by Lana Hartley
I’m right, I can feel it; there’s a story in here, somewhere.
Sitting by the counter, I drum my fingertips against the surface, anxiously checking the time on my phone. It’s 8 pm sharp and, even though he isn’t late yet, I’m starting to worry; what if he doesn’t show up? Guys like him probably flake on journalists all the time.
“You’re early,” I hear someone say behind me, and I turn around on my seat to see Logan standing behind me. I didn’t even hear him come in. He’s wearing a simple tailored black suit, and it fits him so perfectly that I can’t help but wonder if that’s a consequence of an expensive tailor or of the ripped body he’s hiding underneath the fabric. Maybe it’s a bit of both? Either way, I’m surprised to see him in a tailored suit. It’s kind of stupid of me, but I always assume that athletes (fighters, mostly) wear funky clothes everywhere.
“And you’re right on time,” I tell him, smiling as I feel a wave of adrenaline wash over me. I can’t believe that a guy like him, one of the richest men in the sports world, agree to be interviewed by me. Michelle was right; these profiles on Logan and Hunter might give me some leverage back at the office.
“So,” he starts, taking the seat next to mine, “you want to do a profile on me. Is that it?”
“That’s right,” I reply. Maybe I should tell him that I’m profiling him and Hunter, but instinct tells me to keep my mouth shut about it. “I want to give the readers of the Gazette a glimpse at who the real Logan is.”
“The real Logan,” he whispers, more to himself than to me, and smiles. “I’m afraid that’s going to be one hell of a boring article… There’s nothing really remarkable about myself.”
“I doubt that,” I reply. I don’t even know why, but there’s something about him that tells me that he’s more interesting than most men, famous or not. It’s a kind of aura, one that exudes power and control.
“Have you ordered already?” he asks me and, the moment I shake my head, he turns to one of the guys behind the counter and starts saying something in perfect Japanese. Holy shit, what the hell’s this? He speaks Japanese?
“I grew up in Japan,” he says, readying my thoughts. “My father spent most of his military career stationed there.”
“See? Now that’s something I didn’t know, and it’s definitely interesting,” I chuckle, reaching inside my purse and taking out my notepad and a pen. I set them on the counter, ready to jot down his words, when he reaches for me and places his hand on top of mine.
“I know you’re here to do a job… But don’t ruin dinner, alright? You’ll have plenty of time to take notes,” he tells me, and my body reacts almost automatically; I store all my stuff inside my purse again, and I nod at him.
We spend the next few minutes making small talk, chipping away at the ice between us; when the sushi rolls start being served, I feel as if I've known him for years.
“God, this tastes so good,” I say in what almost sounds like a moan, the most delicious sashimi I’ve ever tasted inside my mouth.
“Asakura is a true sushi master,” Logan tells me, satisfied with what I just said. “And he’s my friend as well,” he continues, nodding at one of the smiling Japanese men. Asakura returns Logan’s nod (in truth, he almost bows down) and goes back to cutting thin slices of salmon.
“Why isn’t this place famous?” I ask, snagging another sashimi from the tray in front of me. “It’s so good.”
“We’re not interested in making it famous. A lot of good restaurants have been ruined by fame… We don’t care about it, we just care about making good food.”
“We?”
“Yeah, well… This restaurant’s mine. And Asakura’s, of course; it’s a business partnership. But, please, keep that off the article, will ya? I don’t want to see this place getting flooded with curious people.”
“Deal,” I reply, Logan’s candidness getting to me. He was so guarded in his gym, but now he just seems like… a regular human being. One with whom I can connect to on a personal level. And it feels good; after covering so many events from a distance, it’s nice to be personal for once.
“Despite what you say… There’s more to you than meets the eye,” I continue, looking into his eyes. He looks straight back at me, turning on his seat, and I feel my heart tightening up inside my chest. Oh God, am I blushing? Keep it together, Natalie!
“I like sushi; is that a big revelation?” He laughs, never taking his eyes off me.
“I’m curious about what other things you might like,” I tell him, unconsciously biting down on my lower lip. With my heart picking up the pace, I start wondering about my cleavage; is it sexy enough? Has he even noticed it? And why the hell am I thinking about my boobs right now?
“Oh, I like a lot of things,” he whispers and, as if he can read my thoughts, he looks down my body. I think that my body temperature is rising so much right now that soon enough my dress will burst into flames.
“What about Hunter? What do you think about him?” I find myself saying, trying to focus on the job while I pull my mind out of the gutter.
“Hunter? He’s the heavyweight champion, I don’t know anything about him,” he tells me flatly, turning to the counter as his voice becomes ice cold. Yeah, right… Logan might be a lot of things, but he definitely isn’t a world class liar. Still, whatever story there is between him and Hunter, I know it’s still too early to press the subject.
“Oh, that’s a pity,” I tell him, changing gears fast. “But I’m not here because of him… I’m here because of you.”
“And what do you want to know about me?” he asks, that sweet warmth returning to his voice.
“Everything,” I find myself saying, the words coming out of my mouth before I can stop them. While I say it, I do just like he did before and allow my eyes to roam down his body, imagining how he must look completely naked… Whenever he’s inside a ring, wearing nothing but trunks, he looks like a God. And I’m definitely curious to see those muscles of his up close…
Oh, what the hell’s wrong with me? I never get this distracted while I’m on the job. He’s the guy you want to interview, not your date, I scold myself, but the way my heart’s thumping tells me a different story.
“Everything, huh?” he says, lowering his voice and looking away from me. He looks deep in thought, and I can almost see the gears turning inside his head. “Well, I have a lot of old photos and whatnot back at my place… Maybe you’d like to see them?”
His eyes lock on mine again, and I completely forget about what he just told me. The only fours words my mind has processed were back at my place.
My answer to that couldn’t be any more obvious.
“Yes.”
Logan
"It isn't much by today's standards," I say, walking Natalie through my penthouse. "But it's all I need."
"Isn't much? Are you kidding me, Logan? This place is incredible! Look at that view of the city! And everything is so modern—steel and glass and granite."
"I just meant that some athletes have mansions strewn all across the US, but I'm content with this single penthouse in the sky," I smile.
"Well, if you don't think this is much, I definitely don't want to show you where I live."
"Why's that?" I ask.
"Let me just put it this way," she smiles, pointing toward my kitchen. "I think I can fit my entire cramped studio between your fridge and dining table."
"You know what they say," I shrug. "Size doesn't matter."
She gives me an odd look and it takes me a second to realize the sexual innuendo that just tumbled out of my mouth. I want to kick myself for saying something so stupid. That wasn't what I meant at all. It came out wrong.
I quickly change the subject. "Let me give you a tour," I say. "Follow me."
She seems to like that idea and I take her to the living room.
"Here's the heart of it all," I say, waving one hand around the room.
I watch as she takes it all in. She walks over to my bookcase, s
ilently reading the titles on the spines.
"I didn't know you were such a geek," she smiles. "I'm joking. Sort of. I've just never met a boxer who reads, and you seem to have everything from philosophy to fiction here."
"That's a shame," I say. "People should read more. Feel free to borrow something."
"What's this one?" she says, pulling a thick book off the shelf, and flipping through the pages.
"That's 'Musashi.' Never heard of him? It's a story about one of Japan's greatest warriors."
"I'm sensing a theme," she smiles. "First sushi, and now Japanese books."
"What can I say? I have a deep appreciation for the culture."
"Does everything about you go … so deep?" she asks. And I don't know why, but the way she says it makes my cock twitch.
When I don't respond right away, she asks, "And is that a Japanese sword on the wall?" She places the book down and walks to the other side of the living room.
"It's an antique Japanese Gunto sword," I say, following her. "It belonged to my father."
She seems to be impressed by this and walks over to me. I watch as her hips sway beneath her tight, black dress, and I find myself trying to steady my heartbeat. I feel it gallop in my chest as she places her hand on my arm.
The mood in the room is changing.
"You're a cultured man," she smiles. "You're much more than just a fighter. And I like that."
"I'm cultured because I know how to read and I have a sword on my wall?" I say, jokingly, but I'm just giving her a hard time.
"Well, that is one big sword," she laughs. "And you know what they say about a man with a big sword…"
She has no idea. If she only knew how big the sword in my boxer briefs is right now. The lights from the city skyline catch my attention, glittering at the peripherals of my vision, and it changes my train of thought.
"I have something else to show you," I say.
I grab her hand in mine and lead her to a balcony off the living room. I slide the glass door open and we step outside. The night breeze brushes past our cheeks and I watch as Natalie's hair is swept back.
"This is gorgeous," she says.
"You like it?"
"I love it."
"Standing here, sandwiched between the sky and the city, gives me a feeling I can't explain," I say, leaning against the handrail.
She looks up at the night sky. "I know what you mean. It's like you can feel the world expanding around you and you have a front-row ticket to it all."
I look at the smooth curves of her breasts, and the soft, gentle slope of her neck as she smiles up at the sky. I look at her gold hoop earrings reflecting the light of the moon, and I can definitely feel something expanding right now. But it's not the sky, or the stars, or the city. It's my cock.
"Yeah, something like that," I smile, placing my hand on the small of her back.
As soon as I touch her, she turns to me. "So, what can you teach me about these stars?"
The way she says it sounds like a challenge.
"Easy," I smile, pulling my phone from my pocket and navigating to the Google Sky Map app. If you ever wanted to feel like some geeked-out superhero, this app delivers. I hold it out so that she can see the screen.
"Look, there's Orion, and there's the Big Dipper," I say.
"That's so cool," she smiles, and I watch as the wind blows a few strands of her hair across her crimson lips.
"Did you know that the white and blue stars are the hottest stars in the sky?"
"I didn't," she says, shaking her head slightly. "That's interesting."
"But they aren't the hottest thing I see."
A grin spreads across her face as the realization of what I'm saying hits her. "Is that so?" she purrs, looking over at me. "And what might that be?"
"I think you know," I say, reaching for her and closing the distance between us. Our eyes meet, and I brush my fingers across her lips. Then I move my fingers from her lips to the nape of her neck and I pull her close. Without waiting a second more, I lean in and press my lips to hers.
She tastes better than a bottle of Dom Perignon. Could anything taste sweeter than this woman's lips?
I feel the warm eagerness of her body as she reciprocates and she wraps her arms around my shoulders.
"I've been waiting all night for you to do that," she smiles.
Natalie
His lips are on mine again. It’s hot – so hot. And, oh, the way he moves his tongue around my mouth. I love every moment of it. I feel his hands slide down my back until he grabs my ass, hard. I feel his body pressed against mine. He’s strong, but of course he has to be. I just didn’t expect him to be this strong. I’m already so turned on. The desire between us started during dinner, and it grew, slowly turning into something completely uncontrollable.
“Mmm,” I moan against his mouth.
“Do you like when I do that?” he asks me.
I nod my head, because that’s all I can do.
Logan takes my hand and leads me to his bed. I follow after him as if my body was as light as a feather, my feet carrying me as if I were hypnotized. He starts to undress me, his fingers slowly working on my dress. With his hands on my shoulders, he pushes the straps of my dress down my arms, and I simply hold my breath as the fabric droops over my breasts. Swaying my hips from side to side, I allow the dress to slide down my body and pool around my ankles.
“Good,” he whispers, his fingers going over my shoulder blades as he frees the clasp of my bra. As he pushes the bra down my arms, I feel my nipples hardening as the cool air of the bedroom laps at him. “Now the rest…” he continues, his hands going down the side of my body and stopping on my hips. Grabbing my thong, he pushes it down my legs in one flowing motion, and I hold my breath once more.
I’m standing before him, fully naked.
I want him and by the outline of his hard cock, I can tell he wants me to. He points to the bed and I get on it. He doesn’t like to waste time, and that’s perfectly fine by me. Obedient, I get onto the bed and lie on my back. He grabs both of my legs and yanks them apart.
He climbs onto the bed, in between my legs. He’s moving his hands along my body, feeling my skin. My body is covered in goosebumps from his touch. From the anticipation of what might happen next.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as his hand glides across my stomach.
I bite my lip.
“Mm don’t do that.”
I bite my lip, again. This time is purely out of habit.
Logan runs his hands along my thighs, and this sends chills through my entire body. He stops both hands on either side of my pussy.
“Your pussy is so gorgeous,” he says.
He takes his hands off me, but only for a second. He puts them on my breasts and begins to squeeze, gently massaging them. He moves his hands and tugs on my nipples with his fingers. It feels so good. He slides his hands down my stomach then, drawing little circles with his fingers as he goes.
He stops at my pubic bone.
I watch as he gets off the bed, removes his pants and shirt, so that he is standing in front of me in just his boxer briefs. I want him to take them off so I can finally see his cock, but he doesn’t. He climbs back onto the bed and places a hand on my pussy, flattening his palm against it; placing his thumb on my clit, he begins to massage it. Waves of pleasure wash over me, and I sigh heavily as my body twitches.
“Mmm,” I moan.
He stops rubbing my clit and instead slides a finger inside of me.
“You’re so wet already,” he says.
I nod my head. “I’m so turned on right now,” I say.
“That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
He slides his finger in and out. It feels so good. I feel him pause and add another finger. He’s now moving two fingers in and out of me, slowly drawing out the pleasure. I want to feel him move his fingers in and out of me faster and harder, but he’s going slow and it’s driving me crazy. He moves his fingers around and
puts his thumb on my clit. He starts rubbing it, slowly. Just as slowly as he’s moving his fingers in and out of me. It’s painfully slow.
I let out a soft moan.
“You want me to go faster?” he asks.
I nod my head in response. “Mmhmm. Please, please go faster.”
I feel his fingers pull all the way out of me.
“Okay,” he says.
I want to ask him why he pulled his fingers out, but before I can ask, I feel his fingers back inside of me; without a moment’s hesitation, he begins to move them at a faster pace, sliding in and out of my pussy fast. And it feels so good. “Oh fuck,” I pant. God, I’m so turned on right now, so wet. He puts his thumb back on my clit and begins an onslaught of pleasure. Rubbing my clit and fingering me hard, he works on me the way a maestro would conduct an orchestra.
“Don’t stop,” I say breathlessly, the words almost not coming out of my mouth because I’m so focused on the pleasure. I’m close, on the edge of an orgasm. I’m ready to come. But he stops and pulls his fingers out of me.
“Not yet,” he says. “You can only come when I want you to come.”
I have to admit, I like where this is going. I have always wanted to be dominated and now I’m finally getting my wish. Being here with Logan, all I want is to be told what I should be doing and how I should be doing it.
My body is aching for its release, but ready and willing to see what’s going to come next.
I watch as he removes his boxer briefs. It’s so hot the way he does it. And I finally see that his cock is bigger than I first thought. It’s almost intimidating, but I’m more excited than anything.
“Suck it,” he says, his voice firm and commanding.
Oh, I love that he’s demanding things from me and not asking. It’s turning me on more and more. Driving me even more crazy than I’ve ever been before.
I sit up and get onto my knees on the bed. He’s standing at the foot of the bed, and so I grab his cock and open my mouth up. I look up at him as I slide him into my mouth, rolling my lips down the length of his enormous shaft. He tips his head back.
