Lucky Ball

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Lucky Ball Page 17

by Lisa N. Paul


  “Of course I’d like to come into your place, Wren, but you’re wrong about one thing—there is no such thing as a foregone conclusion. If you aren’t ready, just say so. I’d never take what you aren’t excited to give.”

  “In that case, please get your sexy ass into my house… and bring the cookies.”

  His chuckle filled the night air as he followed her up the drive into the house.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pimps And Hos

  While Wren was in the kitchen, plating the cookies and pouring drinks, Logan flipped on the switch for the fireplace. The wooden mantel was decorated with knick-knacks and framed pictures of Wren and the people who had touched her life. There were a couple of shots of Wren and, he assumed by the familiar traits, her parents. She had explained that they had moved to Florida several years back, when the Pennsylvania winters became too hard to for them to tolerate. The other pictures were of her and Emmy, spanning years of friendship. The two looked like polar opposites, yet the love between them was evident in every shot.

  “That was the night Emmy had to drive an hour to rescue me from a god-awful date.” Wren handed him a beer before plucking the frame from the mantel. She smiled while shaking her head at what seemed to be a funny memory. “It was freshman year of college, and Emmy had convinced me to go out with a ‘super cute’—her words—sophomore. The FEB advised against it, but Emmy swore she’d burn all of my underwear if I didn’t listen to her instead.”

  Taking a pull from his beer, Logan mentally cringed. Obviously this story did not have a happy ending. “What happened?”

  “When Emmy says she’s gonna do something, she does it, and I didn’t have the money to purchase new things, so I agreed. The date was to a fraternity party—a Pimp and Ho costume party to be exact.”

  Oh no, this already sounds bad, real bad.

  “Emmy pulled together a costume that would make a streetwalker blush and waited with me until my date came. I guess, in retrospect, the tuxedo he sported should have clued me in that something wasn’t right. I mean, how many pimps do you know who wear tuxes? I got distracted though, chatting the whole drive to the party. And it was a hell of a drive. Nowhere near campus. To make a painfully long story… less long, we walked into a nice hotel where the fraternity was having a party, but I was the only ho there. It was their fall formal.”

  Indignation boiled through Logan as he imagined her humiliation. “What the fuck?”

  “That’s what I said. Apparently, since he was the only sophomore in the pledge class, his final initiation was to publicly embarrass a freshman.” Wren told the story nonchalantly, as if it had happened to someone else. As if it was a common occurrence for her. “He obviously succeeded.”

  “What did you do? Please tell me you slugged him in the face.”

  As if the thought was ridiculous, Wren stared at him. “No, I wobbled away on five-inch red pleather heels and hid in the bathroom until Emmy came and got me. She, on the other hand, did not handle things gracefully.” The wide smile returned to Wren’s face. “To this day she refuses to tell me how she scraped that outfit together so quickly, but when she showed up in an outfit so revealing it made naked look overdressed, I nearly died. Together we flounced into the ballroom filled not only with current fraternity members but also alumni, and we made a huge scene. Well, she did. I kind of watched in awe. When she was finished draping herself all over the fraternity president and questioning why he chose to keep her as his dirty little secret—something that was untrue and managed to piss off his girlfriend—she announced the little initiation stunt to the alumni and their wives. Then once things were good and whipped up, she grabbed my hand and we left. She had sweatshirts waiting for us in the car and apologized on the ride home.”

  A thousand things ran through his mind all at once, but the thing he needed to know first was, “Who took that picture? And why did you both look so happy?”

  In the picture, both girls wore the long sweatshirts Wren had mentioned, faces heavy with makeup, and their smiles that didn’t just touch their eyes but consumed them.

  “On the way back to campus, Emmy had me in stitches as she described all of the ways she intended to get even with the brothers from the fraternity. Little did I know, when I called her to come get me, she activated a phone chain. I didn’t have many friends at school, but Emmy, that girl knew a ton of people. She convinced me to stop for a bite to eat at a restaurant on campus, and to my complete surprise, dozens of girls were waiting for us. Several of them were victims of the same horrible prank. ‘Embrace your inner ho, sweetie, you’re in great company,’ was what she said just before that picture was snapped.”

  Doing his best to stay calm, Logan stared into the flames. “That’s some story.”

  “You’re going to crack your jaw if you keep clenching it that tight.” Her light tone drained the anger from him like sand through a sieve. “It’s ancient history, Logan. Emmy got the last laugh. She formed a group and lodged a formal complaint that ended up in an investigation. The whole fraternity was kicked off campus.”

  Wren placed the picture back on the mantel. Her skin glowed as the light from the flames danced across her. How he had gone from being relaxed, almost mellow, to invested and determined was beyond him, but this woman brought things out in him that even the greatest songs never evoked. He had no words, not yet. But his feelings were building and fuck, were they strong.

  Turning toward the coffee table, Logan set down his beer, picked up a cookie, and beckoned Wren with his index finger. Another smile hit her lips, one that was sexy, seductive, and oh so sinful. “Come here, beautiful. You still have a decision to make, and I want to help you make it.”

  “A decision?” she asked, her head tilted playfully as she closed the gap between them.

  “I’m a competitive man, Lucky.” His knuckles stroked the side of her jaw. “I need you to decide your favorite part of the night: the food or the company.”

  He held up a small piece of cookie, and Wren parted her lips. Purposely, Logan swiped the morsel against her bottom lip before releasing it into her waiting mouth. His cock stirred the moment the pink of her tongue touched the tip of his finger.

  “Mmm, that is heavenly.”

  “You have a little bit of chocolate right there.” Logan touched the dotted spot and licked his finger. “You’re right, that is good. Fortunately for me, you still have some on your lip.” Leaning forward, he touched his tongue to her soft flesh and felt his pulse spike as he sucked her bottom lip. Rock hard just from her kiss, he needed to get himself under control. “You might be right. That cookie just may be the best part of the evening.”

  The gauntlet had been thrown—at least that’s how Wren’s face looked as her jaw dropped and her eyes popped. “Wow, really? Is that how you want to play it?”

  He shrugged, laughter threatening to explode from his chest. “You’re the one who got all romantic about the cookies. I’m just agreeing with you.”

  Wren reached behind him and grabbed another cookie. She broke the disc in half, rolled onto her tippy-toes, and frowned.

  “What’s the matter, Lucky? Having a hard time reaching my lips from down there?”

  Logan’s taunt ended in a groan when Wren pulled his shirt out of his jeans and rubbed the cookie over his abs. The surprise of her warm tongue lapping over his hot flesh nearly unmanned him.

  “Who needs ice cream when I can have cookies a la Logan?”

  Recovering from the sneak attack, Logan tucked his hands under Wren’s armpits and tugged her to a standing position before he rubbed another piece of cookie down the column of her throat and into the V of her sweater. Savoring each inch of her skin, he kissed and licked from her earlobe down. “So sweet, so goddamn sweet.”

  Her hands tangled through his hair. When he got to the lowest point of her sweater, he paused and looked up, waiting for permission. As hungry as he was, he refused to push. At her subtle nod, he untied the sash and lowered the sweater from h
er shoulders until it hit the floor with a whisper. Flawless ivory skin covered a body he was aching to touch. Her breasts, handfuls of lush perfection, were hugged in a sexy-as-fuck bra.

  “Blue lace?” The conversation they’d had the previous week flashed through his mind. Yet even his imagination hadn’t conjured up this image.

  “I bought it just for tonight.” The pink in her cheeks extended to her incredible breasts.

  “Because of our conversation?”

  “Yes.”

  His large hand caressed her face as he pulled her close. No words could adequately deliver the message he needed to send. Lowering his mouth to hers, he devoured its softness and parted her lips with his tongue. Tasting her, inhaling her, chocolate and all things Wren filled his senses as she kissed him back.

  Without realizing that she’d moved, Logan noticed his shirt had come unbuttoned and slid off his shoulders and down the length of his arms. He released her only to let his shirt mingle with hers and grab another piece of cookie.

  Logan dragged the buttery baked good atop the swell of her lace-covered globes, the chocolate melting on her skin. Following the path of the cookie, he licked away all remnants left behind. “Never tasted anything better.”

  Under a hooded gaze, she asked, “Are you talking about the cookie?”

  *

  “I’m not going to answer that question.” The desire burning in his eyes matched what blazed in her body. Thank God.

  Her gaze lowered to his chiseled chest, broad shoulders, cut pectorals, and a six-pack the likes even her refrigerator had not housed. Logan Enders was the most beautiful man Wren had ever met; a shirtless Logan Enders was the most beautiful man Wren had ever seen.

  Sexual tension stirred between them, thick like molasses as it drew them closer. Licking his lip, Logan ran a finger under the strap of her bra. She wasn’t sure why, but her eyes shifted to the coffee table. More directly, to the Fortune Eight Ball.

  On a dime, Logan stopped. His moving, breathing, it all stopped as his gaze followed hers. Her focus was back on him as he swallowed then took a small step away. Away from her!

  “Logan, stop, it’s not—”

  Eyes closed, he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I will never rush you, force you. Never. I just don’t know—”

  “Logan, listen to me. I want this”—she motioned between them—“you and me. I want you so bad I can’t see straight. In the past, I’ve always consulted the ball before I had sex. For some reason, I forgot to do that tonight before we went out.” That realization hit hard.

  “You forgot?” Some sort of delight passed over his face.

  “Yes. I didn’t think about it when you took my shirt off, but when you went to remove my bra, I saw it sitting there, and I remembered. I’m sorry. Let me just give it a shake, and we can move on.”

  Grabbing the ball off the table, Logan held it high over his head. “You want me?”

  “Yes, I thought I just explained that.” Seriously, did he not listen to her?

  “When you say want, you mean want, as in my mouth on your pussy, you riding my cock… that kind of want?”

  Wren swallowed as desire mixed with unadulterated need in the pit of her belly. Her core tingled at the mere mention of the things he’d suggested. “Yes, Logan, I want you. I want all of that.”

  A devilish glint took residence in his eyes. “Then, beautiful, there is no fucking way I’m gonna let you ask this ball if we can have sex.”

  “Logan…” Panic set in as the thought of not having her ball became a reality.

  “Wren, relax.” He handed her the ball. “You just can’t ask it about sex.”

  Confused, she stared silently at the half-dressed man before her.

  “If you ask a loaded question like, ‘Can I have mind-blowing sex with Logan?’ and that little fucker says no, that’s it. Right?”

  Ashamed, she nodded, because in truth, that was exactly what would happen.

  “I know, babe.” Understanding softened his tone. “If you told me you weren’t ready, I’d be okay. Horny as hell, but okay. That’s not the case though, so we’re gonna play this smart. If you need to consult that ball, you do it one step at a time. If it blocks us in one way, we can work around it to find pleasure. Let me pleasure you, Wren.”

  He didn’t realize it, but he already had. His words brought her more pleasure than she’d ever known. “Mushy, Logan , so, so mushy.”

  “Couldn’t be more opposite if I tried, babe.”

  His gruff reply made her even mushier. Logan crushed his lips to hers, sending her heart once again soaring into her ribs.

  “Ask your questions, beautiful. I can’t wait to touch your body.”

  In no more than a breathless puff, Wren choked out, “Should Logan remove my bra?”

  –Reply Hazy, Try Again–

  “Shit,” she cried, squeezing her lids closed.

  “No,” Logan growled as he nipped her earlobe. “Don’t get upset. Do you have any idea how good I can make you feel without your bra ever hitting the ground?”

  The sentence hadn’t been completed before he already had her lace-covered nipple rolling between his thumb and middle finger. His other hand cupped her opposite breast, lifting it as he bent forward. The sensations of his tongue, the damp lace, and the not-so-gentle nips had her insides tingling.

  “Oh, Logan…”

  He looked up at her. “Ask your question.” Then he feasted on the other nipple.

  “C-can I unzip Logan’s pants?”

  Logan pulled away, stopping her hand mid-shake. “You can’t ask that question, honey.”

  “Wait, why?” The thought of having him naked, seeing him naked, touching him, made her wet with want.

  “No, not right now. My pants stay on until you’ve gotten off. Even then, you need to be sure.”

  Damn, he wasn’t wrong. She would have sex with him in a second, but if the ball advised otherwise, she’d put the kibosh on it, and that wouldn’t be fair. “Okay. Pants on.”

  A wolfish smile split Logan’s face in two. “That’s not what I said, beautiful. I said my pants stay on. You have an entirely different set of rules. Now, ask your questions.”

  Wanting nothing more than to feel his hands, Wren looked at her ball. “I want…can I take my pants off?”

  –Yes, Definitely–

  “Yes!” The fist pump probably wasn’t sexy, but with the speed Logan had flicked open her button, she doubted he even noticed.

  “You’re cute when you’re excited, Lucky.”

  Oops.

  “But fist pump or not, your excitement couldn’t possibly reach mine.” For as fast as he undid the button, he took his sweet time pulling down the zipper. “I’ve been waiting all night to see what you have on underneath this outfit. Now that I’ve seen the top, my imagination is running wild with the bottom.”

  “Why are you going so slow? Do you think real life won’t be as good as your imagination?”

  Chuckling, Logan wrapped her hand in his. She loved his hands and couldn’t wait to feel them all over her. But that’s not where he put them. No, he pressed her hand against his very impressive jean-covered erection. “Does this feel like I’m worried about anything?”

  With a gentle squeeze, she pumped him twice, watching his eyes close and his chest rise and fall before releasing him.

  “Fuck…” Slowly his lids opened, and the flames in them burned hotter and brighter than before. “I was taking my time so I wouldn’t push too far, too fast. You, gorgeous, just did all the pushing yourself. Lay down, baby, I’m gonna take you for a ride.”

  “Don’t you want to—”

  “Lay down,” he growled, getting to his knees and assisting her onto the rug.

  *

  His mind raced as he helped her onto the plush rug. Her simple touch had set his every nerve on fire. He needed to feel her, taste her, fuck her. But first he needed to remove her pants. Shame, he thought as he undid her sexy blue shoes. I
wanted her to wear these while I pumped in deep and she screamed my name. Oh well. He tossed them onto the floor before moving back up to her waist. Hooded eyes rested on him as he peeled off her pants, finding the sexiest blue lace covering her bare mound.

  “Surprise,” she said in a throaty whisper.

  He couldn’t look away from the stunning gift, nor could he stop himself from pressing his lips to her lace-covered sex. The scent of her arousal had his cock growing painfully hard. “Ask your ball, baby.” When she didn’t move, he assumed she didn’t understand. “Ask your ball if I can eat your pussy, Lucky.”

  She immediately repeated the question and shook the damn ball.

  –Yes–

  The word was barely uttered before he whipped off her panties and spread her knees apart. “Mmm, you smell delicious.” Her arousal glistened in the folds of her bare sex. “Did you shave just for me? So I could see how turned on you get from my touch, my tongue?”

  He didn’t wait for her response before sweeping his fingers over the soft skin and parting her lower lips. Her clit was already swollen and awaiting his next move. Thumbing the tight bud, he pressed one finger then another into her entrance, rubbing the front of her pleasure point.

  “Oh… that feels so good,” she moaned, writhing onto his hand, wordlessly begging for more.

  He’d give her more. So much more.

  The fluffy rug tickled his naked torso as he shouldered himself between her legs. All other feelings were forgotten the moment Logan got his first taste. Like a drug to his system, as soon as her flavor hit his tongue, he was addicted. Lifting her legs onto his shoulders allowed him to get closer, and that’s what he needed. From slit to clit, he dragged his tongue, lapping up her juices and feasting on her cream. As his fingers pumped into her entrance, he felt her pulse around them.

  Gently, he tongued the sensitive bundle of nerves, and she tangled her fingers through his hair. When he stroked her g-spot, she lifted her hips, grinding her core to his mouth. “My greedy girl needs a bit more.”

 

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