Secrets of the Past

by Kerri G.

Part 5

Logan paused at the doorway to the library to find her sitting in the dark staring out the window into the night.

She'd disappeared right after reading him the riot act, into her bedroom with the door locked. He'd tried the knob out of curiosity, not from any real desire to bother her. Her outburst gave him a new perspective of the situation. He'd almost forgotten he wasn't alone here.

Charlotte showed back up when dinner was on the grill. The kids were a little quiet at first in her presence, but they soon returned to their normal boisterous selves. Sitting apart from them, she'd worn a fond maternal smile as Jazz blended with his new friends.

"What do you want?" The tired voice startled him.

"Don't want nuthin'," he said.

"Just lurking in the shadows?" The clink of a glass, along with the scent of whisky, accompanied her words.

"Just seein' where ya were."

"You've seen me, now go away."

"Anyone'd think yer scared o' me." He moved up to stand behind her, drawn by the air of sparked fury still humming through her.

"I'm not afraid of you," Charlotte told him angrily, every line of her body screaming out the lie she fought to validate.

"Who scares ya then?" Logan's voice was almost tender.

She didn't respond; she didn't have to. He could smell her fear.

Her control was good, he gave her credit for that, but she couldn't hide the shudders running through her body, the haunted look in her eyes. Emotional overload, and she was fighting it every step of the way, unable to focus her attention on the anything but the immediate concern. The kid would be in here any minute to say good-bye.

Lightly, he touched her cheek with the back of his hand.

She jerked back away from him to the other side of the desk where her drink sat.

Jazz entered the library, the other students with him. They all looked from her to Logan, and back. The air fairly crackled with the tension, and they could all feel it.

"Mom? We're ready to go back." He regarded her with concern. She seemed even more fragile to him than when he arrived. He was having second thoughts, again, about leaving her here alone.

Logan marveled at her control again as she switched on her *mother* persona.

Charlotte summoned a bright smile that was nonetheless strained, and embraced her son. "I'm glad you came to visit, honey," she said, her words muffled in his shoulder. "Did you remember everything now?" She held him tightly, unconsciously positioning him as a buffer between her and Logan.

"I think so."

"And more, besides," Angelo grumbled under his breath. It had been a long day for them all.

Jubilee jabbed him with an elbow.

Jazz was the last one to gate out. He looked at Logan. "You coming?" His face shed its youthful innocence as he waited for the older man's answer.

Logan looked at Charlotte, who refused to meet his eyes. "Me an' yer ma got things to talk about."

Jazz nodded. "Mom?"

"We've got to talk, and I suppose this is as good a place as any. No witnesses. I'll call if I need help digging the hole, okay?" She made the joke, but it was humorless.

He was unable to help her, nothing could help her. She never looked like this with the others. With a flash of unexpected insight, Jazz realized his mother was alive and feeling right now. All because of Logan. A part of him hated to see it, wanted to run the man through himself.

Part of him knew she needed to be shocked back to life.

With a last hug, he was gone.

~*~*~*~*~

Left alone with Logan, she immediately exited the room. Each step she took up the stairs saw her anger rise, saw her struggle with it, fight to control it. She was losing.

Logan followed behind her. "We're gonna have to talk."

"No, we don't. There's nothing to talk about anymore. Can't you just let it go?"

"Y'don't want me to."

Of all the arrogant attitudes! "Maybe you're right," she allowed. She turned to confront him, startling him with her abrupt stop. Feather light, she touched the blunt planes of his face, feeling a tremor run through him. Logan wasn't a handsome man, he hadn't been in his younger days, either, but he'd been beautiful to her then. He was beautiful to her now.

She took a fierce satisfaction to see this crack in his demeanor, the determinedly calm mood he'd adopted over the afternoon crumbling a bit. Good. Now she didn't feel patronized, or treated like a hysterical woman who needed special handling. She was tired of the exaggerated concern he'd shown. The bastard! He didn't know her enough to care.

Charlotte leaned into him, her face close to his. Logan's breath was even and measured, but his face tightened imperceptibly. She chalked up another shabby victory for herself.

She moved closer still, her breath gentle against his mouth. He breathed her in, a tiny moan from his throat. Even better. She'd crack him, just like he was doing to her.

Softly, masking the confusion she felt roiling around inside, she touched her parted lips to his mouth, a butterfly kiss, drawing out each moment until it melted into the next. His lips moved ever so slightly, following hers when she drew back.

Logan reached out to grab her, but she stepped back, still feeling the false power. Her smile was pure taunting.

His lip curled, a growl snaking around her, then he did make contact, his hands digging into her shoulders painfully, yanking her up against his chest. "Don't wanna play wi' the big boys, darlin', ya'll get burned."

"You've already done your worst, there's nothing left for you to take from me," she sneered into his face. "It's already gone!"

The look on his face told her there was more he could take, and he knew it. She jerked back away from him and ran.

Logan growled, his eyes narrowing, as he gave chase and caught her on the stairs. She struck back at him, but he was too angry to be gentle. He jerked her over his shoulder and carried her struggling body the rest of the way into her bedroom to toss her on the large bed.

Charlotte didn't waste her time; once he released her she was scrambling over to the other side of the bed to escape what she knew would be happening, ignoring her body's clamor to stay and surrender to him. Her pride, stubborn and troublesome, wouldn't let her give herself up again.

He hit the mattress a second behind her, grabbing her by the waistband of her shorts to haul her back. She struggled, acutely aware of the strength of the body pressing her face first into the bed, his bulk pinning her down. They sank into the down comforter, the softness surrounding them, the denim of his jeans against her bare legs, the worn softness of his shirt against her back where her own rode up to expose her skin.

Logan took a secure grip on her waistband and moved to his knees to straddle her uncomfortably positioned body. She twisted her upper body as far as she could to look up at him, then she was sorry she did. There was anger in his eyes now, but it was lustful and it wasn't what she wanted. It couldn't be what she wanted.

She needed his fury.

She wildly struck out, trying to swing back and hit him, but he caught her wrist and forced it around to her back, then reached for the other one. He held her down, not unlike she'd done to him the first time, and watched her flail uselessly against his greater strength. Now he had the advantage, and he reveled it. It might've been laughable, if she wasn't so scared.

He had to laugh.

He did.

Charlotte felt a sheer hot wave of rage race through her. "You goddamn son of a bitch!" she screamed out.

"Been told that a couple times," he mocked her, still laughing. Her control was gone in her rage, she couldn't fight worth a damn without it. A little tidbit to remember for the future. He gripped her wrists tighter, leaning down towards her face shoved into the mattress. She panted hard, struggling to take in a whole breath. "Havin' a good time, darlin'?"

"Bastard!" She twisted convulsively, feeling his hands start to give a little, the skin slightly damp where he held her. She bucked up and twisted again.

Bad move. Now she felt his arousal, the thick bulge in his jeans momentarily jammed against her buttocks as she tried to fling him off.

He sucked in a quick breath. "I take it back, darlin'. Fight me all y'want."

His hands slackened, and she pulled out of his grasp. Trying to recapture her hands, he let himself go off balance, lifting his weight off her legs a bit.

Charlotte dragged herself a scant foot to the edge of the bed, clutching at it desperately to reach the night stand where one of her knives rested inside, but he hooked her shorts again and pulled her back screaming.

She kept on struggling, making it hard to hold on to her. Logan couldn't move fast enough to hold her down again, he threw his weight on her, the bulge in his pants pressing firmly into her bottom. Her fight get away offended him, and aroused the rutting urge inside the animal he held in check.

Logan jerked her upright against his kneeling body, one hard, muscled arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, the other jerking her face to the side so he could look at her.

For a long second, the whole fight took on an unreal haze. She stopped struggling and tried to breath, gulping air in between ragged, angry sobs.

Charlotte swallowed, meeting his blazing eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, to demand he release her, demand he stop tormenting her, demand --

His mouth was hard where he mauled her, his teeth sharp and painful on her neck and shoulders where he bit at her, his tongue hot, rough velvet against her skin, her lips.

She closed her eyes, hiding what tiny bit of self she had left from him. With her eyes closed, other senses came into play. The hot, sweet taste of him, the faint essence of blood, her blood, the musky scent rising from his body. She thought she could feel his heartbeat pounding against her back. His hips rocked against her buttocks.

With a half smothered scream she twisted her head away from him. "Get off me," she demanded.

Logan pulled back. Now she realized that again his hold had loosened on her, she'd kept herself in that position. Another wave of self loathing broke over her when his arms tightened even more.

She should have bitten off his tongue when she had the chance, and now it was too late. His arms felt like steel around her now; she'd sport some impressive bruises later.

Gathering her tattered control together, Charlotte forced herself to be still.

Logan felt the change in her, and didn't trust it for a second. She didn't play fair, he remembered, especially when she was at a disadvantage. He squeezed her, letting her know he was in control this time.

He held her so tightly she couldn't move her arms and torso. If he released her now, she'd fall, unable to regain her balance, not when he supported her weight against his body. She trembled violently under the emotional onslaught.

His mouth changed, becoming softer, soothing the flaming skin of her neck and shoulders, brushing along her jaw to her lips.

*Nonononononono,* she screamed out inside, anything but this. Not tenderness. She couldn't fight it, she didn't want to fight it. Her breath rushed in and out in helpless sobs. She had to fight him.

Her hips began to rock back against him uncontrollably; she hated herself even as she craved this. She'd pushed him to this, antagonized him to this point, forcing him to take her so she wouldn't have to give herself up.

Logan didn't know what she was doing or why, but he hardly cared. The wildcat in his arms had puddled down into a kitten, her face trying to nuzzle against his, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Those tears infuriated him. He choked it down, his own breath released in a long rush against her forehead, brushing tendrils of hair around her face. He didn't want to scare her any further, not really.

"It'll be okay, darlin', I won't hurt ya," he rumbled against her neck, the vibrations buzzing deliciously over her skin.

"Let me go," she whimpered, begging him, appalled at the weak little voice that came from her, "please!"

"I can't, an' y'don't want me to." He knew that in his soul, felt it in the contradictory movements of her body.

He was right, damn him, she wanted him, and she needed his anger to hold back the tide of self hatred that would follow.

He wasn't going to allow that. There was no anger in him now. Damn him again. The hatred washed over her anyway.

Logan stroked his lips over her ear and across her cheek, stretching his neck to reach her mouth. Now resigned to the inevitable, she could taste him, the mind drugging sweetness of his mouth, the softness of his tongue as it stroked hers. Beard stubble scrape against her tender skin, striking sparks against the places he'd bitten and bloodied. His hips pushing against her. Only when she heard an explosive sigh did she realize she had been holding her breath.

He swallowed her sigh, pushing his tongue against her palate to fondle the sensitive spot. His own breath was ragged and uneven, loving - craving - the taste of her. Worshipping her in the only way he knew how, telling her the only way he could, with his body.

The hand holding her head still released her to slide down her chest, pushing up under her shirt to cup and squeeze her breasts, pressing against aching peaks. At his touch, a heavy pressure settled in her lower abdomen and thighs, a shaky moan escaping into his mouth. She was on fire, burning up in his arms. There was no way she could survive this.

His hand moved lower, into the tight waistband of her denim shorts and inside her panties, the silky fabric rubbing against the back of his hand as he slid his fingers through the thick curls to stroke into her.

Her eyes lost focus, a violent shiver took her over as his fingers brought her to the very edge.

Then he let her go.

His whole body was just gone, leaving her to wavering, shaking on her knees, teetering on the brink of orgasm.

Logan didn't leave her alone there for long.

Her shirt was yanked over her head, his hands sliding around her waist to unfasten and slide her shorts off her hips. She risked a look at him, her neck craned at an impossible angle, to find his face stony, impassive, but his eyes were alive, sparking with the fury of the storm about to break over her. She welcomed the rampage.

His hands left her to unbutton his own pants and shove them down, his shirt ripping in his haste.

A clear moment of sanity broke over her through the storm clouds. She flung herself away. Her hand was actually touching the night stand when he grabbed her back, growling like the animal he was said to be, a fierce growl of frustration roaring out of his mouth.

Logan hauled her back up onto her knees, positioning himself between her legs, his hands painfully gripping her hips to raise her into position. He rammed his erection between her thighs, one long, burning thrust that forced her breath out in a shocked exhalation, the friction of the tight sheath she offered causing his head to spin. His growl changed to an animal cry suddenly cut short.

Charlotte froze, the sensation of him filling her completely taking her voice away. She couldn't breathe, the lack of oxygen making her head pound. Supporting her own weight wasn't an option, she felt herself sink further into the mattress.

One burly arm wrapped itself around her waist again, pulling her up against his chest. Her head fell back of its volition to rest on his shoulder, the sudden weight too much for her.

Her unexpected surrender calmed the animal in him a bit, while her hips rocking against his fed another hunger. Logan swallowed convulsively, his mouth against her neck, her pulse beating wildly against his lips, her body shuddering on his. He bit down on the pulse point, tasting the alien tang against his tongue as the blood seeped into the recesses of his mouth.

With his right hand he parted her, using the middle finger to touch her, stroking slowly, lightly, testing her reactions. When she gasped and pressed herself against his hand he knew he had it right.

Flashes of lightning danced inside her head, whimpers escaping from her unwillingly. She caught her breath, afraid he'd stop, afraid he wouldn't.

Now that he found what pleased her, he moved his fingertips in a small circle, thrusting into her in tandem. He rubbed her slowly, lazily, up and down, then side to side. Her heartbeat sped up, nearly leaping from her chest, the struggle to breath weighing her down, the fire he sparked with every thrust consuming her. There would be nothing left.

The coiling tension rose to drown her in air, gasping and pleading, finally demanding. Caught between his body and his hands, she had no other way to go.

The climax hit her suddenly, one shattering convulsion flinging her over the edge. Her body arched back into him, every muscle tightened unbearably, the scream pouring from her lips to echo in the large room.

Logan gritted his teeth against the urge to follow her over, waiting for her to release him. He wasn't going to end this so quickly, his passion far from sated. She'd begged for this, he was giving her what she wanted in full measure.

Charlotte came down to rest against him weakly, her breasts heaving with the effort to catch her breath. Her head lolled against his face, his lips pressed against her jaw.

"Time to turn 'round," he murmured against her ear.

She didn't react, the tremors still rippling through her.

He loosened his hold on her, to whimpered protests, and turned her to face him, moving her as he would a puppet. She felt as boneless as a rag doll in his arms. He leaned forward to suck her lip between his teeth.

Charlotte gasped weakly, winding her arms around his neck to anchor herself to this reality. His hands smoothed her back, tracing fire trails in the sweat glistening on her skin. She offered up her mouth for him to take, which he did, kissing her hotly, his tongue sliding deep to elicit more moans. His hands guided her up, and then down onto him again. This time she drank in his hoarse groan, her hands clutched in his hair.

Slowly, she began to move, up and down, stretching and rubbing herself against him, feeling his rough, hairy skin on hers, the abrasion of his skin igniting sparks in her.

His eyes blazed at her, the beautiful dark eyes she saw in her dreams, before he closed them to concentrate on the movement of her hips on his, the scent of musk heavy in the air.

Charlotte brought her hands to his face, touching the man she saw in her dreams. She ran her fingers over his lips. He opened his mouth under them and sucked them in, sliding his tongue over the tender pads, biting gently, much more gently than her neck and shoulders could attest to. Dear god, the memories this brought back.....

She pulled back without conscious thought, hesitating in her confusion.

Logan's eyes opened and narrowed into hers. He pushed her back on the bed, moving with her, grinding deep against her, driving into her, his movements becoming more elemental, more powerful. She smothered a half scream against his shoulder, her hands closing over his arms, sliding over his shoulders, down his chest, his back, his hips. Everywhere she touched him, his heat burned her, branded her. Her heart cracked inside, the icy wall around her melting in the forgotten embers that blazed to life. Painful memories were no longer held at bay; they rushed in to drown her.

He moved faster and harder, his face now open, vulnerable to her. She wanted to smash his face, make him bleed; instead, she pulled him down to cover his mouth with her own. He licked at her lips until he couldn't focus, then buried his face in her neck. His body shuddered into climax, his eyes closed, arching into her warmth, taking her with him. The tremors flowed up her spine, spreading through her body like cresting waves, another scream finding it way between her teeth to join his trembling roar.

He fell back down slowly, lying heavily on her, his head pillowed on her breast. His breath fanned out over her skin, goose bumps following in the wake.

Without a word, he rolled to his side, withdrawing slowly from her, the sensation wringing an involuntary gasp from her. Pulling a blanket from the across the foot of the bed, he nestled her against his side, covering them with the soft warmth. Her eyes shut, an exhausted sigh the last thing he heard from her before he dropped off to sleep.

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