More, Please (17 page)

“Shhh,” he murmurs as one hand moves to
my chest, cupping a breast and squeezing a nipple just to the point it almost
hurts, but not quite. His mouth plunders my neck, sucking on me, grazing his
teeth against me, and then his tongue forges a path down my shoulder.

He reaches to pop the plug from the drain,
still letting the fresh, hot bathwater flow from the faucet. “Rinse cycle,” he
says, and I feel him smiling against the skin of my upper back as he kisses me.

Between my legs his fingers play with me
again, making all my muscles as taut as a violin’s strings. He circles my clit,
and then lightly traces the outline of the folds that are still tender from his
entry. Reaching my center again, I moan, low and desperate. “Oh, Logan.”

“That’s right, baby. Feel it.”

The fresh, hot water that is making my
skin sizzle is nothing compared to the heat I feel in my veins as my core
seizes up. I feel the blood flow pooling at my center, throbbing, aching.

“Let go,” he urges me, as my pelvis
arches against his hand.

“Inside me,” I beg. “I need you inside
me.”

“Not now, baby. Later,” he tells me and I
pray it’s a promise he’ll keep.

He circles and circles the hard nub of my
sex, dipping down to caress the tender folds just before I’m about to come.
It’s like he’s teasing me, prolonging the orgasm till I split into two. “No,
no,” I beg him as his finger moves away again, at that moment when my climax is
just within reach.

“Don’t rush it. Enjoy it.”

Enjoy it? I’m dying inside, a heady,
agonizing, completely thrilling death. His other hand massages me, moving from
one breast to the other as my hips continue to press forward, aching for a
firmer touch.

“Please, Logan. Please,” I don’t even
realize I’m shouting till I hear a slight echo of my voice against the tiled
walls.

“Now, baby,” he says, bringing his finger
back up to my clit, and squeezing it gently as he circles it. I cry out, loud,
the air expelling from my lungs, my body vibrating, encircled in his hold. I
thrust against his palm, throwing my head back against his shoulder and
pressing my chest toward his other hand. I pulse against him, throbbing like a
heartbeat, over and over till the waves finally slow and I’m able to breath
again.

No, this is nothing like anything I’ve
ever experienced in my life.

And I might die without it.

- LOGAN -

I walk back down the stairs to the living
room and gaze at the mass of fur slumbering on my couch. Kosmo is out like a
light, the pain killers obviously doing the trick. Standing in the middle of
the room, I gaze up the staircase to where I left Allie to get dressed.

It hadn’t felt right leaving her side,
but I really did want to check on Kosmo. And catch my breath. I really need to
catch my breath.

I sit down beside Kosmo and lightly touch
his fur. I don’t want to wake him, but somehow I need a little reassurance.

I was her second lover? That terrifies me.
Makes me feel like I should have listened to my instincts where she was
concerned. Stayed away. Far, far away.

But it also makes me glad as hell that I didn’t
sleep with her that night in the hotel. I saw tears in her eyes after we had
sex. I can’t imagine how a one-night-stand would have torn her apart.

I rise from the sofa and head to the
kitchen, seeing the photograph of Torres’s son on the counter. It doesn’t
cripple me now like it did before. The shock of looking at him, seeing his
dad’s eyes staring back at me, had dragged out the demons in my soul.

And unleashed them on Allie.
Oh, God,
what have I done?

Fuck that. What’s done is done. But what
do I do now?

I hear the stairs creak behind me, and when
I look at her, it’s like all the answers come flooding to my senses. I’ve never
considered myself an overly emotional guy. But somehow when I’m with her, I
feel warmth in a part of me I had thought was long dead.

I love my family, and they held in their
grasp the small part of my heart that still insisted on beating in my chest. The
rest I thought was necrotic—dead tissue that would never be resuscitated.

As Allie moves closer to me, that’s the part
of me that comes alive.

She glances down at the photo that I must
have picked up at some point. I don’t recall.

“He’s a handsome kid,” she says.

I nod.

“Have you ever met him?”

I nod again, and take a few moments
before I answer. “A couple times. I visited him with my SEAL brothers from the
Team shortly after we returned from the mission. And we were at the funeral.” I
shake my head slowly, remembering. “You’ve never seen anything till you’ve seen
a military funeral when it involves kids, Allie. It brings pain to a whole new
level. His son, Lucas, was fifteen when it happened, young enough to not really
be consoled by that flag we drape on a casket as though that’s supposed to take
away some of the pain.”

“It doesn’t?” Her question doesn’t seem
like a question. More like something she’s just saying to keep me talking.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Did Crosby have kids?”

I shake my head. “Single. His parents and
sister were at the funeral and a legion of family.” I crack a smile. “Funny,
meeting all of them after I’ve listened to Crosby talking shit about them for two
years. I wished I could have told him that he was right—his Aunt Lois really
does smell like mothballs and his Uncle Lou has interminable gas.” I laugh, and
it somehow eases the pain to bring up a good memory.

I slip the photo and the card back into
the envelope. “My SEAL brothers and I promised ourselves we’d keep tabs on Torres’s
kid as time went on. I’ve failed at that.”

Even though I’m not looking at her, I can
feel her eyes on me.

She takes my hand. “Is that why you’ve
stayed away?”

“Hmm?”

“From San Diego. You said yourself that
your family is doing well without you. So why did you decide to stay here if
you still call San Diego home?”

My eyes meet hers and I realize I can’t
hold anything from her. She seems to have found the pathway to all my secrets,
to my very soul, if I have one. “Yeah. I’m a coward.”

“You’re not a coward.”

“Hell, yeah, I am. A band of terrorists
could burst through that door and my heart rate wouldn’t even speed up, but I
can’t find the balls to just look at this kid in the eyes knowing what my
choice cost him and his mom.” I pause, pressing my palms to the cool granite.
“I send checks on the holidays and birthdays, though, if that counts for
anything.”

She smiles. “It probably counts for a
lot.” She takes the announcement from me. “Was that your last mission with the
SEALs?”

“Second to last. My last one got me the
Silver Star.” There’s bitterness in my tone and I don’t hide it. “Torres should
have gotten that. He should have been with us.” I shake my head, freeing myself
from the clutches of memory, and stalk toward the fridge. “Are you hungry? I’d
like to think I made you work up an appetite.”

She shakes her head. “I really should
check on my dogs next door. Cass dog-sat last night, but I’m not sure what time
she left for work this morning.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

We step into the sunshine and I realize I
don’t even know what time it is. I didn’t think to put my watch back on after
the bath. I feel a rumbling in my stomach that tells me it’s past lunch, though
it could be later than that.

Slipping her key into her lock, she turns
to me. “You don’t have to… stick around, you know. I’m sure you have work to
do.”

“I don’t have anything more important
than you right now.”

Her eyes sparkle at my remark and I see
her shoulders lift and fall in a sigh. I know she’s feeling uneasy about this,
and it’s the last thing I want. I don’t know where this is going, but I can’t
ignore that everything has changed between us.

“My family is having their usual Sunday
dinner next week. Want to come?” I don’t want her to think that this was a
one-time-thing, and it’s the best way I can think of to show her.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.”

“I know it’s not necessary, but I’d like it
if you came. You already know Ryan, and Hannah would love to see you again.”

“Okay, thanks,” she answers. There’s a light
pink hue to her cheeks as she turns the knob and we step inside.

And we see her two friends sitting on her
futon drinking coffee, both with meaningful looks in their eyes.

“Helloooo,” Cass croons.

“Cass,” Allie gasps. “I thought you’d be
at work by now.”

She shrugs. “I called in sick. I don’t
get a chance to hang out in luxury without a drunken roommate passed out on my
couch very often. Thought I’d enjoy it while it lasted. Kim swung by on her way
to pick up Connor from pre-K.”

Kim’s eyes are like daggers on me. She
hates me, I can tell. I could sense it if I were twenty miles away from her. “Hey,”
she greets us, her voice an octave lower than it usually is.

“I didn’t see your cars,” Allie says.

“We parked along the side in case Logan
was still working on the pavers and needed the space.” A grin sweeps across her
face as she looks at me. “But I guess you’re probably too tired for that now,
huh?” Cass snorts as she raises her coffee cup to her mouth darting her eyes
from Allie to me to Allie and back to me again.

Shit. I really need to put more
insulation in these walls or something.

“Oh, no,” I hear Allie murmur next to me.

“Yeah. Funny. It was a peaceful morning
till the neighbors started up. All that screaming.” Shaking her head, Cass
raises her eyebrows at that last word, focusing her gaze on Allie.

Allie’s shoulders slump forward and she
looks at me, mortified. I can’t help laughing. There’s not much that embarrasses
me, and if these women think I can make Allie scream like that, then that’s
nothing for me to be ashamed of.

Allie sputters, “You didn’t—”

“Hear the show? Oh, yes, every minute of
it. And Kim here showed up in time for the second act.”

Cass cracks me up with her directness. I
like Allie’s friends. Even Kim, because there is something to be said for a
woman who can stare down a former Navy SEAL like she is now.

“I need some coffee,” Allie mutters, suddenly
eyeing the coffeemaker in the kitchen. She looks at me. “You want some?”

“No, I’ll just head back to my place and
keep an eye on Kosmo. Dinner tonight?”

She brightens at the suggestion. “’Kay.”

I lean in and kiss her chastely. I think
Cass would love to see a show from me right now, but Kim looks like she’s going
to pull out a .357 Magnum and blow me into the next life.

I watch Allie walk toward the kitchen and
give a nod to her friends. “Ladies.” I turn my back and hear someone rise from
the futon.

Kim opens the door for me and her eyes
meet mine, dark and fiery. “If you hurt her, I will dismember you.”

I try not to crack a smile, because the
threat just seems out of character from a woman who looks like your
stereotypical carpool mom. But she seems dead serious.

Still waters run deep.

“Understood,” I acknowledge, giving her a
nod.

~ ALLIE ~

Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep.

One eye flings open and then the other.

I haven’t needed my alarm to wake up
since I bought it, so I’m surprised to hear what it sounds like. The
high-pitched beeping is annoying, but effective, considering I’m reaching
toward my clock now to turn it off even though every muscle in my body is
begging to stay completely still.

This must be the way triathletes feel the
morning after a competition, even though the only exercise I did was in bed
with Logan.

My entire body breaks out in a blush at
the recollection. I’ve never been so thoroughly and completely seduced by a man
in my life, and I’m definitely liking the sensation. My vibrator will be
collecting dust if this continues.

I figured it would be smart to sleep away
from him tonight. I have a conference call with Nancy this morning and she’s
in… shit, I have no idea where she is. Besides that, Logan’s plumbers are going
to show up at the crack of dawn to finish the plumbing in #4. I don’t want to
tiptoe out of Logan’s in his borrowed t-shirt and have them get the wrong idea.
No, wait. I guess they’d get the
right
idea, but it’s not one I want to
share.

I slip on my yoga pants and the bunny
slippers Kim got me for my birthday and step to the closet. It’s a walk-in
closet and my scant wardrobe looks a little lonely in it. If I were staying, I
might consider buying more clothes just to fill it up.

But I’m not staying. And this little
fling I’m having with Logan is just a fantasy that I’ll wake up from
eventually. That kills me because there’s no denying I’m falling for the guy. Completely,
utterly falling into a four-letter word that I don’t dare say out loud.

I slip on a blue washable silk shirt that
has seen one too many gentle cycles but looks okay through the small camera of
my iPhone. It’s incongruous with my yoga pants, but it’s my usual mismatched conference
call wardrobe. Business on top, bedtime on the bottom.

After letting the dogs out, I pour my
coffee, noticing the plumbing trucks out front through the window. I squint my
eyes to see if Logan is walking around outside with them. I’m hungry for the
sight of him, and it’s only been eight hours since I left his townhome in the
dark of night. My heart does a little flip when I catch a glimpse of him
climbing into his truck. I don’t know where he’s headed, but I’m wishing I was
with him.

I lean against the counter, recalling our
weekend together, each memory making me feel more vulnerable. We drove around
the countryside with the top down, and even ventured into Dayton to pick up a
couple pounds of Esther Price. (Because if I’m going to watch my waistline expand,
I’ll do it eating the sea salt caramels that I’m certain are paving the streets
of heaven.) And at night, he had me wrapped up in so many positions, I was
certain I’d end up in the ER. But there must be some special hormone excreted
during sex that makes the body a lot more bendable.

We walked around town and he told me all
of his stories of growing up here. So many of the memories he has here remind
me of the stories my dad used to share with me.

He knows a lot about this town for
someone who was so anxious to leave it when he became an officer in the Navy. And
even though it breaks my heart, I know that he’ll leave again. Every time he
looks at our little creek, I know he’s envisioning deeper water, the kind he’d
be looking at every day in San Diego.

He’ll only be mine for a while. But I’m
determined to enjoy it.

I pull open my laptop and look at Nancy’s
schedule. Cincinnati, I notice. So she’s actually home this week, which means
she’ll be keeping me busy. When she’s not travelling, she’s trying to get more
reasons to travel.

My phone chirps and I switch on Skype.
“Hi, Nancy! How was your weekend?”

And so begins every conference call I’ve
ever had with Nancy. Ten minutes chatting about personal stuff (I avoid the topic
of Logan because if she got a whiff of what happened, I’d be on the phone an
extra hour) and thirty minutes for business.

I make my calls and edit some letters and
a speech for Nancy for the next several hours before I think to check my party
schedule for the week. Frowning, I see I have three bookings. Good for the bank
account, but bad for my sex life which, now that I actually
have
a sex
life, cuts like a knife.

I’m not sure how I’ll manage to sit
through hours of talking about vibrators when I could be having sex with a
real, live man. It’s not a position I’ve been in before.

Like so many positions I’ve found myself
in this weekend
, I recall,
cracking a smile.

After showering and changing around
lunchtime, I glance out the window again, looking for Logan’s truck. He’s still
MIA, and I’m going into withdrawal.

I start back up on Nancy’s speech until
my heart leaps when I hear Logan’s truck door slam outside. I don’t know how I
know it’s his. All truck doors make the same sound when they slam, and there
are plenty parked in front of his townhomes this morning. But call me crazy,
when he slams a door, it just sounds sexier.

Glancing in the bathroom mirror to make
sure I don’t have something stuck in between my teeth or dangling from my nose,
I head over to the door prepared to fake an interest in how much progress they’re
making in #4. I don’t care if he sees through it. I just need to get an ounce
of his presence before I can finish off my workday.

It’s hot outside, hinting of summer. Mother
Nature seems to be giving us a tease this time around because the air is thick
with humidity and the temperature has me longing to step back into the AC.

He’s already in the townhome by the time
I’m outside and since there’s too much activity in there to hear my knock at
the door, I enter #4 anyway. The workers don’t even acknowledge me. They seem
so consumed by their work. But Logan smiles broadly when he sees me, and it
fills every nook and cranny of my heart.

“Morning,” he says.

“Afternoon,” I correct him.

He glances at his watch and his eyebrows rise.
“You’re right. I haven’t eaten lunch yet. Been busy. How about you? Hungry?”

“I had a bagel late in the morning. But I
could use something.”

“How about we head into town and grab
something?”

“It’s a deal.”

Touching the small of my back, he guides
me out of the townhome.

He walks in between his truck and a
brand-new SUV that must belong to one of the workers. It’s shiny and
unblemished, such a contrast to most of the pickups squeezed into Logan’s
parking area this morning.

“Something caught your eye?” he asks,
noting my double-take at the car.

“No. I mean, kind of. It’s a nice new
car, and I bet the owner will get pissed when it gets its first scratch on some
job site, you know?”

He shrugs. “The owner doesn’t really hang
around too many job sites.”

“Oh, I figured it was one of the
plumbers.”

“Nope. Do you like it?”

I keep heading to his truck and toss him
a look over my shoulder. “Well, sure, if you like fancy, shiny, and spacious.
But you have to admit, my car has a lot more character.”

He takes me by the hand and leads me back
to the SUV. “Yeah, maybe. But I was thinking this is really the kind of car you
need.” He swings open the back door. “You could load your dogs in and out of
here a lot easier.” He shuts the door and moves to the back hatch.

“Logan, I really don’t think you should
help yourself to someone’s car like this,” I scold, glancing toward the
townhome.

“The owner won’t mind a bit. Check it
out.” He opens the back. “You could fit at least four small kennels in here,
don’t you think? Most spacious SUV I’ve seen, but it’s not too bad on mileage
because it’s a hybrid. It’s got all the safety features, too. Back up camera. Side
view camera…”

He drones on with the list of features of
this car and I have to admit, I’m getting slightly annoyed. I know my car is
approaching its death bed, but it’s going to have to do for a while.

“Logan, it’s lovely. It’s also the kind
of car that’s way out of my reach for the next ten years or so.” It’s hard to
blame him for all the enthusiasm he’s showing. Guys like to look at cars, so I
forgive him.

“But do you like it?”

“Sure, I do. It’s great. But I’m hungry.
Let’s get lunch.”

“Okay. Mind if we take your car?”

My face droops. My car smells like dog
and it will take an hour to clear the foothills of fur off the passenger seat. “I
guess.”

“Great. Here.” He hands me something that
looks like a car door opener.

“What’s this?” I stare at it in my hand.

“Keyless ignition,” he states
matter-of-factly.

I shake my head, wondering if there is
some hotline I should call to report that a former SEAL has completely lost his
mind. “This isn’t mine, Logan.”

“Yes, it is. It’s the keys to your new
SUV.”

My world shimmies slightly to the right
and then to the left. The hammering noises coming from the townhouse seem
softer, almost dreamlike. “What?” Is this his idea of a joke, or am I just
dreaming? Because those are definitely the only two possibilities I can think
of right now.

“I bought you a new car.”

“Excuse me?”

“You need a new car, Allie.”

Yes, and I need a lot of things I go
without. But that’s what you do when you’re in your early 20s and didn’t have
the foresight to major in Computer Science.

“You can’t give me a car,” I say.

“Of course I can. I’m donating it to your
nonprofit. That way you can’t complain about how I didn’t ask you first.”

Vertigo touches my brain and I stagger
slightly, which has Logan reaching out for my arm—his gentle touch the
only proof I have that I’m not in a dream.

“You bought me a car?”

“I bought you a car.”

I look at him. “You can’t afford to buy
me a car,” I tell him. For Pete’s sake, he’s been fixing up five townhomes with
his own bare hands these past months. Is he nuts? I mean, it’s the sweetest
gesture anyone has ever done in the history of the world,
but is he nuts?

“I can afford to buy you a car, Allie.”
He looks a little frustrated. He’s shaking his head, but it seems he’s shaking
it more at himself than at me. “Hop in. I’ll drive since you seem a little
lightheaded.”

Lightheaded doesn’t even cover half of
the emotions that I’m feeling right now. I feel like I’m taking advantage of
the nicest guy on the face of the earth. Does he feel like he needs to buy me
this because he’s sleeping with me? My last boyfriend bought me a new hairdryer
for Christmas and I had been with him for a year. That’s really more what a
girl like me is used to.

I’m terrified that he might be feeling
remorse for what he shared with me this last weekend. I broke him
down—all that talk about Torres and the war. I made him vulnerable and
now he’s having some kind of reaction to all that sharing.

I climb in and feel the leather seats
against the skin of my thighs. Leather interior for dogs? Glancing behind me, I
notice the factory-made seat covers in the back. Holy crap. He thought of
everything.

“It’s got heated seats, too, for the
winter,” another fact he throws at me to compound my guilt.

“Logan, you are so kind. I mean, you are
so, so, so kind. But we have to get this back to the dealer right now. I can’t
let you buy me this. You’ve got five townhomes you just bought. And you just
bought yourself a car. The payments alone on your new truck are probably more
than my mortgage payments on my old condo.”

He flicks on the turn signal, heading
away from town, and I’m not sure where we’re going. Back to the dealer, I’m
hoping.

“I paid cash for my truck, Allie.”

My brain tries to wrap itself around the
idea of paying cash for anything these days.

“I paid cash for your car, too,” he adds,
turning onto the road adjacent to the highway, and driving quietly for a few
minutes. His lips press together suddenly as he watches the road. “Listen,
there’s something I should probably tell you. I kind of assumed you had figured
this out on your own. People around here usually do. But I guess, being gone as
long as I was, I kind of fly below the gossip radar in Newton’s Creek.”

Oh, shit. He’s married or something like
that. Or some other huge skeleton is lurking in his closet, and this is a guilt
gift. My heart is picking up speed right now and my hand slips to the armrest
to give myself something to grip onto.

Damn, this leather feels soft.

He pulls to the curb of a long industrial
road that leads to a massive building springing up from the surrounding
farmland like Oz at the end of the yellow brick road.