Torn from You (36 page)

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Authors: Nashoda Rose

Tags: #na, #new adult, #dark contemporary

BOOK: Torn from You
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It was then I let it go. All of the
mistrust, the pain, the hurt. I let it all go, and I let Logan’s
security wrap around my heart. He was mine, and I was his, and I
wanted
him to protect me. And it wasn’t because I was
passive or weak or helpless. It was because he gave me everything I
needed. A basic pure and raw need he fulfilled because he cared
about me.

Logan must have sensed some of my epiphany,
because he was there, reaching out his hand and taking me into his
arms.

Logan was my avalanche.

He crashed into my life again and wiped
everything bad between us away, until I was naked with nothing
except acceptance for what happened to us. It wasn’t me anymore; it
was us.

 

We spent the day on his bike, eating ice
cream, and talking, We laughed. We went to the city and saw Georgie
at the coffee shop then had dinner at the Brazen Head where we
first ate when we were a new couple over two years ago.

Logan even kissed me outside, up against the
wall like he’d done back then. We made it back to the farm record
time, though Logan took care to obey most traffic laws. He’d once
told me he liked to drive fast, but when I was with him, his cargo
was more precious than his pleasure. We didn’t stop to chat to Kite
and Ream sitting in the kitchen; instead, Logan dragged me upstairs
and we made love—hot, hard, and fast. Then I fell asleep nested
within his embrace.

I woke to Logan nuzzling my neck, his leg
between mine as he slid his cheek across my back. His arm draped
over my hip, fingers splaying on my stomach. I smiled as shivers
trickled across my skin when his velvet tongue licked the sensitive
part below my ear.

“Mouse?” The gravelly whispered words made
my insides ache to be taken again. “I can feel your heart
pounding.”

Linking my fingers with his, I pulled him
closer. We were still naked, and his cock jerked against my butt.
“Put it inside me, honey.”

He tensed.

I smiled.

Then he let my hand go, and his fingers
traveled down my skin until he slid into the heat between my legs.
“Shit, you’re wet.”

“I’m always wet for you.”

“Yeah. I love that.” He untangled our legs
then in a slow languid motion, he pushed himself inside me.

I groaned and pushed back against him.

“Damn. You’re tight.”

It was a slow before-breakfast sex, not the
hard desperate need of last night. Instead, he held me close, our
bodies connected, awakening from sleep with a slow ride into
stomach dropping ecstasy.

It was hot.

Logan kissed my neck, my back then held me
up against him while murmuring sweet words of love in my ear. Each
sensation was engraved in my mind, just like he was. We were set in
stone.

 

The morning was lazy as we made love twice
more, each time more intense than the last. I was raw and sore, but
as soon as he touched me, I was ready for him again. There was no
pretention, no worries, and I did as he wanted and left the
thinking out of the bedroom.

By eleven we ambled from our nest, and I
went to shower while Logan went to make some calls. He was on the
phone when I came downstairs, hair still wet. I could see Ream and
Kite outside by the pool talking.

Logan nodded to a mug sitting on the island
then he walked to the sliding door that led out to the pool. He
stepped out, and I sat on one of the stools and watched as he paced
back and forth, his brows lowered and the crease around his eyes
accentuated.

There was no doubt he was angry about
something. He took long strides; his muscles flexing beneath his
T-shirt, hair falling haphazardly across his forehead. I wanted to
encase him in my embrace and take away whatever was riling him
up.

He kicked one of the patio chairs, and it
toppled over. He looked up. Saw me. Stared for three seconds then
turned away and began pacing again.

When he came back inside he tossed his phone
on the counter and came right for me. He sat on the bar stool,
grabbed either side of my stool, and pulled me in close so my legs
were between his. Then he rested his hands on either side of my
outer thighs.

“You and me, we need time together. I’m
trying to get that time.” He rubbed his hands up and down my thighs
and a quiver shot through me. “But—”

“You’re giving me a but?” I raised my brows
and tilted my head.

He huffed. “Smart ass.”

I grinned. The first time we talked about
buts, he took my virginity.

Logan leaned in close and cupped my chin.

But
I love smart ass Emily. She’s cute, and I want to spend
the next sixty years listening to her.”

“Hmm, okay.” I leaned forward and went into
him, my mouth coming down on his as I took what I’d gone without
for far too long.

“I have to meet Deck this morning. We have
that party in a week, and we need to run over a few things.”

“The party. Right.” Logan had mentioned
something about a party a while ago.

“We’ve had one almost every year at Matt’s
bar since the band started, but this year we’re having it here.
Manager has organized a few producers to come hear us play.”

Oh. This was big for the band. “That’s
great, Logan. Really great.”

He nodded.

“Maybe I’ll come with you and go hang with
Georgie at the coffee shop while you talk to Deck.”

His face grew dark, and his hand tightened.
“No.”

“Why not? I don’t have any horses coming
today or clients, and I can ride Havoc later when it’s cooler. What
else am I going to do without you here?”

“Lie by the pool. Go back to bed. Watch a
movie. Just promise you won’t leave the farm. And no trail rides. I
want you close by.”

“Logan?” Something wasn’t right. Why didn’t
he want me going on a trail ride? Why close by? “What’s
happening?”

“Nothing, Eme. I just worry when I’m not
with you.”

I knew the second that he said the words
that he was avoiding telling me something when his index finger
tapped against my hip. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Jesus, it’s not that at all.

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

It felt like minutes before he spoke and I
could see him contemplate ignoring me, by the way he avoided
looking at me. Then he did and I wished he hadn’t because I knew
what he was going to tell me wasn’t good. “Deck has been looking
for Alfonzo. He was seen at the auction Raven was at. That’s how we
found out he’s alive.”

I felt sick to my stomach. I’d assumed
Alfonzo had died, if not when Logan had beaten him to a bloody pulp
then when the compound was taken down.

Logan cupped my cheek. “Alfonzo has no clue
about the farm. Deck’s men have made certain none of us have been
followed here for weeks.”

“You’ve know about this for weeks?” Of
course he had. That explained why he’d warned me to be careful, why
Deck came to get them at the bar. Why Logan came with me to Rob’s
farm to work with the racehorse. Or that could’ve been just as he
said—to be with me.

“Weeks, yes. But Alfonzo wasn’t a threat to
you. He was in New York up until yesterday. But, Deck’s man lost
him.” Logan kissed me and it was long and slow, lingering. “I tried
to cancel the party, but it’s not just me here. It’s the guys. They
need this. Deck’s doing security and is confident that the farm is
still safe. That might change though.”

I nodded. I was scared and nervous, but for
some reason not as much as I thought I would be. I was more focused
on the fact that Logan had trusted me to be able to handle this.
Because I knew Logan and the reason he hadn’t told me up until now
was because he didn’t want me feeling scared, or nervous.

“I guess I can stay inside and play with my
vibrator.”

Logan’s brows lowered, and his eyes got that
dark intensity. He was so sexy when he heard something he didn’t
like. “That pussy doesn’t get fucked, touched, or played with
without me. You need it, I’m happy to give it to you. But you,
lying in bed playing by yourself—no.”

I wanted to laugh; instead, I hid my smile,
because I thought laughing might be bad considering he looked
genuinely angry. I liked that he wanted to be the one to look after
my needs. It was hot, and I felt wanted, treasured. “Okay,
honey.”

“I love it when you call me that. Cute and
sweet.” He got up and walked over to the sink and started putting
dishes into the dishwasher. “What are you going to do while I’m
gone?”

“Guess I’ll ride your horse then lounge by
the pool.”

He stopped what he was doing and was quiet
for a second. “They’ve never been mine, Emily. Any horse here has
always been yours. The bike is my horse. I’m not getting on
anything that can kick, bite, and toss me on my ass.”

“A bike can toss you on your ass.”

“Yeah, but it’s not coming back to bite me
afterward.”

“Logan, the horses aren’t going to bite
you.”

“They can stand up on their hind legs and
dump me on my ass then come down on my head with big feet that cost
a fortune every few weeks to get manicures.”

I laughed. “You mean rearing up, and horses
don’t like to step on people. Actually, they avoid it at all costs,
and their feet are called hooves which need trimming every six
weeks or you’ll have crabby horses walking around on overgrown
turned up toes. For your information, Sculpt.” He growled low, and
then set the fork he had in his hand on the counter and started
stalking toward me. I moved to my feet, but not in time to avoid
his dive for me. He snagged my arm and, in one swoop, lifted me up
and over his shoulder.

“My real name. Always.”

“What are you talking about?” I teased.

“My name, say it.”

I knew what would happen and it made me
giddy inside. It had been a long time since I felt this playful and
relaxed. Fine, I could admit to being totally and irrefutably in
love. “And what if I don’t want to—Sculpt?”

He smacked my ass and started for the
stairs. “I’ll fuck you all day.” My heart rate tripled.

“You can’t. You’re meeting Deck.”

“Deck will understand.”

He squeezed my butt. “Sculpt. Stop.” But
really, I didn’t want him to stop anything as he took the stairs
two at a time, kicked the bedroom door open then closed, and then
threw me on the bed.

“Say my name.”

“Sculpt.”

He came down hard on top of me, already
tearing off my shirt. I struggled at first, laughing until his hand
brushed against my nipple, and I gasped.

“Logan,” I said, knowing if I didn’t he’d
torture me for longer than I wanted or could take.

“Again.”

“Logan.”

“You won’t do that again, will you?”

I hesitated.

“Tell me.”

“No, Logan.”

His mouth came down hard on mine, and then
he fucked me.

 

 

We had a week of lying by the pool and
having sex and doing nothing but being together. He did spend some
time with the band practicing, but the guys made themselves scarce
whenever they could. I rarely saw Kat, and my guess was she was
staying at the condo with Matt most nights. Whether it was to give
Logan and me some time alone or to avoid Ream, I didn’t know for
sure, but I was guessing the latter.

Georgie popped by with Deck, and we hung by
the pool while Deck and Logan went off to chat. Logan had been
strung up as tight his guitar strings, but he played it off as
nothing but the plans for the party. I knew it was Alfonzo that was
getting to him, but when I asked about it he threw me over his
shoulder then took the stairs two at a time and tossed me on the
bed where he had me forgetting everything except him between my
legs. Then we did some slexing, and ate our next meal in bed.

It was sweet, and he fed me grapes and wine.
He commanded and I surrendered to him. I never thought I’d find
submitting to a man again sensual after what I’d seen in Mexico,
but it wasn’t about that. It was about submitting to the love we
shared. I realized giving up my control to Logan didn’t make me
weak. It was my escape. My need, and he was fulfilling that by
giving me what I needed. It was about complete openness and
trust.

And I did love him. I never stopped; it had
just been smothered.

“Eme.”

I looked up. Logan had stopped playing his
guitar and was looking at me with eyes that were so exposed and
revealing. I felt like I could see right into them, all his desires
and strength, even a hint of uncertainty that lay beneath the
depths.

We were sitting in the horse field like we
used to do, and he was playing me the new song the band was
debuting tonight at the party. It was mellow, raw, crass, and it
brought tears to my eyes. His voice cut through the words as if he
hurt to say them.

It was called “Torn from You,” and it was
about us.

He reached forward and wiped the stray tear
from my cheek. I leaned into his hand and smiled, closing my eyes.
I never thought we’d get back to this place. I think I was afraid
to hope that we could.

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