by R. C. Martin
My phone rings before I can respond and I grumble when I look at the caller ID and see Daphne calling—again. “Hello?” I answer, my grip still tight around my wife.
“You tell that wife of yours that if she doesn’t get her little ass out the door in five minutes, we’re leaving! I didn’t leave Caroline to spend the night waiting around in a car.”
“We’re on our way,” I announce before ending the call. “No,” I mutter, picking up our conversation where we left off. I press a kiss against Logan’s shoulder as I reach into the closet for her coat. “I don’t want any ink on your back. But if anyone so much as lays a hand on you—”
She spins around, immediately silencing me with a kiss. I groan, pulling her against me tighter still. “I love you so much,” she whispers against my lips.
“I love you so much, too.”
Before I know it, her tongue is in my mouth and one of her legs is hitched up around my thigh. A purely animalistic sound crawls its way out of my chest as my free hand glides over her backside, pulling her aggressively against my hard length. She moans, gripping the lapels of my jacket, and I’m sure that if I don’t stop this kiss right now, she’ll be completely naked in seconds.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I grunt, forcing myself to take a step back. I lick my lips, tasting the sweetness of her lip gloss as I hold up her coat. She doesn’t say a word in reply. Instead, she winks at me, pulling at the hem of her dress before she turns around and slides her arms into the sleeves.
I grab my coat, folding it over my arm as I reach for her hand. It’s definitely too hot in here to be worried about a coat. Besides, I need a minute to calm down, and some sort of a shield is necessary if we’re to make our exit now.
“You ready?”
“Absolutely. Let’s go ring in the New Year, baby.”
Damn. Still love it when she calls me baby.
The opera house where the party resides is beautiful. Everything is decorated in white and gold, and there are lights and balloons strung up everywhere. My eyes are drawn to the gorgeous chandeliers that are scattered around the grand foyer, filled with the attendees of tonight’s celebration.
I love a good light fixture. I seriously cannot help myself.
I hear Roman’s soft chuckle as he presses a kiss against my temple and wraps his arm around my waist. “Come on. Let’s check our coats.”
“Oh, my god,” Daphne gasps, catching my attention. She looks up at Trevor with a worried expression on her face and my brow furrows in concern. “I forgot to tell Grace that Care can’t sleep without her stuffed wolf. Wait—I packed it, right? Shit.”
Trevor grins at his wife before he pulls her into his arms and presses a delicate kiss against her forehead. “I packed the wolf, Wings. Stop worrying. I’m sure Grace has already managed to put Little Worm to sleep. She and Axel are probably knocked out. You heard them playing when you called a few hours ago.”
“But what if—”
“Trev is right, Skank,” I tell her, speaking loudly, so that I can be heard over the music. “Grace will call you if she needs you.”
She looks at me and then back to her husband. “You have your phone, right? And mine?”
“Yes,” he assures her, sweeping her hair over her shoulders. She’s been growing out her dark brown waves since she got pregnant with Caroline. Now halfway down her back, her locks are almost as long as they were when we first met. “She’ll be okay. We’ll call again in an hour.”
“Okay,” she murmurs with a nod.
I smile at Roman and he smirks at me. Tonight is a big step for our girl, leaving her little one in someone else’s care through the night. I’m actually surprised that she’s not freaking out even more. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be like that when it’s our turn to have a baby.
I bet I’ll be worse, I think with a chuckle.
“Oh. My,” Beth gasps as Roman takes my coat. We all look at her in question and then everyone follows the direction of her gaze. Suddenly, all eyes are on me. “Well—that is certainly an interesting choice.”
I know by the look on her face that she didn’t mean that as a compliment, but I refuse to let her get to me. My mother-in-law has always been wary of me, in spite of the fact that I’m so obviously, completely, and hopelessly in love with her son. I know how she felt when Roman and I were first dating and she found out we didn’t share the same faith, but that’s all changed now. I worship the same God she does. My choice in wardrobe doesn’t negate my love for Jesus. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that my dress is my way of thanking Him for giving me this body.
Granted, I work my ass off to keep it in shape, but still—it’s by His grace that I’m able to do so.
I take a deep breath and fight my irritation. Her judgmental stare is certainly not new. She’s free to think whatever she wants. It’s not her approval I seek, but that of my husband. Considering the hard-on he made sure I felt before we left our hotel room, I’m going to go ahead and say that tonight, I totally win.
“Damn!” Trevor laughs. “I’m surprised Rome let you out in that thing.”
Roman places a possessive hand on the small of my back, crushing me against his side. I seal my lips together and fight my grin. “Don’t start, Trevor,” he practically growls through clenched teeth.
A single giggle escapes and his eyes flicker to mine. My amusement evaporates as I suck in a sharp breath. It’s in this moment that I begin to question whether or not it was a good idea to leave the room without any panties on. He’s making me wet just by looking at me.
“You look sexy as hell, LG. Rock that dress,” Daphne insists. She smacks her hand against my ass as she passes in front of her mother, leading the way to coat check. I don’t even try and hide my amusement when I bring my eyes up to meet Beth’s. She doesn’t say a word as she turns to follow her daughter.
“You look lovely tonight, Logan,” says Neal with a friendly wink. “Better keep your eye on her,” he tells Roman.
I smile at my father-in-law. He and I were practically insta-friends. He’s a much needed buffer between his wife and me, and I appreciate him immensely.
“You see what I mean?” Roman asks, gripping my hip, pulling my attention back to him. “We’ve been here two seconds and already someone has grabbed your ass.”
I throw my head back and laugh before I kiss his cheek. “You’re ridiculous and I love you.”
He tries to hide his smile, but it lights up his pretty, dark eyes. “Yeah. Well, you’re crazy beautiful,” he says, brushing his lips against mine. “And you drive me insane. I’m definitely going to need a drink.”
I take a sip of my scotch, my eyes perusing the crowd as I stand beside the bar. I feel the music, the beat vibrating through my chest in time with the bodies that bump and grind on the dance floor. It’s just after ten p.m. and the place is packed. I’m sure Benjamin is thrilled. The proceeds collected at this gala will be donated to a charity that means a great deal to him. He sits on the board of more than one, but his attachment to fine arts outweighs them all. Funding music education is his way of giving back to the community that gave him a voice when he felt like he didn’t have one.
He’s come a long way, my brother, and I’m not too proud to admit that I admire him—especially on nights like this one.
“Judah, dance with me!” Mariah whines.
God. I fucking hate the sound of her voice when she begs.
For a moment, I wonder why I decided to invite her tonight. Then I remember that thing she does with her tongue when I fuck her mouth with my cock. My dick is quick to remind me which head I was using when I extended the invitation. I’ll have to let her go after tonight. Twice is quite enough.
“No,” I mutter, bringing my glass back to my lips.
In my periphery, I can see her fold her arms across her chest in annoyance. I genuinely don’t give a shit whether she’s upset at me or not. I got her into the gala, she’s drinking on my dime, and before the ni
ght is through, I’ll fuck her until she can’t remember her own name. She’ll get over my refusal to join the sweaty masses on that dance floor.
“Why’d you bring me if you’re just planning on standing by the bar all night?”
I look down at her with a lifted eyebrow. “Why did you say yes?” I ask.
She licks her lips and that’s all the confirmation I need—she understands my implication. I raise two fingers and tap the bottom of her martini glass, encouraging her to drink. She obeys and my eyes continue to roam the room.
That’s when I see her.
The light catches her platinum blonde hair, pulling my focus to the curls that drape down her chest. The fair shade of her hair stands out against the blue of her dress and my gaze slows when my eyes reach its hem. Her long, toned legs beg to be admired and I don’t refuse them. Then that fucking goddess of a woman turns around and I catch a glimpse of her back. My cock swells as I remember the feel of her skin beneath my hand—her soft lips on mine.
It’s been over a year since I’ve seen her, but Logan Schwartz is not a woman easily forgotten—a truth that has been resurfacing more and more over the last few weeks. Our paths will cross again, soon, and I wonder whose strength will prevail. I’m not a man who begs. I refuse to grovel at her feet, but I almost had her once. Seduction is not a feat; rather, it has proven to be a bi-product of my simple interest. I wonder how she will fair when she’s forced to work with me on a regular basis.
A minute part of me wonders the same of me.
Logan Schwartz is not a woman easily forgotten—but it’s hard to forget a woman who tells me no.
I watch as she’s tugged into a pair of arms, and I recognize the bastard who had the audacity to punch me at a company function. His grip around her sends a loud message to anyone in a ten mile radius with a dick.
She belongs to him.
I squint as I take a closer look at her and spot the wedding ring on her finger.
Shit.
All bets are off.
I don’t fuck with married women. Not ever.
I throw back the last of my scotch and slam my glass on the counter. Suddenly in need of a distraction, I hold out an expectant hand to Mariah.
“Where are we going?” she asks, wrapping her fingers around mine.
“We’re dancing.”
“We are?” she giggles.
God. I fucking hate the sound of her laugh.
“ROME, STOP!” LOGAN INSISTS with a chuckle. Placing a hand on my cheek, she turns my face towards hers. “No one is looking at me. You’re being paranoid.”
To be honest, I hadn’t realized I was being so obvious about my routine checks for onlookers. Judging by the pout on her lips, I’m assuming the slight shift in my blood/alcohol level has impaired my ability to be discrete. Nevertheless, she’s wrong. Men have been gawking at her since we got here. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t piss me off.
I mean, come on! She’s clearly here with me. Doesn’t anyone have any class anymore? So she’s got a nice ass—it doesn’t belong to any of them, and they need to keep their eyes off.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when the DJ cuts the music and announces that there’s only one minute left in the year. Logan squeals as she slides her fingers up my neck and into my hair. A smirk tugs at my mouth, her excitement downright adorable. I furrow my brow when she begins to look to her right and to her left, searching for I don’t know what.
“What are you doing, babe?”
“Checking to make sure I don’t see your parents,” she replies, looking once more.
“And why is that?” I ask with a sly smile.
She focuses her eyes back on me as she presses herself up on her tiptoes. I tighten my grip around her waist, helping to support her weight as she touches her nose to mine. “Because I intend to kiss the hell out of my husband at midnight and I’d prefer not to hear about it from your mother later.”
I touch my forehead to hers, squeezing her even tighter, needing her closer.
“Logan Elise Holloway, two-thousand-sixteen has been the best year of my life because of you. I love you so damn much.”
“I love you so damn much,” she insists, her eyes wide, echoing her words. “I know, with all my heart, that this is going to be such an amazing year. I’m walking into it as your wife and it doesn’t get any better than that.”
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven…”
As time passes, I decide that waiting another five seconds is too much to ask. Before the clock strikes midnight, my lips are pressed against hers. She hugs me closer, opening up for me, and I don’t hesitate before thrusting my tongue into her mouth. I barely register the raucous of the partiers around us as they celebrate the dawn of a new year—I’m too lost in my Logan.
The way she arches her back, pressing her tits firmly against my chest.
The way she sucks on my tongue.
The way she tugs my hair at the nape of my neck.
The way she holds me as if she has no intention of letting go.
My dick grows stiff and my desire to be inside of her burns so hot, I can hardly contain myself. I slide one of my hands down her bare back, ever so slowly sneaking my way under the fabric that covers her backside. I tell myself I’ll stop as soon as my fingertips graze the top of her underwear, but when I feel nothing, something inside of me snaps.
I yank my hand out just as I rip my lips away from hers. She sucks in a breath, her lips parted in a small O, her eyes glassy with lust.
“Where are your panties, Logan?” I growl. Both her lips and her eyes open wider and I’m suddenly short of breath, my desire turning into a suffocating need. I lower my lips to her ear, gripping her hips tightly between my hands. “My girl wants to fuck, doesn’t she?” She shivers against me, her fingers pulling at my hair. “You want me to slam my cock into your pussy? Huh? Do you need me to remind you who owns that pussy? You want me to punish you for thinking you have the right to be out in public in nothing more than a scrap of fabric? You don’t—Mrs. Holloway. You’re mine. Mine. You can’t parade your naked pussy around like it belongs to you. You hear me?” When she doesn’t answer me, I apply more pressure to her hips and press my hard length against her. “Answer me, Mrs. Holloway.”
She’s practically panting now. I can feel her short, hot breaths against the side of my face as she moves her lips just below my ear. “Punish me,” she whispers.
I hook my arm around her waist, tucking her against my side as I begin to barrel my way through the crowd. I see no one. I hear nothing. I feel desperate. Ravenous. Insatiable. I feel downright possessed. I’m so turned on, I can barely think straight. I know that Logan is struggling to keep up with me, but I can’t slow down. My eyes jump around the room, searching for an exit, a bathroom, a corner, somewhere—anywhere!
My dick jerks when I see the stairs, roped off but unmanned. I assume they lead to the the balcony of the theater, which is empty tonight. A wicked grin spreads across my face and I stop just in front of the velvet ropes, throwing Logan over my shoulder. She squeals and I smack her ass, making her squirm and moan.
My dirty girl.
I race my way up the stairs, not even bothering to check to make sure that we’ve gone unnoticed. I don’t care. I can’t care. All I’m worried about is losing myself under Logan’s dress—finding myself in her perfect cunt.
Once we’ve ascended to the second level, I don’t think twice before I go right—blindly making my way down the empty corridor. I breathe deep, in an attempt to catch my breath, and I get a whiff of Logan’s arousal. When I slide one of my hands up her thigh and between her legs, my dick grows painfully hard as my finger slips through her slick folds.
“Mmmm, Rome, baby…” she mewls.
“Fuck, Logan!”
We pass four doors before I attempt one. It opens with ease and I’m far too distracted to be surprised. When the door latches shut behind us, we’re shrouded in almost complete darkness. The only light that illuminates the box th
at I’ve managed to stumble upon is the green exit sign that hangs behind us. As I set Logan down on her feet, I know I’ve got all the light I need.
I’ve loved her body well and I don’t need the advantage of illumination to make my woman come apart at my touch.
“Roman,” she whispers, pressing her body against mine, her hand stroking my erection through my suit pants.
“On your knees, babe.”
I whimper as I sink to my knees, trembling like an addict in withdrawal. I know that it’s only been a few hours since he’s been inside of me, but after our night of dancing and revelry, it feels like it’s been too long. I need my fix. I’m craving it. I’m wild with want. I’ll take him anyway I can get him. My mouth. My pussy. I don’t care. I know he’ll take care of me. He always does.
My Roman—he always does.
“Turn around, Logan. Hands on the banister. Lean over and stick that pretty ass in the air, beautiful.”
I do exactly as he says, crawling in the darkness toward the banister, anxious for his touch—his punishment. I listen as he unfastens his belt before his pants drop to the floor behind me. I’m panting like a bitch in heat and I don’t even care. I need him. I need him—“I need you!” I whine.
He kneels down behind me and presses his erection against my back. My fingers tighten around the bar of the banister, my impatience pushing me to my breaking point.
“You need this cock?” he grinds out as he rocks his hips, rubbing himself over the fabric of my dress. “You need this big dick inside of you, is that what you need? My dirty, little minx.”
My eyes fill with tears, my desperation almost more than I can bear. I’m wetter than a slip-n-slide and I wonder if it’s possible for me to come before he touches me. I love it when he talks dirty to me. Love it. My good Christian boy. My God fearing man. He’s more than I ever dreamed, capable of bringing me the most intense pleasure in so many ways. Soft and sweet. Hard and dirty. Quick and in a hurry. Slow and drenched in love. His sexual beast was awakened by me and I adore every version.
