by J. L. Berg
“Oh my God, Logan. This is amazing.” I grabbed the door handle, dying to jump out of the car and explore. As a history major, or “history nerd” as Ethan used to call me, I had a love for everything old. It was one of the reasons I loved living in Virginia. Once I became a single mother, I had little time left for myself. My inner nerd had been seriously deprived over the last few years. Right now, she was bouncing up and down in excitement.
“So, good surprise?” he asked, still seated in the car.
“Yes! Perfect. Now let’s go! I want to see everything!”
Laughing at my enthusiasm, he opened his door, quickly running around to open mine. He was too late. I was already out of the car, practically foaming at the mouth. I was like a kid in a candy store. My eyes were darting everywhere. There were gardens, an old barn, the house…I wanted to see it all!
“I figured a history lover would have visited all the local plantations by now, but I took a chance on this one because of its location and the fact that it was a Bed and Breakfast.
“It’s magnificent,” I sighed. It was. Whoever owned the property took precious care of it. The pristine gardens had winding paths, budding roses, and ivy covered arches that all lead to a view of the James River that went on for miles.
“Come on. The Innkeeper, Ms. Thompson is expecting us,” Logan said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the grand entrance of the estate.
His hand felt warm and solid in mine and it began stirring something inside of me I hadn’t felt in a long time. I had the same feeling last week when he pulled me in his arms and kissed me senseless. Desire.
Walking along the path, I allowed myself a few moments to shamelessly look Logan up and down. God, he’s sexy. He wore dark jeans that rested low on his hips and hugged his ass and a tight fitted button down shirt that matched the dark color of his hair. He looked edible. The bottom button of his shirt was left undone, and I could see his belt buckle and a bit of skin peeking out whenever he moved just right. I wondered if that button was purposely undone because it was currently driving me insane. All I wanted to do was run my hands under that shirt and pet him until he purred.
He was still sporting his “just fucked” hairstyle, the norm for him I realized, and it was just as hot as it was the first time I saw him, all messy and tossed to perfection. We reached the front of the estate and just as I was contemplating what it would look like with my hands buried in it, he glanced back, basically catching me in the act of eye fucking him.
Oops.
One side of his mouth pulled into a mischievous, lopsided grin. His eyes alight with humor, he took a step closer to me so that we are inches apart.
“See something you like, Clare?”
“That’s got to be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I teased, even though, yes there were quite a number of things I saw at the moment I liked. But I just couldn’t let that cheeseball line go. It was horrible.
He shook his head, clearly amused, saying, “You must be the hardest woman in the world to flirt with.”
“Ohhhh that was flirting? I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” I mocked.
“Maybe I need to try harder,” he whispered in my ear, pulling my body flush against his, sending shivers racing down my spine.
Gently brushing the hair off my bare shoulder, his fingers trailed down my back to rest at my waist. All joking between us was gone, and I looked into his eyes with raw need.
“You are so beautiful, sweet Clare.”
Just as he started to lean in, his soft lips mere inches from mine, the Innkeeper came barreling through the door.
“Welcome to Thompson - oh! Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt!” she said, suddenly noticing our intimate embrace.
Taking everything in stride, Logan gave me a quick wink, “No apologies necessary, Ms. Thompson.” Logan politely responded, turning to face our host, but keeping his hand firmly secured around my waist. I was so glad he was the one speaking at that moment because he was obviously the more mature one. I wanted to scream “Go away!” so we could go back to the kiss she interrupted.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Logan and this lovely woman is Clare. We very much appreciate your hospitality this evening.”
Ms. Thompson, an older woman who reminded me of my grandmother fell instantly under Logan’s spell the moment he spoke and was practically swooning. Her eyes were roaming all over my date. I held back the laugh that was currently lodged in my throat. I had to give the old woman credit though, she had good taste. “Well, why don’t you two come on in, and we’ll get you all set for your garden tour?” Ms. Thompson suggested brightly, leading the way into the expansive house.
The interior of the house was just as stunning as I knew it would be. I couldn’t help but run my hands over the hand-carved banister, or brush my fingers along the antique furnishings. The family had done an amazing job of keeping everything maintained and the history preserved. There wasn’t a single modern looking item in view. It was as if you had stepped back in time. Ms. Thompson assured us that the house was equipped with all the modern conveniences, but they had made sure with each upgrade that the integrity of the house was maintained.
Ms. Thompson wasn’t giving us an official tour of the house until later, but I still found myself stopping at least a dozen times as we made our way through the halls to admire one thing or another. Being the ever gracious host, Ms. Thompson entertained my curiosity with interesting tidbits and facts from her family’s history. Logan must have enjoyed history himself because he stood with me, listening intently to every word and even asking questions of his own.
We finally made our way to the main parlor, a large room with antique sofas and family portraits hung on the walls. There was a large picnic basket set on a coffee table with a neatly folded blanket set to the side. A single red rose sat on top of the blanket.
“Wow! What is this?” I exclaimed.
“Well, I wanted you to have something special on your tour of the gardens, so I packed you a little something.” This was a “little something”? What did the woman consider a meal? Logan might have to use a wheelbarrow to get me out of here.
She grabbed the large wicker basket and blanket and handed it to Logan. She offered Logan the rose and a wink and pushed us toward the front of the house.
“Now off you go! I’ve got a meal to prepare! Enjoy!” she commanded sweetly as she walked in the opposite direction, humming softly to herself.
Logan took the perfect red rose and handed it to me, never breaking eye contact until he reached over to kiss me softly on the cheek. I bit my lip in a vain attempt to keep the blush from creeping up my face. With a quick wink, he adjusted the basket to his right hand and grabbed mine with his left and we head for the door. Since that moment on the porch when we almost kissed, he hadn’t stopped touching me. As we walked through the house with our host earlier, his hand sought out mine, or he’d wind his hand around my waist. It was like he was making sure I was still there and I didn’t want him to stop.
Walking back outside, we took a left, intent on the larger of the two gardens. Ms. Thompson said this was the better of the two and perfect for a late day picnic. I personally didn’t know how you could choose a favorite, but I wasn’t a gardener. Anyone who could keep a flower alive was a genius in my book.
The late day sun felt warm against my skin as we began our stroll down the garden path, meandering through arched trellises and flowering trees. Looking over at Logan as he carried the large basket and had the blanket tucked under his arm, I chuckled.
“You sure you can handle that heavy basket all by yourself, Logan?” He insisted on carrying everything, and I carried only the red single rose. Sometime male chivalry is dumb.
“You wound me, Clare.” He moaned in mock pain, gesturing to his heart with our joined hands.
I giggled, “Ahh, poor Logan. Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need a lollipop? Maddie always likes suckers when she’s upset.” I preferred chocola
te. Lollipops did nothing for me.
Looking mischievous, he said, “No sucker, thanks. But I can think of something else to lick that would make me a great deal happier.”
“Perv!” I yelled, playfully hitting him on the shoulder with my free hand.
“You walked right into that one, and I wasn’t lying,” he laughed.
“You would think with a best friend like Leah I would have learned not to say things like that by now!” I huffed, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably due to the grin I couldn’t seem to shake.
“No, please don’t. I am a huge fan of your oblivious dirty talk.”
“I do not talk dirty!” I cried.
“We’ll see,” he said, no longer joking. Those two little words held promise and possibility and I took an audible gulp as my mind started racing with indecent thoughts. Okay, yes. I did have a dirty mind. Sue me.
“Is here a good spot for our picnic?” Logan asked, pointing to a bright open space located underneath a flowering dogwood tree.
“What? Oh! Yes!” I babbled, realizing I’d been so completely engrossed in my Logan fantasy world I had barely noticed we had already been through half the garden by now. Weren’t women supposed to be able to multi-task? Apparently only ones who were getting regularly laid.
Logan spread out the blanket and we both began unpacking the overflowing basket, settling ourselves Indian style across from each other on the large blanket. When Ms. Thompson said she packed “a few things” she was being a bit modest. Inside the basket there was a large array of fruit, cheeses, breads and crackers. The sugar addict in me also noticed the cookies, brownies and....jelly beans? I looked up at Logan and he just smiled. She also gave us a bottle of chilled white wine, a corkscrew and wine glasses. It was a feast, and this was only our appetizer.
“This is, wow. Amazing. How did you set this up? And don’t think I haven’t noticed we are the only ones here,” I said. I was very curious how he managed to empty out a six bedroom inn on a Saturday.
“I wanted our first date to be about us. No busy restaurant or crowded streets. We can do all of that later, but today I just wanted to be about you and me. It’s amazing what a bit of money and a lot of charm can do. And I have that,” he grinned. “Plus Ms. Thompson’s a bit of a romantic, so it didn’t take much to twist her arm,” he added.
“It’s lovely Logan. Every part of it. Thank you.”
“Well it isn’t over, so don’t give me a perfect score yet. There’s still time. I could still completely fuck it up!” he joked.
“Even so, I think it’d still go down as the best first date ever,” I confessed.
His eyes flashed up to mine quickly in surprise, and then I realized what I just said. This wasn’t a simple first date for him, I realized. He must constantly be wondering what or who I’m thinking about. I wondered if he feared he’d never measure up. If he thought he would constantly come in second place to a ghost. I wanted to ask him and then soothe his fears because it wasn’t what I was thinking at all. But not here. Not on our first date, in this beautiful garden, when everything is so perfect. So, instead of using words, I did the only other thing I could, I showed him. Leaning forward on my hands, I gently placed my lips on his. He groaned at the contact, and all of a sudden his control snapped. He snaked his arm around my waist and hauled me onto his lap. Tilting my head to the side, he deepened the kiss and plunged his tongue inside, consuming me. With my legs wrapped around his torso, I felt him hard and ready between our bodies and I instinctively ground against him. I was completely lost in him, and the world disappeared.
“Stop, ah fuck. We’ve got to stop,” he gasped, desperately trying to catch his breath as he leaned his forehead against mine.
“Why?” I breathed, still stuck in my lust haze.
“Cause if we don’t, I’m going to take you here right in the middle of this garden. And that’s not the way I want our first time to go.”
“You’ve thought about our first time?”
“Jesus, Clare. I think it’s been the number one thing on my mind since the moment I walked into that exam room. It’s a wonder I can even function at work,” he admitted.
I giggled, my body shaking slightly which caused him to wince.
“Okay, you on top of me? Not helping my resolve. I’m starting to reconsider,” he groaned as his eyes roamed up and down my body.
“Fuck,” he cursed and promptly picked me up at the waist, sitting me down next to him.
I giggled again. I really shouldn’t have, but I did find it kind of humorous.
Call me crazy.
“So, our first time, what’s it like in your head?” I questioned him.
“You want me to describe it, Clare? I’m not sure how that’s going to help my current situation.”
Distracting himself, Logan picked up a bunch of grapes and began popping them into his mouth, one at a time. I mimicked him, taking my own bunch of grapes from the giant basket in front of us. Apparently we both need a bit of a distraction.
“Well, yeah, if I play a starring role, I’d like to know about it. And what makes you think there will be a first time?” I teased.
“Woman, you’re trying to kill me, and really? After that? I’m quite positive we’d be in the middle of our first time right now if I hadn’t put the brakes on,” he boasted, giving me a cocky stare which caused me to blush. Saving me any further embarrassment, he continued, “I don’t have an entire scene planned out or anything, but I am a guy. I can’t help but imagine you spread out, like a feast before me, allowing me to take you in every way imaginable.”
Oh God. Can’t breathe.
“Look. I haven’t had the best track record since my divorce. I’ve been labeled a lot of things, and for the most part I’ve earned them all,” he admitted, his voice full of regret.
“I want a clean slate with you, Clare. You’re special to me. I don’t know what we’re doing or where it’s going but I’ve never felt anything like this, and I can’t mess that up by doing the same shit I’ve always done.”
I was speechless. I don’t think I had ever been so turned on from a man telling me why he didn’t want to have sex with me before. Forgetting myself, I leaned over again and kissed him, pulling his body to mine. He came willingly, and we ended up right where we were minutes ago, devouring each other with fiery frenzy. In our fervor, he pushed me down to the blanket, and I felt his hard body on top of mine. His hands slid up my leg and slipped under my dress to grab my ass. He groaned in surprise when his hands touch nothing but fleshy backside thanks to the thong Leah talked me into. God, his groan was sexy.
“Dammit Clare, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he whispered, scattering kisses down my neck and shoulder.
He sighed, his eyes taking one last lingering glance at my body before saying, “We need to get back to the house before I say fuck it and just fuck you.”
Damn.
~Logan~
Somehow we made it back to the house. I couldn’t remember the actual trip and I think I may have cried or at least whimpered a little along the way.
I might not survive Clare. She was truly my ultimate temptation. I never wanted anything more and yet fought so hard against it. But I knew I needed this. I knew she needed this. I had to start this off right. She deserved it, she deserved everything.
I had planned this quiet date so we could get to know each other more. Our phone calls and texting had done a fairly good job so far, but I was selfish and wanted her to myself for the entire day.
This, however, was not how I envisioned the day going. Not that I was complaining.
No, definitely not complaining.
But Christ, she was a widow. She hadn’t touched a man in over three years. I had planned on being careful, conservative and sensitive. What I had not planned on was her kissing me, followed by us nearly ripping each other’s clothes off in the middle of an old woman’s garden.
Clare was quick with words and comebacks and we h
ad a great time joking with each other. But while she was bold with words, she was timid with physical contact, blushing at the mere mention of something dirty. I understood that considering her circumstances. Her husband had died and in the last three years she had been a mother only. I think some part of her had forgotten how to touch a man, and in a way, made her innocent again. As happy as I was to be the man to show her again, I understood I had to go slow. What I hadn’t counted on was her gaining the courage to make a move so bold, so soon. When she leaned over on her hands and knees and kissed me under that giant dogwood in the garden, I lost myself.
“What are you smiling about?” Clare asked as we approached the front door to the house.
“Mmm...Not telling,” I teased.
“Well, that’s not fair,” she pouted, folding her hands over her chest in mock indifference.
I stopped just inside the beautiful white house and turned, looking into those piercing green eyes of hers.
“You. I’m smiling because of you. You’ve taught me to smile again.” I didn’t think I would ever have anything to smile about again. Now, I just had to make sure I didn’t fuck it up and lose her.
She looked at me, stunned. Shit, did I go too far? Say too much, too soon?
“Thank you,” she whispered, gently rising on her toes to kiss me.
“No, thank you.”
The house tour Ms. Thompson gave us was outstanding and I loved seeing Clare so animated and full of life as she asked questions and made discoveries in each new room. Built before the Civil War, the house had quite an extensive history, and Ms. Thompson, a direct descendant of the original owners, knew it all. With each new room she had a new story to share including stories about her own family which included four children and twelve grandchildren.
I glanced over at Clare, who was currently looking out the window in the ornately decorated dining room, which showcased much of the gardens we’d been in earlier. I wondered if she was remembering our picnic because I know I certainly was. She looked over her shoulder at me and blushed, quickly looking away. I guess that answered my question.
