His Fantasy Girl

by Nina Croft

  It was no good. If she didn’t do something she would never sleep. Closing her eyes, she stroked her hand from her breasts down over her belly, slipping it under the waistband of her pajamas. Then lower, imagining it was Logan’s hand, Logan’s fingers sliding between the folds of her sex. God, she was wet. She touched her clit lightly, then harder.

  The phone on her bedside table rang and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Who would phone her at this hour?

  She had an inkling, as though she had conjured him up with her fantasies. She pulled her hand free, sticky from her own juices, and picked up the phone with her other hand. “Yes?”

  “Abby?” Of course she recognized his voice; it was imprinted on her memory. Right now it sounded low, growly, sexy as hell, and tingles zinged up and down her nerves.

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “I want to see you.”

  She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. “To discuss Jenny? We can talk tomorrow.”

  “No, not to discuss Jenny. Not to discuss anything. There’s only one thing I want your mouth doing right now, and it isn’t talking.”

  “Oh.” An image flashed in her mind: her on her knees in front of Logan, his cock, hard and ready and right in front of her face. She licked her lips but couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say.

  “So?” he said as the silence drew out between them. “Are you going to let me…see you?”

  “When?” What had happened to keeping her distance? She was so weak willed.

  “Now would be fucking good.”

  “Now? It’s after midnight and I’m in bed—”

  “There’ll be time to sleep when you’re dead, baby. Get your ass out here.”

  “Out here? Where are you, Logan?”

  The sound of a car horn startled her. For a second she thought it was from the phone, then she realized the noise originated right outside her house. She scrambled out of bed and shuffled across to the window, drawing back the curtain. A black pick-up truck was parked at the curb. The headlights were off, but in the light from the streetlamps she could make out Logan lounging in the driver’s seat. He raised a hand in her direction.

  Her mouth went dry and her pulse raced. She put the phone back to her ear. “What the hell are you doing here, Logan?”

  “I was sitting at home, just me and Grunt, and I started thinking.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  “You and me. And a few of my more persistent fantasies. A minute later I had my hand down my pants and my fist around my cock, and I was imagining your mouth doing all sorts of interesting things. And I thought—fuck this. I want the real thing. So here I am.”

  Be strong Be strong. “Well, you can go away again. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Not going to happen, babe.” The horn sounded again, and across the road a light went on.

  “Will you stop that? You’ll wake the neighbors. And Jenny.”

  “Come out then, and I’ll stop. Come on, Abby, where’s your sense of adventure.”

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered.

  Would it be so bad? Just once? After all, hadn’t she been doing the same thing, pleasuring herself while imagining Logan doing all sorts of wild and wicked things to her? Now here he was.

  “Don’t you have a fantasy or two?” he murmured and she gripped the phone tighter. “I can make them come true. Anything you like. You only have to ask.”

  Oh God, he was like the devil tempting her. She took a deep breath. “I’ll be down in five.”

  She ended the call before he could say anything else. Grabbing a pair of jeans out of the wardrobe, she pulled them on over her pajama bottoms, added a zip up sweatshirt over her camisole, shoved her feet into flip-flops and was ready to go. She ran her hands through her hair but didn’t bother with any other preparations.

  After closing her bedroom door gently behind her, she tiptoed down the stairs. Everything in the house was silent. She snatched her keys from the sideboard and was about to open the door when a voice spoke from the top of the stairs. “And where are you going at this time of night, Abigail Parker?”

  She stopped stock still. Her mother stood at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a dressing gown, hands on her hips.

  “I…er… Oh God.” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Her mum raised an eyebrow. “Well, just practice safe sex…this time.” And she was gone.

  Abby considered heading back to bed and hiding her heated face under the pillow, but Logan would no doubt beep until the whole neighborhood was awake. She let herself out of the house and headed down the drive and through the gate. The passenger door to the truck was open and without giving herself time to rethink the decision, she hauled herself inside and plonked herself down on the leather seat.

  “Nice truck,” she muttered, giving Logan a quick sideways peek. He’d changed into faded jeans that clung to his long legs and lean hips and a white T-shirt. He appeared big in the confines of the cab, filling the space. His hair was loose around his shoulders and disheveled as though he’d run his hands through it. Her fingers itched for her to do the same.

  “It was my ride before I went inside,” he said, switching on the engine. He glanced at her and gave her a quick grin. “More than a few of those fantasies of mine actually took place in this very truck.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. So did I wake you up?” he asked pulling out onto the empty road.

  “No.” She shifted on the seat as she remembered what she’d been doing when he’d called. She cleared her throat. “I couldn’t sleep. I was…”

  “You were what?” Another quick glance. “Did you know you’re blushing?”

  “No, I’m not. And where are we going?”

  “Somewhere quiet. I didn’t think you’d want to make out in front of your house.”

  “God, no.” She could imagine her mum peering out from behind the curtains. And was that what he was here for? To make out? It made them sound like naughty teenagers sneaking off. It also made her hot and wet, everything tingling. She pressed her thighs together to try and alleviate the sensation but it just intensified. “Is that what we’re going to do? Make out?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Logan rested one hand on the leg nearest him, steering with the other. Sliding it up her denim clad thigh, he pressed his fingers into the apex between her legs, pushed upward, and the tingles turned to sparks. How could he do this to her so easily, with just the simplest of touches?

  Finally, he turned the truck into an alley off a quiet residential road, pulled up, removed his hand, and switched off the headlights and the engine. He sat back for a moment, staring straight ahead, then twisted in his seat so he was facing her, his expression serious. “So, what were you doing when I called?”

  “Nothing…thinking.”

  “Thinking about me?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay maybe a little bit.” Like his mouth and hands.

  His heated gaze played over her in the dim light, finally returning to her face. “You’re blushing again. Tell me what you were really doing.”

  No way.

  “Come on, Abby. I told you. Turnabout’s fair.” When she still didn’t speak, he swiped his tongue over his lower lip. “How about I help you out? Were you touching yourself? Did you get all hot and wet thinking about me?”

  She gave a quick nod.

  “See that was easy. Was your hand between your legs when I called? Were those naughty fingers of yours in your wet pussy?”

  She nodded again.

  “Shit, that’s fucking hot. Did you get yourself off?”

  She shook her head. “You interrupted me.”

  “Good. When you come, I want to be the one calling the shots.” He reached out and trailed his hand down over her cheek. “So you’re feeling pretty needy right now?”

  She was going to explode with embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this?”

  H
e grinned but nodded. “I guess we have better things to do. So this next fantasy—you’re the secretary again—and you’ve fallen even harder for me, so you help me escape.”

  “Really? That’s impressive.”

  “Babe, you’re one pretty resourceful woman. Anyway, you meet me outside with my truck and…” His gaze focused on her lips, and she remembered what he said about there only being one thing he wanted her to do with her mouth and it wasn’t talking. She could make a pretty good guess at what he did want, and her tongue came out to lick her lower lip. A flash of amusement flickered in his eyes. “I think you can guess what happens next.”

  She glanced down at the soft faded denim hiding the huge bulge in his jeans. He was already hard, that much was clear. She licked her lips again, and he groaned.

  Could she do this? Here and now, on the side of the road? Did she want to do this? Oh yes. She just wasn’t sure of the logistics. Should they undress, should she wait for him to make a move? But for once she wanted to instigate things, wanted some level of control.

  She peered up at his face. His eyes held a hint of frustrated amusement, but he remained silent as if to let her think things through. She could do this. And she wanted to do this.

  Reaching out slowly, she trailed a hand over the bulge of his erection, heard the hiss of indrawn breath. She slipped her fingers under the hem of his T-shirt, pushed it up, and fumbled with his belt buckle, finally managing to tug it open. She hesitated a moment, then flicked open the button at his waist. No going back now. Taking the zipper tab between her finger and thumb she slowly lowered it. He groaned. “Baby, don’t you dare stop.”

  Now what?

  She tugged at his jeans, and he lifted up so she could pull them down around his hips. His boxers snagged on his erection, and she took a deep breath and slid her hand inside, wrapped it around the rigid heat of his shaft, pushing his boxers down with her other hand.

  She gazed down at him. The other night had been too intense; she hadn’t really taken him in. Now she stared. She’d never thought of penises as beautiful before, but Logan’s was stunning. Satin skin stretched tight over steel. He was long, reaching up past his navel, and thick, flaring at the head, and her sex clenched up at the sight of all that masculine power at her mercy.

  Her mouth watered.

  Suddenly his seat fell back, and she realized he’d pulled the lever beside him. Now he half lay beside her. Should she stay in her seat or kneel on the floor? She’d try the seat first—she didn’t think she’d fit on the floor.

  “You’re making me hurt here.” His voice was ragged with tension.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Was I quicker in your fantasy?”

  “Hey, don’t make me beg.”

  She cocked her head on one side and studied him. “Would you?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  She was so wet from just thinking about this. Lowering her head, she stroked her tongue from the base to the tip, swirling around the head, breathing in the musky scent of him, her senses filling with the clean taste—citrus and soap and hot man. She pulled back and glanced up. “Is there any particular way to do this? You know…to fulfill your fantasy?”

  He growled low in his throat. “You’re a tease, Sergeant Parker.”

  Was she? She never had been before, but she was different with Logan. He was so…carnal. She felt liberated when she was with him like this, free to be someone she’d never even thought existed. She’d worry about it later; right now she had more important things to do.

  This time, she took the flaring head of his cock fully into her mouth and sucked, loving the way his hips lifted, trying to push deeper into her mouth. She grazed him with her teeth, and he went still. She was in charge here. Slowly, she slid her lips down over the length of him, until he hit the back of her throat and she could take no more. She’d heard about deep throating but suspected she might throw up if she tried, and that might ruin the moment. Wrapping her fist around the base of his cock, she spent minutes gliding up and down the thick shaft, then more, suckling the head, feeling him jerk and pulse inside her mouth. She loved that she could give him pleasure like this. A quick glance showed his eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and a ragged pulse beat in his throat.

  She kissed the tip and moved lower, using her tongue to caress the taut skin of his balls until they gleamed wetly and she knew he was close. Wrapping her mouth around him again, she concentrated on the head, sucking hard, then soft. His hand slid into her hair, fingers digging into her scalp as he guided her movements. She reached between them, cupped her palm around his balls and squeezed gently, and he came with a final thrust into her mouth, filling her with the hot, salty taste of him. She swallowed convulsively as he pumped into her. She’d never actually swallowed before. Her partners in the past had always pulled out—out of politeness she presumed. She liked this way better.

  Finally he collapsed back onto the seat. She pulled away, giving him a last quick kiss, and lay her head on his belly while he stroked her hair from her face.

  “Holy shit, that was better than any fantasy.”

  She smiled against his skin and pushed herself up. His face held a sleepy, sated expression, his eyes half-closed. A weird sensation ran through her, the need to hold him tight, to not let him go, but she shook the feeling away. His T-shirt was pushed up, his jeans pushed down, but he made no move to cover himself. Unable to resist, she reached out and stroked the silky hair that bisected his belly, twirling her fingers in the curls. His stomach was rock hard, the individual muscles clearly visible beneath the olive skin.

  “Take your jeans off,” he said, the words jolting her from her appreciation of his body. As she considered it, she grew hotter, wetter. She glanced at his cock, still semi-hard, but she doubted he was capable of performing right now.

  “Can you…?”

  He grinned. “Not yet—you’ve drained me dry. But I fancy playing a little. Take them off.”

  She glanced outside but the street was dark and quiet. Nothing moved.

  Why not?

  She was sure there was a very good reason. And she couldn’t quite believe she was considering it—little miss perfect, never put a foot wrong, was going to get next to naked with Logan McCabe in his truck. Before she could change her mind, she undid the snap on her jeans and wriggled out of them, taking her pajama bottoms with them, shoving them onto the floor at her feet.

  “And the top.”

  That would leave her in nothing but the lacy camisole she slept in. She shrugged out of the jacket and dropped it on top of her jeans.

  “Christ, that’s hot. Come here.”

  “Come where?”

  “You ever made out in a truck before?”

  “Never.”

  “What a surprise. Come over onto my seat, straddle my hips.”

  She gave him a look of disbelief, but shuffled over. Logan placed his hands on her thighs to help her and soon she was kneeling, one leg on either side of his hips, feeling extremely vulnerable. Logan obviously liked it, his cock twitched and jerked, coming alive once more. His gaze played over her body like a flame.

  “Touch yourself,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “Stroke your pussy. Show me how you were touching yourself when I phoned. Come on, sweetheart. It’s hot. Shy? I’ll go first.” He fisted his hand around his cock, and her mouth went dry.

  Slowly her hand shifted to between her legs. The heat pooled in her sex, sliding down her inner thighs, she was so turned on. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she pushed one finger between the folds, sliding it over her swollen clit. Looking into his face, she found him staring at where her hand was buried between her thighs, while his own hand pumped his cock. Shivers of sensation ran through her, coalescing in her belly, sinking lower…

  “Are you wet?” he asked, his voice husky with a need that amped up her own desire.

  She withdrew her fingers to show them glistening with moisture. He grasped her
hand and brought it to his mouth, his tongue licking at her fingers so she felt the touch between her legs. God, he was sexy.

  “More,” he urged.

  This time she used both hands, one to spread her lips, the other to stroke herself then push inside. The pleasure was building. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. He dragged the straps of her camisole down over her shoulders and arms, tugging it down to free her breasts. Her nipples were hard little peaks, and he rolled one between his thumb and fingers, tugging. The sensation was enough to tip her over the edge, and she came apart, pressing the heel of her hand against her sex to prolong the pleasure.

  Finally she went still and peeked at him through half-closed lashes. His cheekbones were flushed, his breathing ragged.

  “Can you reach into my pocket?”

  She fumbled around until she found what she was looking for and pulled the condom from the back pocket of his jeans. Obviously, if nothing else, the last ten years had taught him safe sex. He took it from her, ripped open the packet with his teeth, the rolled the condom over his erection. “Now where were we?”

  Placing his hands on her hips, he shifted in the seat until his cock nudged at the entrance to her body. Then he pulled her down, impaling her on the thick, hard length of him, and she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensations.

  She didn’t know what time it was when he finally pulled the truck up in front of her house. They’d made love, and then they’d talked, about Jenny mainly, for hours. He wanted to know everything. Afterward, they’d made love again. Now they were both dressed, but the cab reeked of sex, thick and musky, reminding her of the things they had done. Things she wanted again already.

  Would she ever get enough of him?

  Whoa! Scary thought.

  She was pretty sure that for Logan, she was a novelty: his fantasy girl. But he wasn’t the monogamous type, and he’d tire of her soon enough. She would do well to remember that, because it would be so easy to get hooked, and she would be in for a fall if she allowed herself to get addicted to the way he made her feel.