by Maya Cross
I punched him in the shoulder, feigning mock offense. "How dare you?"
"Oh don't get all feminazi on me. You know it's true. I've been watching you watch me eat. You get some kind of perverse joy out of pleasuring people's taste buds."
"What can I say? I give good food." I wished I could just deflect the topic with jokes, but Logan continued to stare while the question hung in the air. "I've thought about going back to it, but a few months ago, when I tried, nowhere was hiring."
"So maybe it's time to start trying again? You're clearly passionate about this stuff. It'd be a crime to let that go to waste."
"I know. You're right," I replied, but I didn't sound convinced. The idea of getting back into that life was certainly tempting, but also intimidating. The pace of it, the long hours, the stress; I didn't know if I could cope. Things right now were simple, comfortable. The bar was easy work and Logan and Joy were constant fixtures. I felt better than I had at any time since Tom died, but that didn't mean I was in the clear. Things could spiral out of control again in the blink of an eye.
Again, Logan displayed an uncanny ability to read me. "Hey. You'd be fine. You've been doing really well."
"I know," I said again, "it's just a little scary. Things are good right now, and if I wind up back in a restaurant, a lot of stuff is going to change. My schedule would be crazy, for one thing. I don't know when we'd get the time to see each other. And I wouldn't want to leave Charlie in the lurch like that."
"Now you're just making excuses. Charlie would be fine, and we'd find time for one another. I'll do what I have to do. I'm not saying it has to be right now, just think about it, alright?"
I nodded. "I will."
We didn't speak for a few minutes besides the odd mumble of approval. Logan was right; just watching him enjoy the fruits of my labor brought me a huge amount of satisfaction. Food made me happy in a way few other things did. Maybe it really was time.
Gazing out at the dessert, I began to understand why he liked it here so much. It gave off this amazing sense of peace. Nothing moved in that space. It was just the world, pure and open before us. If I ignored the hum of the city to our backs, it was easy to imagine that we were the last people on the planet. You'd think that would be a scary thought, but it wasn't. A simple life with him was the most perfect thing I could imagine.
"Tell me about your restaurant," he said, as he began loading up his plate for round three.
"What?"
"If you were to open a restaurant, what would it be like? I know you, Grace. There's no way you haven't thought about this."
I couldn't help but smile. He was right. You know how some girls plan their dream wedding from the time they're old enough to twirl their hair at a boy? Well that was me, except replace "twirl my hair at a boy" with "pick up a wooden spoon," and "wedding" with "restaurant." I went through phases of course — the angsty fusion place where everything is a foam or a deconstruction, the ultra-hip and minimalist modern Japanese den, the eco-friendly vegan hang out — but once I left the hormones behind, I settled on something and haven't looked back.
"It would be Italian. Lots of pasta, pizza, garlic, prosciutto. Real comfort food. I want it to be the kind of place you're just as happy ducking down to for a weeknight meal as you are booking a romantic Saturday dinner for two. And it wouldn't be too big; thirty or forty seats. Nice and friendly. I want regular customers that know me by name and come in and order the same thing every week. Of course, I'll also have three Michelin Stars and be in Bon Appétit magazine and I'll be friends with Heston Blumenthal and Ferran Adria and go to all kinds of parties with them."
His expression had grown increasingly confused as I talked. "I'm not sure what any of those last things you said are, but the restaurant sounds good."
I laughed. "Yes, yes it does."
A few minutes later, Logan pushed his plate forward. "Well, I'm officially stuffed."
"Hopefully not too much. There's still dessert."
"Seriously?"
I nodded. "Back at my place."
His expression turned sly. "Do I get a choice of options? Because I think I know what I want."
The way he ran his eyes up and down my body left little doubt about what he was referring to, but I decided to play dumb. "Of course there's a choice." I stood up to begin packing. "What sort of thing are you in the mood for? There's cake, there's ice cream—"
Logan interrupted me by rising to his feet, stepping closer and scooping me up in his arms. A tingle rolled through me. Christ he was strong.
"You know what I'm in the mood for." He kissed me, our lips parting, our tongues colliding in a delicious flurry of passion. Heat prickled my skin. I had to restrain myself from just letting go completely then and there. One kiss from him was all it took to undo me. No man had ever made me so shameless before.
"Well, how about you come back home with me," I said, breaking away, "and then you can have whatever your heart desires."
He pressed his forehead against mine, staring intently into my eyes. "That sounds perfect."
Joy's friend Brad had graciously agreed to come and pick up our gear once we were done, so I sent him a text to let him know we'd be down soon. Despite the fact that it had taken Joy and I three trips to move everything up the hill, with Logan there, it took only one. I would probably have been embarrassed if it wasn't such a fantastic excuse to watch him lift and bend. His body barely strained at all, even when it was laden down with the table and both chairs.
"You guys need a ride anywhere?" asked Brad.
"I think we're fine to walk," I said, glancing at Logan. "We've got a meal to work off."
The twinkle in his eye said he really wanted to make a joke about the way we were planning on doing that, but instead he just said, "We definitely do."
"Alright, suit yourselves."
"Thanks, Brad."
My apartment was a couple of miles away. We spent most of the walk in silence, enjoying the night air. A current was running below my skin, the promise of what was to come filling my mind. I loved that he had the ability to do that to me, to hijack my senses and blanket everything in passion and electricity. That anticipation was almost as good as the real thing.
We arrived at my apartment, and I reached for my keys, but Logan stepped closer, seizing my hands and pressing my back against the door, pinning me in place. I felt his lips brush my neck, his mouth darting up to nip my ear lobe. We hadn't even made it inside and he was already all business.
"You know, you've got some desert on you," he said, stroking my hip softly. I glanced down and noticed he was right. We'd kicked up a fair bit of dust on our little trek, some of which was now clinging to our clothes.
"So do you," I replied.
"You're right. We're both filthy. Who knows where else it's gotten. There's only one thing to do."
"There is?" I asked breathily, barely able to focus on his voice at all. How the hell could he talk while still doing so much with his mouth? The man had serious skills.
"Yep. We need a shower."
The way he said "we" sent a pulse of desire straight down to my sex. The idea of getting him all naked and soapy was an incredible turn on. "You know, I think you're right."
I couldn't get the key in the lock fast enough. We made our way awkwardly down the corridor, giggling as we tried to walk, make out and shed clothing all at once. By the time I had the water running, we were both naked. I took a moment to marvel at his body once more, those pecs, that perfect V, his beautiful cock that was already growing before my eyes. Logan was every woman's fantasy, and he was completely mine.
The lust on his face as he gazed at me said he felt the same. "Fuck you're beautiful."
I loved how sexy he made me feel. After steeping myself in self-loathing for so long, it was incredible to actually feel good about myself. "Right back at you," I said.
His mouth curled into a smirk. "It's time for you to get wet."
"Might be a little late for that," I cooed,
stepping under the water.
"Is that so? Well, I'll need to see proof."
He followed me in, seizing my hair in his hands and bringing his lips crashing into mine. I reached for him, letting my fingers play across the taut coils of his shoulders. His skin was already hot and slippery, and it felt incredible beneath my touch.
Logan broke away, reaching for the soap and wash cloth. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"I think that's a good idea," I replied, almost giddy with anticipation.
He took his time, as I knew he would, starting at my shoulders and working his way down in slow circles. My breasts and my butt he ignored at first, covering the less erotic parts of my body in a thick lather. Even that contact felt amazing — the heat of the water, the slickness of the soap, the rough cloth, it was an incredibly sensual experience. The reverence with which he touched me set my heart soaring. I'd never been so lavished upon before.
"That's a good start," he said eventually, "but some parts of you are going to require special attention."
"Whatever you think is best," I said.
He dropped the cloth on the floor and began rubbing the soap in both hands, coating them, then he was reaching for my chest. Jesus Christ it felt incredible. My breasts slipped through his hands like they were liquid themselves. The roughness of his palms was still there, but it was tempered by the moisture and the foaming suds. Despite the heat, my nipples were hard peaks, and he honed in on them, stroking and teasing until I thought my body was going to catch fire. I closed my eyes and threw my head back under the shower stream, reveling in the host of sensations that were coursing through me.
His hands dropped to my hips and spun me around until my back was to him. "Put your palms against the wall," he said.
I did as he asked without even thinking. The more commanding he became during sex, the more I enjoyed it. He was so powerful, so in control, and there was something wonderfully sexy about giving in to that.
I heard him drop to his knees behind me and a shiver rolled up my spine as his hands went to my ass.
"You have no idea how sexy you look like this," he said. With almost torturous slowness, he began to massage my cheeks, squeezing and caressing as they slid through his grip. His fingertips were incredibly close to my sex, and every motion would cause them to brush against me ever so softly, drawing sharp little moans from my mouth.
"I believe you needed to see proof of something," I said, doing my best to keep my voice even.
He chuckled. "I did, didn't I?"
This time he didn't make me wait. His finger slipped inside me with ease, and all the muscles at my core tightened, savoring that foreign sensation.
"You weren't kidding," he said, his voice now heavy with lust.
His free hand rose to my ass once more, spreading my cheeks, while his thumb looped underneath to tease my clit. My knees shook. Most other guys I'd been with had been timid down there, but Logan worked with the dexterity of a master, his hands moving in perfect harmony. I'd never felt anything like it, a tantalizing chorus of sensations that seemed to immerse my entire body. A second finger joined the first, curling deep, teasing parts of me I hadn't even known existed, and my hips pushed against him in response, trying to force him deeper still. Already, there was a pressure building inside me. That luscious foreplay had left my body on a hair trigger. But before I reached that crest, he slipped out of me.
"I think you're clean enough," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. I started to object, but he rose to his feet, pressing himself against me, and suddenly all I could think about was the throbbing heat that was digging into my back. "Me on the other hand, I'm still extremely dirty."
I turned to face him. "That's true," I said, grazing my hand across his chest. "This will require a fair bit of work, but I think I'm up to the challenge." The prospect of getting to explore that body in detail was irresistible. I scooped up the soap and began. His muscles still felt impossibly hard, and I took my time dragging my fingers through every groove and channel. Every part of him was so well defined. The man had eight abs, for Christ's sake. I didn't even realize that was possible. It was even sexier now that I knew what that body was capable of. He wasn't just big for aesthetics' sake. This was real strength, potent and dangerous. I could almost feel that latent power lurking just below the surface.
Like he had, I took my time, occasionally brushing his cock, but never actually taking it in my hands. I loved the way his body tensed at those brief moments of contact. I think he was almost as ready to explode as I was. But I wasn't ready to give up my toy just yet. Like he'd done to me, I spun him around, turning my attention to the mountainous landscape of his back. I teased him, brushing my breasts across his skin while my hands cupped his ass. And, my God, what an ass it was. Tight and firm and perfectly proportioned. When a guy looks that sexy from behind, you know you've found something special.
Finally, I was done waiting.
"Maybe you should turn back around," I said.
"With pleasure."
I dropped to my knees and wrapped two soapy hands around his length. He let out a long growl. There was something intensely erotic about being on the ground before such a ferocious man, gradually bringing him undone. His hips pumped gently as I stroked him, my slickened hands gliding effortlessly over that hot skin. Somehow, he continued to grow, that gorgeous mushroom head swelling and pulsing in my grip. I wanted him so badly. All I could think about was what it was going to feel like fucking me.
Soon enough, I got my wish. His hand shot down to catch my wrist, and I expected him to make another joke about cleanliness, but the way his eyes smoldered said the time for jokes was past.
"I need to be inside you," he said, and without even waiting for a reply, he pulled me to my feet, looped his hands under my legs and lifted me until my head was level with his. Locking his lips over mine once more, he took a step forward to put my back against the wall, and then he slammed himself inside of me.
The whole motion happened so quickly, I barely had time to react. The sheer ferocity of it, that primal explosion, lit a fire underneath my skin. He held me against the wall like I weighed nothing at all, his mouth plundering mine while he rammed himself up inside me. I could feel every iron inch of him as he sheathed himself deeper and deeper. A low rumble was emanating from his chest, rolling through his body and into my own. I'd never felt so taken before, so completely possessed.
His body looked spectacular in this position. The strain of supporting me was doing all manner of incredible things to his chest and arms. Every part of him trembled and flexed. Despite the roughness of his motions, it was an incredibly sensual experience. The chill of the tiles, the steam misting my skin, the air swirling around us, hot and heavy. I was utterly lost in the moment. Lost in him.
I felt my orgasm beckoning in the distance, and Logan seemed to sense it.
"Look at me," he barked, pressing his head to mine once more. "I want you to look at me when I make you come."
I didn't really have a choice. Those spectacular eyes seemed to hold me in a trance. My world ignited, everything inside me exploding as waves of ecstasy rolled through every muscle. And all the while, Logan watched, masculine satisfaction flaring in his eyes.
"You are so fucking gorgeous when you do that," he said, as my cries finally subsided. He slipped out of me, leaving an aching emptiness between my legs, and lowered me to the ground. He was still rock hard, and unless I'd somehow missed it, he hadn't come yet.
"We're not done already are we?"
He shook his head, smiling like I'd said something hilarious. "I'm not done with you yet, Grace. I'll never be done with you."
Now that I liked the sound of.
"I just want to have you another way. I want to watch you ride me." He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. "Come and get dry."
I enjoyed the sight of him toweling off for several seconds, then found one of my own, and soon he was leading me to the bedroom.
&nbs
p; He sat on the bed, bringing his head perfectly level with my breasts, drawing first one and then the other into his mouth. I responded by reaching out and wrapping his length in my fingers once more. Despite the break in proceedings, his excitement hadn't faded even a little. I didn't think I'd ever get sick of touching him.
He played with me like that for half a minute, coaxing the coals inside me back to life, then spun me around so I stood between his legs with my back to him. "Fuck me, Grace. I want to watch that ass bob up and down on my cock."
I was only too happy to oblige. With one hand resting on his leg for support, I used the other to guide him inside me. A thunderous moan escaped his lips. I rode him slowly, savoring that fullness, the way he spread me open, the feel of skin on skin. I loved the way he seized control, but this was exciting too. It made me feel powerful and incredibly sexy, having him just lie there while I drove us both to ecstasy.
He didn't last long. As his climax took hold, his hands shot out to seize my hips, driving me down, impaling me on that shaft as deep as possible. I clenched my muscles, milking him, until he collapsed backward with a long sigh.
"That was incredible," he said.
I lifted myself off and turned to face him, my lips curling in a cheeky smile. "Was? Who says I'm done with you?"
He stared at me with amazement painted on his face as I climbed back on top, this time facing him. His cock was finally softening, but it began to swell once more as I pushed it back inside myself. He let out a short hiss, no doubt still sensitive from what had just happened, but he didn't stop me. Instead he leaned up into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close until our chests were touching.
"My mistake," he said. "Please continue."
I rode him faster now, pumping my hips back and forward rather than up and down, grinding my clit against him. Despite having nothing behind his back, Logan stayed upright, supporting himself with the strength of his abs alone. His stubble grazed across my skin as he brought his mouth to meet mine, kissing me passionately. It was such an intimate position, our eyes locked just an inch apart, our bodies knotted together as if they were a single entity.
