“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Hoarse voice, scent of charred flesh. I turn to look and blink. I have to lean on to the bike behind me. Otherwise my legs might just give up.
“I asked you a question. Where the fuck are you going?” Logan. Naked as a day he was born. Covered in blood and ashes from head to toe, swaying slightly, supporting his weight against the doorframe.
“I… I was going to… I was coming to get you…”
“Well… Here I am. Come and get me…” He doesn’t need to repeat it.
God… I thought I wouldn’t see her again. I can’t get her close enough. I pull her to my arms and plaster myself against her curvy body. Even through her clothes I can feel her heart pulsing. I slide on my knees and pull her against my chest, heart against heart, and it feel so good I can hardly breathe. She’s soft and warm. She’s mine. And right now I really would like to cuddle with her in some dark corner, just hide from the rest of the world. I lay my head on her shoulder and nuzzle her throat. I can hear strange sound, and it takes a while to register, that I’m crying.
“Come on… Lets get you in to bed.” She tries to stand up, but I can’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.
We manage to get in to our room without bumping to anybody on our way. I lock the door behind us. He starts stripping me. He practically tears all my clothes to pieces and flings me in to bed. Then he crawls on top of me, head between my breasts and falls to a sleep. I pull blanket over us and follow his example.
I wake up. Logan’s carrying me. He kicks open the bathroom door.
“Huh?” I croak. He places me gently to the toilet seat and turns the shower on, fiddling for a moment until it’s on right temperature.
“I’m a mess. You’re not much better…” He murmurs and I glance down. Blood and grit has brushed off from him and dried to my skin.
“Come on…” He beckons me, takes my hands and we step under the shower. His muscles are still trembling under the strain, but he picks up a bar of soap and hands it to me.
“Do me.” I start to lather the soap to his skin. He leans his back against the wall, closes his eyes and lets out a contended sigh.
He’s covered in black and pink, soapy froth from head to toe, and he has nearly fallen back to sleep under my hands. I turn on the shower again and rinse him. He turns it off again and takes the soap.
“Your turn.” He doesn’t really have to. I could do this on my own. He should go back to bed and rest. I tell him that, and he shakes his head.
“Shut up. I want to do this.” Who am I to argue when gorgeous, sleepy and grumpy man wants to get his hands all over me?
He stands behind me and pulls me flush against his hard body, gliding the soap over my stomach and breasts. He’s teasing me. And it’s working. I’m starting to get wet, and it’s not all water. I can more feel than hear him inhaling. He chuckles low under his breath, discards the soap bar and starts to spread the lather with his hands, making me really squirm under his touch. I can feel his erection poking my buttocks and lower back. Every small contact makes him gasp. I grind our soapy lower bodies together and he moans, brings his hands to my breasts and squeezes them gently.
I really wasn’t planning this. This was supposed to be just shower. Just to clean off all the accumulated grit and grime before snuggling back to bed with her. Then suddenly I could smell her arousal. I have never been able to say no to her. Well, truth to be told, I have said no many times, and as many times she has managed to turn my head. I’m not complaining. Her slick skin against mine feels heavenly, soothing burning and itching feeling that still lingered from the fire. But we have to finish this in bed. Crap. Right now I would really like to take her hard against the wall, but I can already imagine what the end result of that would be. Less flattering. I can hardly stand, let alone keep her weight up.
He turns the shower on, and takes the showerhead from its holder, caressing me with water. Logan’s version of the Chinese water torture. Quick bursts to my both breasts, then long and slow path from up there between my thighs. He leans backwards and parts my legs with his thigh from behind. I can see water cascading over my folds. I have to turn my gaze away and grab his arm before I turn to liquid. This feels too good.
“Logan…” I swear, that man is a latent telepath. He turns off the shower, wraps a large, fluffy towel around me and pushes me back to bedroom in front of him. Together we strip soiled linens from the bed, but that’s enough time wasted. He pushes me on the bed, on my back, and yanks the towel away. He nudges my legs a part, crawls between them, on top of me. One slow thrust and he’s in me. More slow thrusts. His hard cock rubbing my passage, sending delicious jolts of pleasure all over my body. His mouth claims mine and swallows my gasps and moans. I wrap my arms and legs around him and he rolls us over, turning me on top of him. He pushes me upwards, and there’s a wicked smile on his face when he grabs my breasts with his hands.
“You wanted a ride…”
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