Chapter Five
“So my sister can pick me up but not until Monday. Is it alright if I stay until then?”
Logan didn’t respond for a second.
“If not, I can book a hotel,” I added quickly.
Sure, a hotel would expensive and wipe out all the money in my bank account, but if Logan didn’t want me here, I couldn’t argue.
It was totally understandable if he didn’t want to share his home with a nineteen year old girl who had…
kind of acted like a crazy nymphomaniac.
Why had I done that? Why had I acted like that? It had felt so good in the moment, but —
“What are you talking about? Of course, you can stay,” he said, earnest eyes meeting mine.
I let out a sigh of relief.
“I was just about to head out to buy groceries, if you want to come along?” He nodded at the front door.
“Oh. Sure. Let me get my things and I’ll be there in a sec.”
After grabbing my phone and wallet, I got into Logan’s truck.
The drive to the nearest supermarket was only five minutes, but neither of us spoke the whole time, so it felt like a century.
I rested my head on my palm and looked out at the passing parks and pretty streets.
I didn’t mind the city, but when I imagined the kind of place I’d live for the rest of my life…
well, it was a small town that looked a lot like this.
At the supermarket, Logan grabbed a trolley and glanced at me. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Do you like pasta?” I asked. “I can cook.”
His brows jumped up. “You don’t have to —”
“Please. It’s the least I can do. So. Pasta?”
“Sure. Pasta’s fine.”
I pressed my lips together. I’d show him a pasta that would be way better than fine . I dropped cherry tomatoes, feta cheese, and chicken into the trolley. We also grabbed some snacks, and Logan picked up another tub of strawberry ice-cream, shooting me a cheeky grin.
Later, after loading the grocery bags into his truck, we were just about to climb into the vehicle when a voice yelled out.
“Logan!” A woman with flowing black hair walked over, the heels of her boots clacking against the pavement. She shifted her designer bag back to rest against her elbow and placed a hand on Logan’s arm. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you?”
Logan smiled at her, and my stomach dropped.
“Good, thanks,” he replied. “How’s the PTA?”
“Oh, you know.” She waved a hand, then caught sight of me, scanning me from top to bottom. “Who’s this? I didn’t think you were a cradle robber.”
Logan’s cheeks went pink. “No,” he hurried to correct her. “No, it’s not like that. This is Willow. She’s a…a friend of Tim’s.”
The woman’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I was only teasing,” he said, slapping Logan’s arm. “And how is Tim?”
They spent the next five minutes talking about Tim’s college experience and the woman’s PTA meetings and pilates classes.
The woman didn’t ask me a single question, and with every passing second, I disliked her more and more.
Not only because she was rude, but because I could see the way she looked at Logan, and…
Part of me felt silly. I barely knew him. I had no right to feel possessive. But I was. I was possessive of his blushes and smiles. I thought they’d been specifically for me, but no. It was clear he gave them away like they were free candy on Halloween.
Finally, the woman walked away with a wink and a wave to Logan.
“That was Sheree,” Logan said after he’d pulled out of the carpark.
“Okay,” I said, looking out the window.
“She — she’s not…” he cut himself off, and I didn’t bother asking for the rest of the sentence.
We returned to the house and put the groceries into the fridge and pantry.
Logan made a cup of coffee and mumbled something about catching up on paperwork, disappearing to his home office at the back of the house.
An hour before dinner time, I started cooking pasta.
When it was finished, I knocked on the door of his home office and let him know the food was ready.
He looked startled, like he’d momentarily forgotten I’d been in the house.
We sat at the kitchen island together.
“Wow,” he said after taking a bite. “That’s good.”
“Better than ‘fine?’”
He nodded. “Definitely.” He took another bite, swallowing quickly. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a meal cooked for me. Thank you. It’s delicious.”
I spun spaghetti around my fork, seeing an opening. “You haven’t…dated?”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t, not while I was busy raising Tim.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t want to introduce him to a woman if there was a chance it wouldn’t work out.”
“But Tim’s at college now,” I pointed out.
“Guess I just haven’t had the opportunity.”
I laughed. “Are you kidding? That woman, Sheree, looked like she wanted to eat you up alive.”
“She’s just a friend.”
“Yeah, a friend who wants to fuck you.”
Logan made a startled noise.
“Come on, don’t act surprised,” I said. “You have seen yourself, right?”
He looked like he wanted to hide in his bowl of pasta. “Okay, Sheree has dropped a few hints. I’m not that oblivious. But I’m not interested in her.”
“Why not?” She was objectively pretty. And she was age-appropriate. I, on the other hand, was twenty-four years younger than him. The fact made me frown at my food.
“I’m just not,” he said. “I don’t want her the way I —” he cut himself off, his cheeks turning red.
It was clear he didn’t want to keep talking about it, so I let it drop, and we finished our meals in silence.
“Ice cream later?” Logan asked as he loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher.
I nodded. “Sure. I’ll just have a shower first.”
I loved the story of Vanity Fair , but that evening, I couldn’t pay attention to the film.
Logan was sitting at the other end of the sofa, and I couldn’t stop watching him in the corner of my eye.
I watched him lick ice-cream off his spoon and remembered the feel of his tongue against my skin. Against my clit. He’d swirled circles —
He paused the film and turned to me. “You hate the movie.”
I blinked, suddenly ripped from my thoughts. “What? No.”
“You’re frowning.”
I realized I was. “Oh. I guess I’m just distracted.”
“Distracted by what?”
I laughed softly. “You don’t want to know.”
Something in his expression changed. He inched closer. Like me, he’d showered and changed into pajamas, and the top few buttons of his top were undone, which meant I could see the hair that covered his chest. “Try me,” he said.
I looked at the bowl in my hands. The light pink ice-cream was starting to melt, but I didn’t have much of an appetite.
“I was thinking of last night,” I admitted in a small voice.
“I can’t believe we did…that…then just spent all of today pretending nothing happened.
I keep thinking about it, but you act like you couldn’t care less. ”
Logan huffed softly, shaking his head.
“What?” I demanded.
“I’m surprised I seem nonchalant. Because I’ve been a mess. I had to hide in the office just to get away from you, Willow.”
“Great,” I muttered.
“I spent the whole day half-hard,” he said. “I’ve had two showers today. Two . Just to — to give myself some relief.” His eyes fluttered shut. “This morning, when I woke up to you next to me…I wanted to…”
Something inside me lifted. “What?” I asked, my voice something barely above a whisper.
“See it from my point of view,” he said quickly, as if needing to explain himself. “You were naked from the waist down. I wanted to kiss you awake. And I wanted to eat your pussy again. I…” — he swallowed, a noise that sounded way too loud in the otherwise silent room — “I wanted to fuck you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“And,” he continued, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “I wanted to hear you call me…Daddy…again.”
“We could have done it again,” I said quietly. “We could’ve done all of that.”
He shook his head. “It would’ve been wrong. I told you this morning, you’re too young. Besides, you’re Tim’s ex-girlfriend. It’s wrong on so many levels.”
“Who cares?” I said.
“Who cares?” he repeated, looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Ask anyone —”
“No one would have to know,” I interrupted. “It’s no one else’s business what we do. We’re both adults. This is your house. No one has to know.”
He stared at me, silent for a moment. “I can’t take advantage of you.”
“I want it, Logan. I want it so bad.”
His eyes met mine, dark and intense, and the next thing I knew, I was flattened against the sofa, and he was on top of me, lips against mine. One of his hands shoved my shirt up and squeezed a breast as he groaned into my mouth. “God, Willow. Do you know how much I’ve been holding back?”
“We could’ve been doing this all day.” My voice was close to a whine.
He pulled himself off me, and I immediately missed the feel of his lips. He tugged at the hem of my top. “Take this off.”
I did as he asked, while he pulled my bottoms and panties off, chucking them onto the floor like they were a nuisance. I immediately used my bundled up shirt and bra to cover myself, but he shook his head. “Let me see you.”
So I dropped the remaining clothes onto the floor. I was stretched out beneath him, completely naked. His gaze raked over me like I was a feast and he hadn’t eaten in a hundred days.
“Perfect,” he said, his calloused hands grabbing my boobs. “Perfect tits,” he murmured. “So fucking soft. Will you let me suck them?”
“You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy,” I whispered.
Logan froze, and for a second, I felt self-conscious. He’d wanted me to call him that, but maybe he found it weird —
“Fuck,” he said, grip tightening on my tits. “Love it when you call me that. Say it again.”
“Daddy,” I murmured. “Daddy.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Keep calling me that and Daddy might come in his pants.” The hungry look in his eyes…
it was like he was a completely different person from the blushing Logan I knew.
He lowered his head to my chest. “Daddy’s going to suck these titties now, okay?
Daddy’s going to suck very hard and it might leave bruises, but you can take it, can’t you? ”
“I can take it,” I said.
“Good girl,” he said before his mouth latched tightly around a nipple, his fingers pinching the other one. He sucked the nipple until it was a stiff, almost sore peak, before moving onto the next one, and I had to slap a hand over my mouth to stifle my moans.
“Get up,” he said afterwards. “Climb into Daddy’s lap.”
I obeyed, and his hands immediately landed on my ass, his blunt fingernails digging into my flesh. “I can feel your cock poking me, Daddy,” I said. Even through the pajama pants, I could feel how hard he was. “Are you going to put it inside me now?”
“Later. First I want you to put your tongue in my mouth while I play with your cunt.” His filthy words sent a shiver through me. “Let Daddy feel how wet you are.”
Part of me wanted to complain because I ached to be filled up, but I did as he asked.
As we french-kissed, his fingers dipped low and teased my drenched opening.
Sometimes he’d push a fingertip inside of me, just for a moment, before pulling it out before I could really enjoy it.
He’d tap my swollen clit or draw slow circles, and soon my legs were shaking, my entire body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
“D-Daddy,” I moaned, feeling half delirious. “I…I need your cock inside me now.”