BAD Beginnings (8 page)

She squinted at his features in the shadows. “And what exactly is that?”

He sighed. “Who the fuck knows.”

C
hapter Twelve

T
he weight of his deception
had become an elephant on his conscience. He was a convict. Albiet, a wrongly convicted one, but still…he wasn’t a highly polished executive used to all the fancy trimmings. He was no different than the guy in the woods with the horn other than he’d yet to spend a night sleeping under the stars alone. That might change should he confess his story.

But it was time.

A blast of wind ruffled Gemma’s hair and he sighed. Yes, he’d follow her anywhere. God she was pretty. But he couldn’t lead her down a road that would surely end up causing pain. It wouldn’t be right. Or fair.

He felt a twinge in his chest and rubbed. Since when had his life been fair? The thought made him shiver. “Let’s go inside, it’s a bit too chilly out here.” He stood and waited as she led the way. She reached to the wall plate and touched the switch to close the sliding glass. It refused to respond. She moved her fingers and pressed again.

Nada.

“Which one is it?” She pressed another.

“The one on the…” he stopped as a creaking noise across the dark room revealed a panel in the wall. It slid to expose a hallway. Blue fluorescent lights flickered on and the entire scene felt like the entry to a sleazy bar. A fake wall? A safe room? Was this guy that paranoid or that dangerous?

“Oh my God, a hidden room Logan?” Her eyes popped to meet his gaze, seeking an answer he couldn’t give.

Because he didn’t know. Was that where the guy kept his blow? Or something else? Maybe that’s where he went to recoup his massive injuries? His curiosity was as deep as Gemma’s. “What can I say? Everyone should have a safe room to keep their things safe, right?”

“Assuming we have important things worth keeping safe, I guess. Can I look?” She swallowed nervously. Logan noted a nervousness to her words and a pallor to her skin. Was she afraid? Her eyes darted toward the bar where her bag resided.

Something deep in his core shivered and prodded him to say no. He had no idea what was down that eerie hallway and he abhorred surprises. “Wait.” Before they ventured into that unknown chamber, he had to clear the air. “I have to tell you something.”

She turned toward him. The glow of the lights created a halo over her hair and shadowed her face into total darkness. “I’m here.”

He strode forward, needing to read the expression on her face when he divulged his identity. The fluorescent light flickered over his head as if to chastise. “I can’t really continue the charade Gemma. It’s not right. I’m not--” A tiny sizzle and zap signaled the darkness that followed and he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He bumped solidly into her, instantly the scent of her skin flooded over his senses. The force of his body against hers sent both of them in an overbalance. “Oh, sorry.” He wrapped a hand around her waist to steady them both then cursed for the touch. How was he to expose his lie when he couldn’t see her and know her thoughts?

The heat of her breath washed against his collarbone then her shaking fingers entwined in the fabric of his shirt. “It’s okay. I know. I can feel the difference.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Really? You can tell?”

She let out a nervous laugh and her chest surged against his own. “I wish I couldn’t.”

“It’s not fair, you know.” He ran a hand up her arm and stroked his thumb against her cheek. “You shouldn’t be so gorgeous. It’d make this a lot easier.”

“That would be a lot easier to believe if we weren’t in complete darkness at the moment.” She hiccupped. Was she drunk? God, he hoped not—that would make it even worse. He lifted her face and the tip of his thumb felt damp. No, she was crying.

“What’s wrong, Gem?” He moved his other hand from her waist so he could encase her face in his palms. “Did I hurt you? Step on your foot?”

She thumped her head to his chest as she hooked her fingers into the belt of his pants. “No, nothing that easy. It’s just—I wish things were different, that’s all.”

He heaved a sigh and wondered at the slight bit of encouragement she’d given. Her hands continued to tremble and he pulled them from his pants to hold them against his chest. “So do I, believe me. But I can’t think about that at the moment.”

It was now or never. As soon as the light came back on and exposed him for who he wasn’t, it would all end. So he did what felt right. He leaned down and put his lips softly to hers and let a moan escape. God he wanted her. All the other fancy shit around them could fall to pieces. Who cared? He’d been broken. He’d been jobless. He’d been without family. He could do that again but hell, this wasn’t the same. Something in his brain locked up. He couldn’t imagine hurting this woman.

He tried to break free but Gemma thrust a hand into his hair and held firm. Their breaths mingled between them, heating the air and filling his nostrils. Her lips trailed his then before he could back away, her tongue flitted over his lower lip. Oh shit. Logan crushed his mouth to hers and drew the flesh of her skin inside, tasting her fullness. He shoved his hands down to her hips and yanked her tight, feeling the throb of his own body in response. Guilt and fear battled his libido and lost. This was his moment and by God, he’d have it—even if it would only be a memory for the rest of his life. “You feel amazing. Gemma, I want you so fucking bad.”

A noise came from her that sounded as close to a purr as he could imagine. Her hands clutched into his right pectoral and he growled low and deep in response. “You feel pretty great yourself.” When her hands returned to his pants he wanted to plead for release. He kept silent and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her lips against his neck then down his chest. She tugged his shirt up and over his head. It dropped to the floor with a whisper. When she flicked her tongue over his nipple then bit softly into the flesh he wanted to melt into the floor. Instead he leaned hard into her touch. She fumbled with the zipper of his jeans. He should stop her. The ratchet sound of his fly opening filled the silence. Warmth encased him as her hands enclosed over his hardness.

Logan sucked in a deep breath and cursed. Her fingers kneaded him, coaching him to respond. God help him, he did. He wasn’t ready—he wanted it to last. Dropping to the floor, he shoved her skirt up until it circled her hips then licked along her thigh until he met the softness he’d dreamed of the night before. He delved further and Gemma grasped her hands to the back of his scalp. Her stilted breathing encouraged him to enjoy the liquid heat of her core.

“Oh, God. Logan. Oh, it’s…” Gemma shuddered and let out a soft squeal as the orgasm ripped through her in spasms. Holy Christ she felt good—he could do that all night. He kept going until she pulled his hair and begged him to stop. He slowly rose to wrap his arms around her and draw her tight against his skin. He had no idea how long they embraced. Eventually she pushed a hand against his arm. “This isn’t over.”

Unfortunately, it was. The light flickered again like a disco ball on a dance floor and she was bathed in the iridescence. It was surreal. He wanted to step back and survey all of her, the raised skirt, the silk panties he’d pulled to the floor, her smooth skin. But he wanted to keep touching her more.

A clicking noise made both of them turn toward the darkness beyond their tiny space. “What was that?” she asked, her breathing stilted.

He shook his head. “No clue.”

Smoothing her skirt over her ass, Gemma padded barefoot toward the darkness. Where’d he tossed her shoes? He looked back at the trail of their clothes and smiled. The throbbing in his body still hadn’t been satisfied but he wanted her to know who she was with before they went any further. He wanted her to be with him, not Logan. Was that selfish?

A gasp echoed toward him. “Wow. Don’t you think this is overkill? You obviously have some paranoid fears that I wasn’t aware of.”

What did that mean? He followed, noting the room was hard to make out with the hall light. Still, she was right. It appeared to be stocked with supplies of food and blankets on shelves that lined the far wall. Some furniture, a desk, a file cabinet, and a freezer chest filled the space and left only short walking spaces between. A wall plate next to him caught his attention and he pressed the switch. The track lighting above them blared to life. “Is it paranoid to be prepared for any scenario?”

She shrugged. “I was hoping for something…else.”

He lifted a brow. “Else?”

“You know, a sex slave room, or something more exciting than rows of boxes and blankets.”

He wanted to laugh but couldn’t seem to get a grip on the relief of finding—just a room. He half expected to find the real Logan, battered and cold. “Sorry to disappoint…but we could move things around a little and still do that sex slave thing if you want.”

Gemma surveyed the row of perfectly symmetrical boxes, each with a label proclaiming the contents. “What? And mess up your perfectly organized system? How would you ever find anything? Look, there’s your car tools.” She pointed to the label. Her finger moved to the left. “And your woodworking tools. I doubt you’ve ever misplaced anything in your life. Have you?”

Except maybe the real Logan Indiris. He shrugged. “Everyone needs tools. How many times have you needed a hammer or a screwdriver and couldn’t find one?”

Gemma strolled along the boxes, trailing her fingers over the labels in a waving pattern that made him want those fingers back on his body. “Good point. Nothing is lost here.”

Logan sighed. She was wrong. Everything was lost now because they shouldn’t have met in the first place. They wouldn’t have if she’d figured him out to begin with. “I’m lost. You obviously know who I am—or who I’m not. Where do we go from here?”

Gemma’s eyes narrowed as she rotated to meet his gaze. Her lips turned seductively into a sexy grin that made him instantly hard.

“We go forward, of course.”

A
bout Shelley

Shelley K. Wall was born near Kansas City, the middle daughter of three. She is a graduate of Oklahoma State University with additional post graduate work there and at the University of Wyoming extension in Casper. She worked for many years in Information Technologies, as a Network Engineer, a Project Manager, Operations Director, and I.T. Department Head. Above her writing efforts, she continues to maintain her technical certifications in various technologies and consults regularly on projects.

She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Sisters In Crime (SinC), the Houston Literary Guild, and various technical organizations.

Her first release, Numbers Never Lie, debuted in 2012 and was an Amazon Daily Deal in January. It soared to number three for romantic suspense, eight for contemporary romance, and seventeen in overall romance on the Amazon Bestsellers List.

Want to know what happens next? Look for
BAD Discoveries
coming soon..

Other titles by Shelley include

Wilder Titles:

Bring It On(2012),

The Designated Drivers’ Club(2012),

Flood Flash and Pheromones(2013),

Chloe’s Secret(2013),

Disgruntled (2013),

Milder Titles:

Numbers Never Lie (2012)

Text Me(2014),

Find Me (2014),

Need Me(2015.)

Shelley is represented by Dawn Dowdle of Blue Ridge Literary Agency.

Website: http://shelleykwall.com

Blog: http://shelleykwall.wordpress.com

Twitter: @skwallbooks