“We need to say goodbye.” I tugged him in the direction of the table and my friends.
He groaned, but followed behind me dutifully. I glanced down at his jeans to see if the evidence of his arousal was still visible. He caught me looking and chuckled. “I’m presentable. For now.”
When we went back to the table to say goodbye, I hugged the girls while Logan gave Porter and icy handshake. At least it seemed there were no lingering hard feelings between them.
Logan’s mouth was on mine before we were even inside the apartment. He pulled me close in a full body embrace and kicked the door closed behind us.
His initial reluctance to share himself with me now seemed like so long ago as he eagerly kissed and nipped at my lips. We bumped into each other and knocked against the furniture as we clumsily made our way into the dining room without breaking the kiss. It was like a mutually unspoken agreement that the ten steps to the bedroom was too far away.
Logan walked me backwards until I bumped into the dining room table. “You. Are. Mine.”
I wondered if Porter’s attention tonight had anything to do with his declaration, but he was clearly on edge tonight. “Of course, Logan. Yours. Only yours.”
He kissed me again, and I fumbled to grip the edges of the table as my legs suddenly became unstable. My hand brushed against one of his paintings and I looked down to ensure I hadn’t messed up any wet paint. A painting of the exotic woman was staring back up at me. The one and only person he ever painted was her, and there were now half a dozen of them. I pulled away from his kisses and frowned down at the painting. “Logan, move your painting.”
“It’s fine,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss me again.
I pushed his chest back, giving myself some breathing room. “I can’t do this with her watching.”
He drew his eyebrows together, trying to infer my meaning. “Her?” He looked down at the offending painting, realizing the mysterious woman and his history with her had upset me.
He grabbed the painting, carried it across the room and stuffed it in the closet unceremoniously before shutting the door. Then he came back to me, and took my face in his hands, looking me straight in the eyes. “I don’t want that to upset you. I don’t even know who she is. It’s you and me, okay.”
For now, my inner pessimist pointed out, intent to get in the last word.
He smoothed his thumbs across my cheeks. “Okay, baby?”
I nodded, my lower lip jutting out for some reason.
“I didn’t know she upset you,” he murmured, tucking my hair behind my ears.
I released a deep sigh. “Logan, how could she not? She’s probably your girlfriend.”
“She’s someone I remember nothing about –how much could she have possibly meant to me?”
I didn’t point out that he remembered every detail of her physical appearance – enough to have half a dozen portraits of her all identical in their resemblance. Instead I tried a different tactic. “Each time you’ve seen another man show any interest in me – like my date with Jason and then tonight with Porter, you went all caveman on me and practically dragged me to your side to fuck me.” I flinched at the harshness in my words.
Logan cocked his head studying me, examining if what I said was accurate.
“Can you imagine how much worse that would feel if I had reciprocated and I was the one who was interested in them? You painting her again and again, yeah, it hurts Logan.”
“I’m sorry. I thought…you always encouraged me to try and remember, to explore whatever memories I could. Painting is the only way I can do that. She could be my sister for all I know.”
I bit my lip to avoiding reminding him of the painting of her in a bed wearing only a sheet. That painting now resided in the farthest back corner of my storage closet. Sister my ass.
“First thing tomorrow, I’ll get rid of all those paintings. She doesn’t matter to me. Listen to me, Ashlyn.” He gripped my hands, lacing his fingers between mine. “You are with me now. You’re all I want.”
A slow grin spread across my face. I should have been offended hearing him claim me as his, I was no one’s property, but instead it touched me. He was facing his fears about opening up and getting close to someone. I didn’t know exactly when he decided I was worth the risk, but it thrilled me just the same. “Yes, Logan. You’re all I want too.”
“There’s only you,” he whispered, meeting my gaze with his expressive hazel eyes.
My heart pounded in my chest, feeling like we’d crossed some barrier together. He lifted me by the hips and sat me on the edge of the dining room table, admiring my dangling legs and boots with a sexy grin. He trailed a single fingertip across my bare knee, up my thigh and just under the edge of my skirt.
“And just to clarify my caveman behavior. That guy Jason was a tool. And between Porter’s Q and A session with me, and then treating you like you were a novelty to entertain him… If I hadn’t stepped away when I did, I was ready to deck him.”
“Shut up and kiss me already.”
He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips across mine, taking his time, letting my anticipation build. I parted my lips, ready for more. His tongue swept across my bottom lip, tasting, teasing.
Thinking I could speed things up and break through his control, I grabbed onto his belt loops and hauled him closer. I began fumbling with his belt buckle. He chuckled against my mouth. “Impatient much?”
His belt must have been booby-trapped or childproof or something, but the damn latch wouldn’t open. Without taking his lips from mine, his hands joined the mission and easily released the latch. I worked my hands inside the front of his trousers to find he was already hard. He let out a soft grunt when my hand encased him, stroking gently. With each stroke I felt his hips respond, moving closer toward me. He was so incredibly sexy.
After a few minutes more of kissing and fondling him, he pulled away, passion blazing in his eyes. He reached under my skirt and began tugging my panties down. I lifted my bottom from the table to aid his task. He took his time, bending down to remove them from over my boots, then dropped them to the floor. When he stood again with his impressive erection jutting out in front of him, I released a soft whimper at the sight.
“Shh. Come here.” He dragged my hips closer to him, which pushed the skirt up as I scooted to the edge of the table. He teasingly rubbed me, his fingers sliding easily over my wet folds. He pushed my thighs further apart and situated himself in front of me. He continued stroking my sensitive bud until I was writhing against his chest, balling his shirt into my fists. “Logan…I’m going to…”
He pressed his lips to mine. “I know. Come for me, baby.” He slid one finger inside me as he continued to massage my clit. The sensations were heavenly. “God, I want to fuck you,” he breathed into my neck. His dirty whispering brought me right over the edge. I planted my hands behind me on the table, needing the support as I arched my hips forward. An intense eruption of pleasure burst from my core.
Logan wasted no time pushing his thick cock against my entrance. I was still trembling form the aftershocks of my orgasm when I felt him begin to slide inside me. I was slick and wet, but still, each inch of him stretched me to capacity and I groaned out his name.
He leaned back to admire where our bodies were joined, thrusting into me slowly while holding my knees apart. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. “Logan.”
“Fuck, you’re tight, baby.”
“Does it hurt you?” I asked.
His lips curved into a sexy smirk. “It’s the best fucking feeling in the world.” He leaned in close to kiss my lips. I grasped onto his shoulders, needing to grip him for support. He brought his hands to my ass, hauling me even closer and driving into me at the same time. “Ashlyn,” he whispered.
Logan pumped into me hard, driving deeper than ever before. His breathing was heavy and delicious, as he placed his mouth near my ear when he came. I tingled all over at the intimacy of the act, despite both of us still being fully clothed.
Logan pulled out of me, and kissed my forehead. “You are amazing.” I smiled at his compliment. I had done little more than perch on the edge of the table and take all the pleasure he could give me. But that seemed to please him.
He tucked himself back inside his pants, while I contemplated the most lady-like way to get down from the table, and wondered if my legs would even support my weight right now.
Luckily, before I had to plan my strategy, Logan lifted me from the table and carried me into my bedroom, not setting me down until I was on the bed.
“Thanks for the lift, but I still have to change and get cleaned up.”
He kissed me again and left me to get changed. I wondered if he planned to paint tonight, but by the time I had used the bathroom and put on my tank top and sleeping shorts, he’d returned, setting a glass of water on my night table.
“Drink this. I don’t want you to feel hung over in the morning.”
“Thanks.” I pressed the glass to my lips. I’d only had two glasses of champagne, but still I liked the little things he thought to do for me.
We pulled back the blankets and both slipped in, migrating to the center of the bed to be near each other.
I woke up the next morning to my phone vibrating nosily against my nightstand. I fumbled for it, knocking the alarm clock off the edge, sending it clattering to the floor. It was Porter. I frowned at the caller ID, trying to understand why Porter would be calling me early on a Saturday morning.
He hadn’t called me in months. There was a time that I regretted giving him my number. While his occasional calls started out innocently enough, like calling to get something he missed in class, his calls eventually progressed to late night ramblings, asking me if I was up for hanging out. I’d stopped answering my phone until he got the picture. Even so, he had never called me so early before.
“Hello?” I rasped, trying not to wake Logan.
“Um, hey Ash, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“No.” I didn’t know why my automatic response to that question was always no, like I was embarrassed to be found sleeping, it was only eight in the morning after all. I surveyed the bed next to me, noting Logan was already up. I flung the covers from my legs and stretched. “What’s up?”
“Well, this is going to sound strange, but I wanted to talk to you about Logan.”
Oh sheesh, give it rest, I thought. I am not interested in you, Porter. “What about?”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d meet me for coffee this morning so I could explain.”
“Porter, I thought I’d made it clear, I’m not interested.”
“That’s not what this is about. I just…may have some information on Logan you should hear.”
My stomach dropped. “Ah, yeah sure. The Imperial Room, okay?”
“Sure. Twenty minutes?” he asked.
“See you there.”
I hung up the phone and got changed. After brushing my teeth, I found Logan in the living room putting on his shoes. “Morning. Are you headed out?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He kept his eyes down and pulled on his other shoe.
Oh. I wondered where he was going.
“There’s just something I need to take care of this morning,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “I’ll be back soon.” He kissed me on the cheek and headed out the door.
I stood there for a few extra minutes, thrown off that I hadn’t even had to make up an excuse about going out.
A few minutes later, I was out the door and headed down the street to the coffee shop. Porter was already waiting inside at a table by the front window. There was a steaming mug of coffee set in front of him and a tall mug with a latte at the spot across from him. He remembered my coffee order; it was both thoughtful, and weird.
“This for me?” I asked as I approached the table and pulled out a chair.
Porter nodded and began to stand, but I motioned for him to stay seated.
I took a testing sip of the latte, but when I discovered it wasn’t too hot, took a long drink. Mmm. The bitter espresso and frothy steamed milk were a brilliant combination and just what I needed to ease my nerves over whatever it was that Porter had to say.
“So…” I began.
“So.” He smiled, playing coy. “Where to begin…” He strummed his fingers on the edge of the table.
“Porter. Just tell me what you know.” I braced myself by wrapping my hands around the warmth of the mug.
He swallowed. “Okay, first off I know how you really met Logan. At the end of the night, Liz was a little drunk, and she let it slip that Logan has amnesia.”
Oh shit. Liz would be getting a lesson in secret keeping 101. “And…” I prompted.
“And he looked familiar to me, that’s why I was asking all those questions earlier in the night. But I figured he just had a look-alike out there, or I didn’t remember clearly.”
My heart thumped in my chest, my palms dampening from the warm mug. “Remember what?”
“I think he used to date my roommate’s good friend.”
It was the strangest sensation of wanting to know yet not wanting to hear what Porter would say next. “Your roommate Shelby?” Porter’s roommate was a nice, hippie-type girl I’d met once before when Liz and I had picked Porter up for a study session. I remember Shelby sitting cross-legged on the floor, long hair hanging in her face while she knitted something out of hemp.
“Yeah, I remember him coming around once or twice a while ago. He dated one of her friends, named, um…Logan.”
I guess that explained the tattoo. I swallowed a thick lump in my throat. The latte felt like it was burning away the lining in my esophagus.
“Ash? Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”