Chapter 17 Seven Days in New Orleans #2
Logan backed her toward the king bed, the one with its heavy carved headboard and crisp white sheets already turned down.
When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, he eased her down, following, covering her body with his.
Skin met skin in a slow, electric slide.
His mouth found her throat, her collarbone, then lower—kissing, licking, sucking until her nipples peaked under his tongue and she arched with a soft cry.
His hand drifted between her legs, fingers slipping beneath lace to find her already wet, swollen. He circled her clit with maddening patience, watching her face the whole time—learning every hitch of her breath, every flutter of her lashes.
"Logan—" Her hips lifted, chasing more.
"Not yet," he murmured against her breast. "I want to feel you come apart first."
He peeled the lace away, settled between her thighs, and replaced fingers with mouth.
Slow licks turned firm, then relentless.
Mara’s hands fisted the sheets; her thighs trembled around his head.
When he sucked her clit hard and slid two fingers inside, curling them just right, she shattered—back bowing, name tearing from her throat in a broken moan that echoed off the high ceilings.
He didn’t stop until the aftershocks faded, kissing his way back up her body, tasting her release on his lips when he reached her mouth.
Mara pulled him down, legs wrapping around his waist. "Now," she whispered, voice wrecked. "I need you inside me."
Logan reached for the nightstand, tore open the condom packet with his teeth. She helped roll it on, stroking him until he groaned low in his throat. Then he notched himself at her entrance, eyes locked on hers—dark, intense, full of everything they'd held back for weeks.
He pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, stretching her open until he was seated deep, hips flush to hers. They both stilled, breathing hard, savoring the perfect, overwhelming fullness. Her walls fluttered around him; his cock throbbed inside her.
Then he moved.
Long, rolling thrusts that dragged along every sensitive spot.
Mara met him stroke for stroke, nails scoring his shoulders, heels digging into his ass to pull him deeper.
The bed creaked beneath them; the headboard tapped the wall in steady rhythm.
Sweat slicked their skin. The wet, intimate sounds of their bodies joining filled the room, raw and unfiltered.
Logan hooked her leg over his shoulder, changing the angle until he hit that spot that made lightning streak through her. She cried out louder this time, shameless, the sound mingling with distant saxophone notes drifting up from Bourbon Street below.
"God—Logan—right there—"
He kept the pace relentless, hips snapping, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her thigh. His mouth crashed to hers, swallowing her gasps, tasting her moans.
"Come again for me," he growled against her lips. "Let me feel you squeeze me."
The command tipped her over. The orgasm hit harder than the first—white-hot, consuming, her body clenching around him in pulsing waves. Logan followed with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt as he came, hips stuttering, every muscle taut as he spilled inside her.
They collapsed together, chests heaving, limbs tangled. He stayed inside her a long moment, softening slowly, kissing her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
Finally he eased out, disposed of the condom, then gathered her close again. The open window let in the humid night air—jasmine, spilled beer, faint trumpet notes, laughter from the street below.
Afterward, they lay tangled in hotel sheets with the sounds of the Quarter drifting through the open window. Logan traced patterns on her shoulder and Mara felt more content than she had in years.
"That was..." Logan started.
"Yeah," Mara agreed. "It really was."
He laughed and pulled her closer. "Stay tonight. Don't go back yet."
"I wasn't planning on it." She kissed his chest. "We have the whole week, remember?"
"Best week of my life so far."
"It's only Sunday."
"Doesn't matter. Already the best."
The week passed in a blur of moments that felt both infinite and too short.
They fell into an easy rhythm. Mornings started late, tangled in hotel sheets with coffee delivered to the room and no rush to be anywhere.
When they finally ventured out, it was for breakfast at small cafés where locals knew Mara by name, or afternoons exploring the Garden District with Logan's hand warm in hers. But mostly, they stayed in.
Logan's hotel room became their world. They'd order room service and eat sprawled across the bed, talking for hours about everything and nothing.
Mara would trace the scars on his chest while he told her stories about his team.
Logan would run his fingers through her hair while she explained how Shadow Veil had started, careful to keep details vague but honest about what drove her.
"Tell me about the first person you saved," Logan said one afternoon, both of them lying in bed watching shadows move across the ceiling.
"Her name was Sarah. Sixteen. Taken from a bus stop in Houston." Mara's voice was soft. "I was barely trained. Terrified I'd mess it up. But we got her out. And when she looked at me in that moment after, when she realized she was safe, that's when I knew this was what I was supposed to do."
Logan pulled her closer. "You're amazing. You know that?"
"You're not so bad yourself." She kissed his shoulder. "Tell me something you've never told anyone else."
He was quiet for a long moment. "After my dad died, I almost got out.
Put in my paperwork. Was done with all of it.
But then we got deployed and I watched Bulldog pull a family out of a collapsed building.
Watched him risk everything for people he'd never met.
And I realized I couldn't walk away from that.
From being the person who shows up when no one else will. "
"That's why we fit," Mara said softly. "We're both too stubborn to quit the hard things."
They learned each other's bodies and hearts in equal measure.
Logan discovered Mara was ticklish just below her ribs.
Mara found out Logan talked in his sleep about missions he couldn't remember in the morning.
He learned she preferred his weight on top of her, the grounding pressure making her feel safe.
She discovered he needed gentleness after, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin while his breathing settled.
They ventured out for live music on Frenchmen Street, where they'd dance until their feet hurt. Logan would spin her and dip her and make her laugh until she couldn't breathe. Then they'd stumble back to the hotel, kissing in doorways and against walls until they finally made it upstairs.
One evening they took a sunset walk along the river, the Mississippi dark and quiet beside them. Logan had his jacket around her shoulders and Mara fit perfectly against his side.
"I don't want this to end," he said quietly.
"Then we don't let it." She looked up at him. "Long distance is hard but we can make it work."
"You really think so?"
"I know so." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Logan, I don't let people in. Not like this. Not ever. But you're different. This is different. And I'm not ready to walk away from it just because geography makes it complicated."
He kissed her right there on the riverwalk, deep and thorough and full of promise. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "I'm falling for you. I need you to know that."
"I'm falling for you too." She took his hand. "Come on. Let's go back."
Wednesday morning, Logan's phone rang while they were still in bed. He groaned and reached for it, squinting at the screen. "It's my CO."
Mara sat up, pulling the sheet around herself. "You should take it."
She watched him walk to the window, phone pressed to his ear. The conversation was brief. When he hung up, his expression was complicated.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah. He's just checking in." Logan sat back down on the bed. "Also reminded me that my leave is up Saturday. I need to be back on base Sunday morning."
Saturday. Two more days. Mara had known it was coming but hearing it out loud made her chest tighten. "Okay."
"Okay? That's all you've got?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you'll miss me. That this week has meant something. That you want to figure out how to keep doing this even when I'm in North Carolina and you're here." Logan took her hand. "I need to know I'm not alone in this."
Mara pulled him back down to the bed, straddling his hips and looking down at him with complete seriousness.
"Logan Reed, I don't do casual. I don't let people see me the way I've let you see me.
This week has been one of the best weeks of my life and the thought of you leaving makes me want to find a way to keep you here. "
"But you can't."
"But I can't. You have a job. A life. A team that needs you. I have the same." She leaned down and kissed him softly. "But that doesn't mean this ends. We make it work. Video calls every night. Texts when we can. Visits when you get leave. Whatever it takes."
"That's going to be hard."
"Everything worth having is hard." She kissed him again, deeper this time. "But I'm willing to try if you are."
"I'm willing to try." He flipped them over, so she was underneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress in exactly the way she needed. "More than willing. I'm all in on this, Mara. On you. On us."
"Good. Me too." She wrapped her legs around him. "Now stop talking and show me."