Blow (38 page)

Logan didn’t need me to point out which one was Lizzy.

Her red hair gave her away.

While we were eating, he had filled me in about what the day had brought. Like him, I was certain the woman Declan had mentioned had to be my sister. I just wished I knew more.

“It was the only picture I could find,” I told him. I was on my phone searching for other photos of my sister on Michael’s Facebook page—Lizzy didn’t seem to have one—and as far back as I went, I still found only that one picture of her in some group shot with a bunch of people. I had no idea who they were. I found it really odd and it was bothering me.

“The one you sent me was fine—don’t worry about finding another. If Declan finds anything out, he can just point to her in the group photo.”

I didn’t like it. I wanted a picture of just her. I zoomed in on her face and cropped the picture and then texted it to Logan. “There. Just her.”

It made me feel better to be reassured Declan would be able to show Lizzy’s picture. It made her more identifiable.

Satisfied, I swallowed one last bite of deliciousness before I pushed my plate away and watched Logan across the table.

“What?” he asked, catching my gaze.

“So help me out—you did or you did not grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth?”

His laugh sounded anything but genuine. “Hell, no. I did not. The Ryan name has so many strings attached to it. Even my mother avoided it for as long as she could.”

“What do you mean?”

“My old man says she was different when they were younger. She didn’t care about what her father thought or the money or the differences in lifestyle.”

“What changed her?”

“Life, I guess. Growing up. Marriage. Having to pick what mattered more. Who knows? Don’t get me wrong: as a child I never wanted for anything, but between my gramps and my father, they made sure I understood money—and Ryan money in particular—wasn’t all there was.”

“I guess that means I can’t call you Richie Rich?” I joked.

Logan rose and prowled over to me. He put a finger to my chin and lifted it. “You can call me anything you want—when you’re naked.”

My body jerked when his skin came into direct contact with mine and my heart leapt at the desire in his eyes.

We’d both come so far in such a short period of time—I didn’t cringe or shut down when he talked to me in that sensual tone of his, and he was now able to look at me during sex. I didn’t know what that meant; all I knew was that I wanted to find out.

My gaze swallowed him whole. He was wearing a pair of nylon track pants and a beat-up old T-shirt, and to me he looked just as yummy as he had in his suit.

I wanted to eat him up, and this time I planned to.

Goal clear in my head, I stood up.

Without thought, we automatically drew closer. His hands slid beneath my arms to rest at my waist and his fingers splayed around my slight curves. His cock pressed hard against my belly.

Heat that had nothing to do with the fire roaring beside us flamed within me.

“Take me to bed,” I told him.

He didn’t hesitate. In one fell swoop he scooped me off my feet and tossed me over his shoulder.

My laughter was loud as he strode across the room. “Not like that.”

He was laughing too as he kicked the door shut behind him. “This was faster than carrying you any other way.”

No doubt about that. I was already on the mattress and lying on my back.

He positioned himself on top of me, propped up on his arms.

I reached up and tangled my fingers in his hair. “But not very romantic,” I whispered.

Lowering himself slightly, he just barely covered me with his body so he could kiss me on the mouth. “I’ll work on that,” he murmured, his voice sounding so damn sexy he could have said anything and I would have been fine with his answer.

It wasn’t like I was really looking for romance—I was only kidding.

Moments passed, seconds, maybe minutes, I wasn’t sure. I felt like I could have kissed him forever. My hands were running along his body. Searching. Exploring. My fingers traced the edges of his shoulder blades, felt the way his muscles flexed under my touch, cupped his ass.

In a way I didn’t understand, we just fit together so well. He was hard where I was soft. Tough where I was weak. Straight where I was curved.

My hands still on his ass, I urged him to sink farther between my legs. He gasped out a curse and the sound didn’t bother me in the least. If I thought about it, I rather liked it. His muttered curses told me just how much he liked what was happening between us. This was consensual. We both wanted to feel the pleasure that was only just starting to take root. The electricity that was sparking in small fissures and promised to turn into bolts.

When he obliged, I could feel his hard cock throbbing even through the fabric of our clothing. Seeking more, my hips tilted upward, and that’s when he practically tore my clothes off.

I attacked his clothing with the same energy.

We were both naked within minutes.

Skin to skin.

And his was smooth.

So smooth.

His body was beautiful. Maybe even perfect. If I could have spoken, I would have told him so. I tried a few times to say something as his mouth began to slide down my body, but I couldn’t.

When he took my nipple between his lips, I gave up. I let myself go. He was what I needed. When we were like this, we were in a bubble, and all the troubles of the outside world faded away.

The thought struck and I couldn’t push it aside. Was I a distraction for Logan? If I was, did it matter? Or maybe, just maybe, it was the reverse and he was a distraction for me. Again, it didn’t really matter. We’d agreed to take the ride, but neither of us had agreed to stay on and neither had agreed to get off.

I should have told him the rest of my secrets, but I’d told him enough for now.

I inhaled sharply as a tingling radiated from my core.

Soft, velvety smooth strokes lapped around my clit.

Oh God, that mouth.

That tongue.

The feeling was so intense, my fists clenched the sheets and I moaned from the sheer pleasure that was slowly sweeping through my body.

Wanting to see him, I glanced down. The dark fringe of his lashes brushed his skin just before his eyes lifted to mine.

They were so dark in the light of this room, the rims of brown so much more noticeable. It was as if his eyes were dilated with passion. I’d never seen eyes like his, ever changing based on his mood. They were a dead giveaway to his feelings, a weakness I wondered if he even realized.

I let go of the fistful of sheets in my hands. We all had our weaknesses after all, and he was slowly becoming another one of mine. I slid my fingers into his hair to tangle them around his locks. His hair was the perfect length to thread my fingers through.

Lowering his head, he parted my legs and dove inside me with thrusts of his tongue that made me feel like he couldn’t get deep enough.

The sound he made when my hands gripped his hair even tighter was almost primal. He slid a finger inside me, then another, and worked his tongue in conjunction with his fingers.

My body tensed as tiny flames of pleasure flickered from my core. My senses intensified.

His touch was hot.

His breathing sounded ragged.

And his lips were deliciously wet.

I started to pulsate everywhere.

Wait.
I wanted to be the one doing this to him. That was my plan. How had he taken the lead? Remembering one of the positions from my computer screen earlier, I rose on my elbows. “Logan,” I said, my voice hoarse, uncertain. “I want you in my mouth when I come.”

Simple words to describe the act, but still they felt like they weighed a thousand pounds as they expelled from my mouth.

He looked up at me with the same uncertainty that had bled through in my words.

But I was certain. Telling him was the difficult part. I gave him a reassuring nod that let him know—yes, I wanted this.

Without hesitation, he shifted his body.

His warm breath was gone and I mourned the loss on my flesh, but soon enough his knees were at my ears. He took his cock in his hand and I gasped at the eroticism of it. I craned my neck up to catch it with my mouth, but he lifted higher.

“Just watch me.”

“I want to taste you.”

“No, I want you to come,” he said. His voice was so hoarse I could tell he must have been fighting against his own release.

I stared up at him in awe as his fist closed around his cock and he started pumping it. I was fixated on the movement. Spellbound at the simple beauty of his cock as he glided his hand up and down it. But then his tongue was inside me again and from a different angle, it was so much more intense. Probing and searching for my pleasure was what I felt he was doing. And he was doing it so well. It felt so good and even though I wanted to, I couldn’t hold on any longer. I had to let myself go. My head tipped and I arched my back as I started to ride the wave of my orgasm.

Logan didn’t stop, though—he pumped his cock while he continued to lick, suck, and kiss all of me until another orgasm hit immediately after the first. This time, my toes curled as an exquisite sensation overcame me, rocking me unlike anything I’d ever felt before. And in that single moment of ecstasy, my body trembled as it came alive under his touch and I cried out louder than I ever had with what could only be described as pure, undiluted pleasure.

Logan had let go of his cock to use both of his hands and I took the opportunity to reach up with the tip of my tongue and lick him.

“Oh, fuck.” The sound roared through the room.

In a roll that I’m not sure if he initiated or I did, I was on top looking down at him.

He grabbed my hips and tried to pull me toward his mouth.

That wasn’t what I had in mind.

My head fell and I started slow, swirling my tongue around his tip before sucking on it. At the taste, I realized how hungry I was for him. I licked every inch of him. When I sealed my mouth over him, he groaned and bucked up. Sure, I’d done this before, but never in this position. Always the guy’s hands were on my head to guide me.

I didn’t need that with Logan.

His body’s response was enough to guide me.

Each time I moved, I took him as deep as I could and each time he hit the back of my throat, he groaned. My mouth sucked, my fingers stroked, and my lips moved in all the ways I could tell he liked.

“Oh fuck. Just like that. Just like that,” he muttered and it didn’t scare me, it thrilled me to hear the pleasure in his voice. His muscles started to shake when my tongue revisited his tip. As I traced a path around the moistness already beaded there, he shuddered and tugged on my hips, quickly rearranging my body and pulling me up to him.

He was back on top of me, his eyes searching mine.

I was okay. I swallowed, my throat tight, my heart still beating madly. He was silently telling me that he wanted to be inside me. I could see it in his eyes.

I wanted that too.

Logan didn’t say anything, though. He just reached between us and brought the tip of his cock to my entrance. We wanted each other so much. We were insatiable, and each time seemed to be better than the last.

Oh, God.

My fingers curled around his biceps and as he slid farther inside me, the blunt tips of my nails dug into his skin.

He thrust into me without resistance.

I looked at him as he looked at me, and he slammed inside me so hard, I cried out in ecstasy.

We fucked like that more than once in the next few hours. I had a fleeting thought that he was marking me, claiming me, making me his. This was something new. No one had ever wanted me like he did. The intensity of the gestures themselves gave me butterflies. And I knew they were butterflies.

With that thought in mind, I was equal parts scared and thrilled.

I was scared because I knew things were happening too fast. Too much was going on in our lives for us to get wrapped up in each other. Yet, at the same time, I was thrilled because I had never felt so worshipped.

It had to be close to midnight before we were lying on the bed facing each other.

“You okay?” he asked with a grin.

I swear I blushed. “I think you know I am.”

I’d cried out in pleasure so many times, there was no way he didn’t know how sated I felt right now.

“You’ve only ever had one boyfriend?” he asked.

The question caught me off guard but didn’t throw me. “Yes. Just the one. Charlie.”

His body stiffened and I wondered if he was jealous. He had no reason to be.

“Charlie and I were best friends. We talked about everything. Liked the same things. Did everything together. But sex wasn’t what our relationship was about. It was a passing act and that’s why, at the time, I thought he was perfect for me.”

Logan seemed to be thinking.

“And you, how many girlfriends have you had?”

Still lost in his thoughts, he mindlessly answered, “Just the two. But I’m not sure you could call them that. I never put a label on either relationship. I preferred not to.”

Interesting. Relationships were never his thing either.

I ran my finger up the scar that marred the inside of his thigh and then over the one under his eye. “These are from him. Both of them, aren’t they?”

He nodded.

Neither scar stole away from the beauty I saw in Logan, but I knew they must have been constant reminders to him. My fingers found his and I squeezed them tightly. “Logan, nothing is going to happen to me.”

He drew in a sharp breath as if he wasn’t so certain.

“Why can’t the police take care of Tommy? You could go to them and tell them what happened to you years ago. Couldn’t they use that for Peyton’s case and maybe arrest him?”

He bristled. “It doesn’t work like that. Not in our world. There is too much corruption in the BPD, and too many bad guys on the streets. Too often, innocent people end up getting hurt.”

It was all a little surreal.

Logan’s real world was like a TV drama.

The thought saddened me. I kissed the scar under his eye. It was a part of him. Who he was. And no matter the healing, the scar left behind, the depth of the wound was deep. I knew that now.