Chapter 9

LOGAN

“Turn off the lights,” Maggie whispers to me.

“I want to see you.”

“I much prefer if it’s in the dark,” she argues.

If that’s what she wants, I guess I could comply with her wishes. I’m dying to know why she wants to fuck in the dark.

“Fine.” Begrudgingly, I reach across from her and switch off the lamplight on the side table.

Was she repulsed by the idea of sleeping with a man she didn’t love? If that was the case, it couldn’t be helped. If I needed that heir, I had to make sure she got pregnant.

I unbuckle almost hurriedly while she takes time to undress. I’m a little impatient tonight, maybe because the whole thing was too fast last night, and she left my bedroom, leaving me wanting more.

***

MAGGIE

His hands move boldly over my body, his fingers tease my nipples as his mouth covers mine. He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to take his time.

Logan never kisses half-heartedly; he goes all out like he’s going to die if the kiss isn’t going to be perfection.

I love the feel of his rough hands mapping all over my skin. It’s like my body is on fire, not to mention the way he takes control of everything.

“Just to give you a heads up,” he says as he places hot kisses between my breasts. “I’m a little different in the bedroom. You might not see this side of me outside of here. Would you be okay with that, Maggie?”

I nod, and then realize he can’t see me nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine…”

“I can be cold to people, but I’m not really like that.”

“I think I know you better than anyone else.”

He chuckles and it reminds me of dark chocolate. I never noticed before, but he’s still wearing a shirt. It’s white, and it’s open. Other than that, he’s completely naked.

It’s dark, but I can see the outline of his cock pointing toward me.

He grabs my breasts with both his hands, “Love these tits. I’ve always wondered what they felt like.” He tweaks the darkened buds, making me whimper.

I’m breathing hard, and there’s moisture pooling between my legs. He takes one breast in his mouth and sucks. There’s just the sound of my breathing that fills the room.

He hasn’t even touched me there yet, but I feel like I’m close. He moves between my legs, and I feel the roughness of his stubble brushing against my skin.

The first wet slide of his tongue against my folds is all I need. I’m moaning into the dark, clenching the silky strands of his hair in my fist.

“Oh god, Logan. Please…”

The onslaught of his tongue doesn’t stop; he takes his time licking every inch of me, his teeth grazing my sensitive clitoris.

He’s so good at this; he puts Chase’s father to shame.

Gosh, why am I even thinking of that asshole right now?

“I’m…I’m going to die if you don’t do something…,” I cry.

I’m almost coming down from the wave of dizziness when the door clicks and opens wide.

Logan and I freeze. I quickly reach for the covers as Logan picks up his boxers from the floor. There’s a small figure standing at the door.

“Mommy…,” Chase cries.

“Uh…give me a second.” I have to control my breathing and compose myself before speaking again, “What is it, honey?”

“Are you going to die?” Chase asks. A sob startles us both.

“Of course not, baby. Why would you think that?” I grab my robe and slide it on. The room is pitch-black, so that’s a relief.

He’s still crying. “I was going to the bathroom when I heard you. I thought you were going to die, so I called 911.”

“You did what?!” Logan asks.

I’m already flying across the room. I grab the cellphone from his chubby hand. There’s a freakin’ dispatcher on the line.

“Hello? What’s going on there, Chase? Can you answer me? Is your mother okay?” the woman asks on the other end. “Stay on the line. The police are on the way.”

“I’m sorry. There’s a misunderstanding,” I say to the operator. “I don’t need any help.”

“Ma’am, your son called us saying that there was an emergency. He said his stepfather was trying to kill you in your bedroom.”

I give a nervous laugh, “He’s not trying to kill me. I’m extremely sorry. He just misinterpreted the situation.”

“Are you sure, ma’am? You don’t need to say anything if he’s with you. Just answer with a yes or a no, okay?”

“I’m not threatened by anybody. I just got married this weekend so my son heard some things he shouldn’t have.”

She goes silent on the other end. It takes a lot of convincing to finally end the call.

I look at Chase, who’s still crying, and try to think of a way to explain to him things that I don’t want to. I’m not angry, because it shows how much he cares and looks out for me.

“Honey, you shouldn’t have called 911.”

“But…but…I thought he was hurting you!” he argues. “Isaac has a stepfather, too, and he beats up his mother.”

“I can assure you that Logan isn’t like that.”

He sniffles. “Why did you say you were going to die?” He hugs my waist tightly, sneaking a glance at Logan, who’s sitting up in bed.

“Let’s go to bed first.”

I tuck him in, wiping his tears. “You have to always knock on my bedroom door when you come inside, okay?”

“Why?” His nose is all red, and it’s adorable.

What should I say to him? He’s too young to understand these things.

“Now that I’m married to Logan, we’re going to try to make another baby.”

Now I have his attention. “A baby?”

“Yes, a baby! You’ll be a big brother next year.”

“Will he be a boy?”

“Maybe.”

“I want a brother.”

LOGAN

It gets awkward in the morning. I wasn’t expecting it to be this bad. We can’t look each other in the eye. I find it hilarious that Chase called 911 last night, but I’m not going to embarrass Maggie twice in a row.

We slip into a routine where I wake up every morning, get to work, eat dinner with my family, do some more work, and then I hit the bed.

These past couple of days, after the incident, I haven’t slept with Maggie. In fact, I have stopped sleeping in our bedroom.

Not because I’m bothered by the thought of sleeping with my wife, but I don’t know if I can control my primal urges anymore.

I want Maggie to be comfortable with this new life, and that’s why I’m going to give her some space.

I jack off to her memory in the spare bedroom. I don’t have to try. All I have to do is imagine her soft, supple body melting under my touch.

I feel extremely guilty. She’s eighteen years younger than I am and forced to marry me because her father is bankrupt. She would have been better off married to a man closer to her age, mid- or late twenties.

She was forced to grow up faster, become a mother to a child when she was just a teen.

How did she feel when the child’s father left her alone when she most needed him?

I remember the day I found out that she was pregnant. It was at a supermarket, and she was buying a lot of desserts.

I’d been back in town for a couple of weeks and was buying a sandwich. She was right there, looking around guiltily, trying to avoid anyone she might know.

And then we came face to face, and she knew she couldn’t get past me, which is when I saw her growing stomach, and my blood ran cold. I hadn’t even realized that I’d crushed the triangle of sandwich in my hand.

As I take a walk down memory lane, I realize I might be the person who pushed her into making rash decisions.

The walls get tighter around me, the air gets thicker, and I’m not able to breathe as I remember the conversation we had years ago. Maggie might pretend that this is a fresh start, but we both know that’s not true.

Some old wounds never heal.