logan was protective, attentive, with a little cave man bravado thrown in for good measure. Perfect.

  “You certainly see a lot from your bed,” Ava said clearing her throat. It was probably best to end this conversation. “Listen, I have to check on the other patients before I come back with your medications.”

  “Okay,” Monique replied without enthusiasm. “One more question, Ava?”

  “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  “I overheard Kathryn mention a commissioning packet. Are you leaving?”

  “My goodness, you don’t miss much, do you?”

  “My dad retired from the US Navy. He was a commissioned officer. Are you joining the military?”

  “It’s a dream of mine to serve as a nurse corps officer in the US Navy. I am applying for commission, but it’s a personal decision I decided not to share.”

  “Oh, I get it. You don’t want Dr. Masters to know.”

  “Monique.”

  “Okay, okay. I won’t mention anything about you and Dr. Masters being together again.” Ava offered a sideways glance before existing the room. Logan couldn’t know. He would try and stop her. And she would consider it, for him.

  Chapter 10

  He didn’t want to think about what he would do if she ever left him.

  “Sweetheart, you are an amazing cook. If you continue cooking for me, my workouts will be extended by an hour.”

  Looking up from the sink full of dishes, she smiled up at him. He would never tire of seeing those full lips curved up in happiness. Happiness he had a hand in creating.

  “Thank you for the compliment, but my cooking is nothing special.”

  In the three weeks they had been together the woman was still uncomfortable with compliments.

  “I disagree. This chef’s kitchen has seen more hot meals in three weeks, than in total of the previous five years. How did you learn to cook everything so well?”

  She tilted her head before batting those mile long lashes at him.

  “Well … I’m the direct descendant of an exceptional cook. It’s relaxing to smell the combination of spices fill a room. Now, if you don’t stop with all the accolades, your new career will be transporting my big head around the city.”

  She rinsed and stacked dinner plates as she spoke.

  “I would carry said big head without complaint.” He leaned forward across the counter top, placing a kiss on her forehead. And there was the blush spreading up her neck. It happened every time he touched her. So, he never passed on an opportunity to make contact with her.

  Logan’s kitchen was spacious with a center island. The double sinks were located in the island making it easy for her to set the kitchen right while he observed from one of the contoured swivel stools.

  “I love to cook and you love to eat. We are a perfect pair.” Slack-jawed and momentarily paralyzed, Logan stared at her with open curiosity.

  “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

  Logan noticed her hands tighten on the sponge. The corner of her lip trapped between her teeth.

  “Nothing is wrong.” The sponge plopped in the water, punching a hole in the suds when she released it. Lip released, sponge gone, she was relaxed again.

  “It’s nice to hear you say we’re perfect together. Do you believe it?” An unequivocal yes would be the best answer. He was analyzing, deciphering every nuance of her body language. Waiting for her response. A response that was slow in coming.

  What did she believe about their relationship?

  “I believe … I like you, too much for my own sanity.”

  Work kept her busy, she canned and pickled her garden bounty, she talked with Lina, but she never felt sated until she saw Logan. She felt her resolve weaken every second around him. He was getting to her. Correction, he had gotten to her.

  “What do you believe I feel for you?” Posture stiff and sporting a clench jaw, he didn’t look happy with her.

  “Logan, you’ve told me how you feel.” She glanced around, uneasy with the topic of discussion. No good deed goes unpunished.

  “Answer my question, Ava. What do you believe?” He would probably tire of her, leave her more of an emotional wreck than she already was.

  “I know that you want me. I believe that you are committed to getting what you want.”

  A version of the truth was better than not answering.

  “And after I get what I want. What happens next?”

  He had both hands on the counter, boring into her with those piercing green eyes.

  “You can’t expect me to know that.”

  She didn’t want to know. Thoughts of being tossed aside plagued her the longer they stayed together. And she couldn’t bear to think of him with another woman. They operated in two very different worlds. She could be with him, but not forever.

  He rose from his stool, leaving the last of his whiskey sour on the counter. He walked toward her never dropping his gaze. The brush of his knuckles against her cheek had her holding her breath.

  “Remember what I’m about to tell you. I keep what I claim. No one takes it and I don’t let it go.” Heaven help them both if she claimed him back.

  As he moved away she released the breath she had been holding. It was over. The fluttering in her chest would stop in a moment. The tumbler she was washing slipped through her fingers as his groin spooned her backside and his hand descended into the water. Her back stiffened.

  “Logan what are you doing? You know I like to clean my own kitchen.”

  “I know what you like, but this is my kitchen. You asked me not to praise you. I’m helping you wash the dishes tonight. We’ll finish faster with four hands.” He was stroking her wet forearms. Leaning back into his body heat, a tingle of pleasure skirted across her senses and her legs went weak.

  “You can praise, but...” Her mind went blank as he pulled his hands from the warm water and placed them over her breasts. The water quickly seeped through the thin fabric of her spaghetti strapped tank top. Her skin heated. And yes, her pulse rate jumped like a cat on a hot tin roof. Nipples beaded and pushed against the lace cups of her bra, she instinctively moved closer to his heat.

  “Logan?” Shaky voice, shaky legs, burning inside, this was not good.

  “Yes, sweetheart.” He didn’t waste any time pushing her bra aside to cup her breasts. He rolled taut buds between his fingers. Her breasts and her sex were their own invisible pulley system. Each tug on her nipples delivered a corresponding pull, low and deep in her core. His fingers moved with firm, sure strokes over her peaks. Her breasts swelled to fill his hands. In a word, magic. Her body transported to another space in time.

  “Oh, that feels good.” Each time he moved, his manhood bumped against her bottom, sending electrified pulses through her veins.

  “We both are going to have very large heads. Your response is great for my ego.” His voice just above a whisper, heated her more. Flushed and panting, with a human igniter wrapped around her body, there had to be steam rising from the sink because she was about to burn right out of her clothes.

  “I can’t think with your hands on me, you know.” Her mind screamed for him to move away, while her traitorous body roared for him to keep working his magic.

  “Don’t think, feel.” He lifted her feet off the ground and placed her on the cool granite covering the kitchen island. His eyes, darke
ned with passion, caressed her skin as he pulled the straps of the tank down her arms. His handsome face, with that chiseled jaw was more breathtaking covered in a five o’clock shadow. His strong fingers adeptly released the front clasp of her bra. And she moaned as the constricting material fell away from her body revealing the mounds beneath.

  “You are breathtaking.” His voice was low and silky. Swallowing, she met his gaze.

  “And you are unbelievable. I struggle with the idea that you want me.” The kiss was deep, thorough, and promising. He pulled back, and she leaned forward seeking contact before he came into focus.

  “Believe it, because it will never change.” His voice was unwavering, his eyes alert. Shoulders back as if challenging her to deny his declaration.

  The warmth from his hands enveloped her breasts. She hissed at the heat of his touch and he captured every sound with his mouth. The feel of him kneading her breasts in a slow sensual pattern was pure intoxication. With each caress the pressure he applied intensified. She moaned. Her eyes drifted closed as she gave herself over to his ministrations. A soft pinch had her eyes opening, not in pain, but shear sexual excitement.

  “I more than want you, Ava. I crave your scent, your touch, and your body. Everything.”

  He moved to capture her lips. Overwhelmed by his need for her, she turned her face away. She should stop, before she became a casualty of lust. Quickly followed by heartbreak.

  “Stay put, Ava.” Two strong hands on her hips brought her unbelievably close to his growing anatomy. If she could put a little distance between, maybe she could regain her equilibrium. Doubtful, but wishful thinking was free.

  “The alcohol. You’ve nursed that drink all night.” Okay it wasn’t the best excuse. Redirecting Logan wasn’t a skill she had mastered.

  “First, a man does not nurse anything. Second, you will taste me. Nothing else.” Without further explanation he claimed her lips. This kiss was akin to opening the floodgate on the Hoover Dam. It was devastating. He’d ruined her. She couldn’t kiss anyone over twelve months of age for as long as she lived.

  The slow smile that spread across his gorgeous full lips said that had been his intention.

  The tug on her nipples reignited his spell. Chasing each ragged breath, her eyes met his briefly before sliding to half mast as the pressure gentled and intensified at a rhythmic pace. Then everything stopped. She opened her eyes to discover him watching. Noting her responses to everything he did. She wanted to demand he continue.

  “Your verdict, madam?” A gleam in his eyes and the relaxed posture spoke of his confidence in a positive report.

  “You taste delicious.” She could package his kind of passion to carry around her neck. Heck, she might hang a few vials on a charm bracelet in case of emergencies.

  “You want to try one of the cute ladies’ drinks the next time we are out?”

  “With my history for mishaps, one drink of alcohol would probably result in me being a near drowning victim in Queens Bay.” She hesitated sharing her complete thought. One bold gesture a day was her limit. “Besides … I like the way we drink.” She felt the heat on her neck, creep to her cheeks.

  “You mean from my mouth, to yours?” A nod was all she could give, because the smoldering look in his eyes threatened to topple her off the counter top.

  “Taste.” The only word he muttered before plunging back into her mouth. Breaching her defenses and going below the radar. She wanted to go as deep as he was willing to take her.

  With him assaulting her mouth and those rhythmic pulls and strokes at her breasts again, she had to disengage from the kiss. She was making sounds no lady should be capable of producing. She was a hairline fracture away from melting into a puddle of chocolate, when a hot, wet mouth closed around her right breast. A throaty moan tore from her lips, and she pressed herself deeper into his mouth, grabbing his nape to hold him close.

  “Oh my Todd.” He sucked hard on her nipple, the sensation bordering on pain. “Logan,” his name released on a hiss.

  She groaned her protest when he released her. The warmth of his mouth lingered on her skin. Adding to her pleasure. His firm hand cupped her chin.

  “Not Todd. Not God. My name.” She was learning what pleased him. And Logan was forthcoming in his demands. She nodded her head in understanding. How could she mess this up?

  Seconds later, heat skirted up her belly as he licked and sucked at her taut peaks until she was mewling out of control. His talented, expertly skilled tongue had her bathing in sensual flames. She felt his teeth graze her nipple, and she arched her back desperately pushing more of her breast into his mouth.

  “Logan, don’t stop,” she groaned.

  He released the snap on her jeans, easing the zipper down while maintaining the hold on her breast. In sexual overdrive, she felt the silky material of her lace thong moisten in anticipation. She instinctively spread her legs wide wrapping them around the outside of his thighs. He was going to touch her. Feel the dampness of her feminine curls just before he reached the heart of her wetness.

  Ring, Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring, Ring.

  Oh goodness, he had her head ringing in ecstasy. Her little nub throbbed begging for a release she had no knowledge of.

  Ring, Ring, Ring.

  Her cellular ringtone brought her back to the earth’s atmosphere.

  “Logan, my phone is ringing.” He responded by applying more pressure to her already sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a zing of current through her veins.

  She pressed at his shoulders. “Please,” her breath wispy and quick.

  He released her breast and stepped back a fraction. “As you wish,” he said, a barely audible whisper. His fingers made the slow ascent out of her panties.

  He lifted her off the island countertop. “Answer your phone, we have all night to finish this.” A few more minutes and she would have been a crewmember of the Starship Enterprise. What he was doing to her was out of this world.

  Discarding the bra and putting her pants right, she felt the spank to her backside the instant she turned away. Tossing a scowl of mock indignation in his direction, “Caveman,” she teased. Bounding off in search of the phone.

  “Night nurse,” he tossed back.

  Ava dashed across the hardwood floors in the family room to grab her phone from the charger with a smile on her face.

  “Hello?” The distraction would give her the opportunity to wrestle her X-rated urges into submission. Her grandmother’s voice rang clear and true through the connection.

  “Yes, I will stop by after work on Sunday.” Ava listened then she stiffened.

  She repeated Granny Lou’s question, as though she heard it the first time. “Why do I sound out of breath? I sound out of breath because I was running from the kitchen to answer the phone before it stopped ringing.”

  Logan appeared in the doorway, his eyes were watchful again.

  “You called my house.” Something akin to panic gripped Ava’s lungs. She couldn’t lie to her grandmother.

  “I’m at Logan’s. I cooked the Puerto Rican chicken, black beans and rice with corn salsa.” At the mention of Logan’s name her grandmother hadn’t asked any additional questions. Ava sagged in relief.

  “Yes, ma’am. Have a good night.” Hanging up, she let the phone drop to the couch. If Granny Lou hadn’t called she would have done the “wild thing” with Logan.

  “I should go home.”

  Logan walked up to her, taking her moist hands in his.

  “You are not leaving me.” He kissed the top of her head. His scent mixed with the confusion stirring in her brain. She wanted him, but she didn’t want to want him.

  “Ava.” She looked at him. “Stay the night. Nothing will happen until you are ready.” She looked down at the floor, not wanting him to see the uncertainty reflected in her eyes.

  A heavy sigh filled the too quiet space. “You don’t trust me.”

  She winced at the dead tone. She didn’t trust herself. Not with a
bedroom serving as her last line of defense before complete surrender. And it would be surrender. Especially, if he offered an encore to what just happed in the kitchen.

  “I do trust you or I wouldn’t have let you touch me or do that stuff.” She pointed at the kitchen island as heat rose to her cheeks. “Never mind.” She replayed their culinary foreplay moments before and took in his unreadable expression. She should go home. For a woman with the sexual control of a bunny rabbit on fertility drugs, distance was the logical choice.

  “I’ll stay.”

  She squeezed his hands until he made eye contact.

  Logan’s smile wavered before it spread with satisfaction across his handsome features. His roguish smile never failed to warm her insides and make her feel sweet and sticky for him.

  “Which bedroom is mine?”

  His smile fell away.

  “Ava, I hold the balance of life and death in my hands with a steady grip on a surgical blade day in and day out. I am capable of managing life altering decisions regarding complex medical conditions. But I cannot have you under my roof sleeping in another bedroom. You will sleep with me.”

  “I can’t sleep in your bed. Weird stuff happens when I get near you, when I smell you. Even the sound of your voice gets me panting and all kinds of other stuff. I might not be able to stop myself.” She looked away embarrassed by her lack of control.

  “Sweetheart, the same thing happens when you touch me. As long as I am the only man that makes you feel ‘weird’ stuff, we are great together. There are four other bedrooms in this house. You decide which bed we will christen tonight. I will gladly climb in any bed with you. Even in a miniature doll house if you were by my side.”

  “You wouldn’t fit in anything miniature.”

  “I’d figure out a way, if it made you happy.”

  They both laughed, but it didn’t ease the tension.

  “Logan, I’m scared.”

  She hated her weakness, her failure, and most of all her fear.

  “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. You are safe with me.” He reached for her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She started to heat up and warmth overflowed in her heart. He understood, courage bolstered, she gave voice to her next fear.