A Reputation Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 2)

by Heather C. Myers

  It was her name on his lips that finally did her in. Jesus Christ, every orgasm felt new and surprising, like this was her first one. Like she wanted more of them because each one would be unique and special. She did as he told her to. When she came, his name was the only thing that came to her mouth. She couldn't even think to say anything else.

  He finished soon after she did. His grip on the back of her thighs tightened and she knew she would have bruises in the shape of fingerprints in her pale flesh for the next few days. The thought gave her a thrill and she squeezed her inner muscles. He must have felt her because he growled and attacked her neck with his mouth until his thrusting slowed down and Peyton suddenly realized she was sore. Not from the fucking but from her positioning of her legs, still clutching Logan's waist.

  Without letting her feet hit the floor, he swooped her up in his arms and took her back to the twin bed. They both positioned themselves into their typical pose: her head just under his arm, his head resting on top of hers. It was comfortable and intimate, and it wasn't long before they fell back asleep.

  A knock on her door woke Peyton up. She slid out of Logan's grasp and he growled in his sleep, trying to keep a grip on her even as she struggled. She finally managed to slip off the bed without waking him up. She suppressed a giggle and managed to find his t-shirt and a pair of panties. After sliding them on, she padded to her door, a small ache in her pelvis reminding her she had been thoroughly fucked by the man who had occupied her thoughts the past couple of months. She couldn't stop the smile on her face if she tried.

  It fell when she saw who was on the other side of the door.

  What was Brad doing here?

  For a moment, Peyton contemplated not answering it. He shouldn't be at her place in the first place and it wasn't as though she held office hours on the weekends. Plus, Logan was asleep on her bed and dorm rooms didn't have the luxury of a separate bedroom. If he walked in, he would clearly see Logan there on her bed, naked. He would know she was sleeping with Logan, which might not have been a big deal if she were only his TA but considering the fact that she was his student, it was different.

  He knocked again, this time louder, and Peyton's head snapped back to see if Logan woke because of it. Logan's body was still, his breathing steady. But if Brad kept persisting, Logan would wake up. If Logan woke up and found Brad at her door, he would be pissed. Logan didn't conceal the fact that he was possessive, especially considering Peyton wasn't just a girl he was sleeping with. They were more, something deeper, something that allowed them to belong to each other. She needed to answer the door and get Brad out of here as quickly as possible, before he woke Logan up and Logan got it into his head to make Brad's academic life a living hell.

  Peyton took a deep breath and answered the door, only opening it a couple of inches so Brad wouldn't be able to see her bed at all. He seemed surprised she actually answered and she watched as he took in her disheveled hair, her simple t-shirt that didn't fit and reached her thighs, her bare feet.

  "Oh - hey."

  God, was he yelling or did his voice just sound louder than it really was? She stopped herself from checking to make sure Logan was still sleeping and instead focused on the man in front of her.

  He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans. She wondered if it was still raining but Brad didn't smell like the rain. His blue eyes were soft, slightly darkened at seeing her in a rather disheveled state, not realizing the reason she looked the way she did was because she had a long night and early morning of passionate sex and sleep.

  "Can I help you, Brad?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't come out as annoyed as she felt. "If you have a question about the midterm, you can come to my office hours. You really shouldn't be here."

  "I don't have a question about the midterm," he told her and smiled. It was a charming smile and if Logan hadn't vexed her the way he had, Peyton was certain she would have been charmed by it. "I found out where you lived from a girl named Karla. I saw the two of you talking at the cafe that one time at the beginning of the quarter. I know that my timing is totally off and that we're in a weird power relationship and that this is completely inappropriate but I wanted to know, if you wanted, after the quarter ends, if maybe I could buy you coffee sometime." He shook his head, shy. "I know I should have waited until after the quarter but I didn't know if you were leaving for the holiday or if you were planning to stay and I didn't want to take the chance that I might lose you."

  Brad was sweet but he was also talking too much. If Logan was a light sleeper, he would have heard that. She knew Logan well enough to know he wouldn't blame her for Brad's behavior but that didn't mean he wouldn't try and take it out on Brad in some way during class.

  "Brad," she said in a voice just above a whisper. She wanted to tell him she was flattered, that he was sweet, that any girl would be lucky to have him. But she wasn't that girl and she couldn't just be nice to be nice. She didn't want to lead him on but she didn't want to be mean. She needed to be firm and honest. He deserved that much. "You shouldn't be here. It's completely inappropriate."

  "You're right," he said, nodding his head, his cheek a dashing shade of red. "Maybe I could ask you after the quarter then?" His eyes were big and brown and hopeful.

  Peyton swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. She wasn't the type of girl who broke hearts. Guys barely noticed her and didn't ask her out. This was new and different and she didn't know how to handle this.

  "I'm seeing someone, Brad," she told him, hoping her voice was gentle.

  "Oh." His voice was distant. Flat. "Of course. Of course you are." He looked around, as if suddenly realizing where he was. "I should go. You're right. I shouldn't be here. I'm so sorry."

  Peyton gave him a smile and waited until he was down the hall before shutting the door softly behind her and locking it securely, ensuring Brad wouldn't come back and open it because he needed to tell her one more thing. Not that he was that type of guy but she wouldn't necessarily put it past him to try something and that was the last thing she needed.

  "What the fuck was that?" Logan asked, his hazel eyes dark with both lust and possession.

  Peyton didn't think it was appealing that he thought of as a possession. She wanted to belong with someone rather than to someone. But the way Logan was looking at her with those eyes made her pelvis moisten and she decided she did belong to him - just like he belonged to her.

  "Um." Peyton wasn't quite sure how to respond. She didn't know how long Logan had been awake or what he would think no matter what she said. But he was waiting. He wasn't accusing her of anything, and that had to count for something. He was giving her the chance to tell him her side of the story, to give him some kind of explanation - and he deserved and explanation, considering. "Brad came to ask me out."

  Logan wasn't wearing anything except boxer briefs - a black color - that fit him in all the right places and made sure everything was securely in place. His arms were crossed over his chest, putting a gentle strain on his biceps. His hair was messy and fell into his face. His shoulders - so broad, as though they carried the entire world on his shoulders and no one knew it except him - tensed as he cocked his head to the side and he narrowed his eyes at her.

  "I got that," he said. "What I'm wondering is why the fuck he would do something as bold and as stupid as that?"

  Peyton furrowed her brow. "You think it's stupid to ask me out?" she asked. She couldn't help but feel slightly offended by his tone, considering he had yet to officially ask her out himself.

  "Yeah, I fucking do," he said with a quick nod of his head. "Shit like that could get him into a fucking ton of trouble."

  Peyton rolled her eyes. "And when did you suddenly become so concerned with Brad's academics?" she asked, her tone droll.

  "I don't give a shit about his academics," Logan corrected. "I meant, with me."

  Peyton clenched her jaw to keep from whimpering at the simple statement but she couldn't stop her eyes from filling with lust. "Oh, really?" she asked, ho
ping her voice didn't come out as strained as it sounded.

  He didn't reply until he made his way directly in front of her. He only stopped until he was a breath away from her, so he had to crane his neck downwards to meet her eyes.

  "Really," he said in that sandpaper voice, his voice no louder than a whisper. "Fuck, every time I see you in my t-shirt, I want to fuck you in it." He turned her around and pressed her against the wall as his hands trailed down to her waist. Slowly, he began to inch it up over her backside before gripping her ass with his hands. "You're mine now, sweetheart. And I'm yours. That means that if I see anyone hitting on you, I get to step in and say something about it. People need to realize that you aren't available anymore."

  "That's what wedding rings are for," Peyton said without thinking.

  "Sex must be fucking amazing for you to be proposing marriage to me already, sweetheart," he said in her ear, his lips grazing her ear, his scruff tickling her skin. He didn't seem tense about the slipup and even seemed intrigued. Without warning, he bit the side of her neck and pushed into her. She moaned, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and she pushed her backside into him, causing him to grunt.

  He reached down and caressed her backside with his large hands before shredding her panties in two. The slips of material didn't even have the chance to fall to the floor before he pushed her back down and thrust into her. She was still reeling from the pain of his bite but it soon subsided in lieu of the pleasure he was giving her.

  This sex was raw and possessive. His hands gripped her hips in a way that told her he wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon. His cock was hard and insistent, ensuring that she didn't even think about any other person in a sexual context. He was staking his claim and she was letting him, and even though she was being fucked against the wall and couldn't touch herself, Logan was able to hit her exactly where he needed to before she came hard and quick. He buried himself into her, following just after she did.

  She loved the sounds he made when he came. She was starting to learn that the hitch of his breath and the small grunt meant he was close, and only when his grip on her tightened and his brow wrinkled did he finally reach his climax.

  When they finished, they sank to the floor, Logan still had a hold of her hips and didn't let them go for a while.

  "Fuck, I love coming inside of you," he muttered as he kissed her neck, right where he bit her before. "If that doesn't make you mine, I don't fucking know what else will."

  Chapter 12

  Logan didn't spend the night that night. It was probably for the best. They needed some space to evaluate everything that had happened and what they were going to be. The weekend was over. Monday morning came roaring back, reminding each of them that they actually had individual lives, commitments, and goals they needed to work towards. The night alone helped Peyton refocus and she got up early once more to shower. Unfortunately, the shower facilities weren't as empty as they had been Sunday morning. She still managed to get one of the last empty stalls, but after she finished and was blow drying her hair, the girl next to her whistled and narrowed her gaze directly toward Peyton's neck.

  "Damn, girl," she said. "Get some last night?"

  It was only then that Peyton saw the bite mark on her neck, clear for the entire world to see. Her face turned the color of beets and she immediately hurried up with her hair so she could spend the majority of her time trying to cover the mark up. It wasn't violent; it almost resembled an intense hickey so there was no mistaking Peyton received it in the throes of passion. She just hoped nobody recognized Logan Jeffrey at her dorm anytime soon because it didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together in order to figure out who did that to her.

  She also couldn't show up late to class because she didn't want Logan to think that she was using her new relationship with him to her advantage. She wanted to go on with her life as normally as she could. No one could know about them. That much was clear. But there was something inside of Peyton that told her Logan bit her like that on purpose. That was a predatory bite, as though he wanted to tell the world that she belonged to him and no one else. On the one hand, she was disgusted that she was being used like a piece of property he owned. On the other, she liked that he was territorial over her. Not in the dangerous sort of way. It was more the idea than anything else. Logan didn't strike her as the jealous type and to see him act out of character because of her made her feel desirable and powerful, two feelings that were a relatively new concept for her.

  She spent the rest of her time putting makeup on the bite in order to conceal it as best as she could.

  By the time she finished and inspected it thoroughly in the mirror, she decided that she had done her absolute best to conceal it. To an innocent onlooker who happened to study her neck, it looked slightly discolored but nothing to question. There was no way anyone would suspect she had been bitten in the throes of passion, except for maybe Logan and that was if he even realized he had done that.

  When she was satisfied, she left, only returning to her room to drop off her pajamas and grab her things. She made it to class a few minutes before it began and she managed to stroll to her seat before Logan even looked up from his phone. When he did, however, his eyes immediately honed in on her bite mark, or lack thereof.

  No. Logan clearly knew he had left a mark on her and now he was looking for it. She watched his jaw tick before he ripped his eyes away from her neck to meet her eyes and when that finally happened, she realized that he did not look happy about the fact that it wasn't quite there anymore.

  Class went by quickly. It was odd, watching him from her new perspective. Watching him teach as a lover rather than just a student with an infatuation. Peyton didn't think it was possible but it almost felt as though she was even more attracted to him now than she had been before. There was a pride streaming through her bloodstream as she took in every movement, every stride, every smile. It made her heart flutter and her panties soak. She wished he would bend her over his desk and take her from behind. Immediately her face flared up at the thought and she had to look away from him, afraid he could read her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was distract him. However, when she finally looked up at him, she found him looking at her, his hazel eyes a shade darker and his jaw tightened on its hinges, even as he spoke.

  He knew. It was as though he could tell from her blush what she was thinking.

  When he finally dismissed the class, he strolled over to where she sat. He crossed his arms over his chest but didn't say anything, didn't even look at her. Peyton didn't have to hear him say anything to know that he wanted her to hang behind. She pretended to slowly put her things away in order to give the impression that she wasn't staying behind on purpose. Although, Logan could have just asked, considering it wasn't a secret that she was also his TA.

  "What the fuck is that?" he asked, gesturing at the concealed mark after the door closed and the classroom was completely empty save for them.

  "Oh, you mean the bite mark you left on my neck for the entire world to see?" Peyton asked, perking her brow and shooting him a questionable stare.

  "No," he replied, shaking his head. "What is that shit covering up the bite mark?"

  Peyton rolled her eyes. "Makeup," she snapped, her fingers curled into fists and her hands resting on her hips. "You didn't actually think I would be okay walking around with that, did you?"

  "Why would you cover up something like that?" he asked. He didn't seem possessive or controlling about it, he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.

  "Because I'm not five," she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  "This has nothing to do with your age, sweetheart," he said, an edge to his tone. He almost sounded offended and she wondered if he was just sensitive because she mentioned the word age. Immediately she banished the thought because Logan didn't seem to be the type to be insecure about his age. "I gave that to you."

  "Do you want me to walk aro
und like you marked your territory so now, no one can claim me?" she asked, wrinkling her brow. "I'm not a cow, Logan. You can't just stick your brand on me and then parade me around with it like you're saying no one can have me anymore."

  "You are mine," Logan said through his teeth, taking a step toward her. "I don't have to prove that to fucking anybody."

  "Then why are you so upset that I have a mark on my neck that I covered up?" she asked. She tried not to get too defensive, tried not have attitude in her tone but it was difficult and she had never been that patient.

  "It happened, sweetheart," he told her. His gaze was a fiery gold and he held her gaze with his easily. His tone was low but serious and nothing short of dangerous. Not that he would hurt her in any way but that he was being serious and it was imperative to him that she take what he had to say seriously. "We happened."

  "I'm not denying that we did," Peyton said.

  "You're covering it up," he pointed out, gesturing toward the mark without touching her. He clenched his jaw and kept any other words that wanted to come out in and she was surprised at his restraint. "What happened, happened."

  "I'm not denying that," Peyton told him. "I would never hide you." When she said that, she was surprised that the words were fluid out of her mouth, that she meant them without question. "But I do care about my reputation. And people are going to assume I'm with you because of yours."

  "What's wrong with that?" Logan asked, again genuinely perplexed.

  "You have no idea how hard I worked to be taken seriously," she told him. "All people see when they look at me is blonde hair and legs. They don't see who I really am."

  Logan paused a long moment, reaching out to curl a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Peyton leaned into it, her eyes almost closing at the contact. He typically reserved these moments when they were alone in her room. Even though they had only really been together for the weekend, she had automatically assumed he wasn't the type of guy who did public displays of affections. Then again, he also wasn't the type to have girlfriends, either - if that was what she was, anyway.