Matter of Time by Alannah Lynne

point she was his in every way.
    This was a claiming, a marking, a branding… She was his. His hands gripped her hips as he drove into her again and again, and all she could do was grasp the bedding and hold on so he didn’t drive her so far up the bed she rammed her head into the headboard.
    His hand snaked around her waist, his fingers clasped onto her clit, and with a solid pinch, he said, “Come now.”
    And God, did she ever. She bucked and rolled with him as he roared out his release and continued to drive into her like a man possessed. As the waves crashed down on her, a drum beat echoed in her head. She thought it was her pounding heartbeat echoing in her ears, and then she realized it really was a drumbeat. A constant, steady beating on the door.
    And then Lucas’s voice rang through the quiet of the room. “Logan… open the fucking door.”

Chapter Ten

    L ogan drew in a shuddering breath and blinked a couple of times, clearing his vision, while his brain tried to fit together the pieces of this awkward puzzle. Lizbeth was on her hands and knees, gasping for air. He was arched over her, buried balls deep, and his brother was pounding down the door.
    “What the fuck?” His voice was even froggier than normal after that round of intense pleasure, but nothing would’ve reached his brothers ears over the cadence of his heavy fist beating on the door.
    Logan wanted to be annoyed… or amused by the thought of someone calling to complain about the earth-shattering noise he and Lizbeth just made, but the tone of Lucas’s voice as he repeated again, “Logan, for the love of God, wrap that shit up and open the damned door,” told Logan something was wrong. Seriously wrong.
    He pulled away from Lizbeth, then tossed the sheet over her before padding bare-ass naked to the door. If someone passed by in the hallway and caught a glimpse of his half-mast cock, who the fuck cared? They were in a sex club after all.
    As he ripped open the door, the utter despair on Lucas’s face confirmed his worst fears. “What’s wrong?”
    “Bobbi Jo called—”
    Panic clawed at his throat and a scream ripped through his head as every cell in his body snapped rigid with fear for his children.
    Reading his mind, Lucas threw his hands up in the air, as if trying to stop Logan from tripping on his thoughts. “The kids are fine. Everyone got out okay, but the house is on fire.”
    He sucked in air and exhaled sharply as the kids are fine registered strong and steady in his brain, but the house is on fire was taking longer to sink in, and he blinked with confusion as words failed him and emotions warred within.
    Fortunately, Lizbeth stepped up next to him and started asking the questions he couldn’t form. “Whose house is on fire? The one Bobbi Jo and the kids live in or Logan’s?”
    He latched onto her strong, steady voice and allowed it to ground him while he gathered his thoughts.
    “Bobbi Jo’s house,” Lucas said. “The kids have been trying to call Logan, and when they couldn’t reach him, Bobbi Jo called me.”
    Logan pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and ground against them as his brain snapped back online with sudden clarity. “I put my phone on silent because the kids were driving me crazy.” Shit. Could he be any more of a selfish son of a bitch? His kids had been in danger… their fucking house was on fire , and he’d silenced his phone because he didn’t want to be bothered.
    He must’ve spoken aloud at least part of his thoughts, because Lucas and Lizbeth both started in on how he was entitled to privacy, this wasn’t his fault, and even if the kids got through to him, it wouldn’t have changed anything. But he tuned them out as he turned and reached for his cell phone with shaking hands.
    Fourteen missed calls.
    Fourteen. Fucking. Missed. Calls.
    He dropped his bare ass onto the chair and flipped through the call list, needing to see for himself that each of the kids had called so he would