Page 7 of My Cowboy Salvation
There’s a dark blue accent wall and a massive king-sized bed that dominate the space, and I know for a fact, having already sat on it for the barest minute yesterday, that his dark blue cover is sinfully soft and hosts a plush duvet that must make sinking into the bed a forbidden delight.
Okay, maybe just forbidden for me.
I feel only a mild sense of guilt for being in here and invading his space since Logan told me that first morning to have my run of the place, with the exception of a locked room in the basement I’m still a little curious about. I’ve conjured up everything from images of a sex dungeon, a closet filled with board games, to an actual dungeon filled with hacked up pieces of people for that mystery space, and I wonder if I’ll ever figure out what’s inside before I leave.
The time blinks at me from his nightstand, reminding me I probably have hours alone before Logan gets back. Of course, I know what I’d like to do. Take a bath in the giant tub in his en suite bathroom. A massive tub with jets that has an incredible view of the scene I was admiring moments before instead of the tiny, basic tub and shower combo in the guest bathroom.
Stepping into the white-tiled room, I study the tub again. I washed it yesterday until it was gleaming, even though I didn’t see any signs of ever being used. Until now. After all, he did say I had access to everything.
Decision made, my body tingles in anticipation of sinking into the big tub and soaking my muscles. It’s one of the many things I have missed from my old life—long, relaxing baths. I run the water, wishing I had some bath oil or something other than the tiny bottle of generic body wash I grabbed on my last trip to Walmart in Salt Lake. I look forward to the day when I’ll have the funds to buy my favorite products from Kiehl’s, along with a decent brand of conditioner and some new non-boring, non-white cotton underpants.
Looking to the shower, I spot a bottle of body wash. Opening the lid, I inhale a delectable scent that’s much like the pine and cedar in Logan’s room. On a whim, I pour some into the tub and, with the water still running, I slip off my clothes and climb inside, too impatient for the tub to fill.
I breathe a loud sigh of relief as I sink into the hot water that feels so incredibly decadent and comforting, having spent the past few weeks standing under the low-powered spray of cheap motel showerheads. Almost purring with satisfaction, I lean back, enjoying the water as it slowly rises higher against my naked body.
Whether from the heady scent of Logan that surrounds me or the fact it’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed the sensation of just feeling pleasure without fear, my fingers find their way down my breasts and belly, to the aching heat between my legs that’s yearned to be touched since Logan McCall returned to my orbit.
I find my clit and stroke the sensitive bud, lifting my hips higher with each caress as I imagine someone else’s fingers here—someone with deep blue eyes and a light scruff on his jawline that matches the sandy brown thickness of his hair.
Logan would never hurt me. He would protect me from anything and anyone.
I increase the motion, moaning softly as I feel myself getting closer to reaching a satisfying end, an end that I want to savor as—
Suddenly the door swings open so quickly that I can’t squelch the scream that rips from my throat, even as, a second later, I recognize the man standing there, his eyes wide in panic, then relief, then something else entirely as he realizes I’m naked in his tub.
Neither of us speaks as we stare at each other. The only sound in the room is the water running from the faucet. For a minute, I wish real life could play out like one of my fantasies, and I had the courage to continue rubbing my clit, letting my eyes lower in pleasure as I watch him watching me before I invite him to slip off his own clothes and climb inside to join me. I would lather my hands with his body wash and slowly run it over his hard body until I reached his dick that would, of course, be hard and pulsing with need for me…
But this isn’t a porno, this is real life, so instead I squeeze my thighs together and raise a hand to cover my breasts, as any modest young woman should do.
“Shit. Dylan. I’m-I’m sorry,” he says, running his hand over his stubbled jaw. Suddenly, as if realizing he’s still staring at me, he whips around so I’m staring at his back. “I got home and called out, but you didn’t answer. When I didn’t get a response, my mind jumped to some dangerous scenarios. I thought you might be in trouble, which is the only reason I burst in here.”
My face is undoubtedly red and flushed with mortification, and I work to keep my voice even and not like that of a guilty teenager caught masturbating. “Sorry. I guess I couldn’t hear you over the water,” I say lamely and reach out to turn off the stream. The room grows quiet, save for the drips from the faucet.
Logan nods, still not turning around. “I’ll leave you alone,” he says and takes a few steps out, bringing the door behind him. He pauses just before it shuts. “Have you eaten yet? I was going to order a pizza.”
Probably best to pretend he didn’t catch me red-handed. After all, he might not have seen anything or realized what he was seeing in the space of time it took me to recover.
I clear my throat. “Pizza sounds good.”
“Any preference?”
“Anything but onions or anchovies.”
“Got it. Okay. See you when you’re done.”
Then the door shuts, and I’m left, sadly enough, alone.
Chapter 5
Logan
My God.
The image of Dylan’s flushed face, her pert breasts naked and glistening as beads of water clung to her, her mouth open in a long sigh of pleasure as she touched herself in my bathtub is going to stay with me until the day I die.
I blame Ann, my assistant at the station. She’s been nagging me for months to get a better work/life balance, and tonight was no different.
Ever since I arrived in Castle Falls nearly two years ago, I’ve been busting my ass proving to the town and the doubters that I’m more than competent at this chief of police job, even if I wasn’t native to the town or even Montana. The only reason I got the job was because Horace McCullough—whose stepson is an old Army buddy of mine—put his name on the line for me.