Chapter Six – Logan #2
A few songs pass, and eventually I spin Wren around so that her front is against mine.
We’re on the outskirts of the dance floor, not quite surrounded on all sides by other people, but it’s hot, and her hair is getting messier by the minute.
She already looks undone, and we’ve only danced together.
I can’t help but wonder just how undone she’ll look when she’s under me, squirming and writhing while I show her exactly how bad I can be.
Wren tilts her head back, her dark eyes meeting mine.
She’s slow in lifting her hands and setting them on my chest, all the while moving with a cautiousness that tells me she’s not used to this sort of thing.
From underneath those eyelashes, her expression says more than words could, and for some reason, my grinding on her slows to a halt.
And then, strangely, I swear it’s like everything stops. The music. The crowd around us. Everything. The look she gives me, the way her lips part, how her hands rest on my chest… even the way her body fits against mine. But it’s mostly the look. It’s the look on her face that makes everything stop.
I don’t think anyone’s ever looked up at me like that before.
The girls I’ve been with were full of lust and desire, forthcoming in what they wanted from me, what they wanted me to do to them.
Some of them may have hoped for more, that they’d be able to take off my mask and get to know the real me, but none of them ever did—and those that I was with when I was not in my stage clothes and my mask, well, I was never interested in becoming anything more. I never wanted anything more.
But, fuck, the look on Wren’s face makes me wonder if wanting more isn’t something to run from.
A stupid thought, because I don’t know this girl, but that thought is suddenly inside me all the same.
My hands on her hips roam her body, moving upward, and they stop only when I cup her face.
All the while, she never stops giving me that damned look that tugs at something inside me I swore never existed.
I have to lean at an ungodly angle since she’s so short, but I manage to take her lips in mine and kiss her hard.
It’s not like I moved fast. She had to know what I was doing, what my goal was. Still, somehow she acts surprised when my mouth meets hers, and it’s a few moments before Wren starts to kiss me back.
I’m not someone who likes to go slow. I’m a hard and fast kind of guy, and I kiss like I fuck: like an animal, in other words. I take what I want, even if it bruises. I don’t think she’s used to kisses like mine, and it makes me wonder just what kind of guy she’s used to being with.
Boring ones, probably, guys that’ll never match up to me. I’ll ruin her typical type for her. I’ll make this good girl a bad one.
When I pull my mouth off hers, both of us breathing hard, I crack my eyelids open to find her eyes are still shut. It’s only when her eyelids lift that I say loudly, in an effort to talk over the music, “You want to get out of here?” I don’t know if she hears me or not.
She must, or she must guess what I said, because she gives me a single nod.
That’s all I need. I take her by the hand and lead the way. We zigzag through the club, around the people, and the moment we step out into the cool night air, Wren sighs and mutters, “Wow. I didn’t realize it was so hot in there.”
We turn right and follow the sidewalk until we hit a parking lot, and I bring her to my car, keeping a firm grip on her hand while I grab my keys out of my pocket to unlock it.
Honestly? A part of me half expects her to change her mind now that we’re not in the club—I may be many things, but I don’t force things like this.
Nobody’s ever changed their minds when they’re about to be with me, but they do say there’s a first time for everything.
After my car is unlocked and I open the passenger door for her, I spin her around and push her against the car, just beside the open door, pinning her with my lower half. I’m still very much sporting a hard-on; my dick is going to be raging with need until we get to my place.
I tower over her, taking her head in my hands again, much like I did in the club, only here and now, there’s nobody but us. Nothing but the gentle breeze of the cool night air twirling around us, cooling down the hot blood that pumps through our veins.
“Are you sure you want to be bad tonight?” I ask her as I lick my lower lip. Those lips of hers were soft. I’m dying to kiss her again. For some reason, this girl I know next to nothing about is driving me batshit crazy.
She doesn’t respond right away. It’s like she’s really taking her time in thinking about it, and her silence makes me doubt. But, eventually, she whispers a soft reply, “Yes.” Just one word, and it’s really the only word I need to hear.
No sooner is the word out of her mouth when I bring my lips to hers once again, kissing her harder than I did in the club—and because we aren’t surrounded by music so loud it pounds in your bones, I’m able to hear the soft moan that escapes her when I run my tongue over her bottom lip.
A soft sound that goes straight to my cock.
If I wasn’t already hard as steel, that sound alone would be enough to set me off.
Fuck. Better stop kissing her here, or I’m liable to fuck her here and now.
Though it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, I pull my mouth off hers and growl out the words, “Then let’s get the hell out of here.
” I help her into my car before heading to the driver’s side.
When I start the car, I notice she’s messaging someone.
I can’t see the name. “Don’t tell me little miss goody-goody has a boyfriend. ”
“Oh… no. I’m just messaging my roomie. I came to the club with her and her boyfriend.”
I can’t deny the relief that floods me. Listen, I’m not a good guy. I’m absolutely sure I’ve fucked some girls who’ve been in relationships before, but for some God forsaken reason, I think I would’ve gone nuts if Wren would’ve told me she has a boyfriend.
No. Tonight she’s all mine, and I plan on making the most of it. Whatever she’s trying to forget or move on from, I’ll play my part like a master. I’ll help her. I’ll help her so hard she’ll forget her own damn name.
I don’t live far. I’m renting a small house by myself a good five minutes away from campus—like hell would I ever share a fucking house with strangers.
It might be a waste of money, but it isn’t like I’m poor after all those years in Black Sacrament.
We were doing pretty well there for a while, and I’m still getting royalties from all the songs I’m in.
I can practically feel Wren’s nerves the entire drive. She doesn’t say a word. She’s nervous. Anxious. I bet she’s the kind of person who overthinks everything, basically the opposite of myself. I’d rather not spend hours thinking about something when I can just do the damn thing.
Pulling into the driveway, the girl beside me sucks in a hard breath. “Do you… do you live with anyone?”
“Nope.” As I say it, we both get out of the car. She walks around it and joins me as we head to the side door. “It’s just me, myself, and I.”
“You rent this house all by yourself?” She sounds impressed.
“Yeah. Believe it or not—” I unlock the door and step inside, holding it open for her. “—I don’t like most people, and they don’t like me.”
Wren wrinkles her nose as she glances around the dark house, and then turns those brown eyes to me. “That’s not surprising. You, um, don’t seem like a people person.” The way she says it makes it sound almost like an insult, but I only chuckle.
She can insult me all she wants. She’s still here, so what does that say about her?
After I shut the door, I slip off my shoes, and she does the same as she says, “Are you a senior or something?” Trying to make small talk, get to know me, before we get down and nasty. She’s got a lot to learn.
“Are you here to talk, or are you ready to be bad with me, Wren?”
She swallows so hard I can hear it, and she must gather her courage enough to say, “I’m ready to be bad.”
My chest rumbles with a sound that’s damn close to a growl, and I grab her, picking her up and holding her against my chest. She gasps, clearly not expecting it, but after a moment she relaxes and wraps her arms around my neck.
I kiss her once, twice, three times before I carry her through the house, up the stairs, to my room.
We pass the room that’s become my own little studio.
Guitars, mainly. Acoustic and electric.
Turns out, you can kick the singer out of the band, but you can’t kick the band out of the singer. Haven’t really touched any of that stuff, but… I still needed to bring it. It’s a part of me I can’t let go of, not yet.
I carry Wren to my bedroom, where I drop her on the bed. She lets out a cute oof when I drop her, and she sits on the edge of my bed, suddenly looking worried. “Do you have protection? I’m not… I’m not on anything.”
I tug off my shirt in one fluid motion. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”
Though it’s dark in the room, my blinds are open, and the moon is damn near close to full. The moonlight shining in gives enough light for me to notice the way her eyes dip to my stomach, how she takes in every inch of my torso.
“Like what you see?” I ask with a smirk as I lean down over her.
I know what I look like. I’ve got all the muscles the girls go crazy over. A sleek six-pack. Well-defined arms and pectorals. I might put a lot of shit in my body sometimes, but I also take care of it to make sure it stays looking good.
She doesn’t say a word. Instead, she raises a hand and touches me. She moves her hand along my body, running those fingers over my chest, down to my stomach, along my abs. The way she touches me sets my skin on fire—it’s like she’s exploring, taking her time. Like she’s never done this before.
But that’s a ridiculous thought. A girl doesn’t lose her virginity to someone she met at the club, right?
I’m not sure how I feel about that possibility. On one hand, it’s kind of hot to know you’re the first. On the other, it’s a lot of pressure. Granted, I’m the type of guy who rises and never lets the pressure bring him down.
There’s no way this girl is a virgin. She’d tell me. Warn me. Chicken out or something.
I let her explore my upper half to her heart’s content, and then I reach for her shirt, tugging it up and over her head.
The next thing that comes off is her bra, and I toss that to the floor near her abandoned shirt.
She’s not huge in the chest department, but they’re round and perky and calling my name all the same.
My mouth meets hers the same moment my hands cup her tits.
I push my tongue into her mouth as I tweak her nipples, and she moans into the kiss, falling backward.
Her nipples respond to me instantly, becoming hard points, so sharp they could cut glass, and only when I’m satisfied with their pointed sensitivity do I drop my hands to her leggings.
I have to pull my mouth off hers to yank them off, and my cock strains against my pants, knowing I have a naked girl on my bed.
How long has it been? A long fucking time. Too long. I can’t even remember the last time I had a good fuck.
Of course, that’s not saying much, since sometimes I overdo it to the point where I don’t remember much of the night before.
I played nice. I tried to lay low, hoping I’d eventually be welcomed back into the band, but that day never came, so what was the point of me being good?
It wasn’t long before I fell back into old habits.
Drinking too much. Smoking questionable things.
Having threesomes with girls I didn’t know the names of. The list went on and on.
So, yeah, Wren wanted to be bad tonight? She found the right guy. Don’t know of anyone else around here who can scratch that itch like me.
I help Wren move so that her head lays on my pillow, and I crawl onto my bed, positioning myself on top of her.
My pants are still on—the aching cock in them reminds me with every move I make—but the moment I take them off is when I slip on a condom and fuck this girl so hard she forgets her own name.
For now… she explored me, so now it’s my turn to dive deep into her.
I trail a line of kisses down her body. Over her collarbone, to her chest, where I take one nipple into my mouth and use my hand to toy with the other.
She sucks in a hard breath, stifling the moan that threatens to come out of her, and I tear my mouth off that nipple to tell her, “You don’t have to be quiet here.
If you want to be loud, be fucking loud. ” I like ‘em loud, anyway.
After that, she doesn’t try to silence herself. When I make her feel good, she makes it known.
I shower her tits with plenty of attention before I travel even lower. Down her stomach, to that sweet space between her legs. I push her thighs open wider, giving me ample enough room to make myself at home near her apex.
Men who refused to eat pussy weren’t really men at all. When you do it right, there’s nothing better. Plus, it makes them so goddamn wet.
There isn’t an ounce of hesitation in my body as I lower my mouth to her. This time, when my tongue slips out of my mouth, I run it along the side of her clit, my goal to swell that sensitive nub of flesh until every flick of my tongue on it sends her into outer space.
Wren moans when I suck her clit hard, and it doesn’t take long for me to learn what she likes.
What gets her going. What makes her squirm and squeeze her thighs around the sides of my head.
Every so often I dip my tongue lower, run it around the rim of her pussy, before I return to her clit.
It’s not long at all before she loses it.
Might just be a record for me, actually. The quickest orgasm ever, but that only makes it hotter.
Fuck. I’m going to enjoy this too much.