Page 47

CHAPTER 45

LOGAN

Ari: I’d like to file a complaint.

Lincoln: …

Ari: This is serious, Golden Boy. And it’s against you.

Walker: The drama queen is in this morning, boys.

Ari Lancaster removed Walker Davis from the chat.

I grinned when a second later:

Lincoln Daniels added Walker Davis to the chat.

Me: What’s the problem, Lancaster? I’ll be judging complaints today.

Ari: Ha. I just Lol’d. Blake gave me a look. As if that would ever be your job, Rookie.

I scoffed.

Me: It could be my job.

Camden: No, it could never be your job.

Camden: But it could be mine.

Ari: Well it can’t be Lincoln’s, and we know Disney is just his simpy pawn, so I guess you’ll do.

Walker: Did you really just call me a simpy pawn?

Ari: If the shoe fits.

Me: …

Lincoln: Look at Rookie, thinking he’s all grown up and able to … people.

Me: What does that mean? “Able to.”

Me: I have a tattoo on my penis. And a butterfly on my back, might I add! That completely counts.

Lincoln: Nobody wants to hear about your dick, Rookie.

Me: I would actually venture to guess by the ten million views I have on my burger ad that there’s a lot of people out there who want to hear about my dick.

Lincoln: …

Walker: …

Ari: Back to me, please.

Ari: I’d like to file a complaint against Lincoln “Golden Boy” Daniels for the misappropriation of my alter ego.

Camden: Maybe I shouldn’t be the judge. Because I’m really confused right now.

Walker: No worries, Hero. I’ll step in. But also, I have no idea what you’re talking about either, Lancaster.

Ari: Batman is what I’m talking about. BATMAN.

I snorted. Because out of all the things he could have said…that was not what I would have expected.

Wait a minute. I gasped in outrage.

Me: We said we weren’t going to discuss this with him, Daniels! We said this was a secret.

Lincoln: Well, evidently it’s not a secret when he gets stuck inside Blake, and I have to help him again. That’s very Batman type behavior, isn’t it?

Ari: THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!

Lincoln: Just because you dressed up as Batman once at a Halloween party…does not a Batman you make.

Ari: That made absolutely no sense.

Walker: It made perfect sense to me.

Ari: Of course it did, Disney. Because you’re a simpy pawn. It’s definitely what a simpy pawn would say.

Camden: I mean, I’m definitely not a “simpy pawn” unless that means certified badass. But…Lincoln does kind of act like Batman.

Me: It’s true. He always knows things. And he knows people. Very Batman-like.

Ari: Let me let you all in on a secret. He learned everything he does from me.

Lincoln: …

Lincoln: That’s an outrage for you to even say that about Batman.

Ari Lancaster removed Lincoln Daniels from the chat.

I grinned as I added Lincoln back in.

* * *

SLOANE

This was the first time I’d ever been excited about going to a hair appointment—the first time I’d felt buzzed with energy and possibility. The scent of hairspray and shampoo lingered in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of coffee brewing somewhere in the back. The hum of hairdryers and the low murmur of conversation created a kind of white noise that wrapped around me, settling my nerves and, at the same time, lighting them up.

This was it. I was finally doing it.

The hairdresser, a woman in her late thirties with vibrant pink curls that looked like they belonged in a music video, met me with a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Melanie,” she said, leading me toward a station near the back of the salon. She had this effortless cool vibe that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could pull this off.

I sat down in the chair, staring at my reflection in the large mirror. It was just me, as I’d always been. My safe, brunette hair, no crazy colors, nothing wild or bold. It was safe. Pleasing.

Exactly what Everett had wanted.

Melanie looked at me in the mirror, comb in hand, ready to start. “So, what are we doing today?”

I didn’t even pause. The words flew out of my mouth before I could second-guess myself. “I want to dye it lavender.”

For a second, her hands stilled, the comb hovering in midair. She blinked at me, her surprise barely hidden behind her professional smile. “Lavender? That’s a bold choice.”

I grinned. “Yeah. But I think I’m ready for something bold.”

She raised an eyebrow, studying me for a moment, then smiled. “You’ve got the features to pull that off. I think it’ll look amazing on you.”

I appreciated her validation, but it really didn’t matter. I didn’t care if I looked amazing or if lavender hair was the “right” choice. This was about so much more than just hair color. It was about the freedom to choose, to do something just because I wanted to. No one was making this decision for me. I wasn’t doing it for anyone else. This was for me—and that was thrilling.

“Let’s do it,” I said, my heart beating a little faster as the words left my mouth.

Melanie nodded, her smile widening as she walked away to grab the bleach and dye necessary to change my dark hair. “You got it.”

* * *

Melanie began applying the color, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the sensation of the brush running through my hair. Each stroke felt like shedding a layer of the past, like I was finally breaking free of the invisible chains that had held me down for so long.

“So, what made you decide to go lavender?” Melanie asked casually as she worked.

I shrugged, though the real answer was complicated. “I guess I just wanted a change. Something different.”

She smiled, nodding as though she understood more than I was letting on. “Lavender is definitely different. But in a good way. You’ll turn heads for sure.”

I smiled and let the process happen, letting the minutes tick by as she carefully worked the dye into my hair. I was nervous, sure, but more than that, I felt excited. I’d never been this excited about something so simple.

When the timer went off, signaling the end of the process, Melanie led me over to the sink to wash out the dye. The warm water ran over my scalp, and I closed my eyes again, feeling the last remnants of my old self wash away.

“All right,” Melanie said after she’d finished rinsing and drying my hair. “You ready to see it?”

I nodded, my heart pounding as she turned the chair around to face the mirror again. And there it was—lavender hair. Soft, subtle, but undeniably bold. The color framed my face, transforming me in a way I hadn’t expected. I stared at myself for a moment, barely recognizing the person looking back.

“Wow,” I whispered, running my fingers through the soft strands. It was different. So different. And I loved it.

“You like it?” Melanie asked, watching me with a grin.

“I love it,” I said, a genuine smile spreading across my face. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was seeing myself—really seeing myself. And it was someone I liked.

After leaving the salon, I headed straight home.

I couldn’t wait to show Logan.

He was waiting at the door when I got there, leaning casually against the frame, but the second he saw me, his eyes lit up. That familiar grin spread across his face as he took in the change.

“Holy shit,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “You look hot.”

I laughed, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping closer and reaching out to run his fingers through my hair. His touch was soft, lingering. “This is…wow.”

I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t get too attached. I might change it tomorrow.”

He laughed, his grin widening. “What? You’re gonna go from lavender to something else that fast?”

“Maybe pink,” I teased, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Or blue. Or maybe I’ll shave it all off.”

Logan shook his head, still smirking as he leaned in closer. “You know, I always thought Smurfette was hot when I was a kid, so blue works for me. But I’m not so sure about the shaving part. If you do that, I won’t be able to hold onto it as I fuck you from behind.”

My breath stuttered. “Oh…maybe I won’t shave it off.”

His grin was beautiful. “Good girl.” He tucked a lavender strand behind my ear. “You look amazing, though.”

I bit my lip, the compliment sinking in. “Thanks. It feels amazing.”

“Good,” he said, brushing his lips softly against mine.

Later, as we sat on the couch, my head resting on Logan’s shoulder, I found myself running my fingers through my hair again. It still felt strange, like I was getting to know this new version of myself. But it also felt like another step toward freedom.

Free to choose. Free to change. Free to be with the person I love.

And finally free to love myself.

* * *

“Handcuffs are definitely underrated in my opinion,” Logan groaned as he thrust into me.

I was on my stomach, my hands handcuffed behind my back, my hips propped up on a stack of pillows as he fucked me from behind.

“Yes, let’s add them to the list,” I moaned.

The newest list we were making had been Logan’s idea. Since I’d only ever done what other people wanted me to do, I didn’t know what I liked—besides sex with Logan, of course. Logan had suggested we try everything to figure out what my favorites were.

Try everything once, and twice if we like it, so to speak.

So far I was a big fan of blindfolds, ropes, hot wax, and…handcuffs. But the list was definitely growing.

“Can’t get enough of you,” Logan groaned, his tongue licking down my spine.

“It feels so good.” I bit down on my lip as I rocked back against him.

One hand slipped under me and massaged my clit. “Yes!”

Thwack. I cried out as his other hand came down on my ass cheek, sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

“Fuck. I need to see your face,” he growled, abruptly pulling the pillows out from under me and flipping me over in one smooth move.

Thankfully, my back had long since healed, and we could do this.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, staring into my eyes as he slid all the way in, until it felt like I was in danger of being split in half. His lips sealed over my mouth, his tongue tangling lazily with mine.

“I fucking love you, Red,” he breathed, his hand cupping my breast as he teased the nipple with his thumb.

I was overwhelmed with all the sensations—the prick of the handcuffs against my ass as I lay on them being top of mind, actually. I wanted to touch him, but that was probably part of the lure of the things, feeling a little bit helpless because I couldn’t.

His mouth slid down to my breasts, and he sucked hard on the tips, groaning as he took long, hard pulls.

“Please move, baby,” I begged, desperate for more friction.

He was intent on taking his time, though, moving to the other breast and giving that nipple the same treatment. Logan released my tip with a pop before dragging his tongue softly across my skin…and then suddenly biting down. The combination of hard and soft had me thrashing underneath him, a chorus of my cries echoing around the room.

“Please, please, please,” I panted.

“We’re going to try something new,” he rasped, suddenly working his cock at a different angle that rubbed along my front wall.

“What—are you doing?” I gasped as he pressed down on my pubic bone.

“Just feel it, sweetheart, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He rubbed harder, with his dick and fingers, and suddenly I was exploding. White-hot pleasure surged through me as I squeezed his cock. I was faintly aware of the fact that I was gushing all over him, but it felt too good to care that much.

“Fuck. You’re making me come,” he growled as his head fell back, showcasing all that glorious, straining, tattooed muscle. I felt his long, hot streams of cum filling me up before he collapsed on top of me.

“Oof.” I was still feeling tiny bursts of pleasure in my core…and wetness, so much wetness. “What the fuck just happened?”

Logan groaned and rolled off me, propping himself up with one muscled arm. A huge smile stretched across his pretty face. “You squirted, and it was the fucking hottest thing ever. Can we add it to the list?”

I shifted, feeling how much…liquid there was…everywhere.

“Possibly,” I finally said, before wiggling. With the handcuffs behind me like this, my chest was arched out—not the most comfortable thing. Although Logan seemed to like it based on the way his eyes were suddenly glued to my breasts. “Can we take the handcuffs off before I decide?”

“If I must,” he said, like I’d asked the world of him. He gently shifted me and then popped open the handcuffs. I sighed in relief as he began to massage my wrists.

“I love you, Sloane,” he murmured, nuzzling against my cheek as I felt his dick somehow hardening…again.

Suddenly he was slipping something onto my ring finger.

My eyes widened as I glanced down and saw a ring with a huge ruby surrounded by an insane amount of diamonds.

“You’re going to be my wife, Red,” he said, holding my hand up in the air so we could both lie there and stare at it.

“You’re talking crazy, York,” I whispered, the happiest tear I’d ever experienced sliding down my face. “But of fucking course.”

I guess it turned out that I was going to get my happily-ever-after…after all.