by Bailey B
I steal a glance across the room, to Piper’s table. From what I’ve gathered Logan’s brother, Cooper, still eats lunch with Piper every day. But seeing as Cooper was suspended for fighting, Logan has taken over the job. He smiles, stealing a cheese smothered french fry from her tray. Piper rolls her eyes, feigning indifference and tucks her earbuds in. I bet this is what it’s like for them at home. Fun. Playful. The complete opposite of how Logan is at school.
“So, what do you think?” Gunner asks, pulling my attention back to the table.
I blink twice, searching my brain for some trace of the conversation I tuned out but I’ve got nothing. Once again, I got lost in my thoughts staring at Logan. I need to stop doing that. Thank God he’s been skipping the classes we have together, I’d be royally screwed if he were there. “Huh?”
“The party tomorrow night. Want to go with me?” Gunner asks again.
Truthfully, I hate parties. Drinking isn’t my thing, although for the sake of appearances I’ll usually nurse a beer or two. Also, most parties bring drama and I’d rather not deal with any of it. But Gunner’s hopeful eyes stare down at me and I don’t want to disappoint him, especially if he’s going to help me get over my infatuation with Logan. “I’d love to.”
“Awesome. I’ll pick you up at nine.” Gunner leans down and presses his lips against mine, threading his fingers through my hair. I close my eyes, letting his tongue slip into my mouth for a short, sweet kiss.
Our first kiss.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and he pulls back. I press my lips into a tight smile, letting him know I enjoyed the embrace when really, I’m confused.
He fingers one of my barrel curls and asks, “Want me to walk you to class?”
I shake my head and tell a tiny white lie. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom, but I’ll catch you later.”
“Okay. Bye, doll face.” Gunner turns, leaving me in the now empty cafeteria to sort through my thoughts.
Our kiss was nice, but it wasn’t earth shattering. It felt safe, like kissing someone you’ve been with for years. There were no sparks or butterflies. It was just a kiss. I grab my soda and the garbage my so-called friends left on the table. I stand, turning towards the trashcan when I see him.
Logan.
6
Danika
My stomach leaps into my throat as Logan crosses the room, each step purposeful and confident. The intensity of his glare sets my skin on fire, burning me in a way I’m unfamiliar with. I dispose of the trash, freeing my hands just in case I need to push him away. Or maybe pull him into me. I bet he’s a better kisser.
“So you’re one of Gunner’s playmates now?” Logan asks, his voice dark and deep and full of malice.
“You’ve avoided me for how many days now, and that’s the line you go with?” I shake my head, more amused than disappointed. We’re playing a game of cat and mouse, only Logan doesn’t realize I’m the cat. “Shame. I thought you could do better than that.”
A sinful smirk tugs at his luscious lips. “You know, once you spread those thick legs of yours Gunner will be done with you.”
Fucking dick! My legs aren’t thick. “Screw you.”
The second bell sounds, signaling that anyone from this point forward will be marked late. I should turn and run to my next class, begging my teacher for forgiveness because I had lady issues. Instead, I cross my arms. Even if Logan’s words are cruel, I can’t help but want to hear what he has to say next.
“No thanks. I make it a point not to play anywhere Gunner has been. Or Tad for that matter.” Logan pauses, his brooding gaze scorching my insides. “Jake at least wears a condom.”
“Jeez, Logan. Why do you have to be so gross?” Even if that deep rumble of his makes me shiver in the best of ways, I can’t stomach that he thinks Gunner and I’ve slept together.
Logan reaches out and takes hold of my elbow as I turn to leave. His touch catches me off guard, leaving me lightheaded. I reach behind me for the table, bracing myself as my knees wobble. “You can’t fucking trust him Danica. Gunner is a snake, just like Melody.”
“Like you’re any better? You’ve been nothing but an ass to me ever since I came back.”
Logan groans and kicks the trash can, denting the red metal cage around it. “You’re nothing but a new skirt and the first person to nail you—”
I draw back and punch Logan straight in the nose. His head snaps back, the sound of his bones crushing the only noise in the empty cafeteria. I’ve hit plenty of people since moving to California, probably too many, but each time it was justified. I always felt better afterwards, but for some reason with Logan I feel guilty.
Logan wipes the blood dripping down his upper lip with the back of his hand and attempts to snap his nose back into place, only it’s more crooked than before. Unless it’s fixed, he'll have breathing problems and probably need surgery.
All the tension falls from my shoulders when I step towards him. I did this. I should fix it. “Sit. Let me help.”
Logan folds his arms and stands his ground. Dark circles have already begun to form under his eyes, and the guilt of what I’ve done swallows me whole. He may be an ass, but something made him this way. Maybe if I can figure out what it is and show him that I’m not the enemy, he’ll turn back into the sweet boy I used to know. “Please.”
With a huff, Logan complies.
Having a dad as a doctor, I’ve picked up a few skills. How to set a dislocated shoulder, CPR, how to stitch a wound, how to set a broken nose, where the important places are to stab someone (or in my case hit) when in danger. Basically, Dad wanted to make sure that when I went off to college, I could fuck someone up and then fix what I broke.
“Slide down and rest the back of your head on the table. I don’t want you flinching.”
Logan silently follows my directions. I kneel beside him and place my thumbs along the bridge of his nose. The position is awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t feel like I’ve got a good angle to set the bones correctly.
Without thinking, I kick my leg over Logan’s waist and sit on his lap. Strong hands immediately find my hips. I know it’s a reflex for him, but that doesn’t stop my heart from sending tremors throughout my body.
I close my eyes, letting the high that comes with Logan’s touch take over. I lean closer pressing my stomach against his hard chest. Logan squeezes, his fingers digging into my ass. My nipples pucker under my bra, aching to feel the warmth of his hands.
I snap my eyes open, instantly remembering what I’m supposed to be doing. I clear my throat and align my thumbs with the sides of Logan’s nose. I apply direct pressure and the bones snap back into place. “Done.”
I linger on Logan’s lap a little longer than necessary, but he doesn't seem to mind. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him? To satisfy the urges rippling through my body. This thing I feel when he’s near, it’s indescribable because I’ve never felt anything like it before. A magnetic push and pull. An electric shock to the heart. A wave of excitement dipped in fear. Whatever this is, it’s all of that and more.
I slide my hands down Logan’s cheeks, locking my fingers around his neck. My hair falls from behind my shoulder, shielding us in a curtain of rosewater scent. Logan is experienced. He has to know that I want him to kiss me. He kisses everyone with a vagina. So why not me?
I lick my lips, hoping he’ll accept the silent invitation. Instead, Logan shoves me to the floor. I look up at him, tears on the brink of escaping, not because I’m hurt. I’m embarrassed. Even more so when he gets up and walks out without a word.
7
Danika
“I’ve got it!” I yell from my room as I finish spraying my hair. I forgot how bad Florida’s humidity is. If I don’t use extra-hold hairspray my hair frizzes and the curls I twist with my straightening wand fall within minutes of stepping outside. I’m not ready, but I guess my time is up.
I rush down the stairs, eager to get to the door before
my dad does. The last thing I need is for him to drag Gunner into the living room for an interrogation. Things between us aren’t serious and even if they were, I’d avoid that situation at all costs. “Going out. Bye, Dad!”
“Hey,” I say, breathlessly closing the door behind me.
Gunner runs a hand through his luscious blonde hair. He licks his lips, eyes trailing over my cropped Doors band T-shirt and high waisted jeans. I’m sure everyone else will be wearing something skimpy with heels, but I don’t feel comfortable showing my body off to the world. There’s nothing wrong with dressing like that, it’s just not my style.
“You look gorgeous.” Gunner steps closer, pulling me by the waist into him.
One of his big hands curls around the back of my neck and he crashes his lips against mine. He slides his tongue into my mouth, devouring me. This kiss is nothing like the slow sweet one we had in the cafeteria. This one is hungry, drenched in expectations and ultimately disappointment. I had hoped this afternoon's embrace was a fluke and that I would feel something more with the next, but all I feel is my heart steadily beating in my chest. Not even an inkling of a flutter in my stomach.
I exhale when we break apart and Gunner smirks. “I feel it too.”
I smile up at him, too guilty to say that was an exhale of disappointment and not a breath of wow. Maybe all I need is time, but the way Logan said playmate this afternoon makes me a little nervous. I can’t help but wonder how many girls Gunner has been with and how long they stick around for. “Listen, Gunner, I need us to take things slow.”
“I figured you weren’t like the rest,” he purrs, tucking my wayward strands behind my ears. “Why do you think I waited so long to kiss you?”
Three days isn’t a long time, especially when you’ve just met. But arguing my opinion is pointless. As long as Gunner understands what slow means, we’ll be fine.
Gunner drapes his arm over my shoulder and opens the door for me when we reach his car. Logan is wrong. Gunner is sweet, understanding, and patient. He’s the kind of guy I need to be dating, not the broken ones with issues who never understand why I’m not ready to give my V-card to them.
Gunner drives with our fingers intertwined over the gearshift as he speeds down the highway. I’ve never been in a car so expensive in my life, or so fast. By the time we pull up to tonight’s party, my stomach is in my throat from the ride. I relish the ten seconds it takes for him to walk around the car and open my door, using that time to settle my nerves.
Even though the night is young, only nine-thirty, the driveway and grass parking at this house is already full. Gunner opens the front door, not bothering to knock because it’s unlikely anyone would have heard it anyway. He guides us straight to the patio where the keg is and pours me a drink. I take a small sip, nodding in approval as he downs his first cup.
One of Gunner’s football buddies grabs his attention. They start talking about next week's game for what feels like forever. Growing up, the only time sports was on our television was when it was Super Bowl Sunday, and even then we only watched the commercials. We were never football people.
That changed for me halfway through the sixth grade. What started as me wanting to show Logan he had a friend, turned into a weekly routine I looked forward to: Football then milkshakes.
Listening to football lingo, on the other hand, is mind numbing. Unable to stand another minute of their jargon, I leave the back patio. Gunner’s so into the conversation, he doesn’t even notice. I stumble upon the kitchen and dump the beer in my cup down the sink.
Logan strolls in, a busty brunette by his side a few seconds after me. I hate the girl without even knowing her because she has his attention. And I hate myself for wanting that attention. He leans against the counter, pulling the girl into a kiss meant only for the privacy of a bedroom. His eyes snap open, gaze locking on mine as I shamelessly watch.
I lean against the counter and cross my arms, wanting to seem unfazed by Logan’s make-out session. His dark gaze finally breaks from mine as he whispers something in the girl’s ear. She nods and walks out of the kitchen, but not before he smacks her ass.
I shake my head, pretending to be put off by the extra show of PDA when really my body is humming. “You're disgusting.”
Logan ambles to the fridge and grabs a can of soda. He dumps half of it down the sink then fills the remainder of the can with something from a flask. “You’re just jealous.”
“Not even.” I push off the counter and stand beside him. Even with two black eyes, Logan looks amazing; but I’ll never tell him. His ego is larger than Harry Styles' and I have no desire to feed it. “You know, I’ve never seen you do anything besides make-out with a girl.”
He chuckles, smirking against his drink. “Sorry if I don’t make it a point to entertain you, but what I do behind closed doors is my business.”
“Do you even take anybody behind closed doors? Seems like you’re more than happy to put on a show for anyone who will watch.”
“Why do you care so much?”
Because I’m jealous and hate that I want to be one of those girls. “I don’t care. I just think your reputation is nothing more than smoke and mirrors.”
“Would watching appease you?”
I shrug, calling Logan’s bluff. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Fine.” Logan grabs my arm. “Let’s go.”
My pulse races as Logan drags me out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the living room. What have I gotten myself into? He whistles and damn near every girl in the room looks our way. Logan points at a blonde from my math class and wiggles his finger for her to follow us into the bathroom. He shoves me in first, then holds the door for his new plaything.
I cross my arms and glare. The thought of this girl satisfying him in a way I can’t twists my insides. I don’t like it. “Do you even know this chick’s name?”
He looks at her and raises an eyebrow.
“Emily,” she says, her voice dripping with lust.
Logan unzips his pants but keeps his gaze on me. “On your knees Emily.”
The girl excitedly fists his cock then slips it in her mouth. I try to focus on Logan’s face, but Emily’s noisy slurping is hard to ignore. My gaze drifts to her bobbing head. I’ve never watched porn, let alone seen it live. The experience is uncomfortable and yet oddly arousing.
“What?” Logan guffaws, probably noticing the flush on my cheeks.
I shake my head, too embarrassed to admit what’s happening to my body. I read a lot. The steamy romances I like talk about how girls are dripping wet, soaking their panties. I always thought it was an exaggeration. Totally understand what they’re talking about now. “Nothing. I just thought it would be bigger.”
“It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever played with.”
I smirk, feeling my cheeks burn hotter, and roll my eyes. “Either Emily here is the world’s worst blowjob giver, or you’re having a hard time concentrating.” I stick up my pinky and wiggle it. “Little-Logan having performance issues?”
Logan grabs Emily by the hair and lifts her to her feet. “Out.”
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand then slips out the door without a word. Are girls around here used to this kind of treatment?
Logan turns the lock on the handle, this time caring if we get interrupted. The air crackling around us fills with tension as he steps in front of me. The ebon of his irises disappear, swallowed by his large black pupils.
His exposed cock presses against my leg, sending a rush of warmth through me. I fight the urge to lick my lips. I don’t want to give Logan the impression that I want him, even if I do. This base is one I don’t have much experience with. I’ve only seen three penises in my life.
My first was uncircumcised and absolutely terrifying.
The next was so veiny it looked like a road map.
And the other was pencil-thin and crooked.
Logan’s is thick, long, and smooth with a mushroom tip. If I were ev
er to consider licking any of those penises, it would be his. But I’m damn sure not saying that either.
“You seem awfully critical of Emily’s blowjob skills. Care to show me what you’ve got?”
Not confident in my skills, but not wanting to seem intimidated either, I reach down and wrap my fingers around Logan’s silky shaft. I squeeze, just hard enough to milk a quiet moan from his lips. I move my hand across its length, once.
Then twice.
Logan’s eyes drift shut. My body hums, begging for him to touch me. Desire pelts through me like an unforgiving rain. It's overwhelming. I let not-so-little-Logan fall from my grip and step around him to the bathroom door. “Put yourself away. That thing isn’t even worth talking about.”
8
Danika
Goosebumps break out across my flesh as I stand in the hallway, pressing my back against the cold bathroom door. Logan’s taking his time and for that I’m grateful. I’m trying not to think about what he’s doing in there, but I highly doubt he’s taking a shit. Heat climbs my neck again. Is he thinking about me?
“Hey,” Gunner says, making me jump.
“Oh hey.” I play it cool, like I wasn’t just thinking about Logan’s massive dick again. The space between my legs tingles. I look up at Gunner and smile innocently. Nope, I’m not having dirty thoughts right now. My mind is clean as a whistle. Liar.
“Where'd you go?”
I hitch my thumb behind me inconspicuously. “Bathroom.”
Please don’t come out right now.
“Oh. Okay. Come on.” Gunner takes my hand again and pulls me deeper into the house, to the basement.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful Logan is still…doing what he’s doing. How long does that take?
The handrail to the basement is wrapped in blue holiday lights, adding to the ambiance. I didn’t know Florida houses could have basements. I thought they would flood because of their low water table, but apparently when you have more money than God, you can buy anything. Do anything. This particular basement has been turned into a black light dance party with a full-fledged DJ.
