Eclipse of the Heart

chapter 21

Logan pushed his hands up under Amanda's long-sleeved t-shirt, and clutched her when he discovered she wasn't wearing a bra. "Jesus, woman," he breathed. His thumbs feathered over her nipples, expertly. She had to bite back a cry. He might not do emotions, but he sure as heck did sex well.

She reached for his belt, pushed the end of it backwards through the loop, and yanked open the catch. With a whispering sound, the leather escaped the buckle. Logan's thighs tightened. His lips parted and his breath hissed through them.

The wool of his trousers was soft beneath her fingers, the button hard, an impediment. She fumbled.

Logan brushed aside her hands. "I'd better do that."

He moved quickly, unbuttoning, unzipping, pulling himself forth.

She stared. "Logan—"

His hands flexed on his thighs, as if he wanted to grab her and force her down.

"You don't have to do this, Mandy," he said, his voice deep and raw, his eyes still haunted.

She sighed. He could never be hers. She knew it. But he was irresistible. She bent her head and took him in.

He groaned immediately, and stretched out his legs around her. His hands clasped the back of her head, holding her hair back and she knew he wanted to watch.

Her body was flooded with arousal as he filled her mouth, hot and hard and stretching her until everything within her tensed up in anticipation. She clutched his base with one hand and delved for his balls with the other.

He continued groaning, pulsing strongly within her. She tasted his essence.

Within seconds, his balls were pulled up, close to her mouth. His hands were tight on her head, in her hair. He wasn't forcing her, but she felt the sting, and it excited her.

She looked up to make eye contact, and then sucked all the way up his length, letting him watch her mouth on him. He cursed under his breath as his knees tightened around her shoulders, holding her in an unbreakable grip.

"Christ, Mandy," he muttered. "You're killing me."

She pressed down and down. He was more than she could handle, but she'd die of bliss trying. She would never admit to anyone how much it aroused her to hear and see the signs of his pleasure— the sounds he made, the way he flexed his hands in her hair, the tensing of his thighs.

She refused to think about her motivation. Why was she so determined to alleviate his pain? Why had she forsworn her own rule not to become sexually involved with him?

It didn't matter.

He was alone, and she would do what she could to ease his loneliness.

She sucked and savored, slow sometimes, faster at others. Until he urged her, "Just fast now, Mandy. Fast." His harsh breaths turned to panting.

Would he finish in her mouth? She tensed, waiting for the deluge. Suddenly, he yanked himself out and stood up, his cock bobbing. She experienced a moment of complete disorientation. "Logan?"

"I want you," he said harshly. "Come." He pulled up his pants, grabbed her hand and headed down the hallway. When they reached his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Get undressed," he said.

Amanda hesitated, put off by his abruptness. She felt cheap, undressing like this casually, as if she were the paid escort she had sworn not to be. There was no romance in this practical disrobing. It was merely business that had to be performed before the business they intended to get down to. Of course, what they had between them wasn’t romance, so how could she expect him to behave in a romantic manner?

She had initiated sex, nothing more. He hadn’t agreed to pretend he cared for her, never mind loved her. She was being foolish, and if she tried to express any of this angst, he would have every right to be annoyed. It was only natural for two people planning to have sex to take off their clothes.

Her heart pounded unnaturally as she stood there, looking at him. Standing there in unbuckled pants, and a partially opened shirt, he upended her world. His broad chest was lightly covered with black hair, but she could still see his brown nipples centered in his perfectly formed chest muscles. Those nipples were sharply peaked. The realization made her fascination grow and she felt her eyes almost involuntarily following the line of dark hair that bisected his flat stomach until it disappeared beneath his partially opened pants. Yes, he was still aroused; there could be no mistaking that fact.

He stopped unbuttoning his shirt. "Have you changed your mind?" he asked calmly.

"I don’t know if I can do this, after all," she whispered. "It’s so cold."

"Sorry," he said. "I’m used to telling women what to do."

"Of course. When you're paying, you call the shots."

His eyes narrowed. "This is not a commercial transaction, Amanda. Let me also point out that you were the one who started this."

Her lip wanted to tremble. How had this gone so wrong? "I wanted to do something for you, Logan. Then, somehow, it turned into you dragging me down the hall and bossing me around." She knew she was on the verge of unreasonableness - she had started this - but she couldn't seem to continue.

His gray gaze watched her coolly. "Most women like it when I boss them around. To be honest, it seems the more I order a woman around, the more she likes it."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I am not most women!"

He stilled, like a lion in the moment before he pounces on his prey. Watchful. Unmoving. Evaluating his victim.

Then he changed direction. Like the clever predator he was, he adopted a new approach to get what he wanted. Even as she recognized his methods, she was helpless before them.

"You're right," he said softly. "You are not most women." He resumed unbuttoning his shirt, drawing it off and dropping his pants. He stood naked before her. "I shouldn't have interrupted what you were trying to do. I shouldn't have tried to take control."

He strode toward his bed, gloriously unconcerned with his nudity. "I'm going to lie down here, and let you do exactly what you want." He stretched out on the bed.

Amanda tried hard not to stare, though she feared she mostly failed. "What if I don't want to do anything?"

"I'll be disappointed," he said, still in that calm, unthreatening voice. "But I'll survive." He even managed that half-smile that always undid her.

She took two steps toward the bed. "You're diabolical. You know that?"

"I'm totally at your mercy. What more do you want?" He crossed his arms behind his head. "I'll keep my hands right here. While hoping that you're planning to start taking off those clothes. I feel horribly disadvantaged here."

"You feel no such thing."

Her tough words were in direct contrast to the hot melting inside of her. She reached out and touched what nature had designed him to display so blatantly.

"Your clothes," he said. His eyes met hers. "I'm begging here."

She smiled. And discarded her shirt and bra. She watched his chest rise and fall as he struggled to control his breathing. She leaned down and licked him again, slowly, enjoying his taste and his warmth.

His whole body jerked. "Mandy," he whispered. His hands moved into her hair.

She stood up and shimmied out of her skirt as his gaze burned her.

"Panties!"

She hooked a finger in the side of her underpants and peeled them down her hips, down her long legs, until they hit the floor. Then she stepped daintily out of them. She knew exactly what she was doing now. Sexual power roared through her as she saw the effect she was having on him. He didn't love her, but he definitely wanted her.

When she was free of all her clothes, she placed her right knee on the bed beside his hip. She ran her hands all over the middle part of his torso, everything she could reach—his hard, flat stomach, his hips solid with bone, his muscular thighs.

Last of all, she ran her hands over his eager, bobbing cock, and his round, dark-haired balls. She squeezed gently as he groaned with pleasure.

When she lifted her other leg over his body, giving him an intimate view of herself, she could see that he was nearly crazy with lust. As she was herself.

She rubbed herself over him, once, twice, and then she slowly impaled herself on him. He jerked again, pushing up into her hard, jolting her.

"My God," he said. "That feels so good." His hands grabbed her breasts and he ran his thumbs over her nipples.

She began to rise again, drawing out the move.

Abruptly, a look of pure horror crossed his face.

"Shit," he said. He grasped her hips and yanked her off him. "Condom!"

For one beat, Amanda felt nothing but shock as she lay flung to the side, like an unwanted doll. He hadn't been half as far gone in lust as she'd thought. Even now, he was reaching into a nightstand drawer.

In the next moment, she collected her thoughts. She should be grateful that he wanted to be careful. Even though it wasn't necessary. "I'm on the pill," she said.

He paid no attention to her words. Instead, he tore open a condom. Within seconds, he was back inside her, with him on top this time.

Amanda cried out as pleasure warred with reality.

Her body joined eagerly with his, reaching for the best angle, pressing against his solid hardness. But his actions had driven a spike of reality into her head, reminding her that what they were doing had no meaning beyond the superficial quest for erotic satisfaction.

Clearly, he didn't trust her about being on the pill. In her mind, or maybe in her heart, something hurt. As much as she told herself to enjoy the moment, it was hard to recapture the magic.

Feeling she'd gone too far to stop now, she made no effort to halt the proceedings. Logan noticed the change in her mood quickly. He slowed, and stopped moving, but didn't withdraw.

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "I didn't mean to destroy the mood."

Despite herself, she twitched around him where he'd invaded her. "It's all right."

He tipped up her chin so he could look down into her face. "I don't ever want to have children," he said. His voice was fierce.

Amanda shivered. Did he think she was trying to trick him?

"I told you I was on the pill," she said quietly. "I wouldn't lie to you about something so important."

He nodded. "I'm a careful man."

Not careful enough, a little voice whispered in her ear. If she hadn't been on the pill, she could have gotten pregnant even without an unprotected ejaculation.

He pulled out.

Pleasure shivered over her. That drag of his heated flesh felt good.

She realized he was removing the condom, and she sat up, feeling awkward. "I guess it's my turn to apologize."

He dropped the condom in a trash can and pulled on his pants. "No problem."

She couldn't doubt his determination on the subject of children. His eyes were pools of pain in a tired, strained face. But he wouldn't take even the simple pleasure she could give him, if it would draw him into a potential emotional connection.

Something inside Amanda hurt badly. But she still had a choice to make. Whatever pain had afflicted him tonight was still present. Would she try to alleviate it? Or would she be the kind of person who nursed her own grievances, and pretended she didn't see where she could help?

Not that she was totally noble. Maybe her humming body craved him more than it worried about the heartache that waited for her.

She held out her hand.