Silk Scarves and Seduction (18 page)

“Maybe my hearing is fucked up. Did you tell me to stop? Even once?”

Covering her face with her hands, Bo wished she could just disappear. She’d give anything to be anywhere but right here, right now. She jumped when he spoke right in her ear. “Did you, Bo?” he asked, his voice silky soft.

She looked up. His expression almost had her sidling away from him. The wall wouldn’t allow her to back up farther but she could already see a line of retreat if she just inched her way around him.
Coward
. Bo set her jaw and looked up at him. She’d been running from him for the past four years because of that one night. Because of what he’d made her feel, what he’d made her hope for. It was that, really, that had made her run. After the night they’d shared, if she hadn’t run…she could just see them together. She’d fantasized about just that for so long.

And if she was wrong, if Logan didn’t want much more than that one night, Bo wasn’t certain she could handle it. Cowardly
and
weak, she thought bitterly.
Damn it
,
you
’
re pathetic
,
Bo
. She swallowed. Met his gaze head-on and said in a level voice, “No, I didn’t tell you to stop.”

His hand cupped her cheek and she turned her face into his touch, needing it. Holy hell, she’d missed him. The past four years had been like she was slowly bleeding inside. Dying, bit by bit. She missed him. She’d adored Logan for more than half her life. Idolized him. He was one of her best friends—he was the one she ran to when she needed somebody, whether it was advice, a shoulder to cry on or somebody to yell at. And he’d always been there.

When she had run from him, she had cut herself off from that. His thumb stroked over her lower lip. Just that simple, chaste touch was enough to have her senses sizzling. She sighed raggedly.

“I’d never hurt you, Bo,” he murmured. His voice no longer sounded so stiff and distant. It was soft, low and rough—hypnotic. He pressed his mouth against her neck, tracing a light pattern on the sensitive skin there. “Never.”

Her voice shook as she answered, “I know that, Logan.”

“Do you?” he asked quietly. He nuzzled her neck and then lifted his head so he could bite her ear. That soft, careful nip affected her in so many ways. Her knees buckled and she would have collapsed to the floor if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around her and braced her body against his own.

He kissed her then, a soft, gentle kiss that was a seduction all on its own. The hand cupping her face moved down to curve around her neck, his thumb resting just above her pulse. She arched up, tried to take the kiss deeper but he eased her back with the hand he kept at her throat. He lifted his head. Their gazes locked. The look in his eyes was enough to melt metal, so hot, the pale golden brown dark with desire.

He wrapped a hand around her wrist and lifted it to his mouth, staring at the discolored marks there. He kissed the faint bruises on her wrists and shame twisted in her belly. She’d always bruised easily—always. The night they’d spent together, she’d had bruises on her wrists, ankles and thighs but not because he had hurt her. He hadn’t, not once. But she knew he didn’t like seeing those dark marks on her. “I was rough with you,” he whispered against her flesh.

She blushed. “I loved every second.”

He looked at her from under his lashes. He looked so serious. So solemn. “Maybe you didn’t tell me to stop.” He rubbed a thumb over the bruises on her wrist and said, “But that wasn’t how I wanted this. I waited four years to touch you again and then I fucked you up against a wall.”

He might not be pissed anymore but the broody, intense look wasn’t much better. The tension in the air was enough to choke her but she managed a smile. “I don’t have any complaints.”

“Oh, I know.” He touched the tip of his tongue to her wrist and then pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her palm. “You screamed out my name. I loved hearing it. I’m going to hear it again. But I had a different idea in mind, the first time I touched you again.”

Seduction could be torture. The sweetest, hottest, most erotic torture imaginable but still torture. Bo couldn’t breathe. Logan had carried her to the bed and she’d gasped when he picked her up. That was probably the last good breath she got and it had been who knows how long ago. Minutes, hours, maybe even days.

Logan lay between her thighs, sucking and licking her with a slow, almost lazy thoroughness that had her teetering on the edge of climax. She’d been teetering on that same edge for ages, it seemed. He pushed his tongue inside her pussy, stroking in, out, in, out…oh.
Oh
. She moaned out his name and reached down, fisting her hands in his hair. She rocked her hips against his mouth, tipping closer and closer to the edge.

Then he stopped.

He lifted his head and stared up at her. It took a couple of seconds to catch her breath and then she looked down at him. Once she did, he smiled.

That smile shook her down to her very core. It was full of sensual promise but under that was something deeper. Something she was too scared to think about. It was what lay under the promise that had scared her into running four years ago. And coward that she was, she wasn’t ready to face it now either.

As though he could sense her mental retreat, his smile faded just a little. But he said nothing, covering her body with his, taking her face between his hands and pressing a soft, rather chaste kiss to her lips. There was nothing chaste about his taste, though. Bo blushed as she tasted herself there and under that, the hot, heady taste of Logan.

“One of these days, you’ll stop pulling away from me,” he whispered and there was a determined glint in his eyes.

He pressed against her, the length of his cock hard and hot and pulsating. By contrast, his mouth was soft, almost gentle on hers and he kept the kiss light and easy as he pushed inside her so slowly, stretching her, filling her. Bo felt the burn of tears sting her eyes and she tried to blink them away. One after another broke free, sliding out of the corners of her eyes. Logan lifted his head and saw them—the feel of his lips kissing those tears away only made the ache in her heart worse.

You
’
ve ruined me for anybody else
, Bo thought bleakly. But she didn’t say anything. Instead she pressed her mouth to his. Every last minute of this—she was going to live it to the fullest and carry those memories for the rest of her life.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to him. She brought her legs up, hooking them over his hips and rocking up to meet each slow thrust. He moved with exquisite slowness. She was so acutely aware of even the smallest detail. The way his breathing hissed out of him when she clenched her muscles around his cock. The way the gold of his eyes darkened as she ran her hands over his shoulders. The way his harsh, rough face softened when she kissed him.

He jerked inside her and Bo moaned, tilting her hips more, trying to take him deeper. He slid a calloused palm down her side and cupped it over her hip, guiding her up at a high angle. Now she could feel him sliding back and forth against her clit as he pumped lazily into her.

Time fell away. The world fell away. Her wedding, her concerns about her dad, her stress over upcoming assignments, all of it fell away under the stroke of his hands, the brush of his lips and the movements of his body against hers. He took her to a place where nothing existed but the two of them as he took her from one heart-shattering climax to another.

Sweat gleamed on his body as he lifted his head to look down at her. His breathing had gotten harsh and ragged, coming in hot little gusts. Their gazes locked, held. His hands sought hers and their fingers intertwined. Like that, staring into each other’s eyes, hands linked, they gave in to the demands of their bodies. She sobbed out his name and he groaned hers. As she clenched around him, each little caress milked his cock until she’d emptied him completely and utterly.

He lay between her thighs with his head between her breasts. His breath sawed in and out of his lungs but eventually slowed. Bo was drifting off to sleep when he eased off her and lay beside her. He worked his arms around her waist and pulled her close against him. Bo cuddled into him, rubbing her cheek against his chest. His hand cupped the back of her head.

Just before she fell into total oblivion, she heard him murmur, “You can’t run away this time.”

Chapter Five

They napped for a little while and then Logan woke her up, making love to her again. He left her dozing and the next thing she knew, she smelled bacon, eggs and pancakes.

They ate. They made love. He got a bag out of his car and she opened it to find several changes of clothes. She showered—then had to shower again when Logan came up behind her in the bathroom and pressed her up against the wall again.

Her back wasn’t ever going to be the same but oddly enough, Bo didn’t give a damn. Sore, sensitive muscles winced as she dressed. Logan stood by, his dark, possessive eyes watching every move she made.

They walked through the woods without speaking, just enjoying the peace and quiet and each other. Bo couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so…right. Being with Logan felt right.

But it was wrong.

She knew it was. And the darkness of that knowledge kept intruding on her thoughts throughout the day, until she could scarcely think past it.

You can
’
t run away this time
.

No. She couldn’t run. Even if he had put the keys in her hand and put her butt in the car, she couldn’t run away. Not this time. Time enough would come when she’d have to walk away but until that second came, she wasn’t going to think about it.

Or at least, she was going to try to not think about it. Her head had other thoughts, though. They’d returned to the cabin after their walk and spent some time in the hot tub. By the time they got out, the deck was nearly as wet as they were.

Hunger finally drove them into the kitchen where they ate as Bo sat on Logan’s lap. Night fell with the two of them back in bed, where Logan shoved her thighs apart and used his mouth on her until she screamed herself hoarse.

They fell asleep with his arm wrapped around her waist, banding her against him. He didn’t let go of her, not once throughout the night.

But Bo barely slept.
You can
’
t run away this time
. His words echoed through her mind, disturbing her off and on throughout the night. Each time when she managed to drift off, those words came back to haunt her.

As a result, morning dawned with her in a worse than normal mood. No amount of coffee was going to help, either. She lay wrapped in his arms and wanted to cry. Sunlight filtered in through the narrow gaps in the curtain and she could see dust motes floating around the bright streams of light.

The cabin was cool. Under the covers with Logan wrapped around, she felt all toasty warm and comfortable. She didn’t ever want to move. But with morning, reality came crashing down.

She had screwed things up royally. She never should have started going out with David. She never should have let it drag on as long as it had and she never should have agreed to marry him. Shame flooded her as she realized she hadn’t just been trying to fool herself. She’d been using David as well.

Right now, in the cool, quiet morning, she could even admit to herself why. Bo was in love with Logan and always had been. She didn’t like it. Love was messy. Love was painful. Her dad had gone through hell when her mom died.

It was something Bo hadn’t ever really wanted to experience, that deep, tearing loss. It was part of the reason she’d always held herself a little apart. With David, it had been easy.
Any
of the other guys she’d dated—holding herself apart had been easy.

It wouldn’t be with Logan.

She was in love with Logan. She didn’t like it—hell, the thought of it flat out terrified her. She suddenly had that insane urge to take off running again. Running far, far away and this time, maybe she’d stay away more than four years. A decade might work.

Marrying somebody else wasn’t going to fill the void in her heart.

But letting herself believe in a happily ever after with Logan didn’t seem like much of an option, either.

She felt it when he woke up. His sigh drifted across her shoulder, warm and soft, and he stretched a little. Bo could feel the length of his cock against her bottom. The rigid length throbbed. Involuntarily, she pushed back against him.

His chest vibrated against her back as he rumbled, “Morning.” His hand stroked up her side to cup her breast and Bo closed her eyes against the wave of want that washed through her.

Logan, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil, lifted up on his elbow so he could nuzzle her neck. Tears stung her eyes and Bo closed them so he wouldn’t see. “Playtime’s over, Logan. Let me up.”

He stilled. That tense, eerie stillness of his that she always hated. Slowly, he lifted his head so he could look down at her. Bo could feel the weight of his stare and she opened her eyes, only to wish she hadn’t. That hard, intent gaze focused on her face and Bo had to fight the urge not to squirm away. He made her feel like he could see right through her. “You haven’t given me your answer,” he said. His voice was silky soft but no less intimidating for it.