Chapter 21 Gwendolyn
Gwendolyn
Ipeek over at Logan through the strands of hair that fell from the confines of my messy bun.
He’s fully concentrating on the pages of to-do lists in front of him.
His tongue absentmindedly traces his lower lip while his eyes track the page.
More than once I’ve caught myself staring so hard that I missed a question he asked or a comment he wanted to add.
It feels weird, this attraction I have toward Logan.
Weird, but good. It’s more than the silly little schoolgirl crush I had on the popular kid back in high school.
Back then it was surface level. The checkmarks for the crush requirements hinged on his looks, mostly.
That’s not to say he’s not still devastatingly good looking, because he most certainly is.
Honestly, even more so, if that’s possible.
Now it’s the way I’ve seen him with his mom.
The way he stood up to his dad. How he remembers little details and goes out of his way to do something nice without being asked.
Maybe it has to do with the close proximity, but I’m seeing more of Logan Spencer than I ever planned, and instead of making me realize my crush was ridiculous, I’m wondering if there might be more to it.
Not to mention the way my body lights up at the slightest touch of his hand or when he absently brushes his knee against mine. If those simple moments feel like a fire being lit under my skin, I wonder…
I shake my head slightly to pull myself out of the daydream of what that tongue might feel like tracing my own lip.
“Fortunately for us,” I tap the paper he’s looking over now with my pen, “a lot of the town is already signed up from previous years. We just need to confirm what they are planning to do and make sure everyone is okay with the placement of their booths. Not that they have much say in it because of the layout, but I know some are more needy than others with their demands.”
“Who will be manning your booth?”
“Ophelia and Piper. But I’m trying to talk my sister into coming down, too. We always have a big turnout, and with me being focused elsewhere, the more hands the better. Someone at the register, someone getting bakery items, then someone making the drinks.”
The moan he releases isn’t as bold as the one from earlier that sent my lower region into a frenzy, but it’s still enough for me to wish I could force that sound out of him in other ways.
“I already know I’ll be stopping there for a pick me up.”
Rolling my eyes at his dramatics, I continue. “I was going to go shop to shop to settle final details. Get the okay for the setup so we can iron out any kinks early.”
“I can do that,” Logan says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You really don’t need to take on too much. I know you’ve got your hands full with your dad.”
His eyes go darker for a moment, focusing on something not in front of him, at the mention of his father. The look is gone so quickly, I question if I even saw it.
“It’ll give me something to do so I’m not stuck in that stuffy office all day.”
I pretend to shudder at the thought. “That sounds awful. Oh,” another thought pops into my head, “and it’ll help you connect more with the townspeople. Wasn’t that the goal of you doing this, anyway? That actually works out well.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, taps his finger on the edge of the page. “Mind if I take this?”
“Sure. I have it saved on my computer, so I’ll just print a clean copy.”
He chuckles. “Of course you do.”
“Sue me for being organized. I’ve only been thinking about my chance at this for years.”
Logan visibly cringes. “I am still so sorry about this. I honestly don’t want to take anything away from you.”
I wave away his concern. “It’s not on you. Besides, it’s not terrible having you as my partner. Between you and me, I don’t think I would have been able to handle it all plus the cafe.”
He scoffs. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“You might not realize this, but I have a little trouble delegating and not taking on everything myself.”
“You seem to be doing just fine these days. I remember a Gwen who wouldn’t even let me touch the scalpel in biology.”
“You were holding it wrong!”
He shrugs, grinning from ear to ear. “Now look at you, letting me take over a checklist. That’s growth if I have ever seen it. I’m proud of you, really.”
I go to slap his arm jokingly, the praise hitting a little too close to heart, and I feel like I need to ease the growing tension I feel from his comment.
But he grabs my hand before I can make contact, fully anticipating my move.
We were already sitting so close. Our thighs had been brushing softly with every movement, causing a current to move through me with every small nudge.
But now that we were facing each other, I realized only a couple of inches separated us.
My eyes snag on the way his tongue darts out to wet his lip.
“Logan.” His name is breathy as it leaves me.
We had been skirting this moment for too long now.
Too many times placed into this situation thanks to the universe.
But this time no one was here to interrupt us, and I wasn’t sure I had it in me to stop it tonight.
We were alone in the quiet of my apartment.
The air thickens with anticipation and awareness as we seem to realize the moment at the same time.
I can feel his gaze tracing my face, dropping down to land on my lips.
As we slowly lean toward each other, the only thought running through my head is ‘What’s one little taste’?
Which must be the same thing Logan is thinking.
“Fuck it.”
I barely register the whisper a second before his lips crash into mine.
The touch begins soft, testing, almost timid.
But the moment our lips touched, sparks fly.
I part mine on a breathy sigh, which he accepts eagerly if the way he welcomes my touch is any indication.
We slant to match each other perfectly, as if this was a predestined dance.
One that we know in our souls as they mingle.
A perfect fit, my mind somehow gathers words to find in this moment.
Usually, a first kiss can be sloppy as you figure out each other. But not this one. It was the first time, but it felt like we already knew what the other needed.
When I feel his tongue trace my lower lip, my body shivers, releasing a small moan that I’d probably be embarrassed about if not for the animalistic groan that comes from Logan.
I feel one hand slip behind my neck, diving into my hair and angling my face up to meet him better. While the other slides along my waist, pulling me forward to the edge of my chair. My legs part instinctively to make room for his body as I realize he’s now towering over me.
Logan devours my lips like a man starved, and I’m returning the favor, spurred on by his hands grabbing me.
, pulling me closer. I take that as permission to allow my own to skate around his defined chest, digging my fingers into his shoulders when he pulls me in tighter.
Absent-mindedly, I thank the builder of this apartment for making the island sit high.
I was complaining when I moved in that I had to buy specialty stools that stood higher.
But right now, as I feel his long and hard length pressing against my core at the perfect height to match each other, I’m thinking how perfect the design was.
When he brushes against my clit, covered only by a thin layer of pajama bottoms, I gasp at the friction, releasing our lips from the tight lock we had them in.
But Logan doesn’t release me. No, his lips travel down to my neck, where his tongue traces patterns along my skin.
My head is spinning at the sensation, and I try to hold back the sighs that start to leave me.
Logan’s fingers tighten in the base of my hair, pulling just enough that I go where he moves me easily, with a slight sting that sends an electric current down to my core. This angle exposes more of my neck to him, and when he speaks, his breath sends goosebumps along the column of it.
“Don’t hold back on me, Gwen. Those are my sounds, let me hear them.”
His teeth nip at my skin at the same moment he pushes his hips forward. I gasp loudly, my jaw dropping at the feeling of his dick pressing against me.
“Good girl.” It’s a heady thing, hearing the grin in the words he knows gets me going while feeling it against my skin.
I start to feel the telltale signs of an orgasm when he grinds into me. That’s when I also realize my hips are bucking at him. Begging for more friction. His hand on my waist moves to my lower back, angling my hips to meet him better.
“I—” I moan, feeling a rush of embarrassment flooding me.
“Tell me, baby.”
“I’m going to come.” The words leave me in a rush, jumbled by the ecstasy coursing through my veins. But he hears me. I know he does as he releases a dark chuckle, moving back up to meet my lips again.
“Good,” he groans into my mouth with another thrust. Then one more.
That’s all it takes as fireworks explode behind my eyelids. My hands grip on to his shoulders so tightly, I worry I might rip the material of his shirt. But the thought is gone quicker than it was there as my orgasm rips through me. My hips bucked at him wildly while his hands held me to him.
The come down hits me hard as I realize what just happened.
The veil of lust falls away as I try to catch my breath.
Logan continues to hold me to him. My head falls forward in exhaustion, landing on his chest. His hand cradles the back of my head, but now it’s softer.
Massaging slow circles on my scalp with his fingers.
I can still feel his erection between my legs, and my whole body flushes at the reminder of what I just did.
“Oh my god,” I groan into his chest. “Did we really just do that?”
I feel the chuckle rumble through him. “We absolutely did. And it was…” his voice trails off in thought.
“Embarrasing.”
“I was going to say fucking hot.”