by Kim Wickford
I reached out to touch him, knowing it would take both hands to fully encircle that gorgeous organ. His cock pulsed and throbbed with desire. Ever so gently I stroked him, marveling that something as hard as steel could feel so silky smooth in my grip. I sat up on the pillows and drew him towards me. My mouth watered; I wanted to taste him, to savor him, to lavish his shaft with kisses.
He kneeled above me and let me wrap my greedy lips around his bulbous pink head. The air was filled with his guttural groans as I teased him with my tongue. The fragrance of his cologne and the musk of his sex was enough to leave me dizzy. I cradled his balls in my hand, surprised by their fullness, by their heaviness.
Now it was Logan's turn to run his hands through my hair. He guided my head up and down his pulsing length. I could tell his cock was on the verge of unleashing. The slightly sweet trickle of his pre-cum oozed across my tongue and stirred a ravenous hunger deep within my belly. I wanted to feel the flood of him, warm and thick, in the back of my throat. To my surprise Logan gently pulled away. Saliva dribbled down my chin. His penis was slick and coated and ready.
"What's the matter?" I gasped. "Am I doing something wrong?" I was desperate to please him, to return some of the pleasure he had given me.
"It feels amazing, Amber. But there's something I want first," he growled.
He sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt over his head, not wasting time to unfasten buttons. My hands reached up to caress his smooth, hard chest. His body was cut from granite, and I marveled at the sensual softness of his flesh as I traced the ridges of his abs.
He pushed me back, crossed my wrists together above my head, and pinned me to the mattress with one hand. In his other hand he gripped his cock and nestled it against the cleft of my pussy. The muscles in his stomach tightened as he rocked his hips back and forth. His penis glided with a delicious friction along the length of my slit. My legs squirmed and I mewed with delight. His pink head appeared and disappeared over the crest of my mound as he rubbed against my aching clit.
"You want to be fucked," he growled. It wasn't a question. "That's what you want, isn't it, Amber. You want to be fucked … hard."
I bit my lip and nodded.
His cock disappeared, and I cried out as he penetrated me. But only the tip. Barely half an inch was inside me. Not even enough to swallow his head whole. The teasing was enough to drive me insane.
"I'm not convinced," he said. "What do you want, Amber? I want to hear you say it out loud. Tell me."
"I want your cock, Logan," I whimpered. "Please, give me all of it. I want every last inch."
His teeth flashed in the darkness like a wild beast closing in on its prey. His hips tilted back as he prepared to ease his body into mine, to stretch me wide, to fill me to the hilt in a single, hard stroke.
There was another flash.
Headlights through the blinds.
The unmistakable sound of a car engine in the driveway.
"Oh, fuck!" I cried, and struggled out from under Logan. His swollen head glistened with my wetness as he rolled aside.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice still thick with lust.
"My parents are back!"
Chapter 7
I had just enough time to pull a nightgown over my head when I heard the key slide into the front door lock. Logan stumbled out across the back porch with his boxer shorts clutched to his erection. I threw the rest of his clothing after him and slammed the sliding glass door shut.
An instant later Mom and Dad turned on the hall lights and wandered into the living room. I prayed to God that Logan had moved fast enough and that my parents hadn't spotted their naked neighbor scrambling out of their backyard.
"Amber!" Mom exclaimed, pressing a hand to her breast. "You gave me such a fright! I didn't expect to see you up."
"Mom, Dad, what are you doing back so early?" My heart pounded like crazy and I felt like I was breathing too fast and too loud.
"Early? It's after midnight," Dad said.
Mom glanced around the room as if she was surprised to find the house in one piece. She picked up a lamp. She opened a cabinet door. She wiggled the legs on the coffee table. "Nothing's broken," she said in amazement. "And everything looks so clean. Don't tell me you decided to cancel your party."
I shook my head. "The celebration went ahead as planned. The reason everything looks spotless is because I spent the day tidying."
"In your night gown?" Mom asked.
I blushed. "It's more comfortable to work this way."
"Well, I must say, I owe you an apology. Your father and I completely misjudged you. I'm sorry if I referred to your friends as hooligans. From what I can see here, our home has been treated with respect."
"Of course it was, Mom. I'm not a delinquent. "
"Did Mr. Worthington stop by at all?"
At the mention of his name my cheeks burned like a prairie wildfire and beads of sweat blossomed across my forehead. She knows! My inner voice screamed. Mom knows I slept with Logan! How did she find out?
"Amber, did you hear me?"
"S-sorry, what?"
"I said, did Mr. Worthington stop by?"
"He, uh … he popped in for a moment."
Mom turned to Dad. "Harry, I think we should go over and thank him for keeping an eye on Amber this weekend."
"Agreed," Dad said and walked towards the patio door.
I took a step backward and blocked his way. "Are you sure you want to do that right now, Dad?"
"Of course. Why not?"
"I mean it's kind of late, isn't it? Mr. Worthington might be asleep." I don't know how fast Logan had scrambled back to his own yard. For all I knew he was still standing naked on his porch, fumbling through his jeans in search of his keys to get back inside his house. How would he explain his unusual appearance if my parents showed up out of the blue?
"Logan's a night owl," Dad insisted. "I'm sure he's still awake."
The glass door reverberated as I backed against it. I could feel its cool surface through the fabric of my night gown. "Maybe you should inspect the rest of the house first," I said, desperate for any excuse to keep my parents from going outside.
Dad stopped in his tracks and raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Amber, is there something you're trying to tell us?"
You mean something other than the fact that your best friend was nose-deep in my pussy a few minutes ago?
"No, Dad, nothing's wrong. I'm just saying you should make sure you're happy with the state of the house before you go offering your thanks to the man who was supervising."
He gave me a confused look. I knew my explanation made no sense at all. Lucky for me, my idiotic words bought me just enough time.
"Harry," Mom piped up, "maybe we can speak to him tomorrow. We've had a long drive and I'm feeling exhausted. This can wait until the morning."
"I suppose you're right."
The glass door squeaked against my sweaty flesh as I slumped in relief.
Dad was about to turn away when something behind me caught his eye. "What's that in the yard?" he asked.
"Nothing!" I shouted.
"What do you mean nothing? You don't even know what I'm talking about."
"What I meant to say is that I cleaned the yard earlier, so I know there's nothing out there. You must be imagining things."
"No, I'm not," Dad said, and reached over to flick on the porch floodlights.
I turned around to follow Dad's gaze, and saw something white snagged in the branches of the hedge. Something that looked like a linen shirt. An expensive linen shirt in Logan's unmistakable style. And infused with his distinctive cologne!
Oh, no!
Before I could react, Dad moved me out of the way, opened the door, and marched across the lawn. I hurried after him, casting a furtive look towards our neighbor's house. Thank God, Logan was nowhere to be seen.
Dad fussed with the torn shirt as he tried to work it free from the tangle of branches. It was obvious to me what had hap
pened: the garment had snagged when Logan leapt over the hedge during his escape.
If Dad got a chance to examine the shirt in the light he would know for sure that it belonged to Mr. Worthington. That would lead to questions. Difficult questions that would only raise suspicion.
The moment Daddy pulled the shirt free, I snatched it from his hands. "Ah, I wondered where that cleaning rag went," I said and wadded it into a tight ball to hide any clue of its ownership.
"Cleaning rag?"
"Yeah, I was using it to polish the windows earlier this afternoon." To illustrate, I ran over and rubbed the shirt across the patio door.
"You didn't have to go to such extremes, Amber."
I gave him an innocent shrug. "I thought I'd go whole-hog and give the house a really good scrub."
"That was kind of you, but totally unnecessary."
"I just want to stay on your good side in case I ever throw another party," I said with a forced laugh.
We came back inside, and this time I closed the curtains behind me in case my eagle-eyed father spotted any more of Logan's clothing that hadn't made it safely home.
"Right, I suppose we should get to bed," Mom said with a yawn. She came over, arms outstretched to give me a hug.
I backed away, fearful that the scent of Logan still clung to my body. "You probably shouldn't get too close, Mom. I've been cleaning all day. I'm feeling pretty stinky."
"I don't mind, baby. Come here and give me a kiss goodnight."
I continued to dodge her hugs until she threw up her hands in frustration and gave up chasing me around the living room. She and Dad gathered up their luggage and retired to their bedroom. It wasn't until they shut the door behind them that I finally let out a sigh of relief.
Now that the threat was safely neutralized, my heart and body ached for Logan. The doubts and fears I'd had earlier about our age difference, about him being Dad's best friend, all seemed to melt into the background. The promise of a romance with a man I'd desired for so long—a man who made me feel so good in bed—made the situation seem almost justifiable.
It took everything in my power to not sneak over to Logan's house that instant. I'd already had one close-call tonight, and I didn't want to tempt fate by risking another. I promised myself I wouldn't pay him a visit until the coast was clear and both my parents were out of the house again.
But, of course, I couldn't wait that long.
Chapter 8
I was like a kid on Christmas morning, unable to sleep, and wide awake at the crack of dawn. I crept down the hallway and paused outside my parents' bedroom door. Mom and Dad were still snoring. How they both managed to sleep through that racket I'd never know.
I hurried across the cold, dewy lawn in my bare feet, shivering because I was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe. Thankfully Logan's bedroom was on the ground floor so I didn't have to scale any drain pipes, or climb across rooftops to get to him.
His curtains were partially open and I could see him lying in bed on his stomach. One muscular arm was curled around his pillow. The sheet had slipped to his waist offering a tantalizing view of his beautiful back and the upper swells of his buttocks. If it weren't for the pre-dawn chill in the air, I could have stood there and gazed at him for ages.
I tapped lightly on the window, hoping the noise would be enough to wake him. No such luck; he slept like a log. After yesterday's cleaning session, followed by a vigorous tussle in my bed, I wasn't surprised he was still out cold.
I knocked louder, but it wasn't enough. In the end I had to thump my fist against the glass and hope I didn't accidently rouse anyone else in the neighborhood—namely my parents.
Logan stirred and lifted his sleepy head from the pillow. How was it possible for him to always look so damn sexy when he woke up? His eyes went wide when he caught sight of me peering at him. I gestured for him to let me in.
He came around to the back door with a sheet wrapped around his waist. The ends were bunched together in one fist. I'll admit I was disappointed he didn't greet me buck naked. As I stepped inside, he looked anxiously into my parents' yard.
"Amber, what the hell are you doing here?" he hissed. "This is dangerous."
"I wanted to see you again," I said, and tried to give him a hug.
He backed away and nearly stumbled on the trailing ends of the sheet. "Your parents are home. You shouldn't be here."
"I know, but it's early. They're still in bed."
"Which is exactly where you should be. What time is it?"
"Almost 5:30. That should give us plenty of time."
"For what?"
With a cheeky grin I pulled back the lapels of my bathrobe and gave him a quick peek at my bare breasts.
Instead of dropping the sheet, sweeping me into his arms, and carrying me off to the bedroom to finish the ravaging he had started the night before, he just looked horrified.
"No, Amber, we can't."
"What do you mean we can't? We've got a whole hour before anyone wakes up. I can think of a lot of ways to fill the time. And for you to fill me." I reached out to cup the enticing bulge in his sheet.
He brushed my hand away. "Stop it! What are you doing?"
"Logan, what's wrong?"
He looked at me, exasperated. "Your parents put their trust in me, and I took advantage of that trust."
I couldn't believe my ears. Was he really saying this to me after what we'd shared last night?
I put my hands on my hips. "As far as I'm concerned we both took advantage of the situation. We both acted on a mutual attraction. You saw the video, you saw the passion in our kisses. There's something special between us, Logan."
"We were drunk."
"Not when you were in my bed last night. If you're having doubts about your feelings for me today, maybe there's something I can do to help refresh your memory." I loosened the sash on my robe and took another step towards him.
He backed away from me as if I was a leper.
"Your Dad would kill me if he found out what I did to you."
"You didn't do anything but make me feel like the most desired and loved woman in the world."
I didn't mean to say the L-word. It kind of slipped out by accident.
Logan reacted as if I'd slapped him across the face. It was probably too soon to confess something so intimate. After all, we'd only been together once. But somewhere deep inside I couldn't deny the feelings I had for him. Ever since the night of my breakup with Chad, my heart belonged to Logan.
"What happened last night was a mistake," he said flatly.
I shook my head, unwilling to believe him. "How can you say that when you were the one who insisted we kiss again? Didn't you feel anything when we were together?"
"It doesn't matter what I feel. This will never work."
"We can make it work," I said, reaching out to touch his chest. "Please, Logan, just give us a chance."
He pointed to the door. His eyes were cold and hard. "You should leave."
It felt like my breakup with Chad was happening all over again. But I'd be damned if I was going to let Logan see me crumple into a teary mess. I took a step back and let my eyes become just as stony as his.
"Is this why you're not married anymore?" I asked, feeling the bitterness rise in the back of my throat. "Because you're a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy? Because you can't open your heart? Because you can't commit to anyone?"
His gaze softened for a brief moment. I'd touched a sore spot.
"That's not fair, Amber."
"Yeah, well neither is the way you're treating me." I turned on my heel and stormed out of his house without looking back.
When I returned to my room, I threw myself across the bed and buried my face in the pillows. How could Logan turn off his emotions so easily? How could he think of me as nothing more than a one night stand? A conquest. Or, worst yet, a mistake that never should have happened in the first place.
There was a tiny nagging part of me that knew his reluctance was
justified. I'd experienced my own misgivings last night. But those doubts were swept away the moment the floodgates of passion were opened. I'd had a small taste of Logan, and it only left me wanting more.
I might have handled his rejection better if I never had to see him again. But a hedge and a few feet of grass was all that separated us. What made things even worse was that he was always at home. And because it was the middle of summer, I was always at home too. All I had to do was look out my bedroom window and there he was, landscaping his precious backyard.
I'm sure he was taunting me on purpose by working shirtless all the time. As if that wasn't bad enough, he continued to come over to our house every week to play poker with Dad. Even though I stayed out of sight until he was gone, the faint aroma of his cologne would linger in the air and drive me crazy. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the damn man out of my mind! I was cranky and moody for days on end, and Mom could tell I was upset.
"Amber, is there anything you want to talk about?"
"I'm fine, mother," I snapped. "Please just leave me alone."
But I was far from fine. I was a surly, unpleasant mess, and to add insult to injury, I was horny all the time.
One afternoon I caught a glimpse of the topless Logan as he finished planting two new shrubs at the bottom of his garden. His jeans hung low on his hips, showing off the fuzzy treasure trail that started at his belly button and disappeared under his waistband. My hormones got the better of me. It didn't matter how angry I was that he'd rejected me, I needed to talk to him again. I needed to convince him that it could work between us. Most important of all, I needed him to fuck me.
I got down on my hands and knees and felt around for his torn white shirt that I'd stashed under my bed. I would use its return as my excuse for stopping by his house.
The back door was wide open when I stepped onto his patio. At the end of the hallway I spotted his broad, sweaty back as he disappeared into the bathroom.
A moment later I heard the shower roar to life. I imagined myself in the tub, standing behind him in the steamy spray, lathering a bar of soap across his body. I wanted to wrap my arms around his lean belly. I wanted to curl my fingers around those bulging biceps. I wanted to caress the turgid swell of his ... well, you know.