by Dakota Lee
Frankie tilts his head to the side, surveying the scene. "Dude, you're gonna need to make your play before someone else does."
Bella nods, a gleeful smile twisting her lips. "Logan's never gonna be able to get her to cave. He carries his own smell. The stench of a million hoe bags. It's in his pores. Little Miss Priss will never let him touch her delicate skin."
What Bella doesn't know. What none of them know is that she's already touched my skin. Willingly. I had to stand there, enduring the torture of it. Soft, unsure hands as she pulled and twisted me into position to get the perfect shot. I was so hard my nuts ached. And her shy kiss. I wanted to devour her mouth and would have if she hadn't pulled away when she did.
I've been biding my time. Letting her get used to the idea of being single. Exploring the world around her at her pace. Because once I claim her, she'll get a crash course in surviving in mine. I flick my eyes to the right, clenching my hands into fists. I'm going to need to remind Tobias and Will about what happens when you defy me.
I'm in Jordanna's room, on her bed, when she gets back from dinner. "How do you keep getting in here?"
"I have a key."
She holds out her hand, glaring at me. "Kassidy should stop giving it out to you. What if I were naked and had a guy in here?"
"Yeah, I'm not worried about either of those things happening."
She flinches and I can see I struck a nerve and that she's second guessing herself again. Shit. I rise from the bed, crossing over to her. "Let's get one thing straight. Robbie is a fucking idiot. That's it. That's the only problem that existed in that relationship."
I school my face into a mask, so she can't see how pissed off I am that I have to overcome his bullshit. "I don't want to hear you blaming yourself, or see this look of self doubt on your face, ever again. Understand?"
She nods.
"And the reason I'm not worried a guy is going to be in here, is because they know to date you, they have to get through me. And nobody's going up against me." I drop a quick kiss on her lips and go back to sitting on her bed. "Let's go over the numbers." I say, as if that little exchange didn’t just happen.
Little by little, I've been drawing Jordanna out of her shell. Today is the day I push her to go further. When she arrives at the studio, I hand her an iPod and headphones. "Paint what you hear, and whatever you do, don't stop. Just keep painting."
I lay the large canvas out before her and step away as she gets to work. I watch for a while, and when her hand stills, I know she's reached the part of the playlist that will make her uncomfortable.
"Keep painting." I remind her, picking up my camera to take candids of her as she's working.
The way she bites her lip, the way her lashes sweep her cheeks. The plane of her neck. Her full lips, and the pointed tips of her nipples through her shirt. She swipes the back of her hand across her forehead leaving a trail of green paint and I capture that too. I drop the camera and move to my bench, needing to do something with my hands. She pauses to watch me through the mirror, rolling and softening the clay with my hands and water.
Her strokes resume and I'm fixated on the intensity of her eyes. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I have to grip the desk against the need settling in my gut. I continue to work the clay to counteract the illogical desire to work her flesh.
The painting is taking shape. A tidal wave of need of her own. She continues to arc and stroke and curve her lines, ebbing and flowing with the crescendo of what she's hearing, until finally her brush stops moving completely. I abandon my clay and move across the floor to wrap my arms around her, holding her against me as she fights the tremor threatening to cut through her.
"Please," she gasps.
I turn her to face me, kissing her thoroughly and completely, swirling our tongues together in an erotic dance. She claws at my shirt and I whip it over my head. The soundtrack is still playing. I lead her across the floor and have her stand in front of me as I sit on the edge of the bed.
I lift her shirt, planting kisses on her taut stomach, before settling her on my lap. I hold her close as she squirms against me. I'm intentionally keeping myself from touching her any more than this, and I can tell it's the first time she's been swept up in desire like this. So tightly wound that her body betrays her control and even an inch of friction will help quench her thirst.
I nudge her against me, my erection pressing against the seam of her jeans, as I nuzzle her breast, palming it through the material of her shirt. Her body arches toward me and she grinds against me, following her body's cues. Her eyes are closed, and she's biting that full bottom lip. She's gonna look magnificent riding me.
I place her hands on my chest and her eyes fly open as if suddenly remembering where she is and what she's doing. Snatching the headphones off, she scrambles off of my lap. "I need to go."
I catch up to her at the door, caging her against it, the way I did that first night in the bathroom. That first night my body knew what my mind hadn't yet caught on to. I was attracted to her. My mouth is inches away from her skin, my breath floating across the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.
"Please move your hand, Logan."
"Why?"
"I told you, I need to go."
"You're running, Jordy."
"Please." Her voice comes out in a soft plea. "I need to go. Now."
"Because you want me?"
She shakes her head and I know it for a lie. "Fuck Jordy, no lies tonight. No hiding. I see what you painted. I know what's on that playlist, I made it."
"It's just a painting. It means nothing."
I force my hand inside her jeans and into her panties as I lean my weight against her back, pushing her closer to the door. "Jordy, you're fucking soaked, and that means everything."
Working my fingers inside her, my thumb presses against her swollen bundle of nerves. "I know you want me, but you think it's wrong, and I don't give a fuck. Every time you lie to me, deny what you're feeling around me, it just makes me want to own this pussy even more."
I reach up with my other hand, squeezing her breast. Fuck, I love the weight of it in my hand. "Are you going to keep lying to me, Jordanna?" I piston my fingers in and out of her wet hole, curling, searching for that spot.
"Logan…" Her broken sob does nothing to sway me.
"Tell me you want me."
She shakes her head, refusing to answer. I kiss the back of her neck, pressing my stiff cock against her ass. It's straining to be freed.
"Tell me, Jordy."
She rocks against my fingers, fighting for more and yet trying to pull away. Her senses are on overload and I force myself to stop, even though a part of me wants, no needs, to see her fall apart tonight. I step back, giving her space to leave.
"Go!" I order. "Go now, before I take you up against this door."
Frankie's in my spot at the cafe, and I growl at him to move.
"What the hell's got you in such a foul mood?"
I wish I knew how to answer that question. Things with Jordanna were progressing nicely, and then she just froze up on me. I certainly didn't expect her to beg me to take her right then and there, but she can't even admit she’s attracted to me or that there's a desire in her that needs to be sated?
How far down the suppression route did this celibacy train go? It took everything in me not to fuck her up against that door. That's how badly I wanted her.
Patrick's mumbling something about getting laid, and I give a noncommittal grunt in agreement. I do need to get laid, because there's no version of events where I sit back and accept that some uppity virgin gave me blue balls.
She comes into the cafe, eyes darting around. Her steps falter when her eyes land on me. She gathers herself, straightens her back, and comes closer. "Uh, can I talk to you for a minute?"
I nod my head.
"Alone."
I slide out the booth, following her outside. "What's up?"
She glances away, looking unsure of what to say or where to begin.
I wait while she debates whatever is going through her mind with herself.
Finally, she looks at me. "Okay, so here's the thing. I'm not sure what happened the other night, and I know I sort of freaked out. But with Robbie it was-"
"If you're about to put yourself down, I don't wanna hear it." I warn.
"Logan, I appreciate that you're trying to help me, but if it's because you expect sex in return, I don't want to be that kind of friend."
"What kind of friend do you want to be Jordy?"
"The regular kind. I just got out of a relationship and I'm not ready for anything new.”
How did we go from her riding my fingers to she wants me in the friend zone? I have to play this smart, because if I push too hard, she'll shut down on me.
"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was pressuring you. I got swept up in the moment, too." I give her a playful smile. "That's what being young and single is all about. You go as far as you want. Obviously, neither of us intended for it to happen."
"Right. We didn't." She peeks up at me through her lashes. "So you're not mad at me?"
"No. Of course not. Are you mad at me?"
She blushes, shaking her head.
"Okay then. We're still friends."
She breathes a sigh of relief and tells me she has to meet Kassidy for dinner. With a quick wave, she heads towards the cafeteria. Friends, my ass. The only acceptable outcome is Jordanna’s tight body underneath mine, screaming my name, as I pound into her over and over again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
It's somebody's birthday, and I'm Kassidy's plus one. She convinced me to come out by telling me the food and drinks are already paid for. That's the only reason I'm about to order something off the menu that would take months for my account to rebound from.
That sense of awareness runs down my spine. I look up from the menu in time to see Logan walking through the doors. I was looking forward to an evening off campus, away from the stress and worry about whether I'm doing enough to get my name in front of the right teachers and faculty, so they'll write glowing letters of recommendation for me. I'm also tired of obsessing about if I'm doing enough to stay invisible to everyone else.
But Logan's here, getting seated at a table with Shauna and his friends. I feel his eyes on me as he follows his group to their table.
Things have been sort of stilted between us since that night at his studio. I thought clearing the air would help, but I still don't know how to act around him. Maybe it's just me projecting my unease on him, because I feel conflicted about what happened.
"I thought I was escaping the BP's tonight." I whisper in Kassidy's ear.
"I did too." She links her arm through mine. "Ignore them. We're here to have some good food, and free drinks. And if you play your cards right, you just might get lucky at the end of the night."
She wiggles her brows and makes a loud kissing noise in the air.
"Lucky better be ice cream."
"Mint chocolate and those cookies you like."
My mood settles and I resolve to have a good time. Kassidy's right. I shouldn't let Logan and his friends being in the same building ruin my night.
I swipe at the corner of my mouth, hiding a smile. I've been having great time so far listening to the people around the table tell stories about the trips they've been on together and apart and some of the crazy antics they've gotten into. My mouth gapes open listening as the person across from Kassidy gushes about how much fun she had at her parents' retreat.
Kassidy turns to me. "Don't worry, I'll take you with me on one of our breaks and make sure you have a great time too. I promise."
I feel my cheeks getting heated, and someone teases, "Awe, you made Jordanna blush."
A flurry at the end of the table draws my attention. My back stiffens as a chair scrapes across the floor and rights itself next to me. The wait staff is pushing another table closer, and I realize Logan and his friends are joining us.
"Holding hands probably makes her prudish ass blush." Bella says, taking the previously vacant seat across from me. Logan is next to her and Shauna's practically sitting in his lap.
He can barely meet my eyes. Nope, not projecting. Things are weird.
The guy is telling me about the sand and beach and how warm the water is on your skin. A perfect paradise oasis, with all the nakedness you can take.
"It's a nudist colony?" I ask.
"It's a place where you're encouraged to do what feels right for you," Kassidy corrects. "Nudity is optional and only during certain lectures or classes."
"Oh."
"Again, not something charity has to worry about." Olivia, cackles.
"And why is that?" I ask.
"Cause you're a freak and not in a sexually good way. You were in a closest with Logan and came out fully clothed. Girl, anyone else would have been letting him fuck the shit out of them, even after the door opened. But you just walked out like it was no big deal."
"I had a boyfriend."
"Nobody gives a shit. It's Logan. Fucking. McKay. And I hear your boyfriend had no such issues getting his."
Shauna nods her head, narrowing her eyes at me. "Have you even seen a dick before?" She looks around the table. "I've got a C-Note for the first person to whip it out right here and give the Prudish Princess a look at her first dick." She looks around the table? "No? Three hundred?"
"Shauna." Logan squeezes her thigh to get her attention.
She leans against him, rubbing her hand up and down his chest, and continues raising her offer. "Four. Okay, five hundred."
The guys push back from the table, hands on their pants, I see and hear the zippers going down. I make the mistake of looking up, and turn my head, only to find someone standing next to me with his pelvis in my face. What in the holy hell? Pushing back from the table, I grab my purse and run to the front of the restaurant.
Barbarians. That's the only way to describe them. Barbarians in Prada purses and Armani suits. I step from under the protection of the awning, into the heavy drops of water coming from the sky.
It's fitting. Of course, a disastrous night will end with the time I spent straightening my hair, going to waste.
"Jordanna!" A voice calls from behind me. I ignore it, focused on my destination. I turn left, the click of my heels accompanied by the splatter of the rain as it hits the pavement.
I hear his footsteps behind me, because of course my humiliation won't be complete until he catches me breaking down. Well, I won't give any of them the satisfaction.
"Jordy, stop."
I tune out his voice. I'm almost to the bus stop. There should be one any second now.
"Jordanna, I said fucking stop!”
His order cuts through the air and my back goes ramrod straight. For some reason my feet listen and I'm unable to move. Oh, no. This is bullshit and I'm not about to stand for it.
I take a deep breath and continue walking. I'm nobody's submissive puppy. Fuck him, his fake offer of friendship, and his orders. He's truly no better than the rest of them, and I'm sorry I ever allowed myself to believe he was.
Logan's freakishly long legs quickly catch up to me, but I keep walking as if he's not there. As I approach the corner, I realize that if I wait for the bus, I'll be forced to listen to him, so I decide to keep on walking. Three miles in heels won't kill me, right?
Well, someone must be watching out for me, because as soon as I step in the street a car pulls up. Noel rolls down the window and the passenger door opens. Yes. I slide into the warm leather seat, close the door, and snap my seatbelt. We take off, smothering Logan and his useless explanation in the smoke from the car’s exhaust.
Noel drops me in front of the dorm and reluctantly accepts my insistence that I don't need an escort to my room. As soon as I round the corner, I regret my decision to let Noel drive away, because Logan’s here, waiting for me.
"You've got some nerve, running out into the rain and riding off in Noel's car, when I'm trying to talk to you."
&
nbsp; "I can do what the hell I want with my friends, just like you can do what you want with yours. Or did you expect me to sit there and listen to everyone demean me and my choices once again?"
I stab my finger into his chest. "And you said nothing, when they were all about to pull their dicks out in a literal dick comparing competition. What was taking you so long to join in? Huh? Some damn friend you are."
Glaring, I step around him to get to my room. "Go away, Logan."
I let out a small yelp when my back presses against the wall.
"I tried to do this your way. Now we're doing it mine."
"Wha-?"
My question is cut off by the feel of his mouth crashing into mine. The weight of his hand on the back of my head holding me to him and the smell of him filling my nose. Overwhelming. Manly.
He smells like rain and pine. Paint and clay. He's creative. A creator. Each swipe of his tongue turns me into his design. The kiss sweeps me away, tearing me apart and reforming me the way he wants. He’s Pygmalion and I’m Galatea.
The sound of chatter behind us doesn't stop his assault on my mouth. He pushes us into the darkened corner of the hall where the light is out.
My body is buzzing from his touch and a tightness pulls in my lower belly. I shouldn't be feeling this. Enjoying this. But god, his mouth and taste and touch are making me crave things. Crave him. In a terrifying way. He hitches my leg up, grinding his pelvis against me.
The bulge of his erection digs into my stomach, and I feel myself getting wet. Why is this happening? Now? With him?
Wedging his thigh between my legs, he applies pressure to my already aching center. I shift against it; the friction eliciting an unbidden moan from somewhere deep inside of me. His mouth and teeth find my shoulder and then his head dips. He palms my breast over the top of the dress, his thumb teasing my nipple into a hardened peak.
His mouth encircles my nipple. Logan teethes and nips at me, the thin material is a futile barrier between his tongue and my skin. With each pull, my core clenches. I'm dropped in the middle of every sensation, churning within a sea of need, drowning to it. He grabs my hips, pulling me closer, grinding his dick against me.