“I thought I heard you talking when I was in the shower. On the phone?”
She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Can’t you just leave it alone?”
“Not if it’s bothering you. Did Brad call you? Do I need to have a chat with him?”
“You’re kidding, right?” She scoffed. “I can just imagine how that would go. I doubt there’d be much talking.”
“Not if I had my way.”
“Leave it be. Brad didn’t call. My stepfather did.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell him that you were with me,” he said.
“Um . . . no. Not in the mood to start World War Three. He was already unhappy that I’d ended things with Brad.” She stared pensively out the windshield. “Then he begged me to walk away from this case.”
“Probably the only thing we’ve ever agreed on.”
Tara turned to him, looking stunned. “After all the progress I’ve made, you still want me to quit? You think I can’t handle it, but you’re dead wrong. I’ll have you know that—”
“Down, tigress.” Logan stopped at a red light that seemed pointless in the sparse Saturday predawn streets. “I agree that you’ve been doing well. I’ve always known that you’re absolutely capable of doing whatever you set your mind to, and I respect the hell out of that. As the man who loves you, though, I’d rather have you out of danger.”
There it was again, his seemingly casual declaration of love, spoken as he pulled into a fast food drive thru. Nice weather. Pass the creamer. I love you. Tara shook her head.
After last night, they’d been as close as two people could get. It was only natural, she supposed, that he’d feel something for her. As he got closure and started to move on, he’d likely see that it wasn’t really love, not anymore. Even so, his words softened her.
As soon as they got their food and steaming caffeine, she turned to Logan. “I can’t back out. Darcy was my roommate in college. She lost her parents on 9/11. They were on the plane that crashed into the South Tower. She’d been an admin of justice major anyway, but after that day . . . I held her hands a lot, cried with her. I even talked her into joining the FBI as a way to honor their memories and protect others from suffering the same loss. I feel partially responsible and—”
“Cherry, shh. You may have given her the idea, but she followed through because she wanted to. Would she want you going undercover to save her before you’re ready?”
Darcy probably wouldn’t want her to go at all. “I have to. She’s tough and smart, and I know if anyone could stay alive in a hostile situation, she’d be the one.”
“You didn’t answer the question. Would Darcy want you to do this before you’re ready?”
God, he just didn’t give up. “No. According to her, I have a lot of fortitude but the heart of a marshmallow.”
Logan had never met Darcy, but he liked her already. “That sounds about right. Really, I want you to think carefully about this.”
“I’m committed.” She crossed her arms over her petite chest, looking as determined as he’d ever seen her. “I owe it to her. And I owe it to me. I’m not unhappy behind a desk, but I need to know if the field is where I belong. My life has been missing something, and I keep thinking that it’s—I don’t know—having an actual life.”
Boy, Brad had bored the shit out of her, and Tara had taken the blame upon herself. In Logan’s mind, she thrived behind a desk, solving riddles that most people would never fathom. She’d always loved puzzles and brainteasers, but this was one she was going to have to figure out for herself.
And it was his job to make sure she stayed alive long enough to do it.
“Then let’s focus on getting you ready. We’ve got four days. We’re going to need every minute.”
He parked the truck, and they both climbed out. Despite spending half the night inside her, Logan was hard as nails just thinking about the preparation she needed next.
As they entered the building, he grabbed her hand. She tried to pull away discreetly. Fuck that.
He leveled her a stare heavy with disapproval. “You’re kidding? After last night, you won’t touch me?”
“That was separate from this. I don’t think we should bring our personal stuff into our training sessions.”
Logan held her hand tighter. “You’re not putting distance between us when what we need most is trust and connection.”
Cherry gnawed on her bottom lip as she walked down Dominion’s long corridor, clearly thinking. He knew why she was backing away; she wasn’t ready to admit yet that last night was the birth of something new, rather than the burial of old feelings. He’d make sure she understood the difference soon.
“Fine.”
Logan ran his key card through the mechanism beside his dungeon door. It popped open, and he pushed it wide, easing her in. He left the door cracked behind him.
“We’re in the dungeon now. Rephrase.”
Tara didn’t look pleased. “Yes, Logan.”
But she was so damn adorable that he wanted to kiss her senseless.
“Good. What else should you be doing now that we’re here?”
She rolled her eyes and started to pull off her clothes. “What is your fascination with me being naked?”
He nuzzled her neck, running his tongue over one of the love bites he’d left there. “If you have to ask that after last night, I’d be happy to demonstrate again.”
With a frown, she landed a mock punch on his shoulder. “I meant Doms in general. Does the sub having clothes put them on too level a playing field?”
“Not exactly. It’s that subs are often feeling their most vulnerable and open when they’re naked. It’s a natural state, but for most of our lives, we’re told that it’s not. The Dom’s job, in part, is to strip off the artifice to get to the real person underneath. So in that way, clothes are symbolic. And subs are less likely to put on a front with nothing to hide behind.”
“I don’t like it,” she said, folding the last of her clothes and handing them to him.
“Because it makes you feel vulnerable. I see it in the flush that pinks up your skin, in the slouching of your shoulders, the way you try to look anywhere but at me.”
Tara glared. “Now I just don’t like you.”
She was teasing . . . and yet not. She really didn’t like feeling vulnerable with him when she was so off balance. Time and trust would heal that. He just hoped he could convince her of his abiding love, that it was safe to give him her trust, before his time with her ran out.
“Undercover, that won’t be tolerated. Shoulders back, breasts out. Eyes on me, Cherry. Now.”
Dragging in a deep breath, she did as she was told. Her posture improved a hundred percent. His respect for her determination went up a thousand.
“Did you kids start without me?” Xander called from the doorway, then sauntered across the room.
Tara stiffened. She didn’t cover up, but he could tell she fought the urge. Pride at her progress surged, even as he wanted to clobber Xander for his mischief. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to explain today’s lesson to Tara.
“Damn, she looks pretty,” Xander commented. “Edible, even. I need a taste.”
Logan glared at his friend as he circled Tara to wrap a naked hand on her hip and drop a kiss on her bare shoulder. When he saw Xander’s tongue hit her soft skin, Logan nearly lost it.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
Xander smiled as he pulled back.
“What is going on here?” Tara demanded.
Both he and Xander turned disapproving stares on her.
“Watch your attitude, Cherry,” he warned. “I won’t spank your ass again until the bruises fade, but I know plenty of other ways to make you suffer. You won’t come for hours until you remember how you do and don’t address me on this assignment.”
Instantly, she pressed her lips together. “Yes, Logan.”
“Good.” He rubbed a soothing hand across her shoulder. “Xander is here to help us with the next phase of your training. I’m not going to tell you too much about it yet, because you need to learn to be ready for anything. Understood?”
Tara wanted to argue, but didn’t. “Yes, Logan.”
“Good girl. Stay here.” Then he scowled at Xander as he moved to the cabinet in the corner. “Keep your hands off. Take a seat.”
Xander strolled to the bed and sat. “This ought to be a great show. Wish I’d brought popcorn.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Tara shoot Xander a quelling glare and pretended not to notice. The bastard deserved that and more. Logan would have to make sure that she knew better than to disrespect any other Doms . . . but he was getting ahead of himself.
“Cherry, lean over the spanking bench.”
She glanced at the apparatus, hesitated, then looked at him. He raised a brow, but waited wordlessly. Logan saw her brace herself, then comply, draping her figure over the leather top with grace.
After gathering the things he needed, he crossed the room and set everything on a table out of Tara’s sight. Quickly, he clipped her in, then took a breath.
For the purposes of this mission, this preparation may save her pain. For their relationship, it was equally important. If she didn’t enjoy this, Logan wouldn’t love her less—but he’d always want to possess her more completely. After years of barriers between them, he didn’t like the idea of enduring more.
In fact, last night, he’d been aware that he hadn’t used a condom. They hadn’t discussed birth control at all. Children were something they should talk about, but he wanted them with Tara, and everything about her made him want to embrace life full throttle. For the first time in years, he felt truly alive and he wanted to share it, spread it, breed it.
He glanced at Tara, and the thought she could already be pregnant made him harder than steel. One thing at a time, buddy. Get her out of this mission alive. Then get a collar around her neck and a ring on her finger.
Logan unscrewed the tube of lube, then squeezed it on the pink plastic plug. Moment of truth . . .
He sidled up behind her. “You ever been taken anally?”
His guess was that she hadn’t, but he needed to hear her say it.
Tara stiffened. “No.”
“That’s okay. We’ll get you ready.”
“F-For anal sex?
“Yes.” He bent over her, draping her gorgeous ivory skin with his body. He whispered, “And before you ask, yes, with me. I want to be the first one to take you here.”
The only one.
She shivered, and he placed a palm on her bare back. “Don’t tense. We’ll go slow.”
But she wasn’t relaxing. Logan rubbed his palms across her stiff shoulders, dragged his thumbs down the outline of her spine, easing tight muscles. He traced the curve of her waist, kissed her shoulder blade. Gradually, the tension left her body.
“Good girl. I’m starting simple. This shouldn’t hurt. You have a few days to take something more substantial. For now, the plug should simply feel foreign. If it hurts, say so. If it really hurts, say your safe word. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Logan.” Her reply sounded breathy.
God, that sound went straight to his dick, too. He’d imagined that fucking her repeatedly last night would give him more self-control. Today, he was fighting for it harder than ever.
He curled one palm around her hip, sliding back across the lush globe of one cheek, frowning at the fading purplish bruise there. On her other cheek, he saw another that looked fainter, a greenishyellow. And he chastised himself. He was going to have to be damn careful with her.
Squeezing some lube on his fingers, Logan rubbed it with his thumb to warm it a bit, then inserted his fingers between her delectable cheeks until he found her untried opening. As he touched her there, she clenched tight.
Slowly, patiently, he pressed in with the tip of his finger. “Relax, Cherry. Breathe.”
She did as he asked. Her muscles let go, and he slipped inside her, up to the first knuckle.
Shit. Hot, tight, she felt like heaven. Once he got his dick inside her here, no way he would last long. He was damn well going to have to temper himself until she got acclimated to anal penetration.
Provided she even liked it.
Tara drew in a shuddering breath. Her head lifted and she turned to glance at him over her shoulder. Her cheeks were rosy with color, her brown eyes slowly dilating. He couldn’t stand not feeling her reaction for another second, so he wedged his free hand between the bench and her body, then lowered his fingers to her pussy—and he smiled.
“You like this, Cherry?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re wet.”
“I like the idea of it.”
That was honest—and half the battle. Maybe she just needed a bit more to figure it out.