Forever Logan by Elena Matthews (best fiction novels .txt) 📗

off me, and my now-half-mast cock wakes the fuck up again as I watch my cum drip from her pussy and onto my thigh.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” I utter, completely mesmerized at my essence seeping out of her pussy.

Today is the first time I’ve ever gone bare with a woman, and seeing the aftermath, well, it brings out the caveman in me.

Ally squeals as I push her onto her back, and I crawl between her legs.

“Logan,” she gasps as I enter her again.

“If you were planning on getting any sleep, you’d better reschedule ’cause I have other plans,” I drawl out.

I slam my lips to hers before fucking her all night long.

I startle awake as the bed around me begins to shake. Squinting my eyes through the darkness, I glance to Ally sleeping beside me to see she’s thrashing side to side, whimpering in her sleep. Inching closer to her, I gently stroke her cheek.

“Ally, baby…wake up,” I whisper, trying to rouse her.

Her cries grow louder, her whimpering now audible. “No, please…don’t hurt her. Please…no, no!”

She seems frantic, and I shake her shoulders to get her to wake up.

“Ally, you’re dreaming. Wake up,” I say more sternly.

An instant later, she shoots up out of bed, knocking the shit out of my head.

“Fuck!” I groan out as a crack of pain shoots across my skull, cradling my head with my hands.

“Logan?” she asks with confusion, her breaths coming out hard and fast.

“Hey…” I say before reaching for the sidelight.

We both squint at the sharp, harsh light. A few seconds later, my eyes begin to adjust to the lack of darkness.

She glances at me with creased brows, her breathing still heavy. “Was I dreaming?”

“Well, it was more like a nightmare.” I rub at the spot where my forehead throbs. Jesus, my girl knows how to throw one hell of a head-butt even if it was by accident.

“Shit,” she curses, rubbing her hands over her tear-covered cheeks.

“You okay?” I ask as I push her matted hair away from her face.

She lets out an exhale as she looks at me, raising her hand to my head.

“Are you okay?” She turns the question around on me. “I just head-butted you.”

I shrug my shoulders with a shake of my head, exaggerating my pain intolerance. “You barely got me. You just caught me by surprise.”

She cocks her head to the side, showing her skepticism with a roll of her eyes. “You’re such a terrible liar.”

I can’t keep the laugh from escaping. “You got me. You almost knocked me out, but it’ll teach me not to get so close while you’re having a nightmare.”

Though I made a joke, I instantly grow serious again.

“What was your nightmare about?” I ask, concerned.

She seems to hesitate for a moment, before shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she tells me as she whips the sheets from her body and gets out of bed.

I don’t take my eyes from her as she pads over to the sink. She grabs a glass from the side and turns the faucet on, filling it up. She has her back to me as I hear her take several sips. I don’t approach her, not wanting to spook her after what seemed like a traumatic dream. I just give her a moment of space.

After a couple of minutes, her voice almost jolts me as she speaks with her back still to me, such a distinct contrast to the silence, “I was there again, the fire…the second one. It was like it was happening all over again. Remi was handcuffed to the radiator while I was trying to focus through my double vision after that asshole clocked me with his gun. I can still smell the gasoline now, like it was singed to my sinuses. It was so strong, so close, I was practically sitting in it. I was too slow to react, and then the next thing, the room became too hot, the flames were rapidly closing in. Then…I woke up.”

She lets out a trembling breath, and moments later, her shoulders begin to shake up and down. Immediately, I’m up on my feet, making my way toward her. As if sensing me approach, she gravitates toward me, and I pull her into my thick arms. She buries her face into my naked chest, and cries rack through her body.

Stroking my fingers through the soft tendrils of her hair, I rest my lips against the top of her head, keeping her close to me. Her muffled sobs vibrate against my skin.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything happen to you,” I whisper into her hair.

She squeezes me even tighter as her sobs become more violent. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her back to the bed. She keeps her latch on me tight as I lie down on my back, keeping her close to my body. And for a while, she just cries into my chest as my fingers caress up and down her back, not just to comfort her, but also because it feels right.

Shortly later, her tears subside, and we grow into a comfortable silence. Tingles erupt up and down my body as she circles a finger along my chest. As I glance down to her, I see she’s tracing her fingertip along my bullet scar from the same fire she had a nightmare about.

“How were you able to go to work so soon?” she asks, her eyes never straying from my war wound.

“I’ve always just bounced back from these things quickly.”

“But you were almost killed. How can you be okay with that?”

“I’m not, but it’s the risk I took when I became a police officer. But that day was different. It involved three very important people to me. I didn’t enter that burning building just because I was a cop or because I was the best person for the job. I ran in there because not only was my brother’s entire world inside, but so