by Erika Masten
Angelica tightened her arms and legs around his neck and waist and began to move with him, needing him – harder, deeper, faster. He felt so amazing in her in combination with the butt plug. Their bodies moved at a frenzied pace that matched the intensity of the thudding beat of the music, and she found herself becoming lightheaded as she reached her breaking point once more. "Oh fuck yes Logan," she groaned as he pulled his mouth from hers and their eyes locked.
"I'm going to fill this sweet pussy of yours, princess," Logan warned her.
Yes! Yes! Oh God yes!!!
The thought of him coming within her was the final straw. Forcing herself to keep his gaze she stopped moving on him and her body tensed. Quickly she found her body undergoing a series of orgasms, bringing him to his point of no return. With a final thrust Logan groaned, loud and feral, as he drove himself so deeply inside of her that she screamed out as his cock exploded, filling her core. She found the tremors overtaking her once more, coming with him. Their mixture of fluids slowly seeped past his entrenched cock and down her inner thighs as they clung to each other, panting and taking comfort in each other’s bodies.
Reaching between her legs Logan removed the plug and thrust it into his jacket pocket. He then grasped her ass in his hands and hoisted her up and dislodged his shaft from her. She found herself holding back a whimper of protest, missing the loss of him filling her. She wished she’d had just a few moments to bask in the afterglow of what they’d done.
"Five hours."
Huh? Angelica frowned as she peered up at him, feeling the flush in her cheeks and relieved that the darkness of the club would cover it.
Logan gave her a smug grin as he stepped back from her. "It took me five hours to get you from no sex-o ever, to have you begging me. I think that's a personal record to be honest."
Anger flared up within Angelica as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. It was all a game and he'd won a grand slam victory over her. He used her and she couldn't have stopped her reaction to the realization if she wanted to. "You son of a bitch!" Her hand lashed out and the palm connected with his jaw, making a loud slapping sound. She moved so quickly Logan blinked with a shocked look on his face, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.
As soon as she slapped him regret overtook her. As much as he deserved the slap, she knew that that could be the one thing that sent him packing. Panic threatened to take over, but she pushed it back down. She couldn't let him see that she was vulnerable. If he was going to leave, he would regardless of what she did or said now, she knew this. She was determined to hold on to the last sliver of dignity she had. Once she had her skirt adjusted properly she squared her shoulders and met his eyes.
Logan's expression became unreadable as he held her gaze.
"So does this mean you've gotten what you came for and you’re leaving now?"
The muscles in his square jaw tightened as he kept her gaze and then he slowly shook his head, the smug smirk returning on his lips. "Nah, I think I'll stick around a bit longer."
Reaching over to her, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her eye and tucked it behind her ear. The simple gesture made her want to sigh, but she restrained herself. She hated him, but hated that she wanted him even more, despite his arrogance.
Without another word to Angelica, Logan bent down, snatched her panties from the floor, turned and walked away from her. She watched as he thrust her panties into his jacket pocket and casually strolled down the darkened corridor and out the back exit, not even pausing to look back to see if she was watching him.
Chapter 4
Logan was absentmindedly flipping through the television channels while periodically glancing down at his watch and noting the time as he waited for Angelica to arrive home. It was now nearly 4am and she still had not shown up. He hated to admit it, but he was getting slightly concerned. But who was he to be concerned or interested in her whereabouts? He barely knew her. She was the spoiled, self-indulgent daughter of Richard Lawson, who he'd spent the majority of his life hating and envying – that's what he knew of her. So why would he care?
"I don't," Logan grumbled softly as he pressed the power off button on the remote just as he heard a car tear up in the driveway, tires squealing. He quickly made his way across the living room and peered out the window and watched in both horror and amusement as Angelica swerved her car, missed the massive marble fountain and then proceeded to drive up onto the lawn and come to an abrupt halt in the middle of a rose bed, after running down a couple of ceramic garden gnomes.
"Fuck!" Rushing from his position at the window, Logan raced from the living room into the grand entranceway and out the front door, not bothering to close it behind him. By the time he'd made it to the car, she had already managed to open the door and stumble out. She took several steps and fell to the ground; instead of groaning her tumble sent her into a fit of giggles. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"H-h-hellooooo Looooogan."
Grabbing her arm, he yanked her roughly to her feet. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Or someone else? Do you have no sense of responsibility?" Pushing her aside, but still holding onto her arm to help support her, he closed the car door.
"Ouch! You're hurting me!" Angelica attempted to pull her arm from his grasp and stumbled. Had it not been for his hand on her arm she would have fallen a second time.
"Damn it Angel!" Logan growled though clenched teeth as he slipped an arm around her waist to further steady her.
Tilting her face up, her blue eyes peered into his. "I kn-know why you're h-h-here."
Taking in a deep breath, Logan slowly exhaled. "I'm here because you tracked me down and begged me to come." Raising an accusing brow at her he added, "Remember?"
Angelica shook her head, her hair fanning out around her head, and then glared up at him. "No. No, you're here to p-p-punish me because of Dad." Placing her palms against his chest, she attempted to push herself away from him, but the combination of alcohol and his overpowering strength made her attempt to break free of his hold impossible.
Logan opened his mouth to deny her accusation, but then snapped it shut. She was partially right, sure. But she was getting what she wanted. He didn't go to her, she had gone to him, dammit. "Don't worry, in a month I'll be gone and you'll be living like a princess like you always have."
"Let GO!" She once again attempted to squirm free, her breasts brushing up against his chest and igniting his arousal.
"No," Logan replied, pinning her up against the vehicle. "Not until we get this straightened out."
"Don't you get it!" she spat, tears forming at the corners of her blue eyes as they met his. "It's never gonna be the same!"
Logan huffed, but his resolve faltered at the sight of the unshed tears. "Sure it will. You'll have this huge house. Money. You can go out every night and party with your little trust fund girlfriends spending the old man's cash. You'll have everything your little heart desires."
"But they're gone... they're all gone!" she wailed as she stopped fighting him and fell into his arms, the dam breaking and the tears flowing as sobs rocked through her body. "And I'm alone."
Aw, damn it, here come the tears again! Pulling her close, Logan stroked her hair and the smell of her peach-scented shampoo drifted up to greet him. He was so wrapped up in his own need for revenge and punishment that the fact that she'd lost both her parents in the matter of a couple of years and had no immediate family had slipped his mind.
He didn’t know her Uncle Clayton extremely well, but well enough to know Clayton wouldn't be around much for his niece. He really hadn't considered how alone she may have been feeling through all this or cared to consider it for that matter.
"I'm alone, Logan," she murmured as she clung to him, her tears quickly saturating the front of his black t-shirt.
Damn, damn, damn. Comforting people was not Logan's area of expertise and was extremely uncomfortable for him. His adoptive mother, while she had been a good woman who he k
new had loved him as much as she would have her own flesh and blood, was never an emotional woman or physically affectionate. He took on those traits. After her death, people displaying deep emotions had become nearly unbearable to him.
"You know Angel –"
"Oh my Goddddd!" Angelica pulled away from him quickly, giving him a shove that was so unexpected and contained enough strength that he stumbled backward. Seconds later her body was overtaken by a series of convulsions as she became sick in front of him, unloading the contents of her stomach on the grass at his feet.
"Oh fuck me," Logan groaned as he stepped up behind her, fisted her long blonde hair and gently pulled it out of her face as she continued to be sick, gasping and sobbing between convulsions. As much as he fought it, his anger and resentment for her were crumbling.
"I'm s-s-sorry," she managed to sob between bouts of sickness.
"It's okay. Everything is going to be all right, Angel."
“N-no it w-won’t!” she groaned, crouching and lowering her head into her hands.
“Come on.” Grasping her forearm, he helped her to her feet. She seemed a little steadier as she took a few steps.
“I don’t even have a home for sure,” she said, sniffling. “And no money.”
“You’ll get the inheritance and it’ll be all okay.” Their walk across the yard was painfully slow, stopping one more time for her to finish unloading her stomach. He cringed.
“You’re an ass.”
He shrugged. After tonight he supposed that could be considered a fair statement.
“I only got a uncle who’s never around and –” she motioned to him with a look of disgust on her face “– and a you.”
“And a me,” he echoed, leading her inside the house.
She kicked off her obscenely high heels as she crossed the threshold. Without the heels she seemed much steadier, but he didn’t want to risk her falling and seriously hurting herself or breaking something so he kept his hand on her arm.
“Ohhhh, that’s a lot of stairs.” She looked up at the winding staircase and stumbled backward.
With a sigh of resignation, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Her staring at him the entire time made him uneasy, like she was considering whether she wanted to say something to him.
“What?” he asked, the uneasiness forcing him to ask.
“Huh?”
“What are you staring at me for?”
“Why’d you do that to me?”
“What are you talking about?” He knew what she meant, but at that moment he wasn’t feeling as good about the decision to fuck her and leave her as he had several hours earlier.
“It was mean.”
He reached the landing and headed straight for her room. The quicker he deposited her safely on her bed the quicker he could get away. He didn’t like how his conscience was beginning to nag at him.
He’d been attempting to keep his gaze from meeting hers, but her eyes seem to burn into him. He glanced down into her sad eyes and it felt like someone had his heart in their fist and slowly squeezing. Sure, he was known to be a hard person, but he wasn’t a complete asshole and perhaps his behavior was an ass move.
“I apologize,” he grunted out, pulling his eyes from hers. Entering her bedroom, he carried her over to her bed and slowly set her down, holding onto her to ensure she was steady on her feet.
Not wanting to spend another second with her, because being with her was bringing about guilt he didn’t want to deal with, he hurried to her doorway. Her eyes took on a faraway look and she seemed to lose clarity once more, which was a relief; he didn’t want to explain himself.
“Logan.” Her voice was low and strained.
Closing his eyes he took a deep breath in and slowly released it before turning, sure she wanted to continue the “why do you hate me” conversation. “What do you need, Angelica?”
“I can’t… Ugh! I can’t get the zipper.”
He bit down on his lower lip trying not to laugh as the image of a dog chasing its tail came to mind watching her trying to locate and unzip the back of her dress. Crossing the room to her dresser, he began opening drawers until he found one that contained t-shirts. Grabbing the one at the top of the pile he made his way to her and tossed the t-shirt onto the bed. Grabbing her by the shoulders he spun her around so her back was to him and quickly undid the zipper and let the dress fall to a pile at her feet.
“I can’t wear a t-shirt to bed.”
“You will tonight.” He attempted to keep his eyes from devouring her naked body, but it was near impossible. Her figure was a beautiful hourglass, her slender waist giving way to curvy hips and round bottom.
He attempted to force away the memories of how good it felt inside of her, but as his cock thickened and began to throb it was impossible not to recall. “Put your hands up.” He could hear the strain in his voice, but was thankful she was too drunk to notice it.
She did as told, reaching for the ceiling. Pulling the t-shirt over her head, he let out a sigh of relief once her body was covered. Reaching around her he pulled back the blankets and helped her into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
Virtually as soon as her head hit the pillow she closed her eyes and fell to sleep. He stood looking down at her for a moment, conflicting emotions coursing through him. His original plan of making her pampered ass pay for Richard’s sins seemed like the worst idea in the world to him at that moment and he didn’t feel good about himself for it. Richard was dead and with it his need to make Richard pay needed to die too.
Letting out a loud sigh, he turned and made his way to the bedroom door. He turned back and glanced at her once more; she’d already begun snoring softly. She looked so sweet and vulnerable; however, he knew looks can be deceiving. Flicking out the light he exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
****
Angelica awoke feeling worse than she'd felt for a long time. Her head was throbbing, her body ached and memories of what she'd done with Logan at the club and how he'd just left her once he was finished as if she were some whore he'd picked up came flashing back to her. She cringed. She'd drunk a lot. Too much. More than she'd drunk since her prom night when she'd vomited in the car of her prom date, Bobby Hansen, and then passed out in the hotel room after prom.
"How did I get home?" she murmured, as she ran a shaky hand through her mussed hair. Sitting up on her bed she noticed she had changed into an oversized plain white t-shirt, no undergarments, just the t-shirt. She frowned. "How did I get changed?"
"About time you woke up."
Angelica's head snapped up at the sound of Logan's voice and she groaned as the sudden motion sent a sharp pain racing across her forehead. She watched him silently as he entered into her bedroom with the same self-satisfied smirk on his lips that he had before leaving her at the club the night before.
Bastard.
"What do you want, Logan?" Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. She wasn’t near in the mood for him.
"Well, aren't we in a foul mood?" He gave the bottle of aspirin in his hand a shake and then nodded toward the glass of water in his other hand.
Her suspicion rose. Did something happen after he left the club? When she got home? Her head was hurting badly simply trying to remember the events preceding his departure and her decision to get herself nice and wasted. No, it couldn't have. He was messing with her – setting her up for some additional embarrassment. Either that or just wanted to take pleasure in her discomfort. Sadist asshole.
Squaring her shoulders, she held his gaze. Her body warmed at the sight of him and the intensity in his green eyes. Her body's reaction to him only fuelled the resentment within. "I'm just fine," she snapped back.
"Don't look just fine to me." Opening up the bottle he shook a couple of aspirin into his palm and passed them to her. With hesitation she accepted the pills and popped them into her mouth, chasing them with the water he also passed her.
"What do you
want, Logan?" she repeated.
Crossing his arms over his chest he shrugged and then grinned down at her. "Just thought you could use a hand. You certainly needed one last night."
Anger flared up within her. "You're here to gloat? That it?"
"I'm here to help."
"Like you helped last night by fucking me and then taking off, like I was some cheap bar fuck!"
Logan's smile faded and his features seemed to darken and his voice rose several octaves. "Better me than that fuckwad you were dancing with. At least you knew my name."
"You’re such an asshole!" Grabbing a pillow beside her, she gathered all the strength she could muster and chucked it at him. It hit his chest and then bounced back onto the bed at her feet. "Get out!" she bellowed, the sound of her voice ringing through her head. "Get out!"
He hesitated and then let out a loud huff. "Fine. But just so you know, your car is still on the front lawn. You left it there after running down a number of the garden gnomes and God only knows what else on your way back here last night."
Garden gnomes? Angelica watched Logan storm out of the room and slam the door behind him. Crawling out of bed she padded barefoot across her bedroom, peered out her window that overlooked the front drive and groaned. Sure enough, her car had been driven up over the curb and onto the lawn, currently sitting in a bed of her mother's prized rose bushes with the driver's side tire crushing the head of a ceramic gnome.
Why in the hell did I have to drink so much? She groaned inwardly, and then remembered – because she was forced to endure whatever torture Logan had in mind for her. Because the two people she loved more than anything else in this world were both dead. Because she had let her guard down with him and he swooped in and took advantage, humiliating her and leaving her with a reminder of what she’d just done inside of her.
Her dislike for him turned to hatred. He was a despicable human being. Only a heartless bastard would do something so horrible to someone else. And she was forced to endure him! Life just wasn’t fair – not fair at all.