Catch of a Lifetime (20 page)

   He pressed himself against her and there was no mis taking what need he was talking about.

   Angel was all for meeting needs.

   "Roll over," he whispered.

   "Roll over?"

   "Yes. Over." Logan nudged her hip. "There's some thing I've been dying to do."

   She couldn't imagine what it was, but the look in his eyes—and the insistent poking at her hip—encouraged her to find out.

   She rolled over.

   For a moment, nothing happened. Then she heard the hitch in Logan's breathing and felt the barest brush of her hair against the base of her spine.

   "God, Angel, I've been imagining this for so long…"

   "We haven't known each other that long."

   "Are you sure about that? I feel as if I've always known you." He kissed just above the base of her spine. "Your bruise is gone."

   She stiffened. "My bruise?"

   "Uh huh." When he kissed the exact spot, she knew

what he meant. That was no bruise. "You must have hurt yourself getting into the boat."

   Actually, she hadn't, but she certainly wasn't going to tell him that he'd seen the royal birthmark that faded when she was out of the water.

   "I was looking forward to kissing it and making it better." He did anyway—both kiss it and make every
thing
better.

   It was her turn for her breath to whoosh out. "You're doing a good job."

   His lips curved against her skin. "You haven't seen anything yet."

   She shivered in anticipation.

   Then she shivered again when he kissed the base of her spine.

   Then again when he moved to the small of her back.

   And again, each time he kissed another vertebra, moving up her back, all the while circling the tips of her hair along the top of her butt and along the cleft.

   Then his finger followed, stroking all the way down and between her legs just as his lips reached that sensi tive area on the back of her neck.

   Angel's lips fell open as she tried to take in more air. She tried. Really, really tried, but when his fin ger skimmed through her swelling folds to find the very center of her, she panted out what was left in her lungs.

   Then his lips fluttered to her ear and he played with the lobe, his breath sensitizing her skin even more, and Angel didn't care if she never breathed again.

   "You feel so incredible," he whispered huskily.

   Didn't she know it.

   She tried to respond, but that lack of air made it im possible, so she drew in as big a breath as she could possibly manage—if only so she wouldn't pass out and miss one moment of this.

   Then he nudged her leg up and over his hip, his fin gers playing there, finding every nerve ending, and she found enough breath to exhale.

   "Like this?" He slid one finger inside her.

   She nodded. A groan escaped… which was a major accomplishment with the sensations he'd created inside her.

   "I know something you'll like even more."

   She managed to turn her head enough to get a glimpse of his face. "I don't think that's possible."

   He smiled, satisfied and cocky. "Trust me."

   She did.

   That simple; she did trust Logan.

   Sliding his finger from her to press against her aching center, Logan rolled her onto her back, one leg splayed across his hips and he sat up to watch.

   Open and aroused and exposed, Angel had never felt sexier. She pulled her knee up a little higher, her leg stroking him.

   It was Logan's turn to groan.

   Then he kissed her hip bone.

   Oh she knew what his intentions were…

   She couldn't stop the shiver. Or the rush of pleasure that swept over her and made her swell even more against his touch.

   His eyes met hers, a question in them, but… not really.

   They both knew the answer.

He skimmed his lips low across her belly.

Lower.

   Then somehow, with a move she wasn't even sure she saw, Logan was there. Between her thighs, his fin gers spreading her and his tongue claiming that part of her that was aching and begging for his attention.

   Angel's other leg fell to the side as she offered herself to him.

   Logan took. And took and took.

   And gave and gave.

   His hands slid beneath her to position her at just the right angle, his thumbs separating the folds, giving him unlimited access to every aching, needing, throbbing part of her.

   His tongue swirled and Angel arched on the bed, grasping for the sheets, the mattress, a pillow… any thing. Anything to grab onto as some semblance of real ity while his tongue took her higher.

   Aloft in a wave of sensation, her hips rose with each stroke of his tongue.

   Then he slid one finger inside her—maybe two—and Angel felt the rush to the end begin.

   Only Logan wasn't willing to end it.

   He kissed the inside of her thigh, and her eyes flew open. She looked down at him, there between her legs, a satisfied smile on his face.

   "Told you to trust me."

   She could only nod.

   Well, and raise her hips. She wasn't finished.

   Nor was Logan, thank the gods. He lowered his head and began his assault all over again, this time nudg ing her legs farther apart with his shoulders, changing the angle, his tongue stroked her, and Angel knew it wouldn't be long.

   It wasn't.

   A few more strokes and Angel soared over the edge. She came against his mouth with a quaking, shudder ing rush of pleasure and feeling and love that left her drained yet utterly and wholly complete.

   So this was what it was like to make
love.

   So very different from having sex, and something she could no longer live without.

   Somehow she'd have to make this work with Logan. Even though it meant telling him the truth—

   She'd deal with that later.

   "You awake?" he whispered against her belly, kiss ing his way slowly—too slowly—up her body.

   She opened one eye—all she could manage. "Get up here, you. It's your turn."

   Logan kissed her navel and dipped his tongue inside, one eyebrow arched her way.

   "Again—I love the way you think, lady…"

A RIBBON OF MOONLIGHT RIPPLED ACROSS THE PLANK FLOOR as if it were the calm night sea. Angel slid from beneath the sheets, too much going on in her mind to be able to sleep.

   The clock's soft red glow said two twenty-seven. She needed to think and should have enough time to go for a swim, then get her legs back. She'd have to use the hair dryer in the guesthouse, but hopefully, she'd be able to crawl back beside Logan's warm body before he woke.

   She smiled. Maybe crawling back in would wake him.

   Her body tingled yet again, and goose bumps appeared—and they had nothing to do with the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan. They'd made beautiful music together, she and Logan. A symphony of sound and touch and taste, soft whispers, gentle sighs, the crashing crescendo of the final act…

   There had to be some way to make this work. Her brothers had both done it, but Reel had wanted to live on land with his wife, and Rod's wife was willing to make the sea her home. She had to figure out some way to make it happen for her and Logan because he couldn't give up everything—he had Michael to think of. And she… well, she didn't know if she could live on land.

   Then there was that mortal life-span complication.

   What to do? What to do?

   Two twenty-seven changed to two twenty-eight. What to do first was get herself into that water. The best place to think was in her natural environment.

   She unlatched the lock on the door and squeezed through the opening onto the deck, glancing back at Logan. His shoulder rose softly in time with his breath.

   "A few hours, Logan," she whispered, tugging the door closed behind her.

   The moonlight trailed across the massive deck and over the railing to the blue water beyond. High tide had just started to ebb, and the soft waves lapped against the pylons in the inlet below, their crests breaking into hundreds of iridescent bubbles.

   Angel looked out to sea. Not a hammerhead tail tip in sight.

   Ha. Chalk one up for Harry's short attention span. She'd counted on it. Oh, sure, he could be swimming in wait in the deep, but she knew him. When she hadn't shown up before sunset tonight, he'd taken off in search of another meal.

   But he'd be back tomorrow. Harry was nothing if not predictable in his anger at—and efforts to thwart—The Council.

   To play it safe, she'd swim in the inlet. That was too close to Humans for Harry's liking.

   Angel climbed over the railing, then braced her heels between the spindles. She took a deep breath—her last one of air for a while—raised her arms over her head and dove into the sparkling water.

   The water hit her—cold, fresh. Alive. Her nipples tightened just as they had when Logan had rolled his tongue around them. Her legs shimmered as her scales slid over them, binding the two appendages into one, her skin drinking in the moisture. It felt so good to be whole again.

   She twisted in her dive, feeling her flukes turn with her.

   
Whole again
? But that's how she'd felt tonight with Logan. In his arms.

   She'd felt whole. As if every part of her was where she belonged. No questions, no hesitation, no worries about anything, just him and her.

   Her and Logan together.

   Angel stopped swimming. It wasn't her tail that made her who she was. Was the lack of one what made Logan who he was? She loved him for him, and if she had to guess, she'd say he was feeling something similar to ward her. Being with him was where she was supposed to be.

   She laid back and closed her eyes, letting the ebb and flow of the water buoy her. No wonder she'd always been so curious about Humans. No wonder it felt right with him. She'd been searching for him. The two of them together were one, part of something greater than their individual selves. Add Michael into the equation, and she had a family and a chance to do what she'd set out to do.

   She had a purpose.

   She opened her eyes. That was it. No more question ing, no more wondering. She would do whatever it took to have all of it: Logan and Michael
and
her purpose.

   She'd have to tell him the truth. Be honest. As much as it worried her, he'd have to see—after tonight—that it didn't matter that she was a Mer. He wouldn't possibly want her to get rid of her tail any more than she wanted him to get rid of his legs.

   She looked at the beautiful scales, shimmering like the inside of an abalone shell in the moon shadow, all the shades of amethyst and violet and lavender sparkling through the water. Logan would like it. It was part of her, part of who she was, and once she told him the truth, he'd forgive her for the subterfuge. He'd understand.

   Of course he would. He'd asked her to stay, made beautiful love to her; he felt something for her.

   They'd work out the logistics somehow, but she would have Logan and her tail and show Rod that she could do the job she wanted. She, like her brothers, could have it all, and Rod wouldn't be able to say her obser vations were any more compromised than any decision he'd made since falling in love with Valerie.

   Angel glanced skyward. A few more minutes, then she'd dry off, climb back into that warm bed with Logan, curl against him, and seize her life by the tail.

   But first… she'd celebrate. Mer style.

   She swam out of the inlet, keeping alert for any signs of Harry or his gang, but the other fish swimming around confirmed what she'd known. Unless the fish had a death wish, she was safe.

   Angel swam along the ocean floor, gathering her en ergy. Skimming the sandy bottom, she made it to deeper water quickly, then kicked her tail to head skyward as fast as she could. Water streamed over her, her tail arc ing beneath her and she lifted her arms over her head as she cleared the surface. Ah, the freedom as she exploded into the sky, somersaulting with joy as she dove back beneath the waves.

   Again, she skimmed the bottom, flicking her tail to head topside again. This time, she arched backward and greeted the horizon upside-down, a perfect moonlit rain bow of color in her tail.

   Again and again, Angel danced among the waves, wanting to sing her happiness, but that'd only invite trouble. Besides, the moon's trail had lengthened, and it was time to head back.

   She flicked her tail and dove toward Logan's home, ready for the sea—and air—to be cleared between them. Ready to begin her life with him.

   She couldn't wait to hear what he'd say.

   Returning to the inlet, she swam toward the bank of the small beach there. She broke through the surface and brushed her hair off her face, shaking the water from her eyes just in time to hear what Logan
did
say.

   "Son of a bitch. You're a
mermaid
?" He raked his hands through the hair she'd caressed less than an hour ago. "How is this even possible? How—
why are yo
u here? I have to believe it because I saw you—I
saw
you. Swimming and diving and doing whatever the hell it was you were doing, but… but you… you're not real. Mermaids don't exist."

   Angel's heart sank faster than a ship's anchor. This wasn't how she wanted him to find out.

   She swam closer to shore. "Logan, I—"