by A. J. Logan
Feathering kisses on my inner thigh, one hand grips my outer thigh while his other hand trails up my inner thigh before slipping his fingers inside me as his tongue licks my clit, teasing and sucking. Unbidden, my hand grips his hair, my hips instinctively grinding against his mouth.
A sexy laugh vibrates against my pussy as his tongue works its magic, his fingers pumping inside me. My back arches off the bed, craving more and also needing to retreat from the incredible, overwhelming sensation. But retreat isn’t an option; I need him to continue like I need air to breathe. Sensing exactly what I crave, Dylan delivers a relief to my frenzied peak, the orgasm flowing intensely through me as he slows his tongue, languorously licking as he pulls his fingers out of me. Gripping my thigh, he licks my clit, moving lower as I lie there, savoring the feeling flowing through me. I can’t believe that that felt even better than the last orgasm he’d given me. I hadn’t thought that one could be topped, it was so good.
He slowly kisses his way up my stomach and chest before returning his mouth to mine, lustfully kissing me while my hands grip his sides. He goes to move off me, but I hold him in place.
“You taste even better than I imagined,” he says, licking his tongue across my lips. “I’ll be right back.”
Carefully climbing off me, he’s barely gotten his feet beneath him, standing beside the bed, when I grab his bicep. “Wait.”
I sit up on the edge of the bed, straddling his legs between mine as I reach to unbutton his jeans. His hand covers mine. “Sadie, it wasn’t a line. I don’t expect anything in return.”
“What if I want to?”
Groaning, he threads his fingers in my hair, bending to meet my mouth with his. “I’m not going to stop you.”
My fingers fumble with his buttons, but I undo his jeans and push them down, where they pool at his ankles. He kicks them off as I drop to my knees, stroking my hand over his cock. I look up to him, slowly licking the smooth skin of his dick. I feel him tense, his hand gripping my hair as he watches me. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m so thankful I waited for him.
Stroking my hand up and down his length, I take him in my mouth, rolling my tongue over the head of his cock.
“Fuck,” he groans, slightly pumping into my mouth as his fingers tighten in my hair.
Sucking him, I keep one hand on the base of his cock as I grip his solid thigh with the other. He slowly thrusts into my mouth, his pace becoming harder and quicker as I look up at him. His face twists in desire as he pushes into my mouth a final hard time before quickly pulling away from me, his hand covering the head of his cock as my hand continues stroking him. With a groan, he spews his load into one hand while his other grasps my neck, guiding me to stand. Breathing heavily, he drags my mouth to his, kissing me fervently before pulling away and drawing in a deep breath.
“That was amazing.” He bends down to grab his T-shirt, then wipes his hand first before taking mine and doing the same. “Shower with me?” he asks. I nod and let him lead me into the bathroom.
He turns the faucet on, fixing the water temperature until steam rises from the spray. He notices me staring at him, so he stops to slowly pull my naked body against his. “Another first I’m hoping?”
“Yes,” I whisper, thankful that he knows my hesitation and is patient with me. It’s mind-blowing how he can be so accommodating in some ways and so demanding in others—a prime example of how great he is at twisting and turning me. He knows exactly when to push and when to pull.
I step into the tub, facing the stream of water as he gets in behind me. His mouth drops to my shoulder and his hand wraps around me, pressing against my stomach. We stand there for a moment, my back to his front, luxuriating in the warm spray. Then he lathers the soap on me before I turn and do the same to him. It’s so intimate that I almost forget we haven’t had sex yet, haven’t experienced everything together. There’s a part of me wondering why and a part that’s thankful. If everything else is this intense with him, how will sex be and how much will it change things between us?
We step out of the shower, dry off, and walk back into the bedroom. He tosses the covers back, and we slide into the bed, him on his back as I curl up against him. Though I’m totally aware that neither of us are wearing clothes, I feel completely at ease. How can I feel so vulnerable with him yet so safe at the same time? And more importantly, what is he going to do with that power?
32
Dylan
As I wake up, every drop of whiskey I drank last night pounds on my head. What was supposed to be one drink turned into—I don’t even know how many. But Bryce was right, I’d needed a drink and to beg her for forgiveness for being an ass.
Turning my head, I spot her lying on her stomach, the quilt barely covering her ass, revealing her bare back. Her face appears peaceful, her cheek resting against the pillow as she sleeps soundly. Pulling the blanket up to cover her back, I slide out of bed and walk to the bathroom before I do exactly what’s on my mind. The pounding headache doesn’t lessen as I quickly dress then head out to the kitchen. Rummaging around the cupboards, I find a canister of coffee and brew a pot as I continue to search the cabinets.
“What’re you looking for?” Willow asks as she reaches into a cabinet, grabbing out a mug.
“Anything for a headache.” And a hell of a hangover, both from liquor and from Sadie.
Willow walks into the living room, grabs her purse and searches in it as she returns to the kitchen. She pulls out a bottle of aspirin, still searching until she pulls out a second bottle of aspirin that she slaps into my hand, tucking the first bottle back into her purse.
Studying the bottle, I ask, “Do you have anything stronger? My head is killing me.”
“No,” she replies. Grabbing her mug, she fills it to the brim with coffee then stands there, studying me.
Is she suspicious for her friend’s sake, or her own? Willow doesn’t strike me as the type to get involved with anything illegal and with her severe loathing of Kyle, it wouldn’t make sense. “What’s Parker up to this morning?”
“He’s probably just getting off work.”
“Oh. He works nights?” I knew that but I feel like there’s still something I’m missing when it comes to Parker.
“Yep, six days a week. I don’t know how he functions,” Willow says, her fingers gripping the mug in her hands.
Pills can help with that, and it’d help even more if he had a direct supplier. “I’m sure it’s tough, but the money is probably too good to pass up.”
“That’s what he says. It’s not like he needs the money.”
I force a laugh, hoping to seem convincing but I’m not feeling it. “Must be nice. What’s his secret?”
“Trust fund baby, but it never seems like enough. He’s always aiming to make more money.” She stares past me, lost in her thoughts for a moment. “I don’t think it’ll ever be enough.”
I feel like I’m prying where I shouldn’t be, rightfully so, but there’s too much at stake for me not to examine every angle, every possibility. “Why’s that?”
She shakes her head with a nervous tension. “Parker wants to open a shop specializing in exotic cars, but he doesn’t want his family’s money contributing to it in any way. He says it’ll never be his if his grandpa’s money pays for it.”
So, he’s desperate for money and even more desperate not to lose it. That drive could explain the frantic need to hold onto money and a vehicle when it’d set him back even further. Maybe even enough to kill. “Hm. I’ll have to chat with him after the races tonight.”
“Good luck with that. He usually runs straight off to work afterwards.”
That’s odd since Parker stuck around the night Noah won his car and never drove off with it. “I’m sure his hard work will pay off eventually.”
“Yeah. I hope so.” Willow sets her mug on the counter before walking out of the kitchen.
The strange conversation is replaying in my head when Sadie’s bedroom door opens and sh
e steps out, looking over to the mug in my hand, her eyes dropping to my stomach.
“Do you ever wear a shirt?”
“Not if I have a choice,” I say, taking a generous swallow of coffee as I watch her over the rim of my mug. She pours herself a cup with her back to me, purposely avoiding looking at me. But it’s too late. I saw the heat on her cheeks the moment she walked out of her bedroom.
Placing my mug on the counter, I step behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, my mouth next to her ear. “There’s no shame in looking … or touching … or tasting.”
Her body tenses against mine as my eyes fall shut, my hand gliding down her stomach and sliding under the waistband of her pajama shorts. My fingers rub over the soft material of her panties. Even in a drunken haze, every detail of last night is burned into my brain, and I only want to relive it.
“Willow is here,” Sadie says breathlessly as I push aside the fabric, my fingers stroking her as her head drops back against my chest.
“I know.” With one arm around her torso, I hold her against me as my other hand feels her, my fingers slipping inside. “I’ll make it quick.”
“Dylan.” She breathes my name as I pump my fingers inside her, rubbing her only a handful of times before she comes on my hand. My satisfaction is how easily she responds to my touch, how openly she’s giving in to her desire and relaxing with me. But fuck, it’s not enough. I’m afraid I’ll never get enough of her.
Slowly withdrawing my fingers, I lean forward, kissing her neck as she remains propped against me, her breathing heavy as she grips the counter.
Willow walks out of her room, not paying us much attention, though Sadie jumps, quickly stepping out of my arms. I snicker which earns me a glare, her cheeks redden as she says, “I’m going to get ready for class.”
“I thought you were taking the week off?” Willow asks.
Sadie stops in the doorway, replying back to Willow, “No, I’m ready to go back. This apartment is getting too crowded,” then shuts her bedroom door behind her.
Laughing, I pick up my mug, finishing my coffee.
Giving me a stern look, Willow points to me. “I will cut you.”
“Noted.” I nod, heading into Sadie’s bedroom where I grab my bag and fetch out a shirt.
Pulling it on, I gather my phone and keys then head to the living room, sitting on the couch until Sadie emerges. She’s dressed in a royal blue T-shirt with the signature howling coyote uni logo and a pair of yoga pants, complete with flip-flops. How does she look so enticing in something as plain as a T-shirt? Maybe it’s because I’ve seen what’s underneath and still want to delve deeper. Yeah. It’s a good idea to get out of this apartment for a while because I need some air.
“I have some things to take care of today.” I give her my key fob and shoot Bryce a quick message to swing by.
Sadie doesn’t move. Standing with the key fob resting on her palm, she studies it, a troubling look on her face because I don’t know what’s going through her head.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s funny how quickly you hand over one of the things guys care about most but not the other.” Her fingers wrap around the key fob as she swiftly walks out the apartment.
I want to follow her; tell her she already has every part of me that counts. But I don’t. My words won’t matter when she finds out everything I’ve done, and everything I’ll have to do.
33
Sadie
There’re a few things I won’t admit to him. One is that I’m enjoying the smooth ride as I easily shift through the gears, steering the STI on campus. There’s no telling how much money he has put into this stupid car, more than he obviously should have, but it has definitely been modified to handle just right. Another is how I’m not only enjoying the ride but also the smell of his stupid car. Because it’s his. That sexy, masculine scent lingers around me; and after he’d given me an earth-shattering orgasm in the freakin’ kitchen … I’m hopeless. So, why in the hell had I opened my mouth and admitted that not only do I want to have sex with him but that I’m bothered by the fact that he hasn’t tried yet? Ugh—that’s what’s going through my mind. I have no clue what’s going on in his complicated brain.
Shoving the door open, I step out of the car, slamming it behind me. It’s not him pissing me off, it’s the desperation I’m feeling—the neediness, even—that’s driving me insane.
Attempting to focus, I hurry to class, mentally running through everything I need to catch up on. Already missing class this early in the semester, on top of everything going on, is just reminding me that this year is shot to hell, but that won’t stop me from trying to ace all of my classes. I need something to focus on other than Dylan’s dick, after all.
Class breezes by quickly as I play catch-up before I head to meet Willow in our spot at Coyote Café. I could hang out in there for hours, and I’d still feel behind.
Bliss fills me when I see Willow already at the table with a cup of coffee waiting for me. It’s much needed since my morning coffee was hijacked.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the cup as she slides it across the table.
“You’re welcome,” she says, giving me a smirk.
“Stop it.”
“What?” Her grin grows. “I didn’t even say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Oh, come on. I haven’t gotten a chance to get any details since the latest development.”
“There’s not much to tell that you don’t already know.” Lie, but I can’t say some things to her without saying it all. “How’s Parker?”
“I don’t know.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“I thought you stayed at his place.”
“Oh, yeah. I did. But you know, he’s never there for long. He’s gone most of the time for work.”
“He does have long shifts.” And normally, Willow doesn’t like staying at his place alone. It’s one of the reasons she wanted to get a place with me. “Has he had any time off?”
“No, not much.”
“That sucks.” Stop. Stop thinking it. Stop questioning your best friend and her boyfriend. I know both of them well enough to know there’s nothing sinister going on, whether Dylan wants to believe it or not. I’d never expected Kyle to be guilty either, but I could buy him being involved much easier than anyone else.
“Yep.” She slams her book closed, obviously having some trouble focusing too. “Are you going to the Dome tonight?”
“I don’t know.” I want to and I don’t, but I already know I’ll be there because Dylan will be. That’s another thing I won’t admit to him. But I have to be there now that I know about Noah. Even with his tough exterior, it can’t be easy on him to go there.
“Liar.”
The word penetrates my thoughts as I look to her, my heart hammering against my chest. Only she’s smiling because she doesn’t know how correct she is. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
“I figured that much out by the reigning champ standing in our kitchen this morning.”
Mention of Dylan and the kitchen causes me to shift in the chair. Opening my psych book, I try my best to remember what chapter we’re on. Damn it. Feeling her eyes on me, I look up to see Willow’s concerned expression.
“Just be careful, Sadie.”
“It’s nothing,” I lie, though she doesn’t buy it. “Really. You know I’m just getting out of a long relationship. I’m not ready for anything, especially with Dylan.”
“That’s a shame,” she says softly, empathy in her voice.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The ones we lie to ourselves about are the ones that hurt the worst.”
Biting my lip, I consider her answer. She has Parker. Dependable, reliable, always-there-to-catch-her Parker. I have balance-on-the-ledge-while-I-try-to-catch-my-footing Dylan. “You’re wrong, and Parker wouldn’t hurt you. He never has.”
Willow grabs her books
and coffee, standing from the table as she mutters, “I wasn’t talking about Parker.”
Now I’m even more confused as I watch her walk away from the table. Her head lowers, her eyes study the floor. What did I miss? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own mind have I really missed something that big going on with my best friend? No. Her and Parker are perfect for each other. They’re the ones who give me hope that people can actually be better together. She has to be referring to someone before Parker. I hope.
Spending the remaining time staring unseeingly around the busy café, I get absolutely nothing accomplished before heading off to my next class. It’s generally painless as I get through the remainder of the day then walk out to the parking lot. I had a handle on myself, mostly, until I spot his car, precisely where I’d left it. It’s unnerving, particularly when I lie to myself and pretend that I hope he’s not at my apartment when I get back. At least I know Willow wasn’t lying to me, even if it’s hard to hear the truth sometimes.
34
Dylan
Something’s off. I’m not sure what, but something is going on with her. She didn’t argue with me about coming to the Dome, which is definitely out of character. It’s possible she actually wants to hang out with Willow, but she’s usually ready to argue just to drive me insane.
