She (36 page)

He loses his cool completely. “You’re a fucking
WHORE
!” he shouts at me.

He’s not the only one to lose control. Too fast to see, Logan punches Jerry in the face. Jerry stumbles backwards into the wall, clutching his eye.

Shit
!

That was too big of a blow to be handing out only three days after having surgery! I take Logan’s hand and pull him to the door that conceals the stairwell before any of Jerry’s friends can join the fight. I push Logan through the door, he goes easily, and I throw a glance back at Jerry.
He’s fine
, I tell myself. He’s rubbing his temple, and clearly pissed off, but the fire in him seems to have been knocked out.
About fucking time
! Our eyes meet for half a second and if looks could kill then I’d be murdering him right now!

“Walk,” I tell Logan, bringing my attention back to him and giving him a little shove, so that he starts descending the steps ahead of me.

I watch him warily. The force of that punch was definitely enough to rupture his stitches and possibly even cause a hernia.
Is he stooping
?
Is he wincing
? He seems OK; quiet, but OK. At the bottom of the stairs he waits for me, looking at me with the same wariness that I feel inside.
Why
? I wonder.

“Are you alright?” I ask him, nervously.

“Am
I
alright?” he seems surprised by my question.

Before he can answer me, I peer into his open tuxedo jacket and see that his white shirt has a bright red splotch on it: his stitches
have
burst, and he’s bleeding!

“Dammit, Logan!” I shout, panic in my voice. What do I do about it? Is this serious? Does he need to see a doctor? I shake my head.
Don’t think morbid thoughts
,
Gemima
. He’ll be fine, I tell myself insecurely, just get him back to the hotel.

We walk the whole way back in silence, me marching slightly ahead of him (forgetting both the pain in my feet and my desperate need to pee) holding tightly onto his hand and throwing frequent, furtive glances back at him. I feel only marginally better when we reach the hotel.
He’d be in pain by now if something were wrong
, I think, as the elevator delivers us quickly to our floor. Once in our suite I let go of his hand and glance around the room. Hmm, I need something to stop the bleeding. I make a beeline for the bathroom. Logan follows me quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he says to me.

“So you bloody should be,” I say, instantly regretting my choice of words.
Bloody
. “You could have seriously hurt yourself, Logan,” I reprimand him, waving the toilet paper that I’ve plucked in his face. “Take off your jacket,” I order. “Please,” I add.

He does as I ask him, looking at me suspiciously. The bright colour of his blood captures his attention and he stares down at it. “Oh…I’m bleeding,” he says, innocently surprised.

“Yes! You idiot!”

Logan’s head snaps back up to me, and a smile that is too adorable for me to be mad at spreads across his face. “Is…is
that
why you’re upset?” he grins. “Because you think I’m hurt?”

I glare at him. “Obviously!” I exclaim.
Why else
? “Are you sure you feel OK?” I check.

“I’m fine, baby,” he coos. He lifts his arms and stretches up. I gasp, waiting. If something were amiss inside, that movement would be agony. He’s telling the truth; he
is
fine.

I sigh in relief, relaxing and unconsciously shaking my body loose of unwanted tension. I take off his tie and unbutton his shirt and use the paper to dry up the blood, what little there is of it. Thankfully, it’s already stopped bleeding. All the while Logan is smiling at me, finding something very amusing.

“What’s so funny?” I snap, trying to ignore how delectable his dimples are and how much I want to kiss them.

“I, uh, thought you were upset because you were concerned for Jerry, not concerned for me,” he explains.

I stare at him blankly. “You’re all foam and no beer, then, aren’t you?” I blurt out loudly.

Logan bursts into laughter, his arms encasing me, and I melt against him.
Silly
,
silly Logan
!

“So, you
don’t
care that I punched him?” Logan checks.

“No! He deserved it,” I say with conviction.

Logan looks pleasantly surprised. “I think so too,” he nods.

“I only care about
you
. I only care that
you’re
OK,” I tell Logan quietly. “You got that?” I ask and he nods, smiling at me again.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, baby,” he leans down and kisses my lips gently. “I promise you, I am fine,” he assures me again, stroking my cheek.

I glance down at his stitches once more, double checking that the bleeding has stopped. The sight of his taut and muscular chest derails my thoughts completely. Automatically I place my hands on his stomach, relishing the feeling of his bare skin. When I look back up into his light-green eyes, he grins at me. He knows the affect that he has on me; he
so
knows. His dimples steal my attention again and this time I don’t resist them. I reach up and kiss both of them, and I linger with my lips against his cheek, savouring the feeling.

“Will you let me make it up to you?” Logan whispers into my ear.

“There’s nothing to make up for, Logan,” I say. Then I catch myself. “Wait, why did I say that? Why am I refusing?” I ask myself out loud. “Ask me again,” I tell Logan cheekily.

He laughs, enjoying my mini-monologue. Then he does as I request, saying, “Let me make it up to you, Gemima.”

I grin at him. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

13. You Got It

In the morning we wake up in the bedroom, which is not where we fell asleep. Last night my inner tourist burst forth from me and I excitedly pulled the duvet and pillows off of the bed, perplexing Logan, and dragged them to the base of the large window in the living room. We lay on the floor, consumed with each other, able to look out and see the Eiffel Tower. We migrated back to the bedroom sometime during the night.

I’m comfortable in this bed. Too comfortable. I yawn and stretch leisurely and I don’t want to leave its warm embrace to go to work. I don’t want to leave the company I’m keeping either.

I lie flat on my tummy while Logan lies next to me on his back, the covers only coming up to our waists; apparently they didn’t make it all the way back onto the bed like we did. I rest on my elbows and stare at the clock on the bedside table. I’ve only got fifteen minutes of allotted snoozing time. Ah, at least tomorrow is the weekend!

Logan reads my mind, muttering sleepily, “Tomorrow you can sleep ’til noon. But I don’t think you’ll want to,” he smiles to himself. “I think you’ll want to be wide awake given where we’re going.”

“Which is?” I ask.

“Still a surprise,” he keeps his secret.

I groan dramatically. “Hmm, I never do want to sleep ’til noon when there’s someone so irresistible lying next to me,” I say, resting my head and hand on his chest. His skin feels so good against my cheek; he’s the perfect pillow. “Is your belly OK this morning?” I ask, lightly touching the wound that reopened last night.

“Yes,” he says, reassuring me. “Are you still not mad at me?”

“I’m still not mad,” I laugh, kissing his chest. “You don’t need to wait for that to change, Logan, it’s not going to,” I promise him.

I recall last night in the gift of hindsight and find myself feeling (surprisingly) satisfied by Logan’s defensive actions. Now that I’m not worrying about his post-surgery-state, I can enjoy the memory of Jerry being brought back down to Earth with a good thump.
Prick
! I also note my envy at not having slapped him myself. The shit surely deserved it!
At least Logan got one in
, I think happily.

“I haven’t hit someone in…seventeen years,” Logan reminisces.

I suddenly blanch. “Do
you
feel bad about it?” I ask quickly, the notion only now coming to me. I instantly feel neglectful for not having considered it earlier given Logan’s troubled past.

“No, not exactly,” he says slowly, wary about divulging more.

I stare at him impassively for a moment, silently begging him to continue.

He smiles a little as he studies my face and then he tells me, “I don’t want to do it again. I don’t like being reminded of who I used to be. That’s why I was so edgy last night, I think. Jerry brought something out in me that I don’t really like.”

I nod my understanding, happy that he told me. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t see anything in you last night that I didn’t like, or love,” I tell him.

He reaches out and cups my face in his hands, looking at me in adoration. “You have
no
idea how much it means to me to hear you say that, Gemima,” he says quietly and with emotion.

“It means a lot?” I ask with a smile.

“Yes. An awful lot.”

“I’m glad,” I admit, shuffling up the bed a little to kiss his lips. I like being able to provide him with such deep reassurance. “You’re the loveliest, kindest, most thoughtful man I’ve
ever
known, Logan. Don’t ever let anything make you doubt that.”

He smiles at me. “You’ve just done in three seconds what it took me years to do,” he says.

“Which is?” I wonder.

“Make me feel at peace with myself.”

I grin back at him, noting that of all the beautiful things Logan has said to me,
that
is my favourite! “You are very welcome,” I tell him, before leaning over him and kiss him fervently.

After several passionate moments, I start trailing the hand that I’ve rested on his chest south towards his sex. As I graze over his stomach I feel him tensing, knowing where I’m headed. At his glory trail my hand slips under the covers and out of sight. Logan’s breath hitches when I take him in my hand. He’s rising to meet me, hardening quickly under my touch. I love feeling him change; I love feeling him stiffen and ready himself, it’s such a turn on! I kiss him deeply as I start stroking him. His hands stay by his sides and he lies still, letting me pleasure him.

I move my hand a little faster and Logan moans into my mouth. The sound awakens every cell in my body. I’m full of desire for this man next to me. This man that I love utterly.

“If this is what I get for causing trouble, I might have to be bad more often,” Logan whispers to me, his eyes playful and his breathing ragged.

“
Mmm
,” I suck on his bottom lip, “I do like the thought of you coming to
me
to get your trouble,” I whisper back, before claiming his mouth with my own again.

I change the pace of my stroking, teasing him, winding up the erotic thrill within him and lengthening his pleasurable state. I can tell he’s close to orgasm when his hands grip the bed either side of him and he starts rising his hips slightly to meet my hand.

“
Yes
,
Gemima
,” he mewls, pushing his head back into the pillow, his eyes closed and his mouth open in ecstasy. “
Ah
,
baby
!”

Suddenly his eyes open and we gaze at each other. Immediately I smile. I enjoy seeing him come undone beneath me, I enjoy seeing him feel
this
good. He deserves it. In this moment he is both brave and vulnerable, and he lets me see each part of him in equal measure. I feel closer and more connected to him because of it.

“My neat freak, you’re going to need a tissue,” he tells me. “Fast,” he hastens to add with a little laugh. He looks at me with amorous eyes, so close to his release.

I shake my head at him.
I have other plans
,
Logan
. I lean down and cover his face and neck in kisses, as he groans in gratification. He calls out loudly as he comes, music to my ears, releasing himself forcefully. Quickly, I shimmy down his body and take his tip into my mouth, cleaning him.

“
Fuck
,” he groans in ecstasy, and squirms sensitively under my tongue, making me smile.

Then I lick his belly where the rest of his ejaculation landed.
See
,
Logan
,
no tissue needed
. I crawl back up his body, kissing him as I go.

“That was
hot
!” he pants, when we’re face to face.

“I thoroughly enjoy doing that to you,” I grin.

Logan chuckles, “I thoroughly enjoy it, too.”

I kiss him passionately, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, letting him taste himself. “You taste good,” I say, against his open mouth.

“You’re mimicking me,” he says, referring to when he uttered those words yesterday.

“Am I?” I smile.

“Yes,” he smiles back, “Except you’re doing a far sexier job of selling it than I ever could.”

“Logan Leary, you underestimate your powers of seduction,” I tell him honestly.

“Do I?” he chuckles, already knowing the answer.

I nod.

“So, I could seduce you to do
anything
?” he asks, a greedy and mischievous glint in his eye.

I go through the possibilities in my mind: what haven’t we done? I guess there’s anal. Hmm, no, I can’t find the desire within me for that.

“Almost anything,” I tell him.

He smiles at me again, his best tool for seduction. “I want to make you come,” he says.

“Fine by me!” I laugh.

“On my face,” he adds, and my eyes widen. He grins at my reaction. “Is that OK, baby?” he asks, biting his lip, arousing himself by merely mentioning it.

“You want me to sit on your face?” I whisper.
Why
are you whispering, Gem? There isn’t an intercom to the whole hotel listening in!

Logan nods, his expression curious. He’s not wary or cautious to ask me; he’s turned on and eager for my answer. The erotic image his request produces in my mind is enough to make me convulse. But…but...

“But you’ll suffocate!” I exclaim.

Logan stares at me for the briefest of moments before laughing harder than I’ve ever seen him laugh before. I smile, watching him.

“I’m…not…going to…suffocate!” he says breathlessly.

“You might,” I point out. “And how would I explain that to the police?”

“Death by vagina!” Logan laughs.

“It’s happened before,” I say, in a mock serious voice.

“When has it
ever
happened before?”

“Well…”
Think fast
! “I’m not sure, but my friend Google will know.” Ordinarily I would grab my phone, find the answer I’m seeking and make my point, but with this particular subject, I don’t. I’m not keen to have the phrase ‘
has anyone been killed by a vagina
’ in my search history!

There’s another reason why I don’t fight my corner…because I want Logan to make me come in this way. I want him to make me come in whatever way he desires.

“Alright,” I whisper in his ear.

“I
knew
you’d want to,” he says, still chuckling.

Then, quite suddenly, he rolls over to lie on top of me, pushing me firmly into the soft mattress.
Ah
, I love feeling him on me! He kisses me, deeply, a kiss filled with carnal longing. It makes my insides squirm and writhe, and I know I’m wet down below, ready for him. I wrap my legs around his, running my heels down his calves, keeping him locked in place.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he says into my mouth. “I’m not staying,” he grins, beginning his descent.

I release him from my grip, I’m already panting as he kisses my breasts; I’m
so
full of anticipation! I arch my back against him, relishing the feeling of his tongue on my nipples. He moves lower, licking my stomach and belly button. My legs are open and he lies between them, his head on my tummy, and his clavicle pressed up against my sex. I writhe against the pressure he applies, but all too soon he’s gone, moving further south still.

He kisses my inner thighs, getting close to my sex but never reaching it. He’s teasing me, driving me wild. He stops kissing my skin and puts his lips close to my clitoris. He blows.

Ah
!

I moan loudly, so turned on, so stimulated by the forceful jet of air. He continues, stimulating me from all angles, blowing hard and soft, pushing me onwards and then pulling me back. It’s incredibly frustrating! It’s incredible!

“
Logan
!” I whimper, feeling so close and yet so far. I thought he wanted me to sit on him? Evidently he’s changed his mind.

He sends another jet of air to just the right spot with just the right amount of pressure, and I’m pushed to the very brink.

“
Ah
!
Yes
!” I beg, “Don’t stop!”
Please
,
don’t stop
!

He doesn’t; he blows again, and I orgasm spectacularly, calling out his name. He’s made me come…and he’s not even touching me!

My whole body relaxes, feeling loose and gratified. I
love
starting my day like
this
! I take several deep breaths, allowing my heart rate to return to normal, my hands tugging gently at Logan’s hair.

“You’re going to have to scooch up,” he tells me. “I want to lie flat.”

“For what?” I ask, sitting up and moving my ass further up the bed.

He looks at me, puzzled. “For when you sit on me,” he explains. “I want to lie flat,” he says again, and now that I’ve moved he does so.

“You…you still want to do that?” I’m confused.

“Of course,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “That was an accidental orgasm,” he tells me.

It’s my turn to burst into laughter. “A
what
?”

He smiles at me, lying upside down on the bed. “It wasn’t my intention, I was supposed to stop, but those sounds you make, Gemima…they drive me crazy!” He rubs his face with his hands frustratedly, as though I
literally
drive him crazy. “You know I’m greedy,” he says, looking at me again. “I always want to hear more.”

Oh my god
, I think. I’ve done it, I’ve found the world’s perfect man, I celebrate internally. I lean down and give him an upside down kiss. “Greed is really underrated,” I smile at him.

He chuckles. “Climb aboard, Ma’am,” he says quickly. He looks like he’s anticipating this more than I am! The desire in the way he watches me move towards him, like he can’t wait to have me on him, is enough to make me convulse anew.

I straddle his face. “Don’t suffocate,” I tell him.

“I won’t,” he laughs, and then I lower myself down, bringing my sex to meet his wanting mouth.

He claims me straight away, brushing his tongue the entire way along my sex, then focussing on making out with my clitoris. I tremble and moan.

Fuck
!

This feels good! I’m not going to last long, not long at all! His hands grip my thighs and my buttocks, his eyes are closed and he looks so content, relishing my taste and my feel. The satisfaction in his expression spurs me onwards, higher and higher. I want to move, but I don’t want to ride his face, so I force myself to hold still, which only increases my tension and build up. I build exponentially fast, the whole scene is far too erotic for me to even attempt to prolong myself. I don’t attempt to, I just enjoy!