by Elle Aycart
Her laughter was throaty and so damn sexy. “You are jealous.”
“Yes. Very.” A first for him. In all his years married, through all the fancy parties he’d attended with Vivienne, he’d never felt like stashing her away so no one else could touch her. Now? Now he was ready to face off with a punk kid for so much as looking at Sky.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’m extremely satisfied with you. Not searching for your replacement—at the moment.”
“At the moment?” He laughed. “Good to know. I’ll start stocking up on Viagra for when my faculties diminish.”
She rolled her eyes, hugging him tight. “What do you say we sleep late tomorrow?”
“No sleeping late for you. You want to stay in bed, it will be with me deep inside you. No sleeping, I guarantee.”
“That’s no deterrent.”
“Good. Afterward we could head for Mrs. Rantala’s. Pick up the last of your things.” She hadn’t spent a single night there since he insisted she stay with him, but she’d kept the unit.
“I’d rather not. I like having my own place. Just in case.”
He hated that “just in case.” Just in case of what? She got tired of him?
They danced for several songs until there was a pause in the music. “Attention, everyone.” It was Bastian, the owner of Wet Ducks. “It’s midnight. May first has arrived. The summer season is officially inaugurated.”
As happened every year, people yeehawed and started jumping into the lake.
Gaping, Sky watched. “What’s—”
“Tradition, babe.” Before Sky could react, he lifted her and heaved them both into the lake. After them jumped Cerberus, clearly confused but willing.
Sky resurfaced, sputtering. “Freezing!”
He laughed, shaking water off his head. “It’s Minnesota. Warm enough.”
She splashed him, but when he reached for her, she went to him of her own volition, wrapping herself around him. “You failed to mention this tradition.”
Smirking, he kissed her. “Oops.”
“Now I understand why everyone from town showed up in flip-flops,” she muttered. “You should have warned me.”
And pass on seeing her looking like million bucks? No thank you. “You angry because your outfit got ruined?”
“It’s nothing a dry cleaner can’t repair.” Then she whispered in his ear, “And thank God for the Brazilian ass. It’s keeping me afloat.”
Minnesotans might think summer had kicked in, but from the way Sky was trembling, she obviously disagreed. After wrapping her in a towel, Logan drove her home.
Once in the bedroom, he got rid of his damp clothes and watched as she fought to get out of her wet dress. He approached and nuzzled her neck. “Need some help?”
She looked at him and lowered her gaze to the hard-on poking at her. “I know where your help leads to, Alchemist.”
He undressed her, taking his time. Stroking her. Relishing her soft moans and the way she reacted to his touch, her body slowly coming to life and vibrating with desire. When he had her completely naked, he gathered her close and kissed her, exploring every inch of her mouth, pouring into his caresses all that he didn’t dare convey in words. How precious she was to him. How much he loved her. How fucking scared he was.
“You okay?” she whispered as he released her, obviously catching the tension.
He nodded and summoned up a smile. He had to tone his feelings down, bring them back to terrain he could navigate before he lost it and end up a babbling mess on the floor. “Turn around, Butterfly. I want to fuck you against this table from behind.”
“That might not work for me. I can’t touch you or see you.” She grabbed his cock. Squeezed. “I like touching you.”
“I’ll make it work for you, I swear.” He moved them a bit to the right and motioned to a big mirror. “And you’ll be able to see me.”
She stared at their images, her eyes getting bigger. She liked the idea. She turned her back to him and lifted one knee on the table.
Jesus fucking Christ, the view. He went to his knees and licked her quivering pussy.
“Oh God.” She flung her head back, bowing her spine, granting him better access.
He would have loved to make her come in his mouth, but there was no way in hell he could pull that off without spilling himself. When she was wet enough to take him, he stood and slid in in one long thrust. Then stopped.
She lifted her head. “Logan?”
“Fuck yourself against my cock,” he growled, breathing through his need while her pussy flexed around him.
“You’re power-tripping.”
“I am. And you like it too.”
She looked mischievously at him in the mirror and obliged him.
He did his best to remain still and let her lead, but she felt so damn good wrapped around his cock, changing the rhythm, that soon he was out of his mind. And so was she.
“Need more,” she whimpered, rocking against him, her sweet tits bouncing while she tried to get him deeper
He grabbed her hips and began pounding into her, working her pussy ruthlessly, watching, mesmerized, as his cock impaled her and then slid out, all wet and shiny from her juices. Again and again.
Fuck. He needed her to see. Holding her firmly against him so as not to dislodge her, he sat on a chair facing the mirror.
“Logan, what—”
“I want you to watch as you take my cock.”
“More power-tripping?” she asked, her lips pursed. Nevertheless, she braced her feet along the slats that connected the chair legs and sinuously lifted and then lowered her body.
“Watch, babe,” he ordered, gripping her waist for support. “Look at how well we fit. How your pussy parts for me and sucks me in to the hilt. So hot.”
She shuddered, tightening around him.
“Don’t come yet,” he said, staring at the gorgeous woman riding him—how she moaned and trembled, her sweet nails digging into his thighs. “Fuck my cock slowly. Enjoy me.”
She rested her head on the crook of his neck, her breathing ragged. “My body is on fire, Logan. I don’t think I can slow down. Especially if I watch us.”
“Yes, you can,” he whispered, trailing kisses along her throat. “Look into the mirror. Tell me what you see.”
She straightened. “My nipples are swollen and aching. My pussy too. It’s red and puffy from making love. I can feel every inch of you, even the engorged veins running along your cock. You throb inside me.” She slowly pulled up, his glistening dick appearing between her stretched folds until only his crown was wedged in her. “Amazing that you can fit inside of me.” Just as slowly, she lowered herself onto his cock, her pussy lips clinging to him, so wet and tight, until she’d swallowed all of him. Then she squeezed her inner muscles. Hard. “I can feel your cock pulsing. You need to come. Watch my clit. It’s pulsing too. Touch it.”
She’d turned this on him. Now he was the one out of his mind.
He couldn’t deny her anything. He reached for her clit and rubbed it in circles as she increased the tempo of her thrusts, his gaze locked with hers in the mirror. Fuck, too much. He wasn’t going to be able to hold out.
Luckily, he wasn’t on that boat alone. Sky tensed and, arching her back, started coming, her pussy spasming around him, taking him with her on the spot.
“Love how you fuck me,” she whispered, staring into the mirror after they regained their breaths. “Absolutely love it.”
Unable to withstand her scrutiny, he closed his eyes. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder, tightening his embrace. He could play games all he wanted, but at the end of the day, she was the one with all the power. The one fucking his heart into mush.
Chapter 18
Sky sat outside the dean’s office, feeling like she was back in junior high, waiting to be reprimanded by the principal. She had no clue what the rules were about fraternizing with her students, but hiring one for a band gig and inviting the rest to a party shouldn’t be a capital
offense, should it? Maybe it was, because the dean’s assistant had interrupted her class to tell her to report to the dean after dismissal.
“Dean Chenik will see you now,” the assistant announced, opening the door. The woman had never been a bowl of laughs, but today she seemed particularly bitchy.
Okay. Time to face the music. She’d apologize for whatever infraction she’d committed. End of story.
“Ms. Gonzalez, please sit down,” the dean said, never lifting his gaze from some papers in front of him.
She obeyed. “You wanted to see me?”
His nod was curt. He took his time before looking up. “I would have hoped you would come to us first. It would make this situation less awkward.”
He’d found out about the party. And by the looks of it, fraternizing with students was a big deal. She was so fired. “I can explain it. I swear—”
Dean Chenik raised his hand. “Ms. Gonzalez. We all knew you weren’t here by choice. It was no secret. I do understand, though. The temptation is a big one. I myself have considered taking a dip in that pool, if you know what I mean. Trying uncharted territories. Living my dreams. I can’t blame you for jumping into it headfirst.”
Oh God, what did this man think she’d done? Some of the guys had taken off their shirts and jumped into the lake in their boxers, but that hadn’t been her idea. She’d left shortly after that. Whatever else had happened, she’d had no part in it. Besides, they were all of legal age, weren’t they? She went over their names. Simon. The one with the incipient beard. He looked young.
“People around here are not very accepting. They’re set in their ways. But you fit in, and we don’t want to lose you. I want to propose an alternative to your… departure.”
Oh shit. Simon was underage. Forget getting fired. Getting fired was the least of her problems. They were offing her. Did Minnesota electrocute felons for inciting minors to partial nudity? “I didn’t intend to offend anyone.”
“I know it’s nothing personal. You’re just sowing a few wild oats before you settle. I get it. We can’t compete with the exotic, obviously, but there’s something to be said for old and reliable, don’t you think? Even if it is less exciting.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise you I didn’t touch them. I only organized the event. I didn’t realize they were undressing until they jumped into the lake!”
He frowned. Blinked twice. “What lake?”
She paused, totally confused. “What exactly are we talking about?”
“I’m talking about your transfer, of course. It just came in. Well, not so much a transfer, a second internship to follow this one. They’re offering you an opportunity to teach during the summer semester in France. You were only signed up here for one semester, but we were hoping you would stay on for the summer with us. Your supervisor speaks highly of you, as do your students. Several of the summer courses are linked to the spring ones, so continuity is appreciated. We really don’t want to lose you.”
She cleared her throat. “France? As in Paris, France?”
“Didn’t you know? I assumed they had informed you. What did you think I was talking about?”
Sky didn’t bother explaining. Her brain was stuck on the word France. “When?”
“In two weeks.”
Her time in Minnesota was up.
Two months ago, she would have cried for joy at this news. Now she was feeling… she didn’t know what she was feeling. Dread. Unease.
“As I said,” he continued, “Minnesota is no France, but we are very happy with your work. The students have taken to you. If you go, we have to get another intern. I told you, we Minnesotans don’t like change.”
“I… this is very kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”
“Take your time,” he said, handing her some papers.
Sky left the dean’s office as if she were walking in a fog. Disoriented, she plopped on a bench. Her phone rang several times, but she ignored it. Reading the papers was mission impossible. Her mind was too scattered to retain the information.
“Mami, you okay?” she heard someone say. Elias. He sat by her side.
“Hello, Elias. Yes, everything is fine. I just got some unexpected news.”
“Good or bad?”
“Not sure. My head says good. My gut says bad.” Actually, if she took into consideration Dean Chenik’s offer, then she’d gotten good and bad news. She just couldn’t decide which was which.
Elias said promptly, “Gut trumps head. Every time. You know how recovering addicts always talk about a higher power guiding their steps? Well, ‘higher power’ is a fancy word for ‘gut.’”
“Really?”
“Totally. Listening to my head—either of them, actually, if you get my meaning—has always landed me in big trouble. Listening to my gut keeps me in the straight arrow.”
“On the straight and narrow,” she corrected, although it was the bigger idea that got her attention. “How big was this trouble?”
Elias exhaled hard. “You don’t want to know, believe me. Forget your head, your heart, your wallet, the people around you yapping. Everything. Your gut churns, you listen.”
For a while now, she’d suspected Logan was The One. Capital letters. Her gut was screaming it at her. But should she leave such an important decision to her gut? “How do you know the churning isn’t just plain indigestion?” she asked.
Elias laughed and stood up. “Because it doesn’t go away with antacids, mami.”
Good point.
After thanking Elias and saying her goodbyes, she got in her car and turned on the cassette player. The tape was one she’d found in the glove compartment—some eighties mix, recorded off the radio from the sound of it. Monroe had offered her other tapes, but she’d stuck with her serendipitous find, like a lucky charm.
On her way back to NoName, her cell rang, so she answered. “You will never believe this!” Lola yelled at the other end of the line. “You got the transfer back to civilization. Your school had been trying to contact you, but they didn’t get through, so they called me. When can I expect you back? Tomorrow? The secretary said you have to fill out some papers.”
Sky didn’t answer.
“Sky? Did you faint?”
“I’m here. I don’t know, Lola. I’m not sure about spending the summer in France. I have to think about it.”
Silence. Then a huge explosion of rushed words: “What the hell is there to think about? This is your ticket out of hell!”
“I wouldn’t call this place hell.”
“If this is about money, you don’t have to worry. I’m working now, I can lend you whatever you need. Pack your bag and come,” her sister insisted.
“It’s not the money. I—”
Sky realized she’d lost the signal. It was for the best. Her sister would just keep demanding explanations, and Sky had none. Yes, the logical thing to do was to grab the chance and run, never looking back. Paris, France. Her dream. She could beg her old boss to make another appointment with her contacts there. And yet, when Dean Chenick had told Sky about it, her feeling of dread at the thought of leaving Logan had been overwhelming.
She could always take the Paris internship and then come back to Logan. If he wanted her, which she wasn’t clear about. But even if he did, her plan had been to apply for a retail buyer apprenticeship in France. Her worst-case scenario had been to come back to New York and slave away for her ex-boss again, hoping for another shot at Paris. None of her plans had included a move to Minnesota, to the deep woods, surrounded by preppers who thought the world was about to end.
She made it to Logan’s driveway and her cell started beeping again. Hail, Wi-Fi. She ignored it. The messages were probably from her sister, demanding answers Sky didn’t have.
She looked around. Arnie wasn’t in the yard, running full speed to greet her, and there was no sounds coming from the greenhouse, so she headed for the house. Inside, she found Arnie sitting halfway up the stairs, Logan lying
by his side, talking to him in a soothing tone and feeding him treats.
Oh my God. Her throat clogged at the sight. That was two, four, six, eight, ten steps. Sky had never gotten Arnie past the fourth step, no matter how hard she tried.
Logan looked up at her and smiled. “Cerberus, our girl is here.”
Arnie turned his head to her, his tail wiggling.
“What are you doing?” she asked, fighting not to cry.
“Teaching him to climb stairs. We’ve made huge progress. Can’t carry him forever, can I?”
Her legs moved before she could even order them to. Crawling into Logan’s lap, she hugged him, so hard her arms hurt.
“You okay, babe?” he whispered.
She nodded, not lifting her head. When she loosened the embrace a bit, he kissed her. “You crying?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Allergies. And I’m premenstrual. It makes me extra sensitive. What’s that nice smell?”
He didn’t seem that convinced, but didn’t push it. “Cookies. From Emily, as thanks for the party. Agatha had a blast, so she cooked a batch for us and these doggie treats without sugar for Arnie.” He showed her a plate full of bone-shaped biscuits. “Nutty bacon bites, Agatha called them. He loves them. Enough to get him halfway to the second floor. Monroe tried them too, I hear.”
“Crap.”
“What?” Logan asked, perplexed. “I’m positive Monroe has tried much worse things than doggie treats. He’s lived all his life in NoName, after all.”
“Nutty bacon bites. Remember the result of the bacon-flavored chips? Be ready for him to gas us.”
He cringed and turned to Arnie. “Buddy, we love you, but you’re sleeping in the hallway.”
Arnie must have decided that was an acceptable punishment for his future crimes. He stretched his muzzle to the plate.
“You still want one?” Logan asked, putting one biscuit up the stairs, out of its reach. “You’re gonna have to climb.”
Arnie whimpered and looked to Sky, but Logan was adamant. “Come on, you can do it.”
With a huff, Arnie unlocked his frozen front paws. Shaking, he made it up one more step. Getting his rear paws to move required a bit of help from Logan, but all in all the bribe was a success. Logan patted his head, congratulating him, while Arnie wiggled his tail and ate the treat.
