more.
“And I want to admire my handiwork, see if you need more stripes to remember me by.”
She couldn’t tell if he was joking, and that created uncertainty that made her stomach pitch.
“After you.”
Jennifer gathered her flogger and the pile of their clothing, including his boots, then finally, his leather belt. She held everything against her chest as she climbed the stairs. Every sense seemed to be on hyperalert. She knew he was watching, making a judgment. It was exhilarating.
“Your ass is a little red.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“But you only have a few lingering marks. I’ll remedy that.”
His words weren’t a question, and they were delivered matter-of-factly—almost as casual as observations about the weather.
Once they were upstairs, he put his duffel bag near the door and said, “Let me get you something to drink.”
She continued into the living room and placed their boots side-by-side on the floor before piling the rest of their things on the couch. His earlier words about existing in two different worlds filtered through her mind.
In the window’s reflection, she watched him.
Even though he moved with athletic grace, he took in the surroundings. Always a warrior. Always on guard.
She stared, mesmerized.
He collected a water bottle then placed it on the end table before moving in to wrap his arms around her. “Cold?”
For a moment, she held herself away from him, but his grip was firm, relentless, and she relaxed, wondering if she could deny him anything.
“That’s better.”
The evening felt surreal. She’d gone from expecting a festive evening with friends to the most intimate, mind-expanding, fantasy-filled situation possible.
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, keeping her close until the chill subsided.
“Come with me,” he said.
Logan led her to the couch then wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. He left her long enough to flip the switch to ignite the fireplace. When he returned, he sat next to her, then uncapped the bottle of water and offered it to her.
Until she’d taken a drink, she hadn’t realized how parched she’d been.
He pulled her closer. This time, she went willingly, snuggling into his chest, breathing in warmth, comfort and security from him.
“Does anything hurt?”
“My nipples are a little tender. Not bad, though.”
“And your back, thighs, buttocks?”
“Hardly a twinge,” she confessed, unwilling to admit how much that disappointed her. In the movie she’d seen, the leading man had promised the star that she wouldn’t be able to sit for a week after he was done with her. And Jennifer wasn’t feeling the least bit uncomfortable.
They stared at the flickering flames, and she said, “I’m curious about your scar.”
“Are you?”
She wondered if that was a way to dodge the question or an invitation to probe further. Since she was intrigued, she pressed on. “You’re a bit of a mystery. Even Noelle doesn’t know much.”
“You asked about me.”
Was that a note of triumph in his tone? “I like to know something about men I might sleep with.” In fact, she generally insisted on several dates before becoming intimate. Yet she found Logan trustworthy, perhaps because of his honesty. He hadn’t promised anything other than an evening of exploration, and she’d found that somewhat refreshing.
“Yet we just scened.”
She wiggled away, putting some distance between them before turning to face him. “I know Joe considers you a friend. Apparently there aren’t a lot of people he says that about. I’m guessing the same is true for you.”
“Friends? A handful,” he conceded.
“But those few?”
“I’d risk my life for them.”
She believed it. “And the scar?” she persisted.
“Pushy for a sub, aren’t you?”
“You flogged me, fucked me, said something about giving me some more stripes. I think that gives me a right.”
“Does it?”
“Doesn’t it?” she challenged, pulling her legs up onto the couch.
He was quiet for so long she thought he might not answer. When he did, his voice was low, rough, containing a jagged edge of pain. “It was an explosion.”
“When you were in the Middle East?”
“You heard that from Joe or Noelle.”
“Sort of. Noelle said you’d been in the Middle East, but she doesn’t know how you got the scar. So I’m guessing the explosion happened while you were over there.”
“It did. There were four of us, going back to our compound. IED.” He traced the scar back and forth with his forefinger.
The motion seemed so unconscious she wondered if he was aware of it.
“Joe, Matt made it back alive. Matt wished he hadn’t, couldn’t deal with it. We brought Gary’s body back, but we left Matt’s spirit, his heart…whatever the fuck you