Page 31 of Consuming Logan

Chapter 10

OMG, making love under a sunlit sky should be on the Top 10 list of things to do while pregnant. Her face had to be aflame. The images of her riding him, the harsh staccato of their breathing, the rocking motion of the chair beneath their combined weight played on a continuous loop in her brain. The idea of laying bare, with the sun and air caressing her body, while Logan pleasured her had been one of her secret fantasies. She never imagined her overprotective man would risk discovery. Ava fanned her face with one hand, sure her cheeks were aflame. Ava’s body still tingled with the electricity of Logan’s touch. The skillful way he coaxed her body to multiple releases with the use of one hand, she would have sworn her fiancé was ambidextrous. Allowing Logan to accompany her to the Second Chance House was an utter and complete distraction. He removed his sunglasses, sliding the arm of the glasses into the “v” of his button-down shirt. A little dusting of blond chest hair came into view and Ava’s mouth watered. Gosh, even with his arm in a sling, he carried himself with a masculine confidence. His ruddy locks were damp, and his beard could use a trim. He’d ditched the business white dress shirt, for a casual blue button down with the sleeves rolled up at the elbows, a pair of well-worn jeans, and old work boots he usually wore when mowing the grass. The man was Mr. Goodbar, Almond Joy, and a Sugar Daddy all wrapped up into one delicious sculpted piece of —

“How long do we have to stay? Exactly.” Logan whispered into her ear.

That happened to be the second time he’d asked Ava the same question in the past sixty seconds. The facility, an old Victorian divided into quarters for a myriad of functions, was a cross between a women’s shelter and a private community center.

He pushed his still hard erection into the cleft of her derriere. Ava’s body trembled with growing awareness. She bit the inside of her lip, quelling a whimper.

“I have to stay until I’m done helping the kids. The moms get to enjoy a little me time, knowing their children are safe with the volunteers.” Having found the courage to escape abusive and neglectful circumstances, the Second Chance House residents sought a new beginning. Ava could relate.

“What if I’m not done with you,” he rasped, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

The temptation to disappear in the art supply room was there, but Ava couldn’t neglect her commitment to these women or their children. Once upon a time, she had been more fool-hearted than focused. She’d chosen the wrong man. Though she never carried Marcus’s child, she bore the scars he’d inflicted on her self-worth. The emotional abuse had been insidious. An eighteen-year-old, Ava lacked the maturity and experience to free herself from his grips before the physical abuse began. At the time she’d questioned what she’d done wrong. Thanks to the counselors on staff she’d learn to place the blame where it belonged… with Marcus. For years after the relationship, Ava had doubted her judgement, doubted that a man could love her without criticism. The counselors at the Second Chance House had helped her. Logan had healed her.

“Today is arts and crafts day for the boys and girls. You should pair up with one of the younger boys?” She patted his chest, then leaned in close to whisper. “Maybe, you’ll expend some excess energy on the paper cut-outs.”

“I’m saving that for you, sweetheart,” he said, before strolling away.

Ava watched Logan stand back while the other volunteers paired with the school-age kids in the Helping Hands program. When she gave him a ‘get in there’ look, he actually grimaced.

“What?” he asked with a furrowed brow. “I’m a surgeon; not an artist. I sucked at art.”

Ava gave her man a gentle push. “You’re also brilliant,” she teased. “I’m sure you can find a couple of construction paper squares to cut and staple back together.”

She could tell the idea of playtime with an actual healthy child had knocked him for a loop. She understood. For a woman without a child of her own, the first few years were intimidating, but Lina, Janna, and Rebecca Lynn had been there to guide her. Her three best friends had volunteered at the House to some degree since their college years.

“You’re laughing at me,” he pouted.

“With you, baby,” she corrected. “I’m laughing with you.”

A jar clattered against one of the eight rectangular tables; a tower of different sized paint brushes went scattering to the floor.

Ava jumped to her feet. “Oh, I should help with that.”

Logan curled his fingers around her forearm. “Careful, sweetheart.” He leveled her with a concerned gaze. “Don’t cut yourself handling the glass. How long before we vacate this danger zone?”

“We usually wrap up in a few hours.”

He took in her wanton stare. “You look hungry. Quantify a few.”

Biting her lip, she said, “Three hours.”

Logan muttered under his breath.

Ava noted Logan’s scowl had returned. “Play nice, big boy,” she whispered. “One day our son or daughter will be on the receiving end of a very nice volunteer couple.”

Logan swept her up in his arms. “Oh,” she yelped in surprise.

“Three hours and we’re going home for hot butt naked sex.”

Olivia Tan, the lead volunteer coordinator shot Logan a warning glower, and Ava winced.

“We’ve got to work on your inside voice,” Ava swallowed. “Cold and butt naked works too.”

He laughed.

“Hey, you two lovebirds.” Olivia smiled. “Little people are watching.”