by Lisa N. Paul
It wasn’t a question, and it didn’t require an answer. Until she was quaking beneath him, he’d give her more. He fucked his fingers in and out while sucking her clit. Her legs shook as he increased the pressure.
When he nibbled on the bud, Wren’s entire body shook with her orgasm. “Oh… oh my God, fuck, Logan, fuck.”
Her skin flushed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her breasts heaved beneath the lacy blue cups while she screamed his name… there had never been a more beautiful woman.
*
Wren had had orgasms before. She’d had them alone and once or twice with a partner, but never had she experienced the mind explosion that had just rocked her world. She couldn’t talk. Hell, she could barely breathe. All she could do was lie there staring at the man who had brought her world to a halt. The shirtless god-like man who wore a smug expression, as if he’d singlehandedly hung the moon. Truth be told, if someone asked her right then, she’d say he had in fact hung the damn thing.
“Better than cookies?”
“Huh?” She had finally turned into a puddle of mushy goop.
Logan kissed his way up her belly, planting a light kiss on each of her still-covered breasts, then stretched out by her side. His elbow was on the rug, head resting in his hand. “You taste better than cookies. Hearing you moan is better than cookies. Watching you come… so much fucking better than cookies. I’d give up cookies for life if I could eat you every day instead.”
Nope, she couldn’t have been fully melted before, because what he just said turned her to liquid. Watching Logan glow as the flames from the fireplace danced across his golden skin, Wren wanted nothing more than to make him feel as wanted and cherished as he had just done for her.
“Giving up cookies? For life?” Her gaze moved from his deep brown eyes to his naked torso. Sitting up on her knees, clad in only the royal blue lace bra, she placed her small hands on his sculpted chest. His heartbeat raged against her palm. “I guess I could live without them if I had something else to keep me satisfied,” she purred in her most seductive tone and prayed she didn’t sound like a phonesex operator.
Her fingers traveled down his heated skin, stopping only to unfasten and slide his jeans down his muscular thighs and off his body entirely. There Logan lay, dressed in nothing more than black boxer briefs and a wicked smile. The sated feeling that had cradled her body mere seconds before had vanished, leaving carnal desire in its wake. Wren enjoyed the hiss that escaped Logan’s lips as she slowly peeled his underwear from his body, taking care to touch every inch of his hardening length.
“What you do to me…” he growled.
She straddled his legs and wrapped her hand around his thick cock. Silken steel throbbed in her grip, begging for attention, aching to give pleasure. A pearly drop of arousal leaked from the head, making Wren’s core pulse and her need spike.
No longer certain as to which one of them she was torturing, Wren lapped up the liquid. His flavor burst on her tongue, and she wanted more. Sliding her mouth around his length, she sucked him down the back of her throat.
“Holy fuck, Wren, baby.” Logan moaned, his hands going from gently twisting through her hair to violently yanking at the rug.
She fucked him with her mouth, loving his masculine sounds and the ways he reacted. Her body was electrified, her core pulsing with need.
“Baby, stop.” The words were strangled. “Not in your mouth, not this time.”
Before Wren had time to process his words, Logan reached for his jeans, grabbed a condom from his wallet, sheathed himself, and had her lying on the floor beneath him. Wren giggled, wrapping her legs around him. “Are you a superhero? Because that was crazy quick.”
“Just properly motivated.” Logan half-chuckled and half-moaned as she lifted her hips and guided him inside. “Christ, you feel… ahh.”
Slowly he rocked into her, penetrating deeper then grinding harder. His hands seared paths all over her body, claiming her, ruining her for all other men. His hand moved between them and rubbed small circles on her hardened clit as he pumped in and out of her pussy.
“I can feel you,” he growled in her ear. “Your sweet pussy is pulsing around my cock, begging for release.”
He strummed her clit like a harp and pulled almost completely out. Every nerve in her body tightened. She was on the top of a roller coaster, and all she needed was a tap… Logan plunged into her, and she flew apart. Shivers raced up her spine as her limbs shook in release. She came back to earth just in time to watch him blast off, and what an incredible sight it was.
“Yeah, you win.” She huffed breathlessly. “I would give up cookies for that. Any day.”
*
Their sweaty bodies tangled together on the fluffy carpet, short breaths and beating hearts the only soundtrack of the moment. Wren’s heated flesh pressed tight against his as she rubbed petal-soft touches over his chest. He’d orgasmed only minutes before, yet she had his cock stirring with nothing more than the light caress.
Hugging Wren tighter with one arm, his other was behind his head as a pillow. That was when the plastic ball near his shoulder caught his attention. That was also when he knew, regardless of the awkwardness, is was time to discuss the hold that the little black toy had on his woman.
He gave her another tight squeeze—unsure if it was to reassure her or him—then rolled them to the side, grabbed the blanket that lay on the couch, and draped it over their cooling bodies. Wren was a beautiful woman, but after two orgasms, she glowed with sexiness. He didn’t want to take the sated look from her face, but with the feelings growing inside him, he needed to learn more, not hide behind sex, and certainly not behind fear.
Sliding his thumb beneath her chin, Logan tipped up her face. Her kiss-swollen lips were a songwriter’s dream as they parted, inviting him in for another taste. An invitation he couldn’t refuse, one he accepted with greed. Talk to her, his brain scolded. It’s time. She whimpered when he ended their kiss and tucked her head onto his chest, touching his lips to the crown of her head.
“Do you remember all those questions of yours I’ve kept track of?” When her body stiffened, Logan wrapped his arms around her, firming his embrace. He needed her to know that he wasn’t leaving her just because they had sex. But since they had crossed that boundary, he wanted more. “Now that you’ve shared your body, I need you to share your mind.” He placed another kiss on her head. “Tell me about the Fortune Ball, babe.”
Wren’s breath halted as silence fell between them. He thought maybe she would avoid the question, but she exhaled, her fingers drawing patterns over his chest, and nodded.
*
Shivering, Wren lifted the blanket higher on her body. “Let me grab my sweater first.”
“If you’re cold, come closer and I’ll warm you up.” Logan’s hoarse words sent a shiver of a different kind through Wren. “If you’re trying to put space between us, don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“That’s right, don’t. I asked you about the ball, which is obviously part of your past. We’re sitting here together in the present. I’m looking at you and can’t stop thinking about a future. Don’t put space between us. Instead, trust me not to hurt you. Trust what you feel.”
What she felt was too much, too soon, yet it felt right. She could share with Logan. She wanted to. “When I was sixteen, there was this guy…”
Wren went into detail about Thurston Mills, finding the Fortune Ball, and not listening to its advice. She described the shame and humiliation she felt after learning that the boy she’d crushed on had only been using her as a bet, the promise she’d made to always listen to the Eight Ball from that night forward, and of course, the multiple times that she had ignored her Ball and regretted her choices. She needed the FEB, plain and simple, because she didn’t trust herself.
Logan listened intently. He sounded enraged for her sixteen-year-old self, amused by some of the stories, and saddened by others.
“That’s why you d
idn’t go to graduate school?” Logan asked after Wren explained that the FEB had helped her make that decision.
“You don’t understand, Logan. My mom was sick and couldn’t work, so my dad was not just working double shifts but also taking care of my mom. I didn’t think it was fair to leave them while they were struggling. Not to mention they had a second mortgage on their house and couldn’t cosign my student loans.”
“But you said Marvin and Clara Hayden offered to cosign.”
Wren hated this topic. She and her parents, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Hayden, had discussed it ad nauseam when she turned down her acceptance to grad school. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else being disappointed in her decision. “They did, Lo. But it wasn’t their place to cosign for anything. The ball thought it was better if I continued to work for the factory, so I did. End of story.”
Judging by the look on Logan’s face, it was far from the end of the story, but she didn’t want to discuss it anymore. What she really wanted was to get back to enjoying the sexiness in front of her. “Any more questions out of you?” She ran her fingers up his naked thigh, stopping before she touched the hardening manhood making itself known through the blanket that rested across his lap.
“Yes.” Logan stood, the blanket dropping and leaving his chiseled body bare. “As a matter of fact, I do have another question.” His voice was barely a rasp as he helped her stand and pulled her tight against him. Her core tingled when his cock stood firm against her belly. “Was that the first time you’ve ever had ball-banging cookiesex?”
“Mhmm.” She giggled. “And I can honestly say Mrs. Russell’s cookies have never tasted better.”
“Decision time, lady.” Logan nibbled Wren’s earlobe. “The food or the company? Which was better?”
“I want to eat the company again. What’s that tell you?”
“Fuck me,” he said with eagerness in his voice as she led him up the stairs to her bedroom. “I’m not leaving tonight, Lucky. I hope you understand.”
She felt a warm glow move through her. “Yep, the company is totally my favorite part of the night.”
Chapter Twenty
What, This Old Thing?
Another day, another crotch. Thongs came down the line in various colors and sizes, pooling in a pile on Wren’s spot. She yawned into her elbow as her gloved fingers ran over the seams of cotton panels, checking them for stitching, pulls, and tears. There was an inspection checklist for every undergarment eligible for customer purchase.
“Yep, it’s official. I’ve touched more women’s crotches than any straight girl around.” Both her comment and snort were muted by the grinding and hissing of machines.
When she first had started working at the factory, she took pride in every pair of underwear she touched. After all, it was her number that graced the packaging. Then Dave the douche entered and made each shift a challenge to conquer, a frustration to deal with. However, with him gone, Wren realized there was absolutely nothing to stimulate her mind for nine hours a day. The douche had actually played a part in her daily life—who’d have thunk it? The new floor manager was nice in a generic corn flakes sort of way. He offered enough to keep the employees satisfied but wasn’t going to make any lasting impressions.
Grabbing another thong, Wren ran through the inspection checklist, stretching the front and back…
Snap. Before Wren could process what had occurred, a piece of pink cotton hit her cheek and slid to the metal countertop.
“Are you okay, Wrenny?” Mrs. Russell called from her iron station, concern as well as humor evident in her tone.
“Sure am. I guess that’s the true definition of crotchless panties.”
“Oh my.” The older woman clucked. “In my day, those only came in black and red.”
Thank goodness for Mrs. Russell. That woman was one of the only highlights of coming to work. The fact that it was hump day and she was seeing Logan after work made the day go quicker as well.
Other than their quick lunches, they hadn’t spent time together since their dinner date the previous Saturday night. She couldn’t eat a chocolate chip cookie without blushing anymore. Their phone calls and text messages were filled with sweet moments and sexy banter, their lunch dates with heated glances, wet kisses, and even a quickie in the backseat of Logan’s Explorer on Tuesday, but Wren was yearning for some quality time with Logan. Just the two of them, preferably naked and sweaty.
Logan: Sorry I can’t make lunch today. Looking forward to tonight.
Wren: Mmm, tonight. You. Me. The back of your truck, clothing and food optional ;)
Wren tucked her phone into her bag, grabbed her lunch, and headed for her car. Since she and Logan weren’t meeting up, she had promised Emmy a phone call. Her car was the only private place to chat.
*
Five shirts, three pairs of jeans, and four pairs of shoes later, Wren grabbed the purse that lay under the discarded clothes strewn across her bed, threw the ball inside, and raced down the stairs to open the front door. Logan stood outside in his leather jacket and faded jeans. His hair was perfectly tousled, the porch light adding even more highlights to the golden-brown strands that hung just a bit too long. The man probably put zero effort into looking like a god while she’d spent an hour and a half making herself look…
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Logan said before his mouth covered hers hungrily.
“What, this old thing?” she managed to say between kisses.
After Logan lifted her into his truck and closed the door, Wren inhaled deeply and smiled. Logan’s scent lingered on her coat. It was becoming a habit, even a joke, for her to rub against him like a cat in heat so she could smell him on her clothes and skin when they were apart. The woodsy cologne mixed with his natural scent was enough to make her wet and even get her off if she thought about him. Especially if he was on the phone, whispering naughty things in her ear.
“I bet if I touched you right now, you’d already be wet,” he said from the driver’s seat. She hadn’t even heard him get in the car. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“H-how did you know?”
His lips curled in a seductive smile. “You’re smelling me on the collar of your coat, your cheeks are the faintest shade of pink, and you’re biting your lower lip.” He glided his thumb across her bottom lip, releasing it from her teeth. “I’m hard just looking at you, so there is no way your panties aren’t soaked.”
They are now. Wren smothered her protest when Logan moved his hand from her face to the ignition and started the Explorer.
His eyes trained on hers, desire burning deep in the brown depths, he lowered his gaze to her mouth and licked his lips. “Shame.” He tsked. “Looks like we’re both gonna be uncomfortable for a little while.”
Wanting nothing more than to straddle him right there in the driver’s seat, Wren needed a second to process his words. “Wait, what? Why? You already guessed what was going through my mind, not to mention my panties.” She reached over the console and stroked his hard dick, enjoying the way his eyes grew heavy and his nostrils flared. “It’s obvious you want me too. Why don’t we have our dessert right now, then we can go for dinner?” Gah, this man makes me say things I never thought I’d say.
“Aw, babe,” Logan growled. He lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on her palm before setting it on her own thigh. “As much as I’d like nothing more than to be buried deep inside you, we have somewhere to be, and we can’t be late.”
Before Wren had a moment to shake off the lust, Logan had the car out of the driveway and headed onto the main road. She thought they were going to dinner, but as the minutes and street signs passed, she realized they were headed to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. It didn’t mean they were going far, but it did mean they were leaving the small area where they usually hung out.
*
“Where are we going?”
Logan didn’t need to see Wren’s face to know she was worried. Concern was heavy in her tone.
“Relax, beautiful, I’m taking you to my favorite place in the world.” He peered into the wide blue eyes of the woman sitting next to him and realized maybe, just maybe, that statement was no longer true.
After a couple more minutes, he swung into his dedicated parking spot behind the Shades of Music building. Pride zipped through him as he looked at the school from the outside. “I wanted to bring you here so you could see where I come each day. What I do.”
“It’s beautiful. You should be proud.”
He turned off the ignition and undid his seat belt. “Come on. I want to introduce you to my coworkers, see you in my space.” He had a surprise waiting for her inside and couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
“Umm…I…”
Then he realized Wren hadn’t undone her seat belt or moved. In fact, she barely looked to be breathing. “Come on, Lucky. A rehearsal for the spring show is starting in ten minutes, and I promised the director we’d drop in.”
With the color draining from her face, Wren grabbed her purse from the floor, perched it on her lap, and dug through the deep bag until she yanked the black orb from its depths. Logan hadn’t seen that thing since the night of the great ball-banging. Part of him had hoped, foolishly it seemed, that she no longer needed the damn thing now that they were truly together. Looked as though he was wrong.
“What are you doing, Wren?”
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to take such a big step.” She pointed at the building, “That’s your real life in there… your world.”
His pulse beat erratically as frustration churned in his gut. “What? We’ve spent time together nearly every day for weeks. We talk for hours a day. We’re already in each other’s lives. I’ve spent time in your world; now I want you in mine.”
Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.” Her gaze dropped to the ball. “Should I go into the school with Logan?”
–Outlook Not So Good–
“Logan… I’m sorry, I can’t. Not tonight.” Her eyes lowered to her hands. “A different time, I promise.”
