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Authors: Samantha Hunter

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BOOK: Friction
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“Hold on.”

As she watched him disappear past the kitchen, she wondered what he was up to. He returned a few minutes later holding a small, green aerosol can.

“Heavy-duty stuff. It smells, and you should shower it off so it’s not on your skin all night, but it’ll do the job for now.”

Sarah grinned and held out her arms. “Do me.”

No sooner were the words spoken than she felt the clog in her throat, and he slanted her a roguish smile, the tension in his face easing as he pointed the can at her.

“Your wish is my pleasure.”

Sarah closed her eyes as he covered her lightly with spray and wrinkled her nose as the strong scent surrounded them and she felt the cool aerosol on her skin. He did both legs and then moved up her torso and by the time he got to her arms, she was tingling all over. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but…

“Hold out your hands.”

She opened her eyes. “Why?”

“You can rub it on your neck and over your hair without getting it on your face.”

She frowned, placing her hands palms up. “This is ridiculous. I feel like I’m going on safari, not for a beer.”

“Small price to pay. You should wash your hands before we go, too.”

She put her hand out for the can. “Your turn.”

“I can get myself.”

She shrugged. “It’s your skin, slick.”

She walked back and washed her hands quickly before rejoining him. The entire lobby smelled like bug
spray, but they were done and out the door, walking into the heavy, humid night air. Mosquitoes buzzed around them, disappointed and not biting. Sarah smiled.

“I’m glad you found that spray. I was going nuts in there.”

“Having a hard time settling into vacation?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Me, too. It’s been a while.”

“I guess you have to ease into it. Vacation can be hard work.”

They continued the pleasant small talk as they walked the narrow town streets toward the main strip, where they found the bar was still open. There were a few people around, touring the street that looked out over the marinas and the harbor, and the Coast Guard station buzzed with activity just across the way.

The bar was small, quiet and bathed in golden light. Sarah was surprised to see a small band setting up in the corner. Live music—who would’ve thought? Small wooden tables were scattered everywhere, and Logan led her to one near a dusky corner, away from the band.

They gave the waitress their orders and faced each other quietly in the dim light. Strangers sitting together like old friends, waiting for a beer. It was intimate, uncomfortably so. Sarah shifted in her chair, looking at the handsome man who sat so close to her that their knees almost touched under the small table. She moved hers to the left, trying to discreetly avoid the contact, and smiled at the young waitress when she delivered two frosty beers to the table.

“So…”

“So…”

They spoke simultaneously, laughed together, and broke the strain somewhat. Logan lifted his beer to her, and she did the same before drinking.

“It’s a shame.”

“What’s that?” Tilting her beer back, she took a sip, letting the amber liquid slide down her throat. It was perfect.

“The two of us, apparently such workaholics that we can’t get into the vacation groove.” He smiled across the table, tipping his bottle toward her. “But I have to admit, things are looking up.”

Sarah smiled and took another swig, trying to decide how to respond. She didn’t want to invite anything inadvertently—or did she? No. She didn’t know him, didn’t know what kind of man he was. You could never trust the impressions people offered you.

Swallowing slowly, she met his gaze, and found nothing more than friendly interest there. She loosened up.

“I’ve never had an actual vacation, not since I was a kid. I guess I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Who do you work for? They don’t offer any vacation time?”

“Oh, no. They offer it, but I don’t take it.” She began to explain further and then changed her mind. For some reason, she didn’t want to talk with him about her job. “Let’s not talk about work. Maybe we can help each other get into this vacation groove.”

His eyes warmed and she watched as the rim of the
bottle was held poised before his straight, firm and slightly wet lips. Uh-oh.

“Fair enough. Let’s start over. No work, just play. Sound good?”

She nodded, oddly relieved.

“I wonder what kind of music they’re going to have.” He glanced toward the band, and then looked back to her.

“I just hope it’s not country. That really would be the last straw.”

As if by magic, two more beers appeared on the table, and Sarah realized she was feeling a little woozy. She had missed dinner, and the beer, which normally didn’t have more effect on her than a carbonated drink, was fuzzing her brain.

“I could use something to eat. Do they have a menu?”

A short time later, more beers were delivered, along with a stack of wings and loaded potato skins. Sarah gazed at the food adoringly and loaded up her plate.

“Ah, heaven.”

Logan watched her eat with a combination of admiration and humor, helping himself as well. Sarah seemed to have forgotten him altogether as she concentrated on the food, a slight flush coloring the fine skin of her cheekbones, a little bit of sauce from a wing clinging to her jaw. He reached over, swiping it away with his finger.

“I like a woman with healthy appetites.”

Heat sparked between them, and Logan didn’t know if it was the lateness of the hour, or the beer, or both. He didn’t care. Sarah was gorgeous, even stuffing her face with wings. He smiled when she sat back, sated.

“So, we can’t talk about work, but we can talk about other stuff. Get to know each other a little better.”

“Like what?” She frowned, wondering what he wanted to know, though in all honesty she was curious about him, too.

“Well…” He grinned in the direction of the band, definitely of the country-rock variety. “You apparently don’t like country music. What kind do you like?”

This was a safe enough topic. “I visit a lot of jazz clubs and alternative music spots in the city. Some punk, techno—that kind of thing. It’s where a lot of my friends hang out.” She decided to keep things in the present tense—she’d told him before she was from Brooklyn, and there wasn’t any reason to complicate things now. And she couldn’t explain her move without explaining her job. Depending on what was happening here, maybe it was best he believed she lived back up north.

“They’re musicians?”

“Some.”

“Techno, huh? Do you ever rave?” he asked with a smile and she smiled back.

“I’ve been once or twice. It’s a little too crazy for me, and I prefer to keep my mind and body clean. Drugs aren’t a requirement, of course, but they’re pretty prevalent in the clubs. Not my scene, really.”

“Me, either. But it sounds like an exciting life.”

“Not especially.” She smiled, thinking of the movie portrayals of hackers, all dressed in black with slick haircuts and shiny earrings, attending raves every night and talking the talk.

Some of that was true—there was a distinct “look” among her old set of friends—but the lifestyle wasn’t really all that glamorous or exciting. Sitting in front of a computer for hours—or days—on end wasn’t the stuff excitement was made of. Not unless you were into it.

“It’s just a life.” She took a swig of beer, looking at him over the top of the bottle. “So what about you?”

He shrugged. “I like most music, nothing in particular though. I go to outdoor concerts back home, but I have never really been to clubs or anything like that.” Except on raids, he thought quietly with a smile.

“Do you dance?”

“Sure, is that a hint?” His eyes sparkled and she almost retracted her question, but decided to let it stand. Why not?

“Well, this music is better than I thought—not the old ‘my-truck-broke-down-and-my-girlfriend-left-me-for-my-best-friend’ kind of thing. It has a beat.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” He smiled, standing as a new tune rocked the bar and more people crowded into the small joint. “Let’s go”

She looked hesitant for a moment, but took his hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor. When they got there she seemed stiff and a little uncomfortable, but after a few minutes, she transformed before his eyes.

Moving like a sinuous wisp of smoke, her long, lithe body caught the beat of the music as her eyes closed and her arms raised above her head, the movements accentuating the line of her breasts and turning his mouth dry. He could hardly move for watching her.

Reaching out, he placed his hands on her trim waist, pulling her in a little closer, settling them into a rhythm together. She smiled and looked at him through heavy eyes, lowering her hands to his shoulders as the rocking music changed to something slower. Following his instincts, he gathered her in more closely, inhaling the scent of her. His body hardened, pressing intimately into hers, and he waited for her response, loosened his grip so she could move away.

She didn’t.

“Want to get out of here?” he whispered close to her ear. The feeling of her moving against him was driving him out of his mind.

“What did you have in mind?” When her cheek grazed his as she drew back to look into his eyes, it actually made him shiver.

“A walk on the beach?”

She waited a beat, as if considering, and he held his breath until she answered.

“Sure. That sounds nice.”

4

T
HEY WALKED
slowly, hands clasped, not daring to speak lest the spell be broken. At least, that’s how Logan felt, his blood slightly buzzing with alcohol, dancing and desire, his body burning to know what hers felt like, tasted like, inside and out.

How long had it been since he’d felt like this with a woman? Had he ever? Maybe once, a long time ago.

Inspired by Sarah, alcohol and a sense of freedom he hadn’t enjoyed in a good long time, Logan felt for this one minute like he really was on vacation. It wasn’t that his larger purpose for being here was fading, but there wasn’t much he could do right now, and he was captivated by Sarah. They turned toward the beach and he set his concerns aside for a moment. Logan shut out everything but the light grip of her hand in his and the warm night air on his face. He didn’t want to think about the things that he’d been obsessing over for months, only about the beautiful woman at his side.

They stepped up over a concrete beach wall, hopping down on the other side and landing in soft, cool sand. He thought he heard her laugh softly, and glanced over
to see her head thrown back as she looked up at the stars, a whimsical smile on her face. She was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on, and his throat constricted.

“I wish I knew constellations. I can see shapes, but I don’t know what they are. Or if I’m even seeing the right ones.”

“Never took astronomy in school? I figured all kids learned the basics in science class.”

She shook her head, a shadow crossing her features.

“I was home-schooled, then sent to a private school. My parents were against the standard scientific curriculum used in the public school system. As an adult, it’s just not something I’ve pursued. Though maybe I will when I get back home.”

“Ah.” He paused, unsure how to respond. He didn’t want to offend her religious beliefs, but he never understood why people couldn’t be both devout and educated. His parents had had them all in church every Sunday, but it had never interfered with his broader education. They’d always encouraged him and his sister to know everything they could about the world, to have a thirsty mind.

After all, even the most religious people of ancient times knew how to use the stars for navigational purposes, if nothing else. Then again, Galileo had died while under permanent house arrest during the Inquisition after maintaining that the earth revolved around the sun, not the sun around the earth. Logan remained silent rather than voice his opinions—the night wasn’t
made for political arguments. But Sarah had already intuited his thoughts.

“It’s okay. My family and I don’t see eye to eye on…a lot of things anymore.”

“So you don’t share their religious beliefs?”

She shook her head, looking suddenly sad, and he didn’t press. Not just yet.

“Well, I can point out some of the constellations for you, if you want to know.”

Her face brightened again, and she smiled. It took his breath away.

“Please.” She poked her finger up into the air, indicating a pattern she saw. “Is that something?”

“Yes. Here, see. You’ll know this one.” He pulled her over in front of him, snuggling her close and grasping her extended arm by the wrist, helping her make a connection from one star to another until she inhaled sharply.

“The Big Dipper?”

Logan smiled, loving the soft warmth of her up against him and the surprised pleasure in her voice. His head was clearing from the beer, but his blood was still buzzing.

“Right. I knew you would know that one. Everyone has to have heard of it, if not seen it.”

“Show me another one.”

He lifted her hand again, and drew her arm down, then across, in the shape of a cross.

“The Southern Cross?” she guessed hesitantly, and he dissented.

“The Southern Cross can’t be seen from here. This
one is Cygnus, the Swan. But it is also known as the Northern Cross.”

“It looks like a cross, not a swan.”

He chuckled, inhaling the scent of her hair, the clean scent of her shampoo mixing headily with the ocean breeze.

“True. But see, the bird is in flight…this star is Deneb, Arabic for tail, as in the tail feathers of the bird. He’s diving through the sky…”

She stared, silent, and he risked the moment to bend his face into her neck, losing himself in the softness he found there. Her voice hitched a little, though she didn’t move away or discourage him.

“I guess I can see that.”

Logan lost all interest in the sky as he turned her to face him and made it clear he didn’t want to discuss stars any further as his lips found hers. They were alone on the beach, and it was dark all around them. Private.

There was no preliminary kissing, no get-to-know-you nibble, just hot, carnal plundering of each other’s mouths, and he felt his knees shake and his body go rock-hard all over. She was softer than he’d imagined, and she moved against him in an invitation he wanted to accept, that his body insisted he accept. Unable to stop kissing her, he slid his hand up under her tank top, massaging her breasts through the thin cotton bra she wore, and swallowed her deep moan.

He moved his hands down, tugging her shorts lower and then pulling them down to her feet as he sank to his knees, running his hands over her, memorizing her
shape and scent as he released her feet from her garments and nudged her thighs apart with kisses.

“More…let me in…”

She accommodated, though he sensed her hesitation, and he cupped her gently between her legs, investigating, reassuring. Her breath came quickly and she moved slightly against him. He looked up; her head had lolled to the side, her eyes closed, fists clenched. He smiled, dragging his tongue along the crease of hip and thigh where her skin had not been touched by the bug spray and felt her shudder, parting even farther for him.

She tasted like honey and salt, flowers and sex, and he groaned against her, wanting more. Widening her, he darted his tongue inward and was rewarded to feel her muscles jerk in a sharp response. He slid his tongue deeper, finding the sensitive nub of flesh he sought, a hot pearl hidden in between silky folds, and drew it between his lips, softly tugging.

“Oh…God….”

He pulled away just for a second. Her eyes were still closed, her face a study in mindless pleasure.

“Say my name, sweetheart, Sarah. Say my name when I make you come….”

His mouth was back on her, nibbling, nipping, sucking until her head spun, and she managed to whisper his name, wanting what he was giving her, needing it on a profound level that she could barely understand. She buried her hands in his hair and pulled him closer, focusing on the pleasure he was giving her as the shadows crowded around her.

She struggled. The usual demons danced around the edge of her pleasure-saturated brain, disappearing for a moment when she felt him slide one finger deep inside her, then two…. She could do it, she could enjoy him making love to her, set her thoughts aside and just feel what he was doing….

But her conscious mind reasserted itself and she opened her eyes, looked down…she tried to concentrate only on the pleasure as he knelt before her, but the deadening chill started in her chest, worked its way out as images flooded her brain, and what she saw invaded what she felt.

“Stop…Logan, ah, please…stop….”

He did, immediately, looking up in concern. He stood, his breath ragged, and she could feel the heat from his body emanating toward hers. This was so unfair. For both of them. She shouldn’t have let this happen.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He reached to touch her, but stopped, unsure.

“No, no…” God, how could she explain this without seeming to be the worst kind of tease? She didn’t want to tell him the truth, and grasped at some kind of rational explanation. “I just…couldn’t.”

She couldn’t see his expression clearly enough to know what he was thinking, but she felt relief course though her when he backed off, bending to grab her clothes from the sand, shaking out her shorts and handing them to her. She slipped them on quickly, feeling awkward and miserable.

“I’m sorry, I—”

He tipped her chin toward him, and she made out a
smile. “No apologies, honey. This can only be good if it’s good for both of us, and there’s time.”

Sarah sagged, feeling both relieved and saddened. He didn’t understand that there might never be a good time for this. Not for her. Her mind was poisoned against it, even as her body pleaded for his touch.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the sand beside him.

“C’mon, sit down.”

“I’d better get going.”

He paused, clearly unsure what to make of her response.

“Just sit for a moment.”

She did, and he blew out a breath, looking out over the darkness of the Bay. “Can you tell me what happened?”

She searched for words, and didn’t really find any.

“I just lost it, you know, it happens, maybe too much beer—”

Logan wasn’t buying such a half-assed explanation, and it was his nature to talk about things plainly. “I’m not an expert, but I know enough to know you were close to coming, and something happened to pull you back. If not me, not something I did, then what?” His tone was rich with patience and warmth. She felt like an idiot. “You can tell me, Sarah. I wish you would, in fact. I don’t like thinking I did something to chill you like that.”

“Really, it wasn’t you. Promise. I—I…it’s nothing. Just a thing. I see a lot of…bad things, in my work. It gets to the point where I can’t get them out of my head.
This isn’t the first time it’s interfered with me having a satisfying sex life, so believe me, it’s not you.” She looked away—it was all he was going to get from her. It was all she was prepared to give.

He was gazing at her too intently, and she needed to get away. She turned to get up, felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, I’m sorry to push. You don’t have to talk about it. I had a good time tonight. You want to get together and do something tomorrow?”

His request took her by surprise, and she blinked. Was he asking her on a date?

“Like what?”

“Something that doesn’t involve alcohol, maybe?”

She smiled, feeling that little tug she always seemed to get with him. Surprisingly, she wanted to spend more time with him, even if it was going nowhere. Standing, she took a deep breath as he lifted up easily to stand beside her.

“Okay. I guess I could meet you at breakfast and we can decide then.”

He stepped closer, and she felt her breath catch. He looked hot and handsome, and some of the tingle between her legs started up again, amazingly.

“And Sarah?”

“Huh?”

He leaned in, grazing her lips with a kiss that was light and yet incredibly scorching.

“You taste like heaven.”

He took her hand and started walking back toward the inn without another word.

 

S
ARAH WOKE UP
the next morning fully clothed and with the feeling she was terribly late. Late for what?

She glanced at her clock, struggling to clear her head. She’d slept late, exhausted after a restless night, to say the least.

Logan.

The events of the night before flooded back and she groaned. They had a date. How had she ended up agreeing to a date? Feeling heat invade her cheeks, she knew. Too many beers and too many nights alone had loosened her up just a little too much, softened her inhibitions. What he’d done had felt…good. Very good.

Abbreviated as it was, it was the best sex she’d had in a long time. Usually she didn’t even get that far, but apparently the alcohol helped her move past some of her blocks. Just not enough. She made a face, recalling his surprise when she’d asked him to stop. And much to his credit, he had. Without anger or even a hint of impatience, with apparently no thought to his own satisfaction, he’d stopped.

If only he hadn’t broken the spell when he spoke, maybe she could have blocked it out until she’d come. But that wouldn’t have been fair to him, since she wouldn’t have been able to go further.

What was she going to do now?

The inn provided breakfast between eight and ten, and it was nine-thirty. Her stomach growled, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, stripping quickly and flying into the shower.

Regardless of her bad judgment the night before, she was hungry, and she didn’t want to be rude. She’d said she’d meet him for breakfast, and she would. Now that her head was clear, she could get things back where they should be. He’d probably taken off by now, anyway.

 

L
OGAN SAT
with his cup of coffee, wondering if Sarah was bagging on him. He was beat, but looked forward to seeing her again in the bright light of day. He’d stayed up, his body raring to go, and he’d used the excess energy to work on getting that connection going again—with no luck. He couldn’t work on it during the day when someone might notice; he had to do it at night.

And at this rate, he wouldn’t be doing it at all. Looking out the window, he let the conversation around him fall to the background as he remembered what had happened the night before. He could still detect her slight scent on his skin.

It was almost ten. She hadn’t come to breakfast, hadn’t left a message. Something had sent her running last night, and she’d said it wasn’t him—she’d been enjoying herself until something had gotten between them, and he wanted to find out what it was.

She said she saw bad things in her work, things that stuck in her head. Did she work with abused women? Children? In a hospital? Was she a rape or abuse counselor? Had she herself suffered such a violation? He’d had some training in that area, the basics all cops needed to know. It made him sick to think something like that
happened to anyone, and it filled him with rage to think it might have happened to Sarah.

He took a deep breath. Or was she just snowing him, giving him some trumped-up excuse to put him off? Maybe he’d freaked her out going down on her like that? But no. She’d been into it, until something had chilled her. He wanted to find out what so he could chase those chills away.

He wanted to find out everything he could about Sarah Jessup. Tough as nails, he knew, she was also vulnerable and sexy—she kept herself protected, at a distance, and he wanted to break through. He wanted her again, as soon as he could make sure she felt the same way.

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