by Drew Elyse
“Have you slept at all, angel?” he asked in a strained voice.
I didn’t answer him. We both knew I had not, and while Logan may not have known the whole reason, he knew enough.
He wrapped me in his embrace, pulling me down into his warmth. Rolling above me, he braced his arms on either side of my head, bringing his face close to mine. His sleep-warm body pressed against mine, revealing the hardness I had come to expect from him in the morning. Suddenly, I was restless for a whole new reason.
“You need to relax,” he insisted. “There is no reason to be so worked up about this, I promise.” One hand shifted so that his fingers could graze my neck, my already building desire caused me to lift into his touch.
Logan read my body immediately, the recognition of my desire showing in those brilliant eyes. “I think what you need,” he whispered in the deep, sexy tone that drove me mad with lust, “is a distraction.”
There was nothing I could do to keep my body from pressing against his at the insinuation. I knew just how incredible Logan was at distractions.
His lips captured mine, soft at first, coaxing. But when I opened my mouth to him, the fervent heat I needed came to the surface. It was how things were for the two of us. Logan always tried to be sweet and gentle, but his desire overtook him. The truth was I lived for the moments when he lost control that way, when he showed me just how great his need was.
It took him no time at all to reach for the hem of the t-shirt I’d taken from his drawer to sleep in the night before, and as soon as he had it in his grasp, it was leaving me. With just my thin panties and his boxers separating us, there was no room for any thoughts that didn’t involve the delicious things Logan could do to my body.
His lips moved down my neck, my collarbone, my chest, until he pulled away from my skin ever so slightly with the most salacious look in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and ran his tongue over my hardened nipple. It was too much. My head shot back against the pillows, and I released an uninhibited moan.
Logan’s tongue, teeth, and lips worked at each nipple, until I was certain I would orgasm from that contact alone. My breathing was choppy and punctuated by tiny gasps. My back was arched as high as it could go, straining to feel every bit of him.
With a thrust of his hips against me, Logan groaned, “You are so incredibly sexy. I need you, Charlotte. I can’t hold back.”
I gasped out, as clearly as I could, “Don’t hold back.”
And he didn’t.
With a rumbling growl and a look in his eyes that was simply feral, he reached down to grip the sides of my panties. In my haze, it was all I could do to lift my hips so he could shimmy them off. He was only gone from me for a second to fling them away. His touch immediately returned to the skin he had just uncovered.
His fingers moved between my legs, swirling coaxingly, causing my hips to churn and press against him. Without warning, he was on his feet, leaving my heated body exposed to the cold air. My hips rose toward him, seeking the pleasure he’d been giving me a mere second ago. But Logan did not leave me wanting for long. He shoved his cotton boxers down his legs almost violently and was overtaking me again.
“Hush, baby. I’m right here,” he rumbled. Even through the lust in his voice, I could tell he was enjoying my wanton behavior. He had been coaxing it out of me for months, watching me let go was a prize he finally got to enjoy. He had gotten me to the point where I could not have held back if I had wanted to.
The feeling of him at my opening had any conscious thought splintering into nothing. There was only the blissful connection of our bodies. He entered me in one smooth motion, hesitating when he was deep inside to meet my eyes. Only when he had confirmation that I was as desperate as he was did he let loose.
Each pounding thrust sent us climbing higher. Wave after wave of pleasure accompanied his furious pace. With his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly against him, there was nothing I could do but drown in him as my first orgasm hit. Even as I screamed out his name and pulsated around him, he never let up his pace.
There was no coming down from the high before he was tipping me over the edge once more. His pace only faltered when I exploded the second time, every muscle contracting and my back arching off the bed. Squeezing me even tighter to him, Logan thrust as deep as our bodies would allow and emptied himself inside of me.
Neither of us moved from that position for long minutes as our bodies struggled to come back down. Only then did Logan position us so that I was lying on my side with him behind me. For the first time since he’d fallen asleep the night before, my muscles felt relaxed. There was no tension left in me when Logan began running his fingers through my hair gently.
“You still have time. Sleep now, baby,” he whispered.
“I don’t know if I can fall asleep,” I admitted.
And then, Logan did something I never expected. Shifting us around so that I was lying with my head on his chest, he continued to play with my hair as he sang quietly to me. The Avett Brothers song took a minute to recognize, his voice sounding so much more like a lullaby than the original. My last thought as I finally succumbed to my exhaustion was not of the evening ahead of me, but of the poignant lyrics Logan sang to me. My head was full of doubt; I just hoped he never came to understand why.
Charlotte was a mess. I’d managed to distract her enough to allow her to get some sleep, but I knew she would still be anxious when she woke. When I realized she’d been up all night worrying herself sick, I was torn between concern and anger. Why didn’t she wake me? I knew she never woke me when she was jolted awake by nightmares. Hell, I even pretended to sleep when she’d bolt upright in bed beside me. She never cried out or seemed to panic when she woke; she’d just do so suddenly and then eventually settle back beside me. I had considered asking her about her dreams multiple times, but dismissed it. They would no doubt fall under the ever expanding umbrella of topics she did not want to talk about. But staying up all night, panicking about meeting my parents, and just letting me sleep soundly beside her? I had to draw the line there.
All of the secrets were getting to be too much. How she expected me to just constantly sit by, when I knew she was struggling, was just beyond me. I was in love with her, and yet I wasn’t even allowed to act like it. Every day seemed harder than the last. Always having to hold myself back with her was draining me dry. Being shut out at every turn hurt, and apparently, I had become a masochist since meeting Charlotte.
I let her sleep for a few hours, debating when to wake her. On the one hand, I knew she would want time to get ready without feeling rushed. On the other, I didn’t want to leave her more time to work herself up again. I settled on giving her two hours before we had to leave.
I spent those two hours alone.
As soon as I woke her and she saw the time, she’d disappeared into her room to get ready. I’d never known her to need two hours, but she did not emerge until I tapped on the door, asking if she was almost ready to head out. I’d wanted to knock on her door and check on her sooner, my mind roaring at me to do it, but I gave her time. It was what she was always trying to get, after all. So instead of making sure she was alright, I wore a path into the hardwood floor with my constant pacing. Keeping myself away from Charlotte went against every primal instinct I had.
All I wanted was to reassure her, to give her confidence. Sharing her with my family, even if that would likely not include my brother on this occasion, was important to me. I wanted her there, even if that made me selfish.
Once we got in the car for the drive over, however, all bets were off.
My parent’s house was right on Lake Washington, just a few miles from the University campus, meaning our drive was only about 15 minutes. Less than five minutes in, I was ready to call the whole thing off, drive home, and spend the rest of the afternoon distracting her instead. It was too late for that, though. Not only were my parents expecting us, but Alex and Eli were already on their way too. And t
here I was, driving through Seattle with Charlotte on the verge of a panic attack in the seat next to me.
“Talk to me, angel,” I pleaded with her. Silence was bad. A silent Charlotte meant that she was upset.
Her continued silence was too much. Fighting across traffic, I pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store. We weren’t far from my parent’s house, and I could not take Charlotte there in that state. There would be no disguising her anxiety, and the added attention would probably prove too much. I wanted her to feel confident, not like I was leading her into the lion’s den.
Undoing my seatbelt and turning to her, I was shattered by the desperate pleading coming from her eyes. I would do anything to wipe that expression away. If she wanted me to take her home, I would have done it. I would have turned the damn car around and never suggest going to visit my parents again. She rendered me that powerless.
“Tell me what you want me to do here, angel,” I begged.
Those doe eyes got far away, searching for the answers we both needed. I waited, hoping beyond hope that I could quell her fears. Charlotte was gone for a few moments before looking to me again.
“What if this goes terribly?” she whispered.
“Nothing changes,” I answered emphatically, fighting my own frustration. “I’m not looking for my parent’s approval here. I just want you all to meet because you’re important to me, and I want you to be in my life completely.”
I forced out the words that were so much less than what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her that I was so in love in with her that nothing could push me away. I wanted to say that meeting my family was important because I planned for her to be a part of it one day. I wanted to plead with her to let her walls down so that everything did not have to feel like a battle, but I couldn’t. Charlotte was still my frightened animal in a corner. If I gave her the opening, she would bolt.
“You promise?” The vulnerability in those two words was jarring. I took no small comfort in knowing that despite her distance, she feared losing me. It wasn’t the words I wanted to hear from her, but it was some reassurance, at least.
“I promise, angel.”
Even with our pit stop, we arrived before Alex and Eli. Not surprising, since the two of them seemed to barely be able to pull themselves off of one another since the engagement–unless Alex had to do something for the wedding. Charlotte had seemed to relax a bit at my reassurance, though I noted the way she faltered when we began passing some of the million-dollar homes in the neighborhood. I had not kept my family’s money a secret from her. She knew about my father’s success, but it seemed that seeing it was a bit different. She’d had a similar reaction the first time she’d come to my office and seen the building it was housed in.
My parent’s house was not what I would call extravagant. My father could certainly afford more now, but my mom always hated the idea of having a dozen extra rooms that sat empty all of the time. Instead, they chose to build a house that was only as big as they needed, opting for a great location on the lake over acres of space to build some monstrosity of a house.
The two-story, 4,000 square-foot house was built in the style of a Mediterranean villa. When Mom saw the villas in person during their honeymoon, she’d fallen in love. When it came time to build a house of their own, my father insisted on the stucco and quarry stone walls to make Mom’s dream a reality.
We’d hardly parked on the turn-about driveway when Mom came sweeping out of the front door with her usual exuberance. Katherine Westfield may have been a small woman, but she made up for her size with an over-abundance of personality.
As I walked around the car to open Charlotte’s door, I was glad Mom stayed by the front door. Char looked a little overwhelmed with the house still, without adding on Mom ambushing us.
Charlotte’s eyes swept over the front of the house, looking all around me standing in front of her.
“It’s really big,” she whispered to me.
“It’s not that big, baby,” I chuckled.
“It’s pretty big,” she insisted.
“Just relax, angel,” I replied, cupping her sweet face in my hand and laying a kiss on her forehead.
As we walked up to the door, my arm wrapped around Charlotte, I watched Mom’s smile grow. I wished I could make Char see how excited Mom was about meeting her. It wasn’t about passing judgment or anything like that; she was just excited to meet the girl I hadn’t shut up about for five months.
“My baby is here,” Mom chirped happily, trying already to embarrass me. I wasn’t sure she’d ever called me her baby since I’d actually been one. I laughed as I wrapped her in my arms.
“Try all you want, woman,” I said low enough so that Charlotte couldn’t hear. “I refuse to be embarrassed.”
“We’ll see,” she whispered back deviously.
She had no idea that she was barking up the wrong tree. With as nervous as Char was, Mom embarrassing me would be welcome. I’d take anything Mom could dish out in order to lighten Char’s mood and make her feel more comfortable.
I released her and stepped back to where Charlotte lingered in the entry, still too tense for my liking. “Mom,” I began, “this is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is my mom, Katherine.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Katherine,” Charlotte lilting voice came with just the slightest tremor to it as she offered her hand. A handshake didn’t suffice apparently, as Mom swept Charlotte from my side and into a warm hug.
An ache reverberated in my chest at the sight. I knew how badly Charlotte missed her own mother, even if she never talked about it. There was no way to replace her mother, but I knew my mom would embrace her into our family without hesitation if Charlotte would give us the chance.
“Call me Katie, dear,” Mom instructed, and proceeded to lead us into the house.
Their house had one of those grand stair cases in the entryway with a balcony on the second floor overlooking the foyer. Oh, and there was a chandelier above my head. It wasn’t one of those gaudy all-crystal ones, at least. This one looked like an antique, the bronze body looked to be quite detailed, but I couldn’t make out the design through the lights. But, still, it was a chandelier. I was pretty sure the nicest lighting we had ever owned came from Walmart.
Logan might not think the house was that big, but compared to the apartments I had grown up in, it felt massive. I was feeling a bit out of my league.
After removing my coat, Logan pointed to the dark wood banister that had caught my eye.
“My first job as a teenager was as a busboy at this crappy diner because I broke off part of the railing on those stairs,” he told me.
Taking in the sturdy-looking wood, I asked, “How could you break that?”
“He tried to snowboard down the stairs,” Katherine offered.
“You what?!” I half-shouted, turning my shocked face to him.
His warm laugh moved through me, calming me in a way nothing else could. Then he was leaning in, stealing my lips for a kiss. It was not a simple peck, either. His arms pulled me in, his tongue coming out to taste me.
I pulled away, mortified that his mother was standing right there. God only knows what she was thinking after watching me just make out with her son like that. Not that I had reciprocated, but I’m sure she would not see it that way.
Logan looked peeved at me for stopping him. I tried to tell him with my eyes why I had, glancing meaningfully in his mom’s direction.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Katherine’s voice broke in. Looking at her in surprise, she just grinned. “Honey, I half expected the first girl my son brought home would be one he’d gotten pregnant by mistake,” she laughed when Logan shot her a look. “You’re better than I dreamed. Feel free to kiss him; it helps me accept that this is all real.”
Shock and embarrassment coursed through me. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.
Logan cupped both flaming cheeks. “God, you’re cute when you blush,” he said before trying to kiss me again. Whe
n I tried to pull way a second time, he held me fast until I ceded and kissed him back. I still wouldn’t let his tongue between my lips when he tried, but he didn’t push me.
“So, snowboarding?” I asked a little awkwardly when he pulled back.
He nodded. I waited for an explanation, but none came.
“Why were you snowboarding in the house?”
He shrugged. “My brother dared me to.”
“So you did it?”
“I was impressionable.”
“He was 16,” Katherine chimed in again.
This time I laughed. “Are you sure impressionable is the word you’re looking for?”
“Impressionable. Stupid. Whatever,” he dismissed. “I’m just saying it wasn’t entirely my fault.”
We followed Katherine through the hall into a large living room, my eyes immediately landing on the wall of French doors leading out to the lake. Even with the overcast skies, the view was a sight to behold. The room itself was accented with the same dark wood as the stairwell and plush suede couches. A fireplace served as the focal point of the room, the stone mantle giving it a somewhat rustic look. The house was beautiful for sure, but it also managed to feel like a home. It felt welcoming, which helped calm me a bit.
At least, until I heard a strong male voice call into the room, “Is someone here, hun?”
A moment later, Logan’s father was entered. I nearly swallowed my tongue. I had never seen a father and son who favored one another the way the Westfield men did. Logan was the spitting image of his dad. The only differences were their ages and their eyes. His father’s eyes were a dark brown instead of the brilliant blue I was used to.
When his father saw us, a smile spread across his face so like Logan’s it made me shiver. “This must be Charlotte,” he said brightly.
Logan opened his mouth, probably intending to do introductions, but I stepped forward and extended my hand.