her . Obsessively, aggressively, crazily . . . exclusively
in love with her. He’d known in a heartbeat he’d do anything for
her, do anything to protect her, slay any beast for her.
He admitted, he’d probably gone somewhat off the
rails those first few months, thinking she might slip from his
fingers. He remembered the sheer, unmitigated frustration of a
conqueror unable to best an opponent. But finally, he’d nailed her
down and nailed her down good. In between nailing her? Somehow, God
knows how, he’d gone for the gold and achieved it; he’d maneuvered
her into marriage.
Even now, years later, his lips twisted in triumph at
the memory.
She’d thought it had been romantic, the wedding of
her dreams . . . he’d thought it had been ingenious, the coup of
his lifetime.
Even after all this time, she had no idea what a
sick, jealous bastard he was. Oh, she knew he was jealous . . . she
just didn’t know how insane he was with it. It was a goddamn
miracle he wasn’t locked-up in prison somewhere. Well, he hadn’t
killed anybody . . . yet. But it had come damn close a few
times.
Simple things set him off. They’d be walking through
a mall parking lot with her hand caught and held in his, just like
it always was, and he’d see some guy looking at her just a little
too long. He’d feel tension rise in his bloodstream, his muscles
would tighten, a pounding would begin in his head . . . but then
she’d stop in her tracks and choose that exact moment to
slip her arms around his waist, raise her beautiful face to his,
stand on tiptoe and kiss him. She never seemed to care if there
were other people around. If was almost as if she knew . . .
a soft look that never failed to entrance him would come over her
features, she’d tip her head back, her eyes would lock on his,
mesmerizing him, and then her lips would be on his. His brain would
momentarily split in two, his cock would engorge, he’d taste the
blissful promise on her lips and every other thought inside his
head would disappear from his brain.
And when he’d surface from her kiss, whatever guy had
pissed him off would be long gone, and she’d tug on his hand,
smiling her serene little smile while she pulled him to wherever
they’d been going in the first place.
Shit like that happened all the time.
And since it was his red-hot jealousy that made him
snap, it never happened when she wasn’t with him. He only had to
worry about losing control when she was in his vicinity.
And there lay his biggest problem; he was only truly
happy when she was with him, so he had to keep his jealousy in
check, control his obsessive feelings. All the fucking time.
And that was difficult to do. Because just the
thought of some motherfucker even thinking about touching her was
enough to make him want to commit cold-blooded murder.
He continued to put his clothes on with more
expeditious motions. He couldn’t get home soon enough.
****
Lauren glanced at her watch, a coil of both tension
and excitement running down her spine. Eleven o-clock in the
morning, straight up. Could she keep this project a secret from
Logan? She had, by her estimation, less than twenty-four hours
before he’d be home from Dallas. Surely that would be enough time
to meet with the last contractor, let him take measurements, give
her some quick thoughts on his ideas to see if they meshed with
hers.
She should have planned this project a month earlier,
but damn, the holiday season had snuck up on her this year. She’d
bought presents for both her family and his, wrapped them and
shipped them ahead of time. The entire week she’d been shopping,
the entire month before that even, she hadn’t been able to come up
with a single thing that Logan might want. Oh sure, she’d bought
him a bunch of silly things, along with socks and ties and whatnot.
But she couldn’t come up with that one amazing present she needed
to make his Christmas perfect. And it had been driving her
batty!
But then,
in love with her. He’d known in a heartbeat he’d do anything for
her, do anything to protect her, slay any beast for her.
He admitted, he’d probably gone somewhat off the
rails those first few months, thinking she might slip from his
fingers. He remembered the sheer, unmitigated frustration of a
conqueror unable to best an opponent. But finally, he’d nailed her
down and nailed her down good. In between nailing her? Somehow, God
knows how, he’d gone for the gold and achieved it; he’d maneuvered
her into marriage.
Even now, years later, his lips twisted in triumph at
the memory.
She’d thought it had been romantic, the wedding of
her dreams . . . he’d thought it had been ingenious, the coup of
his lifetime.
Even after all this time, she had no idea what a
sick, jealous bastard he was. Oh, she knew he was jealous . . . she
just didn’t know how insane he was with it. It was a goddamn
miracle he wasn’t locked-up in prison somewhere. Well, he hadn’t
killed anybody . . . yet. But it had come damn close a few
times.
Simple things set him off. They’d be walking through
a mall parking lot with her hand caught and held in his, just like
it always was, and he’d see some guy looking at her just a little
too long. He’d feel tension rise in his bloodstream, his muscles
would tighten, a pounding would begin in his head . . . but then
she’d stop in her tracks and choose that exact moment to
slip her arms around his waist, raise her beautiful face to his,
stand on tiptoe and kiss him. She never seemed to care if there
were other people around. If was almost as if she knew . . .
a soft look that never failed to entrance him would come over her
features, she’d tip her head back, her eyes would lock on his,
mesmerizing him, and then her lips would be on his. His brain would
momentarily split in two, his cock would engorge, he’d taste the
blissful promise on her lips and every other thought inside his
head would disappear from his brain.
And when he’d surface from her kiss, whatever guy had
pissed him off would be long gone, and she’d tug on his hand,
smiling her serene little smile while she pulled him to wherever
they’d been going in the first place.
Shit like that happened all the time.
And since it was his red-hot jealousy that made him
snap, it never happened when she wasn’t with him. He only had to
worry about losing control when she was in his vicinity.
And there lay his biggest problem; he was only truly
happy when she was with him, so he had to keep his jealousy in
check, control his obsessive feelings. All the fucking time.
And that was difficult to do. Because just the
thought of some motherfucker even thinking about touching her was
enough to make him want to commit cold-blooded murder.
He continued to put his clothes on with more
expeditious motions. He couldn’t get home soon enough.
****
Lauren glanced at her watch, a coil of both tension
and excitement running down her spine. Eleven o-clock in the
morning, straight up. Could she keep this project a secret from
Logan? She had, by her estimation, less than twenty-four hours
before he’d be home from Dallas. Surely that would be enough time
to meet with the last contractor, let him take measurements, give
her some quick thoughts on his ideas to see if they meshed with
hers.
She should have planned this project a month earlier,
but damn, the holiday season had snuck up on her this year. She’d
bought presents for both her family and his, wrapped them and
shipped them ahead of time. The entire week she’d been shopping,
the entire month before that even, she hadn’t been able to come up
with a single thing that Logan might want. Oh sure, she’d bought
him a bunch of silly things, along with socks and ties and whatnot.
But she couldn’t come up with that one amazing present she needed
to make his Christmas perfect. And it had been driving her
batty!
But then,
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