Logan (Federal Protection Agency #9)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Clay

With Jason’s suggestion in mind, I took a break from studying the next day to call Logan earlier than normal. It was Saturday, and he had the day off, so I got up early to call him around the time he usually woke up.

As expected, he answered my call right away.

“Clay. You don’t usually call this early. Is something wrong?”

His voice was rough and heavy with sleep. The sound of it sent a pleasant shiver up my spine. I could easily imagine waking up to that voice every day, but I was getting ahead of myself. We still lived in separate states and hadn’t even slept together properly yet. It was too soon for me to be thinking about the rest of our lives.

“I just wanted to make your morning a little better.”

I could see on the screen of the video call that he was still in bed. His hair was a mess, and the sheets were tangled around him. He must have immediately reached for the phone when he heard the ring and not even bothered to sit up first.

The smile he gave me was soft and warm. “Getting to hear your voice when I first wake up already makes this a great morning. Hopefully, I’ll eventually be able to wake up like this every morning.”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was thinking about ‘the rest of our lives’. As soon as he realized what he’d said, Logan looked embarrassed, but didn’t try to take back his statement.

I didn’t draw attention to it either.

“So, did you have any good dreams about me?”

Logan choked on nothing and started violently coughing. From that reaction alone, I suspected the answer was “yes”.

Then, when he reached for a glass of water sitting on his bedside table, the bed sheets shifted and revealed an obvious tent in his pajama pants.

Now I knew I was right. He had dreamed about me.

It had been four months since our relationship turned sexual, though everything was still done long-distance over video-calls. I was getting used to it and was no longer wracked with guilt and confusion every time I found him attractive.

Just the thought of some phantom version of me visiting him in his dreams sparked my own arousal.

“Looks like I was right. You did dream about me. I can help you with that.”

Looking down at himself, Logan didn’t bother trying to hide his arousal. It was too obvious.

Though he still blushed.

“What did you have in mind?”

His voice was even rougher than a moment ago.

I wanted to hear him moan with that gravelly voice.

“First, get rid of those pants. They aren’t hiding anything.”

He immediately did as I said, and I was soon greeted by the image of him lying naked across his bed.

I glanced toward my own bedroom door, double-checking that I’d turned the lock. We would all be humiliated if Jason or Patrick interrupted us.

Whenever our ‘video dates’ turned sexual, I was usually the one to call the shots. I found a lot of pleasure in getting to be the one giving the orders for once, and Logan definitely enjoyed it as well.

This time was no different.

My breath caught in my lungs as I watched his hand slide down his stomach before curling around his cock.

“Tell me about your dream.”

His hand stuttered and he lost the rhythm of his strokes.

“What? Now?”

“Yes, now. Keep going, but also tell me what you dreamed about.”

His hand started moving over himself again, but his strokes weren’t as smooth as they’d been before.

“You were sitting on some sort of throne.”

“Oh?” I already liked where this dream was going, and I slipped my own hand inside my pants.

Logan’s eyes squeezed closed, and his hand sped up a little more as he fully fell into the memory of the dream. “Yeah. I was kneeling in front of you, and you...” He gasped, and his face burned such a bright red I was afraid his bed sheets were about to catch fire.

“Go on,” I encouraged when he didn’t continue. “What was I doing?”

The hand that wasn’t on his cock clamped over his mouth like he wanted to silence himself, but we’d already learned that he couldn’t resist when I gave him a direct order, and moment later he was talking again.

“You were holding onto a chain that was attached to my neck.”

“Ooh, kinky.” My own cock was demanding attention now, and I started stroking it in time to Logan’s movements. “Is that the kind of stuff you like?”

“I didn’t used to.” He moaned as pre-come began to coat the head of his cock, then turned his head to look directly at me. “The devil made me do it.”

He knew how much I liked it whenever he compared me to demonic imagery. It was so different from all the things I’d been called in the past and felt like I was forging a new identity.

I bit my lip as my legs squirmed under my sheets. “So, I’ve got you chained and kneeling at my feet. Then what do I do with you?”

“You-you… I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” I insisted. “Tell me. What did I do with you?”

Logan didn’t usually put up any protest to my orders. For him to deny me now meant that the dream must have been particularly embarrassing.

That only made me more eager for the answer.

“You…” He hesitated one last time before giving in. “You were wearing these really tall boots, and you made me unzip them with my teeth.”

Just the memory of the dream was enough for his cock to visibly throb in his hand. I knew he liked the way my legs looked in the tall boots I’d worn before, but I hadn’t realized how much.

I still had those boots. I’d have to get them out again for another video date.

“Was that it? I just made you take off my boots.”

He was too overcome by the pleasure running through him to talk anymore. All he could do was shake his head and mumble a few incoherent words.

I was also on the verge of losing my own composure and gripped my cock a little tighter to try and calm myself down.

“Come on, Logan. Tell me. What did I do next?”

The rest of the dream all came out in one long ramble as Logan started to stroke himself even faster.

“You made me kiss all the way up each leg, from ankle to hip. I wasn’t allowed to miss a single inch of skin or else I’d have to start all over again.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud, even as my own orgasm was quickly approaching.

“You really do like my legs, huh?”

He just bit his lip and nodded.

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know,” he shouted. This time his denial didn’t sound like embarrassment, but frustration. “I never found out what happened next. That’s when I woke up.”

“Ugh, really?” My back arched as a particularly strong wave of pleasure washed over me. “We didn’t even get to the good stuff. Well, I can fix that. Close your eyes and picture your dream.”

He did, and I could tell he was close just from the breathy little sounds he made.

“Imagine, after you finish with the second leg, I hook it around the back of your neck and pull you closer.”

He groaned, clearly liking the image I was painting.

“I grip your head with both my hands and draw you up into a firm kiss. It steals the air right out of your lungs, and you’re left panting. Then, before you can catch your breath, I shove your head down between my legs and tell you to get to work.”

That was all it took. Almost as soon as the words left my mouth, Logan’s back arched drastically off the bed, and he came with a strangled shout. The sight of him, literally writhing in the throes of his orgasm, drove me over the edge as well. I buried my face against my pillow as I came into my own hand, desperately hoping the walls of Jason’s house were thick enough to block the sound.

Logan and I lay in our respective beds, over a thousand miles apart. Not for the first time, I wished I could reach through the screen and wrap myself around him. His scent and the feel of his skin already felt like distant memories, and my heart ached over the empty place at my side where he should have been.

“Damn, baby,” Logan gasped when he could talk again. “Just when I think you can’t surprise me anymore, you prove me wrong.”

“That should be my line. I didn’t know you were into the kinky stuff.”

He was still so flushed from his recent orgasm that it hid his embarrassment. “I didn’t used to be like this. You just bring it out of me.”

Even just a few months ago, I would have worried that I was somehow corrupting him, but now I took it as a compliment. Logan wanted me so much that his very sexuality was warming to accommodate his desire.

After we’d calmed down, we talked for a few minutes before eventually hanging up. I promised to call him later, but I wanted to spend a few hours volunteering at Dominic’s place now that I had a free day.

After showering and getting dressed, I headed downstairs to find Jason and Patrick both in the living room watching the morning news on the television.

“So,” Jason said as soon as I stepped into the room. “You and Logan talked?”

His grin was so smug, there was no question that he knew what we’d done.

Damn his house’s thin walls.

I just grinned back at him. “Yeah. We talked.”

Patrick said something, probably chastising Jason for teasing me, but I never heard what he said.

At that moment, I happened to glance at the news story playing out on the television and my whole world froze. A man stood on a very official looking podium, talking to a bunch of news reporters, while a small group gathered around behind him. I couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but everyone wore solemn expressions.

One person among the group stood out to me in particular, standing just behind the person talking.

That face.

I knew that face.

Someone started screaming, and I bit my lip until it bled. Our captors hated it when we screamed, so I’d learned to keep myself quiet.

Hands reaching everywhere.

Tugging.

Pulling.

Always hurting.

I needed to stay quiet, or it would just hurt more. Some kids learned that lesson, and some never did. The ones who didn’t learn, didn’t survive.

I was good.

I was smart.

I stayed quiet, so I would live.

All the while, that familiar face hung in my vision. The expression was always somber, even when it was laughing at me.

Even when it hurt.

No, wait.

I was in Jason’s house. There was no reason to stay quiet now. If I wanted to scream, I could scream.

I tried, but there was suddenly no air in the room, and I clawed at my own throat as I tried to breathe.

How were Jason and Patrick breathing when there was no air?

Everything around me went dark. This wasn’t the same as slipping into the Midnight Zone. When I was in the Midnight Zone, it was always pleasant. I felt nothing and wasn’t even aware of my own body.

This was the exact opposite. I was hyperaware of my body, as if the very blood in my veins had been replaced by barbed wire.

Other people were screaming now. It wasn’t fair.

Why were they allowed to scream when I had to remain silent?

I wanted to scream too, but there was no air and I couldn’t make a sound.

The last thing I felt was pain in my knees as they hit the floor.