by Kim Wickford
The ten seconds it took to receive her reply felt like an eternity.
Party games.
We played Truth or Dare.
I nearly jumped out of my skin as the patio door slid open. Logan stood half inside the house, half outside. "Backyard's almost finished," he said. "Have you got any more garbage I can take to the curb?"
Before I could answer, his phone buzzed. He tugged it from his back pocket and checked the screen. "I keep getting messages from someone called SexyStace," he said, looking vaguely annoyed. "Is she a friend of yours from the party? How did she get my number?"
As he held out his phone for me to see, I noticed he'd received a copy of the same video I just finished watching.
I leapt off the couch. "Delete that last message!"
"What?"
"Mr. Worth—Logan, trust me. You don't want to see that."
He looked at me, half amused. "Why not?"
I tried to snatch the phone from his hands as he thumbed the video open, but I wasn't fast enough. He held his arm high in the air, just out of my frantic reach.
"Hey, looks like the birthday girl had some fun last night," he teased.
"No, please! Don't watch any more!" But it was too late. I covered my face with my hands and waited for the inevitable.
"Oh, shit," he murmured.
Through my fingers I saw the color drain from Logan's face. He stepped back, putting as much distance between us as possible. "I don't remember any of that? Do you?"
I shook my head. "Everything's a blur."
He frowned, trying hard to recall something, anything. An agonizing silence stretched out between us.
"What are we going to do?" I whispered. "If my parents find out what we did—"
"They won't," he snapped.
"You can't know that for sure."
The expression on his face grew fierce. "Trust me. They come to me with their tech issues all the time. Your Dad doesn't have messaging on his phone, and your Mom can barely use Facebook. Everything will be fine."
"What about my friends?" I said. "They're going to remember."
Logan shook his head. "In a month, when summer's over and everyone's back at college, this party—and everything that happened—will be forgotten."
I wasn't so sure. In a small town nothing ever vanished for good. It didn't matter how far you swept it under the rug.
"Logan, I didn't mean for this to happen. Stacy said we were playing Truth or Dare last night. I had an awful lot to drink, and …" Tears welled up in my eyes.
"Don't worry," he said gruffly. "It's gonna be okay."
"What are we going to do?
He dragged the palm of his hand across the rough stubble on his chin as he thought. "There's only one thing we can do," he said. "Delete the video from our phones and pretend it never happened."
He was right, of course. What was the alternative? But how could I pretend that the kiss never happened? How could I erase the memory of what I'd seen in the video from my head?"
Logan hurried back outside, and I returned to the mopping. My cheeks burned as I imagined what my friends must have thought as I tongue-wrestled my older neighbor on my parents' living room couch. Everyone must have thought we were a couple of horndogs who couldn't get enough of each other.
Why did something I'd secretly dreamed of doing for the longest time—kissing Mr. Worthington—leave me feeling so scared?
Chapter 5
We avoided each other for the rest of the afternoon, speaking only when necessary, and keeping our conversations strictly about cleaning products.
Logan put his shirt back on to finish his chores, much to my relief. At nine o'clock that evening, as I was down on my knees polishing the last scuffs from the coffee table, he came into the room. Almost twenty-four hours had elapsed since he first entered the house. He looked at me as if he wanted to tell me something, but couldn't find the right words.
In the end I broke the awkward silence. "Logan, thanks for your help today. I couldn't have done this without you."
"It was my plea—" He almost uttered the word pleasure but corrected himself at the last moment, knowing how suggestive it sounded in light of what had happened between us. "I'm glad we got everything tidied up before your parents came back."
He vanished out the patio door and into the night. I flopped onto the carpet and pressed my hands to my forehead. I stared blankly at the ceiling for the longest time. My emotions felt twisted up inside me, and I didn't know what to do about them.
I have a confession to make: I didn't delete the video. An hour later, as I curled up in bed, I watched the clip over and over again. I watched the way my hips pressed against Logan's; the way my lower back arched and my buttocks dimpled through my tight jeans. I watched the way his hand reached down to caress the back of my thigh.
I fast-forwarded to the close-up of my face. My eyes were closed; my kisses were deep and tender. I can't recall smooching my ex-boyfriend, Chad, with the same kind of passion. These were not the type of kisses that someone gave when fulfilling a dare for a stupid drinking game. Somewhere, deep inside, my passion for Logan was more intense than I was willing to admit.
Oh God, the man was nearly twenty years my senior! He was my father's best friend! Everything about the situation was so wrong. I kicked off the covers in frustration. What I really needed to do was speak to Logan. I couldn't figure this out on my own.
I climbed out of bed and slipped outside. Part of me hoped he was still awake and willing to talk. The other part of me was scared shitless and hoped he was fast asleep.
I crossed the lawn and stepped onto his back porch. The curtains were drawn, but the glass door was cracked open slightly to let in some air. I peeked through the gap. Logan lay across his couch. His face glowed blue from the light of his phone. I could hear the now-familiar sounds of our video being played at low volume.
What the hell?
As hypocritical as it sounded I wanted to fling the door open and yell at him; to accuse him of being a louse for not deleting the video as we promised each other. There was only one thing that stopped me from storming in: his jeans. They were pushed down his hips, and his hand was moving up and down in his lap.
Oh my God! He was playing with himself to our video! I stood there open-mouthed; horrified and mesmerized at the same time. I wanted to tear my eyes away but somehow I couldn't. He was stroking himself in such a sensual way. His balls were covered in a soft fuzz of brown hair. They bounced in his lap looking so big and so full. To my surprise I experienced a rush of warmth through my body. My breasts felt pendulous and heavy on my chest.
I was frozen in place and all I could do was watch him pleasure himself as he watched me kiss him in the video.
I was only half aware that I'd slid my own hand beneath the waistband of my pajamas to touch the soft cleft between my legs. I trembled with a strange combination of fear and excitement. Our hands began to move in time; synchronized.
His body tensed and a grunt escaped his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as his hand began to move faster. I watched in fascination as something clear trickled from the tip of his penis. Oh God, he was close. So very close.
His arousal fueled my own. My fingers, wet and slippery between my thighs, began to move faster too. Logan looked so beautiful in that blue light, his face fierce as he teetered on the brink of ecstasy.
I must have made a sound or a gasp because his head snapped up and he looked towards the door. He quickly pulled a cushion over his lap, covering himself.
"Amber?" he hissed. "Amber, is that you?"
Shit!
I sprinted across the yard, leapt the tiny hedge, and ran straight to my bedroom. In my haste I wasn't sure if I'd locked the patio door behind me. Apparently not, because a moment later I heard Logan storm down the hallway. I pulled the covers around me, rolled over, and pretended to be asleep.
My bedroom door flew open with a crash. "What the fuck, Amber? What were you doing out there?"
I didn't make a
peep. But I was breathing too hard and too fast to fool him.
"I know you're awake," he snapped.
I whirled around to face him, getting myself tangled in the sheets in the process. My face blazed and I wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or indignation.
"What was I doing? What were you doing? You promised to delete that video, and I find you jerking-off to it. What kind of a pervert are you?"
He took a step backward, his anger momentarily halted by my accusation. But not for long. On a hunch he came over and lifted my phone from the bedside table. He turned it over in his hand. Our video was still open on the screen.
He snorted in disbelief and tossed the device onto my bed. "What kind of a pervert are you? How long were you standing outside watching me?"
"How was I supposed to know you were playing with yourself? I came over because I needed to talk. I've been upset all day, in case you haven't noticed. You've been acting funny and avoiding me." Angry tears filled my eyes. "I'm so confused, Logan."
His expression softened as I began to sob. He sat down on the edge of my bed. "If it's any consolation, I'm just as confused."
"So confused that you needed to jerk off?" I spat.
He shrugged. "What can I say? I had to take matters into my own hands."
I laughed despite myself. "I really wish I hadn't kissed you. I wish there was some way to go back in time and take it all back."
He reached over to wipe away my tears. His touch was electric and made my breath hitch in the back of my throat.
"The way I see it," he said, his voice low and solemn, "there's something we need to do."
"What's that?" I sniffed.
He stared at me in the dark, searching my eyes. "We need to kiss each other again."
A shiver passed through me. "Why?"
"Because we were drunk before. If we kiss when we're sober, and feel nothing, then we'll know for certain that last night was a one-time accident. A fluke."
"And if we feel something?"
He didn't reply.
The question hung in the air between us.
There was only one way to find out.
Chapter 6
I sat up, still bundled tight in my sheets, and tried hard not to tremble. Logan moved close. I shut my eyes as he leaned in. His lips were soft and tender against mine. There was a flutter in the pit of my belly; a feeling that spread like warm honey through the rest of my body.
The kiss was fleeting, and I began to pull away, scared and uncertain. He didn't want to let me go. Gently he gripped my lower lip between his teeth to keep me from escaping.
I didn't resist.
He reached up to cradle my face in his hands, to stroke my cheeks with the balls of his thumbs. My lips parted and my tongue reached out to find his. Our kisses were gentle and innocent at first. Then he began to explore my mouth, deep and probing. Years worth of yearning suddenly bubbled to the surface. We began to devour each other; fucking with our tongues.
A voice in the back of my head screamed, No, this is wrong. This is so wrong!
But I couldn't stop myself.
I didn't want to stop myself.
He felt so good.
He felt so right.
Without breaking the kiss, both of us struggled to free me from the mess of sheets. His mouth was against my ear, sucking at the soft flesh of my lobe. I moaned as a wave of goose bumps rippled down my neck. His tongue traced the line of my collarbone while his fingers clawed at my pajama top. As each button popped open, his mouth was there to kiss and lick the bare flesh beneath. When there were no buttons left, he pulled the halves of my top apart, exposing my breasts. Both nipples stood pink and hard, aching for his touch.
Logan pushed me against the pillows and straddled me on all fours, dominant above me. Cupping my breasts in his hands, he leaned down to run the tip of his tongue in slow circles around the puckered flesh of my areolas. The stubble on his face raised a fresh crop of goose bumps. Using nothing but his teeth, he toyed with my nipples, tugging me, nibbling me, stretching me to the limit. With each bite, a flash of pleasure shot directly to my clit. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second.
His rough hands traced the curves of my body. He licked and probed the indentation of my belly button. His lips traced the jut of my hipbones. Reaching under to grip my buttocks, he pulled me towards him. I slid down the sheets, completely under his control.
I felt him tug at my waistband. Together we removed my drenched pajama bottoms and tossed them aside. They landed somewhere on the far side of the room. Logan sat back for a long moment to admire my naked body as I lay stretched across the bed. His eyes glinted with a hungry desire as he drank me in.
"So beautiful," he whispered. There was an awed reverence in his voice. "I never imagined you'd be so beautiful."
Before I could utter a reply, he was down on his belly, spreading my knees apart and nuzzling his rough cheek against my inner thigh. A kiss fluttered against the sensitive flesh. The warmth of his breath against my crotch sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine, and a fresh trickle of arousal spilling from my pussy. His mouth moved to the opposite thigh, nipping and tonguing. Back and forth he went between my spread legs, getting closer and closer to my hot core each time, his lips almost, but not quite brushing my mound. I raised my hips off the mattress, desperate for him to stroke me, to lick me, to do anything that would put an end to the agony of anticipation that gripped me. His firm hand was on my belly, pushing me back down, keeping me at bay, showing me who was in control. He was going to take his sweet time with me, and there was nothing I could do to make him go faster.
Heat flooded my body as his mouth hovered millimeters above my slit. I gasped as he placed the lightest of kisses against my nether lips. With the tip of his tongue he gave my clit the barest of flicks. I tried to buck upwards again, greedy for more, eager to be consumed. This time he stopped me by enveloping my entire mound in the cup of his hand. I relished the exquisite pressure of his palm pressing against my delicate flesh. I felt possessed; I felt safe. Purring sounds I'd never made before filled the room as he traced a lazy finger along my wet slit, exploring each fold and crevice. He must have known I was hovering so close to the brink, but he held me there, never letting me go over the edge.
Logan raised his hand, slick with my juices, and pressed it to his lips, savoring my arousal. "You taste amazing, Amber," he breathed before diving back for more.
Instead of his palm, his whole mouth was on me. I shuddered beneath him, feeling my pussy swell with more desire than I thought was possible. The bridge of his nose brushed the underside of my clit. Deeper and deeper he probed, plundering my gushing hole with that long, dexterous tongue of his.
"Yes! Oh, yes," I gasped. "Fuck me with your mouth, Logan. Fuck me with your mouth!"
I couldn't believe such lustful words were spilling from me. I sounded like a whore, and I felt ashamed. This was so wrong. But I couldn't stop the growing surge of ecstasy that was building inside me. I didn't want it to end. My hands twisted through Logan's thick dark hair, but there was no need to guide him; he seemed to know instinctively what turned me on. All I could do was hold on tight as he took me for the ride of my life. Spasms of delight rippled through my body as he slurped and feasted on my pussy.
My back arched and I groaned as he spread me apart. First one, and then two fingers slid deep into my dripping cunt. I felt myself yawn open to accept him. He curled his digits upward and caressed me from the inside. His lips covered the top of my mound and he began to suck at my clit in earnest. The tiny bud extended and retracted from its hood at Logan's bidding, pulsing in and out of his mouth.
In and out.
Over and over.
It was too much.
I exploded.
The groan that escaped my lips turned into a shuddering cry. My thighs clamped tight around Logan's head. My buttocks clenched and lifted off the mattress. This time I couldn't be restrained. Logan hung on tight, his hands around my hips
, unwilling to let go of me as my orgasm pulsed against his mouth.
I gave a final shudder and was still. My fingers slipped from the curls of Logan's hair. My breathing was ragged as if I'd run a marathon. My breasts and torso were dewy with perspiration.
He climbed over my limp body, and turned my chin towards him. His mouth was on mine, slick with my juices. I accepted his tongue and savored the musky flavor of my pussy on his warm lips.
"I think it's safe to say that last night was not an accident," he said with a roguish grin. As he lay atop me I could feel his erection through his jeans. Not just the thickness of it, but the heat of it as well.
I was still wallowing in the afterglow of my blinding orgasm and lacked the ability to form coherent words to reply to his statement. All I could do was wobble my head in lusty agreement.
Even as I did, the nagging voice in my head tried to convince me that I was a terrible person for letting things go this far. The man was old enough to be my father. What was the matter with me?
But my pervy side was curious to discover what would happen if we kept going. If this was wrong, then maybe the only way Logan and I could truly purge our feelings for each other was to fuck it out of our systems. That seemed logical, didn't it?
My wandering fingers traced the ridge of his spine down to the small of his back. I slipped the tips of my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and caressed the firm swell of his buttocks.
"I want you inside me," I breathed when I finally regained the power of speech.
Those simple words were enough to make his cock lurch against my belly. No sooner had he eased himself up onto his knees when my greedy hands tugged at his zipper. I clawed his jeans halfway down his thighs, desperate to see him. His black form-hugging boxers enticed me with the promising shape they concealed, but nothing could prepare me for Logan in the flesh. When I yanked at his waistband his penis popped free as if spring-loaded. I drew in a sharp breath, amazed at how big he was. His hand had concealed his considerable girth when I'd caught him masturbating.