by Lacey Alpha
“And?” I demand, digging for an apology.
“And...I'm sorry for saying you took advantage of me,” she mumbles.
I eye her for several seconds then sigh, pressing my foot to the accelerator.
We remain silent for such a long time that it causes an ache in my ears. I don't feel particularly victorious, despite her admitting she enjoyed herself. She clearly regrets last night, and that just doesn't sit right with me.
We drive for over two hours without a word and I eventually have to pull into a service stop to fill up the petrol tank. As I wrench up the handbrake, Darcy's stomach grumbles.
Frowning, I step out of the car and snatch a petrol pump from the rack. Sticking it in the car, I fill it, the hum of the machine vibrating my eardrums.
For fuck's sake, this is unbearable. Maybe I should have controlled myself last night. But I had zero willpower with her. I still don't.
I head to the checkout to pay, grabbing a handful of sandwiches and crisps before returning to the car and dumping them in Darcy's lap.
“I didn't know what you liked, so I got everything,” I mutter, starting the car and pulling away.
I feel Darcy's eyes on me. “Thanks,” she mumbles, tearing open a sandwich box.
I glance over to see which one she chose and spy egg and cress.
“Give me the meat feast.” I hold out my hand and she undoes the box for me.
“Here.” She takes out a sandwich and places it in my hand. There's something weirdly sweet about the gesture, despite the current animosity between us.
“Are you going to talk to me ever again?” I say through a mouthful of bread and meat.
“I guess I have to.”
“Come on, Darcy. It's just sex. It doesn't have to mean anything. You don't have to beat yourself up over it.”
“It's not just sex. It's sex with you.”
As usual, she cuts me down. “Why did you fuck me then?” I demand, finishing my sandwich in two more bites. What is this girl's deal?
“I don't know. You're hot. But that doesn't mean I like you.”
I think about that, then shoot her a grin. “So you used me?”
Her eyes go wide. “No!”
“Yes you did. You used me just like the men you supposedly hate that pretend to like a hot woman just to have sex with them.”
“It's not the same!” she screeches, ultra-fucking-sonic.
“It's exactly the same,” I remark, leaning back in my seat, satisfaction spreading through me. “It's either that or you actually like me. Which one is more painful for you to admit?”
“Argh!” she huffs, turning away from me as best she can in the small space.
I finish my sandwich and snatch the other one from her lap.
“So? Which is it?” I press through another mouthful.
She goes quiet for a beat then says, “The first one.”
“Oh good, so we can keep fucking then? Seeing as it means nothing to you.” My cock grows at the thought, a triumphant smile tugging at my lips.
“Stop it,” she snips.
“I think we get along better when we're fucking,” I say thoughtfully.
“Can you just stop talking? Like right now.”
I laugh, stealing a glance at her moody expression. “There's one particular way you can shut me up.” I rub my semi through my jeans and she grimaces at me.
“You're vile,” she snaps.
“Chill out, Darcy. You take everything so seriously.”
“You know what? Pull the car over. I want to get out.”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Now!” she demands, pointing to a lay-by up ahead.
“Oh for fuck's sake. Are you serious? We literally just stopped.”
“Yes I'm serious!”
I give in to her fuming expression, pulling off of the autoroute for what feels like the hundredth time today. At this rate, we're not going to make it to Cannes by tonight.
Darcy flies out of the car and I follow, trying to think of a way to placate her. Fun as it is winding her up, this is getting out of hand.
“I'm sorry okay. Can you just chill out for a second?” I urge, trying to soften my tone. She turns her back on me and I rest a hand on her shoulder, giving in to her anger. “Darcy, come on. It never has to happen again.”
She turns toward me, her brows drawn together. She looks conflicted, gazing over me like there's a war going on in her head.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath she says, “But what if I want it to?”
DARCY
Logan looks at me like I've just morphed into a unicorn.
His arms fall slack at his sides, his brow furrowing like he's trying to work out an impossible maths problem.
“What?” His mouth twists, clearly thinking he's misheard me.
I've been battling with this from the moment I woke up. I'm so torn, I feel like there's two halves of me waging war with each other in my head. And after fighting with Logan all morning and trying to convince myself I don't want anything to do with him, my primal side has finally won out. I want a repeat of last night. I want sex, no strings. I don't like Logan and that makes it so much easier not to worry about feelings and all the bullshit I've dealt with in the past. So why not?
Yeah, I'm being contrary. But do I really give a crap what he thinks?
I plant my hands on my hips, a little surprised at myself for blurting it at him. Especially after spending the last few hours convincing him I never want him to touch me again.
I know he's a complete pig. But...oh god what he made me feel last night.
The moment he confirmed we'd never have sex again, I snapped. Like the half of me that wants him wrestled the other half to the ground in a bloody battle.
“You heard me,” I say in low tone, trying to stop my voice from shaking. I haven't put myself on the line like this in years. And I've certainly never made this kind of arrangement with a guy before. But that's what I want this to be: a deal.
Logan lifts a hand, running it slowly through his hair, his features skewed in a she's-lost-the-plot expression. “But you said-”
“I know what I said,” I cut him off. “I admit it, I used you. And I want to again. And I want you to use me, too. No strings, no feelings, no nothing.”
He gapes at me, shaking his head. “Darcy, you're fucking with me right? You're gonna get me to agree to this then laugh in my face.”
I roll my eyes, brushing past him, leaning against the car.
He turns to me. “This is going against everything you've ever said to me.”
“I know,” I say through my teeth. “But I don't care. Maybe you're right, maybe it is possible to do this without anyone getting hurt.”
He steps closer to me and I glance up into his deep-set eyes. He looks doubtful then dips his head like he's going to kiss me. I press my hand to his chest in alarm, my heart doing backflips. “Let's keep this strictly to the bedroom. Then things won't get...I dunno, blurry.”
He stands straighter, clearing his throat. “Fine by me.”
“So...you're onboard?” I ask, half hopeful, half embarrassed beyond belief.
“You're asking me to fuck you on a regular basis with no strings attached, what do you think?” He strides around to the driver's seat and climbs in.
A second later, I join him, my heart beating unsteadily.
“And this is only for France,” I blurt, wanting to keep this as controlled as possible. “As soon as we're back in England, this stops.”
He glances at me, accelerating back onto the highway. “Okay...any other rules you'd like to add?”
I think about it, gazing out the window so I don't have to face him. “No after sex cuddling, no talking about feelings, and definitely no romance.”
I sneak a glance at his expression.
“Easy.” He shrugs.
I frown, unsure how I feel about his response. Not that it's much of a surprise.
“Good,” I snip.
“
Can I add a rule?” he asks hopefully.
“Go for it.”
“You can be however you like with me outside the bedroom, but this shitty attitude you have towards me disappears when I'm fucking you. Understand?”
My heart races harder at his words. “Fine,” I agree after a beat.
“Perfect. Then you have a deal, sweetheart.” He reaches a hand across the space between us and I awkwardly shake it.
Oh my god....what the hell am I doing?
¸.•*´♥`*•.¸
“We're not going to make it to Cannes tonight, we'll get there in the morning,” Logan says as we arrive in a beautiful old French town. The sunlight is dying in the sky, framing the old crooked rooftops and the outline of a church steeple reaching toward the heavens.
Logan's driven all day without a word of complaint. I'm antsy to get out of the car, so he must be too. I want to stretch my legs, go for a run. This town looks ripe for exploration.
He pulls up outside a little inn and we step out of the car. With a jolt, I'm reminded that this car is stolen property. “Is there any chance the police will track the car?”
Logan shrugs, taking our bags out of the boot. “We'll trade if for another one soon, stay under the radar.”
“Another car...” I say vaguely, my tummy twisting. Am I criminal because I'm travelling with one?
He shakes his head at me, heading into the tiny old inn that's wedged between two renaissance period houses. Inside is a dimly lit restaurant that's completely void of people. The ceiling is sloped, held in place by zig-zagging wood beams.
Logan walks up to the bar and slams his hand down on a bell. The ringing cuts through the air, making me cringe. It seems wrong to break the silence of this space. It's absolute.
“Maybe no one's here?” I whisper.
“You don't have to whisper just because it's quiet.” Logan laughs at me and I scowl.
I strut away from him, heading past the bar toward the back of the room. “Hello?”
“Bonjour!” a female voice calls and a large woman appears in a vibrant orange t-shirt. “Je m'apelle Madam Voulant.”
I use my rusty French GCSE to respond, telling her we need a room for tonight. “Salut. Nous tenons une chambre pour la nuit.”
“You speak French?” Logan joins my side, the growl in his voice telling me he approves.
“A little,” I mutter.
“Of course,” the woman says. “English better?”
“Much,” Logan says.
“I'll get you a key. You're the first people to pass through here in a while.”
“Really? But it's such a beautiful town,” I say sadly, following her through a door to a narrow staircase. As we climb to the landing, she takes a key from her pocket, the floorboards creaking beneath our feet. Logan has to duck his head to avoid the ceiling beams as we climb, his tilted form making me laugh on more than one occasion.
He gives me a ridiculous grin, shoving me as we reach the top of the stairs.
My stomach turns over and I refuse to meet his eye again. That is, until Madam Voulant unlocks a door for us. I glance at him, knowing he's thinking exactly what I am and feeling incredibly nervous because of it.
“How long are you staying?” Madam Voulant asks.
“Just one night,” Logan answers, his hand pressing into my back.
“Oh, is that all?” she asks, looking disheartened.
“We'll make it count,” Logan growls, pushing me firmly into the room.
“Breakfast is from 7 'til 9,” she calls as Logan shuts the door, flashing her a smile.
I take in the room which is dressed in lemon coloured sheets, the wallpaper floral and bright. Logan eyes me hungrily and I suddenly lose my nerve. Glancing at the en-suite, I bolt through the door, slamming it behind me.
I go to turn the lock but there isn't one.
Damn.
Sighing, I shake my head at myself. What's the matter with me? I was the one who came up with this deal. But without the confidence of tequila, I don't know how I'll go through with it.
I slip into the shower, trying to clear my head, running my fingers through my hair and starting to relax. It's been such a long time since I had any kind of relationship with a man. The fact that this is just sex should make it easier, but I feel so much more pressure to perform because of that reason.
The curtain whips back and I scream in surprise, clapping my hands to my breasts.
“Logan!” I roar then my eyes fall down his naked torso, landing on his enormous erection.
He grins wolfishly at me, stepping into the shower.
“Woah-wait. What are you doing?” I grab the shower curtain, wrapping myself in it.
“I know you said to keep this strictly to the bedroom, but I think this counts, too, don't you?” He leans down, pressing his mouth to mine. I'm trapped, stuck in the corner, wrapped in the damn shower curtain.
His mouth moves slow on mine, pushing my lips apart. I shut my eyes, the feel of his tongue too good to ignore.
Gently, he peels back the shower curtain, sliding his arms around my body and drawing me into his arms. How can a guy this large be so soft with me? I arch my back, his muscles bunching around me, pressing me into his bare chest.
“You made this deal, Darcy...” He kisses me again, forcing me back against the wall. “Now honour it.”
I start to melt, heat burning between my thighs. Reaching into his hair, I tug, dragging him against me. He snatches my butt, lifting me and I give in entirely, lacing my legs around his waist. He presses against me, placing his hand on the wall beside my head.
“Now let's hear that sexy moan of yours again.” He rams inside me and I cry out from the full feeling, grabbing his neck for support.
I shut my eyes, lost to the sensation as he starts to move, rolling his hips, reaching deep inside me.
The shower cascades over us and droplets collect on Logan's skin, channelling down his body between his firm pecks, the six perfect ovals of his abs. I'm captivated by his torso, absorbing the sight of his muscles, feeling tiny in his arms.
Hot water runs between our mouths and I taste the heat of it on his tongue. I shut off my mind, not focusing on anything but Logan's body. He takes me carnally, snatching my soaking hair in his fist, tugging my neck back. Lowering his head, he bites my neck, his teeth sinking in until I gasp in pain.
I squeeze him tightly with my thighs in response, driving him on, making him slam into me harder.
He cups my breast in his hand, massaging and caressing me, sending pleasure darting through my body.
“Harder,” I encourage, wrapping myself around him. That's it, I'm gone. And there's no coming back.
He responds ferociously, grabbing my waist, tilting my hips up so he reaches further inside me. His hands squeeze me, holding me perfectly still as he invades my body with a carnal savagery.
“How's that?” he growls and I tip my head back, mewling, crying out his name. I can't manage anything else, completely at his mercy.
He laughs softly at my reaction, sinking his tongue into my mouth once more. I bite his lip, raking my fingernails down his back. I had no idea sex could feel this way. It's like slipping into another reality where only pleasure and pain exist, the two colliding in a surge of flames.
Somehow he takes me harder, causing me to bite down on my lip to bear it. I almost tell him to slow down, bordering on pain. But suddenly, I fall into ecstasy, gasping and gasping. I cling to him as he crushes me to his chest, climaxing himself with a long animal-like groan.
The water splatters over our bodies, the only sound the rush of droplets and our breathless panting.
My legs quiver as I unlock them from his waist, my thighs so tense I'm pretty certain I'll have pulled muscles tomorrow.
Logan gazes down at me, all cockiness absent from his expression for once. Silently, we wash ourselves and I slip out of the shower, leaving him to finish, snatching a towel and wrapping it around my body. I find myself glancing b
ack at the curtain as I slip out the door, my tummy somersaulting.
Dragging on some jogging bottoms and a vest, I sit on the edge of the bed, towel drying my hair, lost to my thoughts. I may not like Logan, but Christ, he's the first guy to ever make me feel like that. I still have goosebumps, my blood heated, my heart beating erratically.
Logan appears, butt naked, rubbing a towel through his hair. I avert my eyes, jumping to my feet and backing toward the door. “I think I'll go for a run.” I need to escape. Christ, I need to think.
It's like there's a fog of lust and power surrounding him, driving everything from my body but desire.
“Okay. Don't get lost.”
I try to give him a sarcastic reply but his rippling muscles and huge dick make me mumble something incoherent instead.
My cheeks blaze as I jog down the stairs. Why does he have to be so damn gorgeous?
I head out for my run, exploring the little cobble streets, absorbing the fresh country air. The rhythmic pounding of my feet is soothing and stretching out my sore muscles feels good. I find myself getting turned around amongst the roads, circling and circling. Soon, I have to admit I'm unsure of how to get back to the inn. Everything looks the same.
After passing the same stone fountain twice, I resign to asking for help and take out my phone. Knowing he's going to be a complete smug bastard over this, I call Logan.
“Hey sweetheart. Everything alright?”
“No actually...I'm lost.”
Predictably, he laughs. I huff loudly, quickening my pace as I turn left down another cobble street.
“I told you you'd get lost.”
“Yes thank you. I am very aware of that.”
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
I suddenly wish I hadn't bothered calling, exhaling heavily. “Nothing. Forget it.”
I go to hang up but he blurts, “I'll find you, wait where you are.” The line goes dead with him giving absolutely no explanation as to how he's going to do that.
Sighing, I drop down onto a set of steps, figuring I have nothing to lose by waiting for a while. If he doesn't show up, I'll knock on someone's door and try to piece a sentence together from my fractured French. What's the word for 'lost'..?