The Long Road Home (17 page)

"The head physical therapist, Tyler, gave me an article. It talks about how men just like me, with a prosthesis, have returned to active duty. There have been several of them, and they've done just fine in the field, either returned to their unit or to another assignment more up to their current speed."

His mother's gaze flicked to Harold, then back to Logan. Her face clouded. "So you can return to war?"

"Yes."

"Which is what he's wanted to do since the accident," Harold reminded her.

"I worry…"

"I'll worry, too. But look at him." Gwen stared at Logan's face. "Look at his determination, his enthusiasm. Look at how he's physically stronger. Not to mention happier." She turned her head to look at Tilly. "We always worry about those we love, especially when they're deployed. However, you can see what the dream means to him." She paused for a beat, smiling when Logan lifted her hand to his lips. "I'm new to this, but I think you love them for who they are and support them in their dreams. If he wanted to climb mountains or jump out of airplanes, I'd worry, but I'd be there cheering him on."

"I've already done those things." He grinned at her.

"Okay. I'd support you if you wanted to ride motorcycles at unbelievable speeds on a dirt track or race cars."

"Done that too." His voice carried a teasing quality.

Gwen rolled her eyes dramatically and shook her head. "Is there anything that you haven't done?"

He chuckled. "A few things. Maybe." The husky timbre of his voice combined with a heated look sent her stomach into a delightful somersault.

"He always was an adrenaline junkie." Harold turned to face his wife. "I say let him do what makes him happy."

Tilly's lips curled up at the corners. "I suppose if he can survive those reckless go-kart races as a kid, he can survive just about anything." Her face softened as she gazed at her son. "You have my support. In everything you choose to do."

A timer dinged cheerfully from the kitchen. Gwen stood, tugging Logan to his feet when she kept hold of his hand. "Lunch is ready."

She headed toward the kitchen, releasing Logan to dig through a drawer for some hot pads.

"Thank you." He nuzzled her cheek and kissed her temple.

"For what?" She blinked at him.

"For being you."

Happiness washed over her at his compliment. "Ditto." She stood up on tiptoe to brush her lips across his.

The kitchen door opened, then closed immediately with no one entering. Gwen laughed. "Think we traumatized them?"

Logan snorted. "From a kiss? Nah. Now if I stripped you down and proceeded to make sweet love to you on the dinner table, maybe."

Please do.
She inwardly gawked at the image, which surprisingly didn't shock her nearly as much as she would have thought. Logan seemed to have made an impression on her libido, desires, and previously unknown kinkiness.

She grinned wickedly. "Now that's a fantasy I'll have to dream about tonight."

Logan groaned.

The door cracked open far enough to allow Tilly to peek in, check the situation out, then step inside the room. "Do you need some help, dear?"

Gwen bit her tongue. Oh, boy did she need help. Standing in the kitchen daydreaming about stripping Logan down, laying across the table, and holding on for dear life as Logan showed her the advantages of sex in unusual places.

"Gwen?"

She blinked and glanced up at the other woman. "Oh, sorry. I was distracted for a moment. Yes, could you please check the potatoes?"

She heard a muffled laugh. Let Logan find humor in her rampant horniness now. After all, paybacks were hell. Wickedly, she shot Logan a grin full of promise.

He lifted an eyebrow, his expression said it all. Bring it on.

Chapter 30

Logan stepped from the shower, using the towel to rub his body dry. He'd slept in that morning and just then decided to climb from the warm nest he called a bed. Sundays were meant for laziness, according to his mother. Lately, he'd embraced that very notion, enjoying the simple pleasure of downtime.

Grabbing a second towel, he headed back to his bed, sat down, and removed his prosthesis. While the dampness didn't hurt the metal device, he needed to keep the sock dry or risk chafing the skin over the amputation. If an ulcer developed in the area, it would be hell to try to heal. He wanted more motion and exercise, not forced rest because he couldn't use his prosthesis until the wound healed again. The very last thing he needed was to have another surgery to the area if the small wound turned into an infected one. All his progress would be for naught, not to mention how much higher they'd have to cut. Dealing with a below the knee amputation was enough for him. Losing more of his leg was out of the question.

Gently, he patted the area and checked for abrasions before plucking a new clean stump sock from the bed. Just as he rolled the material up, a knock sounded at the door. Automatically, he answered, not even considering his state of undress.

"Come in."

"Good morning. I wanted to…" Gwen's words faded as her gaze landed on his nakedness. Her eyes widened even as her tongue darted out to lick over her lips.

He debated grabbing up the sheet and covering himself, but the look of appreciation and awe on her face stopped him. While her cheeks tinged a pretty pink color, her eyes flickered in sensual appreciation. Desire quickly replaced shock on her expressive face.

"You wanted to what?" He grinned, waggled his eyebrows, and waited for her to answer.

They'd danced around the sex issue since reuniting at, first, his apartment, then her home. Sure, they'd shared some dang steamy kisses, even a bit of groping, but always before, they had stopped short of some heavy petting and the actual event. He didn't want to rush her, and she seemed still a bit hesitant, despite their conversations about long-term plans.

Right then, judging by the longing and avid curiosity pasted on her face, he'd wager she made her decision.

"Gwen?"

Her brown eyes met his. "Yes?"

"What is it you want?" He held his breath.

"To touch you. All of you." Her words came out a whisper, though no less sincere.

Heady arousal hit him full force. His cock responded immediately, jumping with excitement as blood left his rational brain and shunted lower. "Then touch me. Wherever you want. However you want."

Tossing the stump sock aside, he watched as Gwen stepped toward him, her eyes raking his body as she neared. Dressed in loose sweats with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she never looked more desirable or beautiful.

He watched her chest expand with breath, pulling his attention to her modest breasts, the first place he wanted to get his hands on, learn their shape and weight. From there, he'd spend the rest of his life exploring and enjoying each and every inch of her delightful form, never tiring and always eagerly returning for more.

"Come over here, sweetheart." He patted the bed beside him. If he sported his prosthesis, he would have stood, but without it, his balance would be challenged. The last thing he needed was to fall on his face on the bedroom floor at such a critical moment.

She complied, sitting down softly on the mattress before reaching out to lightly brush her fingers over his shoulder, down his left arm, and across his chest. There, she seemed fascinated by his pecs as she circled the area more than once, taking time to rub the flat disc of his nipple until it hardened under her delicate touch.

He bit back a moan. "That feels so good." The words carried easily in the silent room.

Her gaze lifted to his, then a small smile appeared. "I'm glad. You're beautiful." With tenderness, she continued her route of discovery, dipping lower over his six pack abdomen, then backtracking to his pecs, as if a magnet drew her attention back each time.

"Far from it. You're the beautiful one." He set his back teeth and forced himself to stillness. As much as he wanted to return the caresses, he vowed to give her plenty of time to familiarize herself with his body. Let her play. The pleasurable torture now would only reward them both later on.

"Not even close." She grew bolder, stared at his jutting arousal, dropped her hand, and encircled him.

This time, the resulting groan tore from his throat.

Her gaze flicked between his face and his erection as she first measured him, then used her thumb to graze the tip, spreading the first droplet of dew over the top. His hips bucked as his cock leaked further, pleading for more tactile stimulation. She honored the unspoken request by sliding her hand up and down his shaft, experimenting with different grip snugness and techniques.

Logan ran multiplication tables through his head. After such a long abstinence, a couple months before his injury, then living in proximity to the woman he wanted, his body was on a hair trigger. Just her touch alone threatened to send him right over the edge. Grappling with his control, he breathed through the moment, only partially successful in dampening his raging need.

"Let me touch you." The words came out as a hoarse grunt, but she seemed to understand.

Standing up, she worried her lip for a moment before tugging the shirt over her head. Without pausing, she kicked the pants off in the direction her shirt fell.

His mouth began to water at the sight of such beauty standing before him in just pink cotton panties and a matching bra. "Gorgeous."

She smiled at the praise. "You're biased."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I think you're the prettiest thing I've ever seen, and I'm always right."

Gwen chuckled. "Who am I to argue then?"

He reached for her, thrilled when she stepped into his embrace. His nose butted against her cleavage. Taking advantage of the position, he quickly unfastened the front clasp on her bra, shoved the flimsy material aside, and commenced suckling on one raspberry nipple while his free hand cupped the other.

She gasped, then removed the unwanted bra, tossing it aside, before grasping his head and yanking him closer to her chest. "That's… wonderful." Her breath caught as he switched sides, treating the other orb similarly to the first.

Reveling in her quick response, he dropped his hand from the breast he laved and trailed southward, not stopping until he slid his fingers along her waistband and began pushing the final garment down. Slowly and with patience, he worked the material until it fell to her knees, trapping her in place while revealing short, light brown curls protecting her most secret area.

Releasing her breast with a resounding pop, he leaned back to blow on the moist area, watching the nipple pebble even more. Satisfied, his gaze dropped to the source of her femininity right in front of him. Lifting his fingers, he slid between her thighs, moved upward, then slipped between her folds. Heat and ample moisture welcomed him.

Glancing upward, he focused on her face as he dipped one finger lower, found her entrance, and pressed upward.

Her mouth fell open as her breathing hitched. She grabbed for his shoulders, held on tightly as her panties puddled at her feet. Gingerly, she stepped out of them, the movement pressing his digit deeper and earning a throaty groan from her.

Such tightness. He couldn't believe how her channel gripped his finger, milking and caressing as if begging for something more. His cock throbbed with immediate need, a near painful sensation as he reached granite hardness and jutted straight out.

"I want you, badly."

Gwen looked down, taking a moment to focus on his face. "Good. Because I want you more than I want anything else."

He soaked in the splendor of her words for a moment, then reluctantly withdrew from her depths, promising to re-visit very soon with his aching erection. "Climb on here."

She didn't hesitate in the least. Instead, she crawled across the comforter, stopped in the middle, then spread out on her back. Long brunette hair lay to one side as she adjusted her ponytail and straightened out supine. Her eyes met his, then dipped lower, her gaze fastening onto his cock and stayed. Sultry want showed on her face as she reached for him.

A modicum of doubt and worry entered his mind. What if I can't do this? He hadn't had sex since before his accident and didn't know how his stump would change things, especially in the missionary position. Pressure mounted, more than he ever recalled feeling, even as a virgin about to experience his first time. What if I'm a bumbling idiot? He tried to remember what Tyler had told him, but his sluggish mind moved at snail's pace.

"I think you should know up front. I've never danced like this before." She coyly looked up at him from under her lashes, an impish grin tugging at her lips.

He smiled at the same words she had spouted when he'd chosen her as a dance partner four years earlier. Taking a moment, he recalled his response then. "It's okay. I'm far from a pro myself. No worries. We'll figure it out together."

Concerns vanished with the retelling of the first words they had ever spoken to one another. His confidence buoyed. Together. They would learn and do this together.

Her innocence didn't surprise him. Gwen always exuded purity from the brief time he had known her. Always sensible and grounded, she'd never spoken of partying or drinking or other, more wild adventures that many teens away from home for the first time partook in. She hadn't changed. He felt her relax under him, a teasing grin appearing on her face.