Hot Lava

by Anne Conley

  “You got a beer?” Logan asked instead of answering the obvious question.

  “Sure. Come on back.” Elliot led Logan through the living room and kitchen and into a remodeled garage he used as his testosterone space. There was a keg, a pool table, and a couch. It was all Logan needed at the moment.

  “What’s happening?” Elliot poured Logan a beer and handed it over while he poured himself one.

  “Chavez had a stroke.”

  Those words were all that was necessary for Elliot to understand. They’d both cleaned up together, and Elliot knew how this job had changed Logan’s life. He knew how old Chavez was and what the man meant to Logan. Elliot understood without all the words.

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  Logan shrugged. “Nobody knows, man.” He chugged his beer. Not normally a chugger, Logan gave in to the desire to get hammered. He knew he wouldn’t. Not really. But he wanted to get a little impaired. He snorted at himself. There was no such thing.

  “Strokes are rough. Let me know what I can do.”

  They sat in silence for a while until Logan finally broke it, changing the subject.

  “There’s more than just that though. You know Katie? Runs the underwear shop on the square?” Elliot nodded, a small grin on his face. “What? What’s that smile about?” Logan stood to get another beer, knowing Elliot knew him better than anybody, and Logan knew exactly what the smile was about. Elliot was about to call him on his bullshit just like his team had.

  “I was wondering how long it would take.”

  “What would take?”

  “Before you settled down.”

  Logan turned to his friend, fresh beer in hand. “I can’t settle. Not like normal people.” There was no way he’d be able to live in a neighborhood, have kids, do the carpool thing, or have dinner parties. It was so foreign to him, but even as he had the thought, Katie came to mind, and Logan realized it didn’t sound so foreign anymore. It was familiar because he’d thought it his entire life. But attached to Katie’s face, it was a warm thought. Comforting almost. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

  Elliot was just laughing at him, so Logan drank the beer as quickly as he could.

  Katie was in the living room when she heard a loud crash from the kitchen. The boys were standing around a pile of crystal arguing over who’d done it.

  “Dude, you were supposed to hold it tighter.”

  “How was I supposed to know you were going to launch yourself at me, douche-nozzle?”

  “Doesn’t matter. My mom will shit.”

  Walter liked saying his mom would flip out. Truth was, Mom wouldn’t even care. Sure, it was a $1200 ice bucket from Tiffany and Co., but she’d never be home to notice it was gone.

  “What in the world were you guys doing with it anyway? It’s not midnight,” Katie joked, looking at the wall clock pointedly as three sets of eyes turned to her. She belted her robe tighter around her waist and got the broom from the pantry. They were supposed to be entrenched in the new video game package Mom and Dad had sent Walter when they’d sent Katie the ice bucket. Neither one of them wanted the things, they wanted their family. But whatever.

  “We were going to take some Cokes up to my room and needed some ice,” Walter answered meekly. “Sorry.”

  “No worries. I told Mom we didn’t need this when she sent it. A galvanized bucket would have been fine. She probably would have sent a platinum one of those though.” She stifled the eye roll, both at her mother’s thoughts on how Katie should keep the house with a teenaged boy and the teenaged boy in question.

  “There. Done. Now you guys just take your Cokes and go upstairs. When you need another one, send someone down for it.” She put up the broom and dustpan. “Use your legs. They’re perfectly healthy legs.”

  Grumbles and mutters met her ears, but there were no firm objections, so she left them to do their thing.

  Grabbing herself a mug, Katie decided to try her hand at hot cocoa, her memory of the first night at Logan’s filtering into her brain. That was one of the best nights ever. Not because of anything phenomenal, but just because it was something. She allowed herself to replay it over and over, getting warm and tingly all over. Her milk was bubbling around the edges, so she added it to the mug of cocoa powder and tasted it.

  “Blech!” That was disgusting. Sugar. She apparently needed to add sugar. She didn’t know chocolate powder wasn’t already sweet.

  “That good, huh? I was going to ask for some, but never mind now.” Startled, Katie spun around, sloshing hot milk all over her robe. Brant was standing there, one eyebrow cocked. She reached for a paper towel.

  “You scared me. I thought you guys went up to play video games.”

  “We did, but I finished my Coke already and came down for another one.” He took a step closer to her.

  Katie had known Brant for years, but he suddenly made her feel weird. His eyes held something besides “her brother’s friend” vibes, and the fact she wore a nightgown and robe that fell short of her knees in his presence was in the forefront of her mind. The interest he was suddenly showing her as he reached for the paper towel in her hand was pretty obvious, and she wasn’t about to let him wipe her down.

  “I got it. You go on back upstairs.”

  “I can help.” His voice had just dropped an octave, and Katie was embarrassed for him because he obviously wasn’t catching the hint.

  She sighed and side-stepped his advances. “Look, I get what you’re doing, and no, Brant. Go back upstairs.”

  He held his hands up in a gesture of feigned offense. “Whatever. Just thought you might want to train and mold me into the lover you want.”

  “Oh God, Brant! No! You’re a freaking kid!”

  “I’m legal.”

  “No. I’m not sure what the hell is going on in your head, but I said no, and in case Paula and Gary haven’t told you yet, when a woman says she’s not interested, you need to back off.” Her voice was a deceptively calm whisper, and she knew if Brant kept on, she’d have to call his parents.

  The doorbell rang just then, a long, peeling chime that normally grated on her nerves but right now was a welcome distraction. Who knew her parents’ pretention would save her the discomfort of rebuffing her kid brother’s friend’s advances?

  Brant sulked back upstairs as Katie went to answer the door swiping at the front of her robe as she walked.

  It was late. She wondered who would be ringing her doorbell at this hour, but when she opened the door, some of her questions were answered.

  Logan had come to her.

  But why? Was he using her for something like he had the other night? She tried to will away the indignation she’d felt the other morning, when he’d obviously wanted her to just go, but she couldn’t.

  Katie didn’t care about her anger as she looked at the rumpled jeans and t-shirt he’d been wearing this morning during class. She remembered the look on his face when he’d gotten the news about Captain Chavez and saw the glazed look in his eyes now as he swayed back and forth on planted feet.

  Logan was drunk.

  “Did you drive here?” The question was out of her mouth before she could draw it back. He shook his head.

  “No. Elliot just lives a couple of blocks away.” Then she was in his arms. Katie felt his warmth envelope her as he crushed her to him, dipping his head to her neck and inhaling fiercely. “Just … let me.”

  Katie acknowledged she would let this man do anything. He needed her right now, even if she didn’t know what he needed.

  The weight of his hands was positively delicious as he placed them around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. He clutched at her robe, hands straying up and down her spine. Commanding. Possessive. Dominating.

  She wanted to bend to his desires. She wanted to be what
he needed. Just … wanted. But she had no idea what that was right now.

  Her hands were on his shoulders, and she pushed him backward a bit so she could see his eyes.

  Katie licked her lips. “Sir,” she began hesitantly, “what can I do for you?”

  Clarity passed over his eyes, his mouth turning down at the corners slightly, and he clutched desperately on her robe, never actually touching her body.

  “Take me to your bedroom.” His hoarse whisper was guttural and full of desire.

  Holy shit. He needed her. The act of providing for Logan for once was heady and positively intoxicating.

  Wordless, she turned and reached for his hand and led him out of the living room, up the stairs, down her hallway opposite Walter’s, and to the end. They turned the corner, and he chuckled.

  “Wow. I knew you were loaded, but now I’m feeling intimidated.” His words stopped her.

  “My parents are loaded. I’m not rich.” The correction was futile though. It was clear he’d already judged her, so she continued down the short hallway to her suite of rooms.

  She’d decorated and furnished the rooms with all the discount and thrift store stuff she could find. Katie had made a point to only use her parents’ money for Walter’s needs—food and things like that. Her personal stuff came from the earnings from the shop. Her job. Everything extra went into a separate account for later. Someday, she might give it to her children or charity or something. For now, though, she didn’t use it.

  Closing the door after they entered her sitting room, Katie watched Logan for a reaction. Suddenly feeling exposed, as if he could see all her secrets by being in her inner domain, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  He walked around her room, stopping near her bookshelf as he made a soft noise in the back of his throat. He ran a finger over her dog-eared, broken-spined romance paperbacks she’d bought at the library sale.

  Every judgy word Katie had ever heard came rushing back to her in a tidal wave. Poor little rich girl, abandoned to take care of her brother by parents who didn’t give a shit. What did she do to make them leave her? Who took all their parents’ money and opened a panty store? What sort of woman did something like that when she was supposed to be an example for a teenaged boy?

  Her thoughts halted when Logan spun around and stalked toward her. Mouth dry, she watched as he opened his face to her. The vulnerability shone from him—in his stance, his walk, his beautiful face.

  She opened her arms and said the first thing she thought of. “Use me, Logan.” He had punished her and made her realize what she’d been doing for years. The least she could do was return the favor.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her but didn’t speak, the silence hanging thickly around them. “I have already, haven’t I?”

  “What?”

  “Last weekend. I used you. You’re not mad?”

  She took two steps toward him, the uncertainty in his features hauling her in like a rope.

  “I was. Not gonna lie. But it wasn’t because you used me. It was because you tossed me out.” A wry grin quirked her lips as she recalled the night in question. “Besides, you didn’t get much from that experience, did you?” Shyly, she reached for his belt, and he froze. Logan didn’t even breathe as she pulled the leather from the clasp.

  “I did.” His choked words crackled through the air, and Katie wondered what he was responding to. Did he get something out of her punishment she wasn’t aware of? Or was he just agreeing he’d cast her aside when he was finished with her?

  Tugging the belt backward to pull the prong out, the leather hissed through the buckle. She unsnapped his top button before he stilled her, covering it with his callused touch. She looked back up at him. “Let me give you something.”

  Slowly, as if at war with himself, he removed his hand from hers and dropped it to his side. Katie undid his zipper and fell to her knees.

  She was surprised to find him already hard in his jeans, and he didn’t have any underwear on.

  Katie smiled. Leave it to her to be in love with a man who went commando when underwear was how she made her living.

  But seeing his steely length had her mind going somewhere else altogether, and she felt a measure of pride that she’d done this to him.

  Before she got too cocky, she stuck out her tongue and licked his beautiful dick from balls to tip, tasting the salty drop on top. Logan let out a hiss and grabbed fistfuls of her hair. She took that as encouragement.

  “Jesus Christ, Katherine,” he groaned as he pistoned his hips and sent his cock all the way down her throat. She gagged, but he held himself there until she reflexively reached up and clasped his ass, her nails scratching him.

  He only called her Katherine when they were together, the name having been discarded when her parents left her, only for her to drag it back out when she went to that club. She had no idea why. When her mother used it, it sounded forced and put-upon. But when Logan used it, it sounded reverential.

  He pulled out, his cock covered with her saliva and his pre-cum, before shoving it back inside her mouth. She sucked and pulled on it, trying to wring a fraction of the pleasure from him that he’d taken from her. He set a pace, holding her hair, and she tugged with her mouth. His thrusts shallow, she pulled on his tip, swirling her tongue around, learning his noises and what he seemed to like.

  Katie scratched her nails down the backs of his thighs, trying to impart some communication to him that she enjoyed this usage of her mouth. He slammed back to the back of her throat, and she gagged again, but not as severely this time. His grunts became louder, and she pulled his ass cheeks apart.

  Katie explored the curves of the smooth ass she’d ogled plenty of times. Even while his dick was pumping in and out of her mouth, taking its pleasure, her hands wandered, taking hers.

  She inhaled his scent—beer and male musk. She tried not to think the dark thoughts that he was only doing this with her because he was drunk. He didn’t really like her, he was just using her as a warm hole because she lived within walking distance of Elliot’s house.

  Instead, she pretended this was happening because he liked her, at least somewhat.

  Meanwhile, he muttered sweet things to her. Things that gave her hope, breaking her heart with the improbability of their truth. “Sweet Katherine … God … So good … You’re perfect … Beautiful … Fucking perfect …”

  When he came, he held her face while his pelvis jerked. Pushing himself deep again, she felt him swell and pulse out his release, never giving her a choice to not take it. Not that she would have stopped. Katie wanted to taste his seed like she wanted to taste her favorite dessert. And as she sucked and licked, lapping up the remains as he caught his breath, she felt high.

  And then she was being hauled to her feet.

  “I don’t know what to do with you anymore.” And then his mouth was on hers. It was brutal. It was angry. It was all-consuming and perfect.

  Logan crushed his lips against hers and swooped his tongue into her mouth as if he wanted to taste himself on her. His tongue conquered hers as they dueled. Katie moaned into his mouth, realizing this was their first kiss.

  Clutching her backside, his hands were like steel bands while his mouth melded to hers, claiming her. Ruining her completely.

  Yep. Katie was now done with all other men because there was no way any others would compare. Logan broke the kiss and spun her around so her back was against his hard front, and he slipped his hands into her robe, covering and squeezing her breasts.

  “Do you always answer the door in shit like this? Silky next-to-nothings that make a man hard just by thinking about it?” His voice was a menacing growl in her ear before he nipped her earlobe.

  “No,” she whimpered, arching her back to press against him. “I was glad for the distraction from—”

  He tweake
d her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, the pinch making her moan as riotous sensations bloomed in her belly.

  “Distraction from what?”

  “Brant was hitting on me in the kitchen.” Katie spoke the words fast, trying to get them out so she didn’t have to dwell on them. The kid she’d known for years as her brother’s pesky friend was not who she wanted to think about now that Logan was finally in her space with his hands on her body.

  “I guess I need to mark you as mine if I have a hope of other men not setting their sights on you.” He dipped his head to her neck and started sucking, the pull and heat from his mouth making the words not come together in a sensible way. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  She pointed to the door in front of her, and he lifted her straight off the floor, not turning her, not doing anything except saving her the six steps to her bedroom. Her feet dangled until they got inside and he’d kicked the door closed behind them. He loosened his grip on her body enough for her to slide down his front, feeling every single exquisite ridge of muscle on his body.

  “I like the silky stuff, but nobody else needs to see it.”

  She nodded her agreement, her words gone to wherever her air went, even though it wasn’t a question at all.

  Logan pulled her robe off her shoulders, stretching her arms behind her and tying them with the belt. With her arms trapped behind her, tits jutting out against the satin of her gown, she felt helpless.

  And she liked it. A strange mewling sound came from her as Logan gently pushed her to the foot of her bed. “Bend over.”

  His hand on her back told her exactly how to do it, exactly what he wanted and needed. Katie complied, and he started rubbing her body—down her sides, her back, over the globes of her ass as he lifted her nightie, down her legs, and all the way back up. He pressed his erection against her backside, and Katie couldn’t stop herself from pushing back against him. A muttered curse met her ears, and the rip of a plastic package signaled the condom he was putting on.

  Grabbing a fistful of hair, Logan snapped her head back while pressing down on her back with his other hand.