by L. A. Witt
I laughed, which broke some of the tension I hadn’t realized was still lingering in my chest. “I can do that. I’m pretty good with after-dinner entertainment too.”
“Oh, I know.” He grinned. “I’m counting on it.”
I pushed the lid down on the banker’s box. “Oh my God. This is the last one.”
Casey grinned at me from his cubicle. “Well, last one for today.” Leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, he licked his lips. “The sooner we finish all of them, the sooner your nights and weekends are all mine, yeah?”
“Yes. Yes, they are.” It was a Friday night, the end of my fourth week of plowing through these records, and the prospect of a completely free weekend—one spent with Casey—sounded amazing. I probably should have spent the weekend working on this, but since I had Casey’s help and we still had some time before the inspection . . . eh, what was the harm in a little time off? “How about I go drop this in the conference room, and then we get the hell out of here?”
He was already on his feet and reaching for his keys. “Love that idea. Let’s roll.”
I didn’t even take the time to give the room full of boxes a satisfied look. I could gloat another day over the empty space where today’s boxes of unfinished records used to be and the growing pile of boxes marked Finished. Right now, that whole getting-the-hell-out-of-here thing was way higher on my priority list. That and I didn’t want to look at the remaining boxes. We’d get to those.
We’d driven in together because . . . well, we’d woken up at his place, and figured we’d end up there again tonight, so why bother with separate cars?
In the passenger seat of his car, I briefly closed my eyes and let my head fall back. “Oh my God. I will be so glad when that shit is done.”
“Yeah.” He patted my leg. “Then you’ll get to start teaching.”
“Great. I mean, I’ll be glad when the records are done, but I’m . . . kind of nervous about teaching.”
Casey smiled warmly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s stupid easy—you just read from the PowerPoint and notes, mostly. And you’ll have one of us with you for a while until you find your feet.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“But don’t worry about it right now.” He watched me over the console as the engine idled. “We should do something when all the record bullshit is over.” His eyebrows rose. “Chill? Or celebrate?”
“I think chilling will be celebrating at that point.”
“Yeah, I agree.” He ran his hand back and forth on my thigh. “We’ll figure something out. For tonight, how about a movie?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We settled on a Back to the Future marathon because we were both in geeky moods, and Logan ordered takeout from that Thai place we were single-handedly supporting. It must’ve been a busy night for them because the delivery time was going to be around forty-five minutes.
Scowling at the clock, Logan said, “We should probably start the first movie now. Otherwise we’ll be up till two watching the third one.”
“Fair point. We can always pause it when the food shows up.”
I should’ve known it was a bad idea.
As soon as we’d settled onto the couch, the warmth of Logan’s body next to mine distracted me from everything. The movie. The Thai food slowly making its way to the apartment. Everything.
I pressed my leg against his. He pressed back. Then his hand slid over my knee and started a slow climb up my thigh that made it almost impossible to breathe. I turned to say something to him, but instead of whispering in his ear, my lips were right against his neck. I forgot what I was going to say. Kissing his hot skin was more important. A lot more important. Enough that it made sense to twist my whole body toward him and drape an arm over him as I explored every inch from his earlobe to his collar.
I nipped the base of his neck, and he hissed, shivering against me.
“You know,” he half groaned, “you’re not making it very easy to focus on the movie.”
I laughed softly and let my fingers dip beneath his shirt. “I forgot what movie we were watching twenty minutes ago.”
“You too, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“God, Casey . . .” With a low groan, he shifted and moved to straddle me. As soon as he’d settled on my lap, he bent to kiss my neck.
Oh yeah, this was hot. He kissed my neck, I kissed his, and our hands roamed all over on top of our clothes. When he twisted toward me, I slid my hand down to his ass and into his back pocket, and he moaned against my throat. He practically purred.
“God, I want you so bad,” I breathed.
He grunted against my lips as he rubbed our clothed dicks together. “We should totally fuck in this position one of these days.”
A groan escaped my throat at the thought of fucking him. My leg needed to heal. Stat.
Then I shifted a little, testing the injured limb. It didn’t hurt. The angle didn’t put any strain on the joints and muscles that were still healing. We could . . . we could do this. Like now.
“One of these days?” I pressed my erection harder against his. “Why wait?”
Logan lifted his head and met my gaze. “Are you serious?”
I was getting more serious by the second, especially with that smoldering lust in his eyes. I ran my hands up his sides. “Yeah. I am. If you’ve got a condom and some lube . . .”
“I do, but . . .” He gulped. “Are you sure your leg is okay?”
I tested it again just to be sure, moving cautiously, then nodded. “It’s fine. Especially in this position.” I kneaded his ass. “I don’t see me bottoming anytime soon, but if you’re game to get on and ride me . . .”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.
“That a yes?” My voice came out hoarse and shaky.
“Uh-huh.” He rested his forearms on my shoulders as he leaned down for another kiss. “Definitely.”
“Then get me a condom and get these fucking clothes off.” I tugged at his waistband. “I want your ass. Now.”
“Mmm, bossy.” He nipped at my lower lip. “I like it.”
“Then why aren’t you naked?”
He laughed evilly and got up. “Stay just like that.” He winked. “Dressed.”
I eyed him. “Kinda hard to fuck you with my pants on.”
“Fine.” He kicked off his own pants and boxers. “Take them off enough to get them out of the way. But leave everything else on.”
Unbuckling my belt, I shot him a look. “Thought you liked me naked.”
“I do. But trust me on this.” He left for the bedroom.
I rucked my jeans and underwear down far enough to free my dick. I was almost afraid to touch myself, even to put on the condom; just thinking about finally fucking him was about to do me in.
Logan came back a second later and tossed me the condom and lube. While I rolled on the rubber, he finished stripping out of his clothes. Fuck. I loved the way this man looked when he was naked, and knowing I was finally going to have him the way I’d been fantasizing?
Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. Bring it on, baby.
With a devilish gleam in his eyes, Logan returned to the couch and straddled me again.
“Mmm,” I murmured, sliding my hand up his bare chest. “You’re right—it is kinda hot when only one of us is naked.”
“Told you.” He kissed me quickly. “Now c’mon.”
I grinned up at him as I teased a nipple with my thumb. “What’s your hurry?”
“Besides the fact that I’ve been dying for you to fuck me?”
“Hell. When you put it like that.” I picked up the bottle of lube and stroked some onto my dick.
As I slicked up a couple of fingers, Logan arched an eyebrow at my hand. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Don’t need a whole lot of prep.”
“Good to know.” I ran my palm up the underside of his thigh and teased his hole. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, and when I roughly pushed two fingers in, he grunt
ed softly, but that was definitely not a pained sound. “Like that?”
“Uh-huh. But I want . . . C’mon, Casey. You know what I want.”
“I do.” I teased him inside with my fingertips. “Kinda like the idea of making you beg for it, though.”
“After we’ve waited this long? You’ll be torturing yourself as much as me.”
“Mmm, fair point.”
He kissed me, and we both moaned as I finger-fucked him and carefully stretched him. His breathing was getting faster and sharper, as if he’d given up on riding my dick and was going to get off like this.
So of course, I stopped. Slipping my fingers free, I murmured, “I think you’re ready for more.”
“Uh-huh.” He shivered, and I thought he swore under his breath as we both guided him down onto my cock.
Once the head was lined up with his slick hole, I said, “You’re in control. Go as slow as— Fuck!”
All at once, I was as deep as he could take me.
“Slow? Fuck slow.” He rose and took another hard stroke, both of us grunting when I bottomed out inside him. “I’ve been wanting your dick for way too long.”
“Ungh. Why didn’t . . . didn’t you say—”
He kissed me messily. “’Cause I wanted you to heal first.” He rose again, and as he came back down, he whispered, “This okay? With . . . with your leg?”
“My leg’s fine,” I ground out. “C’mon. This all you got?”
He gave me a challenging look, then shifted his position a little, and— Oh, no. That was not all he had. He rode me fast and hard. We definitely couldn’t have done this a couple of weeks ago. Tonight? Oh fuck yeah.
I forced my eyes open just so I could drink in the sight of him. This was stupidly hot—Logan completely naked, riding my dick while I was still mostly dressed. I didn’t know why it was hot, only that it was, and I didn’t question it.
He rested his arms on the back of the couch and leaned down to kiss me. All the while, he kept right on moving, and I kept a hand on his hip and the other in his hair, and we were making out and fucking, and oh yeah, this was amazing. I’d known anal with Logan would be worth the wait, but it was just . . . so . . . so good.
“Don’t come yet,” I whispered in his ear, breathing hard as my own orgasm closed in. “I want to blow you.”
Logan groaned, shuddering so violently he threw off his own rhythm. “Oh God . . .”
“Not yet, baby.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Let me . . . let me finish you off . . .”
“You’re gonna finish me off if you keep talking like that,” he growled.
I laughed and gripped his hips tighter. “You can hold back.”
“I know, but . . .” He shivered. “This is so good. I want to come.”
“Bet you do, but I want you to finish in my mouth.”
He threw his head back, cursing softly. “God, Casey . . .”
“You can— Fuck!” I dug my nails into his hips and pulled him down onto me, burying myself as deep as he could take me, and moaned, “Holy shit . . .” as I came. He didn’t stop moving his hips, rocking and twisting as much as my tight grip allowed, and it was a good thing I was under him or I’d have just toppled right onto the floor.
Logan slowed, and he grinned down at me. “I like this position.”
“Y-yeah. Me too.” I licked my lips. “Jesus . . .”
He eased himself up off my dick, careful so the condom would stay in place, and I realized he hadn’t come yet.
“Get up here,” I growled, nudging his hip.
Logan sat up on his knees, and before I could say or do anything, he cupped the back of my head and forced his cock between my lips, and suddenly he was fucking my mouth as frantically as he’d ridden me. I whimpered around him. He was so sexy when he was this desperate, and I loved, loved, loved the way he fucked my face.
I kept one hand around the base of his cock to steady us both, and slid the other between his legs. He whimpered as my fingers slipped between his cheeks, and he swore—the words little more than a throaty fuck-shaped groan—as I pushed my fingers into his slick hole.
“Oh God,” he called out, loud enough my neighbors definitely heard it. Quieter, but with no less intensity, he moaned. His fingers dragged through my hair. His hips rocked, and I couldn’t tell if it was to fuck my mouth or ride my fingers, but he was doing both, and apparently he loved it, so I didn’t hold back. I swirled my tongue, squeezed with my lips, crooked my fingers—anything to get him to make those delicious, helpless little sounds.
His hand tightened in my hair. His thrusts became uneven and jerky. Oh yeah, he was close. As his cock thickened against my tongue, I groaned and he whimpered.
That’s it, Logan. Let go. Let me hear you—
“I’m gonna come,” he slurred. “Gonna . . . Oh yeah, baby, I’m gonna . . .”
I hummed around his dick, and he mumbled curses as his fingers twitched in my hair. His hips jerked, nearly forcing him in farther than I could take him, but my hand kept him from going too far. A second later, he made a breathless, helpless sound, and cum spilled across my tongue.
“Oh God.” He shuddered again, then dropped back onto his haunches, and we just stared at each other for a minute, panting and shaking. “I didn’t do that too hard, did I?”
“No. If you did, you’d have known it.” I slid a hand up his thigh. “I thought it was hot.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. I like rough blowjobs.”
Logan bit his lip as he shivered again. “Good to know.”
“And I guess you like everything rough, don’t you?”
He grinned. “Not gonna say no to it, that’s for sure.”
“Mmm, really good to know.” I wrapped my arms around him.
He sank against me. Lips brushing mine, he said, “We should do movie night more often.”
“I agree. I’ll start keeping some lube in—”
A sharp knock at the door startled us. Logan nearly tumbled off me, but I grabbed him, and we both eyed the door suspiciously.
“Who the—” I gasped. “The food. Oh shit.”
Logan snorted. “Crap. I completely forgot.”
“Just a minute!” I called out as we scrambled up. Logan grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the bedroom, and I fixed mine on my way to the front door.
When I opened it, the driver stared at me with wide eyes. With a barely contained laugh, I wondered how long he’d actually been standing there before knocking.
He cleared his throat as he handed me the bags. “Your total is twenty-nine fifty.”
I handed him two twenties and muttered, “Keep the change.” It was a huge tip, but considering the audio porn he’d been subjected to, it seemed fair.
After I’d closed the door, I called to Logan, “Coast is clear.”
He came out, wearing jeans and nothing else, but he had his shirt in his hand.
“Mmm.” I looked him up and down. “You’re going to stay like that, right? Half-naked?”
Logan chuckled. “Is that a subtle way of saying we’re going to wind up fucking instead of watching the second and third movies?”
“Probably.”
“Then . . .” He tossed his shirt over the back of a chair. “No point in putting that on, is there?”
“Nope.” I snaked an arm around his waist and kissed him. He drew it out, humming softly as we pressed together and explored each other’s mouths.
“We should eat,” he said, his lips barely leaving mine. “Before . . . before it gets cold.”
“I have a microwave.”
“Uh-huh.” He grinned, then gently pushed me back. “And I still owe you for teasing me at the office.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You’re—”
“Let’s eat. We still have movies to watch, right?” From the way he was smirking, he wasn’t going to budge. Damn it—I should’ve known he’d make me pay for those teasing texts.
“Fine.” I huffed melodramatically. “I’ll g
o get some plates.”
He slapped my ass as I walked by. “That’s what I thought.”
We exchanged playful glares. Oh yeah, we’d be fucking again before this night was over.
For now, though, we sat back on the couch we’d just defiled, and balanced our plates on our laps. As we rewound to where we’d stopped paying attention, I couldn’t help but grin.
We definitely needed to do movie night more often.
Dark. Almost completely dark. Blanched light knifed in through the cracks around the door, slicing across papers and gear attached to the metal wall, and those long blades of stark white made the black even thicker.
The desert got cold in the winter, and the nights were brutal, especially inside a CONEX box, but that wasn’t why my teeth were chattering.
I stared up at the ceiling. Well, the inside of the box. There were other guys around me. Sleeping. Maybe. Someone was snoring. Someone else was breathing too fast to be asleep. I wondered who it was, and if he was lying there in the near-silence thinking the same thing I was. If he was listening. Worrying. Waiting for a missile, a mortar, an IED . . .
Listening for the telltale whistle of an incoming projectile was pointless. Grandpa had told me that. Told me what he and his buddies had all known in World War II.
You never hear the mortar that kills you.
You never hear the mortar that kills you.
You never hear the—
“Logan?”
I opened my eyes. The room was dark, but it was a different kind of dark. Soft light came in from the parking lot, muted by the curtains, and the walls weren’t so claustrophobic. No one was snoring. Music was playing softly. Coming from the iPod. On the nightstand. In my apartment. In Anchor Point. On a Sunday night, which meant I had to work tomorrow, which meant I needed to be fucking sleeping.
I exhaled as the deep-seated fear faded to a memory. As it became something I’d felt years ago and had no reason to feel now.
Casey was on his side behind me, a hand on my shoulder. “Hey. You with me?”
“Yeah.” I shuddered. Then I tensed. “Did I wake you up?”
The way he moved felt like a shrug. He was right up against me, skin hot. “You okay?”
