Wicked Ride (23 page)

She pulls back slightly and
cranes her neck to look at me with wide eyes, wanting to believe that
what she just did…
what she just let Bridger do to her… did not change my desire
for her. Can’t say as it was entirely easy watching another man
touch what I’m inappropriately starting to think of as solely
mine, but I was more turned on than turned off. Of course, that’s
because I trust Bridger, and I’m not sure I’d feel that
with another man involved.

Maybe Rand.

Possibly Cain.

But that’s
about it.

I nod at her and whisper,
“Totally hot.”

She gives me a small smile. We
turn to Bridger when we hear him rustle some papers on his desk. He
pushes aside a stack of documents and pulls his laptop nearer to him,
opening it up and turning it on. While it boots up, he says, “I
talked to a friend of mine in New York who practices law there.
Name’s Cal Carson and while he does mostly civil law, he knows
someone at the U.S. Attorney’s office.”

My hand drops from Auralie and I
step toward his desk, eager to hear where this is going.

Bridger continues. “While
I didn’t have much in the way of details to pass on to Cal,
what little bit I told him about Magnus was enough for him to believe
this attorney would be interested in talking to Auralie’s dad.
Most likely give him immunity in exchange for spilling his guts on
everything he knows about Magnus.”

A jolt of pure excitement runs
through me as I hadn’t
considered the possibility of legal means to get Auralie out of this
mess. Here I was contemplating reverse cons and murder. “That’s
excellent—”

“You told him about Magnus
and me?” I hear Auralie ask from behind me, and there’s
no mistaking the astonished fury in her words despite the softness of
her tone.

I turn to look at her, stiffen my
spine, and brace for more fury. “Well,
yeah. I asked him for his advice… see if there was a way he
figured we could shut this shit down with Magnus.”

Auralie strides up to me, her
fists clenched in anger. She gets right up in my face—has to
stand up on tiptoes to do so—and snarls. “I
did not ask for you to get involved in this. In fact, I told you the
truth about what was going on with the assumption that you would keep
that shit secret. It was a confidence I told you, and you went and
fucking betrayed that.”

I’m
taken aback by the venom dripping from her words, but I wave it off.
“Auralie… you knew there was no way in hell I was going
to let you go through with this.”

“Why?” she snarls.
“Because it’s illegal? Because it scams someone who won’t
miss the fucking money?”

“No,” I yell back at
her, leaning down closer to her face. “Because I did not want
those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around someone else’s
cock.”

“Oh,” she says
sarcastically. “But it’s okay for your buddy there to
whip and finger me to orgasm?”

“I didn’t see you
complaining,” I bite out, feeling the need to put her on the
defensive.

Gasping, she steps back from me
as if I’d slapped
her in the face. She glares at me for a moment, and then turns her
gaze slowly to Bridger. “I appreciate your help, but I’m
going to decline.”

I open my mouth to argue with her
because this is the perfect fucking solution as it frees her and her
dad, and hopefully sends Magnus to prison. But then she spins back on
me and says in a very quiet voice that still packs a sonic punch, “I
would like you to take me back to my house.”

Turning around, she walks stiffly
to the door and exits, pulling it quietly shut behind her. This also
packs a punch. I’d
have much rather seen her slam it because that would indicate she’s
pissed and wanting to at least fight about it. Instead, it seemed
like a final closing of the door on “us”.

I turn back to look at Bridger.
He gives me an empathetic look that says,
Sorry,
man.

Sighing, I turn toward his office
door, figuring out how to do damage control on a situation that is
completely outside of my control.

Auralie

The ride back to the cabin is
tense and silent. Tense because this jackass is ruining everything
and putting my father in danger, and silent because the minute we got
in Logan’s truck and
he said, “Auralie… I didn’t mean—”

And I snapped at him, “Shut
the fuck up and leave me alone.”

When he pulls into the short
driveway, I snatch my purse and bolt out of the passenger door. I
sort of assumed he got the hint and wouldn’t
follow me, but I hear him getting out and his door slamming just
after mine.

“Go away, Logan,” I
mutter over my shoulder as I stomp up the porch steps and dig the
front door key out of my purse.

“Not going to happen,”
he mutters back, close on my heels.

I slam the key in the lock, twist
it viciously, and throw the door open, all while sneering at him,
“Let me guess. That
little job your buddy did on me at The Silo got you all worked up,
right? Want to fuck me, don’t you?”

Logan snatches me by the upper
arm. I anticipate he’ll
spin me around to face him, but instead, he pushes me through the
doorway and marches me right into the living room while growling at
me, “You’re goddamn right I want to fuck you.”

I want to scream at him in
frustration that he thinks so little of my anger and all he wants to
do is use my body, but that need to scream wars with the insatiable
need I have for him to fuck me. While I’ll
never admit it to him, what Bridger did to me in that club while
Logan watched with hot, needy eyes has my panties still soaked
despite how mad I am at him.

“Then do it,” I hiss
at him.

He makes a frustrated sound deep
in his chest, but he walks me right around the back of the couch
that’s positioned to
separate the living area from the kitchen. “Fine. I was going
to talk this shit out, but if you want fucked, I’ll fuck you.
Never going to turn my nose up at that sweet pussy.”

“You asshole,” I
seethe at him even as my core clenches. It clenches even harder when
he pushes me right over the back of the couch so I’m bent at my
pelvis with my ass is in the air.

Two seconds later, his palm is
cracking down on my jean-clad ass. He mutters, “Ungrateful
little snot.”

“Arrogant bast—”

His hand smacks my ass again, and
my traitorous body moans in response.

“That’s right,”
Logan whispers in a voice filled with lustful excitement as his hands
rip my jeans and underwear over my hips and down my legs until
they’re bunched tight at my ankles. His hand descends again on
my bare cheeks, causing me to jerk and moan and my hands to press
down hard into the couch cushions for stability and leverage.

I brace, waiting for him to spank
me again, but then his face is pressed into my ass and his tongue
licking at my pussy from behind as his fingers pull my cheeks apart.

“Oh, Logan,” I murmur
in abandon, all thoughts of anger and fight going out of me.

His mouth leaves me and two
fingers press inside. “You’re
drenched, Auralie. Is that from what Bridger did to you?”

“No,” I moan as his
fingers move in and out.

“From us fighting? Want a
hard hate-fuck?” he taunts.

“No,” I rasp out,
shaking my head vehemently. “Not hate.”

“Just a hard fuck, then?”
he murmurs as he pulls his fingers out of me and slides them up the
seam of my ass, causing a full-body shudder. “I can certainly
give that to you.”

“Logan—”

“Shhh, Auralie,” his
voice whispers across the back of my neck as he stands to bend over
me. He presses the length of his cock against my butt and grinds a
little. “Gonna fuck you and then we’ll fight, okay?”

I nod frantically, because I
really, really need him inside of me. I’ve
been carrying that low burn of lust inside of me since Bridger made
me come on that St. Andrew’s cross.

I expect him to pull back, free
his cock, and plunge into me from behind, but that’s
just silly, because Logan never does the expected. Instead, he grasps
my legs and flips me over the couch, where I twist and land on my
back. I come up on my elbows and watch as he prowls around toward me,
his hands working deftly at his belt and zipper, pushing his jeans
down enough to free himself.

He’s
thick and hard, the silky skin of his cock angry red, which is
fitting… seeing as how he’s angry at me still. I can
tell by the way his eyes sizzle with the promise of some type of
retribution for me having the temerity to be mad at him. Just the
thought causes my blood to race through my veins and my breath to
hitch.

Logan pulls my legs into the air
to make room on the couch. He kneels before me. If I didn’t
have my ankles encumbered, I’d gladly spread my legs and wrap
them around his waist.

But he has other plans.

Plans that don’t
include taking the time to strip me naked.

Instead, he pulls my legs up a
bit higher and leverages my calves onto his left shoulder, causing my
hips to twist toward the back of the couch. He holds my legs in place
with his left arm wrapped securely around them. With a dip of his own
hips, he uses his other hand to help guide his cock to me.

Not sure how he’s
going to do this as my legs are pressed tight to each other, but
then… he’s working the head of his cock into my barely
accessible pussy. He pushes and grunts and twists his hips this way
and that, shoving his way past the resistance of my outer lips until
he reaches the wet just inside.

The thick head breaches me a few
inches before he pulls back, twists his hips again, and punches in
and up. He sinks halfway in and mutters, “Christ…
that’s tight.”

And God…
yes, that’s so tight and I feel so full.

Ignoring the fact my legs are
starting to tingle, and with no way to reach out to hold onto Logan
in this position, I let my fingertips clutch onto the
chenille-covered cushions as he withdraws again to the very tip. With
a mighty heave, he sinks all the way into me. I know it feels good
because his eyes squeeze shut and air blows so hard out of his mouth,
it flutters all the way down over my face.

Logan reaches under my ass, lifts
me up, and twists me more to the side so I’m
laying half on my side, my body spiraled. He then leans over me,
causing me to jackknife. My lungs compress and I can barely breathe,
but then Logan starts pistoning in and out of me, the angle and lack
of spread to my pussy causing him to grunt with every thrust.

And oh…
just… oh, wow.

This feels good.

So damned good.

I suck in small pockets of air
each time he pulls out, expelling the same in harsh pants when he
punches back in. I’m
so wet. The glide is easy and effortless, but it doesn’t stop
him from giving me the hard fuck he offered and I accepted.

Logan pounds me into the couch,
his face etched with pleasure and his eyes darkened to a bronzed
mocha. He only ups the sex appeal when he pulls his full bottom lip
between his teeth and bites down on it, a clear indication that he’s
trying to control himself, but I hate to tell this man… it’s
a losing proposition.

“More,” I whisper on
a forced exhalation.

“Fuck me,” he
mutters. “My girl wants more.”

So he gives me more, fucking me
exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of us has ever had it this
good.

From out of nowhere, my orgasm
starts to build before curling inward for one brief, agonizing moment
and then exploding so swiftly it leaves my scream far behind by
virtue of the sheer force of the pleasure.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes
out. I want to tell Logan I’m
coming, but really… I don’t need to. He can feel me
spasming all around his cock, and I know this because he whispers,
“Fuck yeah… my girl comes hard when I’m deep
inside her.”

I whimper from his words alone,
because he said “my
girl” twice in the last twenty seconds.

Am I?

His girl?

I’m
not sure how I can be anything when he’s thrown my entire life
into disarray, but I can’t think about that now. The way he
continues to tunnel in and out of me is beyond distracting, and all
thoughts completely abandon me when Logan slams deep, holds himself
planted, and then shudders hard as he releases inside of me. I
carefully study his face, the way his cheek is pressed up against the
outside of my leg, still resting on his shoulder and secured to my
other leg by virtue of my jeans.

Logan closes his eyes…
groans… grinds against my ass and then groans again.

I want him to tell me how good
that feels and how much I mean to him
then I want some explanation as to why he went behind my back to
Bridger and outted me. Instead, when I sense he’s empty, he
opens his eyes and pins me with a hard look. Any sweet words of
cherishment that might have been forthcoming during that moment of
bliss right after orgasm clearly not forthcoming.

Logan pulls out of me, and I feel
the rush of his semen running down the crack of my ass. He lets my
legs drop unceremoniously to the couch and rolls off, tucking his
half hard, glistening dick back into his jeans.

“Get dressed,” he
says curtly. “We need to figure out the best way to get your
dad to talk to this attorney Bridger’s friend suggested.”

He did not just say that to
me.

I sit up, swing my legs off the
couch, and pull my underwear and jeans up, wincing over the feel of
wetness that runs down the inside of my legs before being sopped up
by my pants. I give a hop, pulling my zipper up. As I’m
buttoning, I tell him, “Bite me, Logan. You do not dictate my
life.”

He looks at me warily. “I’m
not trying to dictate your life. I’m trying to help.”

“By betraying me?” I
ask incredulously. “Did it occur to you that you’ve just
put my dad in very real danger… getting other people
involved?”