by Nicole Fox
“I’m trying to patch things up with Nikk, but it all feels empty.” The word seemed to explain everything she had felt since she walked in on the two of them having sex. Although the void had temporarily been filled with the anger, desire for vengeance, or despair at points, the fact was that Davis had left a hole in her. A hole she’d been desperately trying to fill. But Davis was the only thing that seemed to be the right-shaped puzzle piece to put her life back together.
Francesca got up from her seat, her feet carrying her back and forth over the white tile of the kitchen floor. Logan watched her every step, a bird of prey waiting for his chance to swoop in and make the kill. “I have to think about the family and the TV show and my store. And Davis is the best person to fill the void. He is what we need — ”
Francesca didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Logan finally lost interest in listening, rushing forward to capture her in his massive arms. She cried out in surprise as she collapsed under his sudden weight. She ended up on the loveseat next to the TV, Logan positioned above her. The position reminded her very poignantly of the dream she’d woken up from that morning, and her heart stopped in her chest, her body reacting immediately from his bruising touch.
“Do you love Davis or not?” Logan asked, pinning her to the couch.
“Let me up,” Francesca snapped, her temper flaring just as quickly as her lust. “Now.”
A snort of frustration. “Just answer the question.”
“I don’t know! Now let me up!” Francesca squirmed, trying to break free of his impossible hold.
Before she could say anything else, Logan had pressed his mouth to hers, leaving no room for words. His mouth was searing hot and lit every inch of her body on fire. Hyper aware of every place their bodies touched, Francesca moaned like a porn star into his mouth, her body craving his like an addict.
Eyes boiling with passion, Logan pulled back to stare down at her, holding her wrists in place. His breath was hurried like he’d run a race. Francesca felt the same, her heart banging hard against her ribcage. “When will you ever just forget what is best for your show, your family, or your public and worry about what’s best for you, Francesca?”
And she melted when he said her name. Logan was the most beautiful thing in the world, and right then, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Twelve
Logan
Fuck.
Logan was pinning the most beautiful creature in the world to the couch, and his body had some very clear ideas where this should go next. Those beautiful, green, bedroom eyes glittered up at him like a promise. Logan no longer seemed in control of his own body as he bent forward again, his mouth finding hers as though drawn there by gravity.
This kiss was far gentler, questioning. The warm, beautiful body underneath his arched up to meet him, her breasts brushing against his chest. It almost sent him over the edge; he nearly growled as he buried his face against her neck, nibbling, kissing, and teasing the hot skin he found underneath her perfect, blonde hair.
She squirmed underneath him, little pornographic noises slipping from her throat over and over again, egging him on.
Before he even realized he was drowning, he was in too deep to swim to the surface. Never in his life had he ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Francesca. The desire for her body, for all of her, seemed to go deeper than his need for food, water, or air. At least at the moment. “How had she caught me so easily, so fast?”
Francesca managed to wrestle her wrists free, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down on top of her body. Her legs she wrapped closer, pulling him like she could no longer live without him closer. Warm hands slid under the fabric of his t-shirt, caressing every dip and curve of his stomach. Logan growled again, this time into her mouth, and the noise seemed to drive her harder.
They were kissing harder now, hands feverishly exploring each other’s bodies. Logan ran his fingers reverently over every inch of her neck and shoulders, his touch trickling down her arms to her torso. The cinnamon scent of her filled him with a desire so keen it was painful, slicing deep into his self-control.
This was a mistake, and they both knew it, but nothing seemed to be able to stop them.
She cried out in pleasure as his fingers brushed over the curve of her breast, the electricity between them bringing sensations like neither had ever felt. His lips slid down her neck to her collarbones, tracing the long line of her shoulder around to the curve of her arm. Feeling her hands explore his body in turn was driving him crazy, and his erection strained almost painfully toward her.
Logan had never wanted anything in the world like he wanted Francesca.
“Please, Logan,” Francesca begged, her voice ragged with something deeper than lust. “Touch me.”
Logan decided he liked it a lot when she begged. Without hesitation, his hands slid under her shirt of their own volition, his strong hands running along the soft, hot skin of her belly. Caressing every inch of skin, Logan pulled the little sweater she wore up and over her breasts, then off completely. She lay before him, her mouth swollen from kisses, and her eyes dark with desire. Logan’s eyes drank her in.
Suddenly, he dove forward, pressing his mouth against her body, finding the sharp curve of her collarbone again, then dipping lower. He found the lacy, silky edges of her bra, teasing the curves of her with lips and tongue as she moaned underneath him. She ground her hips against his, each movement driving Logan forward.
They managed to pull each other out of most of their clothing, leaving almost nothing between them but a few, thin scraps of fabric. Francesca closed her beautiful green eyes, her perfect lips parting as she threw her head back, her body melding to his. She moaned his name, content to writhe against his skin. Logan tumbled her to the white carpet, groaning as he unclasped her bra, letting those perfect breasts free. They were beautiful, the little dusty pink nipples as hard as glass.
Logan ran the tip of his tongue over the hardened skin. Francesca gasped, her fingernails digging into the tattooed flesh of his shoulders, her eyes still closed, her head still thrown back. Writhing on the carpet below him, Francesca continued to make sexy little noises in the back of her throat as he continued to kiss her breast, nibbling carefully on the delicate skin just to watch her thrash under him.
She wiggled out from under him, slippery as a cat, grinning wickedly. Logan rolled over, watching as the newly freed Francesca ran her eyes over every inch of his body, her gaze tracing the outlines of every one of his tattoos. The lust in her eyes filled him with heat, his cock standing at attention. Her eyes slid down his body to it, pink tongue darting across her perfect lips before she crawled back to him.
Logan nearly came right then as the most beautiful woman in the world pulled his shorts down to expose his cock, and swallowed it whole. Colors burst across his vision as she alternately sucked and swallowed him, her hot, wet tongue swirling over the head of him. He grabbed hard onto the couch behind him as that clever tongue massaged the length of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he gasped. The world had narrowed down to the feel of Francesca’s mouth on his dick, and he’d never ever felt anything like it in his life.
She brought him to the very edge before letting up, grinning at him before she crawled closer to lay a sloppy kiss on his parted lips. Francesca’s tongue slipped between his lips, that clever tongue that had nearly undone him.
Logan slid his hands down over her body, finding her hips and massaging them hard with his hands. Francesca moaned into his mouth, but he wanted to watch her writhe. He wanted her to cry out his name over and over again in pleasure, and he was going to do whatever he had to see that fantasy come to life.
Fingers exploring, Logan found a spot she liked to be touched pretty quickly. Her pussy was dripping wet already, slick with the juices he was dying to taste. He would find every place she wanted to be kissed, to be touched, and make her cum again and again.
He wanted Francesca to be completely his if only for
one, long night.
# # #
Logan
Francesca screamed Logan’s name again, heedless of neighbors or anything else. She wanted this moment to never end. As Logan slid his thumb inside of her, his tongue found the hot, boiling center of her, caressing all of the right places to make her writhe with pleasure. No one had ever touched her so expertly in her whole life. Sex with Davis had never been like this; Francesca could feel Logan’s desire to please her over and over again, and she found herself begging for every touch and caress that would get her there.
His mouth worked over her, licking, sucking, and tasting every inch of her dripping pussy, ferreting out her favorite places so he could exploit them. Slipping his thumb inside her again, he massaged and teased as his mouth explored her throbbing womanhood.
Biting her lip, Francesca grabbed a hold of Logan’s head. Her nails scratched gently against his scalp to pull him closer to her, to press his hot, wet mouth harder against her clit again and again. Unable to keep still, Francesca rolled her hips against his tongue, aching to be closer, harder, faster. “Oh, Logan, right there. Yes, yes, yes!” She was crying out, her hips undulating against his questing mouth hard and fast. She could feel herself right at the edge of an orgasm she was pretty sure she would never recover from. Her whole body shook with its coming, a tidal wave that started in the base of her spine and spread out like a gas fire from the center of her being out to the edges of her being.
She screamed something, his name or some profanity probably, as that wave crested over her, crashing hard into her body. Her climax shook the whole damned world, and she screamed again, the aftershocks of the pleasure slamming into her repeatedly. Time disappeared in a torrential downpour of physical sensation, curling her toes and filling her emerald eyes with tears.
It took a solid minute for her to come down enough to speak again. “Fuck,” she whispered, her whole body covered with a thin sheen of sweat and the thick scent of sex. Every place Logan had touched burned, like he’d put his fingerprints in lava all over her skin.
“Such language from a lady,” Logan said. He was sitting on carpet on his knees, Francesca straddling his lap and leaning back against the sofa.
“You’ve been a terrible influence,” she gasped in reply as Logan’s questing cock found her dripping wet entrance. He’d found a condom somewhere in the house, and had somehow slid it on while she wasn’t paying attention. “Good thing too; I’m so far gone, I’m not sure I would have remembered.”
But all of her thoughts dissolved again as soon as the head of him entered her too-tight entrance, still vibrating with the massive earthquake that had just rocked it. Logan’s huge member cut Francesca in two, stretching her out in a mix of pleasure and pain that felt like heaven.
“All the way in!” she demanded, her voice rough from all of her screaming. “Fuck me now, Logan!” Clawing at his back, Francesca tried to force the whole of him inside of her, but Logan wouldn’t be rushed.
Much to her delight and despair, he took a long time sliding his dick inside of her body as she fought to thrust hard against him. But once he was inside, Francesca threw back her head in delight. He was perfect, the length of him caressing all of the places she wanted to feel him without being too big. It was like he was built for her, the width of him filling her up until it was just the perfect amount of pained pleasure.
Deliberately taking each of her tiny wrists in his massive, masculine hands, Logan pinned her to the couch. With eyes that were so feral they were barely human staring her down, he pulled out, then slammed into her body like a freight train. The rhythm he set made her whole body scream in pleasure, and she fucked him back, hard. Hips gyrating to the tune of his music, Francesca mewled in time with his thrusts, demanding more and more, harder and deeper into her body.
Roughly, Logan picked her up and tossed her onto the couch on her stomach, a heavy hand in the middle of her back, holding her down as he thrust into her dripping pussy from behind. The new angle almost shattered her again, the pleasure from the feel of him inside of her dragging her to the edge of climax. It was building so high and fast that she knew this orgasm would drown her.
He was so powerful, so strong, his cock like a jackhammer inside of her, caressing all of the right places as he plowed her again and again.
When she came the second time, she saw stars, the whole world disappearing behind a gossamer curtain of pleasure. She felt him fall over the edge a moment later, a shout of her name, then a shivering stillness. It took a long time for them to come down off of their high, Francesca’s whole body quivering with remembered, shared pleasure.
“Was it good for you?” she whispered, her breath coming in gasps that made her breasts heave against the scratchy fabric of the couch. It was too much; the nerves in every inch of her body were overrun. This little brush was enough to make her cry out, gasping with the rough feel against her skin.
“God, yes,” he answered, his voice a mere gasp in his throat.
Feeling pretty good about that response, Francesca pushed herself to her wobbling feet. Her knees looked like sandpaper; how long had they been pressed against the carpet?
Logan looked up at her, shivering a little as the sweat cooled on his beautiful, muscled body. God, he was perfect.
“So, that thing you did with your mouth?” Francesca asked, her smile turning wicked.
Logan chuckled. “Yes?”
“I would like another demonstration, if you have a mind.” Her heart thundered in her chest; she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if he said no. She couldn’t live another moment without feeling his mouth pressed against her again, even as her body throbbed hard with remembered passion.
The grin he gave her was equally wicked, sending delighted shivers along every part of her body. “I think my mouth would like that very much.” He got to his feet, picking Francesca up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Let’s find a bed, so I can show you some more things I can do that you’ll like.”
They didn’t make it all the way up the stairs the first time, but after a few hours, they finally managed to find Francesca’s bedroom. Neither of them got much sleep that night, much to their mutual delight.
Chapter Thirteen
Logan
Waking up was difficult. Logan wanted to hold onto that wonderful, sexy dream where he’d had Francesca on her living room floor for a little longer. Once he opened his eyes, the dream would start to fade around the edges and reality would take back over.
For now, he wanted to remember everything about that dream and not think of anything else.
But after a long moment of trying to keep the dream in his grasp, he had an odd thought. “The light is wrong.” And it was true; the light from his bedroom in Francesca’s home usually came from the other side, assaulting his left side with the too-bright desert sun.
Conclusion: Logan wasn’t in his room.
Chocolate eyes, swollen with sleep and red with lack of it, opened reluctantly. A mix of dread and delight filled his belly as he looked around, realizing that he was sleeping in Francesca’s room. “I’m also naked.”
Fuck. Last night wasn’t a dream.
The overwhelming desire to stay with Francesca hadn’t abated either, and that wasn’t a good thing. Pulling back the piles of sheets, blankets, and pillows, Logan got out of the bed and glanced around for his clothing. He didn’t really want to walk through the house naked, but it looked like Francesca hadn’t left him much choice. He took a deep breath and walked out into the hallway.
Lucky for him, no one was there. Francesca wasn’t even around, which filled him with all sorts of mixed emotions he refused to sort through.
So he showered, returned to “his” room, and dressed before heading down the stairs. He wanted to see Francesca again, see what it is that she thought of their exploits the night before.
But as he started down the stairs, he heard voices. One was definitely Francesca’s and the other was distorted by the speaker phone
of Francesca’s cell, Logan couldn’t even properly identify the gender of the person speaking. He shuffled the rest of the way down the stairs, his eyes automatically searching for Francesca.
As usual, he found her in her kitchen, brewing coffee. Sometimes she didn’t even drink whatever she made; Francesca simply really seemed to love the scent of coffee. “I should buy her a coffee-scented candle so she stops wasting perfectly good brew.”
Francesca’s glittering, emerald eyes met his, and her mouth shifted into a shy smile as Logan came into the kitchen. Without a sound, he grabbed a mug from the counter and poured himself some coffee, inhaling the sweet fumes before taking a big, burning sip of it.
“Yes, Mother, I told you. We’re going to Gala as a couple. It will work; I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t think you being seen in public, proclaiming that some nobody is your new boyfriend will do anything for your standing in society, Kitten,” said the scratchy, distorted voice from the other side of the phone.