Logan (11 page)

That thought gave him enough of a scare to pause. He realized he was definitely taking advantage of the situation, and needed to stop it before it got out of hand
 

He wrenched his mouth away and gulped in huge breaths. She moved closer, if that was possible, and tried to kiss him again.
 

Logan grabbed her hands. “No.”
 

She opened her eyes, but just barely. The pout she gave him was perfect.
 

“What do you mean no?”
 

“Tisn’t right. You’re pissed.”
 

For a second, a look of confusion marred her expression. “Pissed?”
 

Then he remembered she was American. Yes, she had spent a long time abroad, but deep down, she was an American witch.
 

“Drunk. Very, very drunk.”
 

She smiled. “Yes, I am. But not that much.”
 

“Really, because it looked like the two of you went through five bottles.”
 

She shrugged. “Doesn't affect us like it affects you and your kind. Besides, don’t men like taking advantage of drunken women?”
 

“Not honorable men.” And for the first time in his very long life, Logan regretted being one. He wished he could ignore the rules his parents had taught him years earlier.
 

She slipped her arms around his waist, then slid her hands down to his ass. “Come on, Logan, be a little bad with me. Just this once.”
 

There was a small part of him that told him to say no. But, a bigger part, the one screaming in his ears and controlling his hormones, was in charge. When he looked down at her, he realized she might have been right about the alcohol. Her eyes were clear, and she had a determined look about her.
 

“You promise me you won’t regret this?”
 

“Promise.”
 

She had barely finished the word when he cupped her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. He didn’t waste any time. He backed her over to the huge canopied bed. They reached it and he tumbled them over. It was the only reprieve he was going to grant her. He settled on top of her and started to kiss her again. She didn’t hesitate. Her response was as wicked as the need he had for her. Everything that had been building for weeks surged forward, encouraging him to conquer her.
 

She apparently had no problem. He pulled back and then tugged at her shirt. He had it off her in seconds, tossing it on the floor behind them. He didn’t care. Instead, he could only stare at the treasure he had unearthed. Fair skin, amazing breasts, with the most beautiful rosy nipples begging for his hands…and his mouth.
 

He licked his lips when he realized she was only wearing that little scrape of black silk. Then, he felt her hands at his throat. She was undoing his tie.
 

He stopped her by grabbing her hands. “I am not going to lay here naked and have you completely dressed, Logan.”
 

He smiled and helped her with the tie. Before he was completely done, she was working her way down the buttons on his shirt. He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket, throwing it on the floor beside her shirt, and then he surrendered.
 

Bracing his hands beside her on the mattress, he bent his head and took one turgid tip into his mouth. She moaned, arching up off the bed, as she speared her fingers through his hair before molding her palms to the back of his head. As he kissed a path to her other nipple, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her sex against his cock. Even through the layers of clothing he still wore, he could feel the heat of her.
 

She kept moving against him, her motions mimicking a sexual rhythm. He couldn’t take it anymore. His body craved a satisfaction that he knew only Meg could relieve.
 

He pulled back and tore off his shirt. Meg was already sitting up and had her hands on the button of his trousers. She slipped the zipper down, then moaned.
 

“Lord, Logan, if I had known you hadn’t had anything on under the pants, I don’t know if I would have controlled myself this long.”
 

He smiled. “Lass, I rarely wear underwear.”
 

She licked her lips and before he could say anything else, she leaned forward as she tugged down his pants. His erection sprung forward, and she immediately had her hands on it. It didn’t take long before she had the long hard length of him in her mouth. She teased him as she moved that talented mouth over his cock, again and again, until he couldn’t take it anymore.
 

“Enough,” he said. He pulled away and tossed her back on the bed.
 

He gave her no time to contemplate his actions. Instead, he shucked out of his trousers, then covered her body with his. He wanted to plunge into her right then, but he wanted to tease first.
 

As Logan kissed his way down her body, Meg moaned with each slip of the tongue against her flesh. His mouth was bad, but add in those talented artist’s hands, and she didn’t know why the hell she had waited so long to take him to bed. He stripped off her panties without hesitation, then settled between her legs. Without taking his gaze from hers, he licked her sex, leisurely. It was possibly the most seductive thing a man had ever done to her. Then, he closed his eyes and plunged his tongue into her core.
 

She moaned, or she thought she did, and widened her legs. Over and over, he dove inside her, teasing that tiny bundle of nerves. He took her close to the edge of completion more than once before drawing back. By the time he was kissing his way up her body, she was a quivering mass of need, begging him to end the torture.
 

Logan rose to his knees and took her hips into his hands. He entered her in one hard, long thrust.
 

“Oh, God,” she moaned.
 

He leaned in to kiss her. Meg tasted herself on his lips and tongue. When he pulled back he said, “No, lass. My name’s Logan.”
 

She laughed, which ended on a moan, as he pulled out and thrust into her again. Each time he entered her, he brushed against those tiny nerves, pulling her closer. He continued his assault, their flesh growing slick with perspiration. In one instant, she was clamoring for release. In the next moment, she was shattering. The surge of relief, pain, and pleasure burst through her. He bent down and kissed her, swallowing her scream. Her orgasm washed through her, as she convulsed from the power of it.
 

Logan rested his forehead against hers as he continued to thrust into her. It only took a few more thrusts before following her, her name on his lips, and pouring himself into her.
 

Long minutes later, Logan woke up. He was still laying unceremoniously on top of Meg. He should be embarrassed by his behavior, but he couldn’t find the energy. Right now, he was amazed he was still conscious.
 

With tremendous effort, he pushed himself off her. “Sorry I smothered you.”
 

She didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she smiled. “No worries, Logan. I really liked it.”
 

Bloody hell, he loved the way his name sounded in her accent. She took her time about it, the southern accent drawing out over the syllables. Here in the dark, with just the two of them, he loved that he was the only person who could hear it.
 

He rolled them over and then realized they hadn’t even gotten the covers undone. Lord, doing that was going to take more effort than he could expend at the moment. In fact, if he didn’t know he was immortal, he would be convinced that he were dead.
 

Logan slipped out of bed, then pulled the covers down, working them around Meg as he went. Meg, for her part, barely noticed. By the time he joined her back in bed, he was pretty sure she had fallen asleep again. He moved in behind her, then slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She moved this way and that, trying to get comfortable. Each time she did, she rubbed that cute ass of hers up against his cock. If she kept it up, she was either going to push him too far or completely unman him.
 

Grabbing her hip, he stopped her movements, and heard a suspicious snort. It was then he realized she had been doing it on purpose.
 

He sat up and she fell back into his spot. She was grinning up at him and in that one second, he was mesmerized. It was dark and he could barely see her, but the flash of white, the dimples, and the tumble of curls against the pillows hit home. This is what he wanted—who he wanted. Hell, he didn’t just want her. He needed her on a level that was probably unhealthy.
 

In that one split second, he realized he was falling in love with her.
 

Meg’s smile dimmed, as he continued to look at her.
 

“What?”
 

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her. She placed a hand on his chest and stopped him.
 

“Tell me. That look was serious.”
 

He wanted to tell her everything, that for the first time in over two hundred years a woman had captured his heart, but he knew it wasn’t right. Meg wasn’t a woman who wanted to muddy up their time together with emotions. Instead, he leaned down, bringing his mouth within inches of hers.
 

“I’m thinking of that great American saying…how does it go?” he paused for effect. “Payback’s a bitch.”
 

Before she could react, he gave her a quick hard kiss, then grabbed her by her hips and turned her over. She screamed, but it dissolved into giggles, as he kissed his way down her back.
 

She wiggled and screamed, but she was soon moaning, as he moved his mouth and hands over her flesh. With each touch, the connection to her grew more powerful. Without knowing why, he just knew that separation from her was going to be painful.
 

He ignored the worries that threatened to ruin the mood and pulled her up to her knees. His hands were shaking, as he kneeled between her legs and entered her from behind. Again and again, he thrust into her. Soon she was repeating his name, over and over, as he took her up and over into pleasure.
 

It wasn’t enough.
 

He needed her to feel the same thing he was feeling, that connection that overwhelmed and humbled him. Each orgasm grew in intensity until he could no longer wait. As she came once more, he let himself give in to the pleasure. One last thrust and he surrendered.  
 

*  *  *  *
 

By the time she made it down to breakfast, it was almost eleven in the morning. Meg would be embarrassed if she hadn’t felt so damned good. She had known from the beginning that Logan would be an amazing lover. She had underestimated him, however. She followed the rich smell of coffee and fresh baked goods. Logan was standing in the corner, his hair still mussed, his eyes still bleary, as he sipped at his cup of coffee.
 

“So, we all need to go out and do things today,” Angus said.
 

Logan grunted and she grinned. The brothers were kind of cute when they were dealing with each other.
 

Angus continued on as if Logan had agreed. “Both Maggie and I think it would be best to look like what we’re supposed to be: tourists. We can go separately or together.”
 

“Let’s go out separately today, then meet up tonight,” Maggie offered, as she walked into the room from the direction of the terrace. She noticed Meg and smiled. “Well, top of the morning to ya. Late for you.”
 

She barely noticed her friend because Logan was now looking at her.
 

“Oh, Meg,” Angus said. “Are you hungry?”
 

“Starving,” she said. “First I need some coffee.”
 

“I just brewed some, since you two decided to lay about most of the day.”
 

Logan slanted his brother a look and apparently Angus took the silent warning.
 

She grabbed a coffee cup and stepped up beside Logan. The heat of him warmed her.
 

“Good morning, Meg,” he said. That Scottish accent wrapped around her, teased her senses. She remembered the way he sounded in the middle of the night, when he moaned her name.
 

“Good morning, Logan.”
 

“Well, aren’t we all in a good mood this morning,” Maggie said. “I think if we are going to go out on our own, we better get going. I have a lot of things I want to see and not much time to see it.”
 

Angus nodded.
 

“We can meet at a restaurant. I’ll give you the address,” she said. It was hard to get the words out of her mouth. Logan continued to stare at her, as if he planned on having her for breakfast.
 

She didn’t know when Angus left them alone. Logan continued to stare at her.
 

“Stop that.”
 

His lips curved. “What?”
 

“You’re looking at me like…well, I don’t know.”
 

She was flustered. It hadn’t happened in so long, but he had her feeling like an untried teenager. She sipped her coffee, then immediately regretted it. Meg despised black coffee.
 

“Hmm.”
 

It was the only response he gave her. The cat who ate the canary look on his face pushed her over the edge. With the flick of her hand, she bobbled his cup. Some of the coffee sloshed over the top.
 

“Bloody hell.”
 

Meg said nothing, as she went to the refrigerator and grabbed some cream for her coffee. She could feel his gaze on her, as she slowly went through the motions of doctoring her coffee and returning the cream to the refrigerator. When she shut the door, she found that crazy Scot in front of her. He placed a hand on either side of her head.