“Fuck.” He grunts as his body curls over mine.
A delicious shiver rushes through me as his breath caresses my skin. I close my eyes, welcoming the heat that fills my body. He moves slowly, leisurely, and I growl in frustration, trying to push back into him.
Logan’s large, warm hands cover mine. “Don’t take your hands off that headboard,” he growls into my ear.
His hands skim down my arms, down my back, and grip my hips tightly before slamming into me. Pleasure cascades over me from the rough way he’s filling me. It is too much and not enough all at once. Using my grip on the bed, I push into his thrusts.
“Shit,” he gasps, his fingers digging even harder into my hips.
I hang onto the headboard, panting, every muscle winding tighter. Keeping a steady pace, he thrusts into me, over and over. I can sense my orgasm getting close.
“Logan. Oh, god,” I groan. I am there and so is he. My orgasm rolls through me in waves, making every inch of me tremble in ecstasy. Logan grunts behind me, biting down on my shoulder. Our pace slows, then he collapses onto my back, gently kissing my shoulder and neck.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, unable to answer verbally.
“You can let go of the headboard now,” he chuckles.
I pry my finger from the bed and let Logan lift me, placing me between his legs as he rests against the bed. I love how he can simply pick me up and place me on his lap.
“Are we good, baby?” he murmurs, nuzzling my hair.
“Yeah, we’re good, detective.”
God, I missed him. I never want to be without him again. I turn sideways in his lap, and my hand moves up, hitting the bandage on his shoulder.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt? I mean, of course it hurts. Do you need anything?” I’m rambling, but I hate seeing him hurt.
“I’m fine baby.”
I melt into his arms, laying my head in the crook of his neck. I idly trace my fingers over his abdomen and the scars there.
“Will you tell me how you got these?” I whisper.
I feel him tense under me, his whole body locking up. I wait patiently for his reply, not wanting to push him. Logan exhales slowly, his warm fingers intertwining with mine.
“I was five when it happened. My brother thought it would be a good idea to visit the lake one night. Riley loved doing stuff like that. He was the adventurous one. I made a desperate attempt to talk him out of it, but he refused to budge. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, as if something terrible was about to happen. I had felt it the minute we entered the woods. But I followed anyway, pushing it down to nerves. First the mist rolled in, then I could hear singing. I was the only one who could hear it at first. Riley just shrugged it off, thinking I was making it up. The singing got closer and when Riley realized I was telling the truth, we turned and headed back. With our sense of direction gone, we started to panic, and our hearts raced. With the thickening mist, we couldn’t tell where we were. Riley pulled me quickly through the woods, his fingers gripping mine so tightly that I could feel my knuckles aching. As we ran, I felt something slice through my clothes, leaving these.” Logan runs our linked hands over the scars on his stomach.
“Didn’t see a thing, I only felt it. Riley tried to help me, but he was thrown across the woods several feet. I felt a sharp stinging sensation across my face from whatever it was. Its sweet tormenting voice whispered from all sides, coming from everywhere at once. The mist circled us, it was like it was alive. Which I know sounds crazy. Riley managed to make it back to me, he was apologizing over and over.”
Logan closes his eyes, pain lining his face. My heart is breaking for him, but I stay silent.
“We frantically tried to run away, but the menacing dark shadow blocked our path, knocking me down. It– It snatched Riley away. All I could hear were his screams, they filled the air around me. I was terrified. I couldn’t move, my whole body numb as I lay there on the cold forest floor waiting for death to find me.”
My heart is hammering in my chest so hard I swear it will burst free. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of a five-year-old Logan alone like that. I pull back, my fingers tracing the ridges of his scarred cheek as tears roll down my face.
“I’m so sorry, Logan.”
Logan’s eyes have grown distant, and I know he’s hearing his brother’s cries. I close my eyes and gently press my lips to his. My fingers stroke his face softly as I whisper against his lips, “Logan, come back to me.”
His eyes blink slowly, as if coming out of a trance, and he stares at me. “You were right.”
I feel a wave of confusion sweep over me. “About what?”
“I can sense when shit is going to happen. I see things I can’t explain. I just thought I was seeing shit.”
“Well, technically, you are seeing shit. But you’re not going crazy. It’s there. You’re not imagining it.”
