Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Raging on a Sunday - Bohnes
Of course, the only logical solution is to deck Logan. It’ll get rid of my boner and teach him to mock me. I want to swing, but he’s already moving away.
“You stink.” Logan starts moving the medical supplies to the counter.
What? No I don’t. I’m pissed and in pain and confused as hell. Why does he care about that right now?
“Shower, now.”
My head is still reeling. Why in the fuck did he just clean my cuts? I thought I was here to die.
Logan gives me a pointed look.
Covertly, I take a sniff. Okay. Maybe I do smell a little. That’s not my fault. I mutter, “Well, maybe if you didn’t drug and kidnap someone, they wouldn’t stink.”
“You expecting an apology?” Logan turns around to look at me.
I glare at him. “Are you sorry?”
“Nope,” he says with a pop of the p, then turns back around. “Get up. I’ll get the water started.” Then, he disappears down the hall.
I’m alone. Alone with what I thought was impending death. Why hasn’t he tried to kill me yet? What does he want from me?
Whatever it is, he’s not gonna get it. I’ll kill the motherfucker the second I get the chance.
I shuffle up, eyes locked on the knife block. But my feet are tied so tightly that I can barely move, so I shuffle infuriatingly slowly. When I’ve made it to the kitchen, Logan pops his head around the corner. “Let’s go.” He looks me up and down.
I glare at him, the bottoms of my feet hot from the friction of shuffling. “Wanna untie me so I can go faster?”
Logan pretends to stare at the ceiling. “Hmmm. No.”
If I could get my hands locked around his throat, I fucking would.
It takes an eternity to make it down the hall. As soon as I enter the bedroom, I hear the water coming down and see the steam. Suddenly, a chilling thought fills my head: he’s gonna kill me in the shower. It’s easier to clean up.
Logan beckons me closer. “Let’s go, you’re slow as fuck.”
“No.” Logan doesn’t have any weapons on him that I can see.
Logan snaps his gaze up to mine. I’m standing frozen in the middle of the room. At first, his gaze is annoyed, but then it softens slightly. “Just a shower, Ronan.”
Right, like he didn’t just feed me my last meal and tell me the couch was too messy. The overwhelming instinct to run rushes through my body.
“Jesus,” Logan mutters, then sucks in a breath. He holds out his hands like he’s trying to approach a wild animal. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Yet?” I snarl.
He shrugs. “Yet.”
“Then let me go in there alone.”
Logan raises his eyebrows. “So you can break the mirror and slice my neck with the glass? So you can crawl out the window and call the cops? I think not.”
“You can’t just…watch me!” Panic is running freely now.
Logan takes a step toward me. “Can and will. Thought we’ve been over this before.”
“Get away.” I back up, but he’s on me in two steps. I swing, but he ducks and gets behind me, snatching up my arm and locking it behind my back. “Walk, princess.”
I try to fight him, but Logan just yanks up on my arm, shooting pain through my shoulder and forcing me to move.
“Fuck you,” I snarl, but before I can get away, we’re in the bathroom. Mostly by his sheer force and not by my shuffling. The movement opens my cuts again, making me hiss in pain.
The steam gets caught up in my lungs, making me cough. Then, there’s a tugging at my shorts, then they’re ripped from my body, the fabric shredding.
“What the fuck?” I ask, but my boxers are gone just as fast. And suddenly, I’m standing there naked, pieces of clothing around my ankles.
Logan lets me go, shoving me toward the shower. “Get in.”
I whirl, covering my junk. Logan just leans back around the counter. The bathroom is basic and small but decorated just like the rest of the house. There’s even a small plant in here. But I don’t see a gun or a knife.
“See. Not gonna kill you.”
My gaze darts to Logan’s waist. I know just how easily he could be hiding a weapon. Logan catches me scanning. He lifts an eyebrow, then slowly lifts the hem of his shirt, exposing a flat belly and abs. Fucking abs.
He turns slowly, letting me scan his waistline. “Good, princess?”
“Your pockets.” I glare at him.
He shrugs and, before I can say anything, slips his pants off. I’m left staring at a very naked Logan with a very big dick. He’s not fully hard, but even so, he’s longer than I am. And fuck, I know it’ll get even bigger when he gets hard.
His dick twitches, then I jerk my gaze back up to his, my face heating.
He just smirks. “That’s my only weapon.”
I snap my mouth shut, then whirl on the shower. At this point, the shower is less uncomfortable than standing here with him there, both naked.
Getting into the shower becomes an issue. There’s a lip that I can’t clear my feet over. Before I can troubleshoot it, warm hands grab under my arms from behind and lift me in.
I yelp, immediately shuffling away and almost slipping, but catch myself on the ledge for soap. In the process, I bare my asshole to the man behind me.
“Easy.” Logan chuckles. “Not quite old enough for a life alert button.”
“Just…” I recover, turning to face him so he can’t see my ass, then immediately regretting it cause he can see my dick. “Go away!”
Logan smirks, the shower door still open. “I’ve seen your dick before. Remember? You came all over my hand.”
“I will fuck you up.” I start toward him, and Logan just steps up into me. Even with the slight lift from the shower, he’s taller than me.
“You will? Do it then, short fuck.”
So I do. I feign a punch with my right hand, then swing one lower with my left. It connects with the shower door before hitting him, greatly lessening the impact. Logan just laughs, ripping off his hat and stepping in the shower with me. He shoves me back.
I fall on my ass, unable to catch myself. The impact knocks the breath out of me, and Logan immediately steps over me, his dick in my face. I scramble back, but he just follows. His dick is fully hard now, and it smacks me in the side of the head.
I look up, blinking away the water as it streams down both of us. Logan’s pupils are huge. “You look fucking good under me.”
I struggle to get up, but Logan just steps over me further, so I have to press into the back of the shower to prevent his dick from touching my face.
His dick. His veiny dick that’s throbbing inches away from me. It makes me want to run. To fight. To do anything but focus on what’s happening right now. So, I snarl, “I’m not short.”
Logan chuckles, reaching his hand out to stroke his dick. I watch it go up and down the shaft, curling over the tip and then up and down again.
“You’re what? Five ten? On a good day?”
I want to get up, but there’s nowhere to go except into him. “Move.”
He just continues stroking. “Get me off, and I will.”
“What?” My question is loud, panicked. He wants me to do what?
Logan’s voice drops an octave. “Get me off, and I’ll move.”
“Make me.” The snarl comes out of me, and I stare up at him. He’s blocking the water from my face, and I should be cold, pressed into the cool wall, but I’m hot. I’m hot all over. My skin is burning, and my face is on fire.
“Make…you?” The way Logan’s lip curls in disdain makes me want to hurt him. So I snatch his dick in my hand, squeezing as hard as I can and yanking, digging my nails in as I do.
Logan throws his head back and groans, thrusting his hips into me. “Fuck yeah. Hurt me.”
I tighten my grip, digging my nails in at his base so hard I know I’m drawing blood. Suddenly, Logan’s hands are in my hair, and he’s yanking. He jerks so hard that tears well up, and I grit my teeth. I yank my hand down his shaft again, ripping into Logan’s skin. He lets out a grunt, yanking my hair so hard I feel it rip.
“God, you’re so perfect. Show me how much you hate me.” He thrusts his hips into my face, and his dick mashes against my mouth. The impulse to put it in my mouth and bite it off fills my head.
“If you bite me,” Logan reaches his hand down and pinches my nose, “I’ll choke you with it.”
I jerk my head away from him, and he lets me, laughing a little. “Keep stroking, Ronan.”
I squeeze him as hard as I can, jacking him so hard I know it hurts. It has to hurt. I’m basically punching him every time I hit the base.
Logan doesn’t seem to mind, though, which only inspires me to try harder. I grip him at the base, taking my fingernails and raking them over the head. Logan’s whole body jerks, and he yanks my hair hard.
“Easy. Get me off, Ronan. Don’t rip me off.”
“Fuck you.” I snarl, easing up a little on the nails but keeping them scratching up and down his tip. The more I ease up, the more his grip on my hair loosens. Then, when I accidentally stroke him without nails, he massages my scalp.
“Good boy. That’s a good boy. You’re getting it.”
I snarl, going back to clawing him, and there’s a warning yank on my hair. “No. Stop throwing a fit; you were doing so good.”
It’s then that it hits me that I have another man’s dick in my hand, and I’m making him tremble. He’s lightly thrusting into me, his breathing heavy over the sound of the shower. I risk a glance up, and Logan’s eyes are on me, bright with lust. His mouth is open in a pant, and he’s looking at me like he’s hanging onto my every movement.
An odd sense of power rushes through me. I’m doing that to him. I am . I have my captor hanging on my every movement. I have all the control in this moment. Me. I realize faintly that I’m also hard, my dick throbbing against my stomach.
I keep stroking him, maybe with a little less nails and a little more of a rhythm. I want to make him come apart. I want to have that control. I want him to crumble for someone who hates him. I don’t know what I’m doing with another guy, but I know what works for me. So I do that.
“Yes, yes, fuck . Just like that.” Logan’s whole body shakes. “Fuck, make me feel good.”
“Shut up,” I growl, but I can feel that he’s close. His dick gets harder, and it’s filled with tiny pulses. I take a risk and grab his balls with my other hand, squeezing them hard enough that I know it hurts.
“Fuck!” Logan’s balls draw up, and then he comes. He moans, jetting all over my hand, coming onto my chest and the wall behind me. I jump, trying to get out of the way, but it still streaks all over me.
“Fuck, Ronan.” Logan’s breathing is heavy.
Immediately, I drop him. I yank my hands back, unsure of what to do with them.
I just…did I just get a man off? I suck in a shuddering breath. What did I just do?
“Move.” My voice comes out shaky, and I immediately say again, louder, “Move!”
Logan takes a step back, and the warm water washes over me. It makes me feel like I’m drowning. I need to get away. I need to breathe .
“Here.” Logan reaches down to help me up, and I swat him away.
“Don’t touch me!” I get onto my knees and use the ledges in the shower to pull myself up. “Get away, don’t touch me.”
Logan steps back, but I refuse to look at him. I refuse to look at what I did. I can’t believe I just did that. And with what? Very little fight?
My parents' words come back to me. A sin. Unnatural. Wrong. Despite the fact that I don’t give a fuck about their opinions anymore, my face burns. “You said you’d get out.”
Turning my back to Logan, I grab some shampoo and lather it up.
There’s no movement for a second, then I think I hear him step out. I wash my body, ignoring every bit of the other man in the bathroom. But when I’m rinsing my hair out, I peek at Logan.
He’s standing in a towel, arms crossed, looking at me with an expression that almost seems…hurt.
Why in the hell is he hurt? He’s the one who forced himself on me .
I turn away again. I can’t do this. I can’t believe I did this. I need to get away.