CHAPTER 4: Wrong Motel, Right Stranger

Amelia's POV

The biggest one, a real meathead with knuckles that dragged on the ground, grabbed me from behind. His arm was like a steel bar across my chest, squeezing the air right out of me. I let out a gasp that was more squeak than scream.

“Logan!” I choked out.

But Logan was already moving. He didn’t tense up like a normal person would. He just… shifted. It was this subtle drop of his shoulders, a quiet sigh like he was annoyed he had to take out the trash. The two other creeps lunged for him.

Logan moved faster than anything I’d ever seen. He ducked under a swing that should have taken his head off, came up inside the guy’s guard and drove his fist into the dude’s ribs. 

I heard a sickening crack. The werewolf...yeah, no doubt now...yelped and went down hard, not getting up.

The second one came at him with claws out and Logan caught his wrist, twisted it with another awful crunch and slammed his elbow into the guy’s face. He dropped like a sack of rocks.

It took all of three seconds.

Then those calm, intense eyes locked onto the guy holding me. The big guy’s grip loosened. I could feel him trembling.

Logan took one step forward and that was all it took. The guy shoved me away so hard I stumbled, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Logan closed the distance and hit him once, clean and efficient so quickly. The guy’s eyes rolled back, and he joined his buddies on the pavement.

I stood there, shaking, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. 

Logan stood over the bodies, not even winded. He knelt down, his hands quickly patting down their pockets. He pulled something small and dark from one of them...a wallet? A badge?...and tucked it into his own jacket before I could get a good look.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, my voice shaky. “Who the hell were they? And who the hell are you?”

He finally looked at me, his expression unreadable. 

“Just some low-life street rogues. Nothing to worry about now.”

“Low-life street rogues?” I choked out a laugh. “They looked like professional monster muscle to me! And they knew you!”

“They thought they did,” he said, his voice low and steady. He walked over to me, his presence immediately making the scary, dark street feel a little safer. “Come on. The motel’s just there. Let’s get you inside.”

My brain was screaming questions but my body was just screaming, full stop. And part of that screaming was… something else. Something I hadn’t felt in years. 

Watching him move like that, all that quiet power and control… it did things to me. Stupid, reckless, horny things. The rebellion, the fear, the raw adrenaline...it all mixed together into one potent cocktail that was way stronger than “The Regret.”

We got to his room and he locked the door behind us and turned, about to say something.

I didn’t let him.

All that pent-up everything exploded. I grabbed the front of his jacket, stood on my toes and crushed my mouth to his.

He froze.. completely rigid. Not kissing me back, not pushing me away.. just a statue.

Oh, god. Shame washed over me, cold and horrible. I pulled back, my face flaming.

“Shit. Logan, I am so sorry. That was so stupid. I don’t know what I was...”

His hand came up and cupped the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He didn’t say a word. He just looked into my eyes for a heartbeat, his gaze dark and hungry and then he pulled me back in.

This kiss wwas deep and possessive and so fucking skilled my knees actually buckled. 

His other arm slid around my waist, holding me up against him. One of his hands found my breast, cupping it through my shirt, his thumb brushing over my nipple until it was a hard peak and a moan ripped from my throat directly into his mouth.

That was all the permission we needed.

IButtons flew.. my shirt was gone and his jacket hit the floor as I pushed him back onto the bed and yanked his t-shirt over his head.

And oh, sweet mercy.

His chest was a work of art.. all hard planes of muscle, covered in intricate black tattoos that coiled over his shoulders and down his arms. 

I ran my hands over them, feeling the powerful heat of his skin. I was so wet it was embarrassing.

I made quick work of his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down in one go and his cock sprang free so thick and hard and… wow. Just, wow. I didn’t hesitate. I dropped to my knees beside the bed and took him into my mouth.

He groaned a in a gritty sound that vibrated through me. His hands fisted in my hair, not pushing.. just holding on as I worshipped his dick. 

I licked and sucked, taking his cock as deep as I could, using my tongue in ways I’d only read about. I wanted to blow his mind the way he’d blown up my entire world.

“Fuck..,” he growled, his voice strained.

Before I could finish, he moved and in a flash, he had me on the bed, my pants and panties stripped away. He hovered over me for a second, his eyes drinking me in, before flipping us into a 69.

His mouth on me was… fuck. It was like he’d invented the concept!

His tongue was a devil, licking and thrusting and circling my clit until I was shaking, my own ministrations on him becoming sloppy and unfocused. 

I came with a sharp cry, my vision whiting out as he lapped at me, drawing out every last shudder.

But he wasn’t done. He flipped me onto my back, settling between my legs. I could feel the head of his cock pressing against me, ready to pierce my soaking wet pussy.

“Wait,” I panted, pushing at his chest. “I want to be on top.”

A slow, sexy smile touched his lips. He rolled onto his back, letting me take control. I straddled his hips, guiding him inside me. He filled me up, stretching me perfectly. 

I rode him, slow at first, then faster, my hands braced on his tattooed chest. He gripped my hips, his thumbs digging in as he met my thrusts.

“You feel so good,” I moaned, my head falling back.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough.

I did. His eyes were locked on mine with the connection intensel. He sat up, wrapping his arms around me, and began to fuck me upwards, driving deeper.

“Oh, god, right there!” I cried out, shattering around him again.

We fell back onto the mattress. He slid out of me only long enough to turn me onto my hands and knees. 

He entered me from behind, one hand on my hip, the other tangling in my hair. This angle was deeper, more animalistic.

“You take me so well,” he rasped, pounding into me.

“Fuck, Logan, don’t stop!”

I came a third time, screaming into the motel pillow.

He wasn’t far behind. He flipped me onto my back one last time, driving into me with a final, powerful rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as we both hurtled over the edge.

“Amelia!” he roared as he came, pulsing inside me, filling me with his release.

I climaxed one last time with him with a squirting, shaking, mind-blanking wave of pleasure that left me completely boneless.

We collapsed in a sweaty, breathless heap on the destroyed bed. 

I don’t know how long we lay there. My entire body was humming. That was, without a single doubt, the greatest sex of my entire life.

After a long while, he kissed my shoulder and got up. I watched his naked, perfect ass walk into the bathroom. The man was a goddamn masterpiece!

And that’s when the idea hit me.. a stupid, dangerous idea.

The things he took from those werewolves.

I slid out of bed, my legs still wobbly and tiptoed to where his jacket lay on the floor. I patted the pockets, my heart starting to pound again as my fingers closed around cold, laminated plastic.

I pulled out two IDs. The first one was from the meathead who grabbed me. I squinted at it in the dim light.

Security Division. Ashford Industries.

My blood ran cold. Damian’s security? Why were his guys attacking us? Were they after me?

Confused, I looked at the second ID. It was Logan’s. Or, it was supposed to be.

But the name wasn’t Logan..!

The photo was him, looking all serious and handsome.. but the name underneath…

Lucas Ashford.

My breath hitched. No. No way.

Ashford. Damian’s last name. And Lucas… Damian’s estranged brother…?! The one who supposedly left the family years ago according to the stories. The one Damian never shut up about hating..!

I was holding his brother’s ID. Which meant…

“Find what you were looking for?”

The voice, cold and flat, came from the bathroom doorway and I yelped, dropping the IDs like they were on fire. .

I spun around and there hee was, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over that magnificent chest, watching me with a blank expression.

Shit!