Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“I didn’t know it was supposed to feel like that.” Probably the wrong words to say. Logan’s ego was going to become huge. As if it hadn’t already been big enough. But she believed in being honest and… “I think I can still feel aftershocks, deep inside.” Little after-flutters of pleasure.
They were in his bed. Tangled sheets around them. The faint scent of sex in the air. There was no part of her body that did not feel owned by him.
And that was such a weird thought to have, but, there it was. He seemed to have marked her. Inside and out.
“Does that mean you’re ready to go again?” Logan rumbled.
He could not be serious. It had barely been like, five minutes. She started to smile at him. But the smile froze when she saw his expression.
Lust.
Her heart thudded hard in her chest.
He’d ditched the condom. Tossed it away in the bathroom, then slid back into the bed with her. He watched her now with his intent gaze, and she realized he was one hundred percent serious.
He wanted to fuck her again. Right then.
No, no, he said that he didn’t fuck his wife. He’d called it making love. Just semantics, of course. Not like he really meant those words. But wouldn’t it be something if he had?
“Did I hurt you?” he asked suddenly.
She shook her head, moving it lightly against the pillow.
“Because if you’re too sore, we don’t have to go again.”
“You really want to fuck me again? Right now?” So soon?
“No, baby.”
Ah. Okay. He had been joking.
“I want to make love to you again. Right now. Or, to be clear, always. Just so you’ll understand where my head is at—and my dick—when I think of you. I will always want to make love to you.”
She had no response. Other than, I want to make love to you, too.
Only she’d thought that making love would be tender and slow and what they’d just done—yes, he had been tender.
So careful with his mouth. With his fingers.
But the absolute need and desire that had thundered through her body as she’d heaved back against him while clinging to that headboard for dear life…
That part had not been tender. The way she’d ridden his cock like she was taming some kind of wild bull? Um, not slow or gentle at all near the end. She’d been pounding down hard against him with all of her might. “Is it always like that, with you?”
“What do you mean?” His hand was on her stomach. Warm. Steady. Strong.
“Do women always go a little crazy when you fuck them?” As soon as the question was out of her mouth, Charlotte wanted to call it back. She didn’t want to know about other women and Logan. “Forget it.”
“I have forgotten them. The only woman who’ll be in my bed from now on—hopefully going quite crazy for me—that’s my wife.”
He’s my husband. We really did it. I married him.
His fingers stretched across her skin. Brushed over her scar.
Her hand flew down and curled around his wrist. An automatic gesture.
“Want to tell me about it?” he asked. All deep and easy.
“I made a mistake.” Her eyes burned, but she blinked quickly. No tears were going to sneak out. “I trusted the wrong person.”
He didn’t push with more questions. Just waited.
Maybe that was why she said, “First mission. I’d been through all the training.
I knew all the risks, but there is something different about actually being in the field.
I’d made a good contact.” Correction, she’d thought that she made a good contact.
“He checked out on paper. Checked out with the CIA’s techs.
I went to meet him around midnight, at a warehouse so that he could give me more intel on a weapons’ dealer that we were after.
” It had been so cold that night. Almost frigid.
Sometimes, she could still feel the cold.
And the blade of the knife sliding into her.
“As soon as I got inside, he came at me with his knife. Sliced me deep even as he confessed that he’d been offered fifty thousand US dollars to kill the spy. ”
“Where was Jamar? Where was your damn backup?”
“He wasn’t my partner then. I met Jamar later. The guy who was my partner back then—he was outside the warehouse. Watching for threats. He didn’t know that the biggest threat was inside, with me.”
Logan’s fingers had stilled over the scar.
“He pulled the knife out of me, and I knew he was going to stab me again. I headbutted him. Drove my knee into his dick. Tripped him even as I was bleeding all over of the place, and we both fell to the floor.” Those savage, silent minutes of fighting replayed through her mind so often.
“I got the knife. I put it in his throat.”
“Good.”
No judgment. Just…
Good.
Then he was sliding down in the bed. “There’s a place I didn’t get to kiss before.”
“Really? Where?” She’d thought that Logan had kissed her everywhere but—
Her scar. His dark head had bent. Logan pressed a soft kiss to her scar.
“Logan.” Again, she had to blink quickly, but he’d already looked up. Had he caught the tears in her eyes before she’d been able to banish them? “You have scars, too.”
“What? This thing?” His fingers slid over his cheek as he shifted back to a position beside her. His head pressed onto the pillow beside hers as he stared into her eyes.
“Yes, that one.” His newest scar. “And the ones on your back. Your side. Your chest.” Logan had seen so much pain over the years.
“Life isn’t always pretty.” He sounded utterly unconcerned. Simply stating a fact. “And sometimes life leaves marks on us all.”
“I want to kiss your marks,” she whispered. He’d kissed hers. Wasn’t it only fair for her to do the same?
“Have the hell at me, sweetheart, you just go right ahead—”
A loud peal of sound cut through his words. She tensed a moment before realizing that peal was the suite’s doorbell. It rang once more. Then…
Hard pounding. Frantic pounding.
“Fuck,” Logan breathed. He leapt from the bed. Yanked on a pair of boxers. “Stay here.”
Um, no. She leapt from the bed, too. She’d never been the hide-from-danger type. Also, she was the spy.
The desperate pounding seemed to get louder.
She yanked on Logan’s discarded shirt. It fell to her knees. She yanked open his nightstand and hauled out a gun. She’d spotted the gun in there when he’d pulled out the condom earlier.
He’d said all of her clothes and toiletries had been brought to the suite.
Charlotte assumed that meant he’d brought her weapons, too, but she hadn’t searched through her bags yet.
She didn’t waste time on a search right then, either.
Logan had already rushed out of the bedroom, and she followed quickly on his heels.
Though she made sure to keep the gun hidden behind her.
“That’s not staying in the bedroom, Charlotte!” Logan had looked back and caught sight of her in the narrow corridor that led to the suite’s den area.
“You’re right. Super astute.”
Frowning, he turned back around and kept stalking forward. She kept following him. In moments, he’d reached the suite’s main door.
The bell pealed again. Someone’s fist also pounded into the door. Way too hard. Logan put his eye near the peephole. “What in the hell…?” He backed up, unlocked the door, and hauled it open.
Three men stood on the threshold. Jake. A very grim-faced Jake. Evans—she recognized the VP of the hotel’s security. And…
Sebastian Shay.
A Sebastian Shay who didn’t look quite as put together as she’d seen him at the previous card games. His clothes were wrinkled. A dark shadow lined his jaw. And she was pretty sure that a bruise darkened his right cheek.
“Saw him nosing around your office area,” Jake rushed to say. “I got Evans, and we pulled him up here.”
Both Evans and Jake had a hand clamped around Sebastian’s shoulders.
“You didn’t pull me,” Sebastian snapped at them.
“I willingly came with you because the whole reason I’m at this hotel is to see Logan!
” He pointed at Logan. “We have to talk, now.” His gaze darted over Logan, then beyond Logan.
To Charlotte. He raised his brows at her.
“Obviously, I interrupted at an inconvenient time, but it can’t be helped. ”
“You bastard.” Logan definitely did not seem pleased to see Sebastian. Understatement. “Why the hell were you nosing around the serving area?”
“What?” Sebastian yanked a hand through his hair. “Dude, I was near your office, trying to find you. Look, I need to have a private conversation—”
“Did you drug Charlotte?” Logan had lunged forward, rushing at Sebastian.
And his tone…
Uh, oh.
She still had the gun behind her. No one had seen it yet.
“Drug her?” Sebastian echoed as he backed up a step. “What? Wait, wait, wait! Look, no, okay? No, I didn’t drug your girlfriend or bodyguard or whoever she’s pretending to be!”
“My wife,” Logan snarled as he grabbed Sebastian and hauled him inside. He shoved the guy against the wall and put his forearm beneath Sebastian’s throat. “Did you drug my wife?”
Sebastian’s eyes got very, very wide.
“He’s not armed,” Evans rushed to say as he came into the suite. “But, boss, we did find something on him that you need to see. Especially before you, say, assault the man.”
Jake lingered in the doorway.
“Jake, you can go,” Logan ordered, without looking his way. “Didn’t I already tell you to head out and throw some balls? That arm doesn’t practice itself.”
“You…you might need me.” Jake straightened his shoulders as he lingered in the doorway.
“I need you to make the Major Leagues.”
“I’m the one who found him!” Jake revealed. “Saw him near your office. Knew I had to get him up here. I told you before, I saw him messing around in the kitchens before Charlotte got drugged.”
Wait. Back up. “That is news to me,” Charlotte said, voice clear and carrying as she advanced on Logan and Sebastian.
Logan turned his head toward her. “Can you put on pants, sweetheart? And maybe a different shirt? Because you look too sexy right now, and I need to be focused on whether or not I kill this guy.” He pushed down harder with his arm.
“Logan!” Sebastian choked out.
“Don’t do it, sir.” Evans sidled toward him. “At least, not until I show you what I found during my search.” He lifted his hand and thrust a wallet toward Logan.
Charlotte edged closer so that she could see that wallet, too. Though it wasn’t really about the wallet. It was about the ID. And the…badge?
“Fuck me,” Logan cursed. Then, “Jake, seriously, get the hell out. You don’t want to be here if I have to kick the shit out of a US marshal.”
“A marshal?” Jake backed up. “You sure? You want me gone?”
“Evans, go with him, now.” Logan’s fierce tone demanded obedience. “Your hands need to stay clean.”
Evans nodded. “I’ll just leave his ID right here.” He dropped the wallet onto a nearby table. “He came with it deliberately, you know. We’ve searched him before and never turned up that ID and badge. He wanted us to know who he really was. He brought it to show us all.”
Logan had not let go of Sebastian.
“Maybe it’s a fake,” Evans mused as he lingered.
“It’s not,” Sebastian bit out. He pushed at Logan’s arm. “Getting…tired of this…”
“Go,” Logan barked at Evans.
Evans and Jake left. The door clicked shut behind them. Charlotte hurried forward and threw the extra lock in position before she moved to stand beside Logan.
“I’m gonna back away,” Logan told Sebastian, voice hard, “but if you make any move to attack me, then you need to know that my wife will take the gun that she’s holding…”
How had he known? She hadn’t thought Logan had even seen her snag it. Oh, well. Since he did know…
Charlotte raised the gun and pointed it at Sebastian. “I believe Logan is referring to this weapon.”
Sebastian cut a frown toward her. Toward the gun. But his gaze hurriedly darted back to Logan.
“She’ll take that gun,” Logan continued in his lethal tone, “and she’ll shoot you between the eyes.”
With those magic words, Sebastian’s shocked gaze flew toward Charlotte once more.
And she could not help herself. Charlotte smiled at him. “Bang.”