her button-down shirts had to be tailored so they didn’t gap between her boobs while simultaneously billowing like a circus tent around the waist.
“Do you like them?” she asked, glancing down at the swell of her breasts above the cups of her not-so-sexy bra. She’d usually went for comfort and durability in the undergarment department, but she was suddenly longing for something skimpy, lacy, and red to show off what Logan obviously considered her best feature. So strange that she wanted to fuel his desire when she’d spent her life trying to understate her natural assets.
“What?” he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers briefly before focusing on her breasts again.
“My boobs. Do you like them?”
He shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off her cleavage. “Like is not a strong enough word.”
She grinned and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. Logan groaned when she slipped the straps from her shoulders and tossed the garment onto the back of the sofa. Her nipples were already stiff from the excitement his riveted stare offered her. Their sudden exposure to the chill in the room hardened them to uncomfortable points.
“Touch them,” Logan whispered. All the command had gone out of his tone. His words were more a plea than a request.
“You touch them.”
And he did. His hands cupped her heavy breasts, lifting them, massaging them, allowing them to drop, pressing them together. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. She felt a strange rush of empowerment.
“Take your clothes off,” she demanded. Her confident tone didn’t give away the twinges of nerves in her belly. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he refused. Should she play hard to get to gain his cooperation? She would definitely be playing. But she didn’t need to worry. He released her breasts long enough to hastily shed his clothes and then filled his palms with them once more, his thumbs and forefingers pinching at her nipples. Her body jerked as pleasure radiated through her breasts and down her belly. She gasped in surprise when her pussy throbbed with anticipation.
Logan prodded her in the hip with his stiff cock. “Touch it.”
She almost told him to touch it himself, but somehow the thought of watching him rubbing the length of his cock with the same hands he had on her breasts was far naughtier than touching it herself.
“You’re blushing,” he said, and she lifted her head to find him grinning at her. “What are you thinking? Dirty thoughts?”
“I can’t say,” she said, her heart suddenly thudding.
“You can tell me anything.”
She wet her lips and stared at his shoulder as she said, “I was thinking about you touching yourself.”
“Masturbating?”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No, just touching it. Not, not making yourself . . .” She swallowed hard as she remembered the look on his face when he came. “Do you do that?”
He chuckled. “Sometimes. Do you want to watch me jerk off, Toni?”
She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle it. And wouldn’t he be embarrassed for her to witness something so shameful? She hadn’t realized she’d asked the question aloud until he answered.
“You think it’s shameful?”
She stared up at him, not sure how to respond. Didn’t he think it was shameful?
“You masturbate, don’t you?”
“Of course not!” she said. But her denial was a complete lie. She masturbated on occasion, but she didn’t want anyone—not even Logan—to know she was so desperate for sexual release that she gave it to herself.
“You’re kidding.”
She shook her head vigorously, though she couldn’t meet his eyes. She knew he’d see right through her lies.
“Not even in the shower?”
“Sometimes it feels good when I clean myself down there.” She covered her mouth with her hand, unable to believe she’d just told him that. Next she’d be telling him about her infatuation with the massaging showerhead.
“So you never had an orgasm before I gave you one?”
“Um . . .” she said, frustrated by the entire conversation. Yes, she’d had orgasms, but after being with him and seeing how explosive getting off could be, she wasn’t sure those little ripples of pleasure she gave herself—or the showerhead gave her—really counted.
He gaped at her as if he were talking to the biggest idiot on the planet. “You really don’t know how to get yourself off?”
She shrugged. “Nothing prepared me for the things you do to my body.” That was not a lie, at least.
“Don’t you talk about these kinds of things with your girlfriends?”