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  Because hell if she was uncomfortable. Sure, this was everything she’d ever wanted with Logan and more, but she was terrified she was going to do something to fuck it up. And she didn’t want to do that because, dammit, she was ready to drop the L bomb and profess an undying commitment to this man right now. Even Katie knew this was a no-no with Logan. No matter how much “more” he wanted, she knew if she told him what she really felt, he’d hightail it the hell out of here, leaving her right where she was before.

  “You rested?” Logan laid a chaste kiss on her nose before standing and settling her back on the ground.

  She nodded. “Yeah.” Resisting the urge to call him something like snookums or love biscuit, she slapped her hands on her thighs. “Lead on.” Okay, she couldn’t resist. “Love Biscuit.”

  He snapped his head around and quirked an eyebrow at her. “Love Biscuit?”

  She shrugged, her eyes glued to his fantastic ass. “Yeah. Just trying out pet names. Carry on.”

  “How does that one fit?”

  “Not sure yet, but I could call you LB in public so your friends wouldn’t make fun of you. What do you think?” She played nonchalant, even though he was cracking her up. His eyebrows were now melding with his hairline, and his jaw was twitching enough he looked like he may be having a fit of some kind.

  “No.”

  Shrugging again, she said, “Okay, I’ll keep thinking.”

  “You do that,” he growled as he turned back to the trail, and Katie jogged to catch up to him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Logan was on shift at the fire station fulfilling his new duties as Interim Fire Chief. He’d fulfilled basic chief duties before, but now he had all the fucking paperwork. That was the headache. He sat at the chief’s desk trying to sort through what had happened this shift and ready to be finished, but his brain wouldn’t focus.

  Over the last week, he had been thinking of his mortality, his life, his past, and his future. It all swirled around in his head, dredging up the mud—things he didn’t want to remember, like Jessica. She was the woman who’d taught him what he was and then taught him who he didn’t want to be. To think about her at the same time as he thought about Chavez and Katie pissed him off.

  He and Elliot had gotten their GEDs together, and he was working nights at a bar in Denver, slaving for enough tip money to pay for the academy. That’s where he’d met Jessica. He thought he was in love with her and moved in with her almost immediately. She’d opened his world, showing him what the BDSM lifestyle was like by living it with him 24/7.

  He’d learned so much with her: how to wield implements of pain for pleasure, what a sub looked for in a live-in, full-time relationship, and what it meant to top from the bottom—because that’s what she excelled at. He’d learned control, but Logan had also lost a lot of it. Eventually, he couldn’t give Jessica what she needed because she wasn’t a true sub, and she barely understood it herself. One night, she had wanted him to try knife play, saying she needed to bleed. They’d discussed it, and Logan had eventually decided not to do it. He found her the next morning with a package of Lady Bics she’d taken apart and sliced herself with, against his wishes. He never could understand why she wanted to do it in the first place and had told her if she couldn’t tell him why, he wasn’t going to do it. She did it anyway and ended up hurting herself. She was great at wielding jealousy like a tool as well.

  That was when Logan realized he couldn’t be her Dom anymore. She wanted a full-time Dom to tell her what to do, but only what she told her Dom to tell her.

  Since then, he’d gone as far away from the 24/7 Dom as he could and never participated in knife play. He’d trained to be a real Dominant, and he would dominate any submissive, but only once. And then he was done.

  It had served him well, until Katherine. And now, as he thought about her, he wasn’t even sorry.

  Logan shuffled paperwork and sighed. He sucked at this part, honestly, and as much as he’d wanted this position a few years ago, he didn’t anymore. His education hadn’t prepared him for this, and though he loved the other aspects of the job—the leadership, the double-checking gear, setting up the training exercises, the responsibilities involved—he didn’t like the paperwork that was ultimately submitted to the state for funding.

  “Three points of contact on the ladder at all times, guys!” Zane yelled at Walter, who was attempting to run up the damn thing. “You can do that and still be quick about it, but don’t be stupid. If you get hurt being reckless, who will save the people in the burn house?”

  Katie knew this was a bone of contention with Zane, and probably Jude too. Jude had been hurt on a ladder at the beginning of this year, and Zane blamed himself for some aspect of Vivian losing her home, although the details of that were fuzzy to Katie. She remembered the incident and knew Zane had almost been hurt badly, but why he blamed himself was unclear to her.

  Katie’s turn on the ladder. She looked up at it as she lifted her feet to get into the harness.

  Katie knew she should not have worn shorts today. In fact, if she’d realized she’d be wearing a harness that made Logan look at her like that—drawing so much attention to her butt, including Brant’s eyes—she’d have worn jeans. But he’d told them to dress comfortably, and here she was, the unseasonable warm snap prompting her to wear shorts when she totally should have put on a pair of long pants.

  Logan watched periodically, in a supervisory capacity, but he wasn’t teaching her group anymore. It was disappointing, but she completely understood. The entire exercise had taken on a pall of underlying discontent since the department currently wasn’t whole. Captain Chavez was doing better, yet still hospitalized, and likely wouldn’t be returning to his job. He would be okay, though, and that was cause enough for celebration.

  Zane’s group had taken them in with the acknowledgment they would compete separately, much to the boys’ utter glee. Good-natured ribbing with the other group commenced.

  She liked this. The firefighters were definitely a family and, by extension, her group’s protégés. Big brothers, almost. It was nice to have people to look to for guidance about the class. Everyone was taking up the slack with the captain’s illness, and it was beautiful to witness.

  Katie scaled the ladder, not even needing the harness Logan had insisted on, with all eyes on her. It was a safety measure to keep civilians from falling off the ladder, but Katie knew all the people down there were staring at her ass framed by this harness.

  She wasn’t afraid of heights, but the eighteen-foot ladder still felt pretty flimsy as she maneuvered through the window on the side of the burn house. She knew the obstacle course at the end of this class would include suiting up, fitting couplings together, climbing the ladder, and making it through the burn house blindfolded and into the bucket truck on the other side.

  She was the slowest one on the team.

  Zane’s group was a group of boys and their fathers, who were racing up the ladders alongside Katie’s crew. They were intent on beating each other’s times as well as their own previous times, but Katie couldn’t go that fast. She wasn’t as reckless and didn’t particularly relish being yelled at.

  “You got this, Katie! Go! Go! Go!” Her brother cheered her on, and a thrill of pride soaked into her, despite her slight embarrassment.

  “Yeah, Katie!” Brant shouted. It was innocent to someone who hadn’t heard him asking her to mold him into the perfect young lover last weekend. Now, she got a serious case of oogies when he talked to her, and she felt a little bad because he was a kid who really should know better. But Katie knew the boy’s dad and could see why he didn’t. “God, your sister has a nice ass,” he said, presumably to Walter, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear, including her.

  She rolled her eyes. “I heard that, Brant! Not appropriate!” She was yelling up at the sky, where her head was
pointed, but she couldn’t let the comment slide.

  When Katie got to the top, she looked out the window and saw Logan was taking care of things. He had Brant by the shirt front and was snarling at the kid whose eyes were wide as saucers. Ryder, Walter, and the other kids were dying with laughter, doubled over and clutching their waists. The two dads of the group were trying not to look interested, probably because they should be backing up Logan in whatever he was saying. She really wished she could hear him.

  Logan was totally unamused. Whatever he was growling to Brant had the kid nodding his head frantically, followed by a shaking of his head, and then more nodding.

  Katie made to climb back down before Logan ate the kid.

  “He didn’t mean anything by it,” she huffed as she reached the ground.

  “Doesn’t matter. That’s not how a guy talks to women.” Logan looked at all the guys standing around. “None of you get to talk to a woman like that.”

  Walter spoke up in his buddy’s defense. “He didn’t actually say it to her.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s a lady. He said it about her, where she could hear it, and you should have jumped to her defense instead of cackling like an old lady.” He turned back to Brant. “What do you say?”

  “I’m sorry, Katie. I shouldn’t have said that,” he grumbled to the ground as he shifted his weight back and forth between feet.

  “Apology accepted.”

  “I don’t want to hear another word like that come out of your mouth, got it?”

  “Yessir.” Brant’s face reddened with embarrassment. Katie wasn’t sure how sorry the kid actually was, but she would take it.

  “Now, Brant’s going to go up the ladder in full bunker gear wearing a weight pack that simulates what we wear on our backs. You’re all going to have to, but because I’m an asshole, he has to do it more.” A sadistic grin flashed across Logan’s face, and Katie giggled to herself. “Three points of contact on the ladder at all times, kids. Katie’s the only one who’s been doing it right.”

  Logan turned to Katie, the sadistic grin still in place, and a batch of butterflies erupted in her belly.

  “I’m picking you up tonight,” he said under his breath. “I got a new cat this week, and I’m dying to try it on you.” He lowered his voice even more, a seductive growl that had her insides churning. “On the cross.”

  “I need to run by the shop today after class. I got a shipment and need to do something with it.” Her breath came out a hoarse whisper. The cross. She was going to use the cross.

  She’d dreamed of that thing.

  But her Christmas decorations and new inventory were in, and she needed to get them ready for the Thanksgiving reveal. Black Friday was when she took the wrapping paper off her display, and a few people in town counted on the downtown’s displays to get them in the holiday spirit. It was still a month away, but she couldn’t put it off. The stress of waiting until the last minute wasn’t worth it to her.

  Besides, she was too excited about it.

  “Okay. After that. I made a reservation at The Lodge.” His urgently lowered voice pooled in her belly and radiated outward, making her rethink her decision. Maybe the stress would be worth it now that she had a new stress-reliever?

  Chapter Eighteen

  That night, Katie found herself strapped to the St. Andrew’s Cross in Logan’s play room. With each crack of the cat of nine tails on her skin, she relished the pain, letting him know with her hisses of air. It hurt, but it was a good pain she couldn’t explain. Something about the sting on her skin made her feel something tangible.

  He’d started slowly, warming her up after rushing her into the room as soon as they’d arrived. Katie had been a little nervous about this scene, wondering if anything would be different with their new relationship. But he’d eased her into it during dinner, pocketing her panties in his truck on the way, so she’d had to sit through dinner with no underwear on. She spent the drive watching Logan glance at her with heated looks as he slipped his hand into his pocket to remind her what he was thinking, which had made her hornier than she’d ever been without a single fucking touch.

  Logan knew pain was her drug, and he was eager to give her a fix. That was the closest she could come to explaining it to herself. But after her fix, Logan wouldn’t kick her out of his bed.

  She hoped.

  Crack.

  “Wool gathering?” Katie’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Logan’s seductive voice. He wore the same pants he’d had on earlier, his dress pants with her undies still in the pocket. Logan had taken off his shirt, presumably for maneuverability, every muscle of his abdomen and pectorals rippling and shiny with a thin sheen of sweat.

  She licked her lips, trying to come back to reality. “Sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “I must not be doing this right if you’re thinking about something else.” He drew his arm back and let fly with the hardest smack he’d given her so far.

  Across her tits. God, that hurt so good.

  Her nipples were bright-red, stiff peaks of pain, shooting rockets of sensation to her core. She’d clench her thighs together, but they were strapped to the cross.

  Another crack filled the air. Again. Another stain of pain spilling across her skin.

  Her hisses had turned to moans as she fought off the sensations, wanting more. Needing more.

  This position, strapped with her arms and legs splayed, should have made her feel vulnerable. Instead, it made her feel powerful. The power she held was reflected in Logan’s eyes as he devoured her with his gaze, seeking out the next spot to inflict pain.

  Delicious pain.

  His brows were furrowed in concentration. His dick was hard in his pants. He stalked around her, arm raised before lowering it on her abdomen directly above the mound of curls.

  Katie licked her lips, eager for more yet not wanting to say anything to destroy it. The pain made her forget her shop, her brother, her parents—all of it. All she could think of was Logan and the mouthwatering pleasure.

  Inhaling deeply, it was time. Katie made the conscious decision to let go. She exhaled as she got rid of the compulsion to fight the pain. After all, it was human nature to react to pain. But as she exhaled, her eyes fell closed and she accepted it.

  Logan saw when it happened. Her pulse slowed, and her eyes glazed over right before closing.

  “Fucking beautiful.”

  Her utter submission. She was submitting to him. Every whack of the whip across her skin evoked a smooth hiss of pleasure from her now instead of the ragged ones earlier where she was trying not to cry out.

  This was why he did this. As he walked around Katherine, watching her, hurting her—a tweak of her nipples here, a smack of his cat there—he lowered his head between her legs and bit her clit.

  She shuddered, and a low moan escaped her as she climaxed.

  It was done.

  Logan unfastened her bindings and carried her to his room. Her lovely porcelain skin was red from his toy, and she was sweaty and pliable as he lowered her to his bed before covering her with his body.

  “So beautiful.” He was repeating himself but didn’t care. She was in subspace and probably not hearing him anyway.

  Sinking over her body, which was still reacting to his, he relished Katherine’s warmth. She still tremored and shuddered from her climax. Or in reaction to him. He didn’t know, but his cock was standing up straight, straining to be inside her, and he was about to oblige.

  But he wanted it to be different this time. He wanted things to be slower, more intentional than just a quick fuck.

  She deserved this.

  Katherine’s eyes were open, but she wasn’t seeing everything. He kissed her slowly, trying to bring her back. He was going to actually make love to her and needed her to be present for it
.

  Molding his lips to hers, Logan pressed his tongue inside her mouth as he caged her against the bed with his arms. He was trying not to smother her, but his pelvis had other ideas. He’d let it do its thing, but he needed to do this his way.

  She tasted amazing, her hot little mouth doing things to him he didn’t know were possible, making his insides swell to bursting. When she finally whimpered into his mouth, a small sucking motion came from her, Logan gripped her face, using his elbows to hold himself up, and her arms came to his shoulders, clutching him tightly.

  There she is.

  He was still rubbing his hips against hers, desperate to get inside her, and now that she was with him, he used his feet to remove his pants. It wasn’t easy, but she soon realized what he was doing and helped him, pushing his waistband down with her hands.

  Logan moved his mouth down to her neck to get his dick away from her pussy for a bit. He didn’t want this to go too fast, and if it his cock had a say in the matter, he’d be buried inside her, pounding away. But he’d already done that with her.

  He licked and sucked the sweat from her skin, relishing the salty tanginess he’d created when she was on the cross. He soothed the red marks on her skin, cooling the heat on her collarbone. Then he moved to her breasts, feeling the plumpness before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. He listened to her moans turn to groans, getting louder as she writhed under him.

  God, he loved how reactive her breasts were. She was into nipple play. He wondered if he could make her come like this, but that would be a challenge for another time.

  He dipped his fingers inside her, feeling her arousal as he scissored them. Forcing some semblance of restraint into himself, he kissed his way down her heaving stomach, stopping to swirl his tongue around her belly button before sucking on it.

  Beautiful. She was so fucking gorgeous he couldn’t stand it. With everything happening with Captain Chavez, the fragility of life had really hit Logan hard. And right now, in his bed with Katie, Logan could think of nothing better than joining his body with hers to make everything right again. It would strengthen both of them. That was a dumb thought for a guy to have, but it was all that was filtering into his brain at this moment in time. All the things that could have been without his stupid fucking rule.