Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
SADIE
He does his best to straighten my hair and wipe my face clean before placing me in the car. There’s no way to stop his cum from dripping out of me, and I don’t think I’d want to. Grabbing my discarded underwear from the ground, he puts it in the pocket of his pants and starts the car.
My mind is still reeling while we’re riding a road that’s foreign to me.
He hit the nail on the head, calling me out on my double standards and pulling the thought right from my unstable mind. Love was why I divorced David, wasn’t it? How could I have no romantic love in my life and continue writing romance?
And would this be any different? What if I said no to love because I’m scared? What if I said no to my very own happily ever after?
The divorce would be futile. My hypocrisy would be alive and well, and my romance author credits should be taken away.
But it’s too late, isn’t it? It’s too late to think whether or not I should fall in love.
It’s too late to be scared of falling. Not when I’m already there.
Not when a single smirk from him makes my body light up like a Christmas tree.
Not when my heart goes into overdrive as soon as it even expects to see him .
I’m not sure when it happened. Somewhere between the comfort we shared while he worked at the house, together but separate.
Somewhere when my favorite part of the day became bringing him lunch just to have an excuse to talk to him.
Somewhere where he showed my kids endless support, even when they were in the way of him doing his work.
Where he gave Liv confidence to be exactly what she is, by accepting her.
“I know this is probably pointless,” he breaks the silence, “but don’t overthink it.”
I burst out laughing. “Great, thanks! I feel better already.”
He flashes me a blinding smile, and suddenly my sarcastic sentence becomes the truth.
I feel better. I’m a person with a hundred scenarios inside of her head at any given moment.
My overthinking is what made me the author I am, though it also makes my everyday life difficult.
But simply by looking at him, my thoughts settle.
The hormones overtake my brain to where there is no energy left to overthink. My mind feels quiet next to him.
He parks in front of an unfamiliar house and opens the door. My head is so quiet it takes me a second to realize it’s probably his. I get out of the car while he holds my door open, looking around with wide eyes.
“Wow. This is gorgeous.”
I’ve never imagined what his house would look like, but this is stunning. It’s not huge, yet it’s super modern with clean lines and a flat roof.
“No offense, but how do you afford this?” I ask, making him laugh.
“My business does ok.” He shrugs modestly.
I nod and let him lead me inside. It’s clean but lived in, and I love it. The design is minimalist, but he has little knick-knacks to show his personality.
There’s one bookshelf in the living room and it’s half-filled with my books.
I stand in front of it, thrumming my fingers on the spines.
I wasn’t questioning whether he actually read my books, but to see them is different than hearing it.
To know that he bought all of those, and spent his limited free time reading them, so he could get to know me…
Moisture forms in the corners of my eyes.
He places a soft kiss on my bare shoulder, and I shiver under his touch.
Slowly, I turn around, placing a hand on his chest and walking him back until the backs of his knees hit the couch. He slumps down onto it, his gaze zeroed in on mine. His eyes turn even darker as my tongue darts out to lick my lips, and I start to undress.
I bring a hand to my shoulder and slip off one sleeve of my sundress. His jaw is set in stone as he watches me. Another sleeve is down, and I pull the dress even further, revealing my breasts.
He swallows audibly, while my heart beats out of my chest. This is so fucking vulnerable. I’m exposed, but his gaze caresses me gently, giving me confidence to continue. Once I step out of the remnants of the dress that lie on the floor, I lower myself to my knees.
“Fuck,” Logan mutters, and a sense of pride washes over me.
I can see that he wants me. I can see how turned on he is.
And to feel his desire, it’s addictive. I make quick work of unbuttoning his pants, releasing the cock that I felt inside of me just a half hour ago.
My pussy acts like she hasn’t seen him in years, growing wetter by the second and pleading with me to hurry with my plans.
But no, I want to take this slow. I want to revel in the feeling of being desired by this amazing man.
Of being the object of his worship. I wrap my hand around his length, basking in the way he shivers underneath my touch.
After a couple of lazy strokes, my head lowers to land small licks around his crown.
I can still taste his release. The saltiness only makes me remember how hard he came inside of me, and I let out a moan.
“Shit,” he breathes out, pulling his hands into my hair. He bunches it, not to get in my way, and my lips turn up.
Finally, I quit teasing him and suck him in deep. He hisses as his tip hits the back of my throat. I hollow my cheeks and continue sucking him, enjoying the feel of his velvety skin on my tongue.
This feels like more than sex. I’m luxuriating in his pleasure and every little sound he makes as I drive him out of his mind.
His hands tighten in my hair, and his hips lift.
My tongue swirls over him as much as it can, but as his pace picks up, there’s nothing for me to do but take it.
My nipples are fully hard by now, my pussy dripping.
He lets out another loud hiss before pulling my mouth off him.
“You’re going to make me come.”
“I want to make you come,” I respond in a pleading voice.
“Not before you come as well. Get up.”
His tone doesn’t leave room to argue, so I obey, getting to my feet. His eyes trail over me again, before he bites into his bottom lip.
“Come here.” He pats his lap, and I rush to straddle him. My pussy rejoices with the knowledge she’ll be reunited with Logan’s cock.
Spreading my knees beyond his thighs, I grab his unyielding cock and line myself up, only to sink down onto him.
“Fuck,” I mumble, the first thrust already too much.
I’m so wet there’s zero friction, but his cock still hits every magical spot inside of me. I perch my hands on his shoulders and start riding him. On a growl, he brings my lips to his, slipping his tongue right after nipping my lip.
With the way I’m bouncing up and down on his cock, it’s hard to keep our lips connected. Finally, he gives up and lowers them to my breast. He circles the hard nub with his rough tongue, making me moan. He scratches it with his teeth, and I nearly faint from the sensation.
“Let me hear you, pretty girl,” he whispers.
I have no choice but to listen, since my moans can’t be contained anymore. They fill the large room, reverberating against the walls. His mouth jumps from one nipple to the other, while I continue riding him with fervor .
“Do you like riding this cock?” he asks, and I nod profusely. “Tell me.”
“Yes, Logan, fuck.”
He smirks, bringing his head back and brings his hand to my throat. I can still breathe, but the feeling of his hand gripping my throat is possessive and oh, so fucking hot. I whimper, making him put some more pressure on it.
“Good. It’s yours. This is your fucking cock, and you can ride it whenever you want.”
His words entice me, so I ride him faster. I’m already on the verge of my release when he brings his other hand to my clit, rubbing it with his thumb.
Just a few small circles as his cock fills me so good, and waves of pleasure crash over me.
I don’t have the strength to keep riding, but his hips do the work, prolonging my release and reaching his.
His grip on my throat and clit tightens, and the pain that zings me sends another wave of ecstasy through me.
I blink a few times, pushing back tears before saying, “I love you, Logan.”
“I love you, too,” he whispers into my neck.
He owns me right now. Body and soul. Mind and heart. And I don’t know what the hell to do about that.
We stay like that until our breathing settles. Landing a small kiss to my lips, he lifts us both and brings us to his bathroom. His shower easily fits two, but I can barely stand upright after the last two hours of my life.
Luckily, he holds on to me, doing all the work of soaping me up and washing it off. He wraps me in a towel and brings me to the bed.
His bedroom is casual, with manly, dark tones and not a lot of furniture.
But one thing that hits me straight in the chest is my book on his nightstand, marked with a bookmark.
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat.
It’s the book I got my last award for. The book that shows my raw vulnerability, masked by a fluffy romance story. I wonder if he knows.
“It’s my favorite one,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
“Why?”
“It feels more honest than the others. The others are great, but this one … this one is real.”
I dip my head, unable to form a response. The way that this man I’ve known only for a short time knows me is scary and incredible.
He helps dry me off and I slip under the covers, naked as the day I was born. He repeats the process on himself and joins me in the bed, snuggling close to me.
“What now?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
“Now we sleep.”
I slap his chest. “You know what I mean.”
“We date. We can take it slow if you want to.”
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“So, date tomorrow?”
I chuckle, because that doesn’t seem slow. But there’s nothing I’d rather be doing tomorrow, while my kids are still away, than go on a date with him. “Yeah, I think that would work.”
“Perfect.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and it’s the last thing I remember before falling asleep.