“About last night . . .”
Of course it was about last night. What did I think it would be about? “Yeah?”
“I was going to fuck you,” he states firmly.
“And? I was going to fuck you.”
“Then we didn’t.”
“Well Ash being a cockblocker is nothing new. Once, in high school, Mom and Dad were away and I brought this guy home. I swear Ash had his radar on because he clung to me like a bad smell.”
Logan’s grin disappears, his muscles tightening with a pinched expression. If I didn’t know better, he looked jealous. I wanted to laugh . . . how could he be jealous of something that happened in high school?
“Wait . . . are you jealous? You know jealously looks nice on you,” I tell him playfully.
“Stop with the word nice.”
“Fine, but you’re jealous. Just admit it.” I poke at his chest, an excuse to touch him.
“I’m jealous that other men get to touch you but I don’t.”
I stand perfectly still, heart racing followed by quick breaths. His stare is persistent, making it hard for me to think straight. The green is his eyes made it hard to notice anything else but this hard stare that made me want to fall to the ground and beg him to have his way for me. And then, I remember our pact—to have fun. Our little secret.
“Then touch me,” I whisper.
He raises his fingertip and traces my cheek.
“We need to agree this is just for fun.” He keeps his voice low. “Just between us.”
I nod. I didn’t want anything else from him but this escape.
“And fucking you won’t just be nice,” he accentuates. “If I fuck you, you’re going to feel it.”
Inside I have already descended into orgasm mode, but to keep my tough-girl persona, I think of a way to challenge him. I didn’t want him to think he had the upper hand.
“You’re on, Carrington.” I tug on his towel, watching it fall to the ground. I’m taken aback by his cock standing hard. I’ve never been one to analyze one with such detail but his looks absolutely perfect.
I fall onto my knees, wrapping my hand around it. His body instantly jerks; the moan follows as his hand wraps around my head. I stroke it gently; his skin so soft yet rock hard beneath my grip. As I move my head in, I open my mouth accordingly and allow my lips to wrap around him, sliding him into me as his whole body buckles forward.
“Fuck,” he moans, pushing my head into him.
I take in as much as I can, his growl coercing me to go deeper. His cock hits the back of my throat; my reflexes pushing him back out in between my attempts to catch
my breath. Beneath my yoga pants, my thin cotton panties soaked, waiting for him to rip all my clothes off and fuck me hard like he promised.
I pull his cock out of my mouth, and with barely any breaths tell him, “Fuck me like you promised.”
His expression is pure torment, using all his strength to pull me up and toss me onto the bed. I lay back, fully dressed as he strips me bare leaving me naked in front of him.
He remains dead quiet, silently admiring the view in front of him. His eyes begin to wander, eating me up as they burn with fire when they land on the prize.
Spreading my legs with force, he positions himself in the middle, resting on his knees with his cock sitting at the entrance, gently caressing my clit. I close my eyes, moaning in delight as my back stretches against the white sheets.
He slides himself in, then waits, not moving and keeping himself buried. I open my eyes, maintain an even breathing pattern to stop myself from coming straight away. His lack of movements leave me wondering, but now is not the time for questions.
“We were supposed to talk,” he strains.
“You’re buried inside me. I don’t know how coherent our conversation could be.”