Eclipse of the Heart

chapter 22

Logan took Mandy's hand, knowing he was a fool, but helpless to reject the comfort she offered. He'd had a terrible day. Grief and hopelessness had flooded every cell of his psyche. Surely he was entitled to a few minutes of the forgetfulness he'd find in Mandy's body.

But he couldn't hurt her further. She'd gotten a peek at the barrenness in his soul. Still, she offered herself. He was overwhelmed by the selflessness of her gesture.

She was not one to give her body carelessly, or randomly. He'd seen the affection in her eyes when she looked at him. He knew it wouldn't take much nurturing on his part for that affection to blossom into something more significant. But he also knew himself. He couldn't give her the emotion all women wanted in return for sharing their bodies.

So he would have to be as considerate as possible in taking advantage of her generosity.

He knelt beside her on the bed, and she flung her arms around his neck.

He removed them.

"Let me do this, Mandy." He pressed his lips to hers, gently, holding back when he only wanted to plunder her.

She kissed him back sweetly, letting him take the lead. He thrust into her mouth, needing that much at least. She opened wider, welcoming him. For a fraction of a second, he lost control, moving heavily over her, thrusting his leg between hers.

Lust roared through his body in a firebomb that almost blasted him back into cave man status, an animal, seeking pleasure regardless of the vessel.

But he'd maintained self-discipline for too long. He grabbed the thread of reason he still held and slowly, slowly, he regained control of his actions. He forced his mind to reclaim control of his body. He pulled back from her warm and wet mouth, a proxy for what he really wanted. Instead, he pressed kisses to her tender neck, moving down to her shoulder. He couldn't resist nipping her, and he turned her head to mark her beneath her ear.

Her limbs began to toss against the navy bed covering. He flung his leg over hers, holding her in place, feeling an unworthy male satisfaction that he could control her thus. He wanted her trembling and eager, begging for his body.

He lifted his mouth so he could focus on her breasts. One plump swell filled each hand and he played with them, ignoring her nipples until she arched her back, pushing them toward his mouth and he knew it was time to turn up the heat.

He dropped a kiss directly on one nipple, and then the other. Her moan shot heat throughout him. He settled in to lick and suck those nipples until he knew he'd drawn a coiled wire of lust from them to her core.

Her skin was so soft, her scent so enticing. He could have filled his mouth with her tits forever. But her need was growing, and his was pressing. He began to kiss his way down her body until he'd traveled below her belly button. Then he shifted to move between her legs, easing her thighs apart, feasting his eyes on the bounty spread before him.

He moved his thumbs to her opening, held them there for a moment, enjoying the view while she squirmed and murmured incoherently. When he couldn't wait any longer, he bent his head, licked deep inside her, and moved upward.

His tongue found the button he wanted to please, and there was no secret of her pleasure when he found it. Her hips thrust off the bed immediately, as she gave a low cry. "Logan!"

He couldn't answer, except with the finger he thrust into her. God, she was hot, and wet, and everything he'd ever wanted.

The thought rushed by, shocking him for a moment, but his mind was closing down as her climax clearly was ratcheting up.

She strained against him, whimpering, and he alternated licking with sucking, changing up his motion as soon as he felt her orgasm on the verge of erupting. As much as he wanted her to explode so he could plunge into her, he also needed to be sure he gave her an unforgettable experience.

He played her like a symphony, drawing in one sensation and then another, allowing each to build and almost crest, before drawing down to a quieter interlude, and then building again. Each peak rose taller than before, each rest fell on a higher plateau. He wanted the final climax to reach a crescendo in which nothing existed but an explosion of pure bliss.

When she was trembling and panting, when he knew he'd reached the limit of his restraint, he thrust another finger inside her, grabbed her hips with his free hand, and held her tight as she convulsed fiercely against him.

When he'd rolled on another condom and plunged inside her, he was secretly thrilled that she continued to tremble against him.

"Don't stop," she cried out. Her fingernails scored his back. "Keep doing exactly what you're doing."

"I'm the son of two musicians," he managed. "I know how to maintain a rhythm."

He pounded steadily into her, determined to bring her to another peak. But the more he was surrounded by her voice, her scent, and most especially, the soft curves of her body, the more his control slipped. Until he was driving into her without thought for anything but his own skyrocketing pleasure.

The cave man came back, and conquered him.

Amanda couldn't move while she waited for her heartbeat to calm down. Wow, that had been a mistake, but a delicious one. It was hard to regret it and she probably wouldn't be unhappy about it, except for the fact that Logan was, once again, distancing himself from her. He rolled off her, pulled off the condom, and leaned over the side of the bed to dispose of it. His behavior hurt more than it should, because it was nothing new. No matter how many times they had sex – she couldn't call it making love – he would always move away from her in the aftermath.

There was no post-coital glow with Logan.

With a sudden blur of motion, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Better to be the one who left. Too late, she realized she was naked, and he was watching. He might not want to touch her after sex, but he didn't mind having his gaze all over her.

She scurried over to the closet to look for something to throw on. The drawer where she'd placed her nightwear was ajar, but she knew what she'd find there. Rosie, in some kind of freakish attempt to play matchmaker, had packed only the nightgowns they'd purchased at L'Agent Provocateur. Amanda wasn't in the mood to issue that kind of invitation.

But she didn't have anything else to wear. With a sigh, she pulled out the least objectionable piece – a peach negligee that at least fell to her mid-thigh and didn't have provocative cutouts. It was semi-transparent, but the room was dark, and she'd be sure to stay on her side of the bed.

She pulled it over her head and sauntered casually back to bed. Unfortunately, she could feel his gaze on her for the entire trip.

"I like your lingerie." His deep voice caressed her.

"Good thing," she said airily. "You paid for it."

Even in the dim room, his white teeth flashed when he grinned. "I'm happy to see my money spent so wisely," he said.

"Rosie packed my suitcase. I guess this was her attempt to be funny." Amanda was determined to be light and cool, to match his distance with her own reserve.

"I'll have to give her a raise." Logan turned and propped himself on one elbow as Amanda climbed into bed, being careful to stick to the edge of the mattress.

"You should give her one anyway," she said. But she was thinking of Rosie's words about the lingerie making her feel sexy. There was something very sensuous about fine silk brushing over her naked skin. Or maybe it was the heated look in Logan's eyes that was making her body soften, and yearn, and demand that she move close enough to rub up against his hard frame.

She resisted.

His gaze fastened onto her breasts, and she was helpless to stop her response. Her nipples poked through the thin peach silk.

Logan patted the bed. "What are you doing way over there?"

"You don't have another bed." She deliberately pretended to misunderstand him. "Mrs. MacDonald said it was okay for me to sleep here."

"Don't play games, Mandy."

"Do you mean to tell me that since I've succumbed to you once—?"

"Or twice," he interrupted, smiling. "Not that I'm counting."

"Excuse me!" She tried to be icy, but she could feel her nipples were still betraying her. "If I may finish a sentence, I hope you don't mean to say that I can never refuse you again."

He shook his head. "I'm just asking that you be honest about your—ah, interest." He reached across the cold bed and drew his forefinger along the top of the nightgown. Her body erupted in goose bumps. She wanted his rough, warm touch to move inside the top of the nightgown and play with her breasts like he had earlier.

He ventured under the silk, and she had to catch her breath.

"Sorry." She faked a quick yawn, hoping it might hide her pounding heart. "Time for Cinderella to turn back into a pumpkin."

"Wasn't it the coach that turned back into a pumpkin?"

"You know girly fairy tales?"

"I used to read them to my—" He halted, abruptly, his eyes darkening.

Amanda held her breath. "Your what, Logan?"

"Never mind." He reached behind himself, pressed something, and a soft light was diffused from beneath the top of the brushed nickel headboard. When he turned back to Amanda, he was much closer than he had been. His shoulders gleamed with sculpted muscle, and she felt small lying flat on her back while all that hard masculinity loomed over her.

"We have much better things to do than revisit the past," he said. He hooked a finger in the center of her heart-shaped gown. Before she could imagine what he might do, he tore the gown right down the middle. By the time Amanda gasped, the sides had been laid open and she was naked before him once more, framed in silk, feeling like a pagan offering.

"This was brand new!" she protested. But her real protest was against the tension she saw in him, the subdued anger over something in his past that he'd just displaced onto her gown. Why wouldn't he tell her what tormented him so?

"You just told me I paid for it," he said absently. His eyes were busy devouring her. "Get up on your hands and knees."

She suddenly noticed a fresh condom in his hands. "I don't want to have sex again!"

"You will." He wrapped an arm around her waist, flipped her onto her stomach and the next thing she knew, she was on her hands and knees. The bastard! She tried to fall flat on the bed, not for any good reason except to thwart him. But his arm held her securely.

"Calm down," he said. "Unless you like it rough."

"I don't like it any way at all when I'm being manhandled by an oaf." Her hair hung down around her face, until he scooped it up and held it like a ponytail.

"I'll calm you then." He leaned over and pressed his mouth to the back of her neck. She had to bite back a moan.

"Feels good, does it?" His deep voice was rich with satisfaction.

"No!"

He kept kissing her, using his teeth, and her body betrayed her. Her hips pushed back against him where he was pressed against her.

"Not yet, sweetheart." He laughed.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I want to," he murmured. His words hummed against her ear just before he licked her there. "And you shouldn't lie about sex."

"I'm not lying." Was she? "I don't like sex when it's just—"

"Just what?" His panting breath caressed her ear. "Just hot enough to scorch the sheets?"

'Cold' was the word. As cold as lies, or colder. Because his refusal to communicate in any meaningful way left her feeling exactly as she imagined a paid escort felt. Physically satisfied, but emotionally devastated.

Her mind was losing control of her thoughts as he nipped her ear, and pinched her nipple.

"Are you ready," he asked.

She couldn't answer. She refused to admit the need she had for him.

He gave a low chuckle. "I can do this all night." His fingers moved down her body, slowly, and she knew where he was going.

She managed to grab his hand, halting its descent.

"Mandy," he said, his voice gruff. "The sexual chemistry we have is special. But it's just sex. Don't make more of it because I can't give you more."

She needed to say something, to grab the thought hovering just out of her reach.

He flipped her onto her back and adjusted his position so he was poised right at the entrance to her body. The broad tip of his penis teased her, sliding in just enough to make her catch her breath.

"Yes?" he asked. He pulled out the fraction of an inch. "Or no?" He waited.

"Damn you." She grabbed his buttocks and pulled him into her.

When she woke up in the morning, he was gone.

But the thought which had been teasing her was in the forefront of her mind, screaming in neon-bright words. She'd started this interlude to provide him comfort from whatever pain had afflicted him yesterday. But he'd ended it by insisting there was nothing but sex between them. The emotional comfort she'd offered had been thoroughly rejected.