27
Logan
Ihang up the phone and startle to see Lia’s eyes fixed on mine.
“Is it okay?” she whispers.
I hesitate, my chest heavy with all the words I can’t get out.
“You’re going to have dinner,” I say finally. “And then go to bed.”
“What?” She stares at me, the passiveness in her eyes giving way to anger. “You can’t talk to me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a…” Her face flushes. “... a child!”
For the first time since I had her on my lap back at the diner, I allow my lips to relax into a smirk. “I’ll talk to you however I want. And I think it’s time someone treated you like a child, since you’re clearly too immature to make good decisions.”
Fuck, it feels good to rile this girl up. Some of the heaviness in my chest dissolves when I see her open and shut her mouth in anger.
“You’re an asshole, Logan,” are the words she finally settles on.
“Uh huh.” I go over to the side table, where I’d set down the box of leftovers. I feel guilty when I realize she hasn’t eaten anything all day. We’ve been so focused on feeding Aurora whenever she got hungry that the rest of us haven’t had a bite.
I can handle skipping meals. But Lia’s lost weight over the past month, and I should at least be making sure she eats.
“I’m going to sit you down on my lap,” I threaten, my chest even lighter at the thought of this new excuse to hold her to me, “and feed you this bacon and eggs.”
“Sure.” She crosses her arms. “You’re not such an adult yourself, Logan, or you’d know that if I ate that, I’d be having diarrhea for the next three days.”
“Huh?”
“You know, food safety? Biology 101? That stuff is supposed to be refrigerated. It’s been in a hot car all day, I bet it’s just swarming with bacteria and—”
“Okay. Okay.” My hand finds its usual place around her wrist, and I pull her out of the room. I send a quick text to Everest, telling him we’re going to get a bite to eat, then push her toward the car.
“Stop shoving me around like that!” she fumes. “Where are we going?”
“I liked it better when you weren’t talking.”
Liar. But it feels really fucking good to dominate her like this. Seeing her pissed off quiets the guilt and the incomprehensible heaviness that have been making my heart hurt, because it means she’s neither shutting me out, nor looking at me in that broken way that makes me want to cry.
And I’m far too old to cry.
I only let go of her wrist when we reach the car. Huffing out in exasperation, she buckles her seatbelt, and I turn on the ignition.
“You should also be putting on your seatbelt,” she says in that cute bossy tone that used to make my heart flutter back in high school. “Loser.” She marks a pause. “Sorry, Logan.”
I glance at her quickly as I pull out onto the state road. “Why sorry?”
“For, uhm… being mean.”
I swallow, my throat tight at seeing her shut down in slow motion again. Reassuring her won’t do a thing. It’ll only make her spiral harder.
Besides, anything I could say to reassure her would be a lie. She is mean. My mean little ghost.
“Well,” I say at last, pulling into a sports bar a few minutes away, “I guess I can’t expect anything less from a little brat like you.”
“Logan!”
She’s back to being angry, daggers flying from her eyes, but I merely chuckle and park near a sports bar. Then I drag her to it. Once inside, I scan my eyes for the most private booth in the room.
Though there’s not much need for privacy since it’s after eleven and the place is empty, with just one half-awake waitress to serve us. The minute we’ve reached our table, I pull Lia down again in my lap.
“Logan! Not in public!” she hisses in my ear.
I glance around, amused at her definition of public. But I answer, “Especially in public.”
Her slim, toned body feels so good in my lap. Though she’s curvier than before—she didn’t entirely lose her baby weight, and I like her even better this way. The flesh on her ass means I can dig my hands into it, and I do just that as I peruse the laminated menu.
“Ow! Logan!”
“Quiet, or I’ll put you across my lap instead.”
It’s the same threat I’d used her back at the diner, and just like before, it shuts her up.
It’s not a threat I would ever carry out, even with just one waitress to witness it, though I would like to see the utter mortification on her face if I did.
But no amount of mortification would be worth another person getting an eyeful of her ass.
A single smack to the ass in public is my hard limit, but for the moment, she’s struggling so much in my arms that all I want to do is sit back and enjoy the accidental lap dance.
“Logan!” she hisses again after a while, when she sees I’m not following through on my threat. “Let me go! Logan! Oh my god, are you—”
She must have felt my stiffness under her, and she blushes bright red and stops moving at once.
“Go on,” I encourage her, slipping a hand under her jeans and panties. “Keep showing me how little you want to be in my lap.”
“Logan,” she groans, sinking her flaming face against my chest. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Uh huh.” Cursing at the tight jeans hampering my movements, I nonetheless manage to bring my hand around to her pussy, drinking in her little squeak of embarrassment, my cock swelling to find her wetness.
“Didn’t mean to, hmm?”
She chokes out a strangled noise that might be a laugh or a sob. “Not in the restaurant, Logan…”
“Be my good girl and take it,” I breathe into her ear, circling her clit with a finger, “or you’re going to find yourself with those jeans around your ankles.”
She shudders in my arms, but any resistance has left her. She melts into me as I continue massaging her clit with one hand, while the other strokes up and down her back reassuringly.
“You’re my good girl,” I purr, noting how the praise seems to make her both wetter and more relaxed. “My very good girl, Lia.”
I smile, noting how much this girl who protests at being treated like a child seems to…
well, enjoy being treated like one. But I hide my expression from her, instead focusing on toying with her clit.
It’s not easy to move my hand under her tight jeans, but she’s not complaining, her shuddering sighs giving way to low moans.
I’m thankful for the music blending in with the sound of the TVs all around us, because she’s not being discreet.
I just have time to whip my leather jacket over her legs before the waitress comes back to take our orders.
Lia freezes in my arms, and I can guess at how splotchy-red her face has grown.
With my jacket fully concealing her, I know the waitress can’t see a thing, though she probably does find it odd for a grown woman to be sitting in my lap.
She must have seen a lot worse, though, because she only blinks at us then waits for our orders with a smile.
“Two burgers,” I request, my voice muffled in Lia’s curls.
“Uhm, no,” she says in a choked voice, as I keep up my teasing of her clit. “I actually would like the… fuck!”
I’ve just plunged two fingers into her tight pussy.
“The… the Caesar salad… fuck!”
She disguises her surprise under a coughing fit as I start to drive my curled fingers into her cunt.
“Sorry, babe, I don’t think they serve fucks,” I tell her, before smiling at the waitress. “We’ll have two burgers.”
“Asshole!” snaps Lia, as I continue to finger her hard. “Let me order my own food!”
“I’m not letting you make any decision ever again,” I taunt her, still keeping up a punishing rhythm.
She bites her lip. Making sure the jacket is still hiding her, I keep one hand against her pussy as the other one pulls her jeans down.
“What are you—Logan, what are you doing?!”
“Showing you who owns you,” I breathe into her ear. “Now stop wriggling around and behave.”
She scowls at me, but her soaking wet pussy tells me just how much my words affect her. I push a third finger into her just as my other hand finds her ass, and the little ring of muscle buried there.
She groans loudly against my neck as I enter her with two fingers from behind, and she finds herself pinned between my hands. She grabs the jacket to keep it from falling, while stuffing her face against my chest, actually chewing on my shirt to prevent herself from crying out.
“Want to tell me who owns you, naughty girl?” I murmur.
“You do, Logan,” she whimpers, her voice thick with pleasure and pain. “You do!”
I speed up my fingering, my thumb pressing against her clit as my curled fingers in her pussy make her moan loudly every time they hit a spot deep within her.
I nearly moan myself when I hear her whine at the way I’m shoving two fingers, then three, into her tight asshole, her walls squeezing me as I punish it.
Just a few more pumps and her low moans turn into a loud gasp that I muffle with a kiss, her pussy clenching around me. Then she sags, trembling, before her face grows redder than ever when I withdraw my three fingers from her pussy with a loud plop.
But I keep the other fingers up her ass, and she hisses loudly, trying to escape them.
“It hurts, Logan,” she groans.
“Good.”
Just then, the waitress returns bearing two plates loaded with burgers and fries, and two glasses filled with more ice cubes than water.
“Are you going to at least take them out so I can eat?” she snaps at me, still writhing in discomfort on my lap.
“No.”
She huffs out her displeasure, then bends over the table to pick up her burger.
“Wait,” I tell her. “Don’t eat yet.”
She grabs a fry and turns toward me—causing her to wince in pain as my fingers in her ass don’t budge—then very slowly lifts it to her lips, and takes a nibble.
“Naughty girl,” I smirk, giving her a few pumps of my fingers to punish her. Then I bring the three that were in her pussy up to her lips. “You can eat those first.”
She sniffs at her arousal on me and scrunches up her nose. “No thank you.”
“Go on,” I breathe, my cock straining in my pants.
Her face looks incredibly sensual as she closes her eyes, parts her lips and… bites.
“Fuck!”
She hasn’t changed much in her month away. But it still surprises me, and before I know it, my fingers have popped out of her ass. “Fuck, Lia!”
She bends over laughing, actually clutching her stomach as she shakes in quiet mirth.
I can’t think of the last time I’ve really seen her laugh, and any annoyance I might have felt melts at the sight of it.
But her little show of brattiness also has me more turned on than ever, and she lets out a yelp of surprise when in one sudden movement, I’ve pulled up her jeans while also pushing her down on the floor, under the table.
“Logan!” she hisses. “They’ll see!”
By now, the waitress has definitely figured out what we’re doing, but one glance at my murderous expression, and another glance at the flash of metal in my back pocket, and she swiftly turns back around.
Anyway, it’s one thing to let her see my girl’s pussy. Another to risk her seeing my dick.
I’m not overly preoccupied by that last possibility as I unzip my fly and my cock springs out from its restraints.
I can’t see Lia under the table after I’ve rearranged my jacket to hide her head and my dick, and it makes it even more exciting when I feel her tongue licking over the head of my cock, tasting the bead of precum.
Not exciting enough that I allow her to take the lead. I much prefer holding her head and fucking her mouth instead. Groping under the jacket, I find her cheeks and squeeze them around my cock, keeping her helplessly trapped between my hands as I use her mouth.
Every pump touches the back of her throat, and my cock feels harder than ever when I hear her choking gasps, and feel tears streaming down her cheeks.
Fuck yes. She’s mine. All fucking mine.
Far too soon, thick ropes of seed fill her mouth, and I hear her splutter. I bend down and whisper, “You’d better drink it all, ghost girl, if you want your dinner.”
I hear her gag, and her throat constricts under the fingers I shove into her mouth. She hurriedly swallows my cum, and I drag her back onto my lap, wrapping an arm around her.
“Good girl,” I praise her.
She tries to act annoyed at my words, but the way she’s wriggling around on me again tells me she’s ready for round two.
She’ll be getting a whole lot of rounds while she’s my little captive in Wyoming. I grin at the thought, and pull the burger and fries toward her.
“Eat,” I say, sliding a hand back under her jeans, resting it against her left cheek.
She clenches, clearly expecting me to find her asshole again, and the way she shifts from side to side tells me the fingering left her feeling pretty uncomfortable.
“Eat,” I tell her again, grabbing a fry from my own plate.
She untenses at last when she sees my hand isn’t moving, and reaches over for her burger.
“Fuck, I was hungry,” she groans, taking a bite. “You’re gonna need to feed me a lot more often. Prisoners aren’t usually starved, you know.”
“I didn’t realize prisoners usually complained so much,” I tease.
“Well, since you treat me like a child,” she huffs out, taking another large bite of her burger, “I might as well act like one. Asshole.”
My smirk deepens. “Doesn’t your butt hurt enough, Lia?” I whisper in her ear, pinching her ass cheek threateningly. “Want me to make it hurt worse?”
She chokes out a cough, then another one, as her food goes down the wrong pipe. “Logan! You can’t! We’re in public!”
I hesitate for a beat, before reluctantly squeezing her to me. “We really need to get back, or Everest is going to freak out.”
“Everest!” Her eyes widen, and she looks guilty. “We didn’t think of getting him anything. He must be starving.”
“He’ll be fine,” I assure her. “We have bananas and goldfish and all that other crap we got for Aurora.”
“He’s not going to want to eat that,” she objects. “He’ll want to keep it for her.”
“Yeah, well, whatever. C’mon.”
“Logan!”
“Fine. I’ll ask for to-go boxes, then.”
“We’re not giving Everest our leftovers! That’s not nice.” She stops walking and turns to me resolutely, folding her arms and glaring at me. “Go order another burger for him. Now.”
I can’t help but chuckle when I take in her defiant expression. Or fold her to me when, in the next instant, her anger melts, replaced by guilt, as she realizes she’s reverted to her old high school way of speaking.
“It’s okay, Lia,” I soothe. “Just try not to break any more of my bones, okay?”
She lets out a tiny hiccup of a sob against my chest.
Wrong thing to say.
Still, I’m feeling a lot closer to her than I ever have as we wait for the very embarrassed waitress to bring us the new order.
“Am I…” Lia toys with the fabric of my shirt nervously as I hold her to me. “Am I still your captive?”
“Mhm hmm,” I murmur, drawing my arms around her.
I feel her swallow against me. “Will I… still be your captive in Wyoming?”
I squeeze her against me. “You’ll always be my little captive, Lia. Always.”