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He rubbed the head of his cock over my pussy from clit to slit, and I practically came just like that. But then he paused, his mouth pulling away just an inch. He was panting, his voice even rougher than before in its plea. “Tell me you’re not a virgin.”
I sputtered a laugh. “Of course not.”
Logan drew even farther back, his eyes abruptly darkening. “That fucker Scott Camden?”
I scowled back at him, momentarily distracted from the deliciousness of this dream. “I did date him for almost a year. I’m not a nun.” Logan had always seemed irritated by Scott, though he’d never made any concrete complaints. And him getting pissed off about it now was particularly ridiculous considering— “How many girls didyougive it up to on the first fucking date?”
Logan dropped his glower, looking briefly abashed, which confirmed enough casual hookups to send irritation flaring throughme. But then he leaned close again, his forehead coming to rest against mine, and said in a voice so taut it tugged at my heart, “None of them were you.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that either, but I did know I wanted to get this moment back on track before he had another change of heart. I gripped the side of his face and said, “It’s me now.” Then I yanked his mouth back to mine.
He growled against my lips, grasping my thigh, and plunged into me. He filled me so fast and well that a gasp jolted out of me.
With only a few pumps, he found just the right rhythm to send me soaring higher, faster than I’d ever thought was possible. With every roll of his hips, he drove the memory of those mildly satisfying hook-ups with my ex farther from my mind. I raked my fingers over the wet strands of his short-cropped hair, swaying to meet him as well as I could in my precarious position.
Logan kept his hand on my thigh to steady me and teased the other down my spine. His mouth traveled from my lips along my jaw and down the side of my neck, blazing a path over my skin. When I moaned, his breath stuttered.
“So fucking good,” I thought I heard him mumble. “Even better than I imagined.”
The possibility that he’d already imagined us doing this set me even more aflame. I trailed my fingers down his back, groped the solid planes of his ass, and moaned again when he thrust even deeper inside me.
He braced his arm against my back to curve me over and sucked the tip of my breast into his mouth. At the same time, he tucked his other hand between us. He flicked his tongue over my nipple as he pulsed his thumb against my clit and rammed into my pussy again.
I shattered. A cry that was almost a sob burst out of my throat. My head tipped back against the mirror, pleasure washing over me and wringing me out.
As the afterglow rippled through me, Logan pounded into me a few more times before following me over with one last groan. He eased to a stop, raising his head to lean it next to mine, still holding me in place on the sink. His heat wrapped around me.
I clung on to him in a daze. What happened now? Did I wake up?
Logan withdrew slowly and carefully. His jaw worked for a second. His expression had gone totally opaque, but his chest was still heaving as he recovered his breath.
He zipped up his jeans and eased me off the sink like I was a porcelain figure he was afraid of dropping, pulling my tank top back down over my chest. I reached to retrieve my pants and shimmied into them, still uncertain about where we stood.
“Thank you,” he said in a tight voice. “For looking after me. I’m okay. You should really get some sleep.” His tone lightened just slightly. “I don’t want to be responsible for ruining your perfect attendance record.”
There was enough of teasing note in that last line for me to relax a little. I touched his arm, thinking of the blood, the scrapes and cuts, the explanation he’d never really given for them. “Are you sure—”
“I’m fine, Maddie,” he said firmly. “It was just—a thing. No big deal, really. I was a lot closer to the house than to my apartment, so I thought it was better to get cleaned up here. That’s all. It’s over.”
That wasn’t enough of an answer, but I didn’t want to ruin whatever connection we’d just formed by badgering him more. “Okay,” I said, holding his gaze.
He looked back at me and gave me a crooked smile. I thought we came to some sort of silent agreement. I thought this was the start of something different.
So I caught his hand to give it a quick squeeze and headed back upstairs, thrilled by the thought that the boy I’d loved for a third of my life wanted me too, still half expecting to wake up and find out I’d dreamed the whole thing.
But I was wrong about a couple of things. I hadn’t dreamed it. And nothing was different at all.
After those last words in the basement bathroom, I didn’t hear a peep from Logan Brooks for two long years.
