Chapter 6
Day 9
It was still dark when I woke. My head was nestled on Logan’s chest, and his arm was around me, fingers slowly caressing up and down my back. I knew he was awake; I could hear his breathing, and it wasn’t slow, long breaths, but ... awake breaths. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to speak, but there was something in Logan that changed when we lay together like this. So I took the chance, and I shifted my head up, my cheek sliding over the smooth, hard muscles of his chest.
He was watching me, and when I met his eyes my breath seized. I was caught in the trap of his desire that was swimming in the dark depths. Controlling my reaction was ... well, it was impossible. He still could turn me on with one look, and all the sweet flooded back to me like being hit by a tidal wave.
“Logan.” I stiffened after I said it.
He sighed and then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, I saw what looked like haunted turmoil.
I wanted to kiss him, touch him, feel him. Crush him to me and take away all the fear and just ... I just wanted to feel protected and loved by him again.
My lips were close to his chest, and I couldn’t stop myself as I kissed him. It felt as if it was a goodbye to everything we’d lost and sadness filled me. Especially when I realized that he hadn’t lost anything, he’d gained. A single tear escaped to land on his skin.
I started to pull away and he groaned then his arm tightened around me. When I looked at him again, there was no anger, no aloofness, just Logan. The Logan I knew and ... yes, loved.
“Eme,” he whispered.
The scorching flame between my legs was lit with hope, desire, and need. I craved this man; I loved him, and I wanted him back, but I was scared too. I was afraid of what these feelings would do to me when he turned around and became the man I feared.
I fought the desire, and I failed. He hadn’t moved toward me, and I was uncertain why, considering Logan was always the dominant one. I knew he’d never love me or care about me like I’d once thought he had, but I wanted comfort. I craved it, and if he gave it to me physically than I’d take it.
I trailed kisses up his chest to his neck, and his fingers curled in my hair. He closed his eyes and groaned. Slow and hesitant, I moved up and onto his body, instantly feeling the heat of his skin sink into me. I’d only done this once and had hoped he’d take the lead.
“Eme.” He tone was gentle, and a heated rush of goose bumps sprinkled across my skin. “Jesus, what you do to me.”
My mind was all f*cked up as it fought against the comfort I needed. I’d been beaten, threatened and starved, witnessed horrific abuse and I lived each moment in terror. I yearned for some kind of comfort—even if it was from the monster who had lied to me about everything. I had tried so hard to stop feeling anything for this man who shattered my heart and now ... now I wanted him to make love to me. It was sick. I was sick.
I lowered my lips to his, and at first he didn’t reciprocate as I kissed him, slipping my tongue inside his mouth, and then ... then he broke, and his hands grabbed me on either side of my head, and he kissed me back.
Logan. He was my Logan.
I moaned as he rolled me over without our lips disconnecting. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he was on his knees between mine.
“Oh God,” I whispered breathlessly.
He pulled back, and I grabbed for him, but he’d become the one in control again, and he kissed his way down my body until he was hovering over my p-ssy. I pulsated. I panted. I needed him, and yet he stopped. He wasn’t moving.
“Please, Logan.”
“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
“You have me. What else?”
His mouth was inches away from me, and if I arched upward I could ...
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“Kiss me.”
“Where?”
Oh God. Why was he making me do this? I was so frustrated that I threw my arms back and gripped the headboard. “My p-ssy. I want you to taste me, Logan.”
He didn’t hesitate any longer, and within minutes I was writhing and screaming with uncontainable desire. He did that to me. Everything in him right now was the man I knew and loved. There was no fighting that fact.
Logan drove me to begging, and then I crested and came hard, screaming his name. He slid up my body and kissed me again with fierce possession.
We lay silent, him spooning me, and his fingers drawing slow circles over my abdomen. It was sweet, and I loved the feel of his hardened fingertips which I suspected came from playing the guitar. I never thought for a second that I’d fall into this man’s arms again, and I knew when the sun’s rays shone in the morning I’d hate myself, but for right now I was going to take what he’d given me—comfort.
After a while, when I couldn’t fall back asleep, I asked, “What about your band? You ... I thought you were going on tour.” It was a long shot that he’d tell me anything, but I hoped we could talk like we used to. Maybe I could learn why he was doing this. What had changed so drastically?
He kept drawing on me while he spoke. “We’ll get there.”
“When you leave here?”
“Yeah, Emily.”
Okay, so that meant he didn’t plan on staying forever. Or keeping me? Oh God, would he leave me here? Was he going to sell me? My throat tightened as I said, “When?”
“We can’t be having this conversation.”
I had to talk to try to stop the panic from taking control. I had to pretend, at least in the dark, that we were somewhere else. That if he left, he’d take me with him. “How did the band get together?”
Logan chuckled, and the sound made me jump then stiffen, uncertain why he’d laugh. My panicked mind thought maybe I’d pushed him with the questions and he was laughing because now he was going to punish me. God, that sounded ridiculous. Logan wouldn’t laugh if he was going to hurt me, he’d be angry.
I was losing it. I was fighting the fear of him leaving me here or selling me and everything he did I was second guessing, trying to decipher what it meant. But I couldn’t, could I? Because I didn’t know who Logan was.
“From the moment I met you, you wouldn’t give up. Why was I expecting any different even here?”
I took a deep breath when his voice was calm and playful. We’d met the night of his fight, when I’d asked him to teach me self-defense, he’d laughed; then after making fun of me he told me a direct no. But I wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Logan found that out pretty quick.
“I met Kite when I was sixteen.” My muscles relaxed as he started talking. “My mother and I had just moved to Toronto, and Kite and I went to the same school. We became instant friends.” I felt him shrug. “Think it was his calm, take-no-shit attitude. First time I saw him was in the lunch room where a couple of guys purposely bumped him then pushed his tray out of his hands, spilling his food onto the floor. Kite picked up his tray, threw his ruined lunch in the garbage then strolled over to the guys who were now sitting at the table laughing.
Kite never said a word as he grabbed one guy and had him on the ground crying within seconds. The other guy took off running. There wasn’t a flicker of fear or unease in Kite.
We started hanging out after that. He’d just left a band he was playing with. I found out the two guys were his old bandmates. Kite played drums, and we soon discovered I could hold a tune.” Logan kissed my neck just below my ear, and I shivered. “We hung out at the local coffee shop where I started writing my own music. Georgie bought the place a couple years later.”
“I didn’t realize you knew her.”
“She introduced me to Crisis and Ream. They were friends with her brother.”
“Brother? She never told me she had a brother.”
His finger stopped tracing for a second and then started again. “Yeah. Georgie’s brother was in the JTF2—Joint Task Force 2—with Deck. A counter terrorism unit. Deck came back from their last mission, Georgie’s brother didn’t.”
“Oh. God.” I hadn’t known. Was that why Deck was so protective of Georgie?
“Go back to sleep, Eme.”
“Logan?”
“Yes, Emily.”
“When can we leave?” I held my breath. Afraid to ask the question, yet needing to know if he was taking me with him when he left. I hoped. No, I prayed he’d tell me not to worry. That he’d never leave me. That he’d never sell me. But the truth was—I didn’t know.
I felt his muscles stiffen, and he drew in a deep breath. Our moment was over. It changed within seconds, and I wanted to cry and hit him then yell and scream. Instead I watched him as he threw back the covers, got out of bed—still with a raging hard on—then strode into the bathroom closing the door.
The tears slid down my cheeks and I buried my face in the pillow as the sobs took hold. Logan was going to sell me.
The day was lonely after Logan left. He’d showered, dressed, then walked out without a single word to me. I waited all day for him to come back, uncertainty playing with my mind as I paced the length of the room. I ignored the food the girl brought and saw her frown when she came back to get the tray and the food remained untouched. In the afternoon the same thing happened except this time the girl kept her eyes lowered.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted from worrying if whether or not Logan was trying to find a buyer for me today. I’d upset him, pushed him with my questions.
When the door finally opened it was dark outside. I knelt in the corner of the room and held my breath until I peeked up and saw that it was Logan and not Alfonzo coming to drag me away. I wanted to throw myself into his arms with relief. I wanted to cry and I wanted to kiss him and thank him.
God, I was crazy. There was something wrong with me. I was so screwed up with my feeling toward Logan. One moment afraid of him, the next wanting him, then terrified he was going to sell me then having hope he’d get me out of here.
What did comfort me was that, if given the chance, I’d leave. I’d leave Logan, and I’d get out. I’d never look back. I may want him sexually or want the comfort of someone I’d once loved, but that would end the second I escaped.
I even wondered if I would kill Logan to do it. These thoughts are what happen when left alone for ten hours with nothing to do. My mind went on an imagination highway contemplating scenarios that may never be true.
But when I saw Logan walk in tonight the pain in his expression was worse than yesterday, and I began to wonder if the fight Raul had talked about was beginning to weigh heavily on him. Did he think he might lose? I hadn’t considered Logan losing. I’d been so worried about everything else that I assumed he’d win, but he might not. What would Raul do if he lost? I’d be sold, but what would he do to Logan? I suspected Raul didn’t take failure too well from anyone. Was Logan concerned about what would happen to him? But if Logan was worried about losing that meant he wanted to keep me right?
“Come here.”
I got up and walked toward him.
He raised my head with the tip of his finger under my chin. “You can’t do that again.”
A crackle of fear went through me. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d been good.
His thumb stroked my lower lip back and forth, and I didn’t even think he realized he was doing it because ... because he used to do that all the time to me. “Last night was wrong.” His hand dropped, and he strode to the other side of the room and stared out the window. His hands gripped the iron bars as he stood silent and still.
I knew what I had to do and there was a struggle within me whether I was doing it because I was trying to help myself or because I wanted to comfort him. I quietly approached him, stopping a few inches behind, and took a deep breath then reached out and placed my hands on his waist. “Please.” I didn’t know what I was saying please for; maybe to get him to talk to me, to turn and look at me, to hold me, God, to tell me that we were leaving.
“Let go.”
I was going to. I stiffened and was about to, but he’d said those exact words to me the night I’d met him, and I didn’t listen then. Yeah, stupid maybe, because this Logan wasn’t the same one. But maybe he was? He had friends, a band, there was a chance that the Logan I knew existed. Maybe I just had to find him and bring him back to me.
I stepped in closer, kissed his shoulder then trailed kisses down his spine.
“Emily. Don’t.”
But he let me. My hands started at his shoulders then ran down his arms until they rested on top of his hands that were gripping the bars so tight that his knuckles were white. I peeled each finger away from the bars, until he let go, his arms falling to his sides, my hands holding his.
“Are you scared of me?”
I was thrown off for a second by his question; it seemed odd to ask me that now. I answered him honestly. “Yes.”
His head dropped forward with a half-nod.
“I want to ...” God, I wanted him so much it hurt. It was ripping me apart having him next to me night after night. No matter how wrong it may be, I still wanted him. Or maybe it was I wanted to believe so badly that he was still the man I loved that I would do anything. Was that weak? Was I falling prey to what he wanted? Right now I didn’t care. Tonight I wasn’t going to care about anything except Logan and me.
“Please, Logan.”
He turned. And any reservations I may have had lingering were swept aside the moment I looked in his eyes and recognized the warmth within them.
“Please. I need you.”
His hand swept into my hair, fingers curling around the nape of my neck. “You’ve never needed me, Eme.” He was wrong, but I didn’t argue because right now I wanted him to kiss me, so I stood on my tip toes and kissed him first.
The moment the heat of our lips pressed together I heard him moan. He swooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed then placed me on the rumpled sheets. He leaned over me, both arms on either side of my head.
“You want this?”
I nodded.
“Tell me, Emily.”
“I want this. I want you.”
He stared at me for several seconds, and I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he finally spoke again. “Then tonight, show me. Show me exactly what you want and take it.”
I nodded again, although I was feeling uncertain and nervous. My experience was, well, zilch, but Kat and I had watched pornos numerous times, laughing at the ridiculous positions and moaning, but still we’d learned a lot.
Logan slid off his jeans and his T-shirt, but left on his boxers then climbed into bed and lay on his back beside me.
He really was going to make me be the one to pursue this? “Logan.”
“You want this then it has to be you.”
“Why? I like it when ...” How did I say that I was totally turned on when he was the aggressor?
Logan stroked the back of my head, and I looked up at him. “I’ll give you that. But not tonight.”
I felt the heat in my cheeks as I thought of what I was going to do to him, the sweet ache in my belly as I anticipated tasting him and watching his face while I did it.
I slipped over top of his thigh so that I lay between his legs; then I put my fingers on the material that kept his cock hidden from me. I watched his eyes as I slowly slid his boxers down. He lifted his butt a little, and then my eyes moved down his abdomen to his cock as it sprang free from its confines.
I hesitated, and my hand reached out to touch the tip, feeling the moisture. He sucked in air and I got braver as I slid his boxers off the rest of the way and then wrapped my hand around the base of his cock.
Instantly, it jerked, and Logan groaned.
God, I felt powerful. It was incredible that I could make him feel like that with just holding him.
“Emily.” His hand caressed my cheek, and when I looked at him I saw his features ease. I smiled. It had been over a week since I’d smiled, and it felt as if I’d been set free for that single moment. This was always how I imagined it would be like between us always.
I lowered my eyes to his cock again, and then my mouth followed.
“F*ck,” he muttered.
I licked the tip and tasted a sweet saltiness that lingered on my tongue. Slowly, I took him in further and further until I couldn’t anymore. My hand caressed his balls the same time as I sucked, soft then harder and harder, moving up and down, his cock pulsating in my mouth with each stroke.
“Jesus, Eme.” His fingers curled in my hair, and he urged me faster.
He was arching off the bed to meet me, and a few times he pushed too far, and I gagged, and he immediately pulled back.
I teased him with my tongue, my lips, and then I gripped the base of him tight until he was swearing and groaning. Suddenly I was being pulled up on top of him, my face inches away from his.
“Are you going to f*ck me now? Because I’m not lasting much longer.”
“Yes.”
“Then put me inside you.”
I felt his cock between my legs throbbing, and I lifted up, took hold of it then slid it up and down my entrance, my wetness clinging to the tip of it.
“Now.”
I let his cock go, and his breath hitched as his eyes widened with surprise. Then he frowned, and he got that scary look. For a second I let the fear in, and then I licked my lips, sat up straight, and put my head back, closing my eyes.
“Play with your nipples.”
My eyes flew open and a tweak hit my belly at his words. I slowly slid my hands up my body to my breasts. When I started playing with my nipples the desire in his eyes intensified.
“Oh f*ck.” His entire body stiffened beneath me, and I didn’t have to look at him to know what I was doing to him. And damn, it felt good. I still liked when he took control, but being where we were, and after giving all my control over to him, and knowing what this place stood for ... Well, having him succumb to me made me feel strong again.
I pinched my nipples hard and then reached down, grabbing his hands and putting them over top of my breasts. “Touch me, Logan. I need you to touch me.”
And he did. There were no more games as both of us lost ourselves to the desire. Panting with the need for possession. He sat up, taking me with him, then his head lowered and he suckled my nipples, rolling his tongue over the tender surface.
“Now, Emily.”
I wanted to tell him to wait, but the truth was I couldn’t. I put my hand between us, took his cock, and guided it inside me. I threw back my head, and he groaned as I pushed him deep, and he fell back against the mattress.
I started moving, and he reached between my legs and circled my * sending my body into a whirlwind of aching yearning that was climbing higher and higher with each stroke.
“Logan.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed harder and faster, my limbs shaking and stiffening.
“F*ck. Now.”
“Wait.” I demanded, and his fingers lost rhythm on my * for a second at my words.
He made a low growling sound in the back of his throat, and then his hips were pushing up, matching mine as he drove inside of me.
I yelled, “Now!”
Logan threw me over onto my back in one motion and then thrust into me several more times—hard. Relentless.
I came hard. Long. And I screamed as I did it.
He was completely still, the veins in his neck throbbing, his cock jerking inside me as he finished coming.
When our eyes met we both knew that tonight was something more than either of us had expected. It was cathartic and powerful. Logan had given me control in a place where I had none. He’d given me the option to say no. He’d given me my dignity back.
He leaned down, and then he was kissing me soft and gentle; it was beautiful, and it was a kiss that had me sighing as he roamed over my mouth lazily.
Logan slipped out of me then went to the washroom where I heard the tap running. When he came back to bed, he instantly pulled me into his side then kissed the top of my head.
He never said anything, and neither did I. We’d always been good with quiet moments, as if we both knew words would only ruin the beauty in the silence.
It was only when I was drifting off when I thought I heard him say, “Dream sweet, Emily.”