He pulled back slightly, his mouth a hairbreadth from my own. I inched forward, chasing that mouth, but he kept himself just out of reach, pulling his head back, making me come after him, tormenting me, forcing me to take what I wanted. Dimly I realized this, but I didn’t care. Not anymore. I was past caring. I only needed.
With a frustrated moan, I grabbed his face in both hands and held him still for me. It was a giddy, headlong dive into sensation. I kissed him. I took. I claimed. Like before. He had sparked a fire inside me and those flames were burning hot now. I did what I wanted.
I sucked on his top lip, my tongue finding that dent at the center . . . tasting it, loving it, savoring it with my lips, tongue, and teeth.
My hands drifted down from his face, fingers curling into his shirt, bunching the fabric in tight fists as I rubbed my tongue against his. He made a growling sound and backed me up until we collided into the door with a thud, rattling the hinges and knob.
I should have cared at the sound, at the noise we were making—anyone passing could hear and wonder. But I didn’t. I didn’t care. I only felt.
The naughtiness and savagery of it thrilled me. I was making out in a bathroom in a house full of people with a guy who wasn’t even my date.
I was wild and free and totally reckless.
His fingers curled around my wrists and lifted them off his shoulders. In one fast move, he pinned my hands against the door on either side of my head.
A small gasp escaped me. He lifted his head to look at me, his eyes so smoldering I felt their burn, their power as effective as his hard body trapping me against the door.
I tried to tug my hands down so that I could touch him again, but he held them fast. He shook his head once at me, sending a clear message. I wasn’t to move my hands. I was under his control.
My feminine hackles bristled at this show of dominance, but another part of me stirred, responding to his command over my body.
He kissed me again then. His hands slid down my arms. When I started to lower my arms, he snatched my hands back and held them to the door. “Keep them there.”
I obeyed, butterflies erupting in my belly.
Suddenly it dawned on me. This was him. The not-good, not-wholesome guy he had mentioned on the futon in my apartment. It was his hands pinning me hard to the door. I was staring at him, my eyes wide open and absorbing every inch of him as his lips ravaged mine.
The pressure of his mouth increased. His lips grew more demanding, his tongue a deeper tangle with mine as his bigger body pushed even closer against me.
I felt his cock through our clothes, the hardness grinding into my stomach and everything in me liquefied.
His hands resumed their slow descent and this time I didn’t move mine. I kept them against the wall, a true feat as his passed down my rib cage and then came around to claim my breasts.
I cried out, the sound swallowed up in his mouth as his hands molded to my breasts through the thin fabric of my dress. His fingers unerringly found my nipples through the fabric, pinching and rolling. Bolts of pleasure-pain lanced through me.
His hands moved with purpose. Sure, swift, and just a little rough. I never knew it could be like this—I never knew I wanted it to be.
He bent slightly, his erection grinding right where I most needed him. I moaned again into his mouth.
A heaviness pooled in my muscles and my arms began to weaken and shake, slipping from where I held them against the wall.
As if he sensed their movement, his hands slammed mine back into place against the wall, his voice a hard rasp against my mouth. “Leave. Them. There.”
“Oh.”
It was the only sound, the only word I could make. My panties were wet. I would have been embarrassed if I wasn’t so turned on. I moaned into his mouth, clinging to his top lip, then his bottom, then warring my tongue with his again.
His hands left my breasts and slid down, bunching my hem in his hands and dragging my dress up around my hips. His lips moved against mine as he spoke. “I have wanted to do this ever since you first kissed me.”
Before I could fully understand what this referred to, he slid his big body down mine and hooked one of my thighs over his shoulder. He traced a finger against the crotch of my panties. Heat scorched my cheeks because I knew he knew how much I wanted him now. As if he didn’t have a clue before.
He made a groaning sound and looked up at me, his eyes heavy-lidded and full with the promise of delicious things to come. “You’re so hot, baby.” He pulled my panties aside so that I was exposed to the air, his gaze. It was shocking, and the most exposed I’d ever felt, but I was so aroused I couldn’t move. Couldn’t try to cover myself from his eyes. His touch.
Still watching me, he rubbed a single finger over me, gliding it against my moisture until he found that spot. The spot that Harris never seemed to know even existed. Logan found it instantly and pressed down, rolling it slowly. Eyes fastened on my face, he bent his head and placed his mouth there until all I could see was his dark blond head. All I could feel was his lips and tongue, sucking and pulling on my clit, drawing it deep between his teeth. My head dropped back on the door and a shudder built, working its way up my body from where his mouth devoured me.
I brought a hand down, helpless, unable to stop my fingers from lacing through his hair.
I turned my head sideways and caught sight of us in the mirror. Me with my leg thrown over his shoulder and his head buried between my thighs, my fingers speared through his hair. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. My eyes looked fogged over . . . like they belonged to someone else entirely.
His mouth eased its pressure on me and I almost wept. So close. I was so close. My grip tightened on his hair as his tongue lightly played on my clit, the teasing strokes tormenting me.
I whimpered his name and he paused to look up at me.
His eyes went dark at whatever he saw in my face. “What do you want, Pearls? Do you want me to lick you harder?”
I nodded.
He ducked back down and drew me into his mouth with a deep, savoring pull. Still, it wasn’t enough and he knew it. My hips lifted in an effort to give him more of me, but he just lifted his gaze back to mine. “You want my mouth to fuck you?”
Oh. My. God.
My chest squeezed tight and I remembered his promise to say dirty things to me. He’d meant it.
I nodded.
“Let me hear you say it then, Pearls. Say: Fuck me with your mouth.”
I gulped. Oh. God.
His hand tightened where he held my thigh, each of his fingers an individual brand.
I moistened my lips and God help me if his blue eyes didn’t follow my tongue and darken even more. I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “Fuck me with your mouth.”
My voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to me. It sounded tinny and faraway. Like I was some other girl pinned against a door with a hot guy between her thighs. And I was. This was not Georgia Robinson from Muskogee, Alabama. I wasn’t the lauded Principal Robinson’s daughter.
His mouth was on me again, and I bit my lip to stop from crying out. My head dropped back, rattling the door as my orgasm welled up inside me.
He knew exactly what to do. His lips and tongue flayed me until short gasps burst from my lips. I arched my spine off the door, my fingers splaying wide in his hair. The coil twisted and tightened as he worked me over.
A knock thumped on the door behind me. “Georgia, you in there?”
I slapped a hand over my mouth at the sound of Emerson’s voice, but Logan didn’t stop. If anything, his attentions grew more persistent, frantic, and hungry. He eased a finger inside me as his mouth lapped and sucked at me.
I shattered inside, shudders working up through me as Emerson knocked again, vibrating the wood behind me.
“Georgie?
“Be out in a second,” I croaked as Logan stood with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, letting my dress flutter back down over my thighs.
My chest heaved. I couldn’t meet his eyes. His fingers grasped my chin and forced me to look at him. “You go out first. I’ll follow later.”
I nodded jerkily and turned around, slipping out the door, my legs shaky as a leaf in the wind, but at least I was escaping his too-knowing stare.
Only that brought me face-to-face with Emerson.
“You okay?” Her keen gaze traveled over me.
I nodded, blocking the door. “Yes, fine, thanks.”
“You’ve been gone awhile.” She smiled ruefully. “Not hiding from your date, are you?”
I had forgotten about Connor. “Something like that.”
“I knew you weren’t into him.”
I shrugged. “He’s nice . . . and we’ve been spending a lot of time together this summer.” I wasn’t even sure what I was saying. My body was still reeling from the aftereffects of my first orgasm. There’d been close calls before. I had even thought it had maybe happened a time or two, but now I knew. It had never happened before. Even after years of having sex with Harris, I had never had an orgasm
Until tonight.
Em’s voice recaptured my attention. “Don’t fall into another boring as hell relationship, Georgia. Please?”
My cheeks stung thinking of what I had just done with Logan—what I had just let happen to me. It was a far cry from boring.
I nodded. Maybe too vigorously. Stepping forward, I grasped Emerson’s arm. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t be diving back into another relationship, boring or otherwise,” I assured her, eager to lead her away from the bathroom. “C’mon. I’m hungry.”
She resisted, pulling back on her arm. She jerked a thumb behind her. “I need to use the bathroom.”
The bottom of my stomach fell out. “Uh . . .” My gaze flipped from her to the door and back again. “Nah, come on and get a margarita with me.”
“Well, wait a second and I’ll join you.” Her hand moved for the doorknob and I gave her a hard pull, desperation making me less than subtle at this point.
She angled her head and gave me a funny look. “Georgia, what—”
The door opened then and Logan stepped out, his face expressionless. There was no smile. Nothing in his eyes that revealed what had just happened. He looked normal and casual and not like he was stepping out from a bathroom where he had rocked my world.
“What. The. Hell.”
My gaze swung to Emerson. She was staring daggers at Logan and looking at me like she didn’t know me at all.
“Don’t tell anyone.” The words tumbled from my mouth. “Don’t tell Pepper.”
Pepper would tell Reece. I didn’t expect her to keep secrets from him. And Reece could not know. This was of vital importance. The only person I could want to not know more was my own mother.
I could well imagine Reece ripping into Logan under the assumption that his younger brother had somehow taken advantage of me. I didn’t want that. He might have followed me into the bathroom and started this tonight, but I had wanted this. Since that first kiss, we had been heading toward this.
Emerson looked uncertainly between us. “It’s no one’s business what you do . . .” She stepped forward and jabbed Logan in the chest. “But just so you know. You fuck her over and you can kiss your balls good-bye.”
Logan nodded, looking unfazed at the threat. “Understood.”
“Emerson,” I croaked, heat flooding my face.
She nodded as though satisfied, her features relaxed into a less severe expression. She stepped close to say into my ear. “Jesus. And here I was worried you were sliding into a pit of perpetual dullness. Just be careful.”
That said, she slipped inside the bathroom.
I breathed easier. She hadn’t said the words, but I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone.
Facing Logan again, I was startled to find his expression no longer casual. He looked pissed. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone either. No one needs to know that you’re fucking around with Reece’s little brother. It will be our dirty little secret.”
I shook my head. “Logan—”
“Go back to your date, Georgia.”
My date. The reminder hit me with a pang. I had forgotten about him again.
“Logan,” I repeated, reaching for his arm, but he pulled it away.
“I primed you. Maybe he can finish you off tonight. Just don’t expect him to fuck you like I would.”
I flinched and without thinking my hand lashed out, slapping him soundly across the cheek.
His face gave the barest turn from the force before righting to look me over, his deep blue eyes drilling me. “Nice, Pearls.” He fingered his cheek. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
I stared, horrified. I don’t. I don’t have it in me, I wanted to say.
And yet it was a hard thing to argue when I had just in fact slapped him.
I had never struck another person. As in ever. Not even Amber when she overfed my hamster and killed it. It was just another first, courtesy of Logan Mulvaney. What would be next if I continued to do whatever it was I was doing with him?
A heavy pause full of wild emotions I couldn’t even name pulsed like a heartbeat between us. Crazy as it sounded, I still wanted him. More than ever. I wanted him to grab me and pin me to the wall again. God, I was messed up. He’d insulted me. I’d slapped him. These were not normal things two people who liked each other did. And then I understood. Liking had nothing to do with it. This was wanting. Desire. Lust.
He turned away then, his big body striding down the hall, his steps thudding over the wood flooring.
“Great,” I muttered, standing there for a moment, wishing I could call him back and erase that last couple minutes. Wishing I could explain the real reason I didn’t want Reece to know. That I was only looking out for Logan. Well, partly. True, I wanted to spare him an ass-ripping by Reece. Partly. But there was a part of me that was embarrassed, too. I could pretend and lie to him but not myself.
After a few more moments, I headed down the hall, not wanting to face Emerson again when she emerged from the bathroom. She probably hadn’t heard the slap or she would have flung that door open and followed up with a slap of her own. I eased back into the crowd halfheartedly, searching for my date. At least pretending to. Really, my gaze sought Logan, skipping over faces. I didn’t see him anywhere—or Rachel for that matter. Had they left?
I located Connor sitting on a barstool, talking to one of Pepper’s coworkers from the daycare where she worked part-time. He smiled brightly when I arrived at his side, and I felt yet another pang of guilt.
I wished I hadn’t brought him. It felt so wrong. Especially now. I had just made out with Logan in the bathroom while Connor sat out here eating fajitas and queso, oblivious to the fact of what I was doing . . . and that we had no future. At least romantically. We were colleagues. Plain and simple. I needed to set the record straight with him tonight.
I fixed a plate and picked at my food, feeling Emerson’s stare on me from where she stood with Shaw. My appetite had fled, but I attempted to put on a good show. I joined in the toasts celebrating Pepper and Reece’s new house. No one (except for Emerson) seemed aware that I was quieter than normal.
When Pepper came to stand beside me, I casually managed to mention Logan. I couldn’t help it. Standing there, parts of me still throbbing and tingling from the things he did to my body, I couldn’t hold it in.
“Reece’s brother leave?”
“Yeah, he and Rachel had another thing to go to.”
“What’s the story with Rachel?” I was fishing. I had Logan’s explanation of their relationship but I wanted another version.
“She’s his best friend. Ever since they were kids. Her brother died
when she was twelve. They just gravitated toward each other after that. I think Logan got what she was going through and she attached herself to him like coral on rock. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s leaving her behind for college.”
“She’s attending school locally?”
“If at all. Her parents don’t care what she does with her life.”
“Then I’m glad she has Logan.”
Pepper looked at me and I realized that must have sounded more invested than just someone making casual inquiries.
“Their friendship has been a good thing for the most part, it served them both . . . Reece hasn’t always been there for Logan. First he went away to school, and then took over the bar. And God knows their father hasn’t been an ideal parent. Reece regrets that. He feels like he failed Logan . . . left him to raise himself. But it’s time for Logan to stop saving everyone else. His dad. Rachel. He needs to follow his own path.” She sighed then.
I didn’t miss how she said their friendship was good for the most part. “Why do I feel like there’s a but in there somewhere?”
She winced and gave a quick nod. “Rachel is a bit of a wild child. Boys, booze. When they were fourteen, Logan found her after she swallowed a bunch of pills. He called an ambulance and then made her puke, trying to get her to empty her stomach.” Pepper shook her head with a shudder. “No one should have to do that. Can you imagine being fourteen and walking in on that? Her parents weren’t around as usual. Logan showed up because she had missed school. Thank God for her he did.”
I released a shaky breath, imagining a young Logan bent over Rachel, shaking her to life, making her puke. It was just another picture at odds with the Logan I thought I knew. I spread them all out in front of me like snapshots—jock, teacher, writer. Hero.
“Hey.” Pepper nudged me. “Don’t share that with anyone, okay? Not that you would, but Reece told me that and I doubt Logan wants people knowing that about Rachel.” She released a small puff of laughter. “He works so hard putting up a front that everything’s great.”
Wild: The Ivy Chronicles Page 12
