Chapter Twelve
Twelve
Logan
The first thing I hear when I open the door is an unexpected, “Logan!”
I figured he’d be hiding in his room, avoiding me. Even when he’s not doing that, I’d typically find him on the couch. Not standing a few feet away from the entrance—and while I was a bit startled, it looks like he’s mostly scared himself.
I push on the door behind me until I hear it click shut. He’s in the middle of the living room, directly in front of me, so I’m sort of forced to stay where I am. “Hey.”
His mouth opens and then just hangs there.
He’s wearing a giant, ugly as hell Christmas sweater that I’ve never seen before, and what I’m guessing are a pair of hidden shorts.
But for all I really know, he could be wearing nothing underneath his sweater.
It’s so fucking big it covers half his thighs.
And it’s out of season. Christmas was a month ago, but even if it were tomorrow, this is not at all the kind of thing the Baby I know would wear.
“You alright?” I ask and feel a knot form in my stomach before he even answers.
I don’t think I am, but I hope he is. He was gone when I woke up, and it felt pointed. It’s why I went to work on my day off. It didn’t stop me from thinking about him all day. I left home tired as hell, and the constant barrage of thoughts about him was the only thing that kept me awake.
On top of my own mind torturing me, there was also a lot of teasing from the crew—a whole discussion about the bruises on my neck. They said I looked like a leopard. And those were just the marks from him sucking. The bite marks, those were deemed the handiwork of a vampire.
It made it hard to focus on the job, which made the work hard, so all in all, my day was awful.
And it’s all his fault. I’ve never been so certain that a boy needs a good spanking.
He sighs, crossing his arms and only looking more on edge. “I’m sorry.”
I watch his face as he starts stressing at my silence, and all the while wonder what exactly he’s sorry about. I can’t even remember what my reasoning for wanting to slap his ass silly was.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t know what I did, but—”
“Nothing,” he insists. “You didn’t do anything wrong.
” But the crease in his brows does tell me something wasn’t right.
“Not anything I didn’t want. I was the one who—I shouldn’t have…
” He huffs and puts a hand over his pinkened face, revealing five naked fingernails—not only not pink, but no polish on them at all.
Seeing that is a first for me. “I just shouldn’t have.
” He leaves it at that as his palm slides over his features, and I’m once again left wondering what it is he’s referring to exactly.
“So, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve… any of that. Sorry.”
“Please stop saying that.” It sounds wrong, and it makes me feel even worse.
I knew he’d been drinking. I should have ended things before he got uncomfortable.
There’s more to be said and understood, but he’s nervous right now.
A jittery mess standing a few feet away from me.
It makes me want to grab him, but I hold back.
If he were someone else, I’d press the issue, but he’s my Baby and—
Well. Not mine. He made that clear last night.
It’s hard to think around him lately. It’s been hard to think all day, especially. I need to talk about it, but I know him well enough to know when to shut up. I get more out of him when I don’t force things.
“Saying what?”
He’s so visibly distressed, worried that he said something wrong, that I can’t help but smile.
“Sorry,” I elaborate. The word is losing its meaning at this point. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Well… I am anyway, Logan.” He switches from shy and timid to snarky right before my eyes.
“Geezus.” He sweeps his hair back, and it’s the first time I notice how frizzy it is.
“I’d stop saying it if you’d forgive me already,” he snaps, and I raise a brow, not able to keep my crooked smile from growing.
“Please,” he adds with way less attitude, once again calming down and looking sheepish.
I wonder if he ever gets whiplash from how quickly his bratty side pops in and out like that.
I laugh, reaching for him without thinking. By the time I have an arm wrapped around him, it’s too late to back out. I’m giving him a hug, and he can simply deal. He’s stiff in my arms, but I only squeeze tighter, pulling him close so I can rest my chin on his head. “I forgive you.”
He blows out a breath that seems to take all the tension he’s holding in with it. “Thank you.” The words are muffled against my chest as his arms slip around my back. He gives me a squeeze of his own, but tries to end it too soon. “Let go now.”
I ignore him—partly to mess with him, but mostly because I just don’t want to. Not yet. I don’t release my arms even when he tries pushing at my stomach. He laughs against me, and all that sound does is ensure my arms stay locked.
Until he bites me.
I hiss, grabbing his shoulders to hold him back.
The smirk on his face tells me exactly how happy he is with himself.
“I did tell you to let me go.” He tries to shrug, but my hands are still gripping his shoulders.
“Besides, I thought you liked a little teeth.” His smile widens, just enough so that he can bite his bottom lip, and I finally release him.
“I have to take a shower.” A cold one. A flirty Baby isn’t something I know how to handle, and after last night, I don’t think I should even try.
“Okay,” he carefully murmurs as I step around him. “Do you want to watch a movie with me when you’re done?”
“Always.” I don’t realize the weight of what I said until it’s already done. Besides, I really do. And right now, I think some normalcy would do us some good.
“You can pick.”
I turn around, stopping before I get to the hallway. “You never let me do that.”
Shy looks adorable on him, but as someone who knows him, the offer is concerning.
Just when I’m about to ask him if he’s okay, he gives me a piece of his usual self and says, “Fine. Last time I try to be nice. You have horrible taste in movies anyway.” He bounces over to the couch with a flair that I recognize, and it helps alleviate some of the worry in my gut.
“Baby, we could watch a ninety-minute slideshow of literal piles of dog poo, and it would have the same effect as whatever lame eighties movie you’re gonna pick.”
He flips me off, giving me one more peek of the lack of color on his nails before I walk away.
∞∞∞
Dolly Parton is on the screen when I finally return.
“This movie is sad,” I complain as I sit on the couch, making sure to give Baby his space. “It—”
“You don’t want to sit by me?”
I look at him, the hurt in his voice stealing mine altogether. “I was… my hair’s wet.” He doesn’t like it when it drips on him. Even without the threat of water droplets, he usually makes me sit on this side. “I figured you’d tell me to move if I got too close.”
“Hmph.” He slumps back, but the explanation clearly did nothing to reassure him.
It’s more than a little confusing. Very unlike him. That and the sweater, the nails, mussed-up hair… all of it’s giving me a headache. Just where the hell is my little vampire?
“Baby, do you want me to sit by you?”
“Didn’t I just fucking say that?”
I think I’m remembering why I wanted to spank him. In fact, I can think of a few good punishments that would be perfect for him. “Um, no. You did not.”
I could tie him up.
“Are you deaf? I literally did.”
Deny him…
“Well, I must be, because I did not hear all that.”
But spankings are a must—very much a necessity.
“I’m just doing what you trained me to do, Baby.
” Sitting next to him usually only happens after he’s told me to plant my ass a full couch cushion away.
I try, he tells me to move, then we talk and laugh, and somewhere in the middle of all of that, we end up scooting closer to each other. I simply skipped a step tonight.
“Whatever,” he gripes, and the laugh that pushes past my lips is more air than noise. He stands up and doesn’t even get one step away from the couch before I’m yanking him back. He falls onto my lap like a ragdoll, compliant in a way that doesn’t match all the attitude he’s got goin’ on.
I hold him there quietly, an arm wrapped around him and his arms while my free hand stays locked around his wrist. I expect him to fight me, to elbow me and try to wriggle away—tell me not to touch him like he does nearly every other time I do—but he doesn’t do any of it.
He’d be such a good boy if I tied him up, I know it. It makes some people nervous, but with him, I could see it settling him.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I tell him, because truthfully, I don’t. “You usually make me move when I get too close. How was I supposed to know any different?”
His hair smells so good, like a muted honey. It smells exactly how it looks, and it’s a very inconvenient time to be noticing it.
“Yeah, but… you didn’t even try to sit by me this time.
” He sniffles, and the sound of it has my mind going still.
Every thought just halts right where it is at the threat of him crying.
“You said I had no reason to be sorry, but you’re acting like that’s a lie.
If I’m supposed to believe the things you say, you have to mean them, Logan. ”
“I did mean it,” I speak carefully, but lose the will to do so a second later. “You’re being weird.”
He doesn’t say anything, probably because he knows I’m right. He has to at least feel weird, sitting here in a sweater that’s about four sizes too big for him.
“It’s because of what we did, right?” I don’t fully know how or why, but I know I’m right.
When I’m met with another unspoken confirmation, I figure it’s a good time to clear the air.
“I get it. But if you’re worried about me, about having done something I didn’t like, you don’t have to be.
That’s never something you have to wonder, Baby.
If it wasn’t something I wanted, I’d tell you. ”
“Then… did you like it?” he speaks softly, scared if I had to guess.
“Your mouth wrapped around my cock?” Being blunt has worked for us, and I’m hoping it continues to do so. I’m certain it would work better if he were a little more forward himself. “I loved it, Baby.”
“Even though…” He swallows loudly, and I wait anxiously for another clue to help me piece together whatever mess he has swirling around in that head of his. “So we can do it again?”
I know that’s not what he wanted to say, but I also know it’s too good an offer to ignore.
“Anytime you want.”
“Oh.” He shivers, the gentle vibrations traveling down his spine until he’s craning his neck back to look at me. The angle is off. I have to hold him up, push him off of me enough to fully see those pretty eyes of his. “Right now?”
I should be surprised, but mostly I’m just ready.
I take one breath before I give in. “Not in here.” Cade and Nic may be cool that they sometimes—or more likely, unaware that they—have an audience, but I’m not. An audience isn’t something I’m down with.
“My room,” he decides.
I’m nervous all of a sudden, unsure of myself and whether or not going through with this is a good idea.
I’m usually confident in this area, but I’ve also never been so close to someone who has worked so hard to be distant with me.
Throwing sex into the mix is blurring those lines he’s tried so hard to paint.
To be honest, I’m a little embarrassed at how excited I am.
My cock is beginning to stiffen at just the promise of his mouth on it.
I don’t have to worry about that for very long, though—he’s just as eager as I am.
His slim hand takes mine once I let him up, and I’m left grinning at the way he doesn’t even wait for me to stand before he’s trying to drag me out of the room.
I’m moving to the foot of his bed as soon as his door is shut, but he doesn’t let me get that far. He’s once again feral, stopping me from moving at all as he falls to his knees before me. I can’t really do much apart from watch him.
Baby wants my dick in a way no one else ever has, and he makes that crystal clear.
It looks like the physical embodiment of need as he presses his face against my crotch, audibly trying to breathe me in.
His lips feel for my cock, mouths along its length until he’s licking the fabric over the tip, and I just stand there dumbly the entire time.
I’ve always been grateful for the blowjobs I’ve received because I can tell that it’s just that—a job. Even when the girl on her knees was a little more into it than typical, it wasn’t something I saw as anything more than an obligation, and that made me the thankful one.
But right now, watching my little vampire suck on my sweats until there’s a visible patch of his spit and my precum, it’s more like I’m fulfilling dreams. I don’t even have a chance to feel undeserving—too busy being worshipped.
I hook my thumbs over the elastic of my pants and get them maybe an inch down before Baby is taking over with an impatient grunt.
He sits on his heels and waits with his lips parted until I’m free and bouncing against my abs.
His eyelashes flutter as his tongue flattens over the underside of my cock, trailing it up and over every ridge and vein with a guttural moan until he stops at the frenulum to give it a sloppy kiss.
I expect him to take me into his mouth then, put me out of my misery, but it’s his hand that wraps around me instead.
His lips move lower, still kissing. I’m close to begging when he starts to stroke, and the added sensation of his mouth on my sac has me groaning.
“Fuck.”
He blinks up at me with glazed eyes while his tongue swirls around and between my balls, each one being given the kind of attention they’ve never before received.
His hand releases me to push at the bottom of my shirt, and it leaves me staring down at the most erotic sight I’ve ever been lucky enough to see—a heavy, aching cock resting on Baby’s rosy cheek as he suckles at the base.
“Baby?” I push his hair back and almost lose all sense at the unobstructed view.
His teeth graze my sensitive skin, and a warm shudder rakes up my spine.
“Fuck.” I can’t stop saying it. “Baby,” is all I can manage before I have to catch my breath so I can say what I really want to. “Open up.”