28. Logan
TWENTY-EIGHT
LOGAN
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Savannah says as she sprays a pound and a half of hairspray on the tight bun on the top of her head.
“I don’t know why either,” I tell her. “You’re great in front of a camera.”
“It’s different when I’m skating. I don’t even notice them. It’s going to be hard not to notice them when they’re literally there to take pictures of me.”
We have a photo shoot scheduled at our home rink today.
Well, she and Max have a photo shoot. I’ll be there for moral support.
U.S. Figure Skating is sending out a journalist and photographer to all of the top contenders for the season.
I couldn’t be prouder that Savannah and Max made the list. I might be biased, but I think they’re the ones to watch this season. At least, that’s the plan anyway.
“You are beautiful. Stunning. Amazing. This photographer is lucky to get to photograph you.”
She looks over at me and smiles. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You suck my?—”
She holds her hand up, cutting me off. “Stop! Don’t ruin it.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around her waist now that the hairspray cloud has gone away. “I’m the lucky one, baby. Trust me.”
I kiss her cheek, knowing her lips are off limits since she’s already applied lipstick.
“You are pretty lucky, huh?” She smirks at me through the mirror.
“That I am.” I playfully smack her ass before I grab her bag from her bed. “Come on. We gotta go or we’re gonna be late.”
“Ok. Ok.”
The rink is not busy today. It took a lot of coordination to make sure of that, too. We couldn’t completely close it down, but we did manage to get an hour of private ice time, which should be enough to get the shoot done.
Max arrives a few minutes after we do. His attendance has been less than stellar recently.
I swear he’s showing up later and later, even for practices.
If it gets any worse, I’m going to have to talk to him.
Not only does it mess up their very regimented schedule, but it’s stressing Savannah out.
She’s trying to be understanding about it because he’s working another job, but she’s not very good at hiding how she really feels.
Max is outfitted in black pants and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. Savannah is in a dark green leotard with just enough sequins and a matching flowy skirt. They look great together. Which, for some reason, irritates me.
I haven’t felt much sadness since I decided to retire. It was the right decision for me at the time. But seeing Max and Savannah today getting photographed together makes me wish it were me beside her instead of him.
It’s stupid because I know if I hadn’t retired and moved to Colorado, I never would’ve met Savannah, and she would’ve gone on hating me. It’s not like I would’ve ever been her partner. Everything worked out exactly the way it should’ve.
But when the photographer puts them in a position where their lips are only inches from each other and Max is holding Savannah in an intimate embrace, my fists squeeze together in jealousy.
Even after everything the three of us did together, it’s not easy to watch another man almost kiss the woman I love.
And now the entire skating community is going to see this.
No one knows that Savannah is with me yet.
That’s what bothers me the most. No one knows what happened in that hotel room except for us, but the world will get to see the chemistry between Savannah and Max and make assumptions.
I’m trying to avoid calling her “mine” because I know she’s her own person and that it would probably scare her off. But she is mine just as much as I’m hers. And damn it, I want everyone to know!
I watch as the photographer takes picture after picture of them.
They’re great pictures. But the way they look at each other just pisses me off more with each flash of the camera.
I try to control my mood. My mental thoughts are not other people’s problems. But when Savannah leaves the ice to change for the interview portion, I follow her.
No one sees me as I go into the locker room behind her, including Savannah. She’s shocked when I grab her arm and pull her toward the shower stalls.
“What are you doing in here?” she whispers, looking around to make sure no one else is in here.
I pull the curtain closed and turn to face her. “I just needed to be close to you for a minute and didn’t want a stray camera to catch it.”
“Oh.” Her brows furrow as she studies my face. “Are you ok?”
“Yes.” I sigh. “No. I don’t know. Just having a moment, I guess.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Nothing. I just… I just wish people knew that we’re together because these pictures are going to make it look like…”
She nods as she understands what I’m saying. “I see.” She takes a step forward and puts her finger on my chest. “So the world-famous Logan Sokolov is jealous?”
“Yes.” No point in denying it.
“Well, what should we do about it?” She’s goading me.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” I say, running my fingers down her cheek.
“Well, you’d better make quick work of those ideas. We don’t have much time in here.”
I grab her wrist, turn her around so she’s facing the wall, and unzip her outfit.
“Sounds like someone wants me to fuck them,” I whisper into her ear.
“ Someone wants to make sure her boyfriend knows that she’s his and only his.”
God, this woman knows exactly what I need to hear. I pull her costume down and off, along with her tights, and hang them on the hook in the bathroom.
I trail my finger down her bare back and over her ass until I’m right at her opening. I lean in and whisper, “You’ve got to be quiet, ok? We don’t want to get caught.”
She nods, and I slide my finger inside her already wet pussy. She moans, so I stop and cover her mouth with my other hand. “I said quiet, baby.”
She nods again, and I resume fingering her. This time, she manages to hold in her moans, and the only sound is the wetness of her pussy as my fingers slide in and out. She comes fast and hard for me, squeezing my fingers. I have to hold her up with my free hand while her legs shake.
When she’s able to stand on her own again, I quickly unzip my pants and shove them down. “Hands on the wall, baby, and bend over.” I make sure to keep my voice as low as possible. I didn’t see anyone in the locker room, but you never know who may have walked in.
I grab onto her hips and line myself up behind her before I slowly slide into her.
“God, you look so good taking my cock.” One thing I’ve learned about Savannah without her even saying anything is that she loves it when I talk dirty to her and loves to be praised.
Which works out well because I love to talk dirty to her, and I especially love to praise her.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, baby. ”
She squeezes around me and arches her back, giving me an even better angle.
My fingers dig into her hips as I hold her and thrust over and over again at a hard pace.
I’d love to take my time with her, but this needs to be quick since people are waiting on us.
It’s rough and fast, but it does everything I needed it to.
I’m already feeling better just knowing that I’m the one she lets take her like this. Only me.
“I’m going to come, Savannah. Do you want me to fill you up?”
“Yes!” she whispers. “Please, Logan. I need it.”
“Fuck. I love it when you beg for my cum.”
A few more thrusts are all it takes before I’m busting my load inside her. My dick pulses as every last drop fills her.
When I’m finished, I slowly slide out of her and then drop to my knees.
For some reason—one I really don’t even want to try to figure out—I love seeing my cum in her. It’s like a little confirmation that she’s mine without actually saying it. As some of it starts to come out, I slide it back in with my fingers like a fucking caveman.
“Savannah?” Max calls. Savannah goes rigid.
“Shit,” she whispers before she calls out, “I’ll be right out. Just needed a minute.”
“You alright?” he asks back.
“Yep! All good. Be right there.”
“Ok.”
I look up at her from my spot on the ground, and she leans down and kisses me. “You don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Logan. I promise you that.”
It’s not a declaration of love, but it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to one from her, so I grasp onto it and let it calm my nerves.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She smiles. “Don’t be sorry. A jealous fuck was kinda hot.”
I chuckle. “It was, wasn’t it?”
I stand and pull my pants back on. Savannah checks to make sure the coast is clear before I sneak out while she changes.
She eventually comes out, and we walk over to where the interview is taking place. Max is already sitting in one of the chairs across from the journalist.
He looks at Savannah with her flushed cheeks and swollen lips and then looks at me. He knows exactly what was going on in the locker room. I don’t doubt that for a second. What I hate, though, is the look of pain in his eyes when he realizes it.
I know Max is still in love with Savannah. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to lose her. I just worry that this isn’t going to end well for any of us.