LOGAN: lip emoji, eggplant emoji, water emoji
January started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop. This was another side of Logan she hadn’t seen, an even more playful Logan. Not unlike the teenage make-out one, but somehow different. One who used freaking emojis.
Emojis!
In all the time they’d know each other and the few days they had been texting each other since they started fucking, he had never…never, used a single emoji.
She had quit using them altogether herself because she felt silly since he never responded in kind. Now here he was, sending a string of them. She had to admit, she was blown away that he even knew what the eggplant was for.
Between the medicine and the whimsical schoolboy vibe Logan was sending, January was intrigued. Not to mention horny as fuck. What the hell?
JANUARY: Why not, it beats having my own hand down my pants. taco emoji, peach emoji
LOGAN: STOP! That ass, along with every other delectable part is mine to enjoy. You only come on my mouth, my cock, or my finger unless I say otherwise, understand, Rabbit?
January shuddered as she read the words. The images they evoked shot straight to her clit and stroked her with damn near as much precession as if Logan were there rubbing his piercing against her. The need to reach in the nightstand for her rechargeable boyfriend was overwhelming. “Logan’s words and speed five could ease my tension in under a minute,” she mumbled while reading his text again.
JANUARY: Ok, but hurry. If you’re not here in record time, I am reaching in the drawer and grabbing my vibrator.
LOGAN: Don’t you dare, that is my pussy and nothing goes near it without me. I’ll be there in 10. Unlock the window and be naked and ready for me. NO FUCKING DILDO!
January felt like she was floating. She wanted to blame it on the medicine, but the shit they gave her wasn’t really that strong; it was just a sprain, after all. She just wanted to blame it on anything other than what it was…Logan. She loved the possessiveness he was exhibiting.
She tried to convince herself it was just a sexual thing for him, even though she knew that wasn’t the case. The alternative meant he would be hurt when she left, and so would she, so she tried even harder to lie to herself. She wanted nothing more than to accept the truth and stay here with her sister, the Reids, and Logan. Especially Logan.
While she undressed, she let her mind wander. Imagining a life here was almost painful. She wanted it so much. She’d have to pay her parents back for college, but that wouldn’t be too hard. Her savings would make a huge down-payment to them, plus rent that garage on Sand Dollar.
It wasn’t until she was naked and climbing back into bed that she realized how seriously she had considered staying. Even if she and Logan weren’t an item, she was still keen on making a life here. So much so, she had met with a realtor about leasing the old garage. It was in need of some minor aesthetic repairs, but the building was sound and the lifts worked.
Jewel even offered her a deal with a cut in her commission because she adored Dax and Stacy. Truthfully, she was two seconds away from being adopted by the Reid clan like everyone else. January heard she sold Stacy’s house after she had to kill a man in it.
Of course, all that was just a fantasy, because even if she paid the Thornes—yep, that’s who they are now to me, parents wouldn’t do this—back and withstood the humiliation and guilt they’d dish out to have the life she now knew she wanted more than anything, she would never expose her sister’s business to have it.
Shaming herself was her choice to make, but not if that shame seeped over to Gus. Her sister had made a clean getaway, or so she thought. The Thornes used what leverage they would have had over Gus to their advantage with January; they couldn’t have it both ways. If they exposed Gus’ secrets, then January would be free and Gus would be devastated. As long as January was a good daughter, then Gus never had to relive losing her child or being shamed her whole life for being bipolar.
January had thought Gus might be able to handle all that since she had such a strong family now but could they handle the secretive nature of it all? Would they look at her the same when they found out she never shared those things with them before now, especially John?
They couldn’t possibly understand the influence her parents exerted on their daughters to keep their secrets. People outside of their family just could never comprehend the control they had instilled in them, the brain washing. They would simply see it as mistrust on Gus’ part for not telling them before now.
The look of betrayal coalesced in her mind as if it were etched on her sister’s beautiful face for real. It would be a final fuck you from her parents to ruin the daughter who got away. Nope, not going to happen. I will protect Gus’ secret. If and when she wants to share their family secrets with the Reids, it would be only Gus’ choice.
This way, Gus never had to know the shallow well of Melody and Thomas’ love for their own children. Gus had always defended them, to an extent, excusing their behavior to January as misguided love or maybe as a result of the twisted parenting examples they both came from. “They’re doing the best they can.” “They don’t know any better.” “It’s all out of love, sweetie. They just love us so much and they don’t know how to show it.” These were the things Gus told her growing up. Thank God, she stopped that shit now or I might have just showed her everything myself. Now Gus’ approach was more “their actions are bad and we need to move on.”
Just once, January would love to see Gus express her anger over their DNA donors. Really say what she thought of them. It was there, lurking in her eyes. January witnessed it more often than not whenever the subject came up. But ever reserved and diplomatic Gus wouldn’t be so bold as to just shout “fuck them. Fuck them so hard they never come unfucked.”
That actually lifted January’s darkening mood a bit, the thought of Gus f-bombing about the Thornes. As Stacy seemed fond of saying, “You have your therapy; I have mine. Never underestimate the cathartic power of the word fuck.”
A little fantasy world crept into her resigned brain. A world where Melody revealed all to Gus, but instead of being crushed by the revelation, a very Stacy-esque Gus arose. One who told Melody to get well and truly fucked and stay fucked until the mountains crumbled to dust. Gus would be free, really free…and so would January.
But that was just a fantasy for her. Maybe those types of things worked out for the Reids, but as much as she dreamt of being a Reid, she would always be a Thorne.
No, she was stuck. For ten long, loveless years, she’d be stuck. Sadly, she’d still be a Thorne, just a hyphenated one—Thorne-Rodgers. That wasn’t a bad price to pay to save her sister from having to live with the truth of the Thornes exposed to all. Gus deserved everything good in life, and January wouldn’t selfishly take that from her. Not when it is within my power to keep my sister from any more pain.
Logan stared down at his phone, not believing what he was texting to January. He had laid claim to her, right there in black and white. While it felt nice to expose that new-found part of himself, it was scary as fuck too.
Especially since he knew she had planned on bolting back home soon. After talking to Walker, Dax, and Frank, he had hope. Hope she might be convinced to hang around for a while and see where things led. Who am I kidding, I already know where I want them to lead.
Between the both of them, he was sure they could swing a respectable apartment close to the beach. That is, if I still have a job after I reveal myself to my brother and John doesn’t castrate me on Michael’s behalf. Actually, he was more worried about Stacy on that front. She was protective of Michael, and Logan had seen her heels that had hidden blades. That chick truly scared him.
Even if Michael wanted nothing to do with him, he would bear the shame and stick around for January. She deserved to have the Reids and her sister in her life. Besides, they had trained him well; he could get another job and make rent and whatnot. Plus, he had no problem with January stripping as long as she
came home to him.
He wasn’t thrilled about her shaking her perfect body for other men, but he would never make her feel less than in his eyes. Ever. Nor would he control her. He would suggest she move up to a classier establishment for safety reasons, but he wouldn’t tell her to quit. Logan knew first-hand how important her independence was to her. He saw it in her eyes every single time she mentioned home and her parents.
It never blazed more than when she mounted Demon or talked about what a fine piece of machinery he was. Maybe that independence would win out over dancing, but if not, he’d accept it. He would accept January any way he could have her.
Accept her the way she deserves, the way everyone deserves. The way I never was. Until now. The Reids had accepted him, most of them, anyway.
To control January would be to crush that part of her that was light to his dark, silk to his leather, calm to his chaos.
Frank had told him that no one was irredeemable. As long as they were breathing, they were worthy. Logan begged to differ with that as he dwelled on those words. To snuff out that essence in January would be a truly unforgivable act. The man who did that would be well and truly irredeemable.
As much as Logan had felt irredeemable all his many years, for once, he finally didn’t harbor that particular demon, and he’d be damned if he’d invite it back.
That thought took him aback. That was the first he realized he didn’t feel that way and it was…liberating. It may have been Frank’s words that set the realization in his mind, but the exorcism was all January.
True to his nature, instead of going on some existential journey of self-exploration, thoughts of January and exorcisms brought to mind Domino’s sexy little—and yes, borderline sacrilegious—nun outfit. Damn, my girl is so fucking hot, I will spend my life with third degree burns, but I am just fine with that.
Logan made his way toward January’s place. He parked down the road and hoofed it the rest of the way. He didn’t want to draw anyone else’s attention. If he did, he would be forced to come clean, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. He wanted to talk to January first, among other things. He also didn’t want to put a cloud of tension over the barbecue tomorrow.
If there was one thing the Reid family took seriously, it was their barbecues. That, and betting.
Logan wasn’t one to have a plan. As a rule, he would use a fly by the seat of your pants approach, but he made an exception.
Tonight, after he fucked his woman the way she deserved, he’d explain everything that had happened to him. Logan owed it to her, almost more than he did Michael. Since he had dropped the secret on her with no explanation, no finesse. He needed her to understand his initial motivation, why he was the way he was and all the unbearable details of his life, not just the highlights.
As hard as it was to swallow, he’d even share the unflattering thoughts he’d harbored toward his brother. Then, he’d ask her to be there for him when he had to tell Michael and Tori, and beyond. He tucked his hand in his pocket and stroked the ring and the folded piece of paper pushed next to it.
Both objects lightened his heart. With the clarity the men helped him find, it all seemed so unmistakable—him being a part of a real family and especially a relationship with January.
A chuckle escaped him. If he paid attention, he would have seen this coming a fucking mile away, but as it was, he was so focused on the nots, he never looked at the inevitable. The first time his eyes locked on hers, he knew, no matter how he tried to tell himself otherwise. Oh, it worked for a while—he believed his own bullshit, but obviously, certain members of the Reid family never did.
Logan was pulled out of his own head as he snuck past Marco and Andy’s place. The grin that split his face damn near hurt, it was so wide. There in the big picture window in front, he could clearly make out John and Gus. He paused for a moment, not really peeping on them, but he was fascinated by the scene. The way John and Gus were tight with Marco and Andy was unnatural, but not in a bad way. That is one lucky kid, Logan mused. With the curtains pulled back and the darkness outside, Logan could see the red wine glass Gus extended to Marco to refill. If he wasn’t mistaken, John was having a drink, too.
That meant he had January all to himself for at least a few hours. He licked his lips in anticipation and sprinted to her window. It was open just as he’d instructed, and that made him harder than he had been on the whole trip over.
Climbing into a window wasn’t as easy as it sounded, but doing it sporting wood, well, that made it damn near impossible to maneuver comfortably.
With his feet firmly on the floor and the window closed behind him, he examined the room for the first time. His breath locked in his chest. It wasn’t voluntary to hold it, but the sight before him forced it.
January, his January, was lounging on her side, with her head propped on her hand and staring straight at him. She looked regal there, her hair a halo, a crown of beauty, illuminated only by the soft candle light of the room shining through the strands. They looked like threads of gold filament, and Logan swallowed hard.
For a moment, he just drank in the sight. His nerves almost got the best of him, causing his emotions to shut down and turn this night into something physical and physical only. He fought through that instinct—not an easy task, but he managed.
That action blindsided him, and he gave the credit to the goddess who was currently crooking her finger his direction, beckoning him forward. Yet, here he stood, rooted to the ground like a tree and staring like a fool.
Just looking at her with the knowledge of what he felt and what he wanted was terrifying and exhilarating and amazing and…a million other words that escaped him at present, all simultaneously warring within him to take the top spot. As much as he wanted to tell her tonight, he also wanted to never tell her. Torn between freeing himself and enslaving himself with three not so simple words.
“Logan, what’s wrong?” Her concerned voice pulled him out of his head and uprooted his feet, putting him on the move. The bed dipped under his weight as he leaned over her, answering her question with his tongue.
She tasted like salvation. In that moment, he questioned his very sanity—not for the first time—for ever doubting it. They belonged together; it was unmistakable.
He felt Gene and Kip start to fade, and it was only fitting that Gene should linger just a bit with a smile. Logan realized he wasn’t crazy, and these weren’t manifestations of an unstable mind, but something he controlled and used—a tool, as Gus would say.
His tongue faltered at the thought. I should not have anyone else in my mind while I’m here with my girl, especially not her sister. Talk about a mood killer.
Logan shoved all thoughts from his mind, including the talks they needed to have, the logistics of it all, even the stress of how to tell her, and just enjoyed the slide of her skin beneath his rough palm.
Focusing on her little mewls, he was able to shut out the world and turn that bedroom into a sanctuary, a bubble, for just the two of them.
Thirteen
Logan was finally here, kissing her in a way that just felt different. Like something had changed for him in a good way. His lips felt freer.
When he faltered, her heart stopped. It was like he refused to be free, but that lasted a second before he was back to devouring her mouth with a sense of reverence.
Now it was her turn to falter. This was what she would miss the most now. This Logan, a free Logan…a Logan she would give herself to tonight, knowing the price she would pay for it. One who would carry her heart from this day forward.
At least it would be safe with him, far away from her mother and her—the word repulsed her—husband. The drawback was, it would also be far away from her. She wondered how long her sanity would survive trapped in the shell that would house it for the next decade?
If only Logan had stayed disconnected. He was a cocky man-whore, or so she thought, and that was exactly what she’d wanted. Even when part of that assessment blew up in her fa
ce, she was still jumping on his cock regularly. Convincing herself he was not a one-woman-man or the settling down type was the illusion she needed to knowingly continue her path to heartbreak.
If only he had been all she’d expected of him and nothing more, it would have been perfect. Instead of a cocky bastard she half-expected to hate fuck until she went to her doom, she got a cocky bastard she was making love to with her soul.
Logan's lips stalled, and he pulled away. He thumbed away the dampness plaguing her cheeks.
The confusion and concern in his eyes broke her. “What’s wrong, Rabbit?” He looked so lost, then a spark of knowing lit in his whiskey depths. Pushing back even further, he reached for her hand. “Shit, did I—"
“Oh, God, no,” she blurted. She was compelled to erase that look of guilt, and she did, but now she needed to come up with a reasonable explanation why she was upset. Anything but the truth. But what could she possibly say to explain away tears during foreplay? “I’m just tired, and I’m going to miss everyone when I leave and…” now she was butting up too close to the truth, “well, you know hormones.” Yeah, real slick, Jan, real fucking slick, sinking to hormones?
He didn’t buy it, not one bit. One eyebrow cocked up with the side of his mouth. It was the look. Oh, God, I know his looks. I am so fucked. Before she started bawling like a baby, she reversed their positions and slid down his body. What man could think about anything else when he was getting blown?
January pushed his shirt up and peppered kisses along his torso, while her hand massaged his pecs. Keeping her ass in the air was a distraction tactic, too.
Logan was intense at maintaining eye contact while she sucked him off from her knees, but, when he was reclined, he loved the lines of her body when her head was lower than her ass.
Unmistakably Us (Imagine Ink Book 5) Page 14
