Temptation in Texas: Logan and Lauren Read online

  Why in the hell had Jillian told her? Why had she put her in the middle? Lauren was glad they were close, it was always a good thing to love and care for your husband's family. But crap, this was going too far. Knowing about Jillian's marital problems and not being able to tell Logan was ridiculous . . . and bad for her own marriage.

  It put her in a horrible position. Just the memory of the pain and worry on his face was almost enough to send her into hysterics. But God, worried sex was good sex. It was always good between them, always. But the worry in his head had escalated his emotions, and he'd gone freaking caveman on her and they'd had a type of sex that they hadn't had in a long while. And it had been good. She wouldn't deny it. But not so good that she'd want him to suffer for even a minute longer than necessary.

  Lauren put the phone aside as she closed her eyes and let the medication take effect. A memory of how it used to be washed over her. There had been times when the sex had always been like that. Before they were married. Before their relationship had been firmly established. She'd had a cutthroat job in corporate America and she'd had to deal with more men than she liked to think about. She'd had to travel with that job, and even though she hadn't enjoyed it, the money had been good, and she'd needed it. After she and Logan met and started dating, it hadn't taken long for him to realize that she had a life that hadn't included him. Her career was important to her, and she was good at what she did and garnered respect from a lot of people, women and men alike. She made a lot of friends with the women, and with the men . . . well, she got hit up on, more times than she could count.

  Logan had hated her late nights, the business dinners, and the attention she'd received from not only her male co-workers, but her clients as well. But most of all, he hated it when she traveled.

  His annoyance, his possessive personality, had never come across more so than when they were in bed together. He'd sink his hand into her hair and stare down into her eyes and tell her in a rough voice exactly how it was going to be between them. He'd tell her, as he pumped into her, what he would and wouldn't put up with, how she belonged to him and him alone, and just the memory of the way it had been between them sent a low sizzle of heat down her spine, even now.

  How in the hell had she put up with his dominance, when she wasn't a 'roll over and lie down' type of woman, anyway? Because he had her addicted, that's how. No matter how much she berated herself for it, she found him hotly addictive when he went all macho on her. She loved the tone of his voice, she loved the way his fingers grasped her wrists, and she loved the way he pushed inside of her, taking her by storm and holding her hostage within the tight grasp of his arms.

  Crap. Even six years later and with a tension headache, he still did it for her.

  She registered footsteps coming up behind her only a second before his hand landed on her shoulder and he spun her around. "What are you doing in here?"

  With the memories inundating her and his menacing form, covered only in boxer briefs, invading her personal space, she felt a hot, sweet ache begin to build in the pit of her stomach. Their gazes clashed and his nostrils flared as his hand reached out and encapsulated her wrist. His fingers wrapped hotly around her flesh and she knew without a shadow of doubt that she wouldn't be able to break free, even if she'd wanted to. Oh yes! This was exactly how it used to be.

  He studied her for only a moment before snapping, "Answer me."

  A molten river of heat bled through her veins at his tone and from the feel of his grasp on her skin. There were a few things that made his supreme arrogance, his punishing grip, and his harsh words acceptable to her. More than acceptable. Hot. Arousing. Awe- inducing, even six years after they'd started sleeping together. And those things were the gentle swirl of his thumb against her pulse point as he held her so tightly. The slight trace of vulnerability in his voice that told her that his entire happiness hinged on her answer. The way he was so obsessive about making sure she was safe. And the fact that he loved her, worshipped her even, heart, body, and soul.

  Yeah, she'd do just about anything for him. She was crazy about him, and his over-the-top attitude, the way he was, did crazy things to her insides.

  "I'm waiting, Lauren." His other hand sank into her hair and he pulled her body into his, flush against him, their torsos slamming together, aligned for a perfect match, with his superior height looming over her, dominating her where she stood.

  Butterflies hit her stomach and she hoped the answer she was going to give him would be enough. "I have a headache. I needed to take some pills," she said as she indicated with a slight tilt of her head the bottle still sitting on the granite countertop.

  "Are you okay?" His words were gentle, and his concern impacted her the way it always did. She was enticed by his love, mesmerized by the craving to keep her healthy and safe that he couldn't hide.

  "Yes," she said simply.

  His gaze became pointed. "Why do you have a headache?"

  She looked away from him and focused on the refrigerator. "I don't know. It's just tension, I think."

  "Yeah, I bet." His words held sarcasm, which she couldn't miss.

  She took a quick breath and looked up at him again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You're under stress, obviously. Because you're lying to me about something. I guess I ought to be damn glad you're feeling stress, because if you aren't, that means you're used to lying to me."

  Lauren bit her lip and anxiety rushed through her. "Logan, don't."

  "Don't what?" he asked with more than a trace of accusation.

  "Don't start," she answered softly.

  "Fine." His grip on her scalp intensified. "You want to do this tomorrow? I can wait. Come back to bed."

  She hesitated only fractionally, but it was enough to set the predator off in him. His jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth and his expression turned ferocious, an atavistic hunger encompassing his features. He reached down, and with one smooth stroke, boosted her by the hips and lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, and walked with her into the living room, the idea of going back to bed forgotten for the moment.

  He reached the sofa and turned around and dropped down, carrying her with him, and she landed on top, straddled across him.

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he pulled her face to his and took her with his mouth, his tongue sweeping inside and tasting her fully. He kissed her relentlessly, and with one hand kneading her back, he continued to push into her, his tongue mimicking the act of sex. She fell into the kiss, moaning softly.

  He lifted his head from hers and her eyes opened. She found him studying her intensely, his look fevered, smoldering. "Are you okay, baby?" His hand left her spine and slid to her cheek. "Is your head hurting too much? I'll leave you alone if I have to."

  A shiver of response slid through her bloodstream. Oh, God. She loved him so much. He was so sweet to her, so tender, even when she'd upset him. "I never want you to leave me alone. Never, Logan." She slid her fingers over his five o-clock shadow, and felt the roughness of his cheek. His dark brown eyes flared, and his gaze intensified.

  He stood to his feet with one quick movement, and flipped her until she lay on the sofa, her butt on the edge and her legs dangling over the side. Grasping her at the hips, he ripped her panties off and shoved them down her legs. He spread her thighs and pushed between them. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing against her inner thighs. He waited not even a moment, and spread her open, his fingers on the inner folds between her legs. He looked down, and his face became tinged with red, a growl coming low and deep from his throat, and he fell on her like a ravenous animal, licking her and sucking her, all his attention centered on the pleasure he was trying to give her. And the pleasure he was taking from her.

  Lauren was hit with a delirious feeling of arousal, hot and fast, and her world quickly narrowed to Logan's tongue rasping against her hot flesh. His tongue was wet and rough, and he used it against her repeatedly, taking long swipes up and down, and then findi
ng her clit and taking it between his teeth.

  A high-pitched squeal came from the back of her throat, and she sank her fingers into his hair and lifted her hips against his mouth. He retaliated quickly, sinking his middle finger into her, plunging it inside, again and again before shoving it up hard inside of her and swirling it around it a dedicated assault on her senses.

  She tried to stop it, she tried to make it last, but she had no control and her eyes glazed over as she began to come. She came hard and fast, quakes shaking her body as the depth of the orgasm hit her.

  He ripped his boxers down and before she could come down from the high he had set her on, he sank inside of her, one long hard thrust joining them together. He held still inside her a moment and let her ride out the rest of her orgasm before moving. And then he began thrusting inside of her, short, stabbing thrusts that quickly brought her to the edge again.

  She clung onto his shoulders as he held himself over her, and when she opened her eyes, his were hot on hers. "I won't share you, understand me? I'll never let anybody near you." His eyes were hot, fierce, inflexible. "You're mine. You'll always be mine."

  "Yes, babe. And you're mine. Nobody touches you either. It goes both ways."

  At the reassurance, his eyes closed and all his concentration seemed to focus on the point where they were connected. He stroked her with firm motions, going deeper, and then deeper still, until Lauren didn't know where he stopped and she began. He surged inside of her, suddenly becoming larger and harder and his thrusts came faster and rougher in orgasm. A keening wail sounded in the room, and she was dimly aware that the sound was coming from her throat as she came again. For him. With him.

  ****

  Lauren woke up in their bed and couldn't remember how she had gotten there. Of course, she could guess, and she heard the water running in the shower before she even opened her eyes. The sunlight seemed to be coming in brightly from the windows and as she opened her eyes, she realized it had to be later than she normally woke up. She'd had a rough night. She'd had a great night in bed with Logan, but the anxiety and stress she was feeling hadn't gone away, and sleep had evaded her until the dawn hours.

  The water turned off, and a few minutes later, Logan walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his hips and another one in his hand, running it roughly through his hair. "Get up, babe." His words were rough again this morning and she knew he was still unhappy. And who the hell could blame him?

  She smiled at him and tried to gentle him from his sour mood. "Get up? I thought this was the place you always want me to be."

  He smiled back, but it was mirthless and his eyes were troubled. "You need to get up and get ready. We're catching a flight in two hours." His words were inflexible. They stated a fact and she knew immediately that she wasn't going to get a vote.

  Her smile dropped and she sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to her naked form. "A flight?"

  "Yeah."

  "Mind telling me where we're going?" She asked as nicely as she could manage.

  "The Bahamas."

  "The Bahamas." She repeated flatly. "Why? Since when?"

  "Since I made the reservations last night. Now get up, I don't want to be late." His tone was inflexible.

  "Logan, don't you have to work today? You can't just expect me to leave at the drop of the hat and be ready in what, an hour?"

  "Forty-five minutes. And if you're not ready, I'll pick you up and carry you out of the house butt-ass-naked, don't think I won't. So you need to quit talking and start moving, got it?"

  Lauren studied him for the space of three seconds until she realized that he was dead serious. If she wasn't ready, he'd drag her out of here kicking and screaming. And crap. He wasn't going to have to drag her, because she wanted to go. A long weekend in The Bahamas? Hell, yes.

  She jumped up and flew to the bathroom and showered and washed her hair in under ten minutes. When she came out, he was throwing his clothes into a duffel. He walked into the bathroom to gather his toiletries, and said, "Just a carry-on. We're not going to check any luggage. All you need are a couple of pairs of shorts and a swimsuit. Maybe a sundress or something. If you need anything when we get there, you can buy it."

  Lauren glanced at the clock. She had roughly thirty minutes left to fix her hair, make-up and to pack whatever she could manage. Thank God she'd done all the laundry the day before.

  ****

  The flight was on time and went without a hitch. Once they boarded, the frantic morning caught up with them and they napped for a while. Lauren woke to Logan's hand running up and down her leg, making lazy circles under the hem of her sundress. He ordered mimosas and they sipped them, holding hands. She'd had to get up once and use the facilities, and even though they sat in first class and were only feet from the restroom, Logan stood to his feet and escorted her there and waited for her to come out. Did he think something would happen to her within the confines of the airplane?

  They sat back down, and after the flight attendant brought them a blanket at Logan's request, he spread it out over them and pulled her head onto his shoulder. She let the glow from the champagne and the warmth from his hand on her thigh slide down and sizzle through her system. She forced everything from her mind that was even remotely upsetting, and focused on the one thing that made her so happy.

  Logan.

  This trip was so unlike him. Logan wasn't spontaneous in any way, shape or form. He was the consummate planner. He planned out everything to the nth degree. Sometimes it made her crazy, he was so anal. But damn, they had the cleanest garage in the neighborhood. Her girlfriends couldn't believe what a clean freak he was, and everything, absolutely everything, had a place. He'd accused her of taking his things a few times when he couldn't find something exactly where it was supposed to be, and although she'd denied it the few times it had happened, damned if he hadn't been right. She'd realize it when she found the object he was looking for somewhere that absolutely made her guilty, like on her vanity or someplace like that.

  Yeah. He was organization personified, and a spontaneous trip like this wasn't anywhere in his psyche. This was only happening because he was upset . . . and his being upset was upsetting to her. She reached down and squeezed the hand on her thigh and turned her head so she could see into his eyes. He was looking down at her, and emotion, strong and intense, glowed from the dark brown orbs. She cleared her throat. "I love you."

  He hesitated a moment. "Do you?"

  "You know I do," she responded softly.

  "Hmm. A couple of days ago, I knew you did. But now. . . not so much."

  That response tore at her insides. "Logan. Don't say that."

  He stared at her steadily. "Something's up with you."

  "What do you want me to say?"

  "I want you to tell me what you're hiding from me."

  Lauren studied him; his emotional upheaval was easy to read. It cut her deeply that he was unhappy, and knowing that it was her fault made it doubly hard to take. Abruptly, she realized that now that they'd left home, she should be safe telling Logan the truth. He wouldn't be able to get in his car and drive to Jillian's house and threaten her husband. Lauren didn't have to wait the entire three days that she'd promised Jillian. The relief was all-consuming. She so desperately wanted to put Logan out of his misery and now she could, this very second. "I have been keeping a secret from you and I'm so sorry."

  He stared back at her, the lines of his face becoming rigid and Lauren didn't give him anytime to get even angrier. "But it doesn't have anything to do with me, babe." She touched his cheek, and felt tears well in her eyes. "I'd never in a million years do anything to hurt you. We're solid, I promise."

  Relief, immediate and fierce came from his eyes as they held hers. His hand reached up and grabbed hers. He linked his fingers with hers so tightly that the blood drained from their hands and their knuckles turned white. "Who the hell were you talking to then? And why the fuck didn't you tell me this last night?" he asked quickly, in a wh
ispered, angry hiss.

  Lauren took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "You're not going to like the answer. You're going to be upset."

  His eyes flared. "Quit stalling, Lauren. Spit it out."

  She swallowed hard. "Steve is messing around on Jillian."

  Logan was quiet for so long that Lauren began to think he hadn't heard her, but that was impossible. His shoulders became rigid, and the accusation she read in his eyes rendered her helpless. Why would he be looking at her as if it were her fault? Shouldn't his anger at her have disappeared and been redirected toward Steve?

  His mouth flattened. "So why'd you put me through hell last night? Why didn't you tell me? You knew I was worried . . . and you fucking let me worry?"