I laugh, giving my best friend the satisfaction of believing her comment is funny. “Well, it’s still complicated.”
“Complicated is a crapshoot of a word. All I know is, he’s a good guy, and you deserve agoodguy who gives you lots of orgasms.”
“Thanks.” I shake my head.
Maybe this is me gathering my life back and doing something that makes me happy for once. The trauma train is finally starting to break down. There’s only one problem though, Jason will be driving it straight into a wall.
Logan’s home early, and I’m a nervous wreck. Not like we haven’t hung out on the same balcony a dozen times, but that was also before he gave me a dozen orgasms. Now, it’s different. The casual, silent breathing in each other’s air while drinking our drink of choice will be no more.
I slip on a sexy nightgown that stops mid-thigh. Not wanting to be the first one outside, I wait until I hear Logan. Then I grab my wine glass and take a breath while slowly slipping out from the sliding doors.
Here he is, looking sexy as he always does. He ditched his baseball hat, leaving his hair disheveled. It’s playful and the temptation of wanting to run my fingers through it is real.
“Sora.” His deep voice echoes through the night and the butterflies flutter in my stomach hearing he kept our tradition of first name greetings.
“Logan.” I smile, meeting him at the railing that separates our balcony.
With his arms leaning on the metal, he surrounds me, my body igniting with fire. He towers over me, staring down like I’m the most beautiful human to him and it’s so foreign to me, but I love it.
“How was work?” I ask, then swallow down a lump of nerves.
He shrugs, gliding his gaze down my body slowly and carefully. “Only a few calls. Nothing major.”
“That’s good.”
He stares at me, eyes locked on mine. “It is.”
A slight breeze blows pieces of my hair over my face and Logan reaches up, brushing them away. With his one arm still enclosing me, and his other hand cupping my cheek, I feel the air growing heavy. There’s something about me and Logan that is extremely overwhelming in a good way, and I can’t quite explain it. Our connection is powerful and intense.
Logan snags my waist and then takes his time, crawling up my sides until he’s under my arms and lifting me in the air over the railing. When my feet touch the cement, he doesn’t fully let go and his warm hands are grasping at my hips, bunching the thin material of my nightdress. Yes, I’d say I am teasing him at this point. It’s enticing.
“Thought we can hang out without the divide.”
I slowly nod, paralyzed. “That’s a fantastic plan. Great, actually.” I smile and he huffs a breath of air with a grin. “Shall we sit?”
Logan goes first, sitting on the padded chair beneath him. But he reaches over, snagging my wrist, and pulls me into his lap.
Oh.I wrap my arms around his neck and we’re so close I can feel his breath every time he exhales.
“Is this okay?”
Here’s Logan being bold yet sweet.
“This is perfect.” I move just a tad to reposition, and I feel Logan’s growing length under me.
“Fuck, Sora. Do not do that again.”
“What, this?” I move slightly, his solid cock grazing my clit under my thin panties. My plan to tease him backfires since I’m now the one in agony.
His safe touch floods me as he wraps his arm around my back. I trace my finger along each one of his tattoos until I land on the one with a coded name of some type.
“What does this mean?”
His eyes harden and I can tell I’ve taken him back to a time when he wasn’t comfortable. “I want to be fully honest with you, Sora.” He pauses before continuing, “It represents the motorcycle club I used to be in.”
I jerk back from shock larger than expected. “You were in a motorcycle club?”
Holy shit.
