by Ella Brooke
I open my mouth wider and relax my tongue, just as he said. He pushes my head downward, forcing more of himself inside my warm, wet cave. It’s like trying to swallow a cucumber whole, and my throat balks a little as it reaches the back of my tongue, but I fight the reflex and concentrate on the sensation of his slick cock filling my mouth.
He starts to thrust gently with his hips, at the same time holding my head fast, and I realize it’s just like fucking, only with my mouth. I tighten my lips around his shaft, feeling the ridges of veins and stiff muscle gliding in and out. Logan has a big cock, but incredibly it’s swelling even larger now, and I wonder just how big this man can get.
Logan groans. “That’s so fucking good, baby… now hold it against the roof of your mouth and suck hard.”
He lies still while I try this, slipping my tongue underneath his shaft and pressing it upward, trapping the delectable knob of head in the domed space at the top of my mouth. I suck it in a series of hard pulses, and it reminds me of trying to pull one of those ridiculously thick McDonald’s milkshakes up through a straw. I smile inwardly at this silly comparison, but the idea of consuming Logan turns me on with a vengeance.
“God, baby… that’s it…” he moans, his breath coming hard and fast. “Don’t stop… I’m gonna come, baby… so you either have to swallow or let me come on your face.”
I can’t say a word with his giant cock in my mouth. I want every precious bit of him I can get, so I know which one I’ll choose. His body tenses, and suddenly his warm seed jets into me with the force of a fire hose. I panic as there’s more liquid than I can swallow all at once. Some of it escapes out from the corners of my mouth as I struggle to take it all in.
“Holy fuck…” I hear him almost shout into the steamy air that’s filled the cab.
I suck and swallow until his flow ebbs, and his beautiful cock relaxes. I lick the last remnants of cum from the sides and then gently kiss the tip of it. His chest rumbles with satisfied laughter, and he strokes my hair, slipping the long strands through his fingers.
“That was fucking awesome,” he says. “You’ll definitely earn a Master’s in fellatio.”
“Do I get a good grade, coach?” I tease.
“Fucking A-plus, honey. With honors.”
“You taste like sugar and salt at the same time,” I say, as though noting the results of a lab experiment. I suppose I’ll never lose the habit of analyzing and recording my observations.
Logan chuckles. “Is that right? Do you know what you taste like?”
“How can I know that?” I blush slightly. Taste myself? How was that possible?
He smiles and straightens from his slouching position. “Well, why don’t you take your panties off and I’ll show you.”
I’ve taken to wearing skirts on my “babysitting” nights as it makes things much quicker and easier.
“Yes, sir,” I say, grinning. He watches with hungry eyes as I kneel on the seat and reach up under my skirt. I pull my skimpy thong slowly down my thighs, then sit back to slip it and my skirt off my legs completely and toss them on the floor of the cab. Logan lets out a low growl and pushes me down on my back.
“I’m gonna eat you up, girl.” He places each of my feet on his shoulders, and I shiver in anticipation, my wet pussy exposed to the air. He lowers his head between my thighs, and I moan in ecstasy as he parts the curls of my pubic hair and his tongue finds my precious, needy bud. Instinctively I spread my knees wider apart to give him access.
I’m nearly undone already with the first few passes of his tongue across my clit. I take hold of his hair the same way he did mine, feeling its luxurious thickness between my fingers. He buries his face in my wetness, his lips, nose, and tongue all vying for their portion of my pussy meal. My clit is throbbing as he nudges and wiggles, the sensations a thousand times more powerful than the simple prodding of my own hand. I can’t hold back another second. I nearly pull his hair out as I surrender to orgasm with a wailing cry, “Logan…!”
His lips close around my bud, sucking gently as I ride out the waves of ecstasy. The next thing I know, he’s leaning over me, our lips hovering just millimeters apart.
“Here’s how you taste to me,” he whispers, then smothers me with a searing kiss, my juices coating both our faces. I’ve never felt anything so wildly erotic as our lips slip and slide in the slick product of my arousal. I know I’ll never want another man after Logan. He’s spoiled me for every other male on Earth. I think I love him, but don’t dare tell him so.
Darkness has fallen as we lie together on the seat of his truck in silence, our combined breathing clouding up every inch of windshield. The movie has started and illuminates blurry patches of light through the misted glass as it flickers. I have no idea what’s playing and care even less. All that matters is the man I’m with and the powerful feelings he stirs in me. I want to know everything about him, not just his body, as stellar as it is. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.
“Logan,” I whisper.
“What, honey.”
“What happened to Rose’s mother?”
He’s silent for a long moment, which tells me a lot, knowing what I know about human behavior. Clearly a subject he’s uncomfortable with, but I need to know.
“She’s not in the picture, Quinn.”
“I can see that. But why? I know it’s none of my business but…”
“She left,” Logan says quickly, as though to put an end to the conversation before it even begins. “Not long after Rose was born.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling snubbed by his terse answer. Now I’m certain the history isn’t a good one, but it’s hurtful for him to shut me out like this. He must realize the bigger question at hand, and why I need to ask it. “Did you have a difficult divorce?”
“We were never married,” he says, raising his head. “I’ve never been married—if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Partly,” I admit. “I guess I just feel sad that Rose doesn’t have her mom around.”
Again, he falls silent for a long moment.
“We do just fine without her,” he finally says.
I hear the defensiveness in his voice, and the psychologist in me rises again. “Sounds like she must have hurt you very much.”
“Jolene didn’t want kids. We didn’t plan it. Rose came along before we knew it. Then she took off. End of story.”
I wince inside; hearing a name makes her all too real. Jolene. I can’t imagine why any woman would abandon her own child, or this wonderful man holding me close in his arms.
“She left you just like that? With a newborn baby? Oh, Logan, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for you.”
“Trust me, it was a good thing. She was an addict. She loved a needle and a bottle more than she loved either of us.”
“I can’t imagine you with someone like that,” I say, my heart breaking for him. “And she’s never tried to make contact?”
“Not until recently. She went into rehab and claims to be reformed, but I’m not buying it. There’s no way I’ll allow her to see Rose.”
“It may not be up to you, Logan. If she goes to the courts, she may have rights.”
“I don’t give a damn about her rights,” he replies, raising his voice. “As far as I’m concerned she forfeited any rights when she turned her back on us.”
He’s angry and hurt, and I want to help him. It’s what I’ve studied and trained for all these years. “It’s hard to believe that any mother could turn her back on her own child. But it happens. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Huh. Seems to happen a lot in my family,” Logan scoffs. “I did just fine without a mother most of my life. And Rose will, too.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, puzzled. “You have a mother… isn’t Rose staying with your mom right now?”
Logan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as though he’s developing a headache. “Yes. But she only came back into our lives after Rose was born. Afte
r thirty years of buggering off on me, she suddenly she took an interest in child-rearing when she learned she had a granddaughter. Go figure.”
The pain that Logan’s hidden inside himself is overwhelming and my heart aches for him. To have been so betrayed by the very people that should love you the most. “What about your dad? Are you in touch with him?”
“My father,” Logan says slowly, “… was shot and killed in a street fight when I was ten years old. That’s when my mom ran off—she couldn’t handle his death or the fact that I reminded her of him. Been pretty much on my own since then. I met Jolene in a group home a few years later. We were both more or less orphans, so we stuck together for awhile. The rest is history.”
By now my mind is reeling, shocked at the terrible revelations that he’s sharing with me. I’m in tears, and I want to take all his pain away; show him that there’s someone he can believe in and trust.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked…” I choke back a sob. “Forgive me.”
Logan pulls us both to sit up and cradles me in his arms, though it should be me comforting him. I bury my face in the soft flannel of his shirt, crying.
“Shhh… it’s alright,” he whispers. “Can’t change the past. I’d rather look to the future. And you’ve got your whole future ahead of you. I’m sure it’s going to be a bright one.”
His words sound like he doesn’t plan on being around to see it, and the thought of a future without him cuts through my heart like a knife. I have to tell him how I feel.
“Logan,” I say, lifting my tear-tracked face to meet his. “I love you. I want you to be my future.”
Chapter Eight
Logan
This was a Bad Idea
I rest my chin on her head as I stroke Quinn’s soft blonde hair. I think of her silky skin and juicy tits and eager pussy that I’ve plundered relentlessly for all these weeks, and I’m paralyzed with guilt. It’s driven through my spine like a steel rod and pinned me to the ground with three simple words.
I love you.
She can’t possibly understand the meaning of real love. Hell, I don’t even know if I understand it. I can’t say that I’ve ever known it, or given it. Her words are those of an impressionable, love-struck girl who’s been seduced—by an idea, by a sad story, and by a careless man old enough to know better. Old enough to be her father. My guts twist as I picture Frederick—happily dispensing advice and friendship over a wooden fence, blissfully ignorant to the fact I’m defiling his beautiful daughter practically under his nose.
This has gone too far. Revealing my pathetic past was just the latest mistake in a long line of mistakes. It’s triggered Quinn’s compassion and a false sense of intimacy, and it has to stop right now. For her own good. That bright future can’t be dragged down by an emotionally damaged piece of baggage like me. What was I thinking taking up with a woman half my age anyway? That’s my problem. Thinking with my glands instead of my brain.
I gaze out the darkened windows of my truck and realize I haven’t answered her. She’s waiting to hear the same words in return, and I can’t give them to her.
“God, you’re sweet,” I say, and I kiss the top of her head. “I don’t deserve you.” Quinn snuggles closer and squeezes me tight. I hope that’s enough of an answer for now, but I’ll have to tell her the truth sooner or later. That it’s done. Over. And she’ll hate me for it.
“Can we go back to your place now?” she asks. “Since we have it all to ourselves… I want to go to bed with you.”
“Good idea,” I say, not because it’s a good idea but because I need to get us out of here and back to the real world. We’ve been stuck in a fantasy far too long already, and there’s no room for fairy tales in real life.
She searches the floor for her discarded panties and skirt as I start the engine, and I’m already rehearsing the painful words I’ll need to say to her in my mind. She’ll be furious, and Rose will be heartbroken. She’s gotten very attached to Quinn, but it would be just too awkward to have her babysit anymore under the circumstances.
Quinn settles against me as we drive home, and I ache inside knowing what I’ve done to her and that I’ll never feel her warmth or her kisses again. The fact I have to break it off doesn’t mean I won’t miss her. Our sex has been incredible because I’ve taught her everything she knows; molded her into my own private temple virgin. I’ve ruined her, and for that, I feel guiltiest of all.
“It’s good that you’re patching things up with your mom,” Quinn says out of the blue. “So that Rose can know her grandma. I didn’t know mine.”
“Me neither.” The question takes me by surprise. I barely knew my own parents, much less grandparents. If I had any, they certainly never came around. I don’t really want to talk about it, and I’ve already told her more than I wanted to about my shitty childhood. “You’ve never mentioned your mother,” I add, not wanting to pry but seeing an opportunity to change the subject.
“She died. In a car accident two years ago.”
Shit. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you close?”
“Very. She was kind and beautiful. We miss her very much.”
I don’t doubt it if she’s anything like her daughter. “Sounds like you have some good memories. That’s more than I can say.”
“You can still have good memories if you try.” Quinn looks up at me. “You should try, not just for Rose’s sake, but for your own. Before it’s too late. You never know how much time you have.”
We ride in silence the rest of the way back to Scottsdale, her profound words puncturing the self-made armor around my tortured soul. She’s right, but I’m still too stubborn to just forgive and forget. Quinn may be young and inexperienced, but she has a bigger heart than I’ll ever hope to have. I know she’ll be a great mother someday for some lucky child. Luckier than Rose or me.
I turn onto our street, and my pulse quickens at the unsettling sight of strobe lights from a police cruiser up ahead. Quinn sees them too and straightens herself for a better look.
“I wonder what’s going on up there?” she says.
As we get nearer, my stomach drops into my toes when I realize it’s parked in front of my house. “What the fuck…” I swear under my breath.
“Oh my God, there’s my dad.” Quinn cups her hands to her mouth in horror.
I pull over, and not only is Frederick standing on my lawn talking to the cops but Lila as well. “And there’s my mother,” I say, equally freaked out. Where the hell is Rose?! my panicked mind screams. The lights are on inside the house, and the door is wide open. I jump out of the truck and make a beeline for Lila. Frederick spots Quinn get out of the passenger side and moves off to intercept her. He’s going to be furious, but I can’t get involved in that altercation right now.
“Where’s Rose?” I shout. Lila turns, and with a wave of relief, I see she’s holding Rose bundled up in a blanket, half-asleep.
“Oh, Logan, thank God you’re here,” Lila cries.
“What’s going on? Why didn’t you phone me?”
“I did. It went to voicemail,” she says defensively.
I swear and grab the cell phone from my pocket. Dead as a brick. Fuck. “What the hell is going on?” I ask the cop.
“Sir, there’s been a break and enter. Your neighbor witnessed it and called us to investigate,” the young constable explains. “Whoever it was has left the scene. A window was broken, but no other apparent damage. If anything’s been stolen, make sure you report it to us immediately.” I look over at Frederick, who is questioning Quinn over on their side of the lawn. Shit. He thought she was babysitting. We’re sprung for sure, and I hope he doesn’t own a shotgun.
“It was Jolene,” Lila pipes up. “She came to my place, demanding to see Rose. She was furious that you’d moved but still had my address. Luckily Rose was already in bed, so I told her I didn’t know where she was and asked her to leave. She’s crazy, Logan. Her eyes were wild, and she was screaming her head off.”
&nbs
p; “That doesn’t surprise me. But how did she find the house? You didn’t give her this address did you?” I asked, my voice rising in concern. Lila’s mouth was easily loosened with a few glasses of wine, but surely she wouldn’t be drinking when she had Rose in her care? She knows I’d revoke the grandma card in a heartbeat if she did.
“No.” Lila shakes her head emphatically. “But there was a pile of mail by the door that I’d collected from your old place. I’d readdressed it all and… she grabbed it and ran off. I’m so sorry… I had no idea she’d turn up.”
“Of course you didn’t.” How could she? I’d never even told her Jolene was out of rehab. I take Rose from her, a sleepy whine issuing from inside the blankets.
“I got Rose up and drove over here. I was afraid Jolene would set the house on fire or something,” Lila continued.
I wouldn’t have put it past her. In spite of the messy outcome, Lila had made a good call. “Looks like everything’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You go on home, I’ll put Rose to bed.” I turn to the officer. “Thanks for your help. I’ll be sure to call if anything is missing.”
“Goodnight, sir,” the cop says and returns to his cruiser.
Lila wrings her hands, clearly distressed by the whole ordeal. “Screwed up on my first try as a grandma. I’m so sorry, son.”
Son. She’s never called me that, and I’m not sure I want her to start. Choosing booze and her lowlife lovers over me for nearly three decades hasn’t earned her that privilege. I’ve been calling her by her first name for as long as I can remember. But she’s trying, and I’d rather have her in my daughter’s life than whacked-out Jolene.
“You’ll give me another chance, won’t you?” she asks anxiously.
You never know how much time you have. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say. “Goodnight, Lila.”
Lila gives me a relieved smile. “Goodnight, Logan.”
I turn away and start toward the house, the first seeds of forgiveness beginning to sprout. I have to start somewhere. But as I see Quinn and her dad still arguing, my guilt meter spikes off the chart, bringing me back to reality. I’m involved whether I like it or not, so I walk toward the pair of them to set the story straight, and at least thank the man for calling the police.
