The One That Got Away (2 page)

Although he likened an angel in repose, Cecily nonetheless felt a twinge of panic as she regarded his ethereal stillness.

“Criminy, how many times do I have to save this dude’s life today?” She lowered her head, cupping his carved cheeks in two tender hands and pressing her lips to his; struggling to remember the CPR lessons she’d learned back in high school.

Her angst dissolved in the wake of a passionate kiss that managed to steal her own breath—one that seized her lips in a passionate frenzy and made her heart race.

Logan’s full, soft mouth consumed hers as their hungry tongues entangled; the smack of their lips and the heaving of their breath resounded in the air above them, and Cecily gasped outright as he covered her breasts with his hands, kneading them through the soft fabric of her swimsuit until her nipples were hard and erect.

“Just so you know, Logan, that was a dirty trick.” Finally and painfully breaking their kiss, Cecily stared deep into the ebony pools of his wide, passion struck eyes. “You made me think you were flat out passed out, like a fish out of water.” She paused, biting her lip at this awkward sentiment. “Um, sorry.”

Cecily sought comfort in the round of warm, deep laughter that met her apology.

“No problem, Babe, and I’m sorry I concerned you.” With a sexy growl, he swept her up in his arms, lying her down soft and gentle in the grasses beneath him. “To make up for it, do allow me to show you how a siren loves a woman.”

She purred, contented, as he kissed her senseless, the strands of his auburn hair falling soft across her breasts as his lips laid themselves into hers.

Next, he dipped his head to her neck, nipping and licking its sensitive nape before teasing her with a playful bite.

“Do we have an identity crisis here?” Cecily took in her breath as Logan slipped her wet suit down the length of her body, exposing her full breasts to the tickling tendrils of the ocean breeze. “One minute you’re a merman, the next you’re a vampire….”

And the next his wet, succulent mouth covered the peaks of her breasts, licking her nipples to aroused peaks as his hands massaged her buxom sides. Her back arched like a cat’s as his amazing finned form shifted down the length of her body; his fin wiggling adorably as he settled himself between her legs and stared up at her with adoring eyes.

“Do allow me to demonstrate, my lady, the magic of the merman’s kiss.”

With this, he peeled off her bathing suit and slid it down her legs; tossing it to the ground beside them with a devilish grin as he rubbed the skin of her womanly hips and braced his hands on her thighs. Then with a long resounding lick, he opened her feminine folds; fixing those delicious lips around her clit and suckling it as she moaned with delight.

Rocking her hips upward to intensify the feeling, she smiled as he laved her nub with a long, attentive tongue; his intimate licks sent shards of electric ecstasy careening through her body, causing her heart to pound and her pussy to gush.

“Baby,” she gasped out, twining her fingers through the strands of hair that shone bronzed in the sunlight. “It’s never felt this way—I never knew it could feel this good….”

She amended that opinion moments later, as he closed his lips around her clit and gave her the magic kiss; one that made her clit pound in the throes of an incredible orgasm.

Their hands clutched between them as her body erupted in a wave of vibrant and overwhelming heat; one that consumed and satisfied her to no end.

And still she wanted more.

With a ravenous growl, she clutched her lover’s shoulders and pulled him up the length of her body; thrilling as their chests pressed together and their arms and legs entwined.

“Um, hold up a minute.” Casting a startled look downward, Cecily realized with a jolt that a very human pair of legs, not to mention a mighty shaft that seemed to salute her presence, had replaced Logan’s fin. “You—um, precisely how do I phrase this?—look like a real dude. Only far better, you understand. That cock is just a killer—but of course I also appreciate you as a wonderful, and apparently an anatomically diverse, man….”

“Darling, darling.” Sweeping her up in a tight embrace, Logan let loose with a throaty chuckle as he settled himself between her legs. “Wouldn’t you rather make love, as opposed to talking so much?”

“Um….” Cecily’s eyes flew wide as he gyrated his hips hard against hers, teasing her femininity with the full length of his hot, hard shaft. “I’m gonna say, Yes!”

She uttered this exclamation as he dipped his head to lick and kiss her bare breasts; all the while cupping his hand between her legs and stroking her throbbing clit, stroking a fire he soon doused as finally they joined as one.

His lover threw her head back to bask in the sun as his shaft penetrated her pussy; driving forth to her core as he continued to kiss and cradle her.

She thrilled at the feel of his hair across her breasts as his hands rubbed and massaged her back; with a heated moan she thrust her hips upward to take him deeper into her.

Their hands and lips joined between them as they basked and writhed in the heat of the sun; kissing passionately as he thrust himself into her. Her breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest as her legs wrapped around his waist; the couple merged as one as their bodies erupted in the throes of an explosive orgasm.

Moments later, they clung together and basked in the heat of the sun, their bodies basking in the sweet afterglow of an incredible mutual climax.

“That was amazing.” Cecily cupped Logan’s carved cheeks in two tender hands; sinking in his arms as the couple shared a warm, tender beam. “It’s never been like that before, Logan.”

“Good to know, Cecily.”

The couple jumped at the sudden presence of a most unwelcome intruder; and Cecily gasped outright as her boyfriend Dallas, his nostrils flaring and eyes wide with fury, laid a firm grasp on her bare shoulders and pulled her roughly upward.

“Stop making a fool of yourself, Cecily!” Pinning her with a violent sneer, Dallas shook a stunned Cecily as she strained against his grasp. “Cover up that fat, ugly body and come back to our room—where you won’t be able to embarrass me.”

“Let go of me!” His girlfriend screamed, clawing her fingers down the length of his arms as he continued to seize and shake her.

Jumping to his feet with an enraged growl, Logan tore Cecily from Dallas’ clutches and shielded her with his muscular body; watching with satisfaction as his short, stout rival quivered in his presence.

“What you gotta say to me, Fagio?” Dallas raked the face and body of his rival with a condescending sneer.

Logan smiled. “Nothing, as a matter of fact.” He balled his fists at his sides. “I’m a man of action, not words.”

“And how.” Cecily waggled her eyebrows. “The man speaks the truth.”

Sending a quick wink in the direction of his lover, Logan hauled back his fist and struck his rival full in the face; grinning with satisfaction as he felt the crack of Dallas’ nose beneath the weight of his strike.

“You bastard!” Dallas grabbed his nose, doubling over as Cecily looked on with a guilty but vindicated smile.

Her grin faded seconds later, as her boyfriend stood upright and pointed an accusing finger in Logan’s direction.

“You’ll really be winking and preening, Beach Boy, when I call the Port Emerald cops on your ass.”

“Winking and preening? Beach boy?” Cecily shook her head, thinking herself lost in the incalculable depths of some cheesy B movie.

Then she paused to consider the gravity of Dallas’ words.

“If you care to call the police, Dallas, be sure to tell them how you were grabbing and shaking me.” She planted her hands on her hips.

Dallas snorted.

“OK,” he agreed, adding with a shrug, “I’ll also be sure to throw in how you two were naked and having sex in a public place.”

Cecily froze, a cold chill assailing her spine as she considered these words.

Suddenly she took hold of Logan’s shoulders, pushing him gently but with purpose in the direction of the water.

“He’s serious, Babe.” She regaled her lover with imploring eyes. “You’d better go.”

Tears flooded her eyes as he covered her hands with his, leaning inward to lean his head against hers.

“I won’t leave you with him,” he whispered, shooting a hard look in Dallas’ direction. “I want to protect you baby.”

For just a moment Cecily closed her eyes and held Logan to her, savoring and memorizing his scent, his touch, the sound of his deep voice. Silently she ran her hands over his shoulders, up his neck, through the long strands of his perfect silken hair, across the planes of his flawless face.

Then she let go.

“You’re too beautiful for this world,” she said and opened her eyes to devour the whole of his unbelievable beauty, once again committing his every brilliant feature—his bountiful waves of cinnamon brown hair, wide olive eyes, sculpted cheekbones and full, lush lips she’d too recently kissed—to memory.

Then she turned away.

“No, Cecily.” She cringed at the sound of Logan’s deep, strong voice, now tinged with a hint of anguish. “Don’t go back to him. Stay here, with me.”

Cecily stared straight ahead, refusing to look at either the stricken Logan or the smirking Dallas, who shot a triumphant smile in the direction of the merman as he rushed to catch up with her.

“For once you’re showing excellent taste, Babe.” He winked. “You made the right choice.”

His girlfriend shrugged, picking up her pace until she left him in the dust.

“To an extent I guess you’re correct.” She acknowledged him, but only briefly, with the slight inclination of her head. “I’ve decided to go home alone, Dallas, leaving behind the man of my dreams, as well as the product of my greatest nightmare.”

Dallas froze, considering her words with a thoughtful frown.

“Which one am I?” He shrugged in an astounding show of genuine perplexity.

A despairing Cecily buried her head in her hands and turned away.

* * * *

Tampa, Fla. 2012

Cecily was dog tired. No, she amended with a sigh, she’d bypassed ‘dog tired’ about two hours ago and now approached a comatose state.

“Not a bad idea, actually,” the 41-year-old shrugged, curling up at the edge of her daybed in the midst of a cluttered living room. “If I call in comatose to the diner tomorrow, maybe I could clean up this rat hole before the landlord kicks me to the curb. Or I could work on that illusive resume, then send it out to another company that’s ‘not hiring right now because of how things are.’ Or I could get all wild and crazy and get some sleep! Wow, what a concept!”

Twenty years ago this month, she’d mused, she’d been a freshman at a design school in Orlando, Florida. Fueled by dreams, ideas, and grant money, she’d graduated with honors, soon landing both an entry-level job at a local fashion house and this cute loft apartment.

“Well, at one time it was passing cute.” She cringed as she regarded her living space, which she hadn’t had time to clean or dust in months. “Now it’s motif can best be described as ‘cobweb chic,’ or perhaps ‘nouveau dust bunny.’”

After being ‘downsized’ at the fashion house (i.e., the rubenesque, raven-haired Cecily was told that if she didn’t go ‘down a size’ she’d be out of a job), she told her bosses to take their ‘haute couture’ way down south to the ‘hautest’ place around; immediately afterward she sought employment elsewhere.

“Probably a smart move,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around her legs and closing her eyes tight.

Indeed, it had been, as she soon landed a head designer post at a smaller, but friendlier, family run clothes business; a firm that folded four years ago, about the same time that her longtime boyfriend dumped her for another woman.

“She was wealthier, skinnier, and had bigger boobs,” she shrugged. “And now she has the biggest boob of all. Him.”

Not allowing herself time to grieve, she paid a prompt visit to her favorite local bistro; not to get drunk, as she really, really yearned to, but to get a job. Just something temporary that would hold her over until a full-time design position came along.

Four years had passed since her first day at Bette’s Bistro. She was still slinging burgers and beers, though she also managed to net an occasional design gig; most recently creating a size 2 wedding gown for an old college roommate, now a doctor engaged to a lawyer (“I love her to death,” she sighed, “but in a bizarre fit of jealousy I was about ready to give her a bridal frock that doubled as a mummification device”).