by Dakota Lee
Pushing her on the bed, I lick her until she comes, then lick her clean and do it again. Using the lube to coat my fingers, I prime her for what comes next. I take my time stretching her out. Past the point where she’s accepted two fingers. Then three. Adding extra lube to the condom on my cock, I slowly inch inside her, feeling her stiffen against me.
“Almost there baby. Just relax a little more.” She’s panting now, and I ghost my finger across her clit. “I’m gonna make this feel good. I promise.”
She rocks against my hand, as I push a finger inside her slick heat. “That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand, while I fuck this ass.”
I go as slow as I can until she’s thrusting her whole body against me. Releasing the gag, I lean over to kiss her.
“Oh god,” She groans.
“You like that, baby? You like me finally taking this hole? Fuck, I didn’t think anything would feel as good as your pussy or your mouth. This ranks right up there.”
“Logan!”
“Fuck, Jordy. Fuck.”
It’s too much, too intense. I can’t believe that she’s given another part of herself to me. “Fuuuck!” I growl, shooting off when she clamps around my fingers and clenches her ass around my cock. I collapse on top of her, completely wrecked. I pull out slowly, mindful that she’s probably sore, and discard the condom. Fetching a warm cloth, I return to the bedroom and clean her off before slipping into bed beside her.
* * *
The feel of her mouth on me pulls me awake. “Baby, what are you doing?” How long has she been sucking me off? I feel like I’m close already. Her hand drifts to my ass, and I realize what she’s about to do. Grabbing her arms, I pull her up the length of my body. “I told you, that’s not happening.”
“You did me.” She kisses me, sliding her pussy along my length. “Now I wanna do you.”
“Doing me, means riding my cock. Up you go.” I sheath myself and slip inside her, distracting her from her request. I’ll cross a lot of lines, but I’ll never let anyone play with my ass.
Thirty-Six
Jordanna
Logan’s at his desk putting the finishing touches on his article and has convinced me to wait around for him. I’ve been passing the time by looking into Kenneth Ruttledge’s land dispute but there’s not much to go on. I wonder if Kingsley Hollow’s favorite son knows something of his past.
“Logan.”
“Hmm?”
“What do you know about the Ruttledges?”
“They own about thirty percent of the commercial properties in Kingsley Hollow and Bluffs, and make their money in real estate.” He says without looking up.
“What about the land the properties sit on?”
“They purchase some, lease others, and then there are the imminent domain parcels.” He finally looks at me. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason, really. We rent our home and I heard my mom mention the property manager works for them.”
“They have a few residential buildings too. At one point they were looking to buy the block where my studio is. I’m not sure why that fell through though.”
“And what about the land dispute between Kenneth Ruttledge and his neighbor? Know anything about that?”
Sitting back in his chair, he tells me, “There was no dispute. Back then the lands weren’t precisely marked and they both claimed the water belonged to them. After a surveyor came out and re-marked the boundary it proved Kenneth had a claim to another half acre of land. A few years later, the neighbor sold his land and moved away.”
He’s studying me and my response to his answer. “Seriously. What’s with the sudden interest in the history of the town?”
“I’m living here and no matter how much I ask my mom to leave, she won’t, so I might as well learn the things you did growing up.” I shrug as if this is just a casual conversation. “I don’t have a connection to this place. I figured starting with facts might help me build one, and then maybe…”
“Maybe, what?”
“Maybe everyone won’t see me as an outsider if I learn to love it here as much as you do.”
“I think that’s a great idea. I’ll help you get caught up to speed with tons of late night study sessions. We can get started as soon as I’m done here.” His heated gaze says studying is the furthest thing from his mind.
I crack an eye open when the shrill sound of my phone rings from somewhere on the left. I’ve been going non stop for a week. First Veronica needed me to work extra hours, then I covered the recruiting convention in town for the paper, and the grand finale was me going home for Summer’s basketball banquet. Logan’s been a huge help, driving me around and making sure I remember to eat. True boyfriend material. We came back to my dorm room late last night after working in his studio, and crashed.
His hand flays around, searching for my phone to shut it off. It chimes again, alerting me I have a text. He find it and holds it up, showing me it’s a message from my mom.
“Three missed calls. You gonna call her back?”
“Yeah, later. She’s probably just calling to find out if I’m coming home for spring break.” I focus on the numbers illuminated on the screen. “Is that the time?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Shit, I’m gonna be late for class!” I climb over him, dashing towards the bathroom.
“About spring break. What are your plans?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Bella’s probably going home, or on a cruise. She basically does the same thing every year. Hal, and Tabitha are planning to go to Daytona and I’m not sure about Frankie. It’ll be pretty dead around here.”
The unused bedroom phone rings while I’m brushing my teeth. Logan answers it with a distracted, “Hello.”
The call for me to come to the phone never happens. I open the bathroom door, peeking my head out, I ask, “Who was on the phone?" The envelope in his hand has his attention. "Logan. Who was on the phone?” I cock my hip against the door-jamb waiting for him to answer.
"I don't know. Somebody who obviously didn't wanna talk to me."
He's using that tone he has when he's detaching himself from the moment. I step forward and run my fingers through his hair. “Don’t,” he says leaning away from my touch.
I back off, giving him space. "What did I do?"
"What did you do, Jordy?" He stares at me, waiting for some type of confession. Okay, I’m not about to do this. Huffing, I head to my closet, looking for something to wear. "I'm late for class, and I don't have time for whatever mood swing you're sliding into this morning, Logan."
“If you ask me, you don't have time for a lot of things lately.”
I turn to face him. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means I tried to make excuses for you, but I can’t anymore. You’re different since you came back to school. Hanging out with grad students you avoided before, you barely spend time with Kassidy, and I don't know the last time I saw you painting or sketching outside of a class assignment. We barely talk about anything real happening in our lives. You’re impulsive, and rude for no reason, aggressive and secretive, and suddenly there’s nothing you won’t do in bed. You let me defile you in ways I never thought you would and I don’t know how you feel about any of it. Are you into it Jordy? Are you into me?”
“I haven’t changed.”
“Really? Because the girl I fell for let me inside her body and her mind. That girl communicated her limits. But now, it's like I don't even know who you are anymore.” He swallows thickly, and says, “I don't know who I'm making love to anymore.”
He slips his shirt over his head and shoves his feet into his shoes. “I told you I was done with the game, so if this is your way of making me prove myself to you. Some type of competition while you decide if you really wanna be with me. I don't wanna compete.”
He slams the phone and card on the desk and storms off. It’s the card that came with the bouquet of flowers wishing me a great school year, and it’s sitti
ng on top of the notes that come with the Monday addition of the paper. The ones I thought were from him.
Logan
What started as a lazy morning where I planned to slow stroke Jordanna awake, ended with a fight. She did a crappy job of hiding those sappy ass notes, and I know it had to be Noel on the other end of the line. I gotta hand it to him, he’s persistent, and if I was a girl; I might fall for that shit too.
Jordanna walked right by me today. Actually, that’s not true. I walked by her, still too pissed to talk about what happened. I’m tired of all the back and forth and feeling like I’m the only one fighting for us. Last semester I knew exactly where I stood with her every step of the way. Now, outside of bed, I’m not even sure what we’re doing and who we are to each other.
As much as I want to say this is all on her, I know it’s not. I fucked things up last semester. I’ve been trying to make amends, and maybe I haven’t said it enough, but fuck, I love her. I’m even making an effort to be friends with that dipshit for her. I’m not sure what more I can do.
I look down at my hands, and punch the clay I’m holding into another ball. I’ve restarted this bowl five times already. I’m not getting any work done while my mind is on this shit. Turning off the wheel, I wipe my hands, grab my smock and head to the roof. The only thing that will help the mood I’m in, is to bang shit. And since it can’t be Jordanna, the hunk of stone I have up there will have to do.
With every hit of my chisel and mallet, I think over what’s happened between us. She’s changed, but is it for the better or worst? I love that she’s stepping out of her comfort zone and willing to try things I like. I think that’s part of the reason I’m in deeper than I was before. But what does she like? Is it me holding nothing back, or are the sweet cards and cutesy notes what she really wants? Am I just scratching an itch like she says, and she’s emotionally involved with him?
I don’t want half of her. I don’t want to be the person she gives her body to while her heart belongs to someone else. Have I enjoyed that type of arrangement before? Hell yes, but that’s not what my relationship with Jordanna is supposed to be like. We’re a couple. We’re supposed to be in love.
A stress line appears in the marble, and I continue to chip at it until it finally breaks free. Cranking up my radio, I take a sip of my beer and commit to getting at least one section of this new sculpture done before heading home to see the littles.
Thirty-Seven
Jordanna
I went home to watch Summer’s game and missed the last bus to campus. I don’t wanna impose on Pepper by asking her to send a car, and it’s gonna be hell getting a cab this time of the night. I’m exhausted and ready to get to bed, but I don’t wanna trouble mom by asking her to drive me back to school tomorrow.
Logan’s been distant since finding those notes and I haven’t been able to think of anything to say to explain what’s going on with me. I can’t explain what’s going on with me. But I can’t have him shutting me out, either. Not yet. My plan hinges on having his trust. I need an opening to try to smooth things over with him. No time like the present to test what he said about not leaving me stranded.
I send a text letting him know what happened. I’m shocked when he shows up fifteen minutes later, and we ride the hour back to campus in silence. The strain between us is palpable. It’s hard to tell if this is a game he’s playing, or if he’s really upset. Regardless of the answer, I need to fix things between us.
When we pull in front of my dorm, I climb out the car, keeping my gaze fixed on the building in front of me while I try to apologize. “Logan, I know I’ve been distant and acting strange. It’s just that it’s hard for me to open up to you again. You say things are different this time and that you’re trying. Well, Logan, I’m trying too. I never expected to get involved with you again and it’s messing with my opinion of myself. I mean what girl reunites with the guy who intentionally bullied and mistreated her, unless she’s a fool or a glutton for punishment?”
He places my bags on the curb and closes the trunk.
“You know, I had a different plan for this semester. But I’m here. And I’ve been really, really confused, trying to adjust. I’m trying to embrace these feelings you bring out of me. The passion, the lust, the… the dark desires that I didn’t know were there.”
His walks ahead of me to the elevator and on the ride to my floor and the walk down the hall to my room, he still says nothing. He sets the bags just inside the door to my bedroom, then turns abruptly, heading back to the common area. “Logan, I don’t mean to push you away. I don’t wanna push you away. I want to be with you, and it scares me how much. I just need a little more time to figure things out.”
I turn towards my room. Before I can move inside, he scoops me in his arms. He’s holding me. Kissing me. With the same amount of worry, confusion, and fear I feel. The heel of his sneak kicks the door closed with a bang. If Kassidy’s home, she’s surely heard it, along with my lamp crashing to the floor, when Logan pushes me against my desk.
“Please, don’t give up on me.” I whisper against his lips.
“Never.”
The lights on my phone flash beside me. I answer it, flicking my hair dryer off with one hand. “Hello?”
“Uh, this is Preston Hernandez. I had a message asking me to call this number. Someone named Jordan.”
“Jordanna. Yes, that’s me. Thanks so much for getting back to me.”
“Your message said you were looking for information on William Ernest Cloutier.”
“Yes. I am. I should have explained better, but there was only so much time to leave a message. I’m a student at Van der Borne University, and I’m doing a research paper on prosperous businesses in New York in the late eighteen and early nineteen hundreds. I came across two names, Cole Elcor and William Cloutier. They had a jewelry company at one time, but there’s hardly any records about it, so I’ve been researching the names themselves. Your name came up as a possible associate of Thomas Ernest Cloutier. I see you’re in Dubai, so I’m not sure why your name is listed. Still, I wanted to make sure I actually ruled you out as a known associate.”
“I wouldn’t do that just yet, Jordanna.”
“Are you saying you know Thomas?”
“During my first deployment, we lived in an apartment building in San Diego. My wife spent a lot of time with our neighbor and her grandmother while I was away. The old lady liked to talk about the town her family was from. I think they owned the building William’s shop was in and they eventually sold it to Thomas. We used the granddaughter as a reference when we brought our first home, so that might be why my name popped up on your search.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a name for that neighbor, and the town she was from, would you?”
“I do, but I don’t know how much good the address will do you. The family moved to Europe right around the time I got back from my second deployment.”
I secure the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Meridian Falls?” I repeat, writing down the name of the city.
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“And the family?”
“Shaw.”
Logan
Jordanna and I are still trying to find our rhythm and I know part of her hesitancy to go all in, stems from her distrust of my friends. I can’t expect to build that trust, if I continue to keep them apart. She’s forgiven me, and I know she has the capacity to forgive them, too. It’s up to me to create opportunities for that to happen.
Spring break is in a few weeks and I’m taking a page out of Kassidy’s parent’s playbook. We’re not going to camp pleasure, but I think a week with all of us in one place, letting our guard down might be the path forward. It’ll prove to Jordanna once and for all that I’m all in, and it’ll show my friends that I choose her. Without games or pretenses. I just need to set down some ground rules, first.
“I know everyone has plans for spring break, but I was thinking we could meet up during the second w
eek at my dad’s beach house,” I say, looking around the table.
“We haven’t done that in a while. What’s the occasion?” Frankie asks.
“I think we can all agree that this has been a crazy year, and things have been a little strained between us this semester. Some time away from campus might be good for us. We’ll be on the beach so I expect to draw a crowd, but the only people staying at the house will be us.”
“Just us?” He pouts. “You mean I have to convince someone to let me stay at their place if I need my nuts rubbed?”
“You’re free to bring one guest. I am”
“Guest?” Hal looks up as much as he can through the haze of smoke.
“Jordanna. My girlfriend.”
Saying that word to them does something to me. I brace myself, waiting for someone to attack.
“So this relationship is official?”
“That’s right. It’s not a game, it’s not revenge. Jordy and I are together. I know you might not like it, or agree with it, but it’s done.”
Bella’s staring at me, but nobody speaks. Their silence makes me suspicious. “Nobody has anything to say about that? Not that I actually give a shit. But, I’d rather you get it out now, because I won’t stand for anyone disrespecting Jordanna, or making her feel unwelcome.”
Tabitha nods, and says, “It’s your life Logan.”
Frankie punches me on the shoulder. “We all have our things, I guess Jordanna is yours.”
Hal remains quiet, and Bella breaks the chain. Laughing at me. “Oh God, you almost had me. This is a joke, right? You’re not really saying you’re in a relationship.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Jordanna is my girlfriend, and whatever plans you had to hurt her, they’re over.” I give each of them a pointed look. “Am I making myself clear?”