Without Fear - Reese Knightley Page 0,24
wearing makeup and shear shirts when I visit.”
“You’re perfect.”
“Keep saying those things and I’ll have to keep you,” he said lightly and pulled out of Logan’s arms. It was getting too comfortable and too safe in this man’s embrace.
“Okay,” Logan deadpanned.
With a slight smile, he shook his head and closed the empty pizza box. “Did that answer all your questions?”
“Why the FBI?”
He drew in a deep breath, let it out, and settled on the cushion next to Logan again. “I want to be a part of something good, something that matters.”
Logan smiled and Macy closed his eyes when the man cupped his jaw.
“Come on, it’s getting late,” he said and stood, holding out his hand. When Logan took it, he pulled the man to his feet.
“You’re feeling warm.” He frowned and placed a hand to the side of Logan’s face.
“I am?” Logan put a hand to his own forehead. “I do have a headache.”
“I bet it’s your arm,” he muttered. “If that gets infected…”
“It won’t,” Logan said huskily.
Sitting Logan on the edge of his bed, he went into the bathroom. Returning with new bandages and some ointment, he changed the dressing. The wound didn’t look any worse from this morning when he’d changed the dressing for Logan, but to his untrained eye, it didn’t look any better, either. He handed Logan two ibuprofen.
“Find something for lube,” Logan said huskily after taking the pills.
“You’re in no condition.”
Logan’s lips pressed flat. “Are you kidding me? It’s only a scratch. I’ve had far worse.”
He eyed the sexy hunk and his dick perked up. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find.”
He stalked out of the room and through the house, searching each room for condoms and lube.
Of course, there were zero condoms in the whole freaking house, but he found a jar of coconut oil in the kitchen.
Logan’s face was comical when he returned to stand in the bedroom doorway with the jar in hand.
“What’s that?”
“Coconut oil.” Macy smiled slowly and flipped open his robe to place his free hand on his waist, slipping one finger into the lacy edge of his pink boy shorts.
“Ever tried it?” He sashayed toward the bed.
“No, but I’m down.” Logan crooked a finger.
“Progress,” he said cheekily.
Logan’s deep, husky laughter filled the room.
Over the next several hours, he found out how much fun Logan could be. And even though they hadn’t had sex, Logan was very skilled with his hands and mouth. Perhaps, it was possible to keep this light.
The sheets squished beneath him and at some point, they’d lost the jar of oil. The bed was a mess. Logan sat up from beside him and pulled him from the bed before stripping the bottom sheet.
“You don’t like sticky sheets?” Wrapped in the top sheet, Macy sank to the cushioned chair nearby and chewed on his lip to keep from laughing.
“I don’t mind sticky sheets, but the amount of oil on this bed is going to ruin the mattress.”
“Can’t you just buy the owner a new one?”
“Yes, mister smartass, I can. But not tonight. Tonight, I have plans that don’t include an oily bed.”
“Do tell?” He laughed. “You do know there are seven other bedrooms, right?”
Logan scowled at him and flipped the bedspread over the mattress and snatched up several folded blankets from the closet.
“I’m partial to this bed,” the man huffed and slipped beneath the blankets.
Macy grinned at Logan’s disgruntled look and stood. “Why’s that?”
“Right now, I can’t remember. Maybe if you came over here and refreshed my memory, it’d help.”
Macy silently vowed then and there to buy and stash condoms in every room in the house just in case they came back this way.
Approaching the bed with a smile, he sank down at Logan’s side and brushed the hair away from his forehead. “You feel cooler.”
“I told you, it’s only a scratch,” Logan breathed and tugged at him.
Logan
They left just before dawn the next morning.
He felt sad to leave the seclusion Sam’s estate had given him, mainly because he’d miss having Macy all to himself. They hadn’t come out of the bedroom the previous night except to eat.
After food, he’d wrapped Macy up in his arms for the rest of the night. He’d awoken with a crick in his neck and a headache, but it had been worth it.
“We can go back anytime,” Macy murmured as they flew down the freeway toward Crumpet.
“What?”
“The estate. We can use it anytime, Sam won’t mind.”
“Did you just read my mind?”
“You looked sad.”
“Who is Sam to you?”
“I told you, he’s an