She: Part 2 (27 page)

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Authors: Annabel Fanning

Tags: #She

BOOK: She: Part 2
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“You’d better be laughing
with
me,” I giggle.

He nods, lowering his hands to my waist, his eyes gratified as he takes all of me in.

“What are you thinking?” I ask him.

“I don’t know
what
to think. That’s the funniest and the sexiest thing that I’ve ever seen!”

That’s a perfect combination
. “Glad to hear it,” I smile.

“You’re amazing,” he tells me. “I’ve never met anyone with so little inhibition. It’s inspiring. And I’ve never been fond of bows, but baby, you just changed my mind.”

“Seeing as you’re not going to the Moulin Rouge…”

He laughs again. “Very thoughtful.”

“Speaking of…” I hand him his presents and cards, and say, “Happy Birthday, Logan.”

He takes them, his eyes widening again, and he exclaims, “I forgot about these! After seeing the terrace last night I wasn’t expecting anything today.” He looks from them to me, his face full of excitement. Letting them sit in the small space between his body and mine, Logan takes my face in his hands. His eyes soften and he gazes at me with more love than I’ve ever seen conveyed in one look before. “You’re amazing,” he tells me again. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to wake up next to you, Gemima.” He kisses the tip of my nose and then presses his lips against mine for one long, delicious moment. “
Presents
,” he then says, his excitement back.

I laugh and pick up the two cards, telling him, “This one is for public display on a table or bookshelf. And this one is for your eyes only.”

Grinning, he opens the
proper
one first, reading my words attentively, before looking up once more and saying, “I love you too, baby. So much.”

I beam back at him and nod to the second card, which he opens with haste.


Oh my god
,” he smiles, as he takes in the image that I’ve drawn. “That’s…that’s better than Buddy’s drawing!”

Giggling, I tell him, “It’s a depiction of our imminent activity. And now you know why I was so horny when I went to bed on Monday night…”

“Suddenly the sex dream makes more sense,” he agrees. “I’ll keep this in my locked office drawer,” he decides. “Something to make dull days pass faster.”

“This is for the office too,” I hand him the smallest of his three presents. “Meaning that you
have
to wear it, assuming you’re working today,” I say, only just realising that he might be having the day off.

He unwraps the grandiose birthday badge, and erupts into laughter. The sound of it stirs every part of my body and suddenly I’m eager to get the present-giving out of the way, so that we can move onto that imminent activity.


Are
you working today?” I ask.

“Yes, but I’m having a long lunch with my family, which may or may not turn into having the afternoon off.”

“It must be nice to be the boss,” I tease.

“I owe myself a considerable amount of leave-time which I’ve never once taken. Trust me, baby, as an ex-workaholic it’s a huge step to take time off at all, even for my birthday. But that’s the effect you’ve had on me. Less work, more play,” he grins, looking adorable and sexy in equal proportions. “It’s a healthier balance, I’m sure,” he concludes.

“At least you’ll get to wear it at work this morning,” I press.

“Are you trying to embarrass me?” he laughs, and I nod vehemently.

“OK, open this one next,” I say, picking up the long tube and handing it to him.

I shuffle backwards a bit, knowing that he’ll need space to roll out the photograph that’s within the tube. He looks intrigued as he does so, and only once the photo is fully revealed does he comprehend when and where it was taken.

“Wow!” he breathes.

Still feeling as nervous about this particular gift as I was when I decided to get it, I’m tentative as I ask, “Do you like it?”

He’s silent for a moment as he takes it in. “I
love
it!” he effuses. “You’re looking at me in this picture,” he notices exactly what I wanted him to.

I nod again. “That’s why I look so enamoured, and my eyes look glazed,” I notice. “I was in a bit of a Logan-Leary-stupor.”

“A what?” he chuckles.

I shrug. “It’s just something that happens to me from time to time. I get lost in contemplation of you, especially on that first day,” I indicate the photograph, “because I’d never felt the type of instant attraction that I had with you. At that exact moment I felt like I was seconds away from orgasming, just because of the intensity of the way you were looking at me.”

“Ah, Amber’s comment at dinner,” he remembers when my best friend embarrassed the shit out of me.

“Exactly,” I giggle.

“Baby…” he stares at the picture again, “this is so gorgeous, so considerate—”

“So vain?” I still worry.

“No,” he shakes his head. “It’s meaningful, Gemima. This is the beginning of us, right here in this photo. Every time I look at it, I’ll remember that moment, being in that courtyard, staring at you in complete admiration.”

Perfect.

“I’m going to hang it in my office, and then I’ll get
no
work done,” he grins. “Thank you, baby. Thank you so much,” he says, leaning forward to give me a quick kiss.

“You’re more than welcome,” I say, relieved that he likes it so much. “Last one…for now,” I hand him his final present.

He gets halfway through unwrapping it before I stop him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I request. He looks up at me expectantly, looking breathtakingly beautiful. I take a deep breath and begin, “Before you open this one, I just want to tell you that I know it’s kitschy, and I know it’s a cliche…” I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning forward, “but I love you, Logan…” I mutter against his lips, “more than I ever thought I was capable of loving anyone, and though we’ve only been together for, like, two days,” I joke, making him chuckle, “
everything
in me in certain about you. Completely certain. So this is silly and cutesy,” I indicate the semi-wrapped present, “but I also mean it,” I say. “
Unless
you hate it, in which case forget what I just said,” I grin.

“I won’t hate it,” he grins back, confidently. A few seconds later the red padlock falls into his lap.

“For a lover’s bridge,” I tell him. “There’s bound to be one left intact somewhere in Paris.”

He beams at me. “When can we go?”

“Whenever you want, baby,” I laugh.

“The sooner, the better,” he says, smiling down at the lock. Then looking up at me once more, he asks, “Did you know that wolves mate for life?”

Humour becomes me. “That name really
does
suit you.”

“Apparently so,” he laughs too.

“We probably shouldn’t go tonight, though,” I tell him. “I have one more present-thing coming later. A performance, of sorts. A comedic ones,” I add hastily, just in case he starts imagining some sort of lap dance routine. It’s high time for Logan to see my dance routine to The Best.

“We’ve got time now,” he tries his luck.

I shake my head, “I need a full day to psych myself up for this. And besides,” I push the presents and discarded wrapping paper to the side and pull the duvet away from Logan’s lap, uncovering him, “you’ve had your taste, now I want mine,” I grin mischievously.

I want to tease him more than might be kind given that it’s his birthday, but it’ll be worth it; I know it will be. I place my hands on the inside of his knees and run them north, towards his groin. When I repeat this action his hips lift, almost unconsciously, coaxing me to touch his rising penis, but I don’t. I keep winding him up in this fashion, while also leaning forward to kiss his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, my lips moving ever south. My hands and mouth meet at his glory trail, which I graze over repeatedly, using my nails to increase his anticipation. It’s working; he’s fully hard now, his head resting back against the wall, his mouth open and silently mewling. Still I don’t touch the one part of him that craves my touch the most.

Shuffling down the bed, I bring my head to his crotch and lick his inner-thigh, making him twitch involuntarily. Keeping the teasing going, I do it again, switching between his legs, each time get closer and closer to his penis.

He’s straining now, almost desperate for me to take him. Good, I think.
Very
good!

Ever so lightly I let the fingers of one hand brush over his base while I take ahold of his balls in my other hand and squeeze them gently. The airy groan that issues from him is the sexiest sound in the world.


Ah
,
baby
,” he tilts his hips forward again, unconsciously presenting himself to me.

I stop everything and watch him: his hands pushing against the mattress, his penis weeping for my attention, his belly rising and falling in time with his rapid breath, the veins tight in his neck, and the earth-shatteringly beautiful expression on his face, conveying the one thing that stands out the most: his unconditional trust in me. He’s not only naked beneath me, but he’s open. Open sexually, open emotionally, the type of open that’s only attained when there’s absolute, unwavering trust between two people. Seeing him like this not only increases my own arousal, but it makes me want to increase his even more. I want to push him to highs that he’s never been to before, and so, instead of taking his waiting penis into my mouth I start my whole windup process from the beginning once more.

It doesn’t take Logan long to realise what I’m doing. “Gemima,” he pants, “if you want that taste you’re going to have to have it now. I’m going to come soon.”

“Hold it,” I tell him, with a smile. “It’ll be worth it,” I repeat his own words from the other night.


Fuck
!” he yells, banging his head back against the wall as I touch his base and cup his balls once more.

Holy shit
! It is
so
satisfying to see him so wild, so undone! My own desire to taste him wins me over and I lean down and caress his end with the very tip of my tongue. I’ve never before heard the sound of satisfaction that issues from him, and I’m on cloud nine. His whole body tenses and I suddenly believe him: he’s close to coming.
Very
close. But rather than speeding things I up, I take a leaf out of Logan’s book and keep my movements slow and measured, taking his penis all the way into my mouth and revelling in every part of the experience. He feels amazing, he tastes amazing. I scoop my hands under his backside and dig my nails in, bringing him deeper into me, ignoring my gag reflex as best as I can.

“Ah! Baby!” he’s breathless. “Baby, yes!”

I suck him hard and he calls out, pushed to the edge. I return to his tip, swirling around it with my tongue and he’s all gone. His orgasm powers through him, making him shake and groan like I’ve never seen him do before. I swallow his sizeable load, and then suck him a few more times as the aftershocks roll through him.

Finally releasing him, I sit back on my heels and grin like the Cheshire cat. Every part of me is smug right now. So fucking smug! I’m completely thrilled by how everything has transpired, which serves to remind me that sometimes acting in the moment is
far
better than enacting rigid plans.

“Well, now that we’ve both been fed…” I say gleefully.

He laughs at my innuendo. “Baby,
ah
, that was incredible,” he sighs, relaxing against the headboard.

I clamber over him, his hands eagerly gripping my waist to pull me closer, before they travel up my body. We kiss each other ardently. Our tongues brush against one another, and though I want to make out with him — always — the combined taste of our saliva after both giving oral leaves something to be desired. It tastes disgusting, I note. All we need to do is brush our teeth…

“We should—” I begin.

“Yeah,” Logan agrees immediately, and a minute later we stand side by side brushing our teeth.

“I need to get rid of this,” Logan says afterwards, his hand gliding over his stubble.

“Can I do it?” I ask. “I promise I’ll be careful,” I add, taking a seat on the edge of the vanity, and pulling Logan between my open legs so that I can get closer to his face. However, this movement distracts him, and he looks down, surveying me hungrily. I grin at his reaction, reaching for his razor blade. “Eyes up, baby,” I tease him.

Logan goes through his usual lathering routine, and then with a dorky smile on my face, I begin shaving him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I tell him. Jerry never even let me try it.

I don’t have to be as careful as I first thought. Soon I find my rhythm, and am making long clean strokes over his face. All the while, Logan’s hands are running up and down my thighs, inside and out, his touch turning me on.

“I have a razor over your throat, Logan, now might not be a good time to distract me,” I giggle, after his hands settle over my sex.

“I trust you,” he smiles back alluringly, telling me what I happily already know. His hands continue to tease me down below, but his eyes never leave mine. There’s something very sexy about him knowing his way around, knowing all of my most sensitive spots without even having to look.

By the time I drop the razor into the sink, the job done, I am well and truly seduced. My heart is beating overtime and I can’t keep the image from his birthday card of us pressed against the window out of my mind, and I do believe I told him that it was an imminent activity…

Logan grins at me, as if knowing exactly what I’m thinking about, which I suspect he does. I run my hands over his newly smooth face before trailing them down his taut, naked body and grasping his backside firmly, bringing him even closer to me. I squeeze his cheeks, biting my bottom lip.

“Please don’t tell me that my ass needs shaving too,” he chuckles, making me laugh out loud.

“That’s not what I’m thinking about,” I say, squeezing it again.

“You’re thinking about your birthday card,” he says surely, and slowly I nod. “Well, then,” he picks me up effortlessly and before I can protest he says, “Not one word about heavy lifting, baby.”

I hastily wrap my arms around his neck, smiling against his mouth, before I kiss him. It’s a kiss that only lasts a second, however, for when he pushes me against the stone-cold window just outside the bathroom, I squeal and squirm against the glass.

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