her or a hand on her like now. The way he played with her breasts, or just touched her, or ran his hands over her body, made her feel so…so beautiful. Desirable.
She rolled her eyes. Of course, being taken a ka-zillion times in one night pretty much had the same effect. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, feeling a quiver inside at the difference between his and hers. Darkly tanned, callused, muscular. His wrists were the size of her hands. He let her explore, propping his head up to watch her in the dying candlelight. After a minute, she kissed his palm and curled the fingers down.
When she released him, he stroked her cheek, a faint smile on his face. “You worry me, little sub,” he murmured. “Did your parents forget to provide you with a talk button?”
She frowned at him. “What does that mean?”
“I expected a string of curses after your punishment. Instead you buried everything. Time to talk.” His blue eyes were intent on hers. “How did you feel about getting spanked?”
She jerked her face away, only to have him grasp her chin and force her to look at him. “No talk button, sorry,” she said, knowing already that stalling was hopeless. “It's time to get some sleep, don't you think?”
His thumb grazed her lips. “Did your parents spank you?”
Stubborn jerk. “Mom did once or twice.” She tried to remember. “For running away once. For playing with matches.”
“That's normal enough. Your father didn't spank you?”
She shook her head. “He moved out before I turned eight.” Because she and her mother were fat and boring. Without thinking, she pushed Logan's hand away from her face.
His eyes narrowed. “Did he hurt you physically?”
“I said no, didn't I?” She edged her hips sideways to turn more away from him.
With a grunt of exasperation, he used one heavy hand to flatten her on her back. “It was verbal, then. What did he say?”
“Listen, Logan,” she snapped. “I want to sleep, not play psychobabble games, okay?”
“Skinny,” he murmured. “I remember. Your daddy preferred skinny.”
She gasped, his words sliding like a knife into her heart.
“Uh-huh.” He wrapped an arm over her, sliding her more tightly against his warm body. His hand squeezed her hip gently. “Becca, your father was a blind asshole. I like you just like this.” He chuckled. “And I really like spanking curvy bottoms.”
The pain still lingered, but she relaxed slightly into his warmth. “Why did you ask me about spanking? Did you think I'd be pleased?”
“Sometimes physical or even mental punishment can revive old problems. You reacted like a pissed-off woman. I didn't see anything deeper, aside from you getting turned on.” His grin flashed. “But I might miss something important. And you need to learn to talk about your reactions, pet.”
He'd watched her that closely? Then again, why should she be surprised? He always did. She pursed her lips as something he said registered. “I wasn't turned on.”
“Oh, yes you were, or I wouldn't have been able to take you from behind without a whole lot more work.”
When his eyes crinkled, she could feel the heat in her face. God, turned on by a spanking? “That doesn't seem right.”
“People are all different.” He grinned. “I enjoyed putting you over my knees and walloping your soft ass. Watching it turn pink and feeling you squirm.” His hand brushed over her breasts, making her aware of how her nipples had peaked. “I could have chosen a different punishment, but I wanted to know how you react to pain within a sexual context.”
She glared at him. “Pain is pain.”
He pinched her nipple, and she felt the sting shoot straight to her core.
His eyes glinted with amusement. “Not exactly.”
Her face had flushed pink, her eyes dilating. What he wouldn't give to teach her more about pain and pleasure. And he wanted to delve deeper into those problems with her self-image, apparently originating from her asshole father. But he had no right to take this further.
In fact, considering his exhaustion, he should leave right now before he fell asleep. “I'm going to check something downstairs.”
Her hand slipped from his waist down his front, then wrapped around his rapidly reviving cock.
Talking about spanking her had definitely been a mistake.
Her soft pink lips curved in a smile. “Permission to assault, Sir?” she asked in a throaty voice. In a smooth move, she pushed him onto his back and wiggled on top of him, keeping her ankle raised. Opening her legs to straddle him, she slid down until her soft pussy pressed against his cockhead.
Well. He could always sneak away later. “Granted. Assault away.”
Chapter Sixteen
Rebecca awoke snuggled up against Logan's side with his arm wrapped around her. The time on the bedside clock glowed red in the dark room. Five in the morning. Not long until dawn. Not long until she needed to get into Matt's car and leave this place. And Logan.
God, she didn't want to leave. Not like this, with no plans to see him again.
Why did she feel this way? She certainly wasn't in love with him. No way. Not after knowing him less than a week.
Besides he would fail her perfect man list within the first few requirements.
Number one: smart. Well, okay, he passed that one.
Number two: liked the city. She wrinkled her nose. Maybe she shouldn't count that, considering her second thoughts about the city.
Then she probably needed to also drop the professional requirement. Besides, a business owner, whether deep in the wilderness or not, was a professional.
But the feminist requirement, the not macho?
What did it say about her, though, that his strength gave her thrills? That she wanted him to tie her to a bed and do things to her? Heat slid through her veins, pooling in her lower half as if to illustrate the point.
Come to think of it, he hadn't been a macho pig when they worked together on the trail. He obviously enjoyed arguing with her and conceded easily when she had a better idea. And in the games they played that afternoon, he hadn't acted as if she didn't have a brain.
She scowled. He certainly didn't dress well, and he probably didn't like Chinese either. As if either really mattered, dammit. So why wasn't this overbearing, macho man asking her to stick around or to visit, or making plans to come and see her? He sure acted as if he liked her.
She bit her lip as butterflies made loop-de-loops from her stomach up into her throat. If he wouldn't say something, she would.
“Shhh, it's just a nightmare.”
Logan froze. He didn't move as the stench of sweat and blood and gunpowder drifted away, as screams faded from his hearing. Eventually he could hear the quiet breathing of someone next to him and his own rasping breaths. His hand wasn't in a fist but grasped a curvy hip. “Becca?”
A low laugh. “I never thought anyone's nightmares could be worse than mine.”
She had no idea.
Her hand stroked his chest, and she snuggled closer. “Logan. Sir. I was thinking. We're good togeth-Uh, I really
