She (29 page)

“Intriguing,” he says. “Am I allowed to see whatever it is after five PM?”

“Assuming I get it completed,” I nod. “May I hold onto your house keys until then?”

He smiles at me. “They’re yours now, baby. You may hold them, drop them, lose them, hide them,” he shrugs, “do with them whatever you will. You’re welcome here any time, day or night.”

I bend down to kiss his lips. “Thank you,” I say, and he nods. “The same applies to you and my home. I’ll have a key made for you,” I tell him, giving him another kiss. “I know a great key cutting place that has
all
sorts of different coloured keys,” I say excitedly. “What colour do you want?”

“Green, please.”

“Green it is.”

Logan then tells me, “There will be lots happening next Wednesday. That’s when my family arrives.” He pauses a moment, perhaps to study my reaction; I remain cool. He continues, “We’ve arranged to have a late dinner that night. You’re invited, if you’d like to come?”

“I’d love to come,” I say, meaning it despite the abrupt takeoff of butterflies in my stomach. Meeting Logan’s family? I shall endeavour to leave my American Mouth at home!

“They get in late, so dinner won’t be until nine or so. Is that OK?” he asks, and I nod. “And then on Thursday…” that’s Logan’s actual birthday, “…I’ll have lunch with them, but I want to spend the evening with you. Just with you.”

I smile at him. “That sounds perfect, baby. I shall have to think of something creative to do…” I rub my chin and feign thinking hard. In reality I know
exactly
what we’ll do! And I can’t wait!

Logan chuckles. “I spoke to my parents just before I fell asleep, and I told them all about you. My mom can’t believe I have a girlfriend, let alone that I’m in love with said girlfriend,” he says, stroking my cheek.

“It’s the same with my mom. I guess none of them have a clue. But,” I shrug, “we’ve been busy being with each other instead of keeping them posted. Being together is more important,” I think.

He smiles. “I could not agree more, my love. Speaking of love…” he rolls onto his side and cautiously pushes himself up to a sitting position, before reaching for something on the coffee table. “I do believe I’ve discovered another one of your ex-boyfriends,” he says, holding out my copy of
Tender Is The Night
. “His name is written in the front. Look,” he tells me.

I don’t look. I don’t need to. Instead, I begin giggling. “You’re referring to Richard Merkis,” I say.

“That’s the one.”

Oh, Logan! I love knowing he jumps to conclusions the same way I do! “He’s not an ex-boyfriend. He’s my father,” I explain.

“Oh,” Logan falters, looking at me impassively. He relaxes a little when I smile at him.

“This was his book,” I continue.

“Is that why it’s your favourite?”

“No. I have other books of his that I don’t like as much. But this one…” I finally take the book from him, “…it’s the story in here that I love.”

“I’ve only just started,” he tells me. “I’ll take care with it,” he says, earnestly.

“I know you will,” I nod. “It’s fine, Logan. You don’t have to treat it with excessive care now that I’ve told you it was his. I trust you,” I say, smiling at him and handing the book back over.

He takes it gratefully and lays it back on the coffee table.

With books on my brain, I ask, “Do you enjoy taking photographs? Because I noticed a
lot
of photography books on your shelves.”

“It’s funny you should ask me that right now,” he smiles.

“Why?”

“Because it’s another family connection. Those books are of Taylor’s work,” he reveals.

“Taylor, your brother?”

“Yes, he’s a photographer. Most of the books are his published works, and then I’ve got a few others that he’s suggested to me over the years.”

Wow, I think. “Now I want to look through them all.”

“You have the keys to the apartment now, and all the time in the world.”

Mmm, how nice that does sound! I shuffle forward on the sofa, moving closer to Logan. I kiss him slowly; a long, wet, delicious kind of kiss. Then I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. He buries his face into my hair and breathes me in. We sit entwined for a long, peaceful moment.

“I missed you,” he says, and I smile, enjoying that those words started off the conversation that we’ve just had.

“I have the keys to the apartment,” I remind him. “You never need miss me again.”

*

While Logan goes into the dressing room to hide my surprise ‘attire’ for this coming weekend, I linger in the kitchen, firstly investigating what Mercy’s cooked us to eat (it’s a healthy-looking chicken dish), and then reading through a piece of paper from the hospital that outlines Logan’s post-op do’s-and-don’ts.

Logan joins me a few minutes later and groans when he sees what I’m reading. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he says.

“Why not?” I ask curiously.

“You might give me into trouble…”

“Why?” I grin. “What are you intending?”

He steps towards me so that our bodies are flush against one another, and he gazes down at me with desire in his eyes. “I intend to break those rules.”

I smile up at him. Good, Logan,
good
! “And I intend to let you,” I say, thrilling him, before I add, “In due course…”

He sighs.

“Tonight, you rest,” I tell him.

He grins alluringly at me. “Yes, Ma’am,” he agrees.

*

After dinner, I play Logan the song I downloaded earlier, jogging his memory from last night and performing an animated dance routine for him, much to his amusement. Then we return to the sofa in the man’s den and watch a movie,
Walk The Line
(Logan’s favourite), as he dozes in and out of consciousness, resting, as he must.

It’s early when we go to bed, and though sex is out of the question tonight, making out isn’t. Logan lounges back against the headboard and I sit on his legs, cautious not to press my body too firmly against his swollen abdomen, as we kiss passionately.

After a few long, delicious moments, Logan breaks away and stares at my lips, looking bemused. “That stuff really doesn’t come off, does it?” he asks.

Uh
… “What stuff?”

“Your lipstick,” Logan explains with a smile.

Ah, my dependable long-life lip stain. “No, it doesn’t,” I grin.

“I was watching your lips all through dinner, and it didn’t budge a bit.” Logan takes my face in his hands and instead of kissing me some more, he sucks on my bottom lip, seeing if he can remove the stain. I know it won’t budge, but I don’t tell Logan so; I want him to keep sucking at me, reveling in the feeling of it.

“Huh…it’s really stuck fast.”

“Yes,” I grin again. Oh, Logan, that’s the point! “But by all means, continue trying to get it off,” I say cheekily.

Happily, he does.

11. Replay

Sometime in the early hours of the morning I wake feeling parched and desperate for a glass of water. I must’ve been sleeping with my mouth open.
Shit
, I sincerely hope Logan didn’t see that; it isn’t a great look!

I get up, put on my robe to cover my naked body, and go to the kitchen to pour myself some water. It’s five-thirty, later than I thought, but it’s still very dark outside. I don’t feel like I can sleep anymore; we went to bed so early that my body tells me it’s had its fill. I peek back into the bedroom and see Logan snoozing soundly, so I leave him be and settle in the living room, flicking on one of the floor lamps and pulling several of Taylor’s photography books off of the shelves and carrying them over to the comfortable-looking sofa. I throw one of the throws over my legs and pick up the first book.

The cover image is, of course, striking; it’s a black and white photograph depicting a busy New York day. I browse through the book, which seems to be NYC themed, encountering stunning photo after stunning photo. Taylor certainly has talent. My habit with a photo book like this is to start at the back and flip forward, and at the front of this book I stumble across the dedication page, which reads:

For my beautiful family… My wonderful parents, Mary-Gene and Rupert, my perfect daughter, Abigail, and the love of my life, my wife, Karen. Thank you all. I love you.

Ouch
, I think. That’s a serious burn! ‘
My beautiful family
’
and you don’t mention your brother
?
What’s wrong with you
,
Taylor
, I want to ask him. I dispense with the New York book and pick up one that looks to be about summer or spring or flowers or something. I have abruptly lost my interest in Taylor’s actual work, finding it much more telling to instead read his dedications. The next few books I flick through are as follows:

For Abigail. My inspiration, my muse.

For Karen, who taught me how to love and be loved.

For my Mom and Dad. The coolest ‘old people’ I know.

For all my Editors, present and past. Your keen eyes have made me a better photographer. Your presence in my life has made me a better man.

I roll my eyes at the last one.
Seriously
? Isn’t that a little soppy? How about being
less
soppy and
more
considerate of Logan, I think. OK, so maybe I’m a little biased, but I’m allowed to be: I’m Logan’s girlfriend! Finally I find a book, one with a dark and rather morbid cover depicting poverty, and I feel certain that this one will be dedicated to Logan. I find the page I’m looking for, and I see my instincts are right. It reads:

For my brother, Logan, who has taught me much
.

Is that it? ‘
Who has taught me much
’
is the best you can do
? This seems…
strange
! Either Taylor has a serious issue with holding grudges, or there’s more to this story than I’ve currently been told. Hmm, I wonder, Logan
was
disappointed to have revealed his past with his brother to me, could there be more that he’s still guarding me from? I shrug and snap the book shut. There’s an easy way to find — I’ll ask him!

He’s still sound asleep and looks too peaceful to be woken for something that will probably turn out to be trivial. Quietly as I can I drop my bathrobe and slip back into the bed next to him and lie on my side, watching him sleep. Through his teeshirt I can see his chest rise and fall slowly and evenly, and something about that makes me smile. With my sole attention on him, I wonder if somewhere in Logan’s psyche he knows he’s being watched and will wake up… But he doesn’t. At least, not immediately. When he does stir he blinks his eyes open and gives me a double take, surprised to see me looming next to him.

“Hey,” he mutters, smiling at me. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you,” I smile back. Now no longer cautious of waking him, I move right up against his body, placing my hand on his steady chest and leaning over to kiss his lips. “I can’t sleep,” I say against them. “I got up and was thumbing through Taylor’s books, but I got distracted by his dedications,” I tell him.

“Ah…
Those
…”

“Yes, those. What’s the deal?” I ask, because I’m starting to think Buddy has got the right idea about Taylor.

“I told you, baby, he doesn’t like me,” he says sleepily.

“That is…
inconceivable
!” I almost shout.

Logan chuckles. “I’m glad you think so. Your opinion and a select few others are the ones I care about. I don’t care about Taylor’s; you don’t need to either.” His words are sure and honestly spoken.

I nod at him. “OK,” I say. If it’s not an issue for Logan, then I’m not going to press upon it. Still, I’m suddenly curious to meet his brother next week.

I lay my head down on Logan’s chest and instantly smile when I hear the sound of his heart beating. We doze for a time; I’m not sure how long for, but when Logan next speaks, light is beginning to creep under the blinds.

“Gemima?
Gemima
!” he coaxes me awake.

“MmmHmm?”

“It’s the third day,” he says excitedly.

I lean up on my elbow and look down at his exuberant face.

“The nurse told me that I should rest and not have sex for a
few
days. It’s been a few!” Logan smiles.

I laugh. “For someone who constructs buildings you have shocking math skills,” I grin.

“What do you mean?”

“It hasn’t been a few days, Logan. Monday morning to Tuesday morning. That’s one day. Tuesday morning to Wednesday morning. That’s two days. It’s only been two days,” I tell him.

He is put out and looks petulant and
very
attractive. Abruptly a smile spreads across his face, and then his hand slides up and down my bare back. “Don’t you want to have sex with me?” he asks, beaming, and knowing full well the affect that he has on me.

I falter. “Uh…” How am I supposed to answer that?
Of course I want to have sex with you
,
Logan
, I cry in my mind. But it’s
more
important that he rests. I don’t want to be the reason he has a hernia! I think through our possibilities: he can’t be on top, that’s too much work for him right now; and I can’t be on top because I’ll apply too much pressure to his abdomen which will be painful; and he can’t pick me up… But,
ah
, there is a way!
There’s always a way to get something you
really
want
, I think slyly.

Finally I smile back at him, leaning over to kiss his delicious lips. “Always,” I say in answer to his question.

“Good. Answer,” he says between kisses.

Internally something sparks in me; my desire for him rages out of control. I kiss him forcefully, thrusting my tongue against his and he receives me eagerly.
Breathlessly, I tell him, “But we’re going to do it my way.”

He smiles against my mouth. “Yes, Ma’am.” His voice is laced with the same carnal longing that I feel pulling within me.

“Against the glass window,” I say. “And we can watch the sun coming up.”

“It’s not the sun I’m going to watch coming,” he retorts quickly.

Oh
,
Logan
! A delectable shiver runs through my body. I bite my lip.

Logan smiles at me, smugly. He then rolls onto his side, pushes himself up into a sitting position before standing up. He’s still moving tentatively, and I feel a little guilty.
Don’t
, I tell myself,
he can do this
! Besides, I’m
so
turned on already that I don’t think I can stop myself! I follow him out of the bed and lead the way over to the window.

“Shades up,” I say loudly. Immediately they spring to life and rise quickly. They’re not the only thing to do so.

I turn to face Logan, who now stands naked, his clothes in a heap on the floor. Even with his bandages on, he’s an impressive, intimidating sight. My heart pounds as he walks over to me, and my eyes linger on his full and sizeable erection.

“Good morning,” I address his penis.

Logan grins at me, his eyes full of the arousal that his member displays. I relish his look; relish that it’s me that turns him on so fully. And what’s even more arousing is that I know, I feel, the depth of his feelings beyond his sexual attraction to me.
He loves me
. He’s going to make love to me. My body is trembling before he even reaches me.

I take several backwards steps until my back is flush against the glass window. I shiver against the coldness of the glass. Logan follows me and presses his warm body firmly against mine, his lips caressing my neck.

“I adore you, Gemima,” he murmurs against my skin. “Completely. Perfervidly. And forever. I adore everything about you.”

I smile, feeling entirely undone by him.

He bends and starts kissing my breasts, sucking my nipples which harden against his tongue. I moan gratefully, my hands grabbing his hair.

“Oh, Logan, I love you so much,” I say breathlessly.

“I love you, too,” he smiles, straightening up and kissing my lips softly and delicately. His hands travel from my belly down to my thighs and he squeezes and pulls at them, willing them to part. Oh,
shit
! I’m panting already! I know he wants me to open my legs so that he can pick me up and press me against the glass, but that’s not allowed.

“No heavy lifting,” I repeat one of the more important rules of his recovery.

He raises his eyebrows. “You do not constitute as
heavy lifting
.”

“Even so. No lifting,” I shake my head, then reaching up so that my lips are against his, I say, “There are other, less strenuous ways.”

“You mean, you’re going to turn around?”

I smile and nod at him. Then I turn and press my backside against his groin, my hands splayed on the glass above me.
Fuck
, I’d forgotten how high up this apartment is!
Just don’t look down
, I think. Instead I stare at the sky; it’s a beautiful dawn, colouring the sky with shades of pastel pink, yellow and blue.

Behind me Logan takes his sweet,
sweet
time running his hands over every inch of my skin that’s on display to him. He starts at the top, caressing my arms, and then my whole back, before moving down to my hips, my backside and the tops of my legs. Every second that ticks by I get more and more expectant, my breathing increasing along with my exponential arousal.

Finally, I feel him step towards me, pushing me firmly against the cold glass window, his hands on my waist. I shiver, for several reasons.

“Widen your stance,” he whispers into my ear. He adds, “
Please
.”

I smile at his manners, and do as I’m told. I brace myself, turned on more now than any other time Logan and I have had sex. I don’t know why. Nor do I care. I just want him inside of me, and evidently he does too. He places himself at my entrance and then tilts his hips forwards and slides into me, provoking me with every inch.
Oh
! I let out a whimpering moan.
Yes
!

Something is different
, I note immediately.
Very
different! I feel him so deeply, and even when he stops moving, I
still
feel him stimulate me, pulsating inside of me. It’s never felt like this before. It’s always been astounding, but
this
? This is heavenly!

He pulls out of me, making that sound of satisfaction in the depths of his throat that makes my body quiver. When he enters me again, I push my backside out to meet him, feeling him even more. Logan’s moan at the exquisite feeling matches my own. He starts moving faster, thrusting into me, and I close my eyes and screw up my face. Oh,
yes
!

So much for watching the sunrise
,
Gem
! But I can’t concentrate on anything other than Logan taking me.

I call out over and over, unable not to, feeling stimulated like never before. My sounds are met by Logan’s low groans. Oh. My. God! I officially don’t know what’s happening! Before I know it, I’m coming.

“Already?” Logan’s voice purrs in my ear, feeling me near my climax.

“
Ah
!
YES
!” I respond. I convulse unexpectedly, undiluted pleasure ricocheting through my body.

Logan doesn’t stop taking me, nor do I want him to; there’s more to be had. I can feel it! I push out harder against his sex, taking him even deeper into me. Holy
fuck
! My legs are trembling. This is unreal! Logan reaches a hand around to my sex and starts stimulating my clitoris. My senses are overwhelmed. I am feeling so much,
too
much!

I start climbing.
Again
! Something powerful is building within me, and Logan feels it within himself, too. He plunges into me at a faster pace, groaning loudly, his other arm wrapped tightly around my tummy. The sounds of him so turned on spurs me onwards.