15. Logan
FIFTEEN
LOGAN
It’s been a long day.
From the early morning flight to catching up with everyone to giving myself blue balls, I’m exhausted.
Truly, I’ve been looking forward to this dinner with just the three of us and then crawling into bed in my hotel room and passing out.
Savannah and Max sit across from me at the table.
Max has been talking a mile a minute, recapping the day.
I like his energy. Really, he’s every coach’s dream.
He’s excited, works hard, is good at what he does, and gets the job done with a smile on his face.
It’s Savannah I can’t keep my eyes off of, though.
While Max goes on and on about the routines he saw today and the disaster of the one fall we all saw but pretended we didn’t, I watch Savannah.
She picks at her food while she listens to Max.
Every few minutes, she’ll peek up at me and quickly look away when she sees me already looking at her.
I wish I could get her alone again. I hope I didn’t make her uncomfortable earlier.
That hadn’t been my intention. I really just wanted to get her to relax, but it may have worked a little too well if what she said when she left the room was true.
Now, all I’ve been able to think about all day is her wet pussy and how badly I’d love to feel it for myself.
Fuck.
I have to stop thinking about it.
Savannah shifts in her seat as if she can read my thoughts.
She’s my athlete. I’m her coach. I cannot be thinking about her like this.
To be honest, I didn’t read through every piece of paperwork Tati put in front of me when I signed on for this job, but I know without a doubt that having any sort of romantic relationship with my skater would be against some sort of ethics code.
Tati has put so much trust in me. The last thing I want to do is disappoint her.
Everyone in her company has big hopes for Savannah and Max.
Me flirting with Savannah to get in her head—or her pants—would not be beneficial to anyone but myself, unfortunately.
Too bad doing what’s right is so damn hard.
After the check is paid, I’m about to suggest we head back to the hotel when I hear someone call my name. I turn and see a coach I worked with a few seasons ago. She was really nice and we worked well together.
“Come have a drink with us?” She smiles and gestures to the group of people headed to the bar of the restaurant.
Some of them are familiar faces, and some are new.
Honestly, it’s the last thing I want to do right now.
I’m beat and I know tomorrow is going to be a long day.
But I also know it’d be good for networking, and I need to think about my future as well.
I turn back to find Max standing at the table holding Savannah’s hand.
“You should join them,” he suggests. “We’ve got something we need to do anyway.”
He looks at Savannah and winks. I know exactly what they need to do. They’re going back to the hotel to fuck. He told me it’s something they do before every competition. But right now, knowing what’s about to happen, feels like a hundred daggers stabbing in my stomach.
The hurt is jarring and unexpected at first, but then I realize it’s because I want to be the one who’s going back to her room with her.
I look from Max to Savannah. She gives me a hesitant smile. Does she even want to sleep with him? After what she said earlier?
It’s not like I can stop them. This is their thing. I knew this. I fucking knew this but forgot to prepare myself for how it would feel.
“Right.” I nod quickly. “You two have a good night, and I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.” I put on my best smile, but it must not be good enough because Savannah’s eyebrows scrunch together.
“Are you—” she starts to say something, but Max pulls her along. Can’t blame him for being eager. I stand and head over to the bar. If I have to know that the woman I can’t stop thinking about is fucking someone else tonight, then I’m going to need a drink. Maybe a few of them.
That last shot was not my best idea. Actually, I’m starting to wonder if I've ever had any good ideas in my life. I stumble down the hallway of our hotel, attempting to find my room, when none other than Savannah DuPont herself walks out of one of the rooms in an oversized T-shirt. She slowly closes the door as if she’s trying not to wake someone up.
Like I don’t know whose room she’s sneaking out of.
She looks to her left and sees me standing a few feet away from her. Why would the universe plan for me to come home at the same time she’s sneaking out of that room? What could I have possibly done to deserve this torture?
“Logan?”
Her voice pulls me out of my frozen state. “Um, yeah. That’s me.” Ah, shit. I’m too drunk for this.
“What are you doing out here?” she whispers, taking a few steps toward me.
“What are you doing here?” I counter. Really smooth.
“Going back to my room.”
“Yeah. Same. Well, not your room, my room.”
She nods, and a little smile pulls on her lips. “Yeah, I figured that much.”
Of course she knows I’m not going to her room. What a stupid thing for me to say.
“Did you have a good night?” she asks.
“Yeah. Probably not as good as yours, though,” I say, nodding at the door.
I guess my tone isn’t as friendly as I wanted it to be because she asks, “Are you upset about something?”
I lean my head against the wall and groan. I know I’m not sober enough to be having this conversation with her. Yes, I’m upset about something. I shouldn’t be, but I am.
“I wish it was me,” I mumble into the wall.
She takes a step forward. “What?”
“I wish it was me,” I repeat a little louder.
“You wish what was you?”
“I want to be the one you use when you need it,” I admit, still not able to look at her.
“What?” she chokes out. “I don’t use anyone. Max and I have a mutual understanding.”
Her tone sounds off, and I realize it’s because she thinks I’m judging her. But that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“Savannah.” Her name sounds more like a moan, and once again, my brain is screaming that I’ve had too much to drink to be having this conversation. “It’s not a bad thing.”
“You sure? Sounds a little like you’re slut shaming me.”
“No. No. No. You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
“I want it to be me. I want to be the one making you come. I want to be the one you trust with your body.”
“Logan, I?—”
“I know. I’m your coach. You hate me. This is so inappropriate.” I curl my hand into a fist and bang it on the wall. Hopefully, the room next to me is empty. Just add it to my list of stupid decisions. “I’ve had too much to drink and shouldn’t be saying any of this.”
She grabs my hand and pulls me off the wall. I must look like a mess to her.
“Come on, Coach,” she whispers. “Let’s get you to your room.”
She leads me a little further down the hall. My room is actually right across from hers, which we found out earlier after practice.
I regretfully let go of her hand to get my room key out of my wallet. I hand it to her, and she opens the door, pulling me inside.
“What do you wear to bed? Do you have pajamas?” she asks as she walks toward my bag I left in the corner earlier. Is she planning on helping me get ready for bed?
“No. Just my boxers.”
She stops moving, pauses for a second, and then slowly turns back to face me.
“Ok then. Let’s get you ready.”
Shit, she’s actually going to help me get ready for bed, isn’t she? I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.
She stops right in front of me, and her fingers settle on the top button of my shirt. “May I?” she asks, looking up at me from under her long lashes. I should tell her no. I don’t know how much she’s planning to take off, but if she goes down too low…
“Yes.” No. No! That’s not what I was supposed to say!
She starts unbuttoning my shirt. It’s the slowest unbuttoning I’ve ever experienced, and it’s turning me on even more.
She gets to the last one and gently pulls my shirt down my arms and lays it on the bed. Then her fingers run along the hem of my undershirt, gently trailing against my abdomen.
“Lift.”
I put my arms up as she pulls the shirt off. Her eyes move from my face down to my bare torso as she tosses my shirt on the bed with the other one. I expect that to be it. Now is when she steps back and leaves. That’s what should happen.
But…
Her hands land gently on my chest. She’s openly groping me, and I fucking love it. Her hands slide down to the waistband of my pants.
I need to stop her now. If she undoes my pants, there’ll be no hiding my erection. “Savannah?—”
“It’s ok,” she says gently. She’s never been gentle with me. I’m not sure if I should be terrified or relieved that she’s being so nice to me.
She undoes the top button, then pulls the zipper down. She tugs the pants down over my ass and lowers herself to her knees to pull them down to my ankles. There’s no hiding how turned on I am now…
I step out of my pants, but before she stands, she looks up at me or rather, my dick tenting my boxers. Her lips part as her breath hitches. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?
She stands slowly.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” I say quickly, trying to make the situation better. I’ve never been embarrassed by my own dick before, but here we are. This poor girl is trying to get my drunk ass in bed, and I can’t control my own body.
“You should be sorry.” She takes a step closer, and I can feel her warmth. “I’m supposed to hate you. I don’t like it when the people I’m supposed to hate are this attractive.”
I nod, as if this is very serious. “You’re right. That’s terribly inconsiderate of me.”
She steps even closer until her body is flush against my cock.
Goddamn. My cock is throbbing at this point. Begging for release. I don’t know what she’s about to do, and I can’t fucking think straight.
Savannah grabs my hand and leads me toward the bed, pulling the blanket back.
“Get in bed, Logan.”
Damn. I guess she really was just helping me get to bed. Which is fine. I wasn’t expecting even this much, but I can’t help but feel a small twinge of disappointment.
I climb into bed, and she tucks me in and then sits on the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry, Savannah. I knew you were with him, and my jealousy just took over. I’m usually not like this.”
She runs her hand through my hair before leaning down. “If it makes you feel any better, I was thinking of you the whole time.”
Wait. WHAT!
Her lips find my neck, and she gently presses a kiss onto my skin. She pulls away just as quick.
“Can you do me a favor, Logan?”
“Yes,” I say too quickly. I’d give her anything she wanted. No point in pretending like I wouldn’t.
“When you’re making yourself come tonight, will you pretend it’s my hand wrapped around you?”
My heart stops. Yeah, I’m dying. This is it. I’ve had a good life, but the end has come.
“I—”
“Or pretend it’s my mouth sucking you dry? You seem like more of a blow job kind of guy.”
“Fuck, Savannah,” I croak.
She smirks. She likes torturing me.
I hate that I like it a little bit too.
She stands up, and everything in me is telling me to pull her back to me, but I don’t.
“Good night, Coach. See you in the morning.”
She turns and leaves my room without a backward glance.
I’m left with no choice but to shove my hand in my boxers and do exactly what she asked me to do. Little does she know, it’s not the first time I’ve pictured her while doing this.