Chasing Ava: A Bachelor of Shell Cove Novel (The Bachelors of Shell Cove) (19 page)

Ring, Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring, Ring.
 

Oh goodness, he had her head ringing in ecstasy. Her little nub throbbed begging for a release she had no knowledge of.
 

Ring, Ring, Ring.
 

Her cellular ringtone brought her back to the earth’s atmosphere.
 

“Logan, my phone is ringing.” He responded by applying more pressure to her already sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a zing of current through her veins.

She pressed at his shoulders. “Please,” her breath wispy and quick.
 

He released her breast and stepped back a fraction. “As you wish,” he said, a barely audible whisper. His fingers made the slow ascent out of her panties.

He lifted her off the island countertop. “Answer your phone, we have all night to finish this.” A few more minutes and she would have been a crewmember of the Starship Enterprise. What he was doing to her was out of this world.
 

Discarding the bra and putting her pants right, she felt the spank to her backside the instant she turned away. Tossing a scowl of mock indignation in his direction, “Caveman,” she teased. Bounding off in search of the phone.
 

“Night nurse,” he tossed back.
 

Ava dashed across the hardwood floors in the family room to grab her phone from the charger with a smile on her face.
 

“Hello?” The distraction would give her the opportunity to wrestle her X-rated urges into submission. Her grandmother’s voice rang clear and true through the connection.
 

“Yes, I will stop by after work on Sunday.” Ava listened then she stiffened.

She repeated Granny Lou’s question, as though she heard it the first time. “Why do I sound out of breath? I sound out of breath because I was running from the kitchen to answer the phone before it stopped ringing.”

Logan appeared in the doorway, his eyes were watchful again.
 

“You called my house.” Something akin to panic gripped Ava’s lungs. She couldn’t lie to her grandmother.

“I’m at Logan’s. I cooked the Puerto Rican chicken, black beans and rice with corn salsa.” At the mention of Logan’s name her grandmother hadn’t asked any additional questions. Ava sagged in relief.

“Yes, ma’am. Have a good night.” Hanging up, she let the phone drop to the couch. If Granny Lou hadn’t called she would have done the “wild thing” with Logan.
 

“I should go home.”

Logan walked up to her, taking her moist hands in his.
 

“You are not leaving me.” He kissed the top of her head. His scent mixed with the confusion stirring in her brain. She wanted him, but she didn’t want to want him.

“Ava.” She looked at him. “Stay the night. Nothing will happen until you are ready.” She looked down at the floor, not wanting him to see the uncertainty reflected in her eyes.

A heavy sigh filled the too quiet space. “You don’t trust me.”
 

She winced at the dead tone. She didn’t trust herself. Not with a bedroom serving as her last line of defense before complete surrender. And it would be surrender. Especially, if he offered an encore to what just happed in the kitchen.

“I do trust you or I wouldn’t have let you touch me or do that stuff.” She pointed at the kitchen island as heat rose to her cheeks. “Never mind.” She replayed their culinary foreplay moments before and took in his unreadable expression. She should go home. For a woman with the sexual control of a bunny rabbit on fertility drugs, distance was the logical choice.
 

“I’ll stay.”
 

She squeezed his hands until he made eye contact.

Logan’s smile wavered before it spread with satisfaction across his handsome features. His roguish smile never failed to warm her insides and make her feel sweet and sticky for him.
 

“Which bedroom is mine?”

His smile fell away.
 

“Ava, I hold the balance of life and death in my hands with a steady grip on a surgical blade day in and day out. I am capable of managing life altering decisions regarding complex medical conditions. But I cannot have you under my roof sleeping in another bedroom. You will sleep with me.”

“I can’t sleep in your bed. Weird stuff happens when I get near you, when I smell you. Even the sound of your voice gets me panting and all kinds of other stuff. I might not be able to stop myself.” She looked away embarrassed by her lack of control.
 

“Sweetheart, the same thing happens when you touch me. As long as I am the only man that makes you feel ‘weird’ stuff, we are great together. There are four other bedrooms in this house. You decide which bed we will christen tonight. I will gladly climb in any bed with you. Even in a miniature doll house if you were by my side.”
 

“You wouldn’t fit in anything miniature.”

“I’d figure out a way, if it made you happy.”
 

They both laughed, but it didn’t ease the tension.

“Logan, I’m scared.”
 

She hated her weakness, her failure, and most of all her fear.
 

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. You are safe with me.” He reached for her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She started to heat up and warmth overflowed in her heart. He understood, courage bolstered, she gave voice to her next fear.
 

“I don’t know what to do.” Her cheeks burned with the admission. Her battered self-esteem couldn’t take it if she disappointed Logan. She hadn’t been able to satisfy Marcus. She had tried, but the pain was unbearable. She hadn’t “practiced” in a long time.
 

How could she please him with rusty lady parts?

“Ava, sweetheart, you are thinking too hard. We will share a bed, nothing more until you are ready.”
 

“But you said we would finish what we started.”

“And we will, when the time is right for both of us. For tonight, let’s agree to a bedroom.” Her expression was nothing short of elation. Logan looked at her with a puzzled expression.
 

“You look a little too relieved. Care to share?”

“I was thinking my… that is, my ‘lady parts’ are a little rusty.” She fidgeted and cleared her throat. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I assure you, your lady parts are fine. When you give yourself to me, it will be my pleasure to teach you everything you want to know. I’ll even let you demonstrate what you have learned.”
 

The butterflies in her stomach lost some of their fluttering at his reassurance. He wasn’t forcing her. It was her decision. Her choice.
 

“Too good to be real. You always know what to do.”
 

She closed her eyes, pushing against the fear threatening to engulf her.
 

It’s sleeping,
she reminded herself.
You sleep all the time
. The difference was her Kryptonite would be next to her. All six feet two inches, iron muscled, warm skinned male. She could do this. She wanted to do this for him. No, she wanted this for herself. To be close to him, intimately close.
 

“Everything to do with you and me is real. You’re mine. I’ll always take care of you. Come, tonight you will sleep in my arms.”
 

She stared up at him, gripped by apprehension. She felt his hold on her hands loosen, she clutched at his fingers. “I’m ready.”

Logan had grown accustomed to her scent, the way her chest rose and fell in sleep, how she draped her hair over the left shoulder so it brushed against his chest as he curled protectively around hers. He still hadn’t seen her fully unclothed, but he knew her body. It was getting harder, literally, for him to control his cravings for her.

Twice a week, three times if their schedules permitted, Ava would grace him with one of her home cooked meals waiting for him after work. At night’s end, she’d climb into one of the four guest beds and wrap that lithe, hot body around his and go to sleep. How she managed to sleep was beyond him. He spent half the night adjusting his erection. They had yet, to share the master bedroom. He could be patient with her holding back her body, but she guarded something more precious. Trust. Her trust had not been given to him. Not fully. What more could he offer her in reassurance? He knew he had a piece of her heart, but the essence of who she was remained under maximum security.
 

A familiar voice interrupted his imaginings.
 

“Logan, my friend why aren’t you laced up?”
 

Logan placed the protein shake in his hand on the counter to glare at his best friend.
 

“I did tell you to stop walking into my house unexpectedly.” He gestured for Graham to take a seat.
 

“And I told you to start locking your doors.” Logan raised his brows. Graham had returned from a three-week visiting professor position in Washington, D.C. earlier in the week. His friend’s usual good nature and pristine appearance was in short supply this morning. Already, dressed in his running gear, he looked haggard.
 

“I forgot about our run this morning. What’s going on with you?” Logan studied his friend. Something was definitely up with him.
 

With a fixed stare, Graham released a noisy breath before he spoke.

“Why are you asking, Logan?”
 

“You look like crap. I don’t usually have a pissed off grizzly in my house at eight o’clock in the morning.”

Graham laughed at that. “Whatever. Are we running or not? You are not the man to advise me about a woman. I’d be better off talking to a Catholic priest.”
 

Woman troubles. Logan could relate.
 

“A woman and secrets. Nothing good can come from the two of them together. What’s her name?”

“This coming from the man shrouded in control with the emotional capacity of a clam shell. Take your own advice, Logan.” Graham had not disclosed the woman’s name. Fascinating.
 

Ava picked that moment to call for him. Graham furrowed his brows.
 

“An overnight guest? What planet are you from and where have you taken Logan?” Graham was laughing at his own joke. Logan was not amused. Graham was studying him now. His amusement faded.

“Wasn’t it you that mentioned secrecy? That’s not Rebecca back there. What’s mystery lady’s name?”
 

Graham asked pointing toward the downstairs bedrooms.
 

“Mine.” Maybe he should have chosen a less Neanderthal word, but truth was truth.
 

Graham laughed at him.
 

“Logan, you should change your name to universal remote, because you want to control everything.”

“You are not my therapist, Hamilton the Third.”
 

Graham frowned at the use of his last name. The man hated being referred to as the third of anything. Logan resorted to name calling when Graham irritated him. Like he was doing now.
 

“Her voice is sexy. Anyone I know,” Graham leaned on the counter.
 

“No. She doesn’t mingle in our circle. And do not flirt with her.”
 

“Me?” Graham was irritating him.
 

“What’s happening with the Holbrook’s and the position on the board?”

“Nothing has changed with the Masters-Holbrook partnership.” His friend looked at him with an against
medical advice
expression on his face.
 

 
“It will when Sam Holbrook sees you with a woman other than Rebecca. You’re jeopardizing your future.” Another leash to keep him on the Masters family path to success. He’d find a way to have both. Graham had the forethought to stop talking when Ava’s voice drew closer. She emerged from the side hall. Rich milk chocolate eyes, backlit with happiness, sun kissed chocolate locks flowing over her shoulders, and just for him. All thoughts of family loyalty, partnerships and board positions faded from existence.