Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (65 page)

L
ogan saw
it in Hayley’s eyes. The spark. The one she’d had every time she was near him before he’d fucked up the best thing in his life. He couldn’t let her go. Not without telling her one last time how much he loved her. Not without pleading, scratch that, begging her to take him back. If she wanted him to give up his money, change his name, and live in a shack, he would do it in a heartbeat if it meant she’d give him a second chance.

He raced after Hayley, following her out of the hotel and across the sand. Was this it? Had he lost her for good?

* * *

H
ayley had found a secluded area
, away from the hotel, to think. She stared out at the ocean, trying to gather her thoughts. Logan had dropped all kinds of revelation bombs on her all at once, and she felt shell-shocked.

“Hayley!” Logan’s sudden shout had her jumping out of her skin. She watched him slow to walk as he gauged her reaction and finally stopped within arm’s reach. “The thought of losing you again, losing you forever, wrecks me. But I want you to be happy. And if that means you need a life without me in it, then okay.”

His words drove spikes through her doubts. He loved her. And she loved him.

They’d figure out the rest.

God, she was nervous. Logan being within arm’s reach boggled her mind. Her pride had acted as a shield, pushing him away for so long. She knew her forgiveness was the only thing that kept them apart. “I… I’ve missed you,” she finally admitted. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He enfolded her hand into his own and lifted it, palm up, for a kiss. Her pulse leaped at the sweet touch. “You are my heart, Hayley.”

“And you’re mine,” she said softly.

“You got to know the real me. You didn’t know about my family’s wealth. You didn’t care about what kind of society points you could get from being seen on my arm. You preferred me in jeans and T-shirts instead of Rolexes and tuxedos. I’d found a genuine, loving, beautiful woman who saw me as normal. Who wanted me because of…?”

“Your kindness. Your humor. Your inability to cook.”

He laughed. “Yes.”

Hayley licked her dry lips, desire fluttering in her belly. He brushed her cheek with a calloused thumb. “Let’s belong to each other again, Hayley. No pretense. No secrets. Just us. Raw and naked and together.”

She heaved a breath, excitement trapping the air in her lungs. She sucked in calming breaths, but her body still trembled. “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Logan…”

He slipped his hands under her dress, his fingers sliding up her thighs, lifting the dress until her thong underwear was revealed. His fingers looped under the band and drew them down. “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you.”

She’d lost the ability to speak. Her mind fogged with desire, its heat prickling her skin. God, she was so wet.

He waited, demanding nothing. His tender patience released her from lingering doubts. The deed fluttered away in the wind as she let it go, and with it, her inhibitions.

Hayley unbuttoned the top of her dress. Her breasts were small, like grapefruits, and didn’t need the annoying harness of a bra. Logan’s eyes darkened as he watched her reveal them, cup them, and offer them.

Leaning forward, he suckled the hardening nipple of the left tit, the pressure of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue, shooting fire down to her groin. She moaned, arching back to offer him more. He switched to her right breast, lavishing attention on the aching peak.

He sucked, kissed, licked for endless, wonderful moments…then he used his hands to knead the sweet flesh, pinching and tugging the nipples until Hayley panted and moaned and wiggled.

Her knees quaked, threatening to buckle. She pulled Logan’s head away from her chest, and stared at him, knowing her eyes had the glazed look of someone on the edge of orgasm. Her body shivered with terrible need.

“We can’t.” His face looked stricken, so she amended her words. “I mean, we can’t here. Not on the beach. Someone will see us.”

Logan chuckled. “Claire is busy. And other than her, it just the two of us.” He nuzzled her ear. “You. Me.” He kissed her neck. “And the sea. I’ve missed you, Hayley. I can’t wait another second to hold you.” He suckled her lower lip as he cupped her breast. “To taste you.” He dipped his head and licked her rigid nipple. “To be inside you.”

“Yes, yes.” The heady rise of passion throbbed between her thighs.

“Pull up your dress for me,” he commanded.

Without hesitation, Hayley lifted her skirt, holding its edges up to expose her panties.

Logan went to his knees and pulled her underwear down to his ankles. She stepped out of them, her desire quickening when she felt his breath on her thighs.

“Part your legs for me.”

She did as he asked, and groaned as his tongue dipped into the heat of her sex. “I don’t know if I can stand.”

“Good,” he said, his fingers digging into her buttocks. “I want you on your hands and knees.”

“Oh, God,” Hayley moaned. She went down on her hands and knees and offered her ass to him, her breathing reedy, her heart thumping fiercely, as she waited to feel him against her. Smells of the ocean’s brine, the sweet grasses in the dunes to her left assailed her. The scents of hope and desire as heady as those of ocean. The sand was soft and warm under her palms and knees, nature’s silky bedding.

She heard Logan’s shorts hit the beach, felt him kneel behind her. The thick length of his cock slid between her thighs and rubbed her sensitive clit. Little waves of bliss rolled through her. He entered her slowly, and she gripped him tight as he began to thrust. The sway of their bodies, the smack of flesh on flesh, oh yes. Joy shuddered through her, its heat melting her at the very core.

“Hayley, Hayley,” he repeated her name like a prayer as he thrust so sweetly and completely.

She breathed deeply, feeling the nearness of her orgasm. He increased the pace, his chest rubbing against her back, thinly protected by the dress. And when he said, “I love you, Hayley,” her entire world shattered into rapturous shards.

“Oh God. Yes. Yes!” She came hard. Her screams echoed down the beach.

Logan pulled her from the ground, her legs straddling his as she twisted to take his lips while his gaze held hers, dark with desire, glazed with passion. She stroked herself over him, taking him deep until his groans turned to cries as he loosed his hot seed inside her.

F
rom his hiding
place in Betty Lewis’s garage, Riley waited patiently for her to arrive home. Once he got this job done, he could attend to Miss Nelson. His contact at Bureau of Land Management had come through for him, finding a tiny obscure island off the coast that had been purchased by Logan Greyson. Stupid on his part. But in the rich guy’s defense, Riley would never have put a poorly paid social worker with a billionaire playboy. Overhearing Nelson’s phone call had been all he needed to find out where Hayley was holed up. He’d relayed the information to Santos along with the confirmation of Ellie’s death. He chuckled. It was all a part of his outstanding customer service.

He heard the motor of the garage door opener begin to whir. He stepped back into the shadows and watched Betty pull her car into the garage. The door closed. Now, the only light in the darkened space was the dome light in Betty’s car.

She’d opened the driver’s side door but hadn’t gotten out. Her quiet sobs drifted into the gas-tainted air.

Tears were good. It would make her suicide more believable. He crept around the trunk and pulled out a tiny gas canister. One blast of this substance in Betty’s face and she’d pass out. There were perks to being a spook, including access to chemicals most people didn’t know existed. This one was odorless, effective, and would disappear from the bloodstream within half an hour. The only thing a toxicology report would find was the carbon dioxide that killed her.

Just as he stepped forward, canister at the ready, the interior door that led to the house opened. “House is clear, Betty.”

Stunned by the appearance of FBI agent Ben Nelson, he froze.

Ben smoothly withdrew his 9mm and aimed at Riley’s center mass.

“Drop the canister.”

For a moment, Riley’s mind refused to work. Those mere seconds were enough for Betty to get back into the car and slam the door shut, locking it.

Shit.

He dropped the canister, and it rolled under the car. He lifted his hands and walked forward.

“Stop.”

Riley dared to move closer to the agent. Close enough and he could engage in hand-to-hand. He’d win in a minute or less.

“Another step, buddy, and you get a bullet.”

Riley stopped, his mind racing. What to do? What to do?

“Turn around. Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”

Fuck this.
Riley appeared to obey instructions, but then he rushed forward, going for the gun.

The weapon discharged.

He jerked backward but was undeterred.

Two more shots.

Riley sank to the floor.

He heard the agent’s frantic calls for backup and the choking sobs of Betty Lewis.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

H
ayley lay
in bed next Logan, trembling with anticipation. Like lovesick teenagers, they’d raced back to the room. She’d had sand in places sand shouldn’t ever reside, but in the shower, Logan had proven adept in cleaning her every nook and cranny.

Now he looked ready to devour her. Again. He leaned forward and cupped her breast, suckling the soft peak and laving it to hardness with his tongue. Hayley’s eyes drifted closed, and she sighed against the lovely assault. Then she felt Logan’s hand on her other breast, cupping and kneading, then…
oh yes
, then his mouth encircled her nipple.

Heat flooded her as Logan played with her breasts, his mouth warm and wet and hungry, his hands drifting down her rib cage, over her hip, down the inside of her thigh, then up again. She squirmed and moaned, arching up, offering her breasts as a sacrifice, as penance.

Lust made her wet, made her slick and needy. She lifted her hips, a silent begging, then felt a hand slid into her curls and dipped inside.

“Oh God. Oh yes.” She pumped against the teasing fingers, pressed against the palm cupping her so boldly, and all the while Logan loved on her breasts, stroking, touching. He pressed against her, and she felt the thick length of his cock against her thighs.

“Hayley,” Logan breathed in her ear, his lips against her temple, his thumb and finger squeezed her hard nipple. “Baby, I want you.”

“I think you’ve more than proven that. But I think it’s time I show you just how much I want you.” She crawled onto the solidly muscled form of her gorgeous man as he stretched out on the bed. He was ready for her, his cock hard and thick, his eyes glazed with passion. His pleasure was her pleasure. She lowered herself onto his cock and let her inner muscles stroke him.

As she stretched out over him, she whispered, “Take me.”

He did as she demanded, his smooth, long strokes filling her. Her clit trembled, her over-sensitized body reaching for release.

Her body tingled, rivulets of fire and need prickling through her. Logan bucked under her, his cock pumping now. She moved, too, no longer passive in her desire. She rolled her hips against him, both of them sweating and groaning. Her breasts scraped Logan’s chest, and her buttocks slapped against his thighs.

Heat coiled low in her belly, arrowing to her center, blooming like a fire flower. “Oh God,” she moaned. “This. This so much.”

Their movements were frantic now.

“Yes, baby,” Logan said. “I love the way you feel around me. So tight and wet. So hot.” His fingers gripped her thighs, urging her to move faster. “Fuck yes. You make me so hard, so goddamn hard. I’m going to…”

“Logan,” she cried out as pleasure rippled through her, a wave of blinding bliss that made her scream.

She had barely caught her breath when she felt Logan tense. He pushed deeply inside her, groaning his release as emptied himself inside her again. She collapsed on top of him, her tongue swiping the sweat beading his neck.

“Convinced,” she said when she caught her breath.

“Oh, yeah,” Logan said. “More than.”

Hayley rolled to her side after his softening length slid from her body. Her sweat slick breasts pressed against his ribs. “You know the timing for this couldn’t be worse. Ben texted me. The trial starts next week.”

“We’ll get through it, babe. Together.”

She loved hearing him call her babe, almost as much as she loved knowing he would stand by her during the trial, but… “Your family. How will they react to you dating a poor social worker and the prime witness in a high profile murder case? Hell, forget your family, how is the world going to react? The first time you show up at the courthouse, the reporters are going to make you the story, not the fact that Santos, an evil bastard, killed my friend in cold blood.” Hayley shivered as she pushed away the awful memory of that night. “I don’t want this whole mess to turn into a circus.” She shook her head.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re all I care about. I don’t want my presence to shift focus from the trial. Still, if you want me there, I’ll wear a disguise. Seriously. I’ll put on a wig and wear a dress if I have to. I’ll support you however you want, Hayley.”

“You have the legs for an A-line skirt,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips. She kissed him, her nipples going hard as he turned toward her, his chest rubbing against her breasts. “Thank you.” She kissed him again, afraid to voice her real fears. Santos had the backing of some very powerful people in the world of organized crime. If they went public at the trial, Logan would become a target for the killer. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Logan stroked her hair. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Hayley closed her eyes and prayed that was true.

* * *

H
ayley awoke
in the big bed with Logan’s arm draping her waist, his soft snore tickling her ear. They had drifted into a long afternoon nap, holding each other. She’d managed a peaceful, dreamless sleep and had not awakened with a pounding heart or sweaty fists clenching the sheets. Logan made her feel safe. She easily drifted back to sleep.

Later, she awoke to find that Logan wasn’t in bed. Her gaze traveled around the room until it reached the open balcony doors. She glimpsed him at the railing, staring at the ocean. The salty air blew through the curtains of open windows, and she inhaled it.

She slipped on the robe that had been tossed to the floor and padded outside.

“What happened?” she asked as she leaned on the rail next to him, her gaze tracing the waves as they rolled onto the beach.

“You passed out from sexual joy,” he said, a smile in his voice.

Her gaze flicked to his profile. “So did you.”

“Yes, I did.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in closer.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said. “I still can’t believe you bought an entire island for me.”

“They wouldn’t sell me France.”

“That’s too bad. We could’ve lived on bread and sex in the Eiffel Tower.”

He laughed and tightened his embrace. “I’m glad you love the island. Will you stay?”

Hayley relaxed and snuggled closer. “Yes. But only if you do, too.”

“Are you kidding? I’m going to Superglue our hips together.”

They returned to the vigil of the ocean. She leaned against the rail with him, watching twilight mesh with the churning sea. The sun dipped toward the endless water and left the sky ablaze in orange, purple, and deep blues.

“There’s a storm headed in our direction,” he said. Hayley followed his gaze and saw the black clouds on the horizon, rolling toward them. “We better batten down the hatches.”

Her stomach growled, and she remembered they hadn’t eaten most of the day. “Is having dinner part of battening down hatches?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

R
odrigo threw
the crystal bowl so hard it dented the kitchen wall and fell to the tile floor shattering on impact. “Goddamn it!” he roared.

Mr. Riley was dead at the hands of the FBI. The only person that spook bastard had managed to kill was the one who couldn’t actually testify.

With the trial date moved up, Rodrigo had no choice but to take care of the situation himself. He got his smartphone and stabbed in a number. “Captain Frank? It’s Rodrigo. I need a fast boat. No, I don’t need a crew. Get me something small that handles easily. I don’t care how much it costs.” He paused to listen. “I don’t care about the fucking storm. Just get the boat. I’ll be at the marina in half an hour.”