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Looked like tomorrow was the day.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HE’D MADE HER come.
He’d made her come.
It was the first orgasm she’d experienced since the kidnapping. And it was a gooood one. One of those toe-curling, mind-numbing, soul-shaking orgasms that left her feeling both exhausted and energized at the same time.
Actually, she’d only had one or two of its kind in the past. There was just one problem with that kind of orgasm, for her anyway. It made her all gooey inside.
Emotionally speaking.
The other times her world had been rocked in such a way were with the first man she’d slept with. Her college boyfriend whom she fancied herself marrying for a time. Of course, as with many young relationships, it ended and she moved on, but at the time she was head over heels. After that she’d only slept with one additional man who hadn’t exactly been a Casanova in the sack.
Now, in the light of day, she was a mess of jumbled emotions. Confusion and anxiety were the primary reactions keeping her unproductive. With a heavy sigh, she folded the corner of a top sheet and tucked it between the mattress and box spring of her guest bed. It’d been taking her about six times as long as it should to make up a bed for Scott, and she wasn’t even to the comforter yet.
How on earth did Logan worm his way past her very well constructed defenses? How and why did she allow him to? Really, he didn’t worm his way anywhere, he’d demolished her walls with a freaking wrecking ball. None of the other men she’d been with since the kidnapping had come close to knocking her out of her head and getting her to go off script. She cuffed them to her bed, lubed them up, and rode them until they came. And in that time, the power she experienced having a man at her mercy alleviated the fear and anxiety she had been struggling with for months. When it was over, she uncuffed and left.
That was that.
But she’d not only let Logan break the rules, she’d allowed it to continue until she shattered with pleasure. What she needed to do was forget the entire incident, finish making the bed, and get ready for her brother’s visit.
But that was much easier said than done. Mainly because of how damn good Logan made her feel. So good, she wanted a repeat. Wanted to come again. So much so, she’d whipped out her trusty vibrator only to chuck it across the room in frustration twenty minutes later when she wasn’t even close to climax.
So, there she was, confused, anxious, slightly horny, and feeling some unnamed affection for the random man who’d rocked her world. That last part, the affection, she refused to give credence to. Way too complicated.
With a huff, Chloe grabbed the sky-blue comforter from the floor and dragged it up the bed, smoothing and tugging it straight.
Then there was the guilt. Probably the most powerful of the morning-after emotions. For fuck’s sake, she’d left the poor guy naked and defenseless guy handcuffed to the freakin’ bed.
She’d officially become a monster.
The guilt was so strong, earlier that morning she’d staked out the parking lot of the motel, hoping to see the maid venture into the rom. She had to make sure Logan had been freed but was far too chicken shit to check on the room herself. When the maid knocked on the door, entered and exited a moment later with the dirty linens, her heartrate had skyrocketed. But nothing happened. No pissed off man exited the room. No cops were called. No angry demands to speak to management.
Somehow, he’d gotten out of the room. What the hell had he done? Broken the bed apart? Would she receive a bill from the motel in a few days? With her brother due to arrive, she hadn’t had time to linger, so she hightailed it back home to obsess in the comfort of her own house.
A knock at her door had her tossing the last pillow on the bed before jogging down the stairs.
“Coming,” she yelled then rolled her eyes.
Yeah, she freakin’ wished.
A quick peek through the peephole revealed her handsome big brother standing with his hands propped on his hips. He may have been the closest of her siblings, but they looked the most different. His hair was blonde to her auburn, and his freckle-free skin tanned like he wasn’t of the same Irish descent as she was. They did, however, share the same green eyes.
It took a minute, as it always did these days, to unlock the four deadbolts, but once she had the door opened, she flung herself into her brother’s arms. “Scotty,” she said as his thick arms closed around her.
“Hey, sis.” He engulfed her like he always did, in a bear hug that stole her breath.
