With the memories inundating her and his menacing form, covered only in boxer briefs, invading her personal space, she felt a hot, sweet ache begin to build in the pit of her stomach. Their gazes clashed and his nostrils flared as his hand reached out and encapsulated her wrist. His fingers wrapped hotly around her flesh and she knew without a shadow of doubt that she wouldn't be able to break free, even if she'd wanted to. Oh yes! This was exactly how it used to be.
He studied her for only a moment before snapping, "Answer me."
A molten river of heat bled through her veins at his tone and from the feel of his grasp on her skin. There were a few things that made his supreme arrogance, his punishing grip, and his harsh words acceptable to her. More than acceptable. Hot. Arousing. Awe- inducing, even six years after they'd started sleeping together. And those things were the gentle swirl of his thumb against her pulse point as he held her so tightly. The slight trace of vulnerability in his voice that told her that his entire happiness hinged on her answer. The way he was so obsessive about making sure she was safe. And the fact that he loved her, worshipped her even, heart, body, and soul.
Yeah, she'd do just about anything for him. She was crazy about him, and his over-the-top attitude, the way he was, did crazy things to her insides.
"I'm waiting, Lauren." His other hand sank into her hair and he pulled her body into his, flush against him, their torsos slamming together, aligned for a perfect match, with his superior height looming over her, dominating her where she stood.
Butterflies hit her stomach and she hoped the answer she was going to give him would be enough. "I have a headache. I needed to take some pills," she said as she indicated with a slight tilt of her head the bottle still sitting on the granite countertop.
"Are you okay?" His words were gentle, and his concern impacted her the way it always did. She was enticed by his love, mesmerized by the craving to keep her healthy and safe that he couldn't hide.
"Yes," she said simply.
His gaze became pointed. "Why do you have a headache?"
She looked away from him and focused on the refrigerator. "I don't know. It's just tension, I think."
"Yeah, I bet." His words held sarcasm, which she couldn't miss.
She took a quick breath and looked up at him again. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're under stress, obviously. Because you're lying to me about something. I guess I ought to be damn glad you're feeling stress, because if you aren't, that means you're used to lying to me."
Lauren bit her lip and anxiety rushed through her. "Logan, don't."
"Don't what?" he asked with more than a trace of accusation.
"Don't start," she answered softly.
"Fine." His grip on her scalp intensified. "You want to do this tomorrow? I can wait. Come back to bed."
She hesitated only fractionally, but it was enough to set the predator off in him. His jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth and his expression turned ferocious, an atavistic hunger encompassing his features. He reached down, and with one smooth stroke, boosted her by the hips and lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, and walked with her into the living room, the idea of going back to bed forgotten for the moment.
He reached the sofa and turned around and dropped down, carrying her with him, and she landed on top, straddled across him.
Threading his fingers through her hair, he pulled her face to his and took her with his mouth, his tongue sweeping inside and tasting her fully. He kissed her relentlessly, and with one hand kneading her back, he continued to push into her, his tongue mimicking the act of sex. She fell into the kiss, moaning softly.
He lifted his head from hers and her eyes opened. She found him studying her intensely, his look fevered, smoldering. "Are you okay, baby?" His hand left her spine and slid to her cheek. "Is your head hurting too much? I'll leave you alone if I have to."
A shiver of response slid through her bloodstream. Oh, God. She loved him so much. He was so sweet to her, so tender, even when she'd upset him. "I never want you to leave me alone. Never, Logan." She slid her fingers over his five o-clock shadow, and felt the roughness of his cheek. His dark brown eyes flared, and his gaze intensified.
He stood to his feet with one quick movement, and flipped her until she lay on the sofa, her butt on the edge and her legs dangling over the side. Grasping her at the hips, he ripped her panties off and shoved them down her legs. He spread her thighs and pushed between them. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing against her inner thighs. He waited not even a moment, and spread her open, his fingers on the inner folds between her legs. He looked down, and his face became tinged with red, a growl coming low and deep from his throat, and he fell on her like a ravenous animal, licking her and sucking her, all his attention centered on the pleasure he was trying to give her. And the pleasure he was taking from her.
Lauren was hit with a delirious feeling of arousal, hot and fast, and her world quickly narrowed to Logan's tongue rasping against her hot flesh. His tongue was wet and rough, and he used it against her repeatedly, taking long swipes up and down, and then finding her clit and taking it between his teeth.
A high-pitched squeal came from the back of her throat, and she sank her fingers into his hair and lifted her hips against his mouth. He retaliated quickly, sinking his middle finger into her, plunging it inside, again and again before shoving it up hard inside of her and swirling it around it a dedicated assault on her senses.
She tried to stop it, she tried to make it last, but she had no control and her eyes glazed over as she began to come. She came hard and fast, quakes shaking her body as the depth of the orgasm hit her.
He ripped his boxers down and before she could come down from the high he had set her on, he sank inside of her, one long hard thrust joining them together. He held still inside her a moment and let her ride out the rest of her orgasm before moving. And then he began thrusting inside of her, short, stabbing thrusts that quickly brought her to the edge again.
She clung onto his shoulders as he held himself over her, and when she opened her eyes, his were hot on hers. "I won't share you, understand me? I'll never let anybody near you." His eyes were hot, fierce, inflexible. "You're mine. You'll always be mine."
"Yes, babe. And you're mine. Nobody touches you either. It goes both ways."
At the reassurance, his eyes closed and all his concentration seemed to focus on the point where they were connected. He stroked her with firm motions, going deeper, and then deeper still, until Lauren didn't know where he stopped and she began. He surged inside of her, suddenly becoming larger and harder and his thrusts came faster and rougher in orgasm. A keening wail sounded in the room, and she was dimly aware that the sound was coming from her throat as she came again. For him. With him.
Lauren woke up in their bed and couldn't remember how she had gotten there. Of course, she could guess, and she heard the water running in the shower before she even opened her eyes. The sunlight seemed to be coming in brightly from the windows and as she opened her eyes, she realized it had to be later than she normally woke up. She'd had a rough night. She'd had a great night in bed with Logan, but the anxiety and stress she was feeling hadn't gone away, and sleep had evaded her until the dawn hours.
The water turned off, and a few minutes later, Logan walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his hips and another one in his hand, running it roughly through his hair. "Get up, babe." His words were rough again this morning and she knew he was still unhappy. And who the hell could blame him?
She smiled at him and tried to gentle him from his sour mood. "Get up? I thought this was the place you always want me to be."
He smiled back, but it was mirthless and his eyes were troubled. "You need to get up and get ready. We're catching a flight in two hours." His words were inflexible. They stated a fact and she knew immediately that she wasn't going to get a vote.
Her smile dropped and she sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to her naked form. "A flight?"
"Yeah."
"Mind telling me where we're going?" She asked as nicely as she could manage.
"The Bahamas."
"The Bahamas." She repeated flatly. "Why? Since when?"
"Since I made the reservations last night. Now get up, I don't want to be late." His tone was inflexible.
"Logan, don't you have to work today? You can't just expect me to leave at the drop of the hat and be ready in what, an hour?"
"Forty-five minutes. And if you're not ready, I'll pick you up and carry you out of the house butt-ass-naked, don't think I won't. So you need to quit talking and start moving, got it?"
Lauren studied him for the space of three seconds until she realized that he was dead serious. If she wasn't ready, he'd drag her out of here kicking and screaming. And crap. He wasn't going to have to drag her, because she wanted to go. A long weekend in The Bahamas? Hell, yes.
She jumped up and flew to the bathroom and showered and washed her hair in under ten minutes. When she came out, he was throwing his clothes into a duffel. He walked into the bathroom to gather his toiletries, and said, "Just a carry-on. We're not going to check any luggage. All you need are a couple of pairs of shorts and a swimsuit. Maybe a sundress or something. If you need anything when we get there, you can buy it."