Logan's Redemption (28 page)

Doriana started to protest, but when she saw the hollow look in his eyes, she went to the living room sofa and sat down, clasping her hands on her lap to stop their shaking.

Still wearing his leather jacket, Logan paced the room. “I never knew a time when my father didn’t drink. I think my father loved my mother, but he was never happy. I don’t know why.” Bitterness and hurt colored his voice.

“Oh, Logan,” Doriana said. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned to her, his features tight. “I don’t want your pity. I didn’t want it then and I don’t want it now.”

She nodded.

He leaned against the mantle and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. His harsh, unyielding gaze bore into hers. “In his drunken stupors my dad threw things. Sometimes he put his fist through the wall. Once he broke all of my mom’s best china. I never saw him hit her, but she’d have bruises on her face and arms. She always denied that he’d put them there.” Logan’s face twisted with grief. “I should have protected her.”

Doriana fought tears. She wanted to go to Logan, to comfort and hold him until the pain went away, but he needed to talk. “You were just a child.”

“I’ve told myself that a thousand times,” he said. “But it doesn’t help. I don’t know why my mother put up with him. Maybe she hoped he’d change.”

Doriana dug her fingers into her palms. “Maybe she loved him and didn’t want to give up on him. And I’m sure she loved you very much.”

He nodded. “My mom shielded me as best she could. But I hated being home. School was a refuge to me. Until I was old enough to hang out on the streets.”

He took deep breaths. Doriana suspected he was working to hold his emotions under control. A door slammed outside. The mantle clock ticked softly in the quiet room.

Logan’s intense gaze lasered hers. “When my mother died, my dad started on me. At first it was just verbal abuse. Then it turned physical. I stayed away from home as much as possible. I drank. I joined a gang, did some street fighting.”

He gave a short bitter laugh. “I was becoming my father.”

“I had no idea,” she said softly.

“You saved me from myself,” he said with a small smile. “I remember the day we met. You were so sweet and innocent. And sexy. You were from a better world. I began to hope again.”

“Oh, Logan.” Her throat thickened with unshed tears.

A muscle worked in his jaw. “But you can’t escape who you are. One night after we were together, I went home feeling good about myself. You did that to me. I should have known it couldn’t last.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Dad was drunker than I’d seen him in a long time. I tried to ignore him, but he was itching for a fight. He hit me hard.”

Logan’s features tensed and he glanced away. “This time I hit back. A lot. We had a drag out fight. Things got broken. But we didn’t let up until he was on the floor bleeding.”

He looked at her then. She put a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out at the raw pain in his eyes.

“I thought I’d killed him,” he said. “And I was glad.”

Doriana’s stomach quivered. “You ran away, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “I threw some things in a bag and took all the money I could find. I didn’t stop until the money ran out, in Tucson, Arizona.”

She gulped deep breaths. Her muscles ached from holding herself so stiffly. “And later when I went to our meeting place to tell you I was pregnant, you weren’t there.” Tears for all the wasted years threatened.  

She had to stay calm, for Logan. “What happened when you got to Tucson?”

Some of the tension left his features. “I stayed at a shelter where I met a priest, a good man. I told him my story. He made a few phone calls. Found out my father wasn’t dead.” Logan looked deeply into her eyes. “I should have stayed here and owned up to what I did, but I got scared and ran. I’m not proud of that. Once I knew he was okay, I couldn’t come back. I may not have killed him that time, but I would have eventually. I couldn’t chance that.”

“So you joined the Army?”

He nodded. “If I’d known you were pregnant, I would have come back. But I thought you were better off without me.”

Joy tempered with sadness mingled in Doriana. Logan would have come back for her. Wanting to believe him, she went to him. He opened his arms and gathered her close. They clung to each other.

He stroked her hair. “I didn’t want to leave you, Dorie, but I had no choice.”

“I’m so sorry.” Tears slipped down her face and dampened the front of his shirt. “So sorry for everything.”

“It’s over, Doriana. It’s in the past.”

Swiping at tears, she pulled away to look up at him. “It’s not over. Not yet. No matter what he’s done, he’s your father. You need to forgive him. For your sake.”  

“I’m working on it. Let it go.”

She knew not to press him. She suspected he hadn’t told her everything, that he held part of himself back. But it was a start.

“Logan, why didn’t you tell me about your father then? Maybe I could have helped. My father would have helped.”

“Come on. You and I were in different worlds. You wouldn’t have understood.”

She turned, hiding the hurt in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He cupped her chin, turning her toward him. “I never meant to hurt you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Longing shimmered in the depths of Logan’s eyes. He’d loved her once. Could he love her again?

She’d been safe for too long. The past and the future didn’t matter. There was only now, this moment and this man. She brushed her hands over his arms, her gaze never leaving his. His muscles flexed under the smooth leather of his jacket. Did her eyes tell him what was in her heart?

He pulled her to him and kissed her, slow and deep. She snaked her arm around his waist and smoothed her hand along the firm muscles of his back. His soft groan fueled her heady sense of power.

“I never stopped wanting you,” he whispered against her mouth.   

He lowered his head to rain light kisses along her neck. She trembled with need and with the knowledge of what he could do to her. At nineteen Logan had been an incredible lover, taking her to dazzling heights of passion that fulfilled her every fantasy. He’d satisfied her like no other man ever could.

“I’ve waited a long time for you.” He skimmed his fingers over her breast. She shuddered and arched against him, lost in his heat.

She clutched at his waist, afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her. He tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her with an urgency that matched hers. She moaned into his mouth.

His breathing ragged, he pulled away to stare down at her. “Doriana?” His eyes held the question she’d longed for.

Molten desire surged through her. She took his hand and led him out of the room. The bright Christmas decorations swirled by in a blur of color as they headed for the stairs.

She began undressing him before they hit her room. She pulled his jacket off and flung it onto the hall floor. Logan half carried her into her bedroom, kissing her with a hunger that set her on fire. Wild with wanting him, she unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it from the waistband of his pants.

Logan set her aside and stripped off the rest of his clothes. He stood before her, proud and beautiful. His tanned skin glowed golden in the sunlight streaming through the blinds.  

Her ravenous gaze devoured him. The lean, handsome boy who’d stolen her heart all those years ago had matured into a magnificent man with broad, muscled chest, slim hips and long legs. His erection, large and hard, rocked her with the promise of unbridled passion. She held out her arms in invitation.

He moved toward her, slow and languorous, like a lion stalking willing prey. Desire pulled low in her belly.

He cupped her face between his hands and took her lips in a smoldering kiss that set her on fire. Whimpering sounds came from deep in her throat. “Please,” she whispered.

“Soon.”

Logan slipped her suit jacket off her shoulders, letting the soft wool slide down her arms like a caress. With maddening slowness, he unbuttoned her blouse, kissing each section of skin that he exposed. Trembling, she shrugged out of the delicate silk. The rest of her clothes followed.

She straightened and met Logan’s burning gaze. Was her body still desirable to him? His sharp intake of breath and the worship in his eyes told her the answer. The afternoon sunlight paled against the desire that sparked between them.  

“I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he whispered. He skimmed calloused hands reverently over her shoulders and down her arms, then pulled her close. His hardness throbbed against her. She thought she would die from wanting him. When he cupped her sensitive breasts in his hands, she gasped and clutched his shoulders.  

Her nipples pebbled in response. He bent to suckle one breast, then the other. Moaning softly, she wound her fingers through his hair. When he raised his head, the longing in his eyes made her tremble. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he whispered.

He took her lips in a kiss that shattered her control. She twined her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him, savoring his heat and his hardness. His scent, musky and citrus and all male, filled her.  

Memories stirred of the time they were young and wild for each other. But she was no innocent girl now. She loved Logan with a woman’s love, deep and full. And she needed him the way a woman needed a man. With a moan, she pressed closer.    

Holding her, he walked to the bed and released her to slide down the length of him. Her intimate brush against his hot flesh burned. She sank onto the bed, bringing him with her. The softness of the cotton spread and the scent of lilac linen spray cocooned them in a sensual cloud.

He leaned over her, his eyes fathomless and dark. She flattened her hands over his chest. The golden hairs sprang to life under her touch. She teased his nipples with her fingers, reveling in his maleness, remembering the pleasure he could give.

“You drive me crazy,” he rasped. “You always have.”

She imprinted his chiseled features on her mind. No matter what happened in the future, today belonged to them. She would savor this moment for the rest of her life.

She traced her hands down his chest to his flat stomach. His gaze swallowed her. When she wrapped her hand around his swollen penis, he shuddered. She stroked the hard length of him. Moisture pooled between her thighs and she bit back a groan.

He put his hands on both sides of her head and kissed her, plunging his tongue in and out of her mouth, promising the fulfillment that only he could give. She kissed him back with an intensity that scared her. Logan was her drug. The more she had of him, the more she wanted him.

She was where she belonged, in Logan’s arms. Only he could ease the aching torment of her body and the loneliness of her soul. She would not lose him again.

He grazed kisses along her neck to her swollen breasts. With his hands and mouth, he stroked and kissed and suckled her breasts until she cried out his name. Raising himself on his elbows, he stared down at her. “Dorie. My beautiful Dorie.”

“Love me, Logan.”

He covered her body with his and slanted his mouth over hers in a bruising kiss that sealed his possession. She moved her hips in a sensual circle against his. Groaning, he pressed her into the soft mattress.

“Need you,” she rasped.

With a fluid motion, he grabbed his pants where they lay on the floor and reached into the pocket. He pulled out a foil-wrapped packet and drew on protection. Her heart felt ready to burst with love for him.

She took his maleness and guided him into her. He filled her completely. She’d waited half her life to feel Logan inside her again, to be part of him again. She closed her eyes against her tears.

“Look at me,” he whispered. “I want to see you when I love you.”

She opened her eyes to meet his darkened gaze. Desire shone from the depths of his eyes, but something more, something that made hope soar in her. She clung to him. He groaned and drove hard into her like a man possessed, telling her with his body that she belonged to him. She arched her hips to meet his thrusts. She never wanted to let him go.

His low groans powered her with feminine pride. No other man could ever make her feel this way. He’d been her first. She wanted him to be her last.

Crazy with his feel and touch and taste, she dug her nails into his back and moved her head from side to side. He thrust deeper and harder, making her cry out. She watched the ecstasy and the torment play across his beautiful face and knew that she had always belonged to him.

“Dorie,” he said in a tortured whisper.    

“Logan. So good.” Her moans filled the room. Wildness overtook her and all rational thought fled.   

He plundered her mouth with his tongue. She scraped her nails along his back and met  every thrust of his tongue and hard penis. Her female heat, moist and slick, wrapped around him, claiming him. Logan plunged deeper and deeper inside her, taking her, claiming her.

Doriana clutched his shoulders. He took her higher and higher. Spasms trembled through her and her screams reverberated through the room. Then he took her higher. His body shuddered and he cried out his release. The fire and the fury of their passion spiraled them into a private paradise that she never wanted to end.