Marked (Playing Games Book 1)
Page 20
“Logan,” she gasped as she attempted to tug the hem of her shirt down her bare legs.
“Hey, Tash. Wanna let me inside?”
There was no fucking way we were having this conversation in the hallway, especially with her looking like she did. She was totally fuckable right now. Her face was scrubbed free of makeup, her hair was dangling in wet strands down her face and she was wearing a threadbare grey t-shirt I’d recognise anywhere. I was ninety-nine percent sure it was one of mine. One that I hadn’t seen for a while, come to think of it.
Biting her bottom lip, Tash stepped back trying to hide her bare legs. I slipped inside. Not surprising, her apartment looked like her wardrobe had exploded again. With clothes and shoes spread everywhere, I had to watch where I stepped.
The door clicked behind me and I turned to face Tash.
“Why are you here, Logan?” she asked as she continued trying to hide from me, this time stepping behind the couch.
“Nice shirt.”
“A friend lent it to me,” she tossed back casually.
“A good friend?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“I would.”
“Did you want it back?”
Something wasn’t right. She looked confused, nervous, almost scared. I didn’t like it, not one bit. Any semblance of control, restraint or patience snapped. Crossing the room in three long strides, I reached out and snagged her wrist, yanking her against me. Her soft curves fit against my hardness. And my hardness was pretty much impossible to hide.
“No. I don’t want it back.”
“Then what do you want.”
“I think you know.”
“I don’t.”
“Bullshit.” I called her out. She knew exactly what I wanted, she was just too afraid to say it. Good thing I wasn’t. “You know what I want.”
“Look, if you came here looking to get laid, you knocked on the wrong door on the wrong night.”
Ouch! If I didn’t know better, I might fall for her crap. Thank fuck I did. “You really think I came here just to fuck you?”
“Well you haven’t given me any idea you’d want anything more.”
Fuck this. And fuck her. Not able to listen to her babble shit for another second, I slammed my lips down over hers as my fingers dug into her hips, holding her against me. She could’ve pushed me off and I would’ve let go without a fight. I might have been acting like an arsehole, but I’d never force her to do anything she didn’t want to. Except maybe to own up to what it was she really wanted. When her tongue started duelling for domination with mine, I knew she was mine. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
Reaching down, I grabbed handfuls of her arse and hoisted her up against me.
When her legs wrapped around me and her hands tugged roughly on my hair, a growl ripped from my throat and she had me almost coming in my pants like a teenager.
Breaking the kiss, I attacked her neck as she tipped it backwards, giving me access. “I’m going to fuck you now, Tash.”
“Yes, Logan. God yes!” she moaned as she ground her heat against me.
I could feel the dampness soaking through her thin cotton panties. “It’s going to be quick, but I promise I’ll make it up to you in round two.”
“Round two?”
“Or three.” Storming through her apartment towards her bedroom, I struggled to not bash her head into the wall when she sucked on that spot just behind my ear that made me stupid.
Throwing her on the bed with a bounce, I followed her down, grinding against her. Desperate didn’t begin to describe how badly I craved her. Taking hold of the collar of my shirt she was wearing, I ripped it straight down the middle.
“Hey! That shirt was my favourite,” she managed to whine barely a second before I wrapped my lips around her nipple, tweaking the other. Arching her back, Tash let out a deep, guttural groan.
Switching boobs, I looked up at her hooded, lust-filled eyes. “I’ll get you another one,” I promised before clamping down. I began peppering her chest with tiny nips then soothing it with my tongue
“Logan…I need…need…” Tash mewled as she wriggled beneath me.
“What do you need? Tell me and it’s yours.”
“More. You.”
Walking my fingers down her rib cage, I kept my gaze locked with hers. Watching her suck in a deep breath, hearing the hiss as my digits danced with the elastic of her underwear before diving under was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Even before I sank my fingers inside her, I could smell the scent of her arousal. Licking my lips, I was dying for a taste.
“Is this what you want?” I demanded as I thrust two fingers deep inside her greedy pussy.
“Ah!” she screamed as she clawed at the sheets.
Pulling them out as quickly as they’d invaded, I sucked her juice from my fingers. She was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted. I was addicted. There was no cure for this. She was more potent than crack and more addictive than cocaine.
“Logan…”
Looking down at her, I’d never seen anything sexier in my life. If I could’ve snapped a picture I would’ve. Her cheeks were flushed, red marks marred her heavy tits and her panties were see-through with her arousal.
Needing to get inside her as soon as I could, I yanked her panties off before dragging her to the edge of the bed.
“W-w-what are you doing?”
“Eating dessert,” I offered before diving headfirst into the most exquisite meal I’d ever had.
Pinning her down, I held her still as she fought to move while I feasted. Woman was too delicious for her own good. It was going to be a problem I could tell, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. With my woman moaning my name, I’d never felt so invincible.
Reaching down, I popped the button on my pants and jerked down the zipper needing the extra room. My cock was aching and weeping and desperate to be inside Tash. First, though, she was coming. And then she was coming again.
As I shoved two fingers deep inside her, I nipped her clit and she came with a wail. Her back arched, her cries bounced off the walls and she coated me. Lapping her up, I kept my assault up until I felt her hands in my hair, pulling me off her. If she hadn’t, I might have stayed there all day.
Wiping my chin with the back of my hand, I didn’t even bother trying to disguise the smug, satisfied smirk from my face. If I thought I was in charge, I was soon corrected. Clutching my shirt in her fists, Tash tugged, sending buttons flying across the room. Leaning forward, she trailed her tongue across my chest and circled my nipple. I’d never known having my nipples licked and nipped could make my dick throb.
Taking hold of her wrists, I tossed her back on the bed, a frown marring her beautiful face. Not giving her a chance to complain, I toed off my shoes and pushed my pants off. Standing there naked before her, I stroked my cock, ignoring the bead of pre-cum at the head. When she reached for me, I stepped back. If she got her hands on me, or god forbid her mouth, this would be over before we got started.
“Logan.” Her voice was deep and gravelly and demanding. “Fuck me. Now!”
I wasn’t going to argue.
Sliding into her was like coming home. But this needed to be about more than me. I needed to see her. I needed her to see me. Flipping us over straddling me, Tasha started riding my cock like a cowgirl. With her boobs bouncing in my face and the sight of her swallowing my dick on top of the whimpers she was making, I was ready to blow my fucking head off.
“Tash…I’m gonna…I need you to…”
With one hand holding her hip, my other slipped between her legs to where we were joined. All it took was one well-placed flick and Tash screamed my name and praised every deity she knew as she clamped down on me and milked me dry.
Spent and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, I dropped my head back as I panted. Trying to regain control of my breathing, I snuggled Tash against my side, tilted her head back and kissed her.
When we pulled apart, both still gaspin
g for breath, I lifted her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “We need to talk,” I said. It wasn’t until it’d come out that I realised how much of a damn woman I sounded like.
“Mmm.”
“I’m serious, Tash.”
“Mmmm.”
“You’re not up for it right now, are you?”
She snuggled closer against me, her breasts crushed against my side, and legs tangled with mine; conceding she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. I kissed her temple, earning me another murmur. “Fine. Sleep now, sweetheart. We’ll talk when you wake up.”
“Mmmkay.” Tash was asleep and snoring softly before I could add anything more. After pulling the covers up over us, I let myself drift off.
Waking up, I glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was almost one in the morning. Tash was still completely out of it. Needing to pee and craving a drink of water, I untangled myself from her and slipped from the bed. Tugging on a pair of boxers, I headed for the bathroom and took care of business before making my way out to the kitchen, suddenly hopeful I’d find something to eat as well. I was starving. I hadn’t intended to skip dinner, but good sex will have you forgetting everything. And fuck me was the sex good. Tash was everything I wanted and more. All I had to do was to convince her to give us a chance. But that was future Logan’s problem. Right now, I needed sustenance and maybe round two. My dick twitched at the thought. It wasn’t exactly easy keeping him controlled when he knew there was a naked woman lying in the other room. Especially one as incredible as Tasha.
Filling a glass with water, I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and bit into it. In the darkness of the apartment, I noticed the light on Tasha’s laptop was still on. Not wanting her computer to burn out, I went over to turn it off. As soon as I touched it, the screen lit up and I dropped the apple I’d been holding.
Staring back at me was the admin page of a blog. A blog page I knew all too well. A blog that had done nothing but made my life a living hell for months.
With my head flicking back and forth between the screen and bedroom door where I could still hear Tash snoring over the pounding of my own heart, everything broke.
Tasha was T.
T was Tasha.
And I, I was a fucking idiot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TASHA
When I woke up it was still dark outside. Checking the clock, I realised it was a little before five. With my body aching in all the right places, I rolled over expecting to smash straight into Logan’s warm, hard chest. It was my favourite place in the world to fall asleep these days, wrapped in his arms, so I was a little surprised to see I wasn’t still wrapped around him like a vine.
Sitting up, I hugged the sheet to my chest and looked around. When I tried to run my fingers through my hair I was met with a matted mess. After forcing it into submission, I managed to tie it back in a sloppy ponytail. If Logan and I were going to do this, if we were going to try to be something real then he was going to have to get used to me looking my most fabulous first thing in the morning.
Speaking of Logan, the sheets beside me were cold and his phone wasn’t on the nightstand. Weird. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Wrapping the sheet around me in a dramatic toga, I shuffled to the bathroom only to find the door wide open and the bathroom empty. Confused, I headed towards the kitchen. Maybe he was already up and making coffee.
“Mmm coffee,” I murmured, already salivating at the thought.
Stepping into the kitchen, disappointment flooded me. Not only was the coffee machine not gurgling, but there was no sign of Logan. Squashing down my need for caffeine, I hurried back to my bedroom to grab my phone.
Nothing.
Not one missed call. Not one unread message.
All the clothes I’d peeled off him last night, gone. Not even a stray sock was left.
As I made my way back to the kitchen to start the machine, my disappointment was fading, fast being replaced with pure rage. I wanted to think the best of him, I wanted to believe the whispered words he’d said and the promises he’d made but this wasn’t a good start. It might’ve been hypocritical of me, especially given my past, but vanishing without a trace the morning after a night of mind-blowing sex was not a smart decision.
While I waited for my coffee, I stomped back into the bathroom and climbed in the shower. There wasn’t much chance I’d be getting back to sleep anytime soon so I might as well get started on my day. Coating my loofah with a big glob of body wash, I lathered up. The moment I looked down at my boobs, I was glad I lived alone. The shriek that tore from the back of my throat would’ve given them a heart attack. Hell, it nearly gave me one. My boobs were covered in tiny red marks. Bites. The shithead had left hickeys all over me. On closer inspection it wasn’t just on my boobs either. Tearing open the shower curtain I stared in the mirror.
“Holy shit!” I touched my neck and collarbone, only to find even more bruises.
I was covered, from neck to knee with hickeys. They marked the inside of my thighs, my stomach and even in the crook of my elbow – that one I don’t even remember him giving me.
I could barely believe it. I was going to string him up from the balls when I caught up with him. It was one thing to fuck me seven ways to Sunday, it was one thing to leave me walking bow-legged, but to mark me with hickeys, hell no. Especially where I couldn’t cover them easily.
Finishing up, I dried off, wrapped the towel around me and went back for my coffee. If I was here alone, I wasn’t going to rush to get dressed. Checking my phone again like an obsessed idiot, I went to sit at the table; might as well get into it.
It happened in slow motion.
I watched as my fingers let go of the coffee mug.
I watched as it twisted and turned and fell to the ground.
I watched as it shattered at my feet, shards of ceramic mug going in every direction.
I watched as the scalding-hot liquid burnt my toes and puddled on the floor.
Sitting there beside my computer was a glass of water I don’t remember pouring and a half-eaten apple. I knew the apple wasn’t mine. Bumping the mouse, my screen came to life in the same moment my heart sank, and the bile rose in my throat.
With the cursor blinking back at me, I instantly recognised my blog home page. I’d been in the middle of getting some notes down when he’d come barging through the door upending my world and fucking me into a coma. From the moment I’d opened the door, seeing him there like all my best fantasies come to life, my brain had turned to mush and nothing else mattered. Nothing but him. And that stupidity may have cost me everything.
Staring at my notes, I realised I hadn’t written anything too incriminating…yet, but I knew he’d read previous posts. Ones that didn’t exactly paint him as the hero people wanted him to be. Ones that called him out on his shitty performances. And while I stood by what I wrote, I had to own it, the way I’d gone about it may not have been the best. The problem was, I didn’t expect this. Any of it. I didn’t expect to ever meet Logan face to face. I didn’t expect we’d end up in bed together. And I never expected to fall for the guy.
“Fuck!”
Without thinking, I tried to call him.
Straight to voicemail.
It was nearing five thirty, still too early to show up on his doorstep and hope he let me explain. “Fuck it!”
Not having a clue what to do, I walked around in circles in my apartment wearing nothing but a towel and a scowl. Slumping into the uncomfortable chair, I booted up my writing program and let my fingers bleed. I didn’t stop to check what I was writing; I didn’t care about spelling mistakes or correcting grammar, I just brain-dumped onto the page. This was Natasha North. Completely uncensored.
Hitting send on the email and publish on the blog post, I stood up, pushed my chair in and marched into my bedroom. This was not how this ended. There was no way I was letting this be the end. I demanded more. Hell, I deserved more.
Forty-five minutes later and my bedro
om looked like a tornado had ripped through it. Almost every single piece of clothing I owned was out of the wardrobe and either on the floor or the bed. Shoes were scattered about in every direction. Underwear hung over the edge of the drawers and my dressing table was buried under the makeup and hair products. On the upside, I looked fucking fabulous. I had on my favourite skinny jeans. The ones that hugged my hips and made my arse look perky. My knee-high black boots with the stiletto heel and pointed toe gave me the extra height I wanted but perhaps more importantly, the confidence I needed. I’d gone back and forth on my top choices. Debating whether I should wear a turtleneck and hide the evidence Logan had left there or say, ‘fuck it’ and wear the thin black woollen sweater with the plunging V neck. It didn’t show off all my boobs, but it definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Stuffing my phone in my back pocket, I grabbed my car keys and pushed my glasses over my eyes as I stepped onto the street.
***
By the time I’d made it to Logan’s front door, all the bravado I’d had when I’d left home had vanished. Not even the two coffees and one energy drink I’d chugged, gave me the pep I needed. Ignoring the vibration of my phone in my pocket, I knocked with all the confidence I could fake.
“Should’ve bought coffee,” I scolded myself as I waited for someone to answer.
“Yeah, you should’ve,” a deep, sleepy voice answered my question as the door swung open and I came face to chest with a very built and tanned Bryce.
If I hadn’t been completely and utterly fucked-up over his roommate, then maybe I could appreciate the man standing in front of me. As it was, all I could do was offer him a small shrug.
“Sorry. Next time?” I offered.
“Is there going to be a ‘next time’?”
“You know.”
“Yeah.”
Gulping, I asked nervously, “Does he hate me?”
Bryce gestured for me to come inside. I guess that was a good sign. At least I hoped it was. “I don’t know what happened and I don’t think I want to.”