by Anthology
Sliding his thumbs across, he gently pulled my lips apart and got so close, I could feel his breath against what I knew must be my clit. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax. His voice was soft but I could hear every word. “Baby, has any boy ever touched you here before?”
I bit down on my lip. That part of my body was virgin, too, and it needed him desperately. “No…you’re the only man to even look there.”
“I’m going to make sure you don’t regret that.”
I couldn’t take even a moment to ponder what he meant because he lightly touched the spot that had been throbbing and pleading. The tip of his tongue felt like a warm feather at first—just a tease of what was to come—and I sucked down a short breath of air. Then he gave my clit a short, slow stroke with his tongue, and I felt some sort of charge course through my nerves. I almost gasped with delight and anticipation of what was sure to come.
His tongue grew more forceful and moved a little faster as he continued. Each delicious stroke created a rush through my body, leaving me wanting more, and I felt the muscles in my legs grow more taut as he continued. I tried to relax as I enjoyed the sensations flowing through my veins, and I pictured Logan’s face as his tongue performed its wicked dance. It was then that I could hear the way I was breathing—ragged and shallow—and I tried relaxing again by taking a deep breath.
And that was when everything changed.
I could sense something building inside me then, some strange sensation, a feeling of impending exploding pleasure. I knew then that if Logan didn’t stop, the elusive orgasm was within my grasp. I listened to my instincts and continued breathing deeply and slowly and slightly adjusted my pelvis—and it was then that Logan’s tongue began to hit the exact right spot. As if my body was no longer under my mind’s control, my thighs started quivering as a slight moan escaped my mouth, and in response, Logan began swirling his tongue, altering what he’d been doing.
Oh, God, that was fucking amazing…and it completely undid me.
“Oh, Logan,” I cried, letting my fingers wind through the hair on his head. I could feel his relentless motion then and my body responded, quivering, throbbing, filling with pleasure like I’d never known in my entire life. “Oh, fuck!” I almost yelled, letting out a string of moans as my thighs pulsated rhythmically in response to his demanding tongue. “Oh, God…” He didn’t let up, and neither did my body as wave after wave after wave of the most amazing sensation I’d ever felt crashed through every nerve, every muscle—every damn pore of my being.
As if he could sense it, Logan slowed the motion of his tongue as I floated down off my cloud, much like a feather wafts from side to side on its descent toward the earth. When he finished, he sucked the inside of my thigh, and it made me realize how sensitive I was to touch. Then he crawled back up the bed and kissed my neck. I felt his breath on my ear when he whispered, “That’s how you made me feel the other night.”
Wow. I could do this all the time. But I had no energy to even open my eyes. I smiled, though, and loved when he kissed me again. Then I was able to talk. “Are you going to fuck me now?”
“Wasn’t that enough, baby?”
My grin made my eyes crinkle. “Yeah, I guess so, but—”
He placed his finger on my mouth. “Don’t you worry about me, cupcake.”
“But—”
Logan sat up on his knees. “Making you come like that inspired me. I don’t want to enter you again until I know you’re completely healed, my princess. I can wait. But I can take care of myself. So sweet of you to worry about me.” Smiling, I opened my eyes and saw him stroking the length of his fucking gorgeous erection. I felt hot again but too tired to protest. He was so damn sexy, though. Holy shit.
“I’m thinking about being inside your sweet, tight little pussy.” He closed his eyes and let out a small moan.
“Come here.”
Opening his eyes, he continued stroking his veiny member. “Baby, I—”
“I want to taste your cock,” I told him, licking my lower lip and holding it under my teeth.
“Oh, fuck me. I can’t resist.”
I smiled. He moved closer and I turned my head. First, I licked the head, relishing the salty taste of first his skin and then the pre-cum oozing out of the tip. I felt myself growing hot again but still sated, and I didn’t know that I’d be able to handle another orgasm anyway. I lifted my body up on my elbows and sucked hard on his cock, letting him move it in and out. He ran one hand through my hair and the fingers of his other hand played with my nipple. It wasn’t long before I felt the hot cum filling my mouth, and I swallowed without thinking twice. “Fuck, Briana.” His response encouraged me to keep sucking until he was done.
And then, in less than five minutes, I was completely out, snuggled up against his chest and dreaming of endless orgasms with this amazing man.
I’d been in such a deep sleep, but the sound of a voice awakened me. I took in a deep breath and stretched, and even though my eyes were still shut, I could tell it was light in the bedroom. When I finally opened them, I saw sunlight streaming through the partly opened curtains, but cool air drifted down from the A/C vents in the ceiling, protecting me from the brutal August temperature.
Finally, it dawned on me. I thought it was Brendan’s voice I’d heard. In a panic, I sat upright, trying to remember if his voice had been a dream or reality. Thanks, dude. That was all I could remember hearing.
But the slamming of the front door downstairs just then confirmed it. My eyes darted to the LED display on the alarm clock resting on Logan’s night stand. Eleven-thirty? Was it really that late?
Holy shit!
Brendan was home already?
My veins filled with anxious bitterness as I jumped out of bed and tried to think of what to do through my foggy barely awake state. I realized then that I was still completely naked.
Fuck…I had to get out of there and fast. What the hell was I going to do?
CHAPTER EIGHT
My heart was thudding in my chest, every nerve alive, my body filled with panic. What the hell was Brendan doing here? I’d thought he wasn’t due till sometime in the afternoon or evening.
But did that matter? How had I slept so late anyway?
I needed to think and move…fast. The only way out of the house from Logan’s bedroom was out a window (bad idea) or down the stairs—and I had no way of knowing where Brendan was in the house right now. But it wouldn’t matter where he found me in the house. He’d know something weird was going on.
And then it was like a miracle. I had a brilliant idea that, if executed well, could get me out of hot water. So I ran around Logan’s room like I was half crazy, running into the bathroom to discover Logan had folded my clothes and set them on the counter, so I grabbed them and threw them on. Once I was dressed, I pulled up the covers on Logan’s bed so it looked made at a glance, just in case Brendan peeked in there. Then I grabbed my flipflops and purse and peeked out the door. The coast seemed clear, so I snuck out, quietly pulling the door shut behind me, and then I darted across the hallway to Brendan’s room.
My heart was thudding in my chest, and I felt a thin sheen of perspiration on my brow…but I’d made it without detection.
I threw my shoes and purse beside the bed and slid under the covers as quietly as possible. That was when I heard Brendan walking up the stairs. Even though they were carpeted, a couple of the steps creaked, something I hadn’t noticed before now. In retrospect, I supposed—in the tense moments while I waited for my boyfriend to come up the stairs—that I could have hidden in Logan’s room all day and texted him, letting him know I was trapped. He then could have texted me when the coast was clear. But I also realized there were too many things that could have gone wrong with that picture.
This really was the best way.
I rolled on my side and closed my eyes, taking one last deep breath while hoping I could pull this off.
No, I shouldn’t panic. This could work.
It had to.
When I heard him enter the room, I noticed he was singing some Rhianna song I knew he liked. That meant he was in a good mood—so I could hopefully distract him some. He was moving around the room, possibly setting his luggage down, and then I heard him approach me.
Oh, dear heavens. Please let me be good at this.
Shit. I was becoming my mother.
“Bree?” He touched my shoulder. “Hey, Bree? Wake up.”
I opened my eyes and then blinked them a few times, hoping it looked like I’d been in a deep sleep. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey, sleepy head. What are you doing here?”
“Brendan. Oh, I’m so glad you’re home. I love you and missed you terribly.”
Only that wasn’t true at all.
“Aw,” he said, brushing the side of my hair with his hand. “I love you and missed you, too.”
He got ready to kiss me and I panicked. What if he tasted his dad on my lips? I turned my head and said, “Sorry. I have morning breath.”
He laughed. “Fine. I’ll kiss you later.” I felt another strong surge of guilt, because I wasn’t looking forward to that at all. Brendan was a competent kisser, but it had always felt like he had other things on his mind. From now on, I knew I’d find myself comparing his kisses to his father’s decadent ones, the ones that tightened me to the core. “So what are you doing here, silly?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night…so I wanted to surprise you because I knew you’d be coming home today.” Oh, that lie happened way too easily—and it was followed by another one, equally smooth. “I called your dad and asked him if I could spend the night in your bedroom.”
He smiled and slid his fingers down my hair. “That’s really sweet, Bree.” I smiled back, feeling guilty once again as I remembered his father touching my hair last night. “You’re one of the most thoughtful people I know.”
Oh, God. He had no idea. The remorse surged in my brain and part of me wanted to confess and just get it over with—but the idea of breaking Brendan’s heart stopped me cold in my tracks—so I smiled back and hoped it looked genuine.
“I love you,” he said, completely unprompted, something that rarely happened. He must have been telling the truth when he said he’d missed me while he was gone. “I’m just blown away.”
Shit.
Well, there was one way I could make it up to him—and it was something that could maybe also get Logan out of my mind at the same time. I knew he’d been reluctant to make love to me, but I knew that once he understood how awesome it felt, something I’d experienced the night before, he’d get it—and then he’d want to do it, right? And I hoped that maybe he wouldn’t be able to tell that I’d already lost my virginity. I mean…even though I’d had sex that way once, surely I’d still be tight and hard to penetrate. And even if not, Brendan, never having had sex before, wouldn’t know what to expect or how to tell. I felt a little paranoid about it but it seemed like I needed to try. It was the only way to set everything right.
So I sat up, trying to seduce him with my eyes. “Hey, Bren…while you’ve been gone, I’ve, uh…I’ve been thinking about you a lot in kind of inappropriate ways.” As if to punctuate my words, I bit my lower lip and began trying to unbutton his jeans at that awkward angle.
“What’s gotten into you, Bree?”
“I just want—”
He stood, moving out of reach of my fingers. “Didn’t we already talk about this? That we’re gonna wait, save ourselves for marriage?
I felt my shoulders droop. Yes, we had, but that had always been his idea, not mine—and it was so weird because the only other kids I’d heard talk that way were religious ones…and my guy was not religious. I’d wanted to experiment and play with my gorgeous boyfriend for a long time. “But Brendan—”
“No, Bree. Thank you, but no. I just can’t. I’m not ready.”
God, now I felt like an asshole. “Okay. I’m sorry.” The upside? Now I felt a little less guilty for giving in to my desires with Logan. Before speaking, I took a deep breath. “I just…wanted you to know I missed you.” Then I added again, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know you’re just thinking about me. But you don’t have to soil yourself by offering up your virginity to me.”
It was like he couldn’t make up his mind. “But it’s not just for—”
He placed his index finger on my lips. “Shh.”
And that was the end of it. I could tell the conversation was over, and he wasn’t willing to talk about it anymore. So I changed the subject, asking him how football camp was, but while he talked, I tuned him out, knowing that I had to get to his dad before he did so Logan and I would be telling the same lie.
When I got out of the shower that afternoon, I saw that Logan had finally texted me back. As soon as I was out of sight of the house on his way home earlier, I’d texted him and told him he needed to text me back before he saw Brendan.
What’s going on?
I went to my bedroom with one towel wrapped around my head, another around my body, and sat on the bed with my phone in hand. I’d been feeling kind of mopey, depressed, and worried while waiting for that text to arrive. Just seeing a message from Logan made me feel calmer and clearer. I told him that Brendan had arrived at his house while I’d been upstairs sleeping. Before I could text more, he asked, Does Brendan know?
I texted as fast as my thumbs would let me. No. I ran to his room and jumped in his bed. When he got upstairs, I told him you’d let me spend the night since I missed him.
Good thinking.
So I managed to get out of there without him finding out but he knows I was there. I didn’t know any other way to do it.
Then Logan called before I could type more.
“I’m sorry I put you in that position, Briana. I should have gotten you up this morning and driven you home before heading to campus, but you looked so peaceful.”
“No, that’s okay. Was he supposed to be home that early?”
“They never really said, and Brendan didn’t give me a time.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “So you’re sure he doesn’t know?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure—but that’s why I wanted you to know what I told him…in case he doesn’t totally buy it, then at least we have the same story.”
We’d both be liars.
Late that afternoon, I was cleaning up, taking out the trash, dusting, and vacuuming. Why I felt the need to do those chores, I didn’t know, but my mom surprised me by showing up unannounced. It was her house, so I suppose she was entitled to. Only five minutes there, she began bitching about anything and everything, so I started vacuuming again to drown her shrill voice out.
“Briana!” she yelled as I shut it off.
“What?” Tired of her BS, I couldn’t help snapping back at her.
“When’s the last time you emptied the bag?”
I knew what she meant but I still asked, “What bag?”
“The one on the vacuum.”
I could feel how my eyes glowered at her. “We don’t have new bags to put in there.”
Mom scowled and dug through her purse. As she threw some money on the coffee table, she said, “Here. Buy some bags and whatever else you need. I’m gonna be gone this weekend. Make sure that gets you by till I get back.” I nodded. This was nothing new. “But I want you to clean the kitchen from top to bottom.”
“What’s wrong with the kitchen?”
“Don’t sass me.”
God, she could be such a bitch—and I was growing more sick of it every day. “Fine.” Fuck her. If I didn’t clean like she wanted, she probably wouldn’t notice anyway.
Ten minutes later, she had two plastic Walmart bags full of shit as she walked out the front door. Either she was making up with Greg or she had a new guy she wanted to screw for days on end and those bags held the bare necessities for a fuckfest.
Unfortunately, I now understood that kind of desire. Maybe it was inherited.
&nb
sp; So when my phone vibrated on the kitchen table as I wiped down countertops in a stupid attempt to make my mother happy, I smiled and almost blushed when I saw a text from Logan.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
Oh, his words made me feel tight from head to toe—and his attention made me feel so good about myself—but now that his son was home, everything had changed.
It needed to.
Logan, we can’t do this anymore. Brendan’s home now, so we can’t. We’re done.
Even as I typed it, I asked myself how I could live without him.
Just a couple of minutes later, I was swirling my finger on the glass of my phone as if touching Logan’s hand when it rang, making me jump out of my skin. It was Brendan.
“Hey, Bren.”
“I need to talk to you right now.”
Oh, shit. He must have found out. Had Logan confessed after I told him we were through?
“I’m coming over.”
Holy shit. Yep. He knew. And how the hell could I explain my indiscretion to the sweetest guy I’d ever known?
CHAPTER NINE
As I waited for Brendan to get to my house, I told myself it was better this way: Face the music; get it over with.
Then pray he could forgive me for being so damned weak.
Pray he could forgive me for betraying him.
Hope he could find it in his heart to forgive his father while he was at it.
My stomach nearly devoured itself while I waited the few minutes for Brendan to get to my house. It felt like a fucking eternity.
When he got to the door, I opened it hastily, armed with an arsenal of lies, pleas, and supplications to counter his every sentence. He looked distraught, but I could tell immediately that he wasn’t upset with me.
