Surviving Him (8 page)

We laugh so much I think my sides split into two. I feel like a schoolgirl again.

“I’ve got all the Scottish you need right here, babe. I’m all yours.”

My head spins slightly, probably because I have been holding my breath, and trying not to fall on my ass.

“You fancy a glass of wine?” he asks.

“Don’t mind if I do. Its lunchtime and we are on holiday.”

He must be reading my mind. He heads into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle and two glasses. I don’t hear him come up behind me, until I feel his soft, warm lips brush the side of my neck up to my ear. I can’t stifle the soft moan that escapes my lips, as he presses his large frame against my back and wraps his powerful arms around my body pulling me tighter against him.

“Oh my god, you feel so amazing.” Logan whispers in to my ear.

I groan. All I can see is the inside of my eyelids.

I hear him set down the bottle and the two glasses. His hands are at my hips pulling me to him again. He pushes my hair to one side, exposing more of my flesh. My body quivers in anticipation, as I feel his soft heartfelt lips trailing kisses from the top of my neck and back down. I am completely weak at this moment, unable to move.

His firm yet gentle lips lift a whimper from somewhere deep inside me, my body coming alive again as if his body is the other half of a missing circuit. My reaction encourages him even more, and he presses his body against mine hungrily, as I feel his length growing against my bum.

“Fuck, I missed your taste and your smell,” he breathes into my skin.

The wave of pleasure begins at my neck and rushes through my whole body. The sensation he sends through me, with the touch of his lips alone, makes me moan even more. I feel the electric pulses throbbing between my legs, my body aching for him severely.

I whisper incoherent words, encouraging him to kiss me. He lets out a deep predatory growl before locking his lips on mine.

I turn on my heels and hang on to his biceps, as I steady myself on unstable feet and weak knees just to keep myself from falling to the floor.

“Oh my god.”

I am wet and needy; the throbbing between my legs becoming too much to handle.

“Logan,” I moan into his lips, our tongues duelling.

He answers my plea with an all-male, primal growl that vibrates into my mouth and gains momentum as it surges right between my legs.

I run my hands through his mousy, light-brown curly hair, and I kiss him, moaning as I do. His light sea-blue eyes full of lust lock with mine, as he presses gentle, soft kisses on my lips, cheeks then back to my lips. I have missed the way he kisses me. His hands slide all over my body devouring every inch, and then he picks me up and sits me on the kitchen counter. He moves to stand between my legs, our bodies flush against each other’s, touching, warm, hard muscles pressing to my soft places. There couldn’t have been a worse time to interrupt our perfect moment of reconnection, but that’s a knack kids seem to have, starting at birth.

“Mum.”

At that we pull apart. I nearly fall on the floor, breathless and shocked straight back into reality, like being doused with ice water. Logan catches me in time before I can rack up another injury.

I stand up, frantically trying to straighten myself, my hair and clothes all out of place. I reach for my wine glass and take a huge gulp. The girls walk into the kitchen a moment later, buzzing with excitement about something at their gran’s house and then they leave as quick as they came.

“Wow, that was so close,” I whisper to Logan, who stands there, watching me with a hint of a smile on his beautiful face. I can’t help but smile back at him. The last thing I want is for my girls to catch us in such a position.

“Hey girls, how are Granny and Papa doing? I will have to nip up there shortly to see them.” I shout after them.

I feel like a naughty teenager who has just been caught smoking.

I love Logan’s parents like they are my own.. I send a silent thanks to the higher powers in heaven that they didn’t walk in with the girls.

Kayleigh and Amy sweep through the house, exploring their surroundings. I am still trying to catch my breath when I notice Logan still watching me as I sit down at the breakfast bar.

Our eyes lock, those stunning cerulean eyes, my heart pounding a frantic beat as I melt in his gaze.

I finally give my head a shake and try to get it together. We all head out to the car and I grab my handbag I had left in there. We start walking to see Logan’s mum and dad. His mum seems about my height. In heels, she stands about five foot four, with a small frame. She wears her dark blonde hair in a short bob. She has stunning green eyes that crinkle at the corners as she smiles at our entrance.

Logan’s dad, George, is a tall, well-built man, and has the same kind, lovely blue eyes and brown hair as Logan, though there’s a bit of grey at his temples. He works as a carpenter; he’s a very talented craftsman. He is such a cheerful, jolly man, always happy and always making and building something.

Their house is magnificent; an old Scottish seventeenth century-style house. It must have at least six bedrooms, though no one would suspect it had so much room from the outside. Inside it was entirely different; the décor is perfectly done, light and airy, with lots of natural light, like Logan’s house. Not a thing is out of place. I immediately feel comfortable and welcome in their home, even though it has been a while since we last visited.

“Would you like anything to drink, sweetheart?” Logan’s mum, Susan, asks.

“Yes, please.”

“Coffee? Tea? Glass of wine?” she offered. She was on holiday from work, and in the mood to entertain.

“I would love a glass of wine, please.” I look to her smiling face. It’s as if we are on the same wavelength. I follow her in to the kitchen.

“Oh! I love this kitchen, Susan.”

“We had it fitted not long ago. George did the stone flooring.”

“Wow. It’s just lovely.”

The kitchen sides are black granite, sleek and look easy to clean. The cupboards are a lovely shade of red. The walls are painted in a clean light colour that reflects the light around the huge space, and she has the black tiles underneath the units. I absolutely love it.

We sit at the huge dining room table. I tell her all about our adventures in Edinburgh, and how much we have enjoyed ourselves. I explain about how the girls are so happy to be back here, too.

She is so warm and she cares so much for us. She is always ready to listen, and is always there for the girls and me whenever we need her, even if it is just on the other end of the phone.

“We will get you and the girls back up here one of these days, sweetheart. Even if it takes years, it will happen. You mark my words.”

She knows just how much I love her son, how much I want to be with him, and for us to be a family again.

“It’s my mission in life to do just that. One day, Susan, one day.”

“Drink up, my dear. We have a nice bottle of white to get through, and we might stretch into another one,” she encourages with a puckish wink. I can’t help but smile at her; she is definitely in holiday mode and ready to let loose a bit.

Kayleigh and Amy play outside in the massive garden. It is a child’s dream with the beautiful plants and flowers that create little paths, and hideaways with little spots along the way to discover neat little features and surprises, like the fairy house or their eclectic gathering of garden gnomes. And, perhaps the girls’ most favourite part is the play area that George had made just for when the grandkids came to visit. It has everything a kid could wish for; swings, a slide and a climbing frame, and a wooden house at the top. He has designed it with such care and imagination that the girls would stay there and play in it for hours. They even slept in it a few times when the weather was decent. It warms my heart to see the girls enjoy themselves, and how it tickled George to see how much they enjoyed his creation.

I am on my second glass of wine, listening to Logan and his mum and dad chatting about life and having a good old gossip about people. It warmed my soul to hear them all together. I miss nights like these. I just miss them all terribly.. It is tearing me apart inside not being able to give my girls the life that they truly deserve, for them to be with the people that they love who love them in return.

It makes me so angry sometimes, that one man could cause so much pain and misery for so many other people, that he is able to keep us apart at all. Why can’t he just let it go? Let me go?

“Hey, babe. Don’t stress. I can see those wheels turning inside your head. It won’t be for much longer.”

Logan sits beside me, wraps his arms around me tightly and kisses my forehead.

“I love you, beautiful.”

Looking into that stunning blue, I tell him that I love him too.

“Who’s for another drink? Come on let’s get the barbeque going and get this party started!” he says as he waves his arms in the direction of the grill. We could always count on George to turn everyone into a lighter mood. Logan, still with his powerful sun-kissed arms wrapped around me, kisses my lips, reawakening the pulsing need between my legs. I groan softly into his kiss, trying to express how he’s making me feel.

“Hold that thought,” he whispers to me.

“Is that a promise mister?”

In my head it damn sure was.

We join Susan and George in the garden. It is another roasting hot day, and the smell of the barbeque is floating through the air, making my stomach sing to me; chicken, sausages, burgers, and everything else you can think of.

“I can’t wait to get stuck in to that, it smells amazing. My stomach is screaming at me.”

“You must all be starving, dig right in,” Susan says while offering me a plate.

“There’s salad, bread and dips there. I will pour you a drink, hen. Help yourself, we have plenty to go around.”

Kayleigh and Amy join us. They are having so much fun, and are still soaking wet from the water fights around the fountain in the garden. George has gotten out the massive paddling pool for them too. My girls look so happy. It’s so good
to see them enjoying themselves and so content here.

Logan sprays sun cream over my back and shoulders. The cold sensation is a very a brief reprieve from the heat of the day. His hands smoothing lotion over my warm skin is creating quite a sensation too.

I love his hands on me. I would have been quite happy to let him carry on all day.

"That will stop you from burning, baby."

I love his thoughtfulness.

“Hey give it here, I will do yours."

I grab the sun cream and cover Logan's back with it. His powerful muscles glistening, reflecting the sunlight. I help admire his sculptured, masculine, sexy body. He is all male, strength and raw sensuality. He simply takes my breath away.

Later that evening we take our time driving back to Logan’s house. It gives me the chance to enjoy the feel of his hand in mine, his warmth and his strength. He makes me feel so safe. He feels like home. We are surrounded by breathtaking scenery, but it all pales in comparison to seeing Logan, being close to him, feeling his energy and vitality. I am so head over heels in love with this beautiful man that it hurts like a stab to the chest.

He reaches across and squeezes my thigh.

“Hey, beautiful. Everything is going to work out just fine in the end, ok? I’ll make sure you don’t have to worry. I promise you I will make sure of it even if it takes me the rest of my life. While I am still breathing nothing will ever hurt you, do you hear what I’m saying?”

He says the last part slowly so I don’t miss a single word.

“I’m ok. I’m just admiring the view, and I hear what you’re saying.”

Kayleigh and Amy are wiped out, and go straight to bed when we get in. I tuck them both in and kiss them goodnight.

“I love you to the moon and the stars and all the way around and back again. Sleep well, sweet dreams.”

“Night, Mum. Love you too.”

I close my eyes to the shower of cool water flowing down my face, neck and my hair, washing away the stickiness of the hot afternoon. I lather on the shower gel to wash away the sunscreen Logan had put on to protect my skin from the fierce rays of the sun. I welcome every refreshing drop as it soothes away my stresses, for the moment at least.

My need for Logan is ever present as my nipples stand to attention, while I rub the shower gel along my heavy and tender breasts.

Under the spray of the shower, my eyes close as I tilt my head up towards the cool stream, willing the water to carry away my old scars and the demons that continue to haunt me. Please take them away and banish them from even entering my head or my world ever again.

Scrubbing and rubbing at my skin, lost in my thoughts and the drowning of old ghosts, I don’t hear Logan come into the bathroom until I feel his hands on my swollen, tender breasts.

Kneading and stroking them, his powerful, chiselled torso still fit from all his workouts, presses up against my back, so warm and strong against my skin. He places soft lips to the racing pulse at my neck, trailing kisses against my skin.