Beyond Layers: Layer Series Book Four (Layers Series 4) (13 page)

“No. Just do it.”

Just do it? This isn’t a friggin’ Nike commercial.

“Samantha?”

“Um. Yeah. Just do it. Whatever you want,” I answer, as his talented thumb draws circles over my clit.

Soon, I’m so turned on I can barely breathe. If I had to see, I’m sure I couldn’t see straight.

“Logan,” I moan.

As his fingers leave my pussy, I mourn their lost, but I’m good as long as his thumb continues to draw circles around my clit. His cock pushes past the ring of fire, but it only scorches for seconds. I can’t believe it. It’s not as if I’m an expert at anal; I’ve only done this with two other guys, and one, when I was very inebriated. Still, I thought with a cock as big and thick as his, I’d be in agony, begging him to pull out.

All I can say is this man has magic pussy fingers; he knows how to handle more than a stick. He knows his way around a woman’s body, knows how to turn this woman into Jell-O.

When he’s balls deep, he moans. “Fuck, angel. I knew you’d feel good, but never… My cock was made for every one of your holes.”

I groan-moan. “Don’t dirty talk, Logan. I’m riding the edge.”

“Now, remember the game. You don’t get to come until I say so.”

Man, I so hate this game.
“I don’t think I can hold on, or out.”

“You can, angel. And when you do, you’ll thank me.”

Thank you, for not letting me come? I don’t think so, Mr. Sexkabob.

“Here we go, angel.”

He starts a slow rhythm. My ass is glued to him, surrounding him so tightly it’s a wonder he can move at all, and I can breathe at all.

“Fuck,” he says. “So goddamn perfect, angel. I’m so close.”

You are! For hell!

“Oh, God,” he moans.

“If I don’t come soon—like, now—I’m going to seize and my brain is going to bleed out of my ears.”

The asswad chuckles between his grunting moans.

He thinks I’m kidding. I’m so not.

His magic pussy fingers return. “Okay, angel. Touch heaven.”

I slide over the edge and fall from the cliff. But I don’t spiral on down the canyon; I catch a wave and ride. I ride and ride, and just when I’m about to bail, he pinches my clit and my ride continues until I hit the shore. Never in my life have I come so many times, or was it one big awesome wave? I haven’t a clue and I don’t care. I’ve been fucked silly, the most epic orgasm of my life.

I don’t even hear or feel Logan’s release; I’m so wrapped up in my own pleasure, my own cocoon of paradise. When he collapses on top of me, I figure he’d come undone.

He carefully pulls his cock from my tight hole and falls down next to me.

I look at him. I’m sure grinning like the stupidest just-been-fucked-to-heaven idiot—ever.

His grin takes over the lower half of his face. “Well?”

“This angel just got her wings.”

He kisses me long and hard. “I’m going to wash up, angel. Prepare yourself for round two.”

Round two?

He gets up and struts to the bathroom, whistling Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven.”

Cocky bastard
.

Round two was slow, needy, aching lovemaking. Logan made love to me, not with just his body, but with his soul. As he sleeps, his arms encompassing me, holding me tight, his sweet breath on my shoulder, I cry big ugly tears. He’s so right, he has ruined me, soiled me for all others. Every time a man looks at me with lust-filled eyes, I’ll see his eyes. Every time a man holds me, I’ll feel his arms. Every time a man enters me, I’ll ache for his cock. No man will ever fill me the way he does. No man will ever make me feel like he does.

I hate him because I want this—us. I hate him because I’ve fallen in love with him and I can’t have him—us. I hate myself for letting him in, for being selfish. There can never be an us, because I will destroy him. I will kill him. Then, I will die.

“U
ncle Logan! Uncle Logan!”

Matt shuts the door behind us.

I hold out my arms. “There’s my princess.”

Krissy runs down the entry hall, jumping into my arms.

I catch her and twirl her around as she gifts me with a big wet three-year-old-princess kiss on my check.

Matt drops his bag and gear near the door and holds out his arms. “Hey, princess. Am I invisible?”

Krissy giggles. “No, Daddy. I see you all the time.”

I whisper in her ear, “Your Daddy had a bad week. He could use a kiss from his favorite princess.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I’m his only princess, silly.”

I put her down and she runs to her dad. I walk into the kitchen and lift a lid off a simmering pot.

A dishtowel connects with my ass. “Hey, nose out, Romano.”

Matt walks in, carrying Krissy over his shoulder. “Wife, I’m home.”

Allie rolls her eyes at her husband.

He frowns. “Why is it my best friend, and butt-ugliest friend, gets all the good lovin’ from
my
girls?”

“You’re not supposed to say
ugly,
Daddy. It’s a
no-no
word.”

“Yeah, Dad,” I tell him, getting a beer out of the fridge.

Allie kisses her husband. “I missed you, you big old bear.”

He growls, kissing her back.

My best guy friend, Matt Hutchings’, nickname is Bear. He’s big, tall and hairy and one of the NHL’s biggest and best goalies.

Allie kisses me on the cheek. “How was your week, Romeo?”

Yes, she said Romeo. Romeo is my nickname. I think you can guess why.

Allie James-Hutchings is the bear’s wife. We met Matt in college. They fell in love. The rest is history, as they say.

Matt puts Krissy down and picks up his five-foot-eight, fifteen-month-pregnant wife, twirling her around as if she were a feather.

“Put me down, you silly old bear. You’re squashing your son.”

He puts her down, his big hands resting on her shoulders; he looks into her eyes. “Son… Did you say son?”

Huge smile. “Yes, I did, baby. We’re having a son.”

He picks her up and twirls her around again, laughing like a madman.

When her feet meet the tiled floor, I kiss her on the cheek and guy-hug Matt. “Congratulations, man. I knew you had it in you.”

Grinning like a fool, he says, “I’m goin’ to have a son.”

“Well, technically, I’m having him,” Allie teases him.

“And I’m having a brother,” Krissy tells me.

I pick her up. “Yes, you are. And I know you’re going to be the best big sister ever, princess.”

We knuckle bump, princess style of course—pinkies out. “The best in all the kingdom,” she says.

“We should go out and celebrate,” Matt says.

“We are, Daddy,” Krissy says. “Mommy’s making spaghetti.”

Allie is my best friend, and I love her, but she can’t cook for shit. Spaghetti from a jar is as good as it gets.

Allie looks at me, raising a brow.

“What?”

She raises both brows. I nod, finally getting the clue. “I’ve got an idea. Matt, why don’t you take your lovely, is-having-
your
-son, wife out for dinner and me and my princess can have spaghetti?”

“Can we eat it in my castle?” Krissy asks me.

“Where else would a princess eat?”

She giggles. “Of course. How silly of me.”

I kiss her cheek and set her down.

“I better go clean my castle, so you can fit in it, Uncle Logan.”

We knuckle bump and she runs out of the kitchen to clean her room so I can fit.

Matt gets a beer out of the fringe and we sit at the bar. “Where do you want to go, Al?”

“I don’t know. It’s Friday night and it’s too late for reservations. Wouldn’t you agree, Logan?”

I look at her. She raises both brows again.

“What?”

“You know. The city, no reservations,
nowhere to stay
.”

“Oh,” I say, getting it.

She shakes her head at me.

I put my hand on Matt’s shoulder. “You know what you should do, man. You should spend the night in my hotel room. I only have it for a few more weeks, and you’ve been saying how much fun it would be for you and Allie to be alone, in a hotel room, at the Waldorf. A room that’s
paid
for.”

“What? I don’t rem—”

I kick his shin.

“What was that for?”

I raise my brow.
Hint. Hint.

“Oh yeah, now I remember telling you about that.”

Allie gives me a knowing smile.

“What do you think, babe?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea, dear. Why don’t you go pack, while I go over things with Logan?”

He downs his beer. “Okay. I think I’ll take a shower before we go,” he says, putting his bottle in the recycle bin.

She kisses him on the cheek and he leaves us.

She slaps the side of my head. “For hell, Romano. We just talked about it last night.”

I chuckle. “Sorry, lots on my mind.”

She tilts her head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Big frown. “Yes, Mom, I feel great.”

“No palpitations? No dizziness?”

“I’m fine, doctor,” I say, with a bite.

She raises her hands. “Okay, I’ll let it go.” She leans over the counter. “So,” she grins, “last night?”

“I didn’t call her.”

She slaps the side of my head, again. “Logan. What the fuck?” She throws up her hands. Allie’s a big fan of hand gestures and head slapping.

“Anna checks every box on your stupid list. She’s beautiful.
Check.
” She gestures an over-the-top check-off. “She’s independent, financially and otherwise.
Check.
She’s a fucking doctor for Christ sakes.
Check
.
Check.
She knows nothing about hockey, has never gone to a game.
Check. Check. Check.
She’s everything you told me you wanted.”

“I also told you I’m not dating.”

Big sigh. “Logan, it’s been over two months since your fuck-fest at the beach. There’s millions of women in this city, how in the hell are you going to find her?”

“I don’t know. I just know I will. Sam and I are destined.”

Bigger sigh. “Logan, I know you care for Sam, but”—she throws up her hands, waving them in my face—, “major red friggin’ flags, waving in your beautiful face.”

I get up, get out another beer, and lean back against the fridge. I down half of it before I respond. “First of all, it wasn’t a fuck-fest.”

She shakes my shoulders. “Ugh! You’re driving me friggin’ crazy. Logan, the woman wouldn’t even let you take her picture. She wouldn’t tell you anything about her. She doesn’t want you to find her. In other words, she’s trouble, with a capital
T.
”
She gestures a capital
T
, looking more like a Chinese letter.

“If you met Matt, spent a couple of weeks with him, and fell crazy-mad in love with him, would you not try to find him?”

“Not if he told me he didn’t want to be found.”

I take another swig of my beer. “I don’t believe you.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Logan, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. I hate to break it to you, Romeo, but maybe she’s just not into you?”

I shake my head. “No fucking way.” I down the rest of my beer and throw both empties in the recycle bin.

“Logan, you’re my best friend. The same babysitters changed our diapers. We’ve shared secrets. You were my bridesman. You’ve seen my tits.”