Beg for Me

by Natalie Anderson

  “Yeah, I know.” Logan smiled wryly. “So you fell for him?”

  She’d been ripe for the picking. “I’d always been shy of social stuff. But he... took it slow with me.” He’d seemed so serious about her. They’d studied together, he’d walked with her. He’d earned her trust.

  “But then he proposed?”

  “Everyone was shocked. Especially me. My m-mom was thrilled.”

  “Is that why you said yes?”

  “I was... flattered. Thought I was in love.” She’d said yes because she’d thought she’d be secure. Same silly fault as her mother’s. That she wouldn’t be alone anymore, wouldn’t be judged. Wouldn’t have to prove herself—have to try to be anything but herself.

  “Flattered?” he frowned. “And then what happened?”

  “I heard them once. Him and his friends. T-t-talking about me.”

  Logan shifted, turning so he blocked her view of the aisle. Giving her privacy, the protection of his body and his attention. “Saying what?” he asked very quietly.

  “They were asking him... laughing...”

  “Asking what?”

  Does she stutter when she c-c-c-omes. Does she s-s-s-cream for B-B-B-Bryce...

  She could hear the jibes now, as they imitated her. Mocked her.

  “If I... could even say his name when we were having sex? If I stuttered when I g-got off?” Min pulled her hand from Logan’s gentle hold and curled her arms across her chest. She winced again as she relieved the moment. She’d wanted to shrivel and disappear completely. “I was so humiliated,” she whispered.

  For them to be asking about her sexual performance? For them to laugh about something so deeply personal and private?

  “What’d he do?” Logan asked. “He tell them to shut the hell up?”

  “He j-just laughed.” Bryce had just laughed. He’d not defended her. He’d not said anything. Whether that was immaturity or embarrassment or outright meanness, she didn’t know or care. Because if he’d really cared for her, he’d have said something to shut them up. Even if he’d just told them to quit it. But he hadn’t. He’d laughed. And joined in.

  “Oh, babe. What an immature douche,” Logan pulled her close, wrapping his arms around hers. “How to hit where you’re vulnerable.”

  “It shouldn’t matter, but it did.” She’d been insecure enough anyway. To finally try to come out of her shell and then to hear all that?”

  “So you broke up with him?”

  “Not r-r-right away. I tried... to act more experienced. Better.”

  “In bed?” Logan looked shocked, then angered. “You thought you had to—”

  “But then I found out he was b-banging another girl anyway.” She interrupted, blinking back sudden silly tears. “I walked into a party and found them in a room. He said he’d made a mistake. That he was too young to be settling. That the ring was the only way he could get m-me to spread my legs.”

  He’d made her feel like such a fool. To have fallen for him—to have believed him, trusted him...

  “Totally immature,” Logan said grimly. “Total fuck head.”

  She’d never thought she’d be engaged for less than a month. But here she was, about to be engaged for less than a week.

  What a track record.

  Logan breathed in deeply. “So that’s why you’re silent when we’re having sex?”

  She nodded. “I’ve lived all my life with my stutter and it’s so much better than it was. I go for days now, with hardly anything,” she whispered. “But it f-flares up sometimes when I least expect it. When I... get nervous or whatever. Because I start thinking about it maybe. But I don’t want to be embarrassed like that. Not at that moment.” She knew it was stupid, but she just didn’t want to go there.

  He turned a serious expression towards her. “I would never laugh at you. Not that way.”

  She didn’t want him to see her like that. She knew he wanted her to be unconstrained but she wasn’t going to compete with the wannabe pornstars. “I still really like it, you know I d-do...” she felt the blush beating into her cheeks.

  He smiled at her, then that teasing gleam lit his eyes. “Does it matter so much what I think?”

  How did she answer that? Because it mattered a lot.

  “It’s only me.” He shrugged. “I’m just the jerk who’s forced you into a fake engagement and who you’re having sex with for the fun of it. It wouldn’t really matter, would it? No one else would ever know. I would never tease you.”

  On one level what he was saying made sense. It shouldn’t matter. But it did. And now, stupidly, the fact that he’d said it wouldn’t matter only made her hurt. It might be only for the fun of it, but she cared about what he thought of her. Too much.

  “If you’re staying in control enough to stay silent,” he shook his head. “You’re not really letting go. You’re not really letting it wash over you.”

  “I’m letting g-go,” she argued.

  He looked skeptical. “Not all the way.”

  “Yes all the way.”

  Silent, he looked at her. Thinking. “I don’t need words. But I won’t settle for silence. Not every time. It’s not right,” he said. “And you know I love your Marilyn voice.”

  “That takes more effort than silence,” she breathed, trying to make him understand. “I have to concentrate on each word. I don’t want to have to concentrate on anything other than how I’m f-feeling.”

  He looked at her soberly. “You’ve never been with anyone but him, have you? Not ‘til me.”

  She didn’t bother to answer. He knew he was right. He just cursed beneath his breath.

  “You... d-don’t regret it?” she asked, feeling small and inexperienced and stupid. And hating it.

  “God no. No. Never.” He suddenly smiled and tugged her closer again. His eyes lit up, the rogue element emerged. “You know everyone stutters during sex.”

  She nudged him hard with her shoulder.

  “I’m serious. They do. Oh, oh, oh. Oh y-y-yeah, YEAH!” He groaned in mock orgasmic relief.

  “Sshhhhhh.” She elbowed him this time and slapped her hand over her mouth to stop her sudden giggle. They so weren’t having a reverse When Harry Met Sally moment in the plane.

  “Nobody talks properly in bed,” he continued. “That’s kinda not the point.”

  “You’re n-not taking this seriously.”

  “Sure I am. I’m taking this very seriously. You don’t like to give up your self-control.”

  “Yeah, well... you don’t like to have any self-control.”

  “Opposites attract.” He winked.

  She looked at him and ruefully shook her head. “I never should have told you.”

  That totally sobered him up. “Of course you should. You can tell me anything. You know I’m never going to judge.”

  “But all I’ve d-d-done is set you another challenge.”

  Logan rested his head on the padded seat, cuddling Min as she dozed through the flight. She was right, he did take what she’d said as a challenge.

  Not just for him, but for her too. He wanted her to feel nothing but confidence, because she ought to enjoy everything her body was built for. With no doubts, no self-consciousness. She was beautiful.

  Now he knew what was holding her back. Now he just had to figure out how to help her. Because he wanted her to be free. And he wanted her to find that freedom with him.

  He kissed her to wake her, just before the plane began its descent. He couldn’t get enough of kissing her. A river of delight flowed through him at the thought of being with her for hours and hours. That would be the key. They needed to be utterly alone. Free from the burden of the weekend, they could play, explore, talk, laugh.

  Finally alone. No hidden agenda. No game. They could explore whatever this was.

  As they sat in the back of the taxi taking them to his apartment, he thought about what she’d said, absently tracing circles on the palm of her hand.

  “I can see you plotting,
” she suddenly curled her fingers up to stop him.

  He chuckled.

  “Seriously. You get this wicked gleam in your eyes.”

  He placed his other hand over hers, capturing her fist. “Does it frighten you?”

  “No,” she said. “But I’m going to disappoint you.”

  “Never.” Never ever.

  “We’re going away again?” Min turned to Logan as he placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table next to the bed. “We only g-got back last night.”

  And she’d only just had more than two consecutive hours sleep. They’d gone straight to bed the second they’d got back to his apartment. And shouldn’t they be working out their separation plan?

  “Yeah, but this is important.” He danced two fingers along her shoulder, and then sat, leaning in close to kiss her.

  She wrapped her arms round his neck to keep him close, wriggling as his hands skated south. “More important than catching up on sleep?”

  She leaned back, tugging him down with her.

  How she could possibly be turned on again when they’d had sex four times though the night and she’d come even more? She ought to be sore and needing space, not more of this hot, sweaty challenge. Instead she snuggled closer, unable to resist rocking her hips into his again and feeling the length of him harden.

  She shoved all thoughts of their broken engagement out of her head.

  New rule. She was taking it while she could.

  “No,” he laughed, and ducked out of her embrace. “An overnight bag is all you need.”

  “I’m not going to need a party dress am I?” She mock shuddered.

  “You’re not really going to need any clothes at all.”

  Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that.

  It was still dark as they took a cab to a downtown heliport. Min glanced questioningly at him, but he just laughed and said nothing. The pilot said nothing either. She figured it was a conspiracy. But she didn’t mind. She wasn’t thinking beyond the moment anymore.

  Snuggled against him, she looked out the window at the amazing view of dawn breaking over the city and then the coastline as the whirlybird flew high and fast.

  Fifty minutes later they landed at East Hampton airport. Logan led her to a silver sedan parked in the nearby parking lot.

  “I’ve never been here.” Min clicked her safety belt, her blood fizzing. “That coastline is spectacular.”

  “You wait, it’s even more beautiful in summer. Less crowded this time of year.”

  Wait? She wasn’t going to be here with him in summer.

  He held the steering wheel with one hand, her hand with the other—so natural and easy.

  Don’t read anything into it.

  He was just incredibly tactile with none of the usual respect for personal space. He liked warmth. That was all. But she liked it too. Too much.

  Twenty-five minutes later, he turned down a driveway. Min drew breath as the building came into view.

  It was a holiday home. Not the minimalist design of his Manhattan apartment, nor the total over-the-top extravagance of the lodge at Summerhill. This one was a wooden beach house.

  So damn dreamy she gasped. “You own this?”

  “Investment property,” he said casually. “And I can stay here when I feel like it.”

  “Which is often?” If it were hers, she’d be here all the time.

  “Not as often as I should.” He grabbed their two carry-bags, slung his other arm along her shoulder and took her round the front of the house—the beach side and unlocked the door. “The pool’s heated and there’s a hot tub if you’d like to skinny dip.”

  Yeah, she’d like, but it was Logan who loved the full body on slow burn temps. He’d clearly phoned ahead because someone had turned the aircon thermostat up. She chuckled as she slipped her jacket off and walked into the main living area.

  Of all the amazing properties she’d seen, she loved this the best. The interior more than matched the picture postcard perfection of the outside, with it’s pretty wallpaper and wooden furniture and comfortable rugs and wall of books. And as for that view over the water? “It’s gorgeous.”

  He dropped their bags. “So are you.” He walked towards her, purpose inherent in every step.

  She smiled at him, caution tossed to the wind. What would another day matter?

  “Something you need to know.” His voice lowered. “No one can hear us here. The houses either side aren’t occupied tonight. I checked before we got here. You can’t see them anyway. We’re alone.”

  “Okay, no neighbors.” She placed her hand over her heart and sent him an overly wide-eyed look. “Should I be worried?”

  He laughed. “No. But I know how hung up you are.”

  “In what way?” she bridled.

  “Here you can scream as loud as you like.” He placed his hands on her waist, holding her so she couldn’t step away. “There’s no need to be self-conscious. Not with me.”

  “Is this about my sexual soundtrack? Really?” Oh no. She didn’t want this—to feel like she was going to have to perform for him. She’d thought it was all working well... that they were both satisfied.

  “Yes, really. You want all of me? Well I want all of you too. Everything. Nothing held back.”

  He meant physically, right? He was all about the release and the carnal satisfaction.

  “You were listening to me on the plane, right?” she whispered. She didn’t want this. It would be like some kind of test. And she was going to fail.

  “Stop panicking.” His hands tightened on her waist. “You don’t need to worry. Do you know what I’m going to do?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m going to gag you.”

  “W-w-what?”

  He reached into his back pocket and a second later held up a... thing.

  “What the hell is that?” She stared at it.

  “It’s a ball gag.”

  “A...” She drew breath, trying to calm her chaotic pulse. “I thought... we were a ‘no’ to sex toys.”

  “The rules are lifted Min, we both won, remember? This isn’t a game anymore.”

  Wasn’t it? “Yet you have a ball gag?”

  “Got one of the guys to get it for me from the twenty-four hour sex shop. It’s my first time, but I think I can figure it out,” he winked.

  “You’re not making me feel any better,” she said. “Why?”

  “It’s soft, won’t hurt your mouth whereas rope or tape would—and I’m not hurting you. You can breathe, you can still make sounds. But I am going to gag you.” He ran his hand the length of her braid, and pulled the elastic from the end. “The point is, you won’t be able to speak even if you try. So you don’t have to try. And you don’t have to hold yourself back because even if you want to say something, I’ll not be able to understand you anyway.”

  “How is that different to what my life is already like?” she asked wryly. “Sometimes I want to speak, and I still can’t.”

  “The difference is you don’t even have to think about it anymore. The option’s been taken away from you. It’s just gone. Forget about it,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You can just lose yourself. Lie back and let go.”

  Heat poured through her. But she couldn’t quite accept this. “You’re kid—”

  “No joke.” He reached and untwisted her braid slowly. “And, given the blush you’ve got going, I’m thinking you’re rapidly adjusting to the idea.”

  Oh she was. She was excited and a little scared and a lot aroused. And her stupid heart was just bursting.

  “I have never met anyone as naughty as you,” she whispered.

  As totally outrageous and spontaneous and crazy. And fun. And weirdly thoughtful.

  “You bring me here, where no one can hear. And now you’re going to gag me.”

  “Well, you can still scream.” He smiled. “Shall we try it?”

  She looked again at the ugly black ball and strap contraption
he’d put into her hand. “I’ll end up drooling. Can’t we use a cloth?”

  “If you’d prefer, sure. I brought a couple of those too. We could always use a combination.”

  She trembled.

  “The thing is.” He pressed her close against him, soothing the shivers by rubbing her spine. “I want you no matter what, understand? No come-face you pull is going to be ugly to me. The redder your cheeks the better. The sweatier, wetter... I can’t get enough of you. I want to see you, want to hear you, in all ways, utterly intimate. No matter how broken up, I’ll still want you.”

  She swallowed.

  “Are you g-going to be gagged too?” Seemed only fair to her.

  He shook his head, amusement sparking. “I want to use my mouth on you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Good point, she wouldn’t be able to kiss him.

  “You still have your hands, your eyes,” he said softly. “And all of your skin.”

  “So you’re not going to tie me up along with the gagging?” she whispered.

  He leaned back and cocked his head to see her eyes. “Did you want me to?”

  She wanted to be able to touch him and yet there was something about the absolute freedom in being unable to pull back.

  “Why don’t we just see how we go,” he murmured huskily.

  He tilted her chin and kissed her. More of those damn teasing, feathering kisses.

  “You have such a beautiful mouth,” he muttered.

  He did seem to have developed a fixation. “But you’ve never gagged another woman?” she asked.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You know I won’t hurt you.”

  Not physically. He understood too well what she liked, what she wanted and needed.

  “But,” he stepped back. You do need some way to let me know if you want me to stop what I’m doing.” He studied her.

  “How ‘bout I knee you in the b-b-balls?”

  “That’s my girl.” He laughed, his hands suddenly stroking firmer. “That’d be perfect.”

  He looked at her mouth a moment, then pressed close and French kissed the life out of her. His tongue circled gently, stroking the inside of her cheeks, her lips, the roof of her mouth. He held her still and sucked her lip, caressing. Making love to her mouth.