Semper Fi (An Erotic Romance) Page 5
Logan was content to lick my entire body. He moved from my lips to my neck and down to my breasts, leaving a trail of wet saliva as he kissed, licked and tasted. Shivers shook me, the feel of his tongue on my skin and the chill of the wetness left behind was a deadly combination. I was right initially; this guy was dangerous as hell. My body screamed for him as he took his time satisfying me. Finally he moved into my opening. I could feel the dampness between my legs and hoped that it would be enough for him to slide inside. Again, he pressed hard against the beginning of my pussy. Instantly I snaked my legs around him; he might change his mind at any second about me and I couldn’t chance it being this one. As he slid forward over me, he took my left breast into his mouth, sucking it and taking small nips at it with his teeth. I moaned loudly trying to stifle my sounds in a pillow I’d grabbed from the bed. I bit into the pillow hard as his warm mouth pulled my hard nipple inside.
His fullness pushed inside me as he sucked my breast. The sensations drowned me as he filled me to the brim. Finally I knew he’d reached my fullest depths. I groaned and whimpered with need. Logan moved his face to mine, “Mattie, hold on.”
At first I thought he meant “hold on” I’d be satisfied in a minute, he literally meant hold on! I was whisked from the bed, still fully impaled on his hard prick. He carried me to the dresser across the room and perched my ass just barely on the cold cherry wood surface. My thighs were wrapped around his narrow hips as he began slowing pushing inside me. Slow withdrawals and plunges sent me reeling. “Oh fuck!” I screamed involuntarily.
He reached below me into the dresser drawer. I faintly heard a buzzing sound before his hand slid a small buzzing dildo onto my clit. I moaned into his mouth as my orgasm flushed over me quickly. He pushed to my depths as I crushed my face into his neck. His tongue retreated and his head pressed hard against the side of mine. Somewhere from inside him a profound groan issued as he filled me with his semen. My body responded with shudders and waves of orgasms. I could feel my inner walls milking every drop he had. His body was rock hard against me as the throbbing slowed. I snuggled against him, still holding on for dear life. In my mind we were both floating through the air, he was my only ground.
Logan carried me back to the bed, yanking the bedspread back, exposing plaid flannel sheets. He put me in the center and crawled in next to me covering us with the thick spread. He leaned on his side over me, his muscular chest rippling between us. His fingers traced my face, “Sorry about that, I can’t control myself with you. I promise I’ll work on duration from now on! I haven’t had much practice in a while.” He looked truly apologetic.
I touched his face, feeling the shape of his nose, his ears and drawing imaginary lines around his green eyes. “I can’t imagine it being any better, but I’m here to help you practice.”
We both laughed but soon our eyes closed, we drifted off intertwined.
Chapter 7
Darkness filled the cavernous room when I opened my eyes. I panicked. How long had I slept? I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and pushed the rubber button. It was after nine! We’d slept all day!
Then I heard them. Angry voices rose from downstairs. I leaned down and pulled my back pack onto the bed. I slid into pajama bottoms and a sorority shirt and opened the bedroom door. It was Logan… and a woman. I couldn’t make out what was being said but it wasn’t a pleasant discussion. I tip toed down the massive staircase.
At the bottom of the stairs I noticed my pink suitcase from the airport. Someone had gone and picked it up, a thoughtful gesture. Logan seemed to have a solution to every problem I had.
“I really don’t think you should be bringing your little whore here!” the female voice taunted from the right of the hallway. I’d noticed that room before; it was his father’s office.
Logan’s voice sounded threatening, dangerous. “We need to get this straight Patty, if I hear of you saying anything like that about her again I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Make sure I don’t get another...” The woman cut him off.
I stepped into the doorway, “Another what?” I said plainly as I absently pulled my hair into a ponytail. I wasn’t easily intimidated. Logan’s size was intimidating, but this woman gave me no reason to fear her.
She was my mother’s age; platinum blond and manicured to the core. I knew women like this. Every part of her body had been adjusted so that it was aesthetically pleasing. All parts fake.
A noise resembling the hiss of a snake emanated from her painted lips, “Nevermind.” She huffed and barged past me. I moved out of the way as she barreled out the front door and slammed it shut.
“You all aren’t much for introductions here, are you?” I said as I walked into the room and plopped down on the plush sofa. Logan was leaning against a large intricately carved desk in the center of the room.
“She’s a bitch and not worthy of an introduction.”
“Who is she?” I quizzed.
Logan’s face showed his anger, muscles I’d not seen before were popping out on his neck and forehead. “That is the infamous Patricia Johnson,” he groaned.
“And she’s important, why?” I fiddled with my hair, attempting to keep it piled on my head.
“She’s not.” Logan still glared with fury, but he walked around the desk and sat down in the leather oversized chair.
I spotted a fully stocked bar in the corner of the office. “Want me to fix you a drink?”
He stared at me as though he hadn’t understood my words. Finally he said, “You’re the guest here, and I’m being rude as hell. How about I fix you a glass of wine?”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
“What are you having?” I asked as he found his way behind the bar.
“I don’t drink,” he shrugged, “not anymore.”
My mind recalled the accident as I’d read it on the internet. Suddenly two and two came together. Patty Johnson, Leila Johnson… the woman yelling at Logan must have been Leila’s mother! If Logan was honest in saying that he hadn’t brought a woman here before, then no wonder she was upset. Did I really have the distinct honor of being the first woman he’d been with in four years? I’d doubted his truthfulness on that, now it seemed plausible.
He handed me the glass of dark red merlot and sat down next to me on the sofa. I took a long sip and peered over the top of the glass at him. “Logan, is it really true that you haven’t been with anyone since… what, four years?”
He moved the stray hairs from my face, “Baby its true.” He smiled tenderly at me, “No one seemed worth it until now.”
“Define it?” The wine was warming my body now. It had to be, or I wouldn’t be referencing Clinton quotes.
“Worth dealing with demons,” he muttered as much to himself as to me.
“And she was one of the demons?” I indicated the recently slammed front door.
Logan chuckled, “Not really. Actually she pales in comparison to the ones inside me.”
I sipped more wine trying to understand his garbled message. “Listen Logan, I’ve had a great time with you, but I think it might be best if I head home soon.”
He sat silently considering, “Too fucked up for you to deal with, huh? I get it.”
“What? No! It just seems like my being here is causing problems.”
He touched my face, “You being here makes me happier than I’ve been in a long, long time.” He kissed my wine stained lips with a tenderness that elicited throbs from below my waist.
“Well then, since I slept all day, what would you like to do tonight?” I tempted.
“Hmm... the correct answer is…” He lifted me in one swoop and carried me into the family room.
Dumping me on the couch he strode to the giant flat screen next to the fireplace. “Any preferences on what to watch?”
“I wasn’t planning on watching a movie,” I teased poutingly.
“Fine, I’ll pick!” He ignored my eagerness.
As Independence Day started on th
e screen, he snuggled up beside me and pulled a thick fleece blanket on top of both of us. “This is my all time favorite!” I crooned as the blip, blip, blip sound emanated from various speakers in the ceiling.
“Too funny! Mine too!” He rubbed my thigh affectionately.
His hands felt calming, almost soothing to the touch. As his fingers gently slid up my thigh, little jolts of electricity seemed to be directed right to my very core. I could feel my nipples hardening; just a consequence of him being near. His strong fingers massaged my leg, washing away any thought I might have had of the movie or anything else in my world. He shifted, lifting his muscular arm around my neck, allowing me to bury my head in his chest, taking in his incredibly masculine scent. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, sliding my hand across his chest as I felt the muscles under my finger tips. His skin was hot to the touch, rivaled only by the building lust I had for him. I dropped my hands to the blanket, testing his interest in this situation. Just as I suspected, the hard lump under my hand seemed to have a heartbeat of its own. I had so many questions, but not the nerve to ask. And all the while, all I could think of was holding him.
I slid my hand under the blanket, and inside the top of his shorts, fumbling around to free his cock; at one point raking my nails across his most sensitive skin. Once I was finally able to wrap my fingers around him, I had his full attention. I slowly stroked his cock, at first with a very light touch, then a firmer grasp. I pretended to watch the movie, but my focus was really on him. After a couple of minutes, I could no longer control myself. I had to have it.
I pushed back the blanket and lowered my lips, just barely touching the head. I guided his cock around my lips, savoring the moment. The heat alone that emanated was enticing, and as his fingers began to run through my hair, I lost all control. I did my best trying to wrap my lips around it. The head alone almost completely filled my mouth. I ran my teeth over it, pulling it out of my mouth and kissing the side. I ran my tongue around the rim, then over the top, tasting his sweet juices as the puddle there before running down the underside to my hand. I kissed up and down, and then lightly sucked the sides. I literally rubbed his massive cock all over my face, feeling the slight wetness on my cheek. His hand now moved to the back of my neck, encouraging me to take it down my throat. I wanted to, but I knew it would never fit. But my desire to please him overwhelmed me as I stuffed that gargantuan cock past my lips and into the back of my throat.
Logan groaned deeply as he struggled to watch my every movement.
His hand on my neck felt way better than I imagined, giving me the confidence to try even harder. His moans of pleasure confirmed that at least my attempt was adequate. I stroked the base as I made love to his cock. It swelled even larger in my hand and mouth, preparing me for the impending orgasm. And he did not disappoint, flooding my mouth as I tried desperately to swallow every drop, marveling at the sweet and salty mixture. My attempt was futile, and most of it seemed to overflow down his shaft and cover my hand.
As he relaxed, he lifted my head and held me against his broad chest, confirming his satisfaction and making me feel safe and secure.
Chapter 8
Logan was sound asleep on the sofa. I decided I needed to at least find my birth control pills in my luggage. The rolling pink suitcase still sat in the foyer where someone had been kind enough to leave it for me. I had a feeling it’d been Ronald. I’d have to remember to thank him later. I pulled it step by step up the stairs as quietly as possible. Logan’s Georgetown townhouse had been modernized but it still retained the creakiness of an old home. Each stair seemed to have its own peculiar sound. Finally I got to the top and wheeled the heavy suitcase into Logan’s room. At least I assumed it was his room. He seemed to have it filled with condoms and interesting buzzing toys. It did lack the sense that he’d spent much time there. I opened my case, found my pills and took one. I found my bedroom slippers and tossed them onto the floor, sliding my chilled toes into their fuzziness.
The room was dark, and the small sliver of light that peered from underneath the closet door caught my attention. I stepped to the door and twisted the handle. It wouldn’t turn. I pulled on the door harder, still it was solidly locked. Maybe it was a doorway to the room next door, I thought randomly. I stepped lightly into the hallway, a pale light also shined beneath the door adjacent to Logan’s room. Again I twisted the handle and pulled. Nothing the door was locked tight.
Perhaps it was his Dad’s room and locked until Logan, or someone, could go through his Dad’s belongings. But as I wandered further down the upstairs landing I realized that the spacious room at the end of the hall was definitely the Master bedroom. I stepped in and flicked on the light. Photos of their family covered every surface. There was no doubt I was being nosey, but the photos attracted me. Knowing more, all there was to know, about Logan McNarry was something that interested me. I could trail his entire life through the beautifully framed pictures in this single room. This room had clearly belonged to a man who cherished his family.
It was quite the contrary depiction of the father Logan described. As I wandered from photo to photo of Logan with his mother, with his father and various other cousins, aunts and uncles (judging from their unique green eyes), I realized that some of the framed photos had been recently removed. At least ten spots stood awkwardly empty among the array. There were no dust spots, only blank areas on the dressers. After being here a day I was sure Gracie firmly controlled everything that went on in this house. If someone removed photos it was her. Why she hadn’t rearranged the frames to fill in the blank areas was curious. I’d have to remember to ask her.
I drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. The plush chair next to the couch where Logan was snoring was my bed. The grumbling of my stomach woke me. I rubbed my eyes and shifted in my chair. What was that smell? It drew me.
The television was on in the kitchen, and Gracie stood over the smoking stove frying bacon. Eggs, grits and toast were already on the kitchen table. “That smells fantastic!” I said as I meandered into the room.
“Well, sit yourself down and lemme fix you some juice.” Gracie smiled a perfect white smile.
She handed me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice as I chose a chair at the table. “I’m Mattie. Logan didn’t introduce us yesterday. He seems to have a problem with that.”
“I know who you are girly, and we’re all just thrilled you’re here.” Gracie smiled again as she patted my back lovingly.
“Not everyone is glad I’m here,” I mumbled remembering the encounter with Patricia.
“What you talkin’ about child?” Gracie slid steaming bacon onto my plate.
I spread jelly on my toast as I recounted what had happened the night before with the blond woman.
“Tsk, tsk. That woman ain’t got no business coming over here and fussin’ at Logan after he just lost his Daddy. Money grubbin’ whore,” Gracie fumed.
I ate my toast as she banged around the kitchen mumbling. Finally she sat down at the table with two cups of coffee. She put four tablespoons of sugar in hers, and poured heavy cream from a china cup in it as an after thought. “Girly, I made those grits ‘specially for you. Lord knows Logan ain’t eatin’ no grits. Been trying to airplane them in him since he’s a baby, no go on that.”
She scooped a large spoonful of the grits into a bowl and passed it to me. “I haven’t had grits since the last time I was home!” I surveyed the accoutrements on the table. “You have any tobasco sauce, Gracie?”
She laughed heartily, “Everyone’s got their own way of eatin’ grits now don’t they?” She chuckled as she wobbled to the cabinet and pulled out a red bottle of the spicy sauce and handed it to me.
“Looks like you two are getting along,” Logan muttered from the doorway rubbing his eyes. He was wearing flannel pajama pants and a tee shirt. When I covered him up with the blanket, he hadn’t been wearing pants; I recalled warming at the thought. When had he gotten up and put pants on?
&nbs
p; “Of course we’re gettin’ along, you fool. Now sit yourself down here and lemme fix you a plate.”
“Thanks Gracie.” Logan smiled and hugged the large woman before he sat down next to me.
I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Gracie about the photos I saw last night, or rather the non-photos. But once again, the sight of Logan in the morning took precedence over my thoughts.
“So what you kids up to today?” Gracie resumed her seat at the table with us and sipped her coffee.
Logan dug into the plate she’d given him. “Damn this is good Gracie!”
“You ain’t cussin’ in my kitchen again are ya? Cause I got a bar of soap with your name on it, boy.”
“Sorry,” he said, poking his lips out in a pout to get her sympathy.
I laughed, but only in complete empathy. I’d had my mouth washed out with soap as a child far too many times.
Logan shot me a curious glance. “What? You’ve never had your mouth washed out with soap?”
“Oh yeah I have! More times than you I bet!” I rolled with laughter.
“Doubtful,” Gracie chimed in.
“So where’s our little Mattie from?” Ronald asked shaking the rain from his jacket as he hung it on the hook beside the back door.
“Close that blasted door, fool!” Gracie fumed at him.
Ronald pushed the door closed and headed for the coffee pot. Gracie turned her stare towards me. “So?”
I swallowed my coffee, “Charleston.”
“Ah Chaleson!” Gracie repeated in her own version. I nodded.
“Been there a buncha times. Love it.” Gracie commented as if her mind was wandering to days past.
Logan glanced at me curiously. I’d told him I was from Charleston so no surprise. “Do you sail?” He questioned.