Taking It Easy: Boys of the Big Easy book two

by Erin Nicholas

He chuckled. “I kind of love that you are the one needing me so badly.”

  She squeezed his ankle again. “Pregnancy hormones.”

  “Uh-huh.” He licked just behind her ear and then bit her earlobe gently. “You tell yourself whatever you need to. As long as it keeps happening.”

  She gave a breathless little laugh. “You might not think that after I start getting huge and round.”

  He ran his hand down over one breast to her stomach and stroked over the thin cotton of her top. “I don’t think so, babe.”

  She bit her bottom lip. He was so damned sweet sometimes. And sexy. All the time. “We could do hair later,” she said, arching her back to get a little closer to his hand and hoping he might slip it up under her shirt. Or lower into her pants. Or one of each. He had two hands, after all.

  Instead, his hands went back to her hair. “Once I get you naked, I tend to forget about everything else,” he said, pulling the brush through her hair again.

  She sighed. And not in the “wow, that’s so hot” way from before. “Okay, fine,” she mumbled.

  He just laughed again and she couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, he was feeling cocky about her being horny after all those months that he’d been flirting with her and asking her out. Fine. He could be arrogant about that. Because she really did want him. Badly.

  Logan gathered her hair at the base of her head. “Okay, this is as far as I can get on my own.”

  She chuckled. “All right, so this might need some work after all. Hand me the box.” She talked him through the steps for the French twist that Chloe would need for her recital. Dana would be there to do her hair that night, of course, but she knew that the girls all liked to do their hair for rehearsals too.

  Logan patiently went through the steps and was amazingly gentle with the bobby pins. Too gentle.

  “You have to dig them in,” she told him, holding the shank of hair that had fallen.

  “Fuck. It doesn’t hurt?”

  “Well, sure if you get into the scalp it will, but you have to really get into the hair.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered again, but he redid three of the pins.

  She smiled. She assumed he’d watch his mouth when he was doing this with Chloe. She patted the spot. “Yeah, that feels good.”

  Dana heard him take a deep breath. “Thank you, Jesus.”

  She reached up and started taking the pins out. “Okay, now do it again.”

  He groaned. She looked back at him with a grin. “You have to practice. That took way too long, for one thing. And for another, you’re not going to have someone sitting this still, coaching you. She’ll be wiggly and you’ll be distracted by Grace doing God-knows-what and dinner and the fact that you only have about ten minutes to do it all. So—” She put the pins in his hand. “Do it again.”

  And he did. A little faster and easier than last time. The third time was even better. By the fourth, she could tell he was getting bored. Internally shaking her head, because she knew all about people getting bored sitting still too long, she went up on her knees in front of him, still facing forward. “Okay, now you have to do it with distraction.”

  “Distraction? You gonna wiggle for me, Dana?” he asked, that low husky drawl distracting her for a moment. He ran his hands from her hips to her waist and pulled her back, nuzzling her neck. “I like your hair up. Gives me more access to skin.” He dragged his prickly jaw up the side of her neck and she shivered as goose bumps broke out over her arms and back.

  So now he was interested in seduction? Well, no. He needed to finish this hair thing first. His rules.

  She pulled away and put his hands on her shoulders. “Twist. Again. Go.”

  But as he pulled the pins out and brushed through her hair again, she did wiggle. And she ran her hand up and down his calf under his pant leg. And thought of all the ways she could distract him so that they would both know for certain he could handle the hair thing when it came time. And just because it was fun.

  “You want to be an expert at this, right?” she asked him, as he gathered her hair at her nape.

  “Yep. No more shoelaces and disappointed dancers.”

  “Okay.” Dana pulled away and stripped her shirt off.

  “Uh,” was his only response.

  “Now go,” she said, gathering her hair back for him again.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “Making sure you can do this while distracted.”

  There was a pause. Then he grasped the ponytail where she held it and tipped her head back with a little tug. He put his mouth right to her ear. “Take your pants off too.”

  Oh boy, what had she started? But she did as he said, sliding her pajama pants down and then kicking them off.

  He held her hair tightly, something that always, surprisingly, made her hot. She’d never had someone do that before. Then again, she’d only been with one guy in college before she’d met Chad. Chad had been a dominant lover too. Sex against the wall and on the kitchen table hadn’t been unusual. But for some reason, she felt like Logan was…dirtier. Not afraid to say what he was thinking, and he made the most everyday things hot. It was the drawl. Probably.

  “Now touch yourself,” he told her, twisting her hair in the first step. “Play with those pretty nipples for me.”

  Dana took a shaky breath and lifted her hands. She’d been turned on since he’d showed up, and while she would have loved to have his hands on her breasts, at this point she was fine with whatever. She cupped her breasts, running her thumbs over the tips, and giving a happy sigh.

  “Don’t stop,” he said firmly as he twisted her hair again and lifted it.

  She wasn’t about to stop. Unless he wanted to replace her hands with his mouth. “No problem,” she told him, her eyes sliding shut as she plucked at her nipples and relished the feel of Logan’s hands in her hair.

  He started with the bobby pins at the bottom. When he had four or five in place, he said, “Now stroke your clit.”

  Her body clenched at the words. She pulled one knee up and slid her hand down to her mound.

  “Finger on your clit, Dana,” he ordered gruffly in her ear.

  He was watching, she knew. He was just holding her hair now, her head tipped back, his lips against her ear, watching her fingers.

  She slid lower, circling her clit and giving a little sigh. She pressed and circled faster. This wasn’t quite as good as him doing it, but this was fine. She was just fine.

  “Now inside,” he told her. “I want you to slide two fingers inside that sweet pussy.”

  Gladly. She needed the pressure, the fullness. She did it, unable to keep from moaning softly.

  “That’s in. In and out. Stroke deep,” he coached her, his fingers tightening in her hair.

  She let her knee fall out to the side and pressed deeper.

  “Keep going. Make yourself come,” he told her, starting to apply more bobby pins to her hair. “I want you slick and hot when I’m done here so I can slide deep.”

  She moaned louder this time and slid her fingers in and out, loving the sensation and the thought of Logan taking her after this. She kept moving as she felt Logan finishing the twist in record time.

  “That’s it, Dana,” he told her, securing the last bobby pin, then dropping his hands to her nipples, plucking and pinching. “Come for me. Come all over your fingers. I’m going to suck them clean, then you’re going to get up here in my lap and come on my cock.”

  Her breathing hitched and her muscles clenched, and as he squeezed one nipple and kissed her neck, she felt herself climbing to the peak.

  “I can already taste you,” he said huskily. “I want you on my tongue.”

  And she shot over the edge. She gave a little cry as the orgasm hit. Logan grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand from between her legs to his mouth. The ripples of pleasure kept going as she felt the hot suction on her fingers. He licked and sucked, then lifted her, bringing her onto his lap. She was still facing away from him and there
was something strangely hot about not looking at him as he lifted her and then lowered her onto his cock.

  It was him taking over. She knew that. There were no decisions to be made here, no responsibility, no keeping track of someone else. She didn’t have to worry about birth control, he was telling her what to do, and she wasn’t even looking at him. She was fully absorbed in her pleasure, her body. And it felt amazing.

  Logan lifted and lowered her, talking dirty, his hand wandering from nipple to clit, filling her and moving her closer and closer to that delicious pinnacle. Yes, she’d just had an orgasm, but it just wasn’t the same with her fingers. They would do—they had done for a long time—but having a huge cock on a sexy guy who knew how to use it…there was no replacement for that.

  Dana let her head fall forward, bracing her hands on his thighs and just moved with his thrusts. She closed her eyes and let the sensations take over, relishing the few minutes where she didn’t have to do anything but feel amazing. But it didn’t take Logan long to get her spiraling into another orgasm and Dana completely let herself go, not worrying about him or how wanton she sounded or…anything. And it was glorious.

  Logan was right behind her, his hands gripping her hips hard and her name coming from between clenched teeth only moments later. She felt him rest his forehead on her back and take a huge, deep breath, and she gave a long, contented sigh.

  “How’s my hair look?” she asked.

  She felt him chuckle. “Those bobby pins really hold when you put them in right.”

  Dana laughed and sat back. He wrapped his arms around her and sat back into the couch cushion, bringing her up against his chest. “And you passed the distraction test.”

  “Awesome.” He stroked a hand over her stomach and Dana wondered if he was aware of the action.

  “Stay.”

  The word was out before she could think twice about it.

  She felt his surprise in the way his body tensed under her. “Stay the night?” he asked.

  She nodded, wetting her lips. Okay, this was big. Having a guy stay the night with her girls just down the hall was huge, actually. It had never happened except for their dad. And this, with Logan, was fast. They’d had a one-night stand and now, a week after finding out they were pregnant, she was asking him to stay over. But…Logan was a part of this now. He was going to be around. A lot. For a very long time. And she’d seen him at the family gatherings. She knew how close he was to his brother and his mom and the kids. Logan was a good guy. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Yeah,” she said, softly. “Stay the night.”

  “I’m asking this one time,” he said. “And only one time. No matter your answer, I’m not asking again, so be sure.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you positive that’s what you want?”

  She did. She really did. For very selfish reasons. Because she would love more of what he’d just done to her. And it would be pretty awesome to have someone hold her all night.

  Remember he’s the chauffeur, party-planner and sex therapist, she reminded herself. Sure, the cuddling would be a nice bonus, but she’d gotten by without that for a long time.

  Chauffeur, party-planner, sex therapist, she repeated silently.

  Okay, so he could give her another orgasm and then maybe he could run Chloe to school in the morning. Dana could take Grace, whose school was on her way to work, and Logan could take Chloe and it would save them all nearly thirty minutes. Heck, she could make a breakfast of more than cereal and peanut butter toast with that extra time.

  “Dana?”

  She focused on Logan and realized that yes, she wanted him to stay and that it wasn’t just about the orgasms and school drop-offs. She wanted to wake up with him and make him an omelet and…start her day by talking to him.

  But she forced herself to concentrate on the other stuff. Getting too used to having someone’s scent on her sheets, someone’s hand in hers, someone’s smile across the breakfast table made it really hard to go back to not having those things when they were gone. Lindsey would help with the chauffeur duties, Dana could muddle her way through the parties, and she had a pretty great vibrator. But that other stuff was really hard to replace.

  She gave him a smile. “I want you to stay,” she told him honestly. “And you can practice doing hair on the girls for school in the morning.”

  That would save her another ten minutes right there. That would be very helpful. Which was what Logan was going to be in her life. Not something that she would crave and want all the time and miss with an aching in her chest when it was gone.

  She’d been there, done that. She’d fallen in love with a guy who couldn’t be there all the time, who couldn’t be a true partner in every sense, who had been a hell of a good time when he was around, but who wasn’t there for…a lot of things. And she’d handled it. She was doing just fine. She didn’t need Logan to be there. She’d enjoy the times he was, but she wouldn’t let herself expect, or want, more.

  Logan gave her a big grin, oblivious to her thoughts and the churning emotions she was trying to ignore. “Then let’s go. I have some plans for your headboard.”

  Just like that, the melancholy thoughts dimmed and in their place was the happy sense of fun that Logan brought with him so naturally.

  And that was good enough.

  “You break my headboard and you’re buying me a new one. A very expensive new one,” she teased as she got up and pulled her pants and shirt back on.

  “If we break your headboard, I’m hanging the pieces on the wall in the bar so I can tell everyone about it,” he told her. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her up to bed.

  And she only thought about how fun it was and not about how easy it would be to get used to this.

  “We brought this last month. Everyone is going to hate me!”

  Logan felt his eyes widen but he kept his mouth shut. Hating someone over homemade trail mix for snack time seemed harsh, but what did he know about fourth grade?

  Dana sighed. “We don’t have time to make anything else.”

  She was filling snack bags with a mix of pretzels, yogurt-covered raisins, almonds—except the two bags for the kids with nut allergies—and peanut butter flavored cereal balls. A few bags had chocolate chips in them, a few had fruit snacks in them, and a few had cheese crackers in them, but she hadn’t had enough of any of those to go around. She’d basically just ransacked her cupboards after Chloe had reminded her that it was her turn to bring snacks to class.

  “I told you about it last time,” Chloe said.

  Dana nodded. “You did. I forgot. I’m very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do right now,” she said. “Next month we’ll do something else.”

  “You’ll forget,” Chloe muttered.

  Dana didn’t argue.

  Logan grinned. Mornings with the Doucet ladies was chaotic. And he kind of loved it. He slipped the elastic band around Grace’s ponytail. “Okay, pick a bow.”

  There were several bows and headbands that had black in them but only one that was all black. Grace was wearing black tights with a black-and-white striped dress, though, so Logan was assuming that her obsession with wearing black everyday didn’t mean it had to be solid black.

  She studied the choices in front of her intently. “What’s your favorite color?” she asked him.

  Surprised, he looked at the bows. “Purple,” he decided. “Definitely.”

  Grace nodded. “Yeah. That one.” She pointed at a purple one.

  Logan leaned over to look at her face. “Really? You sure?”

  She nodded. “Black is my daddy’s favorite color, but you’ll be my baby brother’s daddy, so I’ll wear purple for you.”

  The entire kitchen went quiet. Shock and an emotion he couldn’t name rocked through him. Logan looked over at Dana. She was staring at Grace.

  “Grace?” she asked, after clearing her throat. “Why do you think your daddy’s favorite color was black?”

  �
��Everyone wore it to his party,” Grace said. She looked up at Logan. “So at your funeral, we’ll all wear purple, okay?”

  Logan fought the urge to grin. Because it was slightly crazy how comfortable this little girl was with talking about death. And because he would actually love to attend a funeral where everyone wore purple. And because wearing the deceased’s favorite color was actually a brilliant idea. And because Grace was already planning his funeral.

  He gave her a solemn nod. “Thanks, honey.”

  She looked at her mom. “And we’ll all wear blue at yours.”

  Dana blinked at her. “Well…um…okay.”

  Grace looked at Logan. “My mom’s favorite color is blue.”

  “I didn’t know that,” he told her honestly. “Thank you.”

  Grace lifted her shoe, with the bright blue shoelaces, one of which Logan had borrowed the other night for Chloe’s hair. “This kind of blue.”

  Logan nodded. “That’s the best kind of blue.”

  Grace picked up the purple bow and handed it to him, then turned again so he could put it in her hair. He looked over at Dana again and found her eyes shiny with tears. She met his gaze, and he could see that she was stunned by the fact that Grace was wearing blue shoelaces because it was Dana’s favorite color. He gave her a wink. Her daughter was an adorable, sweet, and loving little weirdo. Or maybe she was the most normal of all of them. After all, everyone was going to have a funeral. Why not make it flamboyant and use their favorite colors?

  “I wanted to take Rice Krispies bars,” Chloe said, clearly unimpressed, and unconcerned, with funerals at the moment. As a ten-year-old probably should be.

  “I have four,” Dana told her wearily. “I have four Rice Krispies bars. Snack time is at ten. I can’t get more before that.”

  “But everyone wants Rice Krispies bars!” Chloe insisted. “I told them that’s what I was bringing.”

  “Then this is a good lesson in not making promises you’re not sure you’re going to be able to keep,” Dana said, zipping the last little baggie shut and putting it in the box with the others.

  “So they’ll think I lied too,” Chloe said. “Great.”