Six Night Stand (The Lexingtons Book 3)

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Six Night Stand (The Lexingtons Book 3) Page 19

by Kevin Sean


  After checking to make sure Ben’s still breathing, I turn to Katarzyna. “How the hell did you pull us up here?” I pant.

  “I pulled you up,”

  “While you were piloting the helicopter?” I ask, incredulous.

  “Um, yes… I used one arm to pull you both up and one to control the flight. I’m ambidextrous!” She shrugs, unimpressed by her own feat of superhuman strength.

  Ben rustles and starts to regain consciousness. I drop to my knees to be at eye level with him. I wrap him up in my arms and squeeze him tight. I don’t want to let him go. I’m never making that mistake again.

  “Logan,” he murmurs. “You came back for me. You’re here.”

  “That’s right,” I say, cupping Ben Carpenter’s beautiful face in my hands. “I’m here for good.”

  19

  BEN

  Am I dead? I open my eyes and see nothing but utter darkness.

  It’s pitch black. I could be anywhere: my bedroom, the boat, the mansion, the bottom of the sea… the possibilities all feel equally terrifying and probable as they flash through my mind’s eye. I’m groggy and only half awake.

  My mind fills in the darkness with images that seem from a nightmare: towering waves, a sinking ship, screams for help shouted into the void…

  But then I feel Logan. He’s wrapped one of his arms around me. His weight on top of mine is as reassuring as a child’s security blanket. Logan’s snoring and sleeping soundly. I turn over and reach an arm out, suddenly struck by the unshakeable compulsive need to touch him.

  So I do, running my fingers down his back, tracing the outlines of his chest, brushing my fingertips against his pert nipples and his rippling abs. I let my hand sink into the sexy body hair which grows in all the right places, shaping his toned body much like contour makeup does a woman’s face.

  He’s here. I’m here beside him. Maybe, just maybe, things will actually be okay between Logan and I.

  As minutes pass in the darkness and my vision adjusts to the pitch black, memories from last night become much more concrete. We all rode back to the mansion in the helicopter, Logan and I passed out for God only knows how long, and then we fucked each other’s brains out when we both woke up in the middle of the night.

  I remember me on top of Logan, him under me and then on top of me. The two of us pressing together, licking and touching one another, enjoying and exploring each other’s bodies like never before. Besides the near death experience, that was a pretty fabulous night.

  The memories of fucking Logan are so vivid, so true to life, that I find myself panting heavily and needing to catch my breath as though the amazing sex just finished moments ago, not hours ago.

  Logan loosens his grip on me and stretches his arms while yawning. He’s waking up.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers when our eyes meet.

  “Hello, handsome,” I murmur back before planting my lips on his. I reach around and squeeze Logan’s ass cheeks. He responds by grinding against me with enthusiasm and flexing. Before I know it, I’ve brought one hand around from his ass to his cock. He’s stroking me, too. I love feeling our rock hard cocks rubbing while we tug each other and press our naked bodies together.

  We make out while jacking each other off and it heightens the experience even more.

  After blissful minutes of stroking and kissing, I pull away from Logan. I lick my lips as I shimmy down the bet and set my sight’s on my mouth’s next destination: Logan’s throbbing cock. Once he realizes that I’m about to blow him, Logan leans back, smiles, and laces his fingers through my hair.

  I open my mouth and take him deep. I’m impatient and insatiably hungry for his cock. I almost lost it forever, and now I feel like I’ll never get enough. Even after spending the entire night in an endless cycle of fuck, sleep, repeat, the taste of Logan’s cock can’t get old. Not only is he delicious, but I become so whole—so complete—when we’re tangled up in ecstasy and pleasuring each other. Being with Logan is the best feeling in the world.

  Which is why I’m already getting close to cumming. I should probably stop stroking myself and focus fully on the cock in my mouth, but I’m too turned on by the sensation of Logan throbbing while I bob up and down his shaft.

  I pull his cock out of my mouth and stroke it for a moment. “I’m going to cum,” I pant.

  He nods and closes his eyes, as though in a state of such pure ecstasy that he cannot speak. “Me too,” he finally spits out.

  “I want to swallow you,” I say. He gives another nod before thrusting his cock back into my mouth and pushing my head down.

  I’m happy to deep throat him and take him as far as I can. My face presses into Logan’s washboard abs and pelvis muscles while I gag on his magnificent cock. I feel him throbbing especially hard and I know he’s ready to burst. I quicken the pace at which I’m stroking my own cock so we can cum in sync.

  Logan lets out an animalistic groan and gives one last thrust deep inside of my throat. With it comes the delicious hot stream of evidence of his orgasm. I savor the taste in my mouth for a moment. I give one final tug and my cock lets loose its own barrage of ecstasy. I swallow Logan’s gift.

  After I’ve cleaned up, Logan and I spoon and cuddle, the two of us both thoroughly exhausted. While the edges of my vision fade to a comforting nothingness I hear the faint murmur of Logan whispering in my ear.

  “I love you.”

  I must have fallen back asleep, because now I’m waking up all over again.

  My brain repeats all the motions of confusion regarding my current whereabouts, which leads to quiet giddy acceptance of my extraordinary situation and the handsome company I’m keeping. Or, I should say, was keeping—I reach out my hand to feel my lover but Logan isn’t in the bed next to me anymore.

  He’s left behind an indentation of his big, powerful body in the California king mattress. My heart softens a little when registering the shape of Logan’s form—it’s a reminder he’s been here, by my side, watching over and protecting me even when we’re sheltered from the storm.

  But where is he now? The last thing I remember is the sex. How glorious, the memory of being lost in touching each other’s bodies. Having Logan’s cock in my mouth feels so distant away now, as if I’d imagined it. As if I’d imagined this whole week with Logan.

  Logan. He’s not here. He’s gone. And what about me? Am I dead? Am I even back in Logan Lexington’s mansion, or is this some holographic illusion I have to face down on the road to purgatory?

  I reach over groggily and run my fingers over the indentation Logan has left behind on the bed. I stretch until my grip arrives at the watch he’s left on the nightstand. The sensation of cold metal wakes me up a little more and grounds me. The icy rush reminds me that I’m really here, that all the craziness of the last week really happened.

  I spot a short blond hair—Logan’s—on the pillowcase and pick it up, twirling it between my fingers.

  For a moment my imagination conjures vivid images and possibilities. There’s me, on the boat, me getting knocked down by wave after wave, and me, reaching up to the helicopter, trying to grab hold of Logan’s hand… Logan.

  He was there too. To save me. He could have died, we both could have been swept up in the savage brute force of the storm, but he put his life on the line for me… then he told me loved me. And now he’s gone.

  Right before I can imagine the darkest, most twisted hypothetical explanations for Logan’s disappearance, the door swings open and Logan strolls in wearing nothing but pajama shorts and holding a tray of food.

  “Wakey wakey!” He shouts in a singsong voice. “I made breakfast!”

  “Oh thank God, I thought you’d flown off to another island mansion to meet up with the next innocent boy you plan on tricking into falling in love with you,” I respond.

  “Hey! No fair! I never planned on tricking you! Don’t blame me for being irresistibly charming…” Logan says in false offended protest, but I can see from the
extra flicker of light in his eyes how he got even cheerier and more effusive after I said “in love with you.”

  “Then don’t blame me for loving you,” I grin at him before reaching up, gripping his neck, pulling him down to my level in the bed and planting a loving kiss on his luscious smiling lips.

  After a few blissful moments of swapping spit, I further inspect the breakfast Logan has brought in. It’s a stack of buttermilk pancakes. Atop of the tower of deliciousness he’s arranged blueberries and a strawberry as the eyes and nose above a whipped cream smile.

  “You made a face,” I laugh. “It’s cute! Who knew you could get so creative in the kitchen?”

  “That’s right, make room for a new artist in our relationship, babe,” says Logan while he cuts me a slice of fluffy pancakes.

  I catch my breath. “Um… Relationship?” I wasn’t expecting to define things between us so early in the morning—not that I’m complaining. Logan, my boyfriend, has a nice ring to it.

  Logan’s expression gets serious. “I hope I’m not jumping the gun, I just… I can’t imagine wanting to spend my life with anybody besides you, Ben Carpenter. I’m sorry it took you running away for me to realize you’re the most important part of my world, but I’ll never stop making it up to you. I’ll never stop showing you how much I love you every day. So, make room for a lot more smiley face pancakes,” he finishes before flashing a grin.

  “You risked your life for me,” I say aloud because I’m still processing everything myself. Logan puts a finger up to my lips.

  “And before you say anything else… I’m so fucking happy I did. I’d do it all again. You’re amazing, Ben. In less than a week you’ve given me hope for the future and a new lease on life.”

  I feel tears forming in my eyes—tears of relief and joy. “You’ve done exactly the same thing for me, Logan. You’ve made my life so much better. And I don’t just mean by inspiring new paintings, although those were pretty hot. I feel happier now. I’m lighter, there’s more spring in my step.” I hesitate for a moment. “You know, when I was alone out there on the boat and thought I would die… you were all I could think about. I didn’t care about my family, friends, or even my cat… reuniting with you was my dying wish. That’s sick and twisted, right?”

  Logan squeezes my hand tightly and flashes a crooked smile. “I like twisted. And I love you, Ben.”

  “I love you too.” I pull Logan in for a kiss which quickly leads to us laying on the bed, wrapped together tightly and exploring each other’s bodies with the same electric excitement as that very first night, six days ago.

  The sky is clear. The storm is gone. Today is the first sunny day in San Francisco in a week. But for some reason I have a feeling that Logan and I won’t have very much time to enjoy the delightful weather.

  We’ve got our hands a little busy at the moment. Not that I’m complaining.

  20

  LOGAN

  The Bay looks different now.

  An almost angelic glow emanates from the low dense fog hugging the rising towers of San Francisco. Similar clouds wrap around the bottom of the Golden Gate Bridge, making the rising cables look like the skeletons of red sailboats far off in the sky.

  Ben and I finally decided to re-enter the real world after spending seven blissful days in each other’s intimate company. He’s smiling, stretching his legs on top of me and craning his neck to look out the window of my town car as we approach the city. His muscles are taut and alluring, while his gorgeous face is lit perfectly by the rays of sunlight filtering in from outside. What a view.

  I reach out and run the back of my hand against his cheek. My boy from the bakery. The sweetest treat. I can’t stop myself from wanting to check that Ben is okay. I keep making sure that he’s still here next to me, safe and sound. Yesterday I felt the cruelty of a world without Ben in it. I learned from that mistake. I’m never letting myself fuck up my priorities so badly that I jeopardize this beautiful thing between us ever again.

  The car comes to an abrupt stop. The partition rolls down and Pierre turns to face us. “We have arrived at the home of monsieur Ben!” He exclaims before raising the divider and exiting the car to help Ben get out.

  I know it’s only temporary, but I can’t help not wanting to let Ben go. When he tries to pull away from me to exit the car I hold his hand even tighter. Ben must sense that I’m nervous, and leans back toward me for a reassuring kiss.

  “Don’t worry. This is just for a little while. We’ll be together again before you even have the time to miss me,” he whispers.

  “Just for a little while,” I echo his words, shaking off the levity of our cuddling and trying to make my voice sound more serious. I fail: Ben just giggles and makes a teasing, fake-serious face back. The more time I spend with Ben, the harder it is for me to flip in to boss mode when we’re together. And who can blame me? Even now, imitating me, with his brow furrowed and his face scrunched up, he’s fucking breathtaking. A beautiful specimen of a man.

  Ben is breathtaking, and he’s all mine. And I’m all his.

  “We’re only saying goodbye for now,” I whisper, repeating the sentiment to convince myself. It works, thanks largely to Ben lacing his fingers through mine as I speak.

  “Took us long enough,” he says with a chuckle and a cheeky grin before leaning in to kiss me. “Don’t worry, I’m not running away again. You won’t be able to get rid of me now! You’ll be sick of me before you know it, Logan!”

  “Impossible,” I say while tracing his jawline with my index finger.

  We can’t leave Pierre waiting forever. Ben pulls away and gives me one last wistful smile and squeeze of the hand before he hops out of the car. The door shuts behind him. I still see him waving and smiling on the other side of the tinted glass, mouthing the word goodbye over and over again as the car pulls away.

  It hurts to leave my boyfriend, no matter how long. But damn, does it feel spectacular to have something like Ben to look forward to at the end of a long day.

  We pull away from Ben and head towards Lexington Tower. Right before we turn onto another street and lose sight of his apartment, I turn back for one last glance—and sure enough, there Ben is, still grinning and waving goodbye. Even from a distance, he gives me butterflies.

  When we’re less than ten minutes away from the office, I receive an incoming call. Another disaster at the office? What is it this time? To my relief the caller ID informs me it’s my cousin Liam phoning me, not someone from LexTech.

  I answer right away. “Liam! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Listen, Logan, I think something huge could be happening at Photogram… in a bad way,” Liam says, sprinting through the sentence and panting when he finishes.

  “In a bad way? I don’t follow what you’re saying.” Photogram is always doing something in a bad way, but they also always still come out ahead by very little hard work of their own. What has Liam heard?

  “Well, I’m getting word from my other journalist friends that a ton of media outlets are interviewing ex-employees of Photogram who are all jumping ship from the company and speaking publicly against the business practices of their CEO. Supposedly, the entire company is on the verge of bankruptcy. When I heard all of this, I couldn’t help but think back on our conversation a couple of days ago, when you were asking about Photogram,” my cousin explains.

  All I manage to respond with is: “Wow.”

  This was the last thing I’d expected to be hearing about Photogram. I knew that they’d been engaging in shady behavior and espionage… but for them to straight-up declare bankruptcy? It’s shocking. I wonder now if Dalton Elijah’s questionable business practices were driven not only by arrogance, but by desperation.

  “I don’t have all the details, but I wanted to pass what I’ve heard on the grapevine along to you.”

  “Well, I appreciate it,” I say, and I mean it. Information is everything in this industry. “Watch out for yourself—and tell Ty I said hello!”


  “Thanks, Logan, I know he’ll appreciate that. He’s always liked you, which makes me question his judgement,” Liam teases.

  I laugh. “He’s a sucker for a Lexington! Don’t let him near Charles. Mostly because if he so much as touches him, Daniel will end his life on the spot.”

  This makes Liam laugh, too. “As if! That pair are too in love with each other to look up and notice whether I have spinach in my teeth. Ty wouldn’t stand a chance!”

  I love the levity of this moment, the closeness I feel to my cousin, and I’m flooded with regret that I haven’t made more of an effort to visit my two cousins now that they’re living in the United States. What kind of family member am I?

  “Listen, Logan, I need to leave, I’m meeting with my staff in a couple minutes. I’m glad we got to chat for a little. See you in two weeks!”

  “Bye, Li. Can’t wait to see you,” I respond before ending the call.

  I’ve been off the phone with Liam for all of fifteen seconds before Pierre rolls down the partition and cheerily announces: “We have arrived at LexTech, monsieur!”

  Indeed we have. Above us is a towering spire of sheet glass and titanium. It’s breathtaking as ever, but my heart doesn’t swell so fully with pride at the sight of my company’s offices. The skyscraper is impressive and a testament to my business acumen, sure, but I’ve had my priorities realigned a little.

  Nowadays I’d much prefer for the first thing I see in the morning to be a view of my boyfriend’s tight ass, rather than a view of Lexington Tower.

  I look down from the top of the skyscraper and realize the building has been surrounded by police cars. What the hell is going on? I pull out my phone to dial Sue, but before I have the chance she runs up to the side of the car and taps on my window. I jump out of the car.

 

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