Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace
Time goes by in a blur. Logan and I spend time fortifying the trailer, looking into Apex, and otherwise being jittery, looking out the windows. The more time that passes without the men’s return, the more anxious I get. This is a tactical nightmare. What if they come back with an army? With bigger guns and more people? I mean fuck, I’m a good shot but, like, not that good. And I have to worry about them and the cops?
Plus, every time I close my eyes, I see them . The kids I’ve failed. The kids these fucks have failed.
I’ve started drinking again. I’m currently a little tipsy, sitting on the couch, waiting for someone else to bust through the door. I feel the gun in the back of my pants. Logan doesn’t know I found it, buried deep in his closet. We may have reached the world’s most tense truce, but he doesn’t trust me with a gun.
As he shouldn’t.
Logan messes around in the kitchen.
“Here.” I hear the sound of a plate sliding across the counter.
“Not hungry.” I continue to stare at the door. It’s true. I’m in some sort of limbo, plus my fingers and toes are buzzing. I worked hard to get here, drinking Logan’s shitty whiskey; why would I ruin my buzz now?
“Ronan.” Logan’s voice has a bark to it. “You haven’t eaten in two days.”
Has it been two days? I don’t remember. But he’s being all bossy now, and it makes me smirk.
I close my eyes, tipping my head back. It makes the world spin.
I don’t realize the kitchen has gone silent until it’s too late. There’s a sharp kick at my foot, and I crack my eyes open. Logan stares down at me, looking bored. “Get up and eat. Now.”
I frown. “So bossy.”
He just cocks an eyebrow. “You’ll be useless if you’re drunk off your ass when they come back.”
I close my eyes again. At this moment, I just don’t really care. Which is exactly why I drank so much in the first place.
“Brat.” I hear him walk off, and I sigh. Maybe he’ll leave me alone.
I was wrong. Because when can I be lucky? Logan comes back, and I crack my eyes open right as he shoves a plate into my lap. “Eat.”
I groan, trying to catch the food before it spills. I catch most of it, but Logan has made French toast, and a big drip of syrup has spilled down my hand and onto my sweatpants.
“Fuck!” I immediately shake my hand, but the syrup sticks, dripping down my hand to get caught in the creases between my fingers. It’s sticky, sticky, sticky .
I jump up, shoving the plate of food into Logan’s hands, and dart to the sink, immediately trying to wash away the overwhelming sensation. Logan follows me. “It’s not that hot.”
“It’s not hot; it’s fucking nasty.” I scrub at my skin, still feeling it. It sits like a film, sticking my skin together. It’s ruining my nice buzz.
When I glance up, Logan is watching me with narrowed eyes. It’s like he’s cataloging every behavior, and it makes me uncomfortable.
“Fuck off,” I mutter, pumping soap into my hand.
Logan doesn’t say anything. Instead, he puts the plate of food down next to me, digging around in the ring bowl. He pulls something out. “Eat, and put this on. You have too much anxious energy. The fidget will help. Not the whiskey.”
I glance down at him. He’s holding out the ring with the gears that I took off the day he got shot. I scoff, turning away to face the counter as I dry my hands and grab another glass of whiskey. Suddenly, Logan is behind me, so close to touching me that I feel him all along my back. It feels like he’s touching me, even though he isn’t. He’s full of anger and power. I stiffen, feeling buzzed all over again. Tingles run up and down my back.
“Ronan.” Logan’s voice has a warning tone. “You need to eat.”
“I’m not–”
“Heard you, and I don’t care.” His hand slides the plate of French toast in front of me. “Eat.”
I want to move, but if I do, I’ll touch him. Not only will he feel the gun at my back, but then I’ll have to feel him. I’ll have to feel his hard body with all his muscles and…
“Eat.” The command is a little softer. For some reason, it makes goosebumps run down my arms. Which, what the fuck?
I whirl, facing him. Logan looks down at me because, of course, he’s a little taller than me. His blue gaze immediately locks on mine. He watches me for an unnervingly long period of time. I cross my arms, brushing his chest in the process. “Back off, man.”
His expression doesn’t change. “You’re drunk.”
“Am not.” I’m buzzed . There’s a difference.
Then, Logan steps into me. And instead of the threat of his body, it’s all there, pressing into me everywhere. His chest is firm, crushing my crossed arms and pinning me against the counter.
Anger flashes across his eyes. “What’s your problem, shorty? You’re all murderous one minute, and now what? You’re just gonna let them waste you while you’re drunk?”
“What do you care?” I can’t help the wash of defensiveness that moves over me. Oh, he wants me to care? I do care. That’s the problem, I care too much. I’m trying to stop caring so I don’t lose my shit. Doesn’t he know if I start caring, I’ll stop eating his fucking French toast and fucking wearing his sweatpants like we’re friends? I’ll start thinking about using my gun on him.
‘You could fuck him with it. You know, kinky.’ Buffalo’s voice is garbled.
“Back off,” I shove Logan, but it’s a sloppy attempt. He just pushes back into me, pinning me even harder. The gun digs into my back, and I suck in a breath.
“Make me,” Logan says into my ear. His voice is husky, and heat rushes across my face for some unknown reason. I push back, trying to shove his hips away enough that I can scoot along the counter and get away. Logan just groans, and then his fist is in my clothes, yanking my pants down. It makes the gun clatter to the ground, and for a second, I freeze.
“Oh, you thought I didn’t know about that?” Logan snorts, and suddenly, his hand is around my dick.
“Get o–” I groan as Logan tugs, shooting sensation through me. It seems my dick has been awake for a hot second because it’s already hard.
“Hmmm,” Logan hums, bringing his other hand up and lacing it into my hair. He yanks my head back, exposing my throat to him. “You’ve been getting on my nerves, Ronan Carter.”
Before I can even think about a comeback, his teeth are on my throat, and my brain short-circuits. Logan bites down on the side of my neck, shooting pain through me before he laps it away with his tongue.
My brain registers then, and I buck, shoving back against Logan. I get my hand up to push at his face, but he just laughs, yanking on my hair and pressing even closer. “You just need to be fucking punished; that’s what it is. Fucking brat.”
His hand jerks my dick roughly. The sensation is overwhelming, locking me up every time he brushes the tip. I must be drunker than I thought, and I fucking like it. Note to self: drink whiskey; it makes you gay.
I’ve barely completed that thought before Logan drops my hair to reach behind me. He drops to his knees and my entire body tenses.
“Take your shirt off,” he demands.
“I…” I blink, trying to focus my vision. Is Logan going to suck my dick?
Logan makes a sound of impatience, then puts something down. He rips my shirt cleanly from my shoulders, and I’m standing with my pants around my ankles in front of an annoyingly tall and jacked man. Dick doesn’t seem mad about it though. I feel myself pulse in his big hand.
Logan lets go of me and grabs the item behind me. I focus on him just as he’s twisting the top off something. It’s…a maple syrup bottle.
“The fuck?” I’m starting to scoot away before Logan pours it all. Over. Me. Down my stomach and onto my thighs. It even drips down into my groin and along my dick.
“Jesus, Logan!” I shout, but then his hot mouth is on me, licking up my stomach. He cages me in between his hands, his tongue tracing up my skin. He looks up at me with a triumphant look, pulling away long enough to mutter, “It’s a punishment, Ronan. Not a reward.”
The sticky sensation is everywhere, tracing down my skin and making me want to scream. I drop my hands onto Logan’s head, trying to…I’m not sure. I can’t get too much of a grip cause he still has his hat on, but Logan ignores me. He licks hot paths up my skin, dropping his head down to my thighs, making me suck in a breath. His face is so close to my dick. So fucking close. Against my will, goosebumps prickle over my legs.
“You fucking…maple syruped me!” I’m panting, and I can’t fucking help it. My whole body feels electric.
“Weenie drizzle.”
“What?”
“I prefer to call it weenie drizzle.” Logan grins and goes back to licking me, tracing soft patterns up my skin.
“I,” I’m panting, and I need to distract him. Distract him from how much this is affecting me. “I hate being sticky.”
“Well, you won’t be sticky for long.” He opens his mouth right under my dick, and it feels like my whole body locks up. He looks up at me and smiles, and it feels like the whole world freezes. Logan is under me, his mouth is an inch from my dick, and I’m harder than I’ve ever been.
And then his tongue is on me, tracing up the bottom of my dick. It’s like lightning explodes in all the nerves along my shaft as he traces his hot, warm tongue up me. Then he goes back down, always looking at me. Those blue eyes locked on mine, drinking down my every reaction. And I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m enraptured by the man on his knees in front of me, licking me like I’m his favorite meal.
Logan licks me until I’m trembling, ready to come just from this. Part of me desperately wants him to put me in his mouth. I’m so close to coming already that my brain is all foggy.
Logan must know it because he teases my tip just enough to make a tremble run through me.
“You suffer so sweetly for me.” He grins meanly up at me, and I tense. Then, Logan kisses the tip of my dick and moves as if he’s going to stand up.
“What–” I pant. Is he just going to leave me hanging? Edge me until right before I come and then just…go?
“Hmmm?” Logan looks up at me. “Oh, sorry, did you want to come?”
Heat flushes across my cheeks.
He laughs. The fucker laughs. But then, he strokes his hand up and down my dick, instantly providing relief. I bite back a groan.
“Beg.”
“What?” I snap my gaze to him.
Logan grins. “ Beg. ”
And, to my horror, my drunk brain wants to. Because yes, now I’m drunk. I have to be.
Logan sees my hesitation, and I bark out, “Fuck you.”
Immediately, he loosens his grip on me, taking away the friction I need. I hiss, batting his hand away and trying to do it myself.
“No.” He yanks my hands away, and suddenly, my dick is in his mouth. But he doesn’t suck; instead, he lightly rakes his teeth down it. “Beg.”
‘Do it!’ Buffalo’s voice is in my ear. And he’s screaming. ‘ Are you fucking kidding me? Just do it!’
“I…” I’m caught in the indecision. I can feel Logan’s hot breath on me, and at this moment, that’s all I want.
The word makes it out of my mouth as a breath, “Logan.” There’s a plea in it. A plea that, if I were sober, would horrify me.
Logan smirks, taking me into his mouth and sucking till his cheeks hollow. Just as quickly as the euphoria is there, it’s gone again as he pops off the end. “Yes?”
I’m trembling. I’m trembling, and I can’t stop. “Make me feel good.”
“Not quite begging, but we’ll get there.” Then Logan descends on me. If I thought what he was doing before was good, this is everything . The man sucks my dick with a skill that can only be described as mastery, pulling me back into his throat while his tongue strokes down my shaft. He milks the pleasure out of me mercilessly. I both never want him to stop and want to explode all over him.
Then, Logan takes me all the way into his throat. The way his throat squeezes makes my balls draw up, and in a second, I’m coming with a groan. My entire body locks in pleasure, the orgasm being sucked right out of my soul. I see lights behind my eyes. Logan sucks me then, hollowing his cheeks as I pump into him.
Once the pulses lessen, Logan pops off me. He stops to lick a trail of syrup up my torso, then he’s in my face.
And then he’s kissing me. Logan’s lips are on mine, and he’s biting me. I open to let him in, and my mouth is flooded with salt and sweetness. I gasp, and Logan takes the chance to push his tongue and cum further into my mouth. His kiss is dominating and harsh, and for a second, I fight it. I’ve never had this before. Never had my own cum in my mouth. He mashes his teeth into mine, pushing me back into the counter. I fight for a minute, and then I melt, kissing him back. Logan moans, softening against me. And fuck, if the kiss doesn’t wipe my brain. And then, I’m boneless. I’m boneless and melting into the man in front of me. Logan catches me against the counter, kissing me until my brain is mush.
Finally, he pulls away.
It takes me a second to catch my breath. I’m not sure if I ever will. Because that was the best kiss I’ve ever had.