Command Control Page 12

  “No. Watching you come blew my mind. I had to see it again.” He kissed the top of her head. “You can punish me later.”

  Knowing her orgasms turned him on to the point he literally broke through his restraints sent little aftershocks through her from head to toe. This man—what he did to her, what he made her feel—she’d never been here before.

  “I’ll have to find something stronger than ribbon,” she said softly.

  He nodded, but didn’t say a word. Lifting her head she looked up at him. Asleep. Just like that. Sadie smiled, feeling the gentle, even rise and fall of his chest. She never would have guessed that trying to fulfill a man’s bedroom fantasies would reveal her own. She liked him bound to her bed, waiting to pleasure her. But when he’d turned all big, bad Alpha male on her, calling forth her orgasms like a god, that’s when something inside her clicked. She’d always wanted it to run both ways, but she’d never thought it would be possible. Until now.

  “I like you,” she whispered, knowing he was too far gone to hear her. “So much more than I should.”

  14

  LOGAN WOKE TO a buzzing sound and the unfamiliar feeling of something warm moving against him. He opened his eyes. One arm held the moving body close against his. The other rested across his face. He blinked. Pink ribbon decorated his wrist as if he were a party favor.

  The memory of last night came rushing back. Sadie, naked, stringing him up to the bed so she could ride him. He waited for the guilt, imagining it would drag him back into the endless, lonely sea of mourning like a vengeful monster.

  And...nothing.

  It was as if he’d finally reached dry land. The sea, it would always be there, but it had drifted into the distance. He’d moved on and it felt good. Logan savored the feel of Sadie’s body against him.

  He knew his feelings ran deeper. He felt more connected to another person than he had in a long time, and it wasn’t just the sex. Her laughter, the way she listened to him, it all left him humming with excitement and life. Hell, it felt as if the entire bedroom was buzzing.

  Sadie lifted her head and looked up at him, smiling. “I think your pants are vibrating.”

  “My cell.” He kissed the top of her head. The room wasn’t shaking with excitement for him; that was reality interrupting.

  “I need to get that,” he said.

  Logan shifted out from underneath her, watching as she snuggled into the covers and closed her eyes. One glance out the window told him they’d slept late. The sun was high in the sky, which meant that was probably Aunt Lou calling to ask if he planned on starving the animals today.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen. Hunter, his teammate. Shit, this couldn’t be good.

  He held the phone to his ear. “Reed here.” Logan crossed to the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

  “Hey, Logan. It’s Hunter.”

  “Good to hear from you,” Logan said even though he had a feeling this wasn’t a friendly let’s-shoot-the-shit call. “How’s the shoulder? I heard you were close to a hundred percent.”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Fully recovered. How are you?”

  Logan paced the tight space between the toilet and shower. “Good. Better now. I’m itching to get back to work.” The image of Sadie curled up in bed on the other side of the bathroom door filled his mind. Wild, commanding Sadie looked like a redheaded angel when she slept even though he had a hunch there wasn’t an innocent bone in her body. He’d much rather be in bed than talking to Hunter. But if there was one person he couldn’t ignore, it was the man who’d taken a bullet because of him.

  “But the R & R, it’s been good,” Logan added. “Still hate the reasons I’m here, but all in all, not bad.”

  “Look, man, I’ve met someone.”

  Logan stopped. They were teammates, like family, but Logan suspected he was the last person Hunter would call to talk about his latest hook-up. He had the feeling most of his teammates equated widower with monk. And they’d been close to the truth. Since Jane died, he hadn’t touched a woman. Not until Sadie.

  “And she’s it,” Hunter continued. “But I need your help. I need you to drive down to New York for an interview.”

  “She’s it?” Logan sat down on the toilet seat. When he’d seen Hunter’s name on his phone, he’d guessed something had gone wrong with the mission. But he’d never expected to hear those words cross his teammate’s lips. Hunter had always been the hit-and-run type. No attachments, no commitments.

  “I love her,” Hunter said.

  Helluva time for the team’s playboy to change his ways.

  “I know it hurts to think about it, but you remember how much you loved Jane?”

  Logan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to think about his late wife. Or how much he’d loved her. He was finally moving on.

  “Hey, man, you there?”

  “Yeah. I remember.”

  “I love Maggie,” his teammate said. “The professor. The one writing the book. I love her and I can’t stand in the way of her work. Not anymore. So I need you to come tell your side of the story. I need you to make her understand you were all kinds of screwed up over the loss of your wife and you made a mistake.”

  “I’m under orders to lie low,” Logan said, knowing it was an excuse. And a shitty one. He owed Hunter. He had to talk to this woman. But revisiting his grief? He didn’t want to go there. Not now.

  “I know,” Hunter said. “I’ll handle things with the colonel. But I’m asking you as a friend. Please.”

  “Send me the address. I’ll head out soon as I can. The drive should take six hours tops.”

  “Thank you.” Logan heard the relief in Hunter’s voice. “We’re flying back this afternoon from Fort Campbell. We’ll meet you at the house.”

  Logan ended the call and stood up. One night of sex that had made his fantasies come alive and now this. He left the bathroom, mentally running through the list of things he needed to do, including asking Aunt Lou to feed the herd and swinging by the bookstore to clean up dinner.

  “Logan?” Sadie shifted to a seated position, the sheet wrapped around her naked body.

  He went over to the bed and sat on the edge while he pulled on his shoes. “I need to go do a favor for a friend. I’ll be gone all day.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

  “It will be.” Standing, he leaned over and kissed her, a gentle brush of the lips as if it was routine. But it wasn’t, not by a long shot. What he had with Sadie existed apart from his day-to-day. She was all light, laughter and, after last night, the best sex of his life.

  He pulled the bedroom door shut behind him. What would it feel like to make that wild, hopeful energy part of his world? To wake up feeling connected to another person again and again? Like a miracle. As if he’d hit the shore, left his grief floating in the water while he walked through paradise.

  Except his past was like a weight, holding him in the ocean, threatening to drag him under. The monster in the sea? It was real and it was gunning for him. Only it wasn’t driven by his grief for Jane. His mistakes, the ones he wanted to put behind him, were catching up with him.

  And after Hunter’s call, what had happened on his last mission wasn’t in the past. It was his present.

  Logan walked down the front porch steps and headed for his truck. With each step, he felt as if he was breaking that connection he’d found with Sadie. But even if he could close the door on his grief and that screwed-up mission, the paradise he’d started fantasizing about—Sadie in his life and his bed—would only be possible when he was stateside.

  He slammed the truck door. He could daydream all he wanted; this thing between them wouldn’t lead anywhere. Once he got back to work, they would go their separate ways. He wasn’
t dragging another woman into a life of constant deployments. He knew that was a one-way ticket to unhappiness and pain.

  * * *

  SADIE WATCHED LOGAN climb into his truck. He moved with purpose as if 100 percent focused on getting out of here. He wasn’t running from her. Logically, she knew the phone call had propelled him into motion. But doubt lingered.

  Was binding him to the bedposts with pink ribbons too much? Probably. Either way she refused to spend the day at the window, watching and waiting. She got dressed, laced up her sneakers and walked to Laurel’s house. Her sister was home from the hospital and Sadie was in Vermont to help.

  When she reached Laurel’s back door, Sadie let herself in and followed the crying into the living room. Her twin stood by the front window rocking back and forth, the baby in her arms, wailing.

  “Need a hand?” Sadie asked.

  “Thank God you’re here.” Laurel turned around. “I need sleep. Here.”

  Sadie took the swaddled newborn, cradling her like she might break into pieces if she wasn’t gentle. Lacey, her tiny little niece, screamed louder.

  “She doesn’t cry if you walk in circles,” Laurel said. “But I’m too tired to keep walking. She’s been fed. Wake me in an hour and I’ll nurse her again.”

  Hours later, Sadie felt like she was endurance-training, not babysitting. But the baby was finally quiet. Lacey had even closed her eyes for a while, but woken up the minute Sadie stopped walking. Sadie had learned her lesson. No stopping except when it was time for Laurel to nurse the baby.

  She walked around the couch, past her cell phone resting on the coffee table. No missed calls. Not a single text message all day. Outside, the sun was starting to sink behind the Green Mountains. It wouldn’t be dark for hours, but still, the entire day had passed and he hadn’t called.

  “He said all day, but I don’t know if that means he’ll be back for dinner.” Her niece’s big gray eyes stared up at Sadie. “Or after dinner. For bedtime. I guess I assumed we’d be spending the next few nights together. A fling is longer than one night. But maybe that was enough for him. Maybe that was all he could handle. Still, he went to a lot of trouble—dinner in a closed bookstore—for something that was pretty much a given.”

  Sadie looped past the table again. No texts. No missed calls.

  “Stop looking at your phone. You’re going to give my daughter a complex.” Laurel stood in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her hair was wet and she’d put on clean pajamas.

  “You look better,” Sadie said. “Refreshed.”

  “I wanted to stay in that shower forever, but I figured you needed a break. Go home. Write. Get some sleep. He’ll either call or he won’t.”

  “I think I might have blown it. Pushed him too far for his first time after losing his wife.”

  “You can’t blow a fling.” Laurel took the baby from her arms. “It might end a little early, but it is going to end eventually. Right?”

  Sadie nodded. “Yes.”

  They would go back to their separate lives. She’d return to her work in New York and he’d go back to Tennessee, then off to the Middle East or wherever they needed army rangers.

  “Bring him to dinner tomorrow night,” Laurel said. “I’ll judge how he feels. We can invite Lou so it won’t look like an interrogation. She’ll come to meet the baby.”

  Sadie shook her head. “Your baby is only a few days old. You can’t cook dinner.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” she said, walking in a circle around the couch. “I can either defrost something or we can get takeout from The Quilted Quail. Burgers and apple pie sound really good. Oh, and French fries. I’d love some French fries.”

  Bringing Logan over here, knowing their fling might have turned into a one-night stand, sounded like a bad idea. But Sadie couldn’t say no to her twin. “I’ll invite them and arrange for takeout.”

  Sadie left Laurel’s cottage and headed across the fields to her temporary home. In the pastures, the cows happily munched on their hay. She thought about walking up to the main house and looking for Logan’s truck, but she stopped herself. If he wanted more, he’d call or text.

  Inside her quiet guesthouse, she sat down at her computer to write. Time slipped by. She stopped to find an apple, a box of crackers and a jar of peanut butter, but otherwise, she typed. And then, finally, her cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “I know it is late,” Anne-Marie said without a greeting. “Almost dinnertime. But they’re walking away from the deal. The movie studio. I just spoke with your agent and she is doing everything she can to salvage this opportunity, but I’m afraid it might be too late.”

  No. Sadie refused to let the man she desired and her movie deal slip through her fingers in one day. She couldn’t control Logan’s feelings and actions, but she could do something to put MJ Lane back in the spotlight.

  “Give me the number for the paper,” she demanded. “The one that took the picture.”

  Anne-Marie rattled it off. “This might not be enough,” she added. “No one will be able to identify you.”

  “But it will make them wonder,” Sadie said.

  She ended the call and quickly dialed. Even if a publicity circus erupted, what was the worst thing that could happen? She doubted a reporter would be able to track her to rural Vermont. And even if she had to return to Manhattan early, she’d done her part in Vermont. She was here for her niece’s birth. And Logan? She’d helped him put his wife’s memory behind him and step forward, toward his future. That might be all he needed from her.

  Five minutes later it was done. She’d confirmed that the woman in the picture was MJ Lane. The man she’d spoken with assured her they would look into her claim. He hadn’t sounded too excited. It was almost as if she was telling him something he already knew or had guessed. Either way, she hoped they would run the story, and there was nothing more to do tonight—except write.

  Hours later, while Sadie was lost in her character’s world, headlights shone in through the window. Glancing outside, she saw Logan’s truck. It was late, nearly three in the morning according the clock in the kitchen. But he’d come back. To her.

  A little voice in the back of her head wondered if she’d called the reporter too soon. Seeking publicity when he was under orders to stay far away from the spotlight left her feeling uneasy.

  But this would never touch him. Even if they connected MJ Lane with Sadie Bannerman based on her tip—it would take time. They didn’t even have a shot of her face. By the time they did, whatever was between her and Logan would be over.

  Sadie stood and opened the door. Wearing the same clothes he’d left in that morning, Logan ran a hand through his hair. She’d spent most of the night finding the right words. Looking at him, only one came to mind. Drained.

  “I saw your lights on,” he said.

  “I’ve been working.” She stepped back, holding the door open. “Come in.”

  He hesitated.

  Sadie cocked her head to one side, studying him. She didn’t know the details, not yet, but she had a hunch the favor hadn’t involved moving his friend’s couch. His body radiated tension and his face was a mask of emotional turmoil. It was as if someone had asked him to hand over a piece of himself.

  “I’m not great company right now,” he said.

  “Not many people are at three in the morning. But you look like you could use a nightcap. I saw a bottle of bourbon in the cabinet while hunting for snacks. Not much left, but I’ll share it with you.”

  Logan nodded, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “I could use a drink.” He stepped inside, stopping in front of her. “After.”

  His gaze dropped to her lips. Shifting closer, pressing her up against the open door, he lowered his mouth to hers. This time, he was the one demanding the k
iss, not with words, but actions. There was a harsh edge to his movements as if he was done holding back, physically.

  But when it came to his emotions? The way he pinned her tight against the door, she suspected the only thing he wanted to feel right now was this. And she was right there with him, ready and willing to play, knowing the endgame was pleasure.

  Sadie placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back, away from the door. It slammed closed behind them as she wound her arms around his neck. Holding his body close to hers, she broke the kiss and looked up at him.

  “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

  “Not even close.”

  “You liked the pink ribbon?” She said, her words laced with the doubt she’d carried around all day. “It wasn’t too much for you?”

  “No.”

  The way he said that one word—emphatic, strong—erased her misgivings.

  “I liked driving you wild.” He ran his hands down her back, cupping her ass and drawing her close against him. “Tell me what you want tonight.”

  She wanted him relaxed, laughing and happy. And she wanted him out of his mind with desire. But she knew that wasn’t the answer he needed to hear right now. In many ways, they were back to the beginning, fighting all the things holding him back and keeping him from moving forward—emotionally, at least. Watching him freeze, unable to kiss her, that was the last thing she wanted right now.

  The memory of that almost-kiss against her fridge brought back another. The shower. Him at her mercy. Only tonight she had a very different idea about whose hands would be pressed up against the tile walls.

  “I want to get you wet,” she said.

  Logan groaned. “Feeling you tight around me sounds like heaven.”

  “We’ll get there, too.” She took his hand and led him down the hall, abruptly turning into her bedroom. She didn’t let go until they reached her bathroom. “But first, the shower.”

  Turning her back to him, she slid open the door and started the water. Still facing the shower, she slowly lifted her shirt up and over her head. She tossed it aside and undid her bra.