“Let. Go. Of. Me.” The woman fought his hold. “Logan.”
She knew his name? Her voice resonated in his head, crisp yet feminine. So f**king familiar. Impossible. It couldn’t be . . .
He released her hair and grabbed her shoulders, still subduing her struggles. Heart pounding, he spun her to face him. That familiar face, angry dark eyes, and the mulish set of her pert little chin had him mentally flailing with shock. Holy f**k.
Logan gasped, stared. “Cherry?”
Chapter Two
“YOUR Cherry?” Xander slanted a questioning glance in his direction.
Logan couldn’t take his eyes off her or unscramble his brain enough to answer. He hadn’t been this close to her in twelve years, one month, fifteen days, six hours, and a handful of minutes. Now she was in a dungeon to train as a submissive. With him.
She jerked from his hold and swatted his hand away, glaring at him with the full force of those furious brown eyes. Logan’s belly pulsed with dark thrill and sexual heat. His first urge was to back her against a wall and bury himself deep inside her.
“My name isn’t Cherry,” she hissed. “It’s Tara, not that I expect you remember.”
Oh, he remembered. Hell, he couldn’t forget. How was it possible that taking her virginity at sixteen had virtually ruined him for every other woman? He wished he could deny it, but if he tried, he’d be lying.
Looking at her now, she was twice the woman she’d been as a young girl. He’d seen more beautiful females, but none who flipped his switch more.
“Tara Jacobs,” he murmured, still staring as if she were a mirage that might disappear at any moment. “I wouldn’t have passed sophomore lit if you hadn’t tutored me.” He stared, not really conscious of the words pouring out of his mouth, just the shock fueling them. “Still a tiny thing. Still independent, I gather. Still have that little birthmark on the inside of your left thigh?”
Her jaw dropped, sweet mouth gaping open. God, he’d love to put his c**k there. He hadn’t had the chance to do that . . . yet.
“That’s none of your damn business.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
As if that defensive gesture would keep him away. Pfft.
“Oh my God,” Xander exclaimed. “She is your Cherry. It’s all over your face.”
“Shut the f**k up, Xander,” Logan growled. “Get out.”
Axel cleared his throat. “It appears that you and Agent Jacobs are acquainted. That’s my cue to back off and let you sort this little reunion out. Agent York?” The tattooed Dom turned to the male agent. “Let’s go to Thorpe’s office and talk.”
York speared Tara with a concerned glance that rubbed Logan the wrong way. Just as he was about to offer to rearrange the agent’s face, Tara sent the man a decisive nod.
“Xander, you, too,” Axel said. “Something tells me Logan won’t need your help with this one.”
His one-man cleanup crew shrugged and followed Axel to the door. “We’ll see.”
Beating back his annoyance, Logan watched the trio file out. The door closed behind them with a soft click.
Now could he push Cherry up against the wall and bury himself inside her? One look at her face told him that she was less than amenable to that idea. But now that he was training her, he’d have time alone with her. Get to simply touch her. God, he couldn’t have planned this better if he’d tried.
Tara stormed across the room, her fiery hair loosening from its clip after his manhandling. She removed it. The fiery tresses fell halfway down her back as she grabbed a robe out of the armoire against the far wall and thrust it on. “What are you doing here?”
He hadn’t given her permission to put that little silken robe on, but they’d get to that. He had questions, and was sure that she did, as well.
Logan shrugged. “I spend a lot of time here, actually. At least when I’m on leave.”
She frowned. “I’d heard you joined the service. Army?”
“Navy,” he corrected. “SEAL.”
That had her raising her delicate ginger brows. “From jock to frogman. That’s a stretch. Still a team player, I guess.”
Oddly, her razor-sharp sarcasm, even in high school, was one of the things he’d missed most about her after their split. The other thing had been her compassion.