Текст книги "She: Part 2"
Автор книги: Annabel Fanning
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 29 страниц)
Someone steps out of the elevator and one second later hands grip my hips. Familiar arms wrap around me before lips that I know very well mutter against my own, “Hello, baby.” Logan kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth.
“Are you alone?” I whisper.
“Uh-huh,” he says into my mouth before kissing me once more. Relieved that it’s just the two of us, I relax and wrap my arms around his neck, my phone still in my hand, kissing him with equal ardour. My panic melts away seamlessly as I push my body more firmly against his and his arms tighten their hold of me. It’s a long, deep, sensual kiss that sparks a fire in both of us. How long are his parents going to be? Suddenly I’m eager to postpone our meeting for reasons wholly different to nerves. Logan’s hands run up and down body and when we finally break apart, he mutters, “Not that I mind feeling my way around,” his hands cup my backside, “but why are the lights off?”
“Your birthday present,” I explain, feeling breathless from our kiss.
“Oh…when am I allowed to unwrap it?”
“Soon,” I breathe, bringing my lips to his once more. “There’s just something I want to do first…” My words trail away as I kiss him. He is intoxicating to me, his mere presence causing endorphins to flood my system, and his kiss causing a potent chemical reaction within me. I’m hooked, and I know with certainty that I’ll never get enough of him to satiate my desire. I’ll always want more Logan.
Appeasing my appetite for him, Logan kisses me headily while his hands continue their tour of my body.
Around us the music dies down to a simmer before a new, punching beat kicks in.
“I didn’t know you liked the Boss, baby,” Logan says quietly.
“Fitting, isn’t it?” I giggle, taking his hand and spinning around as Dancing In The Dark plays loudly.
“The timing is impeccable.”
I spin around again but in doing so I drop my phone which lights up. Logan bends to pick it up and starts chuckling when he sees what I’ve been searching.
“The Boss and the Charleston Outlaws, huh?”
“They won their game last weekend. Great, right?” I say, testing out my smalltalk on him while my phone illuminates our faces.
“I also didn’t know you like football,” Logan smiles.
“Love it!” I exclaim. “The Outlaws played a perfect game.”
Logan starts laughing. My phone goes black and we’re in darkness once more. His hands find my waist and slowly he slides them up my body until my face is cupped. He presses his lips against mine, still laughing to himself. “I love you, Gemima, you know that, right?” he says, all of a sudden.
“I do.”
“Good,” he laughs once more. “The Outlaws aren’t a football team, baby.”
Dammit! “Baseball?” I guess.
“Nope, but it’s fucking adorable what you’re doing, even if it is unnecessary. You don’t have to impress my parents, just be yourself.” Paying me the biggest compliment in the world, he adds, “That’s how you won my affection. That’s how you’ll win theirs.”
“I was nervous,” I confess, “but I’m not anymore. I find it hard to worry about anything when I’m with you, Logan. Not even my American Mouth scares me.”
“Oh, shit, I forgot about that,” he teases me, so I pinch him. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Just keep it filled with food, wine, and cake.”
“You baked me a cake?”
“A birthday boy needs a birthday cake,” I state, matter-of-factly.
“I was under the impression that birthdays get less exciting the older you get.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I laugh, “I’m sure I’ll disappoint you next year. It’s going to be hard to top what I’ve got you this year. It’s pretty fucking cool, even if I do say so myself,” I grin through the darkness at him.
“Can I open it now?” he checks.
“Let’s evaluate the situation we’re in, shall we? We’re alone,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist. “It’s dark, and we’ve got a little time on our hands… So, do you really want your present now, or…?”
“I want my present,” Logan says, and I can tell that he’s smiling.
“Jeez, I don’t stand a chance against candy or presents, do I?” I say in mock petulance, making Logan laugh. “Fine, baby, you can have it,” I concede, taking his hand and pulling him towards the man’s den. “Lights.”
Logan surveys every inch of the room, his face excited. I enjoy watching him for a moment longer, before finally telling him, “It’s not in here.”
“Oh…where then?”
“It’s out there in the dark. I just need a minute to put the cherry on the top.”
“OK,” he smiles his boyish smile. “Be quick,” he tells me.
I leave the room with a laugh, calling behind me, “No peeking!”
I hurry into the dressing room and rummage through my overnight bag until I find the large red bow that I bought to seal the French doors with. Then being as quiet as I can I step out onto the terrace to turn the lights on the planter boxes on once more. I fumble with the sticky backing of the bow for a minute before it finally behaves itself and I secure it in place.
“Lights,” I say. When my eyes adjust I take in the sight of the doors. Perfect, I think.
Logan is waiting impatiently just inside the man’s den. I saunter over to him, walk around him and reach up on my tiptoes to cover his eyes. “Ready?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he smiles, his dimples pronounced.
“Walk forward four paces,” I tell him.
Together we move forward, clearing the doorframe.
“Now we’re turning to the left,” I instruct, before following through with the action.
“And forward again,” I say. Logan practically drags me behind him, he’s moving at such a keen pace. “Stop!” I shriek just before his nose hits the doors. I take a deep breath: it’s the moment of truth.
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Logan says, reading my anxious silence correctly.
Yes, I think, I know he will. I let my hands fall from his eyes and stand beside him. Beneath my hands his eyes were closed, and he blinks them open eagerly. His eyes dart quickly from the red bow to the light coming from beyond the doors.
“Oh my god!” he exclaims. “Gemima…” he turns to look at me in disbelief.
“It was a bit too big to wrap up, so I put a bow on it instead.”
Taking the bow off of the doors, Logan throws them both open wide, and stands in the frame, staring out at his new oasis, completely speechless. My heart rate hammering, I sidestep him and walk out onto the terrace while he stays motionless, his eyes taking in every last detail.
“Happy birthday,” I smile.
“Baby, this is…” Words fail him. He steps onto the terrace, and finally his look of shock transforms into the most breathtaking smile.
He likes it, I think happily.
“This is unbelievable! It’s gorgeous, Gemima!” His whole face is lit up in excitement, and I note that I’ve never seen him look as beautiful as he does right now. He runs his hands through his hair, saying, “I can’t believe it! I cannot believe you did this…look at it,” he spins around, “it’s perfect.” He halts in his surveying to look at me instead, his adoration evident. He’s in front of me in two quick strides and before I can even say my own name, his lips are on mine. “Baby, this is the best gift that I’ve ever received. I can’t believe you did this for me,” he says breathlessly, his eyes pouring into mine.
I beam at him. I couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. “You like it, then?” I ask needlessly.
“Yes!” he laughs. “Oh my god, yes! It’s exactly what I wanted. It’s so much more than I could ever have done myself. It’s incredible,” he smiles, taking another look. “Thank you, Gemima. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” I’m unable to keep the smugness out of my voice. “I had to get you back for taking me to Beaux Rêves,” I tease.
“You certainly did,” Logan laughs again, taking my hand as he walks around the terrace taking a closer look at everything.
Once we’ve gone in a circle we find ourselves standing in front of the table, which is ready and waiting for us to have dinner. “It was Mercy’s idea for us to eat here tonight,” I tell him.
“It’s perfect,” he tells me again. “Completely perfect!”
“I’m not convinced that you’ve seen the best bit yet,” I say, leading him to the corner of the table and pointing out the little forty-nine plaque.
Logan registers its meaning and sinks into one of the new chairs, pulling me onto his lap, a broad smile across his face. “You blow my fucking mind,” he tells me, making me laugh. “Did you steal it from our cafe?” he jokes.
Playing along, I say, “Yes, I figured: what better way to meet your parents than with a fresh arrest warrant for theft.”
“My parents are very good at getting people out of trouble, I’m proof of that,” he grins.
“Good,” I smile against his lips. “I won’t worry about it, then.” I slide my arms around his neck and force his mouth open with my own. I kiss him forcefully, brushing my tongue against his. He groans in satisfaction and the sound ignites everything in me. Desire surges through my body and I shift on his lap so that I’m straddling him, pressing my body against his as hard as humanly possible.
The electricity in our bubble builds; it’s strengthening, encouraging us onwards.
Without words we’re able to communicate our thoughts. My shifting tells him: I want you. His hands finding the hem of my dress and sliding underneath it to caress my thighs says: I want you too. My brief glance over his shoulder through the terrace doors towards the elevator, asks: Do we have enough time? And Logan’s hand gliding up my leg, over my backside, between my cheeks until his fingers lightly grace my sex, answers me: I’ll risk it if you will.
Our chests are rising and falling rapidly, we stare deep into each other’s eyes, and though every ounce of me wants to have him fill me, and take me right here, I’m scared of being interrupted. To start and not finish would be torture. To get caught would be even worse. I vaguely wonder if I’m turning into an exhibitionist: first Mercy this afternoon, and now the possibility of this. Stop thinking, Gem, I tell myself.
Logan’s hand glides over me again, the delicacy of his touch turning me on even more than if he were rubbing harder. “I love feeling how warm you are,” he murmurs, looking at me like I’ve put him under some sort of trance. His eyes dart from my mine to my lips and back again. Then he smiles at me; a sexy, seductive, dimple-inducing smile, and I’m decided.
Simultaneously, I sink lower onto his hand, inviting more of his touch, and I crush my lips against his. Logan responds instantly by pulling at my dress, removing the barrier that it’s causing between us. I tilt my hips forward, rubbing myself against his prominent erection, before my hands travel south, hurriedly undoing his belt and pants. I unzip him with a mixture of care and haste, before plunging my hand into his briefs to free him. Underneath my dress, Logan pulls my panties to one side; we simply don’t have the time or the patience to remove them properly. I place his seeping tip at my entrance and fully intend on sinking onto him slowly, sensually, but Logan has another idea. Grasping my buttocks, he pulls me forcefully towards him, spearing me, internally hitting the perfect spot. I call out in pleasure, my nails digging into his shoulders.
Holy fuck!
He gazes up at me with wild eyes, his breathing ragged. He’s set the pace, and being only too happy with his choice, I begin riding him quickly, bringing my hips to meet his with keen enthusiasm. I close my eyes to better feel him. Fuck, he’s so hard, so big, so perfect.
“Logan,” I mewl. I arch against him, letting my head fall back as he buries his face into my chest, his groans muffled. His hands squeeze my backside tightly and I let out an airy moan, trying my best to keep my voice low. I quicken my pace even more.
“Oh, baby, yes!” Logan growls, filling me wholly with each and every thrust.
My orgasm is imminent, I’ve never come so fast in my life. Nor have we ever had sex quite like this, so erratic because we’re on borrowed time, the danger of being caught adding to our erotic buildup. It’s phenomenal! Changing position slightly, I lean against him, towering over him, my breasts bouncing rapidly against his collar bone. I bend my head forward, and catch his groans in my open mouth.
“Baby,” he pants, “I love you so much.”
I don’t have a chance to respond. I hurtle over the edge of the precipice and soar into my orgasm, clutching him to me as if my life depends on it, and shouting loudly. My orgasm renders me momentarily indisposed. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t do anything apart from quiver and whimper. Immediately Logan takes over, his strong hands moving me off of him and then pulling me back. Ah! His continual penetration elongates my pleasure and my moans increase until he comes a few moments later, his body shaking beneath me, and then everything goes still.
I peer over his shoulder; we’re still alone.
“We did it,” I sigh, going limp against his chest. No interruptions, no embarrassment. I’m quiet for a moment, listening to Logan’s hammering heartbeat, before giggles overcome me, and I confess, “This morning this is exactly what I hoped we might do out here tonight.”
He smiles and presses his lips against mine. “This is already the best birthday I’ve ever had, Gemima,” he says quietly.
Good, I think, feeling very pleased with myself. “I love you too, Logan,” I finally say. “I didn’t have enough time to say it,” I grin. I ease off of him, but remain on his lap, and as Logan puts himself away, I try to get into a more comfortable position; one which doesn’t burn my inner-thigh muscles so much.
“I figured,” he quips. “No one would go to this much effort if they weren’t in love,” he says, indicating his rooftop present. “It’s spectacular, you’re spectacular, and that,” he refers to our quickie, “is not something I ever thought I’d be doing while waiting for my parents,” he chuckles, sounding gratified.
“Somethings are worth the risk,” I smile.
“I told them that I was coming up here to get changed.”
“You lied,” I giggle. “By the way, if I’d known we were capable of something so good in that timeframe, I would have stopped by your office today instead of going solo.”
“There’s always tomorrow,” he grins.
I shake my head. “You have lunch with your family tomorrow.”
“Will you join us?” he asks me.
“Baby, I don’t think I can,” I sigh. “Amélie’s condition for letting me have this afternoon off is that I write a full project report on implementing this,” I gesture the terrace around us. “She said that she wanted it handed in promptly, and usually that means the next day. I haven’t finished it yet, so tomorrow lunch will be spent working, unfortunately.”
Logan looks confused. “Why would she have you write up a report on it? I would only ever instruct someone to do that if it was relevant to the company, but the Pierson Group doesn’t do landscaping.”
I shrug. “Maybe she’s just being nosey? She probably wants to know exactly how you, the client, received the design. In that particular box of the report, I think I’ll write: client seemed pleased. As a token of his appreciation, he took me quickly on a piece of new furniture.”
Logan laughs at my faux-report, before leaning forward to kiss me again.
A few, long moments later my phone vibrates loudly, causing us both to jump. Looking at it, I see that Amber has messaged and suddenly I remember…
“Oh god! She had her first ultrasound today.” Nerves fill me. Please let the baby be OK!
“Why so tense?” Logan asks, noticing the abrupt change in me.
“It, uh, was during an ultrasound appointment last year that she was told she’d miscarried,” I tell him, and his mouth forms an oh of understanding. I hastily tap my phone, opening the message which it turns out is a video. I tap play and stare down at the black and white screen, trying to make out what I’m seeing. I vaguely wonder if she’s accidentally made this video while her phone was in her pocket, before realising that I’m looking at the ultrasound. “Can you see the baby in there?” I ask Logan, showing him the video.
He studies it for a moment. “That speck, maybe?” he suggests.
I take another look and suspect that he’s right, though I’ve no way of knowing for sure.
Another message arrives from Amber, this time saying:
*My new favourite sound!*
I turn my phone off of silent and replay the video. Immediately tears well up in my eyes, and Logan chuckles affectionately at my reaction. The air around us is filled with the sound of a tiny, flickering heartbeat – the sound of Amber’s baby. It’s strong, fast, loud, and utterly magical.
“Oh, wow!” I cry, wishing that I could be with Amber right now and share this moment with her.
“That’s very cool,” Logan nods sincerely. He looks at me adoringly, wiping away my stray tears.
“I bought her a foetus scope,” I blurt out randomly.
“A what?”
“It’s a little device that looks like a cone, and when you put it against her tummy you can hear the baby’s heartbeat through it. She and Seamus can listen everyday. I thought it might comfort her being able to hear it all the time, especially given what happened last year.” I replay the video and well up again. “I’m so happy for her,” I hiccup.
Logan’s arms tighten around me. He leans forward and kisses my cheek as I continue peering down at the video, enchanted. When the video ends for a second time, I hurried type back:
*Beautiful, enchanting, unreal. I bet you’ve watched it a million times! My new favourite sound, too, doll! Love you xx*
Then I put my phone back on the table and look at Logan.
His light-green eyes survey me softly. “You’re full to the brim of thoughtful gifts, Gemima,” he says quietly, meaningfully. I smile back at him. “I really do love it when you happy-cry, baby,” he tells me for the second time today. “It’s so sweet and endearing and adorable and heartfelt, and it’s an insight into your true nature, which is something truly beautiful.”
“That’s a lovely thing to say,” I whisper against his lips.
“It’s the tru—“ he begins, but I cut him off by kissing him ardently. He smiles into my mouth, before sitting up to kiss me better, deeper, more passionately. I wrap my arms around his neck, my hands tangling naturally into his hair, holding him tightly as our kiss grows. It both satiates me and makes me yearn for more. I am totally consumed by Logan; he is all I can comprehend.
“Shall we make a bet on how long it takes them to notice we’re here?” A familiar male voice whispers from the doorway – a voice that I heard only two days ago over the phone.
A female hushes him and I hear retreating footsteps.
Part of my brain thinks, Huh, they like bets too, while another, louder part thinks, Oh, fuck no! My hands immediately loosen their grip on Logan’s hair and start subtly trying to flattening it down instead.
Logan laughs into my mouth. “Busted,” he breathes, his sweet breath making me feel completely drunk, and his eyes glowing playfully. The sight of him looking so breathtaking calms me. Again.
“I’m not even surprised,” I laugh as well. And I’m not; I knew something like this would happen. In fact I was so sure it would that I probably attracted it to me like a magnet.
“Rupert, stop spying!” I hear Logan’s mother hiss, and I laugh again.
I clamber off of Logan’s lap as elegantly as I can, and straighten up my dress. I plump my hair and hastily grab a spoon and stare at the back of it checking my reflection, hoping that I haven’t gone red and puffy from crying. Logan stands up behind me, watching me with amusement. Regardless of Logan’s calming effect on me, my heart is hammering in my chest.
“Well, this doesn’t work at all,” I sigh, unable to make out a clear image in the back of the spoon. “I’ve seen it so many times in movies,” I tell him exasperatedly.
“You look gorgeous,” Logan tells me, giving me an alluring once-over.
You have to say that, I think. I smile at him despite myself. “You haven’t changed,” I point out. “How are you going to explain that?”
Logan grins at me. “Baby, I don’t think any explanation will be necessary,” he teases me.
I feel myself flush with heat. Deep breaths, Gemima, I tell myself. Embodying my inner-bravery, I take his hand, turn around and lead the way into the apartment. It’s go-time!
