Page 19

CHAPTER 17

SLOANE

“W elcome home,” Logan purred as he opened the door of his apartment. “Wait.” He put his hand up, a weirdly determined look on his face.

“What?” I asked, grinning because we’d just had the best fettuccini I’d ever tasted…and a few glasses of wine.

I was pretty sure that Logan York was the most charming man I’d ever met.

“I think it’s customary to carry your girl over the threshold the first time she enters her new home,” he said, a lock of his blond hair falling onto his forehead as he continued to charm me.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurted out, because I couldn’t keep the words in. It was a problem that I kept having, actually, saying everything I would normally keep locked in tight. A smug grin spread across his face, and I blinked a few times, not comprehending how someone so perfect looking existed.

“Says the world’s most beautiful woman,” he responded with a wink, and I actually giggled, which was definitely the wine’s fault. “Now, as I was saying, beautiful girl. It’s time to cross the threshold.”

Logan swept me into his strong arms, holding me carefully against his chest as I looked up at him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re just supposed to do this when you get married. And did you say ‘her’ new home, or am I really drunk and imagining things?”

He grinned. “I don’t think it’s a wedding-exclusive thing, but in any case, this is good practice.”

I blinked at the easy, confident way he said the craziest things. And how he’d ignored what I’d asked.

“I hope you’re not talking about me,” I told him as we walked across his entry. “Because I’m quite confident those kinds of love stories don’t involve escorts.” I said it like I was joking, but the words secretly made me die inside.

“Maybe we’re the ones actually writing the greatest love story ever told. Maybe those other stories are missing crucial elements,” Logan shot back, leading us into a giant living room and sitting down on an oversized brown sectional.

Normally, I’d be interested in seeing his home, but I couldn’t look away from his face.

The way he was gazing at me…

It wasn’t the kind of look I was used to receiving—the greedy, predatory stares—this was different. His eyes swept over my face as if he was committing it to memory, as if I was something rare, someone extraordinary.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?” he breathed, his voice low and thick.

“Like…” I faltered, heat creeping up my neck. “Like you’re in awe or something.”

Logan’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles, and my stomach flipped. “Because I am.”

I blinked, unsure if I’d actually heard him right. “What?”

His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from my face, and his fingers lingered there, just barely grazing my skin. “You’re the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly, his voice steady, like it was a fact.

My throat tightened, and I forced a laugh, yanking my gaze away from him. “You’re talking crazy again.” I swallowed hard, my hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like I might fall apart if I didn’t hold on to something. “Logan…”

Before I could say anything else, he leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate. His breath brushed against my lips, warm and steady, and then his mouth was on mine.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or frantic. It was soft, slow, like he was savoring the moment, savoring me . His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb grazing my cheek as his lips moved against mine, and I melted into him, every nerve in my body sparking to life.

“Sloane,” he sighed against my lips as my fingers played with the buttons on his shirt.

Maybe I’d known this was inevitable, from the second I’d seen him out there on the ice—his mouth on mine, me straddling his lap, and him looking at me like I was the only thing in the world worth wanting. His hands were everywhere—strong, sure, tugging me closer as though he could pull me inside him if he tried hard enough. And fuck, I let him, because I didn’t want distance. Not right now. Not from him.

“It’s the second date, Logan,” I murmured, beginning to slowly unbutton the dress shirt he was wearing. His breath hitched, and my fingers trailed across his chest as I revealed inch by tattooed inch of perfect skin.

I couldn’t do feelings . But I could do sex. If he meant everything he was saying—which was highly doubtful—I’d never be able to give him any words like that back.

But I could give him the best orgasm he’d ever experienced.

His lips left mine, trailing along my jaw, his breath warm and ragged as he kissed a path across my skin. My head tipped back automatically, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I tried to breathe through the storm raging inside me.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel coarse at the edges.

I had the sudden urge to cry because I’d never had a man ask me something like that.

It had always been assumed.

His lips hovered there, just below my ear, his hands still moving—one running up my waist, the other steady on my hip.

I began to kiss my way down his chest, wanting to taste every inch of him. The rich men who hired me weren’t always attractive, so when I had an actual work of art in front of me…I wanted to worship him.

I was suddenly scooped up, and Logan was walking us down a hallway.

“What?”

“Our first time is going to be on our bed. I’ve been jerking off thinking about this moment since the first time I saw you.”

“No you didn’t—” I laughed, my breath whooshing out as he tossed me on the mattress before kneeling on top of it, beginning to prowl toward where I was lying.

“I’d lie here—and let’s be clear, I pride myself on how long I can last—and one thought of you…” He made an explosion movement with his hands. “Best orgasms I ever had.”

“Well, hopefully the reality of me lives up to the one in your head, Mr. York,” I told him in a raspy voice as I slid my dress up my thighs to reveal black lace thigh-highs he had no idea I was hiding. His eyes widened, a red flush appearing on his cheeks as he hungrily took me in.

“How’s this? Does it live up to what you imagined?”

“Better. Much better,” he groaned, finally reaching me and helping me slide my dress up all the way until I was lying there in nothing but my black lace bra, matching underwear, and thigh high set. “Holy fuck. Are you even real?”

I didn’t tell him how this body came to be. A strict diet, an hour at the gym every day, and weight loss drugs when Everett thought I was looking too “fluffy,” as he called it.

Wouldn’t want to ruin the fantasy.

“Come back to me,” he murmured, and I blinked, his dark green eyes boring into me.

“I’m here,” I breathed.

“Good girl,” he said with a sexy grin.

“So, in this fantasy…what happens next?” I asked him.

“In my fantasy—which I’m just going to reiterate is nothing compared to what I’m seeing right now—I get…to taste.”

“Taste,” I whispered, rubbing my thighs together. “I like the sound of that.”

* * *

LOGAN

Sloane was stretched out on my sheets like some kind of goddess, all long lines and soft curves, her black lingerie clinging to her like it had been made just for her. The lace barely covered anything, teasing me with glimpses of flawless skin and the delicate dip of her waist. My breath caught as my eyes trailed down the sheer fabric, the way it hugged her hips, the thin straps of the garter that disappeared against her thighs. It was stretched tight across her slit, dipping between her pussy lips…she was a fucking feast.

Her hair was a mess—wild and dark against my pillow. Her lips were parted just slightly, painted a shade of red that had me desperate to see them stretched around my dick, staining my skin with that color. Her eyes were hooded as she watched me enjoy myself, a half challenge, half invitation in their blue depths.

I continued to gape at her, trying to remember how to breathe. “You know, you could’ve warned me,” I said finally, my voice rougher than I intended.

Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile, the kind that made me forget every coherent thought in my head. “Warned you about what?”

“That you were about to ruin me,” I said, shaking my head like I was trying to snap myself out of whatever spell she’d cast. It didn’t work. Nothing would’ve worked.

I reached back and brushed my hand against her ankle before I ran it up her leg, slow and deliberate. Her skin was warm, smooth, and when she shivered under my touch, I grinned…and then trailed my hands up to the edge of her panties until I was tracing the edge of the scraps of lace.

“Remind me to buy you a hundred more pairs of these,” I growled, before I ripped them off her body, revealing a pussy that I was going to worship until my dying day.

“Fucking hell. You’re perfect,” I said, leaning forward because if I didn’t taste her…the day that I died was going to come quick.

“Logan,” she said, reaching out and stopping me before I could get between her legs.

“Yeah, baby?” I answered, my voice coming out feral…crazed as I desperately stared at her pussy. I was surprised I wasn’t drooling…that’s how badly I wanted her.

“I—I’m clean,” she whispered.

I blinked, caught off guard, and for a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. But when I did, my gaze snapped to hers. She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as her fingers twisted in the edge of the sheet.

I sat back slightly, trying to catch her eyes again. “Sloane,” I said, my voice low and steady. “I didn’t doubt you for a second, baby.”

Maybe I should have asked about something like that, but I kept forgetting what she did for a living…I kept forgetting there was money leaving my bank account weekly to pay for every minute I spent with her. Hell, I kept forgetting everything except for the fact that I was confident she belonged to me.

She shook her head, her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. “I just…I didn’t want you to think…” Her voice trailed off, her hands gripping the sheet tighter.

I knelt down and parted her folds with my tongue, holding her gaze the entire time as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Logan,” she moaned, her hands fisting in my hair. I might be bald after this, but it would be worth it.

I pushed my tongue into her cunt, desperate for more.

She moaned again. So sexy that it took me a second to realize there was something off about the sound.

I did my best flicking trick, and she moaned again…and again, and each time I became more and more convinced.

She was faking it.

That was not going to fly.

I pulled my mouth away and frowned as I assessed her perfect face. No rosy cheeks, no glossy eyes. The sound had been right, she’d been writhing against my face…but she was definitely faking it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her lips pursing as she studied me right back.

“How did that feel?” I asked her, and a look of confusion spread across her face.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was cautious…almost nervous-sounding, which rarely happened with Sloane. I lived for the moments when her walls came down and I saw past the tough-girl exterior she wore like a shield.

“Tell me how that felt,” I ordered calmly.

She palmed my cheeks and tried to bring me back to her core. “Amazing, keep going,” she said soothingly.

I licked her once more, because I couldn’t help it, and then pulled back again.

“You’re faking,” I said matter-of-factly. “You’re not enjoying this at all.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it before a fake laugh erupted from her lips.

“It feels so good. I love it,” she lied.

I leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on her thigh. “Those sexy little moans and those sweet words coming from that perfect fucking mouth may have fooled the assholes you’ve been with before. But they’re not fooling me. Tell me what you like. We’re not going to stop until it feels so good you’re screaming and riding my face and begging for more.”

She turned her head to her side, her white teeth biting into her plump bottom lip.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Here’s a little thing about me, baby, my favorite thing about sex is pleasuring my partner. And since I’m positive that sex with you is going to be the best thing I’ve ever experienced, I want to make sure it’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced as well.”

She was quiet for a long moment, and I took the time to skim my fingers down her smooth thighs, trying to think up my best tricks to get my girl going.

I was in it to win it.

“I’ve never been able to…”

I waited for her to finish the sentence. I was obviously slow in the head since it took me more than a second to realize what she was talking about.

“You’ve never?” I asked. It wasn’t a stretch to say that my girl was very…experienced. The idea that she’d never gotten off with all of those pathetic fuckers was…I don’t know that I’d ever been more shocked…and pissed off.

She was still averting her eyes, staring at the wall like it held the secrets of the universe.

“I’ve gotten myself off, I just…” Her words were halting, and her cheeks were the flushed color I’d been hoping they'd be while I was eating her out. “No one’s ever been able to make me come. I don’t think it’s possible.”

My fingers were still making small circles on her skin as my mind raced with ideas.

“Oh, it’s possible, Red.”

“Red?” she asked, sounding amused.

“Yep, because those red lips torture me every time I look at you—I love them so much.”

Her blush deepened.

“You’ve just never had someone with the right touch. Your body obviously has standards,” I continued.

She finally met my gaze, a small smile on her lips that I could tell she was trying to hide. “You sound very cocky, Mr. York. You should know, no one’s even come close.”

“Not cocky, just confident, baby. And along with my superb skills, I also happen to be the most determined motherfucker on the planet. So it feels like I have everything going for me,” I replied, feeling like perhaps I’d just discovered my purpose on this Earth. I’d always thought it was hockey, but obviously I’d been wrong. It was to take care of Sloane Calloway—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Not sure what that last one meant, but I was quite sure that this girl was the closest thing to heaven I could get, so it seemed to fit.

I sat up, determination sinking down my veins as I searched the room for a pen and paper.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she sat up and watched me search the room.

I got lost for a second staring at her bare skin. It was sort of an out-of-body experience looking at her. You started to think that maybe you had died or something or she’d been created by an alternate being than the rest of us—she was just that perfect-looking.

She stretched her arms above her head, fully taking advantage of all that perfection as she smirked at me. “Come back to bed,” she pouted.

I shook my finger at her, finally finding a pad of paper. “Nope. I can see right through you. You think it’s not possible, and you’re trying to distract me with all of that.”

Sloane slowly opened her legs, revealing the prettiest pussy I’d ever seen as she slid her hand down her body. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over here?” she purred.

I had to shake my head to keep a clear head. Because in fact, yes, I did want to go over there. Badly.

But it would be much easier for her to keep her distance from me if she didn’t connect with me during sex.

I’d meant what I’d said.

I was in it to win it. I wanted her body. Her heart. Her fucking soul. I wasn’t going to let her keep anything from me, no matter how hard she tried. Sloane was mine, and I would settle for nothing less than owning all of her.

Watching her touch herself did give me an idea, though. I brought the pen and paper with me as I grabbed the desk chair and dragged it over to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing now?” she asked, an edge of exasperation in her voice since she couldn’t get me to do what she wanted.

“I’m going to watch you touch yourself. You said that you can get yourself off. Well, I want to watch, study what you like, memorize everything you do so that I can do it too,” I said smugly, feeling very good about my plan. Her mouth was open as I got up and adjusted my chair so I had the perfect viewing position. “Proceed,” I said magnanimously, gesturing for her to continue.

I’d truly shocked her. She had no idea how to proceed. It was obvious that Sloane thrived on control. She didn’t have any in very important facets of her life, so what she could control, she did with an iron grip. It was my goal to give her back control in all the things she’d lost and to take over in other ways she would enjoy. My poor girl had no idea how to proceed.

I watched as determination filled her gaze. “Fine. You can watch me. But you’re not allowed to touch,” she said brattily, as if I was going to say no to that. Her fingers began to slide through her folds as she locked eyes with me challengingly. “Do you think you can do it?”

Grinning, I dropped the pad of paper on the floor and undid my dress slacks, pulling my dick out. I’d have to take mental notes because there was no way my hands could do anything but play with my dick during this. “As long as I can touch myself while I watch, I think I can manage that, Red.”

Sloane resembled a cartoon character as she stared at my dick, her eyes wide, her mouth dropping open even more…a blush spreading across her chest that I was certain was my new favorite color.

Yeah, baby, you’re going to have all of this .

Still staring at my dick, she worked herself, sliding one finger and then another into her core as her other hand pulled at her nipple. I studied her movements in a way that would ensure me perfect grades in school, taking note of every brush of her hand, every push against her clit, every way she touched her breast.

Holy fuck, I was turned on.

Gripping my dick like it was a lifeline, I yanked my fist up and down, pinching my head every few seconds so I didn’t embarrass myself and blow all over my hand before she was done.

I’d never seen anything as hot as her hands gliding over her hips and thighs, cupping her breasts and pushing them together as her hips thrust forward like I was fucking her. She pushed three fingers inside herself, her thumb desperately rubbing against her clit.

And through it all, her beautiful blue eyes were locked on my dick, her tongue sliding across her lips like she was imagining taking me into her mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” I said hoarsely. “Touch that pussy, show me what a good girl you are, make yourself come for me.”

A low moan slid from her lips—that sounded nothing like her earlier fake attempts.

I grinned as I pinched the tip of my head again, because fuck, knowing she was feeling good could be my kryptonite.

“Is that a fourth finger, my dirty girl? My cock is going to make you feel so good. I can’t wait to feel that tight cunt. Listen to that sound. You’re so fucking wet right now.”

She cried out, and a trickle of pre-cum fell on my hand. Fuck, I was close.

“Can I taste you, is that allowed?” I begged, feeling like I might die if she didn’t say yes.

“Yes. Fuck. Please,” she gasped, holding out her fingers to me like an offering from the gods.

Eagerly lapping at the essence on her skin, I groaned as I tasted her. This was it. This was what I wanted to live on for the rest of my life. She had to give it to me.

I sucked her finger harder when she tried to remove it, my tongue stroking her skin and making sure I got every drop of her flavor. She rasped out a laugh at my desperation, like she was well aware of the spell she had cast on me with just one taste.

“I’ll give you more if you’re a good boy,” she teased, throwing my words back at her. I reluctantly let her go, determined to be a very, very good boy—forever—if that was what the reward was.

Her hand went back to her pussy, and I soaked in the sight. She was so wet that her thighs were glistening. It was all I could do not to feed directly from the source. But this was a learning expedition, I had to remember that.

“Keep going,” I urged, sounding more like I was begging than anything else. My hand had a mind of its own at that point, gripping my dick, hard, as I imagined pushing inside her.

She circled her clit with one hand while massaging her breast…and then there it was, her back arched off the bed as her whimpers filled the room and she fell off the edge.

A few more tugs, and I was coming, harder than I could ever remember, my groans joining her cries as rope after rope of my cum coated my hand and the floor. I’d clean it up later, I decided, as I slumped back into my chair, still mesmerized by the sight in front of me. Sloane was a glowing, glorious mess , her breasts rising and falling enticingly as she came down from her orgasm.

That was what I wanted to see. It was what I would look for in the future when I needed to make sure she was telling me the truth. The memory of tonight would be the star of every future wet dream, any time I jacked off.

Fuck. She was divine.

My new religion.

And I intended to worship her every day.

“So, did you learn anything?” she finally asked in a sexy raspy voice that had my dick ready to go all over again. She sat up, her arms behind her, breasts jutting out in a way that had my mouth watering.

I wondered how much of her movements were a result of practice, or if she was naturally that sensual. Either way I didn’t care.

“So much. I’m going to get an A-plus next time…that’s a promise.”

Sloane grinned, watching me as I got up and walked into the bathroom. I cleaned myself up before I stripped off the rest of my clothes and came back into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” she asked as I slid into the bed and pulled her close to me.

“We’re cuddling, Sloane. It’s an epic love story kind of thing.”

“Oh,” she said, her body stiff at first as I curled myself around her, my already hard cock poking into her skin. “You need help with that? Or we could have sex,” she suggested, pressing back and torturing me as she moved against me.

Yes. I definitely wanted help with that. And I definitely wanted sex.

But not tonight.

“Go to sleep, Sloane,” I murmured, memorizing what had to be one of the best moments of my life.

“And when we wake up, I’m going to make you come.”

“I think I might believe you,” she whispered.

I squeezed her. “I’m going to keep going until you do.”

Between the game and the epic orgasm, my eyes were already sliding closed, but I was pretty sure the last words I heard before I fell asleep?—

“That’s what I’m afraid of…”