Chapter 10
Logan
On the ride home, I’d determined Charlotte was more intoxicated than I first thought. I knew she’d been drinking, but as she slumped against my shoulder during the drive, it became clear how much. She grew as quiet as the rest in the truck, the radio the only sound in the cab.
When I parked, and the doors opened for the others to exit, Charlotte stirred next to me. We waited a few minutes before getting out ourselves. It gave her some time to become more alert. Plus, I hoped it gave my roommates time to get to their own rooms.
“Ready?” she asked.
Nodding, I opened my door and slid out, holding out my hand for her.
“I’m sorry about all of that, if it made you uncomfortable,” I told her.
“No worries, roommates can be tricky.”
She had no idea how right she was. As we entered the townhouse, I was relieved to find the downstairs empty and quiet. Everyone had gone upstairs. Making my way to the kitchen, I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and handed her one.
“Would you like to head up to my room?” I wasn’t going to make any assumptions about why she came home with me. “Or do you want to hang out down here? We could watch TV or something.”
She came close, her hands landing on my chest as she looked into my eyes. She had pretty eyes, but they were bloodshot from drinking.
“Logan, I didn’t come home with you to watch TV.” Reaching down, she took my hand. “I’m assuming your room is upstairs?”
I nodded and she started for the stairs, pulling me along.
There was a girl I hung out with at home, Sara, during my break from school. She and I met at the counseling center. It was frowned upon for us to be in a “relationship,” especially with someone from the group. But we decided to hang out anyway, we both needed the companionship.
We talked about everything. Our pasts, our problems, our hopes for the future. It was comforting having a friend dealing with similar issues.
Then it became more than friendship.
We had sex.
We had good sex.
There was comfort in her being the one I’d been with. She knew so much about me from our sessions together. And all our late-night talks.
Maybe that was why I felt comfortable with Charlotte, too. She was just as easy to talk to. She didn’t judge when I told her why I wasn’t drinking. Instead, she found it admirable.
Courageous even.
She reminded me of Sara.
But I wish she was more sober.
“This is my room,” I told her, guiding her toward my door.
She walked in ahead of me, looking around, stumbling slightly. I was thankful the room was fairly clean and the bed was made, only a few pieces of laundry on the floor. Grabbing them quickly, I tossed them in my hamper.
Unsure of how to proceed, I turned on my speaker.
“Music?” I asked her.
“Sure.” Charlotte sat on the edge of my bed, suddenly looking as uncomfortable as I was. I think that helped because if she were more aggressive right now, I think I’d be chickening out.
“Country or rock?” I asked.
“Let’s go country, might fit the mood better.” Her smile was infectious, and it made me smile too.
I pulled up “You Make it Easy” by Jason Aldean, and a playlist of songs like that.
Setting my phone on my desk, I faced her.
She smiled as she patted the bed next to her.
I took measured steps as I made my way to her, keeping my eye on her.
I needed to make sure she really wanted this. And there was only one way to know.
Kneeling in front of her, I put my hands on her knees and asked.
“I need to make sure this is what you want. That you’re good with us getting in my bed.”
She reached for the hem of my sweater, pulling it up and over my head as her answer. Her hands went to my chest, rubbing up to my shoulders, down to my waist. But I grabbed her hands, stopping her from progressing.
“That feels amazing, but please tell me it’s OK for me to touch you as well.”
Her hands went to my face, cradling it.
“What’s wrong, Logan?”
How did I answer that? She didn’t need that backstory of my life.
“I want your consent. I need it, Charlotte, that’s all. I don’t want to do this without knowing I have it.”
She stroked my face before lowering hers to mine. Her lips were soft as she kissed me. It was a simple kiss, and when she pulled away, she looked me square in the eye.
“Logan, I’d like you to fuck me.”
Fuck.
Pulling her to stand with me, I reached down to undo her jeans.
First the button, then the zipper. My hands couldn’t move fast enough once I knew it was happening.
She joined in, undoing mine. We both fumbled with each other’s pants, struggling to push them over the hips.
Through giggles, we resorted to taking off our own pants and tossing them across the floor.
Her shirt and panties remained, and from the look of it, there was no bra underneath.
Her hard nipples poked through her shirt, begging for me to touch them.
I reached for the bottom of the material, lifting it slowly up her torso, my fingers rubbing along the skin of her stomach as I went.
When my finger reached the underside of her breast, Charlotte let out a small moan, throwing her head back.
Both my hands reached under the thin T-shirt to cup her pert breasts, my thumb and finger squeezing each of her nipples gently as I did.
“Logan,” she whispered.
The reverence in how she said my name gave me pause.
But then I found myself ripping her shirt over her head.
We stood, staring at one another, both in our underwear.
Her body was amazing, curves in all the right places.
Fit but not so muscular she looked masculine.
She took one step toward me, bringing us only inches apart, as she put her hands on my chest.
“Logan.” She said my name again as her hands ran across my chest, down my torso. “You’re incredibly sexy, do you know that?” Her hand made it to my bulging dick still inside my boxer briefs. “Every part of you is hard, not just your dick, but I love that your dick is hard for me.”
Her hand wrapped around me, gripping my cock tight through the material.
Reaching down with both hands, she pushed my boxers to the ground.
Her heated look took me in from head to toe.
And I liked that. Stepping closer, my finger went to the dip at the base of her neck and trailed down between her breasts.
Once there, I circled around her firm skin, cupping a breast in my hand, as her head fell back.
Lowering my mouth, I took a pink nipple between my lips, sucking and nipping at it as I did.
My hand pulled at her other tit, flicking the taut tip, as she moaned my name under her breath.
“C’mon, Charlotte, let’s get in this bed.”
As she went to sit on the edge, she missed it, her ass sliding off the mattress and heading for the hard boards of the floor. My hands thrust forward, gripping under her arms, pulling her against me.
“Whoops,” she said, with the giggly tone of someone really drunk.
Shit.
Placing her further back on my bed, I laid her head on a pillow and pulled both feet up, covering her body with the blankets. She settled in, almost asleep already.
“Your bed is so comfy,” she whispered into the pillow.
Yep, it was a comfy bed.
And now Charlotte would have it all to herself tonight.
There was no way I was moving forward with doing anything with her in this state, so I sat back against my headboard and took out my phone.
After playing a few games of solitaire, I heard only soft breathing and an occasional snore come from her.
Once I moved my garbage can to the bedside and put the bathroom light on, I grabbed my extra pillow and walked downstairs.
The couch was calling my name.
As I entered the living room, I realized I wasn’t alone. The kitchen light was on and the microwave was running. My only hope was that it wasn’t her.
But of course it was.
I wanted to ignore her. I wanted to keep my eyes on the couch only. However, as I reached for the blanket on the back of the cushions, my eyes betrayed me. They looked right at her, and she was staring right back. Though what I saw surprised me.
There were no daggers, no sneers.
Instead, her look was inquisitive, almost, might I say, tender. But as quick as I saw it, she shielded that shit up.
“What are you doing down here?”
It was not an unexpected question. She wasn’t mean, and that’s what was unexpected. She stood on the other side of the island, her waist barely visible over it, she was so tiny. My eyes drifted to the tank she wore and how it barely contained her full breasts.
“She, uh…” Suddenly I was embarrassed to tell her what had happened. But I wasn’t about to lie. “She had too much to drink, so she’s sleeping it off in my bed.”
Throwing my pillow on the couch, I made myself as comfortable as I could. Only then did I realize it was far from a normal sized couch, and my feet hung off the end.
Ava worked her way over to me, a bowl of popcorn in her hands. She stood at my feet, a smirk on her lips as she stared down at me.
“You don’t fit, Tank.” Her laugh was genuine as she kicked at my socked foot. “That’s gonna make for a long night. Why not sleep with her in your own bed?”
I was working to get the thin blanket over my body, only to realize it was a tiny throw that only covered me from shoulders to hips. It was gonna be a long night.
Ava left without another word, her steps quiet on the stairs.
Staring at the ceiling, I thought back on my night and decided bringing a girl home wasn’t my best decision. The reaction I got from Ava was what I was aiming for, but that wasn’t fair to Charlotte.
Then I heard padded footsteps approaching again. Lifting my head from my pillow, it was Ava, headed my way, lugging a huge fluffy blanket in her arms. Not only did she bring it to me, but she placed it over me as well. Again, no words before she left.
But I didn’t think any words were needed.