Shelter You (16 page)

I’d once pictured myself living in an apartment exactly like this—enjoying my youth, living up my college years in the city. I’d thought that once I’d gotten to experience it all I’d be ready to go home and focus on building a career and starting a family. Of course, it didn’t work out that way since life has a way of throwing a wrench in carefully laid plans, but the fact that I only live a short drive away from this beautiful city is a nice consolation.

Hand in hand, Logan and I spend the day walking around the streets. He even lets me drag him into a museum, where the hours slip away as we look at the many exhibits. I’m sure it isn’t his idea of fun, but he seems content to just let me admire the art while standing by my side and listening to my interpretations of the different uses of color and light.

Later, we walk around Central Park, where he takes me to a hot dog cart for lunch. Then we find a bench to sit on side by side as we eat our food and watch the world go by.

“Does it ever bother you to know how much younger I am than you?” I ask in between bites.

He throws his head back and laughs. “Thanks babe, you just succeeded in making me feel ancient.”

I giggle at his reaction. “What? It’s true that you’re older than me.”

“Yes, I am. It’s only a six year age difference. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that we’re at completely different stages in our lives. You’ve got your whole life figured out, a home, a career, and you’re pretty much settled. I on the other hand am just starting out. I’m eighteen with a baby and have no idea what’s in store for me.”

“It doesn’t have to be that difficult. If I was thirty six and you were thirty we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I just don’t want to hold you back or tie you down when you could have so much more.”

“Are we really doing this? Having this conversation in the middle of the city? Mia, you are
not
tying me down, and there’s nothing that you are holding me back from.”

I’m looking down at my feet now
.
I don’t want to look in his eyes for fear that he might see the fear that lives in mine.

“Mia, look at me.” He demands.

I lift my head and lock my gaze with his. I know he reads it; he can see through me.

“This is probably the worst possible moment… No, no it IS the worst possible moment,” he says, “but I feel like if I don’t tell you now, if I don’t make you see what I see when I look at you we will never be able to move forward.”

I inhale a sharp breath. The thought alone of not moving forward, of not being with Logan hurts like hell. “What do you see?”

“I see someone who is beautiful, a stunningly beautiful person. A person who doesn’t see her own strength and beauty. Someone who would go against anyone and anything to protect someone that she loves.” He strokes my cheek, causing the butterflies in my stomach to take flight. “What I don’t see is a number, because at the end of it all it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that I love you and you could be eighteen years old or thirty years old and it would make no difference, I would still love you.”

His words cast a spell that makes the world fade into the background. The whole city is moving in slow motion until all of the movement and noise around me virtually disappears. I try to break down the words, try to process them one sentence at a time as I attempt to commit them to memory.

He loves me. He
loves me?
He loves
me!

The words are full of magic, they’re beyond powerful. They have the ability to erase fear, to make the thing that kept me at arm’s length completely irrelevant, to make me feel larger than life when moments ago I felt so small. Most importantly they make me brave.

“I love you too, Logan,” I whisper.

He grins as our lips gravitate together, as they touch and engage in a kiss that feels unlike any other, because this one kiss holds so much hope, so many wishes, a hint of desperation and an unexpected declaration of love.

“Sky’s the limit.” Logan promises as he pulls away.

Sky’s the limit.

We’re both tired by the time night shrouds the city. There’s an electric charge in the apartment, an excitement drawing us closer and closer together.

I come out of the bathroom showered and wearing one of Logan’s t-shirts, my new preferred bedtime attire. I bound over to the bed and get under the covers just as Logan turns the lights off, just as the lights from the city shine through the windows and illuminate the room.

He looks at me with a hint of humor on his face. I love when he looks like this. Light and free, no stress, no work to worry about or lives hanging in the balance. He’s just allowed to be carefree. “Did you have fun today?”

“It was one of the best days ever,” I reply.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say, settling into his arms, my head in the crook of his neck. “Logan?”

“Hmm?”

I touch his ear lightly with my mouth. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Mia.”

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Make love to me.”

He snaps his head up and looks down at me, shaking his head slowly. “Mia, I didn’t tell you that I loved you so that you’d let me…”

“I know that,” I say, placing my hands on his bare chest, loving the warmth that radiates from him. “But I want to, I want to know how it feels when it’s between two people who really love each other. I want it to be you and I want it to be tonight.”

He stares at me for a moment, looking for some kind of doubt or hesitation on my face, a hint of fear maybe but there’s none.

Making the decision to be with Logan is an empowering one because it’s my choice to make. It stems from my own desire and love for him and maybe even the trust that he’s managed to slowly earn from me.

He bends down, appearing to have made his decision and covers my lips with his, bringing my body to full alert.

I let out a soft moan at the feel of him, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. I let my hands roam the expanse of his back, using them as a tool to bring him down closer to me.

He breaks the kiss and I whimper at the loss of him.

“Take off your shirt.” He commands. His eyes are liquid with desire and the way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful, makes me want to do any and everything to please him.

I push up slightly and pull the shirt over my head, tossing it on the floor and then lying back down.

He takes in the sight of me, and gives me a barely there grin.

“So fucking beautiful,” he says, lowering his head to place a kiss on my forehead, my nose and finally my mouth again. His hands begin roaming, circling around my sensitive breasts, down my stomach, tracing the outline of my belly button and then finally… “You’re not wearing panties.”

I bite my lip and shake my head at him.

“Miss Reynolds, I’m shocked. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were trying to seduce me.”

“You’d think right,” I say with a proud nod.

“Oh yeah?” He questions, clearly amused by my reply. “Well then, I promise that I’m going to make it worth your while.” He slips his finger in between my legs.

I inhale and close my eyes at the contact.

He continues to kiss me and explore with his hand, and when he finally reaches my clit, it’s like he flips a light switch and I’m immersed in light. He massages gently at first, eliciting uninhibited whimpers from me.

I gasp as he slips a finger inside of me and begins pumping it in and out of me slowly. As the sensations increase, his pressure and rhythm increases. His lips are everywhere now, making every square inch of me his, taking possession of me in a way that makes the cracks in my heart whole again. The orgasm hits me fast and hard sending me over the edge as I cry out for Logan.

“That’s it…I’ve got you,” he whispers, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can from me.

I close my eyes as I float back down to earth trying to recover from the fall. I vaguely notice Logan moving away from me. Then I hear the crinkling sound of a wrapper and
moments later he’s back, naked and hovering over me, using his lower body to draw my legs apart. I can feel his hardness as he positions himself at my entrance, his hand now on either side of my head. He’s careful not to touch me or hold me down.

“Are you okay?” he asks, kissing the corner of my mouth.

“Yes,” I reply, searching his eyes for reassurance.

“Are you sure you want me to keep going?”

I know he’d stop if I asked. He’d make it okay for me to back out and put an end to this, but backing out means giving up; it means quitting and letting my fear rule me and I truly want to let all of that go.

“I’m sure. I’m ready.”

“Is there anything else that might scare you?”

“No, just don’t hold me down…and go slow.” I add quickly, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

“Baby look at me,” he says. I pull back slowly and look up at his beautiful face. “I will not hurt you. I promise.”

I nod my head.

“I’m going to link my hands with yours okay? But I’m not holding you down, I’m just holding your hands.” He joins our hands together as he said he’d do and looks for my reaction. “Is this alright?”

“Yes. It’s good.”

“Just look at me, concentrate on me. It’s just us.” He brings his forehead down to mine and slowly slides inside of me. “It’s just you and me…”

He continues to whisper, understanding my need for reassurance. Understanding that bad memories have a nasty habit of resurfacing at the most inopportune times but not tonight, because tonight is about us and Logan’s love makes me stronger. It’s just us and the past can’t touch me. The past can’t hurt me when I’m with Logan, because the past is all about darkness, but Logan is the light and as long as I’m in the light I’m safe, I’m protected.

Once I adjust to the feel of him inside of me, I nod my understanding of his words just barely rocking my hips to indicate my desire for him to move.

He kisses me again, tangling his tongue with mine as he starts to move inside of me, slowly thrusting in and out in a circular motion. Our hands joined, lips mashed together, bodies connected, my legs instinctively wrap around him as we meld together every single part of me is tied to him, bound together and nothing else matters. There are no ghosts here, no fear. It’s just me and Logan, in love, expressing that emotion in the most natural way. I begin to pant as his rhythm increases, quietly moaning, as the pressure starts to build again.

“Oh God, Mia.” He calls in my ear as he increases his pace yet again, squeezing my hands tighter and effectively pushing me to the edge again.

“Logan…” I cry out as I try to breathe through the stirring of sensations fighting to take over my body.

“I’m right here, just let go.” He lets go of my hands and lifts my bottom to give him better leverage.

His eyes are on me, lustful and frantic, and as his mouth
descends on mine the dam breaks open and I’m flooded with my climax—overpowered by sensations, all
of which make me want him even more. I want him for loving me, for making love to me and for freeing me from the chains that have held onto me for too long. His release rips through him, his face buried into the crook of my neck, all the while I’m wishing that I could bottle up this moment and keep it close, carry it with me always so that I’ll always be able to recall what perfection feels like.

I’m a little sore this morning when I wake up, but I like it. For a long time now I’ve been going through the motions, taking life one day at a time, finding pieces of happiness here and there. Today I feel alive, I feel whole and it’s funny that it took making love to get there but doing it on my own terms was like taking my power back.

Logan and I take a warm shower together; he makes breakfast while I get myself put together.

I’m standing by the glass windows with a cup of coffee in my hands, I’m staring out at the city wondering what my life would be like if this was an alternate universe, if this was my reality. Logan comes up behind me and rests his head on my shoulder as his arms circle my waist. “This was my dream.” I tell him.