Reaching for the Moon by ThePekingNoodle

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Chapter Eighty: In the Mood

In which things become a bit clearer to our heroine even as new complications arise…

Logan was silent on the way up to the penthouse, and Max found herself wondering what was on his mind. When they were inside, instead of heading straight to check his email as was his norm, he took her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom.

"Logan?" she started to question him, but he put a finger to her lips, silencing her. He led her straight through the bedroom into the master bath, where he finally dropped her hand. Max watched as he went to the oversized tub and turned on the water, letting it start to fill.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like a long hot soak." he finally said with a smile. "Join me?" He pulled off his sweater and tossed it in the direction of the hamper.

Max smiled as she followed suit. "Sounds wonderful."

The tub filled quickly, and by the time both were undressed it was ready. Logan reached over and turned on the jets and the water began to softly foam as they kicked in. He stepped into the tub and settled himself back against the padded backrest. "Coming?"

He held out a hand and Max took it as she stepped into the hot, bubbling water. It felt like heaven to her tired muscles, and she sank into it gratefully. Logan tugged on her hand and pulled her over so that she was seated in front of him, his long legs stretched out on either side of her.

Max sighed as she leaned back against his chest and let herself relax completely. "How did you know that I needed this?"

"Because I knew that I did." Logan answered simply.

Max didn't answer, content to rest against him and let the hot water work its magic. Logan's arms were looped loosely around her waist and she could hear his heart thumping softly in his chest as she rested her head back on his shoulder.  The two stayed that way for a long while, neither one feeling a need for words.

Eventually Logan leaned over, and picked up a soft sponge from the shelf next to the tub. He soaked it in the water and then squeezed body wash onto it from a tube. Max inhaled the spicy fragrance with pleasure. "Sit forward," Logan instructed her and she obeyed. He began to run the sponge gently over her back and shoulders, using one hand to lift her long hair out of his way. After a moment, Max reached back and gathered her thick hair in her hands, then twisted it into a loose knot on top of her head, out of Logan's way.  Logan put down the sponge and gently massaged her back, working the tension out of her muscles with strong strokes.

"That feels wonderful." Max sighed.

When he finished her back, Logan picked up the sponge again and ran it gently over her arms, following it again with a gentle massage.  "Turn around and sit facing me," he instructed.

Max complied and now it was her legs turn for a wash, and then a massage, to work out the stiffness and tension. Finally, he gently washed from her neck down to her hips. His touch was sensual rather than sexual, designed to relax rather than arouse, and when he was finished she felt relaxed and boneless.

Max smiled at him in contentment as he sat back on his heels and she relaxed back against the side of the tub. "Where did you learn to do that?" she asked him curiously.

"I dated a masseuse for a while. She taught me a few things," he said with a grin.

He put the sponge down and leaned back into the hot water once again.

He's giving you that look again. The one from the garage tonight. The one that makes your insides go all soft and mushy. What's going on?

She looks so beautiful all relaxed and content. I want to keep her that way.

Suddenly Max sat up. "My turn." She reached for the sponge but Logan pulled it away.

"Nope. Tonight I get to take care of you. Duck your head under the water. Your hair needs to be washed."

Max hesitated and then complied. When she came back up, Logan nodded for her to sit back in front of him. When she was settled, he poured some of the shampoo she used into his hands and began to gently massage it through her hair. He could have sworn he heard her purring as he massaged her scalp.

"Okay rinse." He waited until she finished and then gave her a gentle push. "Why don't you dry off while I do a quick wash up?"

Max smiled at him and leaned in to give him a quick kiss before she climbed out of the tub. She wrapped herself in one of the thick towels Logan had put out for them before they climbed in, and went over to the vanity to comb the tangles out of her hair. She watched Logan in the mirror as she combed it out and used his blow dryer. By the time she was finished, Logan was out of the tub and had dried off and donned a terry robe. He held one out for her, and she dropped the towel and let him slip the thick soft robe on her. Then she turned to face him.

"What's next on the agenda?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired." he said.  He reached up to brush a piece of her hair out of her eyes, and she noticed a nasty scrape on his knuckles.

Max frowned and grabbed his hand.   "Logan, you need to take care of this." Not giving him a chance to protest she pulled him over to the vanity. She opened a drawer and came up with a tube of ointment. "Give me your hand." Logan let her take his hand and gently smooth the ointment onto his scraped knuckles. "Let me see the other one," she demanded when she finished.

"It's fine." But he let her take his hand and look. Satisfied that he had no other scrapes or bruises that needed doctoring, Max put down the tube and let him pull her along into the bedroom.  He pulled down the bed clothes and then stood back. Max dropped her robe and climbed into the bed.  Logan moved around the room lighting candles, and then turned off the light. He shed his own robe and climbed in next to her, pulling the covers up over the two of them.  Then he pulled Max into his arms and cuddled her close, relaxing back against the pillows. Max murmured contentedly as she rested against him.

The two dozed. When Max woke up the candles had gone out except for one lone one that flickered feebly in its glass. She glanced at Logan, and realized that he was awake as well.  Without a word he leaned in and kissed her, his lips moving leisurely over hers. Max relaxed into his kiss lacing her arms around his neck. They kissed for what seemed like hours.  Without her realizing it, Logan segued from kissing into making slow, sensual love to her. It was the complete opposite of their earlier session on the bike which had been hot and fast and rough. This time it was slow and drawn out, but no less passionate or intense. If anything the intensity was heightened by the pace. Logan held back until Max finally came with a soft cry of his name, and then he let himself find his own release. Max curled into his arms when they finished and he stroked her hair gently as she lay there. When he was sure she was sleeping, he dropped a kiss on her forehead and unable to stop himself, he once more whispered, "I love you."

Why don't you just say it to her when she's awake, already?

Because I'm not sure she's ready to hear it. 

You're afraid you mean. Coward.

Maybe.

You need to tell her. Soon.

I will. When the time is right.

Just be careful you don't let it go too long.

Logan clamped down on his inner debate and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax and let sleep overtake him. Unknown to him, Max lay there with her eyes closed as if in sleep, smiling happily to herself.

He did say it before.

So what are you going to do? Let him know you heard it this time?

If he wanted me to know, he wouldn't have said it when he thought I was asleep.

So you aren't going to let him know you heard.

I don't know. I want him to say it to me knowing I'm listening. Is that too much to ask?

Men are funny that way. Sometimes a female has to take things in hand. Don't let it go too long.

Max forced herself to sleep, letting Logan's words wash over her as she replayed them over and over in her mind.

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When she woke up in the morning, the bed was empty. She reached over and grabbed her robe and pulled it on when she climbed out.  After a quick trip to wash up, she wandered out into the apartment following the sound of Logan's keyboard to his computer room.

Logan was seated at his computer, wearing his robe. A grim look was on his face.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

He turned to look at her. "The Colonel knows we're back in Seattle, and he says he's ready for me to start."

"That isn't enough to put that look on your face."

"He's tracked Zack. He sent me a location in Portland and he wants me to confirm it. Then he plans on moving in on him."

Max stared at him in consternation.

End of Chapter Eighty…TBC…