Her heart went out to Logan. It was a lot to deal with at sixteen. He’d been reeling, grief-stricken. A note like the one he’d received from the killer warning him away from her would have both scared and confused him. Tara couldn’t blame him for the decisions he’d made then.
“Cherry, if I’d had my way, we would have stayed together, gone to prom as a couple, graduated hand-in-hand.” He shrugged. “Built a life together.”
A part of her really wanted to believe that, but after everything that had happened, she couldn’t imagine that alternate universe. “Why didn’t you ever try to tell me all this after your mom’s case cooled down?”
“After you changed your cell, I only had your stepfather’s home number.”
And she’d always made Adam answer the phone and tell him off. “You could have come to see me.”
“I tried. Remember a couple of Christmases ago? You slammed the door in my face.”
She had. And now she regretted it like hell. “We’ll never know the paths our lives would have taken if things had been different. I may be training to be a submissive. I may even have submissive tendencies. I don’t know that I could live this life.”
“You could, baby, under the right circumstances. It doesn’t have to be in a club, if you don’t like that setting. I just want to be with you. I’d vow to be the most loving Dom ever.”
“Isn’t that kind of an oxymoron? What, you’d boss me around in a tender way?” She raised a disbelieving brow.
“Yeah. Say the word, Cherry, and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”
His words, along with his body heat settling under her skin, made her tremble. “I just lost a fiancé today, and there’s been too much water under the bridge. Maybe . . . your hang-up isn’t about me in particular. Is there another incident—”
“I know what happened. I know what’s in my heart,” he growled each word fiercely, fisting the cheap bedspread beneath her. “It was you. It’s always been you.”
Those words sounded so romantic, and the female in her really, really wanted to believe them. But they almost didn’t compute. Yes, she’d pined for Logan, but him for her?
Oh, God. Her next confession was going to open her up wide, but he’d been so painfully honest, how could she be anything less? “I saw a therapist shortly after college. I went to him for a good two years. He suggested that my hang-up about you stemmed from the fact that our break was really sudden. He suggested that I simply needed closure. Maybe that’s what you need, too. Maybe we just needed to talk it all out and know the score—”
“No. I know what I need, what I’ve always needed.” Logan wriggled his hips between the slight spread of her thighs, forcing them wider, until his cock settled right against her pussy. “Cherry, I need you.”
Then he rocked against her, igniting her body with sensation to match all the emotions swirling inside her. Tara closed her eyes. God, it would be so easy to give in. He wanted her. Between her tears and her loathing, she’d fantasized more than once about what it would be like for Logan to make love to her again. Never in her wildest fantasies had she imagined that she’d actually have this opportunity again.
She licked her lips. “Logan, really, maybe you’re mistaking some old emotion or the need for closure for actual love. Someday, you will fall in love with the right person and—”
“You think I’ve never been in love? Baby, I never fell out of love with you.”
Tara’s heart lurched in her chest. And something that felt way too much like joy raced through her veins like a heady drug. She had to take a deep breath and stop herself. Everything on his face underscored his honesty—at least as he believed it. But how could he know for certain? If what he said was true, he’d never really been in another relationship, so it was possible he’d fixated on her because she was the last girl he’d tried to love. There was too much behind them, and even if she put the BDSM thing aside, their lives were going in opposite directions. She might have a mountain of feelings for Logan, but being with him so soon after getting out of a relationship with Brad . . . Frying pan, meet fire.
But she wasn’t immune to his pain. If he was stuck here, then perhaps she could help him out. Maybe it would be good for both of them to get the closure they’d never had.
“Kiss me, Logan.” When his entire body tensed, she added, “Please.”
“If I start, Cherry, I won’t be able to stop.” He caressed a gentle hand down her hair, over her shoulder, brushing the side of her breast to settle at her waist.
“You sure? It’s been five years . . .” Would he still be able to? Would he feel empty afterward, as he did with the others?
“Oh, I’m dying to prove that, with you, everything will work just fine.”
“Then kiss me,” Tara repeated.
She’d worry about tomorrow when tomorrow came. Tonight, she’d be with him, try to heal his pain, scar over her own. He’d done an incredibly selfless thing to protect her all those years ago. She might wish that he’d told her what was going on. But at the end of the day, he’d been young and he’d done what he thought would be best for her, shattering his own heart in the process.
Clearly, he cared about her. But unending love?
They were going to be together until she went undercover. Maybe it would be best, for both of them, to spend the rest of the week together, training hard by day, working through their issues by night. Maybe by the end of the week, both of them would be ready to move on with their lives, sane, happy, and whole.
“Cherry, baby . . .” he breathed out, then settled his mouth over hers.
The kiss was soft as a rose petal. He clearly leashed himself, sinking into her mouth slowly, as if worried that he would scare her.
When his tongue brushed her bottom lip, then curled into her mouth, Tara opened to him. There was no place she’d rather be than here tonight with Logan. Maybe they weren’t meant to be together forever, but every time he touched her she felt some inexorable bond with him, an invisible line that ran between them over the years, unchanged, unbroken.
Logan moaned, then nudged the little spaghetti strap of her nightie down her shoulder, then shoved the garment under her breast. The cool air hit her nipple, and it puckered. He covered the little bud with his hand, pinched it with his fingers. Then he looked down at her with burning blue eyes, already panting.
“Take it off for me.”
That was his Dom voice. She couldn’t fail to recognize the lower, silkier tone. Her pussy clenched. She nodded.
He eased off of her, still hovering above her. He gave her just enough room to pull the garment up her body and over her head. She used it to shield herself.
Logan’s stare raked her body. Around the edges of the little nightie, he could surely see that she hadn’t been wearing any panties. “Fuck, Cherry. I can’t wait to get inside you, baby. Hand the nightgown to me.”
Those hushed words, his low command, made her insides flip, then melt. Of the lovers she ever had, none had ever made her feel as beautiful and desired as Logan.
Tara was shocked to feel a blush creeping up her skin as she handed the little cotton garment to him. “Can we kill the lights?”
Logan shook his head. “I’m going to enjoy seeing your every expression while I’m deep inside you.”
As her belly dipped in reaction, he flung her nightgown to the other side of the room. Despite the anticipation charging through her system, she laughed.
“Hey,” he defended, “if I had my way, I’d burn it. As it is, I’ll make sure you don’t need that for the rest of the night.”
Her belly quivered. “Kiss me, Logan. Don’t stop.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he promised, before dropping his hand to her hair, tucking his fingers beneath her head, and bringing her close.
This time, his mouth settled over hers firmly. He didn’t merely seduce her with his kiss; he took charge, nudging her lips apart with his own, tasting her deep inside, an endless tangle of lips and tongues that had her breathless and clinging. She wrapped her arms around his sizeable shoulders, fingers grasping into the hard flesh of his back as he moved between her thighs and began working his way down her body.
His lips caressed her everywhere. She shivered as they drifted down her neck, to the sensitive little spot where it joined with her shoulder. Those same sure lips pressed tender kisses across her collarbone as his palm cradled her breast in his hand. Languid honey rolled through her blood, and yet, every sense felt attuned to him. Even her skin seemed to strain closer to him.
“I fantasized about this a lot,” he whispered against her skin. “From the day I met you, I used to think about getting you alone and naked for uninterrupted hours, exploring every part of your body over and over.”
His words alone made her shiver, but when he closed his lips over the hard bud of her nipple, she cried out and arched toward him. Instantly, he wrapped an arm under her back to support her—and keep her there.
“When I’ve been drunk or just really damn lonely, I’d let myself think of you. You don’t know how fucking often I’d roll over in bed and wish you were there.”
The sincerity pouring off of Logan made her want to cry. “I thought of you, too. When I realized I was doing it, I’d try to force myself to stop. But sometimes, I couldn’t. I’d remember the way you made me feel, like a woman, like . . . someone special. No one else has ever made me feel that way.”
“Cherry, you
are
special. I’m never going to let you forget it.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she slammed them shut. If he kept talking like that, they wouldn’t get closure; she wouldn’t want it. She’d want nothing more than to cling to Logan and pretend the last twelve years had never happened. She’d want to pretend they could have a fairy-tale ending.
That would most likely lead to another broken heart.
Tara forced out a saucy grin. “Shut up and take your clothes off.”
He paused, then smiled down at her. “You’re awfully demanding tonight, baby. If you’re not careful, that’s going to cost you tomorrow.”
She shrugged, but excitement raced through her veins, pulsed between her legs. She would never have considered herself a glutton for punishment, but the way Logan dished out pain, it felt awfully sweet going down.
But he did as she asked, and shrugged off his tight black T-shirt. Every time she saw him exposed, she wanted to swallow her tongue.
“Are you going to tell me what this really means?” She traced the Japanese lettering along his bronzed, muscled torso.
“How much of yourself are you going to share with me?”
He’d dangled the answer to her question like a carrot, wiggling it in front of her face as bait, hoping she’d expose all her secrets to him.
Tara couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t disappointed—or terrified.
He sighed. “If you can’t share everything with me tonight, Cherry, I understand. It’s been a long time for us, and Brad . . . I know it just ended. All I’m asking is that you share as much of yourself with me tonight as you can.”
He acted as if this was meaningful, almost momentous, not merely closure. Tara swallowed. Eventually he’d see that, while there was something wonderful between them, it wasn’t a forever kind of thing.
Was it?
She gnawed on her lip. “Is there anything else you won’t share with me?”
“No. I’m going to give you everything you’ll let me.”
That made her swallow against a new tide of desire. According to Xander, Logan had shared next to nothing of himself with anyone in years. The fact that he felt differently about her warmed something dangerous in her chest. She shouldn’t be more to him than the means to heal a wound. But she couldn’t deny that part of her wanted more.
Without another word, he stood and unfastened his jeans, then slid them down his hips, taking his boxer briefs with them. Slim hips, jutting hipbones and a dark cluster of pubic hair revealed themselves before his cock sprung free. She blinked.
Tara hadn’t looked at him when he’d taken her virginity. At sixteen, she’d been too embarrassed. The moment between them then had been tender, but now she knew why it had hurt so damn bad initially. He was long and incredibly thick and very hard. His stalk stood straight up, its head flaring bluish and wide and fascinating. He had, by far, the biggest cock she’d ever seen.
Unconsciously, she licked her lips nervously.
He groaned. “Baby, don’t tease me like that. You’re killing me.”
Instantly, she understood—and wanted the opportunity to drive him mad. Since she’d walked into his dungeon, he’d had more than one chance to dish out the sensual torture. This could be hers, and she wanted it.
“I’m not teasing,” she whispered.
“Shit, Cherry.” He drew in a shuddering breath and stepped closer, wrapping his hands around her head. “This has been one of the most potent fantasies I’ve had for years. Suck me.”
When he drew her down to his turgid cock, she opened her mouth, conscious that he watched her every move with unblinking eyes. She could feel his rapt attention all through her body. Excitement settled right beneath her clit.