Page 47 of Consuming Logan

Logan felt his knees buckle. The next baby? How many kids did Ava want? The number of children had never come up in their discussions. Now she was talking in firsts? That implied a second and a third. He stopped moving, suddenly more afraid than he’d ever been of failing.

“Logan?” He looked down to find Ava’s eyes shimmering with laughter. “Come on. Courtni is escorting us to the furniture department.”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” In reality he was alone in a place too scary to contemplate. His mother had a horrid non-maternal streak. His father had plans to file for a divorce. And Logan, lacked a game plan for fatherhood. Ava hadn’t delivered their first child, and now he worried about the second.

As she walked, Ava talked about how she wanted to set up the room. A rocking chair that also reclined took priority. There was talk of convertible cribs and changing tables.

“Well, keep up,” she laughed. “I have to protect you from Chuckie and friends.”

That’s when Logan looked up to see a giant doll with the name BROOKE on her pink t-shirt. He froze, not wanting to take another step on this path. This secret needed to end. Ava deserved the truth about Brooke, how her death had robbed his child of life.

Three hours later, Logan added the last of their items to the checkout conveyor belt.

“That will be nine-thousand, eight-hundred and forty-three dollars including our Baby Bundle delivery service.” Courtni hiccup giggled.

Why did she have to smile so big? Damn braces blinged in her mouth like a fourteen-carat gold Rolex. Some baby convertible crib paid for that smile. Logan produced his credit card without a word. Ava slipped her arms around his waist. He stiffened.

“Hey,” she frowned. “You sure you’re alright? Does your hand hurt?”

He slid his left hand around her nape. “I’m good,” he lied. “Anxious to get you beneath me.”

She hugged him tighter. “Get ready for wild woman, she-beast sex.”

Logan hardened like cement in his pants. That sounded like the perfect treatment to tame the growing panic crushing his chest.

Chapter 17

Ava’s back hit the closed door. The delicious weight of Logan’s chiseled body scraped against her erect nipples sending a zing of pleasure down her spine. She inhaled his woodsy scent, letting his natural pheromones drive her arousal higher. He captured her mouth with his, the softness belying the strength of his control. With practiced ease, he parted her lips with his tongue slipping inside. The nip and bites increased until she surrendered, giving him full entry. What he did to her mouth, she wanted him to do a repeat performance on every part of her body until she begged him to stop.

Ava’s breath quickened, her body softened, and her knees threatened to give way under the assault of his demanding kiss. He snaked his fingers along the inside of her thigh and under her dress. Before she knew Logan’s intention, he tangled his fingers in her thong and yanked. The material fluttered to the floor along with her inhibitions. Was he using her body to erase whatever had unsettled him at the store? She too had noticed the name Brooke scribbled in white calligraphy across the onesie. She would do anything he wanted to vanish the haunted look in his eyes.

Ava wasn’t naive.

Logan had dated other women before her. So, why did this one woman maintain a hold on him from the grave? During the ride home, it had taken every ounce of her military bearing to not probe him for answers. He caressed her taut peaks and she released a sigh.

“Stop thinking, Ava,” he growled. “Be here…with me.”

At the need in his voice, her heart skipped a beat. With him was the only place she wanted to be…forever. In this moment she needed a reminder that this man belonged to her. And she, to him. If he escaped in her body to ease the mental anguish inflicted by everything that had happened to them, she’d willingly give.

“You feel so good, Logan,” she groaned between hungry kisses. They both groaned when he broke the kiss. He wasn’t done. Warmth spread through her veins as he licked a damp trail down the column of her neck. He rolled her nipples between his talented fingers adding a bite of pain. She gasped. Between her legs moisture bloomed in her core.

“You feel better,” he chuckled, cupping her bottom in his big hands. When had he removed his sling?

“You are so bad, Logan Masters.”

Logan smiled. “All for you.”

The final remnants of anxiety relinquished the lock on her mind, opening the door to pleasure. She let his talented mouth eat away at her negative thoughts. They were fine. Logan’s hand bothered him less. The wedding plans were underway. A healthy baby grew in the safety of her womb.

He pulled away, grabbing her hand in the process. She grumbled her displeasure. “I want mine now,” she protested.

Over his shoulder he gave her a roguish smile. “Trust me. You’ll need the added support.”

Striding behind him, Ava appreciated Logan’s long legs, his powerful and elegant gait. Watching his firm backside, she appreciated that he usually started his days with a four a.m. run. Logan was a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and solid mass. Crossing from the side entrance of the house, Logan bypassed the hallway leading to their temporary master suite, and then the staircase leading to the second floor. Ava pulled up short, sure that Logan wasn’t about to do what she thought. No way would he, on second thought, he would.

“Outside again?” Ava quizzed. Shivers raced down her spine at the possibility of them engaging in exhibitionist fantasies.

“Close,” he chuckled, turning around to wrap her in his warm embrace.