She (31 page)

“No peeking,” he grins, as he steps forward and I step backwards and we slowly make our way into the middle of the room.

In my peripherals I can see a flickering orange-y light, and I can feel warmth against my back, so abruptly I realise the words I heard Logan utter were
fire on
. I want to turn and look at it, having not yet seen it aflame, but I fight my urge, letting Logan reveal his surprise the way he wants to.

He holds me and directs me to the perfect revelation spot, and then stops. Smiling at me, he says, “Last week you conveyed your disappointment about a certain design element of my apartment. One that was not thought through to your exacting standards,” he tells me, and I franticly try to remember what my criticism was. “Today,” Logan continues, “I have had that flaw rectified for your —
our
— pleasure. You may turn around now,” he allows.

With a brief grin at him, I spin around and what I see before me instantly makes me smile widely. I suddenly remember my comment about not being able to
shag on the shag
in front of the fireplace. Well, Logan’s created the next best thing! He and Buddy have turned one of his sofa’s in the living room around and pushed it next to the fire place; now we can shag on the sofa in front of the fireplace!

“Lights,” Logan calls again, and darkness falls around us, leaving only the glow of the firelight to see by.

I step towards it, drawn in by the flames, relishing the warmth they give off. I stare mesmerised into the depths of the embers. It’s going to be a hot,
hot
night!

I turn and look at Logan. I swoon at the way he looks at me. “Very attentive, as ever, Logan,” I murmur, lovingly. “Very thoughtful.
Very
romantic!”

He smiles, looking pleased with himself, glad that I like it. Then his eyes soften slightly as he takes me in, stationed next to the fire. “You look sensational in firelight,” he says earnestly.

I smile back at him. “It’s very warm,” I tell him, letting my jacket slide off of my shoulders. Then I unbutton my blouse…and within two slow-moving minutes I am naked before him. I look down and study myself, and then I turn around to check out the back view. Standing face on again, I ask Logan, “How do I look now?”

I can tell from the tension in his stance that he’s holding himself back, stopping himself from running to me. He lets himself relax and just observe me; the way the firelight illuminates my bare skin.

“You are transcendent, Gemima,” he whispers in awe.

A shiver of satisfaction runs through my body. I love doing these sorts of audacious things with Logan. The reactions I garner from him make me feel so sexy, so wanted, and I make myself feel so confident and bold. I’ve never been with anyone that makes me feel so strong in myself.

“I take it we’re skipping dinner,” I say, continuing our playful exchange.

“Oh, no, I plan on eating,” Logan smirks, and my insides quiver. “Three courses.”

“
Three
?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Entre,” he shows me his hands; he’s going to pleasure me with those first. “Main,” he points to his smiling mouth; that’ll be second. “And dessert,” he indicates his crotch; and finally, we’ll have sex.

“I see. And what, prey-tell, did I do to deserve such…fine dining?” I ask.

“Oh, baby!” Logan laughs. “You did
that
!” he says, pointing to my pile of clothes and evidently referring to my strip. “Amid a million other things!”

I smile. “Very well,” I consent.
I guess I could let him feast on me
, I think slyly to myself. “I do, however, have one dietary requirement…”

“Which is?” he grins.

“I always eat dessert first,” I point out.

Logan’s eyes widen. “Is that so?” He scans my body and I feel an erotic charge pulsate through me. “I can accommodate your dietary requirement,” he says immediately.

“Good,” I giggle, anticipation taking ahold of me. Even after Logan has made love to me so many times, I still anticipate the next time; the very thought of it thrills me! “Well…whenever you’re ready,” I grin at him. “I’ll just wait here.” I turn my back on him, facing the fire once more. I sway my hips and raise my arms above my head as I start to dance on the spot.

I don’t hear Logan move, but suddenly he’s here, right here behind me, his lips showering kisses along my shoulder. “I don’t believe you sometimes,” he says to me.

I turn abruptly. “What don’t you believe?” I want to know.

“That you’re really here, in my apartment.”

I reach my hand out and touch the flume of the fireplace with one finger.
Ouch
! It stings and smarts. “Yup,” I mumble, sticking my finger in my mouth, “I’m really here!”
“Gemima!” Logan reprimands, pulling my hand, examining the burnt finger and then sticking it in his own mouth. He sucks on it, and somehow I can feel his actions in my groin. Oh, Logan, how do you do this to me?

I stare up at him, my mouth slightly parted. The harder he sucks my finger the stronger I feel it down below. My breathing speeds up, and sensing my growing desire, Logan takes his other hand, places it on the back of my head and forces my mouth to his. I let my hand fall from his mouth as he kisses me passionately, our tongues crushing against one another, never able to get enough, always wanting more. My fingers fumble to open his jacket, which I then force off of his shoulders. I grab the hem of his tee-shirt and pull it up, interrupting our kiss in order to get it over his head. Then I run my hands over his bare chest and exposed stitches, loving the feeling of his soft skin.

“I love feeling your skin against mine,” I tell him, pushing my torso against his. The soft, silken movement feels divine!

Logan undoes his belt, and the button and zip of his jeans and lets them fall to the floor. He reaches to the ground, pulling his boxers down, and then he steps forward, out of both of them, leaving his shoes behind as well. He wraps his arms around my body and holds me tightly and tenderly.

“You are
so
god damn sexy!” his voice purrs in my ear. “You have no idea how much you turn me on!”

I sneak-a-peek down at Logan’s crotch. “I’ve quite a
big
idea, actually,” I laugh cheekily.

“Big?” Logan looks smug.

“Oh,
please
!” I scoff, and he chuckles. “You
have
to know how blessed you are, Logan!”

He smiles at me before his mouth swoops down and claims mine once more. This time when we kiss we move over to the sofa and Logan lays me down and then lies on top of me pushing me into the soft fabric.
Ah
,
dessert
, I think happily. His lips leave mine as he buries his face into my neck, kissing and sucking at my skin.

I gaze over at the fire and smile. This is exactly what I wanted: Logan to make love to me in front of the open fire. He does so tenderly, romantically, fulfilling every expectation I had of this moment. I forget my concerns from this morning about Logan being too weak from his operation to govern things on top; he’s not! He takes me there, and I him. As always. Proving that lightning does, in fact, strike multiple times.

*

Hours later, I wake with a start as the elevator pings, the doors slide open and someone walks into Logan’s apartment. I peer over the edge of the sofa but with the lights off and only the firelight to see by, I can’t see who it is; only that it’s a man. I throw a quick glance to the luminescent clock in the kitchen. What time is it?
Eleven-forty-five
.

I prod and poke Logan who’s lying draped over me. He mumbles quietly as I rouse him from his slumber.

“There’s someone here!” I whisper urgently.

Immediately his eyes dart open; he surveys me warily. “Lights,” he commands, twisting his torso and sitting up. I sit up behind him.

In the doorway of Logan’s man’s den Buddy shouts in surprise as the lights come on and he is busted.

“What the fuck, you guys!” he cries. In his arms he’s holding a notepad and a measuring tape, and he has a pen stashed behind his ear. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”

“What are you doing here?” Logan asks, now suddenly awake and alert.

“I heard
you
tell Gemima something about going to her house tonight!” he exclaims.

“I repeat, what are
you
doing here?”

“Well, I’m taking measurements, aren’t I?” Buddy says as if it’s obvious.

“For what?” Logan and I ask together.

“For the present I’m getting the two of you. You set me a challenge and now I have to deliver something
better
than mirrors!” he says, exasperatedly.

I grin at him. Logan’s best friend is competing with my best friend to see which of them can deliver the better sexual gift! Oh, this is fun!

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Buddy explains. “You’re not allowed to see…I’ll have to come back another time.”

“We’re going away this weekend,” Logan tells him. “You can come back then.”

“Alright… So, uh, what were you two doing, then?” Buddy grins. “On the sofa, in front of the fire, no less. Logan, you old romantic!” he teases.

“We were sleeping,” I tell Buddy.

He laughs, disbelievingly. “I think we’ve established that you two
don’t
sleep! Does this make us even?” Buddy asks Logan.

“No, we
were
sleeping,” Logan insists.

“Oh,
yeah
, right!”

I laugh at his reaction and at the thought that even after such a short time together Logan and I already have a reputation!

“It’s safe to say that I
don’t
believe you,” Buddy scoffs. “You are
totally
naked under that blanket.”

“It’s a throw, not a blanket,” Logan tells him, and I beam at him with pride.

Buddy leaves swiftly, seemingly under the impression that he interrupted us mid-sex, despite our insistence that he didn’t. Logan and I then relocate to the bedroom where I’m awoken the next morning by the feeling of being watched. Sure enough when I blink my eyes open, Logan is lying next to me on his side, watching me doze.

I roll onto my side to face him.

“I’ve been thinking,” he tells me, “about something I overheard the nurses at the hospital talking about.”

“Hmm?” I mumble, sleepily.

“They were gossiping about their weekends, talking about getting laid, and a couple of them agreed that as long as they came, they didn’t care
who
they were sleeping with.”

I nod. “Sometimes all people want is an orgasm,” I mutter.

“Exactly. It got me thinking that sometimes sex is
just
a pursuit of an orgasm. And,” he shrugs, “I thought that was kind of…shit.”

“Shit?” I giggle. “You don’t think the point of having sex is to have an orgasm?”

“No,” he says clearly. “An orgasm is a, a byproduct, if you will. The
point
is to connect, to make love.”

His words make sense to me. And for a man who doesn’t like ‘fucking’ they’re an obvious opinion; Logan doesn’t like having sex if there’s no emotional context. Neither do I. But now that I think about it that’s probably what I was having with Jerry for the last few years of our relationship, at least. It was just habit. Stupid habit. And that’s why with Logan, now that I
feel
what he evokes in me emotionally, the sex is
so
much better.

“You know,” Logan continues, “that’s why tantric people go for hours.”

Hours?
Mmm
! An early morning carnal shiver courses through my body, awakening every sleepy part of me.

“They linger in that pre-orgasm state, in a place of love and passion and pleasure,” he tells me, and my lips curve involuntarily into a smile at the very thought of lingering in such a heightened, erotic, pleasurable state.

“Did you go to India on your travels? Or have you been visiting my friend Google again?” I ask.

Logan smiles at me. “I don’t know how I know that…I just do.”

“Hmm…I’m afraid you’re going to have to show me what you mean,” I feign ignorance, but I can’t keep the mischievous smile from my face. Under the cover I lift my leg and rest it on Logan’s naked thigh.

Logan smiles, too. He slides one arm under the curve in my neck and reaches down my back, holding me to him. The other hand he runs up and down my raised leg, caressing my thigh, and then he forcefully pushes my backside forward, pushing my sex against his.

My mouth parts in an O shape as I feel him hard against me. I’m held by his strong hands. His lips brush softly against mine, and his eyes look at me in that adoring way they do. I am seduced. He’s a combination of the sexiest and sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

Hours doing this?
That won’t be one bit a problem
, I think.

“I’ll show you
exactly
what I mean,” he says.

And he does! It’s the longest we’ve ever lasted. Logan proves his point expertly, making love to me, lingering with me in a state of pure coital bliss. When I do explode, some thirty minutes later, I do so slowly, experiencing a release that is gratifyingly ongoing and beautifully drawn out. I call out effusively, feeling wholly grateful to myself for faking ignorance, and lighting a fire in Logan that set him on his point-proving mission.

Afterwards I lay panting, until I finally have the breath enough to say, “Do you pray, Logan? Because, I swear, someone up there is on your side!”