Page 36 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)
MILLIE
S o, I think I might’ve gone a tad overboard. As the cool night air whips my heated cheeks like a sobering slap to the face, regret washes over me. I suddenly can’t even look at Logan while we wait for the car he ordered because I just sent him a picture. Of my fucking vagina !
I want to die. I briefly consider walking out into the steady flow of traffic careening down Third Avenue, but I don’t think the cars are traveling fast enough to put me out of my misery.
Logan looks pissed. Livid. Arms folded across his chest, a crease of irritation burrowed between his brows, jaw clenched so tight, like he’s grinding his molars down to the nerve.
Maybe I crossed a line, but I mean, the guy did have his fingers inside of me while his entire hockey team stood within sniffing distance.
A white SUV pulls up to the curb, and Logan steps between me and the vehicle, opening the back door. Without a word, he glances at me, holding the door open, and I take that as direction, hopping into the warmth, with Logan sliding in after me.
“Lenox Hill?” the driver checks, his dark eyes flicking to mine in the review mirror.
Logan grunts a response, and as we pull out into the traffic, I cast a glance across the back seat finding him staring out the window, his knee bouncing incessantly.
With a heavy sigh, I sag back into the leather, watching the city fly by in a fluorescent blur, horny, wet, and full of regret. Maybe I should get that printed on a t-shirt.
Logan still hasn’t spoken a word to me. And the elevator ride is tense. I keep looking at him from the corner of my eye to check for any emotion, but he’s void, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, face stoic as he stares straight ahead. He’s like a statue. A very pissed off, hot statue.
“Did something happen?” I ask softly, cautiously. “Did I do something to make you mad?”
He huffs a breath through his nostrils, like half a laugh, half a scoff, but that’s it. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t look at me. And as the elevator stops at our floor, he waits for me to hop off first, following closely behind. Almost too close.
“Well, I mean if you’re going to be an asshole, you should have just left without me,” I say as I walk inside the apartment.
“I could’ve stayed and had some fun with—” My words are cut short, stuck in the back of my throat as Logan grabs me and spins me around, his big body pinning me against the door, hands resting either side of my head, caging me.
Breathless, I gape up at him, taking in the fiery look in his eyes. He’s still pissed, but there’s something else, something that sends a jolt straight to my core.
“What—what are you doing?” I practically squeak.
A soft smile ghosts his lips, contradicting the menacing look in his eyes, and he reaches down, tugging on the waist tie of my coat, allowing it to fall open. His gaze dips, roaming my body, that same crease of exasperation digging between his brows.
“You think you can send me a photo of your wet fucking cunt and get away with it?” he grits out, and the filthy words send a fire raging down my spine.
I gasp, and he chuckles, tracing the curve of my cheek with the back of his fingers before pushing my coat off my shoulders.
“You talk a big game, but now it’s time to put your money where your bratty mouth is, Red. ”
Goosebumps flare over my skin, and I swallow hard as ravenous butterflies swarm around my belly. “What do you w-want?”
He cocks his head, his smile turning devious. “You said it yourself. You’re gonna suck on my fat cock until you’re fuckin’ choking on it.”
Pressing my thighs together, a shuddering breath racks through me, dizziness consuming me as my focus dips to where his tongue is dragging slowly across his plump bottom lip.
How can one human be so fucking sexy? It’s like he doesn’t even have to try; it’s just a natural trait.
A living, breathing, panty-wrecking machine.
Tentatively, and with a lot less confidence than I felt when I was texting him, I trail my hands down over the shirt he’s wearing, feeling his tight muscles through the cotton, and I stop at the waist of his jeans, nervous fingers fumbling with the button on his fly.
Logan looks down, watching me fail and, with a light chuckle, he stops me, taking both my hands in his and pulling me with him as he walks backwards, pausing between our two doors. He nods his head between them. “Yours or mine?”
I consider his question, and I know why he’s asking me. He wants me to feel comfortable, in control.
“Mine,” I say, nervously.
Logan smiles, walking us into my room. It’s dark, cast in nothing but the light streaming in through the sheer curtains of the city outside the windows and the dull glow of the LED candle that sits on my nightstand.
I stand glued to the spot, watching as Logan unfastens every button on his shirt excruciatingly slowly, his eyes never once leaving mine. He shrugs the cotton from his shoulders, and I’m forced to clamp down on my bottom lip because the body on this man is something else.
Kicking off his shoes, Logan continues watching me, that cocky, slightly arrogant smirk still lingering as he easily pops the button on his fly, dragging down the zipper, and my eyes widen when I realize I’m not the only one who decided to go panty-free tonight.
Logan stops, leaving his jeans hanging open, and when I meet his eyes, they’re silently wagering me, goading me to make the next move.
And, shocking not only Logan but myself, I tug on the skinny straps of my dress, pushing them over my shoulders, revealing my breasts, my stomach, and pausing only briefly to see Logan’s throat work with a hard swallow before shimmying it down over my hips, all the way until I can step out of it.
I’ve never been buck-ass naked in front of a man before.
Sure, Logan saw pretty much everything the other night in the kitchen, but I was wearing my sweatshirt the whole time.
Here, I’m fully on display, dressed in nothing but my cowboy boots, and I’ve never felt sexier.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Logan mutters under a breath, rubbing his chin, his eyes roving all over my body like he isn’t sure where to look first.
I close the distance between us, staring into his eyes, but just as I’m about to drop down to my knees, he stops me with a finger tucked beneath my chin, the steeliness in his gaze softening a touch. “Have you ever done this before?”
For a moment, I feel like lying. I’m twenty-two for God’s sake. I should be embarrassed. But this is Logan. He knows me. So, ignoring the flush that heats my cheeks, I shake my head, keeping my chin held high.
He cups my cheek so softly, a stark contrast to his earlier demands, and ducking down, his lips skate over mine in a barely-there kiss, lingering a moment as he whispers, “Right answer.”
Looking up at him through my lashes, I lower myself, dragging my hand down over his chest, his stomach, over the generous bulge in his gaping jeans and down the inside of his thighs until I’m on my knees.
With a fortifying breath and a quick mental pep-talk, I tug down his jeans, momentarily stilted when his cock juts out, standing to attention right in front of my face.
It’s not that I’ve never seen a penis before.
I have. I once gave Parker a hand job in his car, and I’m not one to dick shame, but Parker’s penis was nothing like Logan’s.
Logan’s penis, completely bare, is long and thick with a smooth, flared head; it’s actually pretty, if that’s even possible for a penis.
Logan steps out of his jeans, kicking them to the side, and I trail my nails up his muscular thighs, staring at his dick, at the way it bobs with his movements, almost hypnotizing. Tentatively, I touch him, carefully tracing the length, his cock jolting when I get close to the tip.
“Sorry,” I whisper, looking up at him to find his face etched with utter torture. I wrap my fingers around him, moving up and down, and he exhales a heavy breath, which I take as a good reaction. “Is this okay?”
“A little harder,” he says gruffly.
I tighten my hold around his shaft, and when I see a bead of liquid glisten at the tip, I lean in and tentatively lick it, the taste foreign and salty and surprisingly yummy.
“Fuck,” Logan hisses, sucking a breath in through his teeth, his eyes falling closed.
I smile up at him, proud of myself to have caused that reaction, licking him again, this time swirling my tongue around and around, my hand working up and down.
“Quit fucking teasing me, Red,” Logan grits, gently pushing my hair back from my face.
I look up, meeting his heavy-lidded eyes.
His thumb trails the curve of my cheek, dragging over my bottom lip and tugging it open as he says, “Open this bratty mouth and fucking suck it. ”
I don’t know what it is about Logan Cullen, because if any other man ever spoke to me like that, I’d rip his dick clean off and throw it to the pigeons in the park.
But when Logan speaks to me in that degrading, demanding tone, I feel his words all the way down in my pussy, and it only makes me want him even more.
Licking my lips, I do as I’m told, opening my mouth wide and sticking out my tongue. Logan shakes his head, muttering something to himself and, wrapping his hand around the base of his dick, he slaps it against my tongue, causing me to flinch ever so slightly.
“Bit wider, baby,” he murmurs.
Again, I comply, opening up, and suddenly he’s filling my mouth, his cock warm, silky and delicious. He grabs my hand and places it where his was, and I secure my fingers around the base, wrapping my lips around him and humming in appreciation as I take him a little deeper, bobbing up and down.
“Fuck… yeah, just like that,” he says with a groan.