Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
LOGAN
I t takes more effort than I can believe not to grab her again. Every inch of my body is hard for her, and some inches are goddamn hard, throbbing, aching.
My length presses against my hands, my tip pulsing as precome leaks out of me. It’s too easy to imagine tearing off those hip-hugging pants and laying her on her back, kissing her neck, passionately biting her as I bring my engorged fullness to her sopping entrance.
“I think I might just eat dinner at home,” she murmurs, not looking at me.
“I…” Know that was a mistake , I almost say. But I want to do it again. I need to do it again. I’ve wanted to do it ever since our first kiss . “I understand,” I force myself to say. “That was a lot. I could say I don’t know where it came from, but that’d be a lie. I’ll go pay the bill, and we’ll leave.”
She bites her lip, her cheeks flushed, her eyes containing a mixture of panic and something else. A desire to keep going, maybe. Walking across the restaurant, I don’t think anybody is looking at me. People are minding their own business. But we’re in public. What was I thinking, taking a risk like that?
I settle the bill, returning to the table. Panic grips me when I realize that Piper isn’t there.
“What?” she says when I find her outside.
“I was worried for a second,” I admit. “I thought you were missing.”
“I just needed some air.”
I opened the passenger door for her, relieved when she offered me a smile—a callback to when she said she didn’t need a Prince Charming. She’s letting me be her prince, at least for now, briefly.
In the car, I resist the urge to put my hand on her thigh. She touches her mouth as she stares out of the window. It’s like she’s trying to confirm to herself that the kiss happened, a real-life version of a text delivered notification.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says after a few minutes.
It seems like a clear message. She doesn’t want me to mention the kiss or anything romantic. She wants me to pretend it didn’t happen. I know it’s for the best. But I know something else, too. It hurts.
Soon, we’re outside Elliot’s apartment building.
She turns to me. “Uh, bye.”
What’s wrong with me?
Instinctively, my hand is on her leg. I can’t help it. I sink my touch hungrily into her thickness. She gasps and puts her hand on my wrist. At first, I think she’s going to push me away, but then she tightens her grip and leans forward.
This time, she’s the one who kisses me. She pushes her tongue into my mouth, moaning as she slides her hand from my wrist, gripping my arm. But then her moans turn uneasy.
“I… have to go.”
She runs from the car as if she fears what will happen if she stays. I watch her go, my body blazing, the feral part of me wanting to catch her and drive my swollen rod against the round globes of her perfect ass. There’s another part, though, that wants to hold her, whisper sweet, comforting words, and tell her everything’s going to be okay.
Instead, I wait for her to get safely inside and then drive away.
She texts me when I get home.
Piper: I can’t believe you did that.
Logan: I didn’t plan it. You looked so beautiful. You ARE so beautiful, inside and out. I meant what I said. We’re similar. We’ve got a bond. It goes beyond words, beyond work, beyond books, beyond anything.
Piper: I’m not saying I disagree. But to kiss me in public where anybody might see…
Logan: I know. It was reckless. I couldn’t resist you. You were so tempting. Every moment I’m near you, I struggle to control myself. You make me wild. Unhinged, like I could snap at any moment.
Piper: We have to stop. We can’t do that again. We can’t think about what it would’ve been like to go further, either.
She adds a kissing emoji.
Piper:
I stare at her words and the emoji, and my balls are so full I feel like I’m going to burst.
Piper: That’s bad, isn’t it?
Logan: Bad or not, all I can think about is what it would’ve been like to go further. But first, tell me where you are. Tell me what you’re doing.
Piper: Nothing particularly interesting. You know, just in bed, with the phone in one hand and my other hand, not doing anything.
She knows what game she’s playing. She knows she’s revving me up.
Logan: You make me wild. I thought you were going to hate me.
Piper: I only hate that we can never do that again. We shouldn’t even be texting each other now.
Logan: I know. I shouldn’t tell you that all I wanted was to lift you onto that table, drive my cock against your crotch, let you feel how rock hard you make me. I’m solid right now, Piper. I’m burning for you. So much precome is pulsing out of me for you. I want your body so badly.
Piper: What do you want to do to me?
Logan: First, I want you to play with your perfect pussy.
Piper: Who said I’m not already touching myself?
Fuck.
I rush into the bedroom, lie on the bed, reach down, and slip my hand into my pants. My hardness aches as I stroke myself, caressing my solid desire.
Logan: Tell me what you’re doing.
Piper: What, like, specifics?
Logan: The more specific, the better.
Piper: Okay, well, here we go. (Remember, this is my first time, okay?) I’m rubbing my hand up and down my pussy for you. I’m getting so hot and tingly. I’m touching my clit and waiting for you to send me something else.
I wriggle my pants down, my cock springing up, gliding my hand down to my base and then my tip, spreading precome all over. I know I should stop. There’s a voice in my head, yelling at me to think of Elliot.
But I can’t. Nothing matters except for my Piper.
Thinking of her as my Piper doesn’t seem as ridiculous as it probably should.
Logan: I wanted us to be alone. I don’t want anybody else to see or hear you when you moan and get sexy like you did in the restaurant. Then I would’ve torn your pants down, put you on the table, sunk my hands into your gorgeous legs, and brought my mouth to your aching, wet pussy. I would’ve glided my tongue up and down your lips, then paid special, ferocious attention to your clit.
Piper: Oh my God!
Logan: When I felt you getting even wetter, I would’ve pulled your shirt over your head and torn your bra away with my teeth. Your big, bouncy, perfect breasts would spill free, and that would make me even more crazed than I already am.
Piper: You like how big I am, hmm?
Logan: Like? I fucking NEED your thick, curvy body. Don’t you ever doubt that. Your body is as perfect as your beautiful soul, Hardcover. You better still be rubbing your needy clit for me.
Piper: I am.
Logan: Are you getting hot?
Piper: Super hot. It’s crazy. I keep thinking I’m going to come, but then I slow down. I want to savor this.
Something tells me that savoring this experience isn’t the only thing on her mind. She also doesn’t want to think about the guilt that will undoubtedly follow our actions.
How could I possibly know this?
I feel exactly the same. As I stroke my aching dick, I make my hand slow, savoring each motion.
Logan: Once your horny, perfect pussy is soaked for me, I’ll bring my throbbing head to your entrance, and I’ll push in. Slow, Hardcover. Slow so that we both feel every movement, every moment of pleasure. We’ll sink closer and closer together, and we’ll both feel so damn good.
She replies, and I realize I can’t take it slow anymore.
Piper: And then we won’t be able to stop.
It’s like my hand takes on a mind of its own, stroking up and down quickly, pumping from my slick end to my base and back again. Every inch of my cock is ablaze with lust, my heart pounding, my thoughts clouded. Any guilt I might feel – I should feel – somehow falls by the wayside.
Piper: I’ll hold onto your shoulders tightly. I’ll match your rhythm.
Logan: How close are you?
Piper: So close. You?
Logan: The same. It’s getting more and more difficult to type. Come for me, Piper.
Piper: Only if you return the favor.
Logan: I’m going to. I’m rubbing my dick so hard and fast. I’m going to close my eyes and think about you. I’m going to savor the image of you bouncing enthusiastically up and down as I drive my slick cock inside of your flawless body.
I close my eyes, picturing her in goddamn HD clarity. It’s like she’s in the room with me as I sink into the fantasy, everything throbbing as I move my hand faster and faster. Soon, I feel a hot torrent of release rushing up my shaft.
It erupts out of my end, my tip becoming sensitive, almost like I can feel her slit kissing my dick. I gasp, my hand falling away, a wave of guilt crashing into me, but no less painful, even if I knew it was coming.
Piper: So, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret what we just did?
Logan: I don’t regret it. But I won’t lie. The guilt isn’t fun.
Piper: I completely lost it. From now on, we have to be strong.
I want to tell her I’m not sure I can do that—that being strong with her feels impossible, but she’s right. What sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t even try?
It’s conceivable that we could stop this here, and Elliot will never have to learn about it. I won’t enjoy lying to him, but if we bury it, we can pretend it never happened. We can go on with our lives and maybe live with the guilt. Maybe .
Logan: You’re right.