by Logan Chance
Houston
Marley and some lanky guy were full on fucking on her living room couch. Are you fucking kidding me.
I moved to the window, and couldn’t turn away.
Marley was lying over the couch with some boy thrusting away behind her. My cock grew hard instantly when I watched his face and the pleasure he was experiencing. She must feel so good.
His face said it all, he was in heaven as he slammed into her. I leaned my forehead against my window as I tried to get a better glimpse of her. She still had her shirt on, and her hair hung over her eyes.
God, what did she sound like? I adjusted my dick in my pants as I continued to watch. I’d never seen anything like it, and hadn’t planned on seeing this when I came home this evening.
He had his hands on her hips, and I thought if it were me, I’d be fisting my hands in her hair. I’d be slapping her ass, I’d be pinching her nipples. Why wouldn’t he take her shirt off?
Obviously he hadn’t feasted on her body before he just took her against the couch. I rubbed my cock through my pants, and then lowered my zipper. Taking out my hardened dick, I fisted it in my hand, pumping it slowly.
She leaned her head back, and I could see her face for a moment. She was enjoying it, but not like she should be. She should be screaming. I knew I could make her go wild. He wasn’t even trying.
He kept pumping as I tried to get a better look. I wanted to see more. I wanted to see what her pussy looked like. Were her nipples pink, or darker?
I rubbed the head of my cock, spreading the precum all over and started beating off rapidly. Fuck, all I could think about was what she looked like. What did she feel like? I could still smell her sweet scent, did she taste that sweet.
I stopped mid-stroke and zipped up my pants. Grabbing the papers off the desk, I marched out my door.
I had to put a stop to them fucking. He didn’t deserve her sweet body.
I walked through her apartment building and ran up the stairs to the third floor. Trying my best to guess which apartment would be hers, by gauging where her window would be across from mine, I knocked.
8
Here are a few journal entries that were cut out. This entry went along with Houston watching Marley.
The main reason for the journal entries at all in the book, is that he was kind of a jerk. I wanted the readers to know there was something else going on beneath the surface. I felt the journal entries helped the reader see a bit more into his mind, and pain.
Journal Entry #722
She sweeps her long brown hair off her shoulder.
She sits at her desk, studying once again. She’s very studious. It makes me want to take her right on her desk and do unmentionable things to her.
She wore her hair up today. She usually only does that on Thursdays.
The shrink told me writing in this thing would help me sort through my “issues” as she calls them.
Lately it’s just become a shrine to her. I can’t stop watching her no matter how hard I try.
But, she’ll never know. No one will.
Ever since the plane. I can’t get the images out of my mind no matter how hard I try.
When I think back on her waking me from the nightmare I have every night, my pride gets the best of me. She saw me at my weakest, and I hate myself for allowing that to happen. To let her see the demons within.
9
Marly dominating scene, now when I wrote the daydream scene. I was just going for something fun. I didn’t plan on it being a daydream, but after reading through it I felt it was way out of character for both of them. No way would Houston ever let her spank him.
Well, the scene actually went on and on. But, I cut this part because in the next scene he was going down on her again. Which I even think I cut that scene too. When I write a book I just write and write, and then during editing I tear it apart, rework so much and piece it all back together again.
You should see the 23,000 words of deleted scenes I have for Like A Boss. (Don’t worry I’ll share some later on in this book)
Usually I use the scenes for different books, but most times they just sit forgotten in a word doc never to be looked at again.
But, for this book I wanted to share the process I go through while writing a book.
How usually my original plan and storyline gets changed so much. How so many times I will have teasers that don’t pertain to the finished product.
Always striving to make the book better, I destroy the book while editing. And, then put it all back together again.
Enjoy the rest of Marley’s daydream…..
He rubs the soft skin of my bare ass before bringing his hand back and making contact. The sound of his slap is deafening through the room, and the sting feels so good, it hurts. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
He rubs the pain away and stands still, waiting for his next command. He’s so fucking hot and into this.
“Did you like that, Professor?”
“Yes.”
“Sit down,” I sit on the desk, my legs spread for him, “now.”
He plops down in the chair, and I stare into his eyes. “You’re turning me the fuck on, Marley.”
I want his lips on me, I want his tongue inside me. Using every ounce of confidence I have left I ask for what I need. “Make me come, Professor Dale.” I inch my skirt up as his eyes wander down my body to right where I want him.
He smiles before diving in, pushing my panties to the side. He licks from my ass to my clit, and my body nearly bucks off the desk. My fingers grip his hair, tightening their hold with every swipe of his tongue. “Oh God, Houston.” My body trembles as he grips onto my thighs. This feels so good. I grind my pussy all over him, unable to control my actions. My body has a mind of its own as I hold tighter to him.
Houston doesn’t let up, he’s a wild man. His face is buried deep and I raise my face upward and close my eyes. He tugs me closer to the edge of the desk as he continues fucking me with his tongue.
Anyone could walk in, but I no longer care about any of that. All I care about is reaching my big ‘O’. It’s the moment I’ve wanted since the last one he gave me.
His face rocks and it creates the perfect rhythm and my orgasm nears. With my ass in his hands, he brings me to another epic orgasm. I can’t catch my breath. Oh God. My legs shake as I try to sit up.
Houston’s eyes catch mine and I blush. “Very good, Professor,” I say in a weak voice, spent from my orgasm.
He smiles and his eyes light up, and my heart drums harder at the sight.
I slide off the desk, and reposition my skirt. “So, I guess I should get going.”
He nods, and I start toward the door. Part of me wants to say more, but I don’t and walk away.
“Marley?”
I glance over my shoulder. “Yes.”
He stalks closer, leaning down to where our noses are barely touching. “As hot as that was, don’t ever think you can spank me and get away with it. The punishment for that little act will be ten-fold.”
I shrug and walk away, smiling, waiting for the punishment I shouldn’t want.
10
Not really sure what this scene is. I think it’s ANOTHER classroom scene. I don’t know what I was thinking while writing it, but I didn’t feel like they were in the classroom so much. But, after the first read through I knew a lot was about to get cut out. I knew I wanted to rewrite the nostrings agreement so I could do it elsewhere, and not in the fucking classroom.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back onto the couch.
Every interaction with him feelings are growing for my professor, and I need to tamper that down immediately.
This push and pull between him confuses me. But, I’m too far gone in the likes department. Working for him, watching his lectures, and just being near him has helped me ace this strong attraction I have for him.
What is going on in that gorgeous head of his?
Every once in awhile, I get a real emotion o
ut of him. A real smile here or there. It usually fades just as quickly as it reaches his dark eyes.
Thinking back to our trip to Chicago, I remember his bad dream. What demons is he hiding underneath his cold exterior?
Whatever his secrets are, I need to remain impartial to his plight. I can’t let feelings get in the way of my dream of becoming a doctor. But, this path I’m heading down can only lead in disaster. A big fucking disaster.
I curl up in bed, my mind a complete wreckage from Houston’s actions. The actions I wanted so badly.
The next morning, I fret over seeing Houston in class. Will he be an ass? I make it my mission to be there early, foregoing doing my hair and just throwing it back in a low ponytail. A skirt? I debate a moment too long then decide on jeans and a long, black sweater. Matching the ensemble with my black boots with the heel, I step outside to grab the subway to school.
Butterflies take over my stomach as I think back to last night with Houston. Then, I remember the words of it’s a mistake.
It wasn’t a mistake for me.
When I enter the class, Houston stands tall at the front of the room. Arms crossed over his broad chest. His dark eyes seeking me out as if his life depends on it.
Heat washes over me as my lips lift into a small smile. And there it is, a genuine smile back. His whole face lights up like a firecracker. A dazzling light in his eyes, and then it’s gone.
“Hey, Marley,” a girl who sits next to me says as I find my seat.
“Hey, Sammy.”
“Professor Dale’s in a mood. We have a pop quiz today.”
Of course we do. Well, the smile is replaced by a scowl, but it doesn’t bother me. Seeing his first reaction to me is what sticks in my mind throughout the test.
After class my courage is sailing high in my bones, and I play around with my things waiting for everyone to leave.
He sits behind his desk, watching every step I take in his direction. He leans back, arms behind his head. I don’t make my way to him for any other reason than to get his flash drive to work on his lesson plans later today when I work for him.
“Hello, Professor,” I say, trying to remain emotionless. But, it’s so hard when he’s so close. I want to know him, to figure everything out.
He stands and touches my arm. “Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”
“Not physically.”
He drops my arm. “I’m sorry.”
I have so many questions. What was that last night? Why did he need that? But, I don’t ask any of them. Instead I offer up a simple ‘it’s ok’.
“It isn’t. I should have never taken advantage of you. I just can’t get you out of my mind.”
My heart flutters. “I can’t get you out of mine either.”
He falters for a moment. “I just have needs, and you seem to do it for me.”
“What are you asking of me?” I bite the bottom of my lip and he tenses up.
He lets out a breath, in almost a growl. “Sex. I want sex.”
My throat grows dry. “I, um…”
“Marley, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m not a conventional man, I can’t give you the things you want. But, I think you can give me the things I want.”
My eyes grow wide. “So like a nostrings deal?”
“Yeah.” He runs his hand over the back of his neck, and his charm is adorable even though I’m not sure how to handle his request.
I contemplate his words, and what he asks of me. “I’ll have to think about it.”
11
Here is a scene, I wanted him to go to Jennifer’s house. I felt they needed closure and he needed to see her to move on.
But, after thinking about it. He really had no reason at all to go there. He just shows up, and it didn’t really make sense. So, I added the part about them meeting on his son’s birthday each year at the grave instead. So, this scene is him going to Jennifer’s house after he told Marley. Near the end.
Houston
I hopped the first flight to O’Hare, packing only a few things when I left the city, I wasn’t expecting to be gone too long.
Hailing a cab to Jennifer’s house was easy. Getting out and knocking on the door was the hard part.
I wish I could say I hopped off the plane and headed right over here, like in some movie where the hero rushes to make everything right. But, I didn’t. I sat in a hotel room for four days pulling my strength together to face her. I didn’t know her anymore.
My heart races, banging against my ribcage. Every emotion in the book is coursing through my system, and I can’t handle much more.
I’ve squandered away any chance of Jennifer ever forgiving me. After our son died we both handled it differently. She cried, slept, and sunk into the deepest depression I could ever know. I wanted to be strong for her, but my anger and resentment got the best of me.
My whole world was crashing and burning around me, and together Jen and I couldn’t fix it. We couldn’t fix us.
I thought I loved her. And who knows, maybe at one point I did. But now, that’s just a wasted memory.
I take a deep breath, straightening the knot of my tie and bring my knuckles to rap at her red, wooden door.
The Chicago wind howls, and I tug my jacket tighter around me.
Funny how one person who is so important in your life at one point, becomes a complete stranger.
It’s my fault. I pushed her away, although she never tried to hold onto me either.
She opens the door and her black hair has grown longer. It’s swept off her shoulder into a braid.
Her smile is weak, but she looks good. Much better than the last time I saw her. An eerie feeling washes over me, and I awkwardly try to will it away.
She doesn’t notice, smiling softly, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Houston. I’m glad you came.”
“Me too.”
She steps aside, letting me enter her quaint cottage home. I remove my jacket and lay it across the table in the entryway.
“Come into the kitchen. I was making us something to eat.”
Us? I follow her into the large kitchen.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had anyone else here.”
“Yes, Stewart will be home soon.” She crosses to the white cabinets, taking out plates and glasses.
“Who’s that?”
She turns to face me, her eyes slowly finding their way to meet mine. Her blue apron hangs loosely over her jeans and she runs her hands against the material and I see the large diamond on her finger. “My fiancé.”
The blow of the impact isn’t as strong as I expected. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, how could you?” she asks moving around me. “My calls never get returned.”
“I’m sorry. It was just too hard.”
She softens her stance, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I know,” she whispers.
A silence falls over us and I’m at a loss for words.
The timer dings and she moves to fish out a lasagna from the oven.
“I was in denial for the longest time,” I tell her. “Like an alternate reality where I didn’t have to think every day. It was too hard.”
She cuts the food, then grabs a loaf of French bread and places it in the warm oven. “I know,” she says, turning to face me. “It was hard for me too, Houston. You weren’t the only one who lost him. I carried him for nine months and there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t miss him. That I don’t blame God for taking him from me.”
“It wasn’t God’s fault. It was mine.”
Confusion settles in her dark eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I should have driven him like I did every day. I shouldn’t have focused so much on my career.”
She gasps, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes fill with tears. “Houston, is that what you think?” She moves quickly around the island and wraps her arms around me.
“I should have tried harder with him. I shouldn’t have let him get into that car.�
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“Stop, you can’t do this.” She releases her hold on me so she can stare into my eyes. “It isn’t anyone’s fault. You didn’t know. You didn’t know. No one did.”
“I should have known. He was my son to protect.”
She shakes her head. “Houston, you can’t blame his death on what if’s. You can’t carry that burden.”
The guilt clings to my chest, crippling me as tears fall from her eyes.
“I should have known,” I repeat in a whisper.
“No,” she shakes her head, “no. You’re not guilty. I don’t blame you.” She brings me against her again as I shed a few tears of my own.
“All this time I felt you did blame me. I blame me.”
“I’ve never blamed you. I blamed myself for a long time until someone told me things happen we aren’t prepared for. Bad things happen to good people, and there’s no rhyme or reason to any of it. Nathan was my everything. But, he was only meant to grace us with his presence, because I believe he was needed more elsewhere.”
I never believed in God until I lost my kid to him. I need to believe I’ll see Nathan again. It’s a comforting thought I carry to bed at night.
The guilt I feel releases its hold, and I hold onto Jen tighter. A cough breaks us apart and I turn to see a man with red-brown hair and a beard.
I wipe the tears, and Jen does the same as we step away from each other.
“You must be Houston. Good to meet you,” Stewart says, holding his hand out to me.
“Nice meeting you as well.” I face Jen. “I should get going.” I walk away from the kitchen and Jen chases after me, reaching me before I’m at the front door.
“Houston. Thank you for coming over. I have something for you. I found it not too long ago, when I was cleaning out an old storage unit.” She rushes off into the back room as Stewart emerges from the kitchen. He smiles a warm-friendly smile my way, and I attempt a smile back.
When Jennifer returns, she holds a piece of blue construction paper in her hand. “He made this for you in school.”
I take the note from her and open it. I laugh, then cry. Scribbled on the paper in black and purple crayons is the sentence: My daddy is the best dad in the whole world. My daddy loves me and I love him.
I read, reread, and read again in the cab. I hug the note, bringing it tight to my chest as I smile. My son knew I loved him.
