Blow (29 page)

I couldn’t have wanted anything more.

He said nothing more—I was glad. I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if he had. That’s not true. I would have stayed, because that one glimpse into his eyes told me everything I needed to know. It was an odd mix of emotions I saw there—fear and lust, maybe. Whatever it was, it was enough to make me want to understand him.

Without hesitation, as soon as I stood, he moved behind me and slid my pants down. I shuddered the entire time his hands glided over my hips and down my thighs. When my pants and panties were off, he blew a warm breath in my ear and kissed my neck. I shuddered again. Something about the intimacy of the way he kissed my neck had my stomach fluttering. If I were romantic, which I am not, I’d say that although he was bold with his body, to the point of being unfaltering, he was almost tender, sweet even, with his mouth. It was that whole hot/cold, hard/soft thing I’d pegged him with last night.

Logan glanced around the room. “Follow me.” His voice was just as soft as it had been a few moments ago.

It didn’t bother me that he’d told me what to do; in a way his words had almost been posed as a question, as if he knew I wouldn’t take being ordered around well.

The space was vast but surfaces to fuck on were not. We had the couch, which could work, but it was rather narrow; we had the wall, or . . . I spotted it right away . . . we had the table, and condom in hand, that’s where he was taking me.

Both of us completely bare in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, he led me to the corner table with no hesitation. My breath grew louder with each step. When we reached our destination, I bent myself over the slick surface without daring to look at Logan. It was the position that made the most sense and I really just wanted him to fuck me already.

The heat of his body radiated behind me and I could hear his own ragged breaths. They mimicked mine. I waited for him to touch me with an anticipation that surprised me. With the sounds of our mingled breaths the only noise in the room, I placed my palms flat on the cool surface. Time seemed to take forever to pass. What was he doing? I wanted to look but didn’t at the same time.

Finally, I heard the tearing of paper, the manipulation of latex, and then his hands were on my hips, followed quickly by the warmth of his chest all over my back. The feeling rocketed though me and I felt every muscle in my body clench in need. He felt amazing on my skin. The kind of blanket I never wanted to shed.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His mouth was warm and at my ear again.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the freak-out I was certain my brain would have, but it never came. I was okay with this—with him talking to me during sex. Well, technically we weren’t having sex yet, so maybe that was why.

Gripping the edge of the table, I nodded and spread my legs wider, pressing my naked body farther back against his very ready one.

His exultant groan echoed in my ear, but then his mouth was gone. Luckily, it hadn’t gone far. His teeth began grazing my shoulder and his fingers found my clit at the same time. Twin bursts of pleasure sizzled under his touch. I bit my lip to stop from crying out.

He played with me—his fingers outlined my clit and his tongue moved across my back in slick, steady waves.

“Please.” The faintly spoken word slipped out. I’d never begged for someone to take me, but I was begging him now.

I wasn’t certain he’d heard me, but then the hand that was on my hip was gone and moments later I felt the thickness of his cock between my legs. He pushed into me painfully slowly. I contemplated taking control and slamming myself back, but his hands were on my hips, holding me in place.

With steady movements he eased in and then out again. In, then out. Giving me a little bit more. Going deeper each time. When he was completely inside me, I thrust my head back. “Please,” I repeated, “I need more.”

His low groan was at the sweet spot he’d found behind my ear and as if he wanted to make sure I got just what I wanted, he stood straight and with his hands tightly gripping my hips, he slammed into me. Hard. Slow and easy was gone. Fast and furious took over.

Again, I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out.

It felt so good.

I wanted great.

His fingers gripped me, pinched me almost, as he slammed into me. Still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted him deeper. I wanted him faster. I wanted all of him. He was holding back, I could tell. I needed to feel this. Wanted it so badly, I could taste it like I could taste the blood from my bitten lip as I licked it away.

Feeling unleashed, I fought against his hold on my hips and pushed my ass back. Everything exploded from there. He pulled back and thrust. His cock slid so deep inside me, deep into places I was certain no one had been, and I felt like I was soaring.

My toes curled into the carpet at such an angle they were cramping. My hands gripped the edge of the table so hard that it was cutting into my skin. His fingers were pressed into my hip bones so deep I was certain I’d bruise.

I didn’t care about any of that.

This was the first time I’d ever let myself go. The first time in the twelve years since I’d lost my virginity that I’d even wanted to. That night was a night I’ll never forget, but it was anything but unforgettable. I had two months until high school graduation, until I was free of my father, and still I acted stupidly. I let all the strength I’d built up to guard myself crumble without a fight and gave in to his sadistic way of life.

My father was up to his typical fuckery, but that night the sounds were louder than usual. He was fucking some whore in our living room. He never took his women into his own room. No, they always stayed in the main parts of the house and it was always late at night. I didn’t understand it. We’d moved back to California by then and his room wasn’t the same room he’d shared with my mother. Maybe it was the bed, or the memories. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was used to the endless women, but since my mother’s death he hadn’t been overly vocal, and I’d grown used to that too.

That didn’t mean I didn’t know what he was doing. The occasional “Oh yes” was hard not to hear, and the “That’s it, don’t stop” told me more than I needed to know. Sure, I heard him often enough, but nothing like I’d endured during my childhood. And to be honest, I didn’t care about those women or what he did to them.

Up until that night, the very idea of having sex made me physically ill.

But that night, his grunts and groans turned me into someone else. He was calling this woman Susan. He was begging her to take her clothes off. It was his and my mother’s wedding anniversary and I thought he’d really lost it. What kind of game was he playing with this woman? Her name couldn’t possibly be Susan.

When he said, “But baby, I need to be inside you,” I lost it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Although I knew better than to leave my room, I did it anyway. I was seventeen now. What was he going to do? Whip me with his belt? I doubted it. Kick me out of the house? I could only be so lucky.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I stormed right out my door and right into the living room. I didn’t think about what I’d be walking into. Or maybe I didn’t care. Who knows?

My father was strewn on the sofa with his uniform pants at his ankles and those black tied shoes that echoed throughout the house whenever he walked were still on. A naked woman sat on top of him, facing those damn shiny shoes. He had a nearly empty whiskey bottle in one hand and the woman’s ponytail in the other.

The sight sickened me.

She was riding him but stopped when she saw me in the entryway. “You want to join us?” she purred.

My father jerked her ponytail. “Did I tell you stop?”

“No, sir,” she answered. She was young, not much older than me.

“Did I tell you to talk?” he said, even harsher.

Had he been like that with my mother?

God, I hoped not.

The thought sickened me and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I dropped my gaze and looked away. Wanting to escape, I moved toward the front door on shaky legs. I had to get out of there.

I was almost free when he snapped, “Gabrielle.”

I froze. Even as a near graduate, he still frightened me.

“Don’t be so weak,” he muttered.

“I’m not weak,” I shot back.

He looked at me like he had when I was younger and disobeyed him, like when he’d whipped me with his belt—the same belt that was now at his ankles—and in that moment I
was
weak. However, his words were nothing like the “you will be obedient” speech I’d received with each lashing. No, his slurred words cut deeper than that belt ever had. “You might want to stay and watch to learn a few things from a pro. Being good at sex is the only thing you’re going to have to offer a man.”

Sex. His whole being seemed to be about sex. I hated him. I hated my sister for being weak and leaving me with him. And in that moment, I hated my mother for letting it go on so long. Why wasn’t she stronger?

And what was it about sex that turned him into the monster he was?

With nowhere to go, I ran to one of the gyms on base where I’d been training with a number of new recruits. In the years since my mother’s death, I was determined to be strong. Stronger than my sister or my mother ever were.

Strength wasn’t only physical—I knew that. But I also knew it would protect me. And I needed something to protect me.

The place was open twenty-four/seven and I knew someone would be there who’d want me. That night I picked a man and gave myself to him. It hurt, physically and emotionally, but it was quick. When it was done, I felt more lost than I had before—it meant nothing. I felt nothing. Sex really was meaningless.

Logan’s breath blew warm across my shoulder, and I made myself push that dark and tainted memory from my mind. With him everything felt different. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe, just maybe, sex could be meaningful. Maybe I had been going at it the wrong way this whole time. I had been looking for what it was that turned my father into the man he was instead of allowing myself to figure out what I needed from the act itself.

And with Logan I knew what it was. I wanted to give myself to him and in turn to feel what it was like for someone to give himself to me. We might have just met, we might only be fucking, but we were both pouring ourselves into what we were doing.

Together, we moved with wild abandon; we gave freely to each other. It was the give and take that mattered the most and I loved every minute of it.

Beating hearts with pulling and pushing bodies and ragged breathing was what we were, and I relished in it.

His desire-laced voice whispered, “Let go.”

By the time those two words traveled and his breath blew hot against my skin as his mouth sought out my ear, I was already tipping, ready to free-fall into the pleasure that was building within me. My pulse pounded. My heart beat rapidly. His words pushed me over the edge rather than forcing me to retreat. I even had to bite my lip to stop the passionate cry I felt in my throat.

In an unexpected move, his bare chest met my bare back and he reached for my hands, intertwining our fingers and pulling our connected hands toward our connected bodies. The tenderness of the moment was too much and I couldn’t stop the strangled cry I’d been holding back.

With my eyes squeezed tightly shut, my body took over and I could do nothing but feel. With all thoughts destroyed, I absorbed the delicious fullness of having him inside me. Without warning, an unexpected sensation overtook me. And it didn’t pass. Each joyous beat of my climax drove that glorious feeling of having him inside me higher and higher until I was soaring in ecstasy.

Logan’s thrusts slowed as soon as my pussy began to tighten around his cock. His fingers squeezed mine when his body stilled. His grunting sigh echoed beautifully in my ear as he, too, experienced what we both obviously needed—a release.

He dropped his head into the crook of my neck and for a few minutes, we stayed that way—me cocooned in his warm body bent over the table. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I turned around. Would he run like he had last night?

Once I caught my breath and my legs stopped shaking, I shifted my stance. I didn’t want this moment to end, but I knew it had to. Logan pulled out of me and I turned around. Perhaps conveniently, perhaps not, he twisted to take care of the condom.

I leaned against the table and watched him. I thought about gathering my clothes. I should have been embarrassed standing there naked, but I wasn’t.

He wrapped the very used condom in a napkin and tossed it in the trash can near the bar. Focusing on the task at hand, he slipped into his boxers and started to gather the rest of our clothes. I should have helped him, but something kept me glued to where I stood. I thought now that the act of intimacy was complete and the tension between us eased, he’d just toss me mine.

Imagine my surprise when he crossed the room. That tension that I thought was gone was stronger than ever. We both felt it. I know we did. The draw to touch other, the need to feel each other, to somehow know each other, was stronger than ever. Denying it would be futile.

With the same tenderness I’d felt from him earlier, Logan tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and then shocked me by looking into my eyes. I didn’t know what I saw in this, but I wanted to know.

I opened my mouth to say something. What, I had no idea. Before I could, he broke our intense connection by lowering his lips to mine in a soft kiss. His lips lightly moved against mine. There was no tongue, no clashing of teeth, and still it made me shudder.

When he broke away, he handed me my clothes and started dressing himself. “I need to get to the boutique. I don’t want you to leave and go to O’Shea’s until I’m back. Okay?”

The room smelled of sex; we smelled of sex. We weren’t even fully dressed and he was leaving? I wasn’t needy by any means, but I felt a little disappointed. I stared at him as he shoved his legs through his pant legs. “Yes, of course. We’ll wait for you to get back.”