Blow - Kim Karr Page 0,86

of pleasure causing me to cry out.

Logan kissed my neck and slowed his fingers as my body shuddered beneath him. When my grip on him let up, he cupped me as he had in the beginning, his palm pressed tight to my sex.

My body was limp and sated. I felt amazing, but then I made the mistake of thinking how I’d never enjoyed a man making me come like I just had. The thought caused me to freak out a little.

Was I now going to be a sex addict like my father?

I tried to catch my breath but couldn’t at first. When Logan went to kiss me, I turned my head and his mouth landed on my cheek. Mine landed in the crook of his neck. Since his eyes were closed, I’m certain he thought it was just mechanics.

With a deep inhale, I caught his scent and immediately started breathing more steadily. He calmed me without even knowing it and wanting more of him, I moved my mouth to find his. I wanted to lose myself in him again.

Even though my body was limp and languid, his lips on mine were all I needed to restoke that fire that was already burning within me. Not only did I want to feel more of what I’d just felt, I wanted Logan to feel the exact same thing. The idea of give and take was what stopped me from thinking what my mind had just been skating around.

With desperate urgency, I found his pants and unzipped them. He helped me out again by shoving them down. When he stood before me in only his black boxer briefs, my arousal escalated to an alarming level.

I needed to touch him.

There.

My fingers grazed along the outside of the soft fabric and he was long and full. I just had to see him. With a prowess I had only ever made myself exhibit in the past, I eased off those Calvin Kleins. I was doing this willingly. My sexual interest in Logan was anything but forced. In fact, I had to take a moment to admire him. The leanness of his body didn’t reflect the fullness of his cock. I wanted him.

Sex was next on the table. It was a fact. Since my limbs were no longer in a Jell-O-like state, I reached for him and stroked him up and down. He was silky soft and really hard. Logan made a noise and I looked up. As soon as our eyes collided, he dropped his mouth to my ear. His voice was tight, low, and thick with need when he whispered, “Let’s get your pants off.”

I couldn’t have wanted anything more.

He said nothing more—I was glad. I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if he had. That’s not true. I would have stayed, because that one glimpse into his eyes told me everything I needed to know. It was an odd mix of emotions I saw there—fear and lust, maybe. Whatever it was, it was enough to make me want to understand him.

Without hesitation, as soon as I stood, he moved behind me and slid my pants down. I shuddered the entire time his hands glided over my hips and down my thighs. When my pants and panties were off, he blew a warm breath in my ear and kissed my neck. I shuddered again. Something about the intimacy of the way he kissed my neck had my stomach fluttering. If I were romantic, which I am not, I’d say that although he was bold with his body, to the point of being unfaltering, he was almost tender, sweet even, with his mouth. It was that whole hot/cold, hard/soft thing I’d pegged him with last night.

Logan glanced around the room. “Follow me.” His voice was just as soft as it had been a few moments ago.

It didn’t bother me that he’d told me what to do; in a way his words had almost been posed as a question, as if he knew I wouldn’t take being ordered around well.

The space was vast but surfaces to fuck on were not. We had the couch, which could work, but it was rather narrow; we had the wall, or . . . I spotted it right away . . . we had the table, and condom in hand, that’s where he was taking me.

Both of us completely bare in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, he led me to the corner table with no hesitation. My breath grew louder