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Logan and I kept the talk light as the familiarity of London approached, more talk about work and books and a whole host of other stuff scratching the surface. We were talking about the difficulty in estimating people’s time left alive when he asked me the question.
“Given your absolute vocation was helping people through their medical challenges, what made you opt to train to be a nurse and not a doctor?”
I laughed. “I hardly think I could be a doctor somehow.”
He didn’t laugh along with me. His voice was deadly serious as his eyes met mine in the mirror. “What makes you think that?”
I looked out of the window as I answered, trying to keep my voice light. “I’m hardly a super genius, and university and training would take forever and cost a fortune, and what if I didn’t make it?” I paused. “My parents were pretty hard up when I was young. Dad says that dreaming too high achieves nothing. I always figured nursing would be best for me. I love nursing, anyway. It makes me super happy.”
“You make an excellent nurse,” he said, and I felt that burst of pride down deep.
“Thanks.” Another goofy one-word response with my cheeks flaming bright.
He carried on. “I think you’d make an excellent doctor too.”
“Thanks,” I said again. “Maybe in an alternate dimension somewhere I’ll be one.”
Once we were back on familiar turf I expected Logan to begin making plans to drop me back at Mum and Dad’s, but he didn’t.
“You’ll need your uniform for the morning,” he said. “We need to call in and collect it from your parents’ place, yes?”
My voice was weak and wobbly as I gave him directions, pointing him onto my parents’ estate with shaky fingers, still in shock that I was staying the full weekend. He pulled up outside and it felt like I was already in some alternate dimension, Logan Hall and his mum at the bottom of the front lawn. Maybe I really would be a doctor someday. I laughed inside at the thought.
I dashed up the front path and through the front door with enough of a bound to jolt Mum and Dad out of their seats in the living room.
“Just grabbing some bits and I’m off again,” I said with a wave, and was straight on upstairs, piling my uniform and a few more clothes into a bag along with my charger and my own toothbrush.
I gave them another wave on my way out, and Beano a bit of a fuss en route, but I hardly caught a breath until I was sliding back into the backseat.
“And here she comes,” Logan said, turning in his seat to face me with a smirk. “The white rabbit, dashing, dashing, dashing. Wouldn’t think you’d just climbed a mountain with how much energy you’ve still got in you.”
“I’ve always had a lot of energy,” I told him. “Mum and Dad called me jitterbug when I was a kid.”
“Jitterbug,” he said. “Suits you.”
Jackie was still sound asleep when we pulled up on Logan’s driveway. We were careful when we moved her back to her bedroom, making sure she was snuggled up nicely before Logan switched off her lamp and said goodnight.
And then it was there all over again.
The pulse of need for the man standing in front of me on the landing.
The nerves right the way through me.
The shiver of want through my spine.
His eyes were as dark as I’d seen them. His jaw was as firm as I knew.
My fingers twisted. Twisted. Twisted. Nervous.
My words caught. Stumbling.
He closed the distance.
His hands were hot. His mouth was hotter.
My arms were a frenzy, his were firm, owning me as he paced me back into the bedroom and threw me onto the mattress. I was already whimpering, already desperate as his weight crushed down on mine. Desperate for the grind. Desperate for his flesh. Desperate for him with every scrap of me.
I squirmed out of my clothes and tore him out of his, and he didn’t stop kissing me, didn’t stop grinding himself in just the right spot to send me wild. I was tugging, coaxing, straining to pull him inside me, but he didn’t let me have him, just kept me simmering. Teasing. Grinding just enough to set me on fire.
Then he flipped us over and pulled me up on top, my legs spreading wide as he slammed his cock up deep inside me.
I was riding him.
I was riding Logan Hall.
The lamps were bright, and I was exposed in the spotlights, and his stare was fierce, but for the first time in my life I felt I belonged there. I was on display, bold and bright, and I felt amazing for it. My scars and imperfections loved the light.
Loved him.
My hips circled, breaths ragged. His hands were rough on my tits, twisting my nipples and tugging, and I felt it right the way down to my clit.
