Torn from You (33 page)

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Authors: Nashoda Rose

Tags: #na, #new adult, #dark contemporary

BOOK: Torn from You
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“I like how you shake in my arms. It’s like
your body can’t wait to be with mine.” His arm around my waist
tightened. “It’s known. All this time, it’s known you belong to
me.”

I closed my eyes, my head tilting back. Oh
God. What he did to me ...

“Eme.”

I don’t know why, and I swear I wasn’t alone
in this, but when a guy tucks your hair behind your ear, it’s ...
well it’s the most erotic, attractive and panty melting move, and
Logan did it all the time, so I melted—big time. Liquid heat was
running through me, and I let it in.

I met his eyes and explosive desire hit
me—hard. Logan’s head was tilted, eyes were burning with craving;
his lips were slightly parted. Melted wasn’t good enough; I was
boiling over.

He whispered my name again then claimed my
lips; I was his. Not that I’d ever been anyone else’s. No, I’ve
always been his.

His pressed into me, hard and warm,
unrelenting as his mouth took mine in a slow need, an exploration
of what we both craved. My arms wrapped around his neck, fingers
curling into his hair, gripping, holding, never letting go as I
pulled and tilted his head so I could get deeper.

His groan vibrated in my mouth, and my body
shivered.

His hands gripped my ass. “Legs, Eme.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist and
locked my ankles. I never wanted to let go. Of him. Of Logan.

He trailed kisses down my neck, and I tilted
my head back, eyes closed, sighing as his tongue flicked across my
heated skin. The wetness between my thighs soaked my panties, and
that intense twinge heightened.

“Logan,” I murmured.

He groaned against my throat, hand coming up
between us to circle my nipple then lightly pinch.

I gasped.

“Christ, I missed you.” He continued to
circle my nipple, then squeezed. “We’re not wasting any more time.”
His other hand kept me in place holding the back of my head as he
met my eyes.

I flexed my thighs, and I knew he felt it by
how his hand tightened on the strands of my hair. I pictured him
above me, my thighs around him as he slide inside me, the fullness,
him driving into me hard then slow. Then I imagined Logan looking
down at me before he comes, before I let go to join him.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sculpt.” Kite sauntered into
the kitchen and threw his beer into the empty case on the
floor.

I tried to unhook my legs, but Logan
wouldn’t let me as he grabbed my thigh. He leaned into me and
whispered, “Stay. Don’t move until I tell you.”

Kite opened the fridge and grabbed another
beer. “Better get out there. Ream’s back and looks like he’s
pounded back more than a few of something burning.”

“Shit,” Logan said. “Crisis?”

“Riling it up.” Kite opened his beer, and a
hiss sounded.

“Fuck.” Logan let my legs go, put his hands
on my hips and helped me off the counter. “I have to deal with
this, Mouse.”

“Okay, I’ll finish up here.”

Logan snagged my hand. “No. You’re not
staying here cleaning up. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

We went outside to the pool, Kite followed.
Crisis, Kat, and Ream were there and it was heated. Gray slate
cobblestones gleamed under the lights that surrounded the pool. The
water glistened, and the moonlight reflected off the smooth
surface.

“Back the fuck off, Ream,” Crisis shouted.
“What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, asshole. Get your hands
off her.” Ream’s eyes shot to Kat. “You gonna fuck him too? Going
to screw every fuckin’ guy that looks at you? Ever thought of
asking for money? You’d be rich by now.”

Kat’s face paled, and I suspected if Crisis
didn’t have his arm around her waist, she would’ve collapsed. Her
expression was so damaged—eyes wide with horror, mouth open with
shock. “Are you offering to compensate me for services
rendered?”

“Fuck,” Logan muttered. “Stay here.” He
started to walk toward them.

Ream was in Crisis’s face, slurring his
words. “Fuckin’ Crisis, Kat? Man whore? This isn’t going down. No
fuckin’ goddamn way.”

“Ream, you need to walk away man,” Kite said
approaching.

“Ream.” Logan’s voice was more of a warning
sound, and I recognized it well.

“You don’t own me, Ream. Remember. You think
I’m a piece of shit, so it doesn’t matter what you think of me.” I
was close enough to see Kat’s tears teetering in the rims of her
eyes.

Ream’s face dropped, and he ran his hand
twice over his shaved head. “Where’d you get that shit from? I
never said that. I never fuckin’ said that.”

“You look at me like I’m garbage. I might as
well play the part.”

Logan’s body was tight, ready. Like he
looked before a fight—controlled and calm but deadly. He
chin-lifted to Kite then they walked up behind Crisis and Kat.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t think that. But you
keep this up and I’m changing my mind. Fuckin’ hell, Kat, why are
you doing this? The men. Jesus.”

Kat slipped from Crisis and backed up. “You
wouldn’t even talk to me afterward.”

Ream ran his hand through his hair, and he
staggered a step as he lost his balance. “Kitkat ... I couldn’t ...
I couldn’t face—”

Kat erupted. “You couldn’t face it? Are you
serious?
I
fuckin’ face it! I knew it. I fuckin’ knew this
would happen. I never told anyone for this very goddamn reason.”
She walked toward him, her hands balled into fists. “I still face
it, Ream.
Me.
” Kat shoved him in the chest, and he staggered
back a step. “You have no right telling me who I can be with.
None.” She slammed both palms into him again.

“Oh shit,” Logan swore as Ream lost his
balance and went back several feet then slipped over the edge into
the pool.

Crisis roared with laughter.

It took several seconds before he came
sputtering to the surface. Crisis was still laughing while Kat
frowned, her gaze focused on Ream as he swam to the side and pulled
himself out.

His jeans and T-shirt clung to his body like
a second skin, and when I looked at Kat, she was staring at Ream
like ... she was in love with him.

Crisis was bowled over, clutching his
stomach laughing.

But it was the look in Ream’s eyes that had
me worried for Kat. Logan got that look, a twinkle in his eyes that
I knew meant mischief. Ream shook his head and droplets of water
dispersed like a dog shaking after his bath. He looked nonchalant,
casual, and that was dangerous.

“Kat—” I was too late. The moment I said her
name, Ream dove for her. His head was down as his arms wrapped
around her waist and heaved her over his shoulder. She squelched
and kicked and struggled.

“Ream! Let me—” He jumped. Kat’s scream was
cut off as they disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Logan looked at Kite. “We need to step on
this shit.”

Kite smacked Crisis in the arm. “You’re no
fuckin’ help, asshole.”

“Me? He needs to wake the fuck up. I’m
helping him.” Crisis’s held up his hands, feigning innocence
although his lips were twitching. What a shit disturber.

I bit my lip. Logan scoffed.

Ream and Kat came up from the beneath the
surface of the water and Ream had his arm hooked around her waist,
helping her to the side of the pool.

Logan met my eyes and I recognized the
spark, knew it, felt it, and I remembered. I remembered when I’d
first fallen in love with Logan.

He approached, a slow, casual stride. I
stepped back one foot after the other. His eyes slid down me then
back up again. Then, God that smile.

“Logan.” I held up my hand as I continued
backward.

His brows rose to match his grin.

“Logan, no.”

“Yes, Emily.”

I turned and ran, but he was on me in two
strides, looping his arm around my waist and carrying me kicking
and screaming to the edge of the pool.

“Logan! Logan, don’t you dare.” I pounded my
fists into his back. “No. Please.”

“Are you staying in my bed?”

“No, don’t. I mean yes.”

“I’m not understanding your answer. Maybe a
little cold water will help.”

“Noooo.”

He leapt high into the air. I screamed.

I felt the cold water descend over my body,
then my head as we went under. Logan’s hands were on me, holding me
against him as we hit the bottom and he crouched and pushed
off.

The moment I could suck in air, I struggled
to dislodge his hands so I could swim to the edge of the pool.
Logan was laughing so hard that he couldn’t hold onto me as I
kicked out and hit him in the stomach.

“Bastard,” I yelled. I was trying my hardest
to hold in my laughter and act all pissy, but when he caught me at
the side of the pool and dragged me into him, I felt his lips on
the back of my neck then the touch of his hands under my shirt, his
skin against mine. He was caressing my abdomen then up across my
ribs and ...

“Water clear it up for you any?” He nibbled
the lobe of my ear. “I’m not asking for sex. But you’re in my
bed.”

Resisting Logan was like stopping a freight
train with my hands. “Okay.”

I saw Ream reach for Kat as she climbed out
of the pool, snagging her hand. She paused, turned her head and all
I saw the unquestionable rawness of hostility.

Ream said quietly, “Why, Kat?”

Kat never said anything, merely pulling away
and walked back up to the house. Then Crisis and Kite cannonballed
into the water.

 

 

Despite the cold water from the pool, I was
burning up. There was no denying my attraction to him had
catapulted to another level. This wasn’t just love, this was an
overwhelming debilitating love that I couldn’t even begin to
decipher.

Soul gripping. Fuck, it was complete mind
enfolding; not a single thought could be procured without him
embraced within it.

Logan showed me to
his
bathroom
upstairs on the third floor. Kat and I had stayed on the main floor
since we’d moved onto the farm. It was odd seeing the second floor
occupied by the band and third floor by Logan. The rooms had
remained unused before the band came except for one on the second
floor on the south side. Kat had been using it as an art room; now
it was occupied by Crisis, when he stayed here.

The bathroom happened to have all my
toiletries laid out; apparently Logan moved them from the
downstairs bathroom. He took my hands, held them at my sides, and
then bent his head and kissed me.

“When did you ...?”

“Texted Kite when you were working with the
stallion.” He caressed my cheek then nodded to the right. “Wear the
shirt to bed, baby.”

“What?”

He picked up a white button-down men’s
shirt. I went to object and tell him I had my own pajamas when he
scowled. “Seeing you in my shirt is sweet. And I want sweet
tonight.”

Damn it. Stop. Why did he have to say shit
like that? I mean what girl didn’t want to hear a guy telling her
he wanted her in his shirt. That he wanted sweet and she’d be sweet
in his shirt.

My mouth opened then slammed shut as he went
over, turning on the taps. Water blasted out of the showerhead. He
adjusted the water temperature.

He stood up straight. “You need help taking
off those wet clothes?”

I rolled my eyes heavenward. “Out.”

Logan grinned holding up his hands. “Trying
to be helpful.”

I let my pursed lips slip, and I smiled. I
couldn’t help it, seeing Logan laugh and smile was contagious.
“Out. Now.”

Watching Logan casually stride from the
bathroom, I admired his ass in wet jeans, the corded muscles on his
back visible beneath his white T-shirt clinging to his body like a
second skin.

I leaned over and felt the temperature of
the water—perfect. Peeling off my clothes, I hung them on the towel
rack then stepped under the warm spray.

I washed as fast as I could to avoid the
image of Logan that was afflicting me as I ran my hands over my
body. I was imagining my touches were his hands on every inch of
me.

Everything he’d done, he’d done to save me.
To save us.

I was letting him in, and he was letting me
in. I was sleeping beside him tonight, and I felt all giddy inside
and a little nervous, but it was a good nervous.

I closed my eyes, hands against the wall,
the water pounding into my body like he had during my captivity two
years ago. His hands had been on my hips, fingers digging into my
flesh as he fucked me from behind that day in the shower. His lips
nibbled at the crook of my neck as he slowed, sliding in and out. I
moaned, then begged for him to go harder, faster as he pulled out,
hands wrapping around my hair and yanking my head back so he could
take my mouth with a cruel, deep kiss that had my body screaming
for more.

He’d been right. He was engraved in me, and
no amount of time or washing or running was going to get him out of
me. I had to accept that. I did accept that.

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