by Hazel Kelly
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“That’s why I didn’t invite you,” I said. “‘Cause I thought I made you uncomfortable last weekend. After I walked you home.”
She laughed.
I didn’t.
“I make me uncomfortable,” she said. “When I freaked out last weekend, it had nothing to do with you. It was a hundred percent me.”
“I heard your bullshit cliché the first time.”
“It’s true, though,” she said, taking a few steps towards me. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She stopped in front of me and stepped between my knees. “Or anything I didn’t want you to do.”
I leaned back on my hands and admired every inch of her, looking past her overly made up face to the shape of her feminine features before taking in her gorgeous curves. Her dress was so fucking tight I could see the shallow impression of her belly button through the tightly draped fabric.
“It’s not you I’m insecure about,” she said. “I know you would never hurt me.”
“Never.”
“It’s me.” She hung her head, and her thick lashes cast shadows on her pink cheeks. “And my lack of experience.”
I opened my mouth to set her at ease, but she kept talking.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start with you. Or how to please you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
She cocked her head. “Are you saying my feelings are ridiculous?”
I shook my head and reached for her waist, pulling her into my lap. “Of course I’m not saying that.”
She was hesitant to straddle me, perhaps because it made her dress ride up around her hips. So I didn’t even try to catch a glimpse of her underwear. Instead, I watched the subtle movements of her face as she felt me swell against the forbidden warmth between her thighs. “I’m saying your insecurities are ridiculous. Everything you do pleases me. Just you being here-”
“I can tell,” she said, shifting slightly across my length, the weight of her body causing it to ache for release.
“Good.”
“Still,” she said, rocking against me again, seemingly more out of curiosity than because she knew what she was doing to me. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if I’m not good enough?”
“Hey.” I cupped one of her cheeks in my hand. “Stop doubting yourself. Channel the confident Zoey that showed up to the frolfing tournament.”
“That was different,” she said. “I’d frolfed before.”
I shook my head. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, you’re missing the point.”
“Enlighten me, then.”
“I’m a virgin, Logan.”
I stared at her, trying to hide the shock on my face. “What?”
“I’m a virgin.”
You couldn’t be.
“So those things you said to me last weekend were a bit… overwhelming.”
Yeah, I bet.
“Are you disappointed?”
“No.” Freaked out maybe. In over my head. More fucked than I thought. But not disappointed.
She glanced down at where she was straddling me. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” My dick certainly wasn’t disappointed anyway. If anything, it seemed to have come alive at the news. “I mean, it complicates things a little, but all things considered-”
“We’re already fucked?”
“Technically, you aren’t yet.”
Her eyes drooped. “Don’t make me feel worse about it than I already do.”
“You better be kidding,” I said. “You have absolutely no reason to be sorry or embarrassed. Seriously, I mean that.”
A shallow smile pricked her cheeks. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Thanks for understanding that my dick isn’t as compassionate as I am.”
“I’ve noticed,” she said, grinding against it again.
“Your news does put some extra pressure on me, though.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“It should and it does,” I said. “If anything, it’s me that should be worried about disappointing you.”
“You’ve never disappointed me,” she said, her eyes soft. “Except for… never mind.”
“Except for what? What were you going to say?”
She gnawed on her faded red lip before flicking her eyes up to mine. “Except for when you picked her.”
Fuck. I couldn’t apologize. I couldn’t dismiss what Piper and I had. But I couldn’t handle the earnest look on Zoey’s face either. “I can’t change the past, Zo.”
“I know, but…”
“But what?”
“Didn’t you ever wonder whether it should’ve been us?”
Of course I did. But I loved Piper. And Zoey still loved her. I knew why she was asking, why she had to ask, but I had enough regrets without piling on. “All that matters is that there’s an us now.”
“But there can’t be,” she said. “At least not according to everyone else. I mean, what will we even say?”
“Nothing,” I said. “We don’t have to say anything to anyone. This can be our secret until we decide otherwise, together.”
“But you just kissed me in front of a room full of people?!”
“Damn straight,” I said. “And if I ever catch you wearing another dress like that in public, I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.”
T W E N T Y S E V E N
- Zoey -
It was wrong. So wrong. On so many levels.
Yet it felt right, sitting in Logan’s lap like this, hiding out at our own private party.
And kissing him had provided a much-needed release.
I thought acting on our feelings would make me feel terrible, but I was actually relieved, as if suppressing my feelings all that time had been the hard part, the torturous part.
By comparison, the act of kissing him had been deliciously effortless. Like finally allowing yourself a donut after four years dieting. Except with the donut, there might be immediate repercussions like guilt, regret, or negative physical consequences. Whereas I wasn’t suffering any of those things.
In fact, there was absolutely no doubt in my body or mind that it had been worth it. And all the reasons that kept me from doing it sooner- like Piper and my parents and the papers in my dad’s desk that said Logan was family- felt a million miles away.
So what had really changed? Besides the fact that we’d crossed the invisible line neither of us ever asked to have drawn between us, no one else had been hurt.
Then again, maybe it was only a matter of time before those negative consequences materialized. Maybe the only reason I didn’t feel them already was because I was too distracted by the way Logan’s thick cock had swelled in his jeans, the seam of which lay right against my clit, sending waves of warmth through my body in response to even the slightest movement.
“Now what?” I asked, more eager to give myself to him than ever.
“Don’t take this the wrong way.”
My high spirits sank.
“But I think we should take things slow.”
“Slow?” I repeated, hoping I’d misunderstood.
“Which isn’t to say I don’t want to lick your virgin pussy into submission and make you as wet as I promised, because I do.”
Holy shit.
“But after how long we’ve waited-”
“We’ve?” I asked, suddenly confused. “How long have you wanted this?”
His lips twitched.
I could tell he didn’t want to answer, and I knew there was probably no end to the complicated reasons why.
“Remember when we came across that stray dog outside 7-Eleven?”
I squinted at him.
“After the Jack White concert?” He searched my face. “We did a beer run, remember? And Johnny accidentally bought menthols.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, the hazy memory coming to the fore. “He was on another level that night.”
“Do you remember making our whole
car full of wasted people with full bladders wait so you could go inside, buy a little packet of dog food, and empty it onto the sidewalk?”
“Yeah, but you could tell by that dog’s teats that she had puppies somewhere! She needed to eat.”
“I know,” he said. “You kept that saying that to the other strays you chased away like a lunatic.”
I scrunched my face. “Did I?”
He nodded. “You did. You also refused to get back in the damn car until she was finished licking gravy off the pavement.”
“Are you messing with me right now?”
“I’m not saying that was the exact moment I started wanting this,” he said. “But it was probably around that time.”
But you were with Piper then.
“Hey, you asked.”
“Moving on swiftly,” I said, slightly mortified by my unorthodox seduction tactics and the fact that I’d inadvertently employed them when he was still very much my best friend’s boyfriend. “What were you saying before? About all the waiting?”
“Just that it seems silly to rush through all the ways I want to enjoy you before-”
“Before what?”
“Before we fuck.”
“Oh right,” I said, my heart squeezing in my chest.
“If you decide that’s what you want after everything else is said and done.”
“When you say everything, what exactly do you mean?”
“I mean there’s nothing I won’t try if it’ll turn you on.”
“Wow.” I wrapped my hands around his shoulders. “In that case, could you say more things like that going forward and leave the conversations about starving strays with saggy teats for when I’m not sitting on your impressive boner.”
He smiled.
“What?”
“If you’re already impressed, it’s a good thing you’re sitting down.”
I ran my hands down his chest, wondering what it would feel like to have his bare skin against mine, his muscles flexing over me, around me, inside me.
“I think we should start with dry humping.”
I pulled back. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, bucking his hips so the seam of his jeans rubbed my sensitive bud.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not that inexperienced.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” I said. “I’ve definitely dry humped before.”
A flash of mischief lit up his eyes. “Prove it.”
T W E N T Y E I G H T
- Logan -
She eyed me skeptically. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“But there’s nothing in that for you.”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“If you think I’m not going to get any pleasure from watching your expression flicker as you grind your pussy against my dick, then you really do have a lot to learn.”
“Is that really what you want?” she asked, her tentative eyes on mine as she began rolling her hips from side to side. “For me to tease myself all over the outside of your pants?”
I nodded as her hips found their rhythm. “That’s exactly what I want.”
Her brow flinched as she worked herself against me, and my dick solidified as the pink of her cheeks deepened with her arousal.
“I don’t want you to stop until your panties are so wet I can wring them out over my mouth.”
“Fuck, Logan,” she breathed. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“Harder,” I said, pulling her hips down. “Press your full weight against me.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip.
“That’s it.” I leaned back on my hands and watched her hips roll side to side. “Imagine that I’m buried deep inside you, coated in your hot silk.”
She whimpered and grabbed the front of my shirt, fisting it in her hands to steady herself like she was riding a mechanical bull on a slow setting.
“Wetter,” I said. “I want you wetter.”
“This does feel good,” she said, forgetting the way her dress was sliding up her hips and bunching towards her waist.
I could tell by the way she was moving her body that she was going to be fantastic in bed. After all, the only difference between great and lousy sex was how into it the participants were, how receptive they could be to their own physical urges. And Zoey was feeling me, riding me… outside herself. She was following her body’s lead and taking the pleasure that was rightfully hers without apology. She was a natural. And it was brilliant to see her let her guard down.
“I’m close,” she said. “If I don’t stop, I’m going to-”
“Stop then,” I said. “Let me take you the rest of the way.”
She licked her lips and leaned forward to kiss me, her mouth fitting mine perfectly as her taste filled my chest with fire.
I put one hand on the back of her neck so I could kiss her deeper and, with the other, I found the wettest part of her underwear and started rubbing it the same way she’d been doing, slowly and in gentle circles, applying more pressure as my fingers rolled over her swollen bud.
She moaned in my mouth, and I flipped her onto her back, lying next to her on the bed so I could get even more lost in her kiss and in between her legs.
I lifted my head, admiring her flushed face as I slid my hand in the top of her underwear, my cock swelling when my fingertips met the delicate flesh of her pink lips. “You want this,” I said, accidentally making it sound more like an order than a question.
“Yes,” she whispered, her big eyes on me. They fluttered as I traced her soaked slit, and a deep growl echoed up my throat.
“God, Zoey, I want you so bad.” I dipped a finger in her heat to see how tight she was, my mouth watering at the way she clenched around me.
“I want you, too,” she said, gasping as I thrust another finger inside her.
I leaned down so my breath was hot against her ear. “Come for me, Zoey. Come so hard you soak my wrist.”
“Logan,” she breathed, her eyelids heavy as she stretched around me. “Oh God.”
When she gushed again, I added one more finger, trying to determine how wet I’d have to get her before she could take me.
She moaned and dug her head back into my comforter, clenching it in her fists as I picked up the pace.
She was so wet I was dying to taste her. Just one little taste. But I couldn’t. I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking things too far, and a pussy this precious was like fine dining in a sea of fast food. It deserved to be savored, lingered over, and celebrated in as many courses as possible.
Besides, I wanted her satisfied, not overwhelmed, and she was already clamping down on my fingers so hard I was liable to lose my tongue if I got ahead of myself.
“You’re gonna make me come,” she said, stretching her arms over her head and thrusting her chest towards the sky.
I kept my pace steady but planted my thumb beside her clit so I could control the waves of her pleasure.
Moments later, she groaned and curled upwards, her body choking my wet fingers with a serious of violent throbs before collapsing back on the bed.
I clenched my jaw and drove my fingers into her a few more times, relishing her every hot release. When I finally pulled them out, I bumped her swollen bud and she flinched, making me wish I were sucking it while her pleasure dripped from her.
“That was incredible,” she said, her voice airy and ethereal.
“You felt amazing.”
“Yeah?” she asked, lifting her head for a second.
I nodded.
She lay back down. “Not just good with wood, then?”
I laughed. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“That’s an understatement,” she said. “From now on I’m never leaving my room without putting this dress on.”
“Hey,” I said, pulling her close. “It’s not the dress that’s sexy. It’s you. You could’ve shown up in a hemp kimo
no, and you’d still be the sexiest girl here.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to wear it again.”
“Of course I want you to wear it,” I said. “But only for me. Behind closed doors.”
“Well, if what just happened is going to happen every time, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling until I noticed Zoey wriggling her dress down out of the corner of my eye. “Hey,” I said, turning my head as I laid a hand over her hips. “It took me a long time to get that dress up to there. Don’t you dare pull it back down.”
She laid a hand over the bulge in my pants. “Can I help you with that?”
“Another time,” I said, though my dick despised me for it. “For now, just lie there feeling good. That’s enough for me.”
“But your boner will be wasted.”
“I’ll save it for you. Trust me.”
She looked at me and then down at it again. “But it’s pimps and hos night.”
“I must’ve gotten that mixed up with finger-fuck your adopted sister night.”
“Seriously, Logan, I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”
“And I want you to keep begging to play with my dick, but I said we’re taking things slow, so that’s how we’re going to take it.”
“You’re positive?”
“Absolutely,” I lied.
“As long as I didn’t do anything wrong.”
I rolled onto my side. “Zoey.”
“Yeah?” She rolled over to face me, too.
“Have you ever had a dream you didn’t want to wake up from?”
“Of course.”
“That’s what you are for me.”
Her wide eyes searched mine.
“So forgive me if I’m not moving fast enough for you, but I’m afraid if I rush through this feeling, I won’t get to have it anymore.”
“But that implies there has to be an end.”
“Everything comes to an end,” I said. “Especially good things.”
“But this is only the beginning.”
“I know,” I said, trailing a finger down the side of her face. “Which is the best part.”
She shook her head and laid a hand on my chest. “What can I do to convince you otherwise?”