by London Casey
I told them a guitar.
They rushed out and got me one, and that’s where it started. It didn’t take long for them to hate the guitar. They hated the noise. They hated the reminder of my existence. So for Christmas that year I told them - well, I told Santa - that I wanted an electric guitar with an amp… and headphone to plug into the amp so the guitar wouldn’t make noise. It was there Christmas morning for me.”
“But you play bass for DownCrash,” I said.
“I play anything I want,” Logan said with a sexy confidence.
“How did that happen?”
“I saw an instrument and I picked it up,” he said. “There was a time when my parents would buy me anything to keep me out of their hair. Then I got a few jobs and when I graduated high school, I went to the first college that accepted me. And the rest is sort of history, right?”
I nodded and reached for Logan. I touched his bare skin. My fingers slid down, feeling the gentle bumps of muscle, down to his wrist, and finally to his hand. His fingers slowly opened and I put my open hand on top of his.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” I whispered.
“There’s always more,” Logan said. “I’m sure the same goes for you. Your ex didn’t just wake up one day and get someone pregnant, right?”
Hearing it hurt, but it was the truth.
“There were plenty of problems,” I said. “Us not together doesn’t hurt me as much as the fact that he just starts another relationship, with a baby, and I’m sure it’s a great thing. As though I never existed or mattered.”
“You want his family to mourn you?” Logan asked and laughed.
“Not mourn me,” I said. “But… maybe understand that it was a real relationship. I feel like I was knocked down a notch because I didn’t get pregnant.”
“Do you want to get pregnant?”
“No!” I cried out.
“Then stop thinking about it.”
“Tell me about your scar,” I said. “You said it was two parts…”
“Yeah, that,” Logan said.
His hand closed over mine, really tight.
When his eyes met mine, something told me that this story was the breaking point for Logan. The kind of story that would have him either spending the night in bed with me or spending the night with a bottle of vodka.
I squeezed back at his hand, wanting to keep him there. And close.
6
“I wasn’t a perfect kid,” Logan said.
I couldn’t imagine anyone as a perfect kid, teenager, or adult. That’s not how life went. Everyone made mistakes. Everyone had regrets. Everyone did dumb things. That was the nature of humans.
“One night, I realized what was happening with my parents and I snapped.”
“Snapped?” I asked.
“Yeah. Instead of sitting down and talking to me about things, my mother kicked open my door and began to tell me how much of a pig my father was. Screaming, knocking things down in my room as though I was the problem. Then my father joined a second later and started telling my mother that she ruined herself and thanks to her pill problem, she couldn’t carry another child.”
Logan closed his eyes and took a breath.
“What happened?”
“That’s when she slipped and admitted she didn’t even want the child she had… meaning me.”
“Oh, Logan,” I said. “That’s so wrong. I hope you don’t believe that for a second.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Logan said. “Even then, it didn’t matter. It just pissed me off. So I left. I left my parents in my room, fighting. I grabbed my guitar and left. I ended up at a friend’s house and we started drinking. Then things got really crazy.”
“What happened?”
I pulled at Logan and he moved closer to me. I could smell his skin then, my nose and body tingling, wanting him.
“We ended up drinking a little too much and then my friend got a call from his girlfriend. They started bickering on the phone and when she hung up on him, he grabbed his keys to leave. I stopped him but he wasn’t done. He had to get to his girl, that’s what he told me. He worried she was dumping him or going to find another guy or something like that. I knew where she lived and I knew a back road to get there. It was a straight shot so I made the dumbest mistake of my life.”
“You drove,” I whispered.
“I drove,” Logan said. “I drove and did my best. But I was drunk. A dumb teenager doing the dumbest thing ever. Around one of the bends, I lost control of the car. My eyes saw something different and I panicked. I cut the wheel left, right, left again, and then we were off the road.”
Logan stopped and swallowed. He tried to stand up but I held his wrist. I used both hands to keep him in place. I was a second away from begging him to stay.
“Logan, tell me,” I whispered.
“I woke and my side was killing me. The driver’s window shattered and a piece of glass was stuck in my side. Doctors were able to get it out and stitch me up but I was left with a scar. Another scar. Like the most significant moments in my life were left with scars. But other than that, I was fine. My buddy needed so many surgeries… so much rehab and stuff, you know? It cost me so much, Annie, I’m still paying for it in every way possible. My friend had a younger brother who’s going to college on a free ride. Smart kid. But so fucking annoying. We just don’t mesh, but he couldn’t afford an apartment… so I told him to crash in mine while he’s in school. It’s the least I could do, right?”
“What happened to your friend?”
“He’s fine now. He used to play baseball but that ended his baseball dreams. He’s in school down in Florida. Thankfully nobody ended up suing each other and as pathetic as it is… my father, the big bad lawyer, got me out of most of it.”
Logan’s eyes were weary and hurt.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay to be hurt.”
“So I just pay,” Logan said. “Everyday that I wake up and Tommy’s in the apartment, I pay. That’s why I stay here so much. Seeing Tommy keeps that pain alive. Thinking about what my father did, keeps the pain alive. He used the divorce as a reason why I acted like a dumb kid.. And it all worked. My last couple years of high school were a fucking blur. Time moved on but part of my heart…”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Logan wasn’t speaking about himself to me, he was speaking about me to me. I was completely sitting up by then and I made my move again, just like at the bottom of the steps. My lips touched his and my other hand grabbed for his shirt. But Logan wasn’t wearing a shirt. So my hand grabbed at his skin. His soft skin. His sexy skin. So I gripped his shoulder, feeling the hardness of muscle as we kissed.
It was just lips for a few seconds. Kissing once, twice, three times. Then I parted my lips a little and to my shock, Logan pushed at me, wanting it. His mouth opened and our tongues touched. I moaned, feeling foolish but turned on. Then, both my hands were at his sides, holding him, never wanting to leave me.
He didn’t.
He pushed at me again, taking me down to the bed.
Logan didn’t climb directly on top of me. His arms locked straight, keeping the top half of his perfect body off me. His lower half touched me, but not where I wanted to be touched. We were at such an angle where it didn’t work.
But the kissing did.
Logan kissed me with a deep passion.
Our tongues battled for space, my teeth teasing at his lips, tempted to bite for a second. Logan did the exact same thing to me. The kiss broke twice and each time we stared at each other for a couple seconds. I wasn’t going to say anything because I had nothing to say. I had what I wanted. Logan didn’t say a word either but as he exhaled his breaths I could tell something was racing through his mind. Both times, he groaned and went back to kissing me. I never enjoyed making out with someone so much as I did with Logan in that heated moment. The thoughts of what had happened to me were slipping away.
My nails dug into Logan’s back a little a
nd started to move down. I knew exactly what I wanted next and how to get it.
I wanted Logan’s body against me. Inside.
But Logan broke the kiss for a third time, ending it.
His mouth was away from mine, too far away. He hovered over me, breathing, blinking.
“Shit,” he whispered. “Annie…”
“Don’t say a thing,” I said. “I’m right here, Logan. I want this.”
“Our emotions,” Logan said.
“Fuck that,” I said. “Kiss me again.”
“Annie… we’re…”
Logan scrambled, trying to maybe convince himself what he should or shouldn’t do. So I did something. I pulled the rockstar card on Logan. I hadn’t forgotten a word he sang during that acoustic song when DownCrash was jamming in the garage. I hadn’t forgotten a word written in that notebook either.
I licked my lips and whispered to Logan.
“I thought I laughed once, but I just tasted my own tears.”
Logan closed his eyes and sighed. “That’s not fair.”
“Yes it is,” I said. “Logan, just come next to me then.”
Logan opened his eyes and looked like he was going to move. I clawed at his sides.
“Without your shirt on,” I said with a wicked smile.
Logan complied and fell to my side. He was over the covers, I was under the covers. It wasn’t the perfect setup, yet.
“Thank you for telling me everything,” I whispered.
“Will you remember it tomorrow?”
“Of course I will,” I said. “I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t get drunk, beg for sex…”
“Beg for sex? Who is begging for sex?”
I didn’t reply but moved the covers down a little. I put my hands to Logan, wanting him so bad. I moved at him and felt him hesitate.
“Annie…”
“I’m about to throw myself at you,” I said.
“I don’t want anyone to regret anything,” he said. “It’s been a crazy day and night… and now morning…”
“Shut up,” I said.
“Whatever,” Logan teased.
We were just an inch from each other.
I couldn’t do it again though. I couldn’t make a move. I had to leave it up to Logan. To show me if he wanted me or not.
His forehead touched mine first. I gasped as our noses touched. My body was lit on fire. I felt myself tingling everywhere. My breasts ached for his touch. Between my legs, I needed his comfort. I needed to feel him.
“Logan,” I whispered.
Logan put his lips to mine, ending any potential of more conversation.
Talk was over, and that was certainly fine by me.
We kissed like before, deep and long, savoring each second and exploring each other’s mouths. I felt Logan moving, fighting his way under the covers. His hand touched my back and hurried down to the bottom of my shirt. Then it was his bare hand at the small of my back. His fingertips teased the top of my pants. He pulled at me, bringing me close and tight to his body. I felt him… how hard he was.
I moaned.
His hand cut up my shirt, making sure he touched me everywhere instead of just being fast. The implications were laced with romance, but I preferred to just have the lust for the moment.
When Logan’s fingers touched the back of my bra, I sighed into his mouth. His lips kissed my bottom lip and he slowly moved away from my mouth, tasting my neck. I felt the flicker of his tongue and his fingers gripped the clasp of my bra. With a simple twist of those fingers, my bra was undone.
I felt the relief as my chest pushed forward, still covered by my shirt. Logan’s hand wasted no time then, sliding around towards my breasts. His fingers tickled my sides a little and I jumped, laughing for a second. There was something about that moment that just made everything happening so much better. To feel such intense emotion, want, and need, but then be able to laugh for a second before Logan’s strong hand cupped my breast.
He held me, allowing his thumb to tease and touch my nipple. I groaned and wanted more. I tried to roll to my back but Logan used his other hand to slip behind my neck and hold me in place. He was in control and I wanted it. My lower half thrust at him.
“Logan,” I whispered.
Logan’s hand moved over my breast, his palm pressing against my nipple. My body surged with need. I opened my legs and I took deep breaths, waiting for him to do something more. He kissed from my neck to my ear, his teeth nibbling at the bottom of my ear as he casually worked back to my mouth. There he kissed me again and this time it was me who broke the hot kiss to say something to Logan.
His eyes were wide like he had overstepped the lines and as though he were about to get shut down.
Not at all, not even close.
“Logan… touch me…”
That was all I needed to say. I hated the feeling of his hand leaving my breast, but as his fingers spread wide and made their purpose well known, moving down my body and stomach, I knew where he was going. When he touched the top of my jeans again, I shuddered and sighed obviously loud. At this point, Logan and I weren’t kissing but just staring at each other. That was perhaps even hotter than kissing. I could only focus on how my body felt and reacted to his touches. He moved with such confidence and ease, it left me melting for him, feeling as though I was succumbing to his every need and command.
When he opened my jeans, he slipped his hand down but stayed over my panties. Again, he was confident enough to enjoy my body and not have to hurry up. My hands touched his back again to feel the way his muscles flexed and moved with each movement he made. His fingers curled down and around between my legs, pressing against my panties. I could feel the burning heat transferring to his fingers. I was so wet by then that my panties clung to my body. I wondered if Logan could feel it. Then one of Logan’s fingers touched the side of my panties. He moved my panties out of the way, allowing the tips of his fingers to graze along my delicate, wet folds. My legs jumped and I thrust at his fingers, not expecting the move.
Logan smiled, his eyes radiating and capturing me with some kind of sweetness yet his fingers between my legs were anything but. He continued to play, touching me, rubbing me, and just when I thought I was reaching my breaking point to cry out for more, Logan pressed his lips to mine and inserted one of his fingers into me. I cried out as we kissed and his finger slid deep. My body welcomed him and welcomed the movement that came next as he fingered me. His other hand pressed against my back, forcing me tight to him. He took his finger out of me and away for a second. Now Logan hurried, going down the front of my panties. His fingers glided along my smooth skin until he touched me again. This time he wasn’t so slow and gentle. His middle finger touched my clit and rubbed for a few seconds, almost sending me over the edge. I buried my face into his neck, crying for him, wanting more.
So much more.
Two fingers touched me at my tender center and were lost in me. He pressed hard and began to move, slowly at first, gently working himself into a faster motion. I heard him breathing and felt his heart racing. This wasn’t just some hookup and I wasn’t just some girl to finger. It had more meaning. What the meaning was I didn’t know, and quite honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted Logan to keep touching me, to keep enjoying me.
I gripped the top of his jeans and pulled. The space I created by pulling made it easy for my hand to slip into his pants. I was over his boxers and felt him a second later. The thickness. The hardness. Logan groaned and pushed at me. His fingers moved faster, almost pulling, wanting our bodies touching. I was ready to do anything for him. Anything he wanted.
Logan moved so his lips touched my ear again.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked, almost out of breath.
“Don’t do any more,” he said.
My hand squeezed over his boxers.
How could I not do anymore to him? My hand was right there?
“This is about you,” he whispered.
I had no idea what that meant, but it teetered on the thin line between erotic and romantic. It didn’t matter though, because the soaring pleasure through my body started to take over. I could feel myself already there, ready to explode.
Logan picked his head up and touched his forehead to mine again. We played some kind of flirty game with the tips of our noses touching, our mouths open, teasing each other with the possibility of another kiss. All the while my hand touched him over his boxers and his fingers pleasured me.
“Lift your shirt,” Logan commanded. “Right now.”
The sweet romantic guy suddenly became the wild rockstar guy. In the blink of an eye. But honestly, nothing sounded hotter than when he said that to me.
I had to take my hand from his pants and I moved to my back, finally, and lifted my shirt. I only did it a little, teasing Logan, but he wasn’t buying into it at all. His fingers exited my body and he purposely kept his wet fingers against my skin as he moved his hand up. I felt the wetness of my own body being spread against my skin. He took a handful of my shirt and lifted it, exposing my breasts. I gasped as I watched it happen, wanting it, feeling my body aching for his touch again.
“There,” he said and slowly crept his hand back down my body.
When he returned to my slit, his fingers picked up where they left off. He pleasured me hard, and fast, enjoying the way my chest moved as he did so. His eyes were battling between staring at my face and at my chest and body. He made his decision when he slid down a few inches and placed his lips to my right nipple. I cried Logan’s name and gripped the bed sheets. He had no idea what the move did to me until he found out a minute later…
“Logan,” I whispered, “oh, Logan, I’m…”
Logan’s mouth opened, his lips spreading beyond my nipple. His tongue tasted me now, circling around my erect nipple. I tried to moan but as I did, Logan closed his mouth and pulled a little, taking everything with him.
His fingers were fast and perfect, his kisses amazing on my chest. My fingers were tight around the sheets, pulling at them. If I had still been touching Logan’s back, I would scratch him to the point of bleeding by then. My body lifted and rocked, needing and wanting it. I realized we were alone in the house so I let out a long cry of relief as my body came to a climax. The rush was everywhere, head to toe, everywhere in between. I throbbed as I came, Logan’s fingers still moving, ushering all the pleasure out of me. He then began to kiss up my chest, only stopping to lift his head over my shirt, before he kissed my neck. His fingers gently circled around the folds of my body. He brought me up and eased me down.
