“Wait right here,” he instructed. “This is for you.”
He was gone before I could ask him anything. Bobby strummed his guitar, smiling into the crowd.
“Sometimes in life, you get to meet someone whose vibe speaks to yours. If you’re lucky, you get to be friends with them. If you’re extraordinarily lucky, you get to share their vibe and work with them. It is my great privilege to introduce the talent behind the last two songs, my new music partner, and the latest signing of Ravaged Roadside. Ladies and gents, I give you Logan.”
I gaped as Logan strolled out onstage, his guitar ready. The lights glinted off the worn wood, the brass fittings gleaming. He looked calm and happy, smiling at the applause. He didn’t say anything but stood close to Bobby with a nod, his fingers already strumming.
Bobby pressed close to the mic. “Lottie, this one is yours. Whatever you’re doing to my friend here, keep it up.”
Then Logan began to play. This one, I recognized, as he had played it often. But I had never heard the words he would scribble in the notebook that always accompanied him. Bobby’s voice was drenched in longing and love. He sang words of adoration. Hope. Inspiration. He poured his heart and soul onto the stage, telling the story of a girl who changed the course and life of a lost soul, bringing him into focus. Of loving her beyond comprehension and needing her to live.
The entire time Bobby sang, my eyes were locked on Logan. His rich, intense gaze was pinned on me. It was as if only the three of us were in that room as Bobby crooned lyrics so deep and personal—so obviously Logan and me—I was moved to tears. They coursed down my cheeks unheeded. I wanted Logan to see them, to know I felt him and his love in that song. In all his songs.
As the final notes ended, Bobby’s voice trailing off into a whisper of the last words, the room was silent. I felt my rapid breathing, the way my heart skipped and jumped in my chest. The room burst into loud applause, people stomping on the floor, yelling for more. I couldn’t move, my hands pressed tight to my chest, overcome with emotion. The two men waved, Logan shook Bobby’s hand, and disappeared. Bobby waited until the crowd quieted and spoke. “That was a rare appearance by my new partner. I promise you’ll see him again. I have one more song for you.”
I felt Logan before I saw him. He appeared by my side, his heat soaking into me. I turned and gazed into his eyes. He lifted his hand and wiped away my tears, then tugged me into a dark corner and cupped my face. “Hi,” he murmured. “Good tears?”
I grabbed his wrists. “I am so proud of you.”
He shook his head. “That—” he indicated the stage behind him “—was all because of you.”
“No. That was because of your talent.”
He bent and kissed me, the passion that shimmered between us all the time exploding with the energy we were both feeling. He dragged his tongue along my lip, and I opened for him, whimpering as he took control and kissed me with utter abandon. I shuddered at the long, sensuous passes of his tongue, nips of his teeth, and the way he held my head captive, controlling every aspect. Finally, he broke away, leaning his forehead to mine.
“I have so much to tell you.”
“I want to hear it.” I tilted back my head. “I guess they bought more than a couple of songs.”
“You have no idea.”
“When can we leave?”
“Not soon enough.” He dragged me closer and ground his erection into me. “Talking is going to have to wait awhile, Lottie. This time, I want to take you along on this frenzy.”
His eyes were so dark, the golden whiskey color was obscured. I felt the tension in his body—a coil wound so tight it was about to spring. His hands held me a little too firmly. He was desperate. Barely hanging on.
Recalling what happened last time he was this way, my own desire ramped up. “Let’s go.”
It took a while to leave the room. Trev and Brianna stopped us, congratulating Logan and wanting to talk. The same with Rex and Gretch. His friends were excited, shocked, and wanting to hear the whole story. He promised them time the next day, simply saying we had someplace to be. Brianna caught my eye, her eyebrows lifting at my expression. She stepped back, tugging on Trev’s arm.
“We’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
We hurried away, stopping when Logan needed to shake hands and accept a compliment. The last person who stopped our leaving was Bobby. He stepped in front of Logan, halting his forward progress.
“You are fucking awesome. Your talent.” He clapped Logan’s arms. “I can’t get over your talent, man. Your words blow me away.”
Logan smiled—a genuine one—and laughed. “You sang them. They loved you.”
Bobby shook his head. “They loved us, man. Your music—my voice.” He beamed. “Although when you join me, it’s pure poetry.”
Logan frowned. “You know my thoughts on that subject.”
Bobby met my eyes, chuckling. “Talk to this stubborn fool, all right, Lottie?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I smiled. “Logan is rather stubborn. It’s part of his charm.”
Bobby smirked in agreement. “I know. And I’m grateful for him agreeing to be my partner in this. But—”
Logan interrupted him. “Listen, Bobby. We’ll talk more tomorrow. I have someplace to be.”
Bobby looked at us and the way Logan was holding my hand snug to his chest. A slow, knowing look spread over his face. He winked. “My car is at the back door. I’ll get my driver to take you.”
Logan nodded, his voice tight. “Perfect.”
In the darkness of the back seat, Logan was all over me. He touched me, his long fingers stroking along my skin, delving under my coat, and pulling my blouse from the waistband of my skirt. He drifted his hands up and down my spine, tracing the bones as he kissed my skin, licked his way up my neck, swirling his tongue on the sensitive area behind my ear.
“I am going to fucking take you tonight,” he promised darkly, his voice a low hum in my ear. “Every inch of you, I’m claiming.” He squeezed my ass, kneading it firmly. “Every inch.”
I tried not to whimper, but I failed.
“If you don’t want this, tell me now.”
I remained silent.
At my building, he pulled me from the back seat, not even waiting for the driver to get out. In the elevator, his eyes burned with intensity, reminding me of that first night. Thank goodness it was only a short ride up, or I might have attacked him in the elevator. Logan was right behind me as I hurried down the hall. He already had his key out, sliding it into the lock. The door was barely shut before he was on me again. My coat was yanked from my shoulders and tossed away. I pulled his off, hearing the thump on the floor as the leather hit the wood. His mouth covered mine, his tongue deep and carnal as he kissed me. Cool air hit my back as my vest and blouse disappeared. I pushed his vest off his arms and tore at his buttons, ripping his shirt open, desperate to feel his skin. His nimble fingers made short work of my skirt. I started to pull back, and he shook his head with a low growl.
“The boots stay on.”
Then I was pressed against the wall, trapped between his heat and the hard, smooth surface. He kissed me with everything in him. His chest rubbed my lace-covered breasts, abrading my sensitive nipples. I cried out as he yanked down the cups, making my breasts spill over. He teased them with his tongue and lips, pulling on the nipples until they were wet, red, and swollen. He pinned my hands over my head and slid one heavy thigh between my legs, grinding into me. He watched me the entire time, his gaze wild.
“I’m going to fuck you here, Lottie,” he promised. “Then over the back of that sofa. You’re going to come like you’ve never come before, you understand me?” He slipped his hand between my legs, finding me slick and ready for him.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Look how sexy you are, wearing your boots and your racy thigh highs, your tits swollen from my mouth, and your pussy all wet and hot for me.” He licked at the corner of my mouth. “You want thi
s, don’t you? You want me to fuck you hard.”
His dirty words, his need, everything about this moment was so deliciously intense, so overwhelming and hot, I was certain I was going to combust. I undulated against his hand.
“Please, Logan.”
“Please what?” he teased, sliding one finger inside me. “Tell me what you want, Lottie. I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give it all to you.”
“Fuck me,” I pleaded, breathless and needy.
I cried out when he removed his hand from me, then I began to shake as his pants hit the floor, the thunk of the metal belt loud as it dropped. He lifted me higher.
“Wrap those sexy boots around me, baby. I want to feel those heels dig into my skin as I take you.”
I did as he asked, gripping his shoulders, crying his name as he wrapped his mouth around my nipple and sucked hard. He slid his fingers inside me again, steadily pumping, then with one snap, sank inside me. I let my head fall back to the wall as he curved his hands around my ass, sinking his thick thumb inside, the tight muscles closing around his digit and spasming. He slammed into me, the subtle gentleness I was used to, gone. He was like an animal, groaning and growling, using me. He pinned me to the wall, thrusting hard and intense, his thumb deep in my ass, the pressure turning into pleasure. I trembled as my orgasm raged through me, clutching at Logan and begging for more. He moved faster, sending me over the edge, and I gasped out his name. He rode out my orgasm, then grunted, held me close, and stepped back from the wall. In seconds, he had me flipped over the back of the sofa, pushing my legs apart.
“Look at that,” he groaned. “Wet. Swollen. Dripping with your need.” He traced his finger around my ass. “You like me in here, don’t you, Lottie?”
I spread my legs farther apart, lifting myself higher. I was so turned on and ready to come again, I’d give him anything. “Yes, Logan. Yours. All of it is yours.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
A small flash of white caught my eye, and I reached over and grabbed the small bottle of lube left over from us fooling around earlier that week. It had been forgotten and stuck between the sofa cushions.
I held it up. “You won’t.”
He took the bottle, and I felt the cool liquid drip onto my skin and his fingers rub it in, sliding inside and stretching me. I knew he was adding some to his cock, and I whimpered in anticipation.
“Are you sure?” he asked again, sliding his hand down and teasing my clit. “You want to do this with me?”
“Yes,” I groaned.
He slid his cock between my legs, spreading the lube more, then pressed the blunt, heavy head to my cheeks. “Show me.”
I pushed back, feeling him entering. Stretching me. I closed my eyes at the burn, grasping the cushion under me. Logan eased back, then sank in a little more. He moved, his thrusts becoming deeper, sinking inside more with each pivot of his hips. I moaned and whimpered at his size, but I wanted this. I wanted all of him. When he was flush, he rested his head on my back, his breath hot on my neck.
“Your ass is strangling my cock, Lottie. You feel so good.”
He slid his fingers to my clit, stroking and rubbing. Another wave of pleasure hit me, and I pushed back against his hand. He began to move, short, fast strokes inside me that made my legs shake and my entire body tremble. Soon, he had his thumb pressed to my clit, two fingers sunk inside me, and his cock up my ass. Touching, stroking, thrusting. Every movement brought its own pleasure. Every touch its own thrill. I was awash in sensation.
It was too much. It was dirty and lewd, wrong and yet so right because it was Logan. It was us. Every nerve in my body was on fire, and the orgasm building fast within me was going to tear me apart.
“I can’t,” I pleaded. “Logan, it’s too much. I need—you need—oh god, please,” I babbled.
“You can take it,” he snarled. “Take me. All of me, Lottie. I want to hear you come again.”
It happened. My orgasm hit me, strong and wicked. It tore through me, the pleasure like waves all over my body, small pinpricks of pain woven throughout an intense rush of pleasure I thought would make me pass out. I came, screaming and thrashing. Pushing back against his cock and his fingers. Wanting more, coming for what felt like hours as my body quaked with the intensity of his invasion and lost to the ecstasy of the act.
I came until I was limp and spent, unable to move or form a coherent thought. I knew he had orgasmed, the heat and wet filling me up, his low grunt and snarled growls in my ears telling me how much he had enjoyed it.
I drifted, trapped under his body, our slick skin melding together, our breathing rough and ragged. Slowly, he stood, dropping kisses on my back, rubbing my shoulders. He eased from me, and I grimaced as muscles never used protested and my body suddenly realized the awkward angle it was bent into.
Logan pulled me to standing, turning me in his arms. I was a mass of shaking limbs, sweating skin, and covered in him. I knew my hair was all over the place and, no doubt, my makeup smeared. My underwear was half hanging off my body, and without looking, I knew I had scruff burns everywhere. I was an utter and complete mess.
Yet looking at Logan’s face, at the expression in his eyes, I knew, to him, I was beautiful. He stared back at me, the frenzy calmed, the storm passed, and he was there. My Logan.
I sighed as he set me on my feet and yanked up his pants, leaving them hanging low on his hips.
He cupped my face and kissed me, then lifted me in his arms, striding down the hall, his Doc Martens echoing on the wood.
I giggled, and he glanced down.
“You fucked me with your boots on. Mine too.”
He smiled widely, setting me on the bathroom counter. He stroked my cheek. “I did. And now, I’m going to look after you.”
I groaned in pleasure as he unzipped my boots, dropped them to the floor, and peeled off my thigh highs. He rubbed my calves and thighs, then turned around, starting the shower. I already anticipated the heat of the water pounding against my sore muscles. Logan kicked off his boots and pants, standing in front of me, naked and erect.
He wasn’t done.
He loosened my hair, kissing me.
“I want to make love to you now. In the shower, Lottie. You, me, and my body loving you. Only giving this time. Slow and gentle. I need you one more time. Can you do that for me?”
I closed my eyes and nuzzled into his touch.
“Yes.”
Chapter 21
Lottie
When I woke, Logan was beside me, his hand resting on my hip and his other arm tucked under his head. His beautiful eyes were focused solely on me as his fingers stroked my skin. It was still dark outside, snow swirling in the streetlight outside my window.
I blinked, the dim light burning in the corner casting shadows in the room. I recalled Logan carrying me to bed after our shower. He had tenderly washed me, taking great care, and had made love to me, so slowly and sweetly as I had clung to him, my orgasm a gentle swell of gratification in contrast to the tsunami of our earlier passion.
“Hi,” he murmured, sliding his hand up my torso and cupping my cheek. He drew circles on my cheek with his thumb. “How are you?”
I stretched, testing my muscles, feeling the slight ache, but also feeling incredibly relaxed and satisfied. I smiled and leaned into his caress. “I’m good.”
“I was too rough with you.”
I shook my head. “No. I was right there with you, Logan. I’m a big girl, you know. If I want to say no, I can,” I assured him. “Last night was just…wow.”
His dimple appeared as he grinned. “Wow. I like that word.”
“I like a lot of things about you.”
“Good. I feel the same way.”
I snuggled closer, enjoying his warmth. “You promised we’d talk.”
He chuckled low in his chest. “I was too busy last night to talk.”
“I’m free now.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I met with Carmen, and he
expressed interest in signing me to the label. He had seen me a few times but had never been able to pin me down or get a face-to-face with me.”
“You never hang around after a gig,” I recalled.
“No, I leave right away. I’m too full, too overcharged.”
“Funny, that’s how I felt last night. Overfull.”
He laughed and kissed the end of my nose. “Anyway, we talked, and I explained my throat problem and the fact that I wasn’t interested in an out-front sort of career.” Logan chuckled. “Carmen seemed shocked and admitted not a lot of people say that to him.”
“So…” I asked, trying to get him to open up.
“I thought that would be that. Bobby was at the meeting but didn’t say much, except to tell me how much my music stuck with him. A few days later, he showed up at the school and was waiting when I came out. He wanted to talk to me directly.”
“You must have been surprised.”
“I was. I was already a fan of his—I like his style and his voice. He admitted to me he loved performing, but he was tired of doing covers. He also admitted to being a horrible songwriter. He had bits and pieces, but he could never put together a song that worked.”
I lifted myself up on my elbow. “And you have that talent.”
“He asked about buying a couple of my songs. I was open to that thinking. I figured that the sales plus the royalties would be a good source of revenue for me for the future.” He paused. “I always wanted to hear my stuff in the hands of someone else. Hear how they interpreted my music. So we met again, and I gave him a couple of songs, and once I listened to him, heard how he got them, Lottie, I was hooked. It was as if he knew exactly how to sing the words, express them to make them come alive—the way I wanted to hear them.”
“I think you do that as well.”
He rolled closer. “I know, but I can’t do it live. Not at the level Bobby can. We talked—we talked a lot. He went to Carmen and told him if they wanted him, they had to sign me as his partner. He didn’t want a studio giving him songs, he wanted to sing what he wanted, which is something RR wanted to support. And he wanted my songs.”
Heart Strings Page 19
