one from the rest of the house.
I had a very clear memory of Mrs. Jones putting the blue bin out by the trash about a week before she left. Logan had rescued it. Marching into the house that distant trash day, bin in hand, Logan had asked me to take Stevie to the park and ice cream parlor. When we returned, the house was eerily quiet and the bin was back in the laundry room. A week later, Mrs. Jones booked me for a Friday evening while Logan had special duty, patted Stevie once on the head as she left for a supposed nail appointment and never came back.
Aside from a call that night to Logan and one to her parents to let them know she was alive and enjoying a little alone time, no one had heard from her since. Logan had waited as long as the law required then filed for divorce claiming abandonment. He published the notice in the classifieds, locally and in her parents' community, but she stayed away.
Getting down to the blue bin, he motioned me away from the door and into the living room. From there, he directed me through the kitchen and into the garage. A side door on the garage opened onto a small patch of the front lawn and the trash bin. He opened the trash bin, then the blue one.
A white silk and lace pillow rested on top of the bin's other contents. It looked like a ring pillow — the kind used at weddings. He tossed it in the trash then scooped out a long, white gauzy piece of fabric that ended in a silk and rhinestone studded headband.
A wedding veil.
'She threw the dress out a month after the wedding, but I managed to salvage those. Had them cleaned. She's thrown them out a couple more times since then.' He didn't look at me when he spoke, just reached into the bin, grabbed a pencil box from it and let the larger container fall to the ground.
Opening the pencil box, he plucked a white garter from it and shot it into the trash. My brain did a double take at the size of the garter. It couldn't have belonged to Mrs. Jones. At least that's what I thought until he handed me the top photo from the stack the box held.
The major, then a second lieutenant, was instantly recognizable. The woman next to him — not so much. Her eyes were the same color as those of Mrs. Jones and Stevie. Her hair matched Stevie's in coloring, too, but the Mrs. Jones I knew was a bleached blonde. The discrepancy I really couldn't wrap my head around was the size of the woman.
'She lost thirty pounds before the wedding.' Taking the picture from me, he tossed it in the trash. 'Didn't stop dieting after that, not even when she got pregnant with Stevie and I had to beg her to eat.'
He flashed another picture at me, even older than the first judging by how much bigger Mrs. Jones appeared. Logan shuffled a few pictures in which Mrs. Jones did not appear to the bottom of the stack then handed me one of her with a small bundle in her arms and three sizes smaller than her wedding photo.
'Stevie has never seen this picture because she thought she was still too heavy. Or this one or this one…' He shuffled through several more pictures, letting me catch a glimpse of the ever shrinking Mrs. Jones before he tossed each one into the trash. The photos that didn't have her in them, he kept.
Finished, he closed the lid on the trash, tossed the empty blue bin into the garage then ushered me back into the kitchen. Closing the door to the garage, he tossed the pencil box with its remaining photos on the counter and gently pushed me against the wall. His arms came up and he planted a palm on each side of me, his body forming an inescapable barrier.
'You have something to say, Lily.'
It was an order, not a question. He wanted me to explain myself. I didn't want to. How could I admit that I had run out after the best sex of my life with a man I'd been crushing on for five years because I didn't trust him to find me attractive the morning after?
Releasing a heavy breath, Logan leaned close. His lips ghosted along my cheek and he repeated the order. 'You have something to say.'
Fighting the urge to touch him, I pressed my palms flat against the wall and inhaled sharply. 'I'm sorry!'
That was it. Three syllables of absolute ineptitude after I had rejected him and walked away.
He stepped closer, only stopping when our bodies touched. 'That wasn't what I meant.'
Feeling the hard swell of an erection against my lower stomach, I went a little weak in the knees. His hands moved from the wall to my hips. Angling his head, he lowered it. His mouth moved against my throat and then he took a small nip before growling softly. 'One more time, baby. You have something to say.'
My words came out fast and broken. 'I left because I was afraid you wouldn't find me attractive after the initial rush.'
His right hand surfed up my side as his growl turned into a purr. 'Baby, I think you’re the sexiest thing on two legs.'
Hearing my own description of Logan thrown back at me, I offered a short laugh. His grip growing more possessive and sensual, he cinched me against his hard body. He kissed up to my ear, then took another small bite. 'You're staying the night, Lily.'
It wasn't my night to retrieve Rhea from ballet.
'Okay,' I whispered softly.
'The weekend, too.' Another kiss, another bite and then his hand gripped my mound and squeezed.
With no chance in hell I would disagree, I offered another meek acquiescence. 'Sure.'
'Baby, are you trying to completely kill my ego?' He laughed grimly, his free hand palming my breast. 'No enthusiasm, just okay and sure?'
I met his gaze then blushed madly. 'I'm enthusiastic. Believe me.'
'I'll check for myself.' The grim expression evaporated as one side of his face lifted in a mischievous grin. The hand at my mound slid up. He unbuttoned and unzipped me then his fingers smoothed over my hairless flesh to part my labia. When my juices instantly soaked his fingers, he groaned.
Taking firm, curling strokes against my clit, he kissed me hard, biting hungrily at the edges of my mouth until I opened to him. His tongue licked up under my top lip as I pumped my pussy against his hand.
Gasping, groaning from his expert manipulation, I hovered right at the edge of climax — just one stroke or bite away.
'Lily! Are you here?'
'Gaah…' Exhaling, I collapsed against the door as Stevie's voice shattered my concentration.
'Lily!'
'Just a second, little man.' I choked the answer out then punched Logan's steel-plated chest when he chuckled at my frustration. 'Just trying to figure out what we should have for dinner.'
As if he had been saving the dish's name for three weeks, Stevie responded immediately with a joyful, evil trill. 'Baba ganoush!'
Logan lifted his mouth from where he sucked at my throat. 'That's eggplant, champ. How about pizza and wings?'
A triumphant yessss!!! snaked its way from Stevie's bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen.
'You know that was his master plan in asking for baba ganoush, right?' I whispered, my neck turning to putty as Logan's mouth returned to its sensitive flesh.
'Mm-hmm…' He licked and sucked a line up to my ear as his fingers restarted their dance. 'But if he goes to bed happy, then I can eat what I want all…night…long.'
After dinner, a little homework and one ambiguous call to my mom, we finally put Stevie down for the night then sat on the couch in the living room. Logan curled one arm around my shoulder, his neck bent and angled to kiss along my throat.
The man has amazing lips — and hands. His mouth working my neck, he cupped my breast with his free hand. Through the fabric, he manipulated the nipple, quickly bringing it to a swollen peak.
'So thick, baby.' Licking at my throat, he unfastened two buttons on my blouse to slide his hand inside. He pushed his fingers under the lacy fabric of my bra to directly touch the nipple. I moaned and he chuckled. 'Mmm… sensitive.'
I wanted him to kiss my mouth. I turned my head, seeking his lips, but he evaded me. Another button fell to his deft fingers and he lifted my breast from the material cupping it. His mouth descended and he slowly sucked the nipple inside.
He hadn't even touched me below the belly button, but I was in full squirm mode. My ample bottom digging
