18. Jared

EIGHTEEN

The keyto the cabin is hidden in a lockbox disguised as a log at the side of the house. After I retrieve it with the code Faith gave me, I unlock the door and push it open. Even though the cabin is winterized, no one's been here in months. It's cold inside, but at least the drip drip from the faucet means the pipes haven't frozen over.

Logan comes up behind me, arms wrapped around himself. He takes in the cabin with a closed expression on his face. I hate that look. It's haunted and afraid, two things Logan should never be. But he is. Because of me.

I pull him into my arms and after a split second of resistance, he burrows into me. That fraction of a second, though, it's a stab straight through my heart. There are so many things I would do differently if I had the chance to turn the clock back six months. So many decisions I would change.

I will always regret not telling him who I am sooner. I will always regret betraying his trust. But if there's one positive thing I've learned from the trauma of undercover work, it's that we can't turn clocks back. The past is past, no matter how much we regret it, no matter how much guilt we carry. The only thing I can do is make sure I don't make the same mistakes going forward.

The walkie-talkie in my pocket crackles to life, then Victoria's voice comes through. "Alpha One, this is Delta. Come in."

"Alpha One here. What's up?"

"Just checking to see if you've got all the supplies you need. You know, enough firewood, marshmallows for hot chocolate. That sort of thing."

That sort of thing? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"We're not exactly here for vacation."

"Copy that. But we don't know how long we'll be here for. Just making sure you guys are comfortable."

Comfortable. Why the fuck would she care if we're comfortable?

Logan's fiddling with my coat, running his thumb up and down the zipper's teeth. I stare at the top of his head, but either he doesn't notice or he's ignoring Victoria's cryptic comments.

"We're fine. Thanks for the concern," I respond, not bothering to hide my suspicion. "Do you know what that was about?"

Logan shrugs, but he still doesn't quite meet my gaze. "Nope."

He takes a step backward and heads outside to grab our bags.

Neither of us have been home since the abduction. Me because I was in the hospital. Logan because the Bureau deemed it unsafe while Alonzo was still on the lam. So instead, we sent some rookies out to buy a few changes of clothes as well as enough food to last us a week. Plus two bulletproof vests and firearms, and the bandages and shit for my leg. It takes us a couple trips to bring everything inside.

After he closes the door behind us, Logan does a slow circle around the cabin, opening cabinets and drawers as he goes. The whole place is one big room with a corner partitioned off for the bathroom.

At some point, it was renovated with underfloor heating and a fancy free-standing tub. But it still maintains its rustic charm with solid wood furniture and hand-knit blankets.

There's a wood-burning stove in one corner and a double bed against the far wall. The kitchen has a small gas stove and an under-the-counter fridge. It's perfect for one or two people—which is why Faith and her family of four don't come out here often.

The ironic thing is, I've thought about bringing Logan out here before. In my mind, we'd drive up on a Friday afternoon, turn both our phones off, and do nothing but fuck and snuggle until we needed to eat. Maybe we'd take a hike through the snow and I could make Logan come up against a tree. Then we could fill up the luxurious tub only to spill water all over the place when I fucked him in it. We'd dry ourselves in front of a roaring fire while my cock took up residence in his ass.

So much for a romantic weekend getaway.

As Logan continues to explore, I go to the wood-burning stove to start a fire. There's a large pile of logs stacked along the wall, more than enough to last us the entire week, and a box of fire starter cubes sitting on top.

It only takes me a few minutes to arrange the logs inside the stove and get a small flame going. When Logan joins me a moment later, the flame is already licking at the dried logs.

"That's nice," he says, sitting on the carpeted floor next to me.

"It is," I agree.

We stare silently into the fire for several beats.

"What are we supposed to do now?" he asks in a small voice.

"We wait."

He scrunches up his nose, looking absolutely adorable. God, what I wouldn't give to hit pause on time, to pretend our lives are not hanging in the balance. I want to strip every piece of clothing off his body and suck on every inch of skin I reveal. I want to worship Logan and make him forget about the abduction, about Alonzo Adams, about everything but us.

"Jared?" His voice is a little lower than usual. His eyes darken as his pupils grow wide. His lips part and his breath hitches.

He shifts to his knees and places a hand on my arm. My heart is racing. With the residual adrenaline of the past few days. With anticipation for the next few. We can't change the past and we have no control over the future. But we have right now. This moment. This instant.

Logan's lips are on mine before I can think better of stopping him. He's sweet and tangy, that intoxicating mix that drives me wild. I drink it in, licking into his mouth for more.

I grunt as Logan pushes me back and I tip over across the floor. Pain flairs across my ribs, reminding me that they're not completely healed.

Logan starts, sitting back on his heels. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

I gingerly push myself off the floor, then onto my feet. I'm normally all for floor sex, but my body might appreciate a bed today. I grab Logan's hand and pull him up to me. "I'm fine."

He lets out a whimper when our lips connect again. He rubs his body against mine and despite the discomfort of my injuries, my cock roars to life.

Our hands tear at each other's clothes. Winter coats, sweaters, shirts. Logan grabs the waistband of my jeans and leads me toward the bed. Then he spins us around and pushes me down onto the mattress. He rids me of my boots and socks, jeans and boxers, then hurries to strip off the remainder of his clothes too.

I reach for him, and he comes willingly into my arms. Christ, it feels so good to have his naked body flush against mine. The slight scratch of his body hair, the rounded curves of his muscles. He's a bit shorter than me, slimmer than me, but that means we fit together perfectly. Better than perfect. Divine.

Logan rolls on top, careful to keep his weight suspended above me. Then he breaks the kiss. "I want to lick you all over."

My cock jerks at the thought.

"Every cut, every bruise, every scar. I want to kiss each one and make them mine. I'll chase away every ounce of hurt, every inch of pain, until you're whole again."

My throat grows tight. "There are a lot of them."

His lips curl into a smile and he leans down to whisper in my ear. "I'll make you whole, then I'll take you apart."

A shudder runs through me. I'm not used to being the one lying down, doing nothing. I'm used to taking charge, making demands, issuing orders. Letting someone else take the lead in bed is so counter to my natural instinct. And yet. It's what I want.

So badly.

I want Logan to snatch the reins out of my hands. I want him to erase all the ugliness from my life and replace it with his light. I want to surrender myself to him, to his joy and his goodness. He can do whatever he wants with me. Take me apart, put me back together—it doesn't matter. I'm his to do with as he pleases.

"Logan." His name comes out as a sob.

He hushes me with gentle kisses along my jaw. "Shh, it's okay. I've got you."

And he does. Logan peppers kisses over my shoulder and collarbone. He licks my pecs before taking my nipple between his lips. My groin tightens as he sucks and a drop of pre-cum pearls on my slit.

He kisses his way to my other pec and my other nipple. And when I bring my hands up to bury my fingers in his hair, he sucks a little bit harder.

Fuck.

His mouth is the most delicious torture. The wet heat, the flicks of his tongue, the tender scrapes of his teeth. But more than that, it's the heat in his eyes as he gazes up at me. It makes my breath hitch, my heart thuds heavily in my chest, and my insides melt under his intense scrutiny.

He kisses the blackened splotches over my ribs, and I wouldn't be surprised if the bruises fade a few shades under his attention. His lips find an old scar that runs across my left side. He licks along the length and a shiver shoots up my spine.

"This isn't from a childhood accident at the playground, is it?"

That was the story I told him the first time he asked. I shake my head. "Stab wound."

His eyes darken, not with lust, but with anger. He presses his lips to the scar again, holding himself there as if he can physically remove evidence of the old injury by sucking it off my skin.

My eyes sting as Logan slowly drains the tightness from my body, the wounds from my soul. He sees me, the real me, this broken, damaged, imperfect man, and for some unknowable, incomprehensible reason, he loves me. He loves me and that is the best medicine, the most addicting drug I'll ever find.

Logan's down by my leg, the one with the hole in it. My thigh is tightly bound with a wide swath of bandages. He blows a stream of warm air across the area and my skin tingles in response. He licks along the edge, where the bandages meet my skin, then presses long, soft kisses on the injury itself.

His attention is a balm to the constant ache I've had since leaving the hospital. And I swear the hole is knitting itself back together with every second Logan spends tending to it.

He works his way to my feet, then back up my other leg. By the time he gets to my cock, it's leaked a puddle of pre-cum onto my stomach. He bypasses my throbbing length and goes straight for the puddle, licking it up with long swipes of his tongue. I groan at the sight, at how eager and greedy Logan is. His eyes roll toward the back of his head as he moans.

"So delicious." He licks across my stomach again, cleaning up every last drop.

"There's more where that came from."

He grins at me, cheeky and mischievous. "Oh, I know."

He swirls his tongue around the head of my cock and it takes every ounce of self-control I have to stop myself from stuffing my dick down his throat. Even then, my hips come off the bed and Logan gently pushes me back again.

"You're injured, babe. You shouldn't be exerting yourself. Doctor's orders." He takes my cock between his lips and sucks like I'm a fucking straw.

I grip the bedsheets to keep myself from grabbing the back of his head and shoving him down on my dick.

"You are going to lie there while I do all the work." He runs his tongue down the length of my shaft, then back up.

It's impossible to stay still. My whole body vibrates with the need to be inside Logan.

"I'm going to fuck myself on your cock." Logan kisses the tip. "Your long, thick, manly cock."

I growl. "Logan."

"Shh, I've got you, babe." Then he takes me right to the back of his throat.