She (14 page)

I grin, “Yes, we’ve agreed we’ll return tomorrow. Just one day and then the weekend to ourselves again.”

“Hmm, I was going to invite you shopping, but I suspect you’ll be getting your cardio in other ways.”

“I suspect so, too.”

She laughs. “I can’t
wait
to meet him, Gem!”

The thought is terrifying. No one can interrogate quite like Amber O’Conner! After Jerry cheated on me and I left our apartment and ended up on Amber and Seamus’s doorstep, she drove, in a fury, over to Jerry to get every last, seedy detail out of him, which she later recounted to me. As a result of the Jerry-debacle I know she’s protective of me, and will, at some point, give Logan the good old if-you-hurt-her-I’ll-hurt-you speech.

“Maybe next week some time?” I offer.

“Oh, can’t I come over now?
Please
!” she pushes.

“No… We’ve got plans,” I say, smiling.

She giggles. “I’ll just
bet
you do, you little minx! OK, well, have fun…duh! And call me whenever you next surface for air,” she quips.

I laugh, “Yes, will do.”

“And, Gem?”

“Hmm?”

“I really am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, babe. Talk soon,” I say, and then I hang up.

I find Logan in the bedroom sitting with his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms folded as he talks on the phone. He looks a little startled to see me, and grabbing the notepad and pen that I keep on my bedside table, he scribbles me a note:

Are you done already? I was bracing myself to be in here for hours! ;)

I grin and respond:

DO brace yourself. You WILL be in here for hours…but not alone.

I hand him the note and watch him read it. Predictably and so satisfactorily his eyes widen. He looks up at me, amused and expectant. On the other end of the line I can hear someone continually talking his ear off. Hmm, what to do about that phone?

A smile comes to my face as I decide that instead of asking him to put it down, I’ll
tempt
him to put it down. I feel like putting on a little, sexy show, and letting him look at me. In full view of Logan, I start swaying my hips, side to side, round in circles, back and forth, in all directions. His eyes are glued to them, he bites his bottom lip, knowing he’s about to be teased. In a not-so-sexy move, but one that nevertheless makes him smile, I shuffle backwards dragging my feet along the carpet until I’m free of my socks. One item down, four to go.

I toy with the edge of my shirt. I lift it a little and then let it drop. I give Logan a look to say, “
Shall I
?” and he nods back. Hmm, I pretend to consider his request and then I shake my head, and instead I unbutton my jeans and pull the zipper down. I slide my hand down the inside of my jeans and cup myself. Logan’s breathing hitches. His eyes are on my hand, which I start visibly moving against my sex.

Tempted yet?

Evidently he is. His eyes are burning with desire when he looks at my face, and breathlessly he says down the phone, “Michel, I can’t talk much longer…something’s come up.” He eyes his own erection, and I follow his eyes and stare at his crotch where something bulges promisingly against his trousers. I smile. This is fun! “I can’t… OK… Yes… One more,” he says reluctantly.

My smile broadens...longer to play with him.

In my pants I can feel I’m moist, and as I rub myself more forcefully I grow easily and sensually wetter. I writhe against my hand…and Logan is mesmerised. He keeps looking from my handy work to my face and back again, like he can’t quite believe what I’m doing in front of him. I let out a quiet moan, and he runs his hand through his hair in desperation. I’m really affecting him.
Brilliant
!

Abruptly I stop pleasuring myself and I pull my trousers down entirely, stepping out of them, closer to Logan on the bed. I like being close to him. I take another measured step forward and now I’m next to his ankles. I trail my fingers along his legs, all the way up to his crotch where I rub him a few times through the material. His mouth is open, he’s taking sharp, shallow breaths. His free hand scrambles for the notepad, and he quickly scribbles:

What are you doing to me?

His words make me smile again. I don’t answer him, I let him get a little more wound up. I turn so that my back is to him and with a bout of bravery that I’ve never had before, I keep my legs straight and pull my panties slowly down my legs. I’m bent over in front of him, and the sound of his laboured breathing makes it
so
worth it! I straighten up and sneak a peek at his expression. He looks wholly aroused. But he’s also wary, like he might not be able to take too much more.
Perfect
!

I straddle him on the bed and shuffle up so that I’m pressed firmly against him. I can feel his hardness against my sex and it makes me quiver with longing. Very slowly and deliberately I lean forward to kiss him, my eyes never leaving his. The moment we start kissing the desire we both have for one another becomes palpable. Almost unbearable. Logan holds my head against his and kisses me hard and deep. I keep myself from moaning, but only just. Then I pull away from him and pull my top over my head and throw it on the ground. Logan bends his neck and buries his face into my bare cleavage, kissing every bit of skin he has access to. I run my hands through his hair and then firmly tug his head back. He smiles at me as I do so, enjoying our little game.

“No touching until you’re off the phone,” I mouth to him.

“He won’t stop talking!” he mouths back exasperatedly.

“Not my problem,” I say cheekily, as my hands undo the buttons of his trousers. Logan’s whole body tenses. I lean forward and kiss his neck and whisper into his free ear, “Relax.”

“If I relax, I will come,” he mouths.

“Relax,” I say again with a smile, tempting him closer.

Very carefully I pull the zip down, over his bulging erection. I open up his trousers as best I can while he’s sitting on them, but it’s enough to free him. He’s going commando. Wonderful, I think, one item less to contend with. I take him in my hand as he lets out a hiss.

“Michel, I
really
gotta go, man,” he says desperately.

I hold him at the base of his shaft and then tilting my hips forward slightly I rub my sex against his.

At feeling my warm wetness Logan knocks his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. “Holy
shit
!” he mouths.

At feeling him hard and firm against my clitoris I whimper in ecstasy. I rub myself up and down his shaft, pushing forcefully, stimulating both of us. It feels
amazing
! It’s so difficult to be quiet!
Ah
! Get off the phone, I think, I’m not going to last long! The length of him is now wet and I start to move a little faster, my breathing rapid.

“O-OK,” Logan stammers. “See you tomorrow.” He hits
End Call
and slams his phone down on the bedside table, on top of the notepad. “
Gemima
!” He groans loudly.

Up and down, up and down, I slide.

“That feels
so
good!” he mewls.

“I know,” I pant. I kiss him in an attempt to distract myself from the building sensation below, but it’s no good. We’re both so aroused, so close to climax. I reach over to pull out a tissue from a box on my bedside table.

Logan grins. “Apparently you like to keep things tidy,” he says, his breathing rapid.

I give a little breathless laugh, and say, “I’m a neat freak, Logan.”

“
My
neat freak,” he says, gripping my hips, as he tenses beneath me, almost there.

I rise and fall against him a few more times, moaning is satisfaction, speeding up…reaching…climbing. The sound of my satisfaction pushes Logan over the edge and I feel the tissue saturate as he explodes in my hand. He cries out with his release, and a second later I do too, my legs tightening, my body convulsing, I orgasm magnificently.

My thoughts are in a disarray as I come down from my high, panting hard. I’m thrilled with my own confidence to put on such a show. It was fun!
So
fun!

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I do you right now,” Logan says seriously, his arms encasing me. “That strip tease was sensational, Gemima.”

“Was I teasing you?” I say, coyly. “I thought I was merely undressing.”

He smiles at me. “Every. Single. Part. Of. Your. Body. Is. Beautiful,” he says, kissing all over my torso. “And I do believe I’ve seen every part,” his lips are now against mine.

I flush a little.

“
Beautiful
,” he tells me pointedly, putting an end to my embarrassment. He starts kissing my chest again and I tilt my head back giving him easier access to my neck. He runs his tongue along my jaw and then bites my chin hungrily. “I want to kiss you all over,” he says and I smile at him.

Oh, Logan, please do! As though he can hear my thoughts, Logan abruptly rolls over so that I’m lying under him. He buries his face into my neck, kissing my skin eagerly. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation; his lips and tongue against my skin feels divine. He moves down to my chest, kissing his way along my collar bone. Then he skips over my breasts, which are still contained in my bra, and kisses my stomach, down to my belly button. I start to tense and my legs begin to quiver in anticipation as he reaches my sex.

He begins very slowly, lightly and delicately licking my clitoris. Shivers run through me, it feels so good! I want to writhe against him but like the first time he went down on me Logan holds me still. I have no choice but to absorb all the pleasure he’s delivering me. I whimper.
Ah
! It’s exquisite! But I want it harder...so soft like this is
too
much,
too
intense!
Oh
! I call out loudly.

Mercifully, Logan ends his torturously slow kissing, and claims me entirely, sucking hard. The change in momentum overwhelms me and I call out again. I’m in complete and utter ecstasy!
Jeez
, this is
so
hot! So erotic! Now he’s relentless, claiming me over and over again, pushing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I feel myself building. The pressure his tongue applies is perfection.
Ah
, yes!
Yes
!
I’m coming
, I think.

The words escape my lips before I can hold them back. “
Ah
, I’m coming!” I wail.

And I do.

5. Tell Me

In the late afternoon, after a day spent in our coitus cocoon, Logan and I set out for a walk through the streets of Paris. It’s dark by the time we reach the river; the path lights sparkle on the water, illuminating the Seine. We hold hands, both of us rugged up in numerous warm layers. It was a fun fifteen minutes we spent dressing one another. It is nice to know that it can be just as sensual putting clothes on him as it is taking them off.

“This is my favourite thing to do in Paris,” I tell Logan. “I love walking by the river.”

“Then we shall do it often,” he says, kissing the back of my hand.

“What’s your favourite thing to do here?” I ask him.

“Aside from staying at your place?”

I smile at him. Yes, these three days have been utter perfection! “Good answer, baby,” I say, reaching up to give him an awkward mid-step kiss.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me ‘baby’,” he smiles too.

“Would you prefer Logi Bear?”

“No, I like ‘baby’ better,” he says earnestly. “Let’s see…my favourite thing in Paris? Well, it’s got to be go-karting down the streets of Montmartre at midnight.” He beams enthusiastically, looking youthful and playful and completely gorgeous.

“That’s…unexpected,” I laugh. I don’t know why, though. Perhaps because it seems like such a light-hearted pastime, and aside from how he is with me, all I know about Logan is his serious, business side. “Is it an annual event?”

“No,” he chuckles, and I revel in the sound. “It’s something Buddy and I started doing fifteen years ago. Whenever we felt like it we’d take to the hills and go for our lives.”

“And hope to avoid any traffic?” I assume.

“Right,” he grins. “It’s usually quiet at that time of night.”

“When’s the last time you did it?”

He thinks back. “Uh, Christmas Eve.”

“Are you sober when you ride?”

He grins at the word ‘ride’, and my insides do a somersault. Detailed images of our day together assault my mind, making me hot under the collar. No, Gem, not here! Don’t think about
that
here!

Logan talks and I’m brought back to the present. “I’ve been both drunk and sober.”

I cringe, “Any wipeouts?”

“Only one, about four years ago. I sliced up my arm pretty good, but,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “it healed.”

I look at him reprovingly and he chuckles.

“Are you always sober when you walk by the river?” he asks me.

“Yes.”

“Good. Otherwise that would be far more dangerous than go-karting.”

“Haven’t you ever gotten into trouble for it, though?”

“No, not yet. I don’t know if it’s illegal, though it probably is. It’s certainly antisocial in the dead of night, but it’s fun as all hell!” he informs me, his eyes brimming with memories.

I grin at him. “I’d like to try it sometime.”

He smiles and nods, and then we lapse into a short, easy silence. The pathway along the bank is busy this evening, and I’m quick to notice how much attention Logan receives from the women we pass. I vaguely wonder if he notices them. It must happen all the time, I think. I’m about to ask him about it, when I decide not to; I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Instead I ask, “What else do you like to do, Logan? Other than what you do for a living, I don’t know many things about you.”

“You know
lots
of things about me,” he grins mischievously.

“You know what I mean.”

“Before last Wednesday I was very boring indeed,” he says.

“I don’t think that can be true. Tell me about you,” I urge, wanting to know.

“Um…” he thinks, “I like the ocean. The house I grew up in was right on the water. I remember hearing the waves crash as I fell asleep. Occasionally, on weekends, I go to the coast. I’ve been to several places, but I took most of a liking to Marseille, and now I’m building a hotel there.”

“Construction magnate
and
hotelier?”

He nods.

“Do you have a lot of hotels?” I wonder.

“I’ve built a lot. Around fourteen. Most I sell, but a few I’ve kept. The one in Marseille will be one of them.”

“Do you own one in Paris?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “It’s a small, boutique hotel, the first one I ever constructed. I’ve wanted to sell her in the past, but I just can’t seem to let her go.”

“
Her
?”

He grins. “Hotels are so full of life and character. Each one I’m involved with seems either masculine or feminine. The feminine ones always seem to do better.”

“Well, of course: the feminine is comforting and warm and nurturing…I suppose that’s what patrons want in a home away from home,” I muse.

“Hmm, that’s incredibly perceptive. I should write that down,” he says earnestly, and I grin at him.

“What else do you do?” I ask.

“I play fuze-ball, but I’m terrible at it. I have a table at home, but no one to play against, so…I never practice and I never get any better. Strange that.”

“Haven’t you had girlfriends over?” I ask. “Old girlfriends?” I amend.

“No. I’m a bit finicky about people being in my space,” he reveals.

Good to know. “So, does that mean you took them on your weekends away to the coast?” I wonder.

“Are you trying to pry into my dating history?”

“Maybe. After all, you know about mine.”

“The prick?”

“Yes,” I laugh.

He smiles at me. “No, I never took any girls to the coast.”

“To your hotels?”

“Never there,” he shakes his head.

Not his house, hotels, or trips away. Then where? “Do you have any social life at all?” I ask in mock exasperation.

He laughs, and it’s a beautiful, heart-warming sound. “Surprisingly, yes. But I’m…” he shrugs, “I’m comfortable in my own company, Gemima. I think a lot of people who are forced to overhaul their lives are the same. At rock bottom you have only yourself, so you learn to rely only on yourself. I guess I took that loner mentality forward into my new life. Though not totally. I have a lot of guy friends, Buddy included.”

I squeeze his hand, and reading his face I can see he appreciates the gesture. “Perhaps, now, you could learn to rely on someone else?”

“Yes, I believe I could.”

I smile broadly.
Good
, I think.
“Your turn,” he says. “If the Seine is your favourite thing in Paris, then what’s your favourite thing outside of the city?”

“Versailles,” I say immediately.

“Of course,” he smiles. “A stylish place for a stylish woman.”

“I love the gardens, the interiors…I love it all. I’ve only been once though, when I first moved here.” I shake my head at myself, “That seems really stupid given how close it is.”

“We can go together one day. I’d like to see it again, too.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” I tell him, smiling to myself. “My other favourite place is somewhere I haven’t even been yet.”

“How do you know you’ll like it, then?” he wonders, perplexed.

I shrug. “I just do. It’s a hotel called Belles Rives. It’s on the south coast, near Nice, and in the nineteen twenties F. Scot. Fitzgerald stayed there, and supposedly it inspired the setting for
Tender Is The Night
.”

“Your favourite book,” Logan remembers.

“Yes,” I smile. “Have you heard of the hotel?”

He nods, and then says, “But I’ve never been there.”

“One day…” I sigh. I’ll love it, I know I will! As we continue our leisurely pace I look up at Logan, admiring his impressive features. I am completely enamoured with this beautiful man. “You look particularly handsome under these street lights,” I tell him.

He smiles down at me and I’m reminded that he told me he only smiles when he’s with me. How can that be? Such a breathtaking smile ought to be shared with everyone.

“How about tonight?” he asks me.

“How about what?” I wonder.

“You. Me. Montmartre. Go-karting.”

My eyes widen with excitement and a few nerves. “Really?”

Logan nods. “We could go there for dinner, and then stop by Buddy’s to pick up the go-karts.”

“Does he still live there?”

He nods again. “He never left our first apartment. Instead he bought the two adjacent ones, knocked a few walls down, and hired someone you know to make it all look pretty.”

“Clemence?” I guess.

“Yup. Those two go way back.” His words are weighted.

“Care to explain?” I ask.

Logan sighs, and confesses, “They had an affair. A long standing one.”

My mind reels. “
What
? When?”

“He’s a little elusive with the information, because he knows I didn’t approve, but as far as I can gather it started about eight years ago, and was off and on for the best part of four years.”

“
Four
years? And no one found out?”

“Oh, no, people
definitely
found out!”

“But she’s married!” I blurt out.

“I know. And so did Buddy, by the way.”

“Wow…” It seems Amelie Clemence may not be as perfect a woman as I first thought! “Did they love each other?”

“I think they might have,” he says thoughtfully.

“Then why not just be together?”

“I’ve asked him that many times, and never gotten a straight answer. I think, maybe, they liked the secrecy of it all…”

I think about what it would be like to keep my relationship with Logan a secret…no holding hands in public…no kissing…no lunch dates! I’d
hate
it!

“I don’t want to keep our relationship a secret,” I announce.

Logan smiles at me. His genuine, dimple-inducing, eye-reaching smile. “Me either. Why would I ever want to hide something so glorious?”

His words surprise me. “What a lovely thing to say,” I smile up at him. Hmm, sweet Logan! We walk for a short while in silence, enjoying our surroundings. Then I wonder, “How did you find out about them?”

“I walked in on them…”

“No fucking way!”

“Alas, it is the truth,” he chuckles wryly. “I had a key to his house, for a time, and I walked in, and they were…just there…in front of me…on the sofa, going at it!”

My mouth drops open in disbelief. “You’ve seen Amelie Clemence naked?”

“Uh…” he stalls. “Parts of her.”

“Which parts? What position were they in?”

Logan laughs, saying, “This experience is something I’ve long since tried never to think about again, Gemima.”

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry,” I mumble.

He looks down at me, his eyes warm and amused. “I only saw skin, no
bits
in particular. All
bits
were being occupied.”

I giggle and pull a face at the same time, still unable to believe it.

“Buddy was on top; it’s the image of his clenched ass that haunts me the most!”

I burst into laughter and Logan joins me, shaking his head as if trying to shake out the image.

“Did they see you?”

“Oh, yes. We had that whole awkward moment of staring at one another, and then I just left. Later that night Buddy showed up at my house, and the first thing I did was give him back his key. Then he explained. It had only just started then. A couple of weeks later I saw Amelie at a work meeting, and she couldn’t look me in the eye. She was almost in tears the entire time. It wasn’t very nice.”

Amelie near tears? I can’t even begin to think what that would look like. She’s always so strong and in command and control of herself. So void of all emotion. “The Amelie I know doesn’t cry. Or have sex, for that matter. At least, that’s how I’d like to think of my boss!”

He grins and divulges, “I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone, she told me she’d end things with Buddy...which she did after four years.”

“You two didn’t seem uncomfortable when you saw each other last week.”

“It’s all water under the bridge now.” Very Logan-like, I smile to myself.

“How old is Buddy? I just assumed he’s your age.”

“He is,” Logan says, and then he grins again, “Do you know my age, Gemima?”

Uh, no, I realise. “You’re thirty-something.”

He nods. “I’m thirty-four” he says.

“I’m twenty-seven,” I tell him. “Amelie’s got to be north of forty-seven,” I say. She must like younger men! I blanch, suddenly remembering something she said to me about Logan! “When she gave me that extra half an hour for lunch, she knew I was meeting you. She said a nice man deserves a nice woman, and then joked that
she
was too old for you!”

Logan laughs.

“But what if she wasn’t joking, Logan? Oh my god,” I get abruptly carried away, “what if she wants
you
now?”

“Planet Earth to Gemima Samuels…”

“Houston we have a problem!”

“We
definitely
do
not
have a problem,” he laughs. “Clemence is
definitely
not after me! She knows I’m crazy about you, you said so yourself.”

Hmm, that’s true.
Duh
,
Gem
, I think. Clemence has only been an advocate of our relationship. After a moment, I say, “Gemima Samuels is back on Planet Earth.” I grin at Logan. He leans down and kisses me.

We stop walking and start making out on the bank of the Seine. Our kiss is heady and steamy and makes me feel hot on this cold February evening. When we break apart his eyes are alight with desire, and the way he looks at me sends jolts of exciting electricity straight to my groin. I ignore the feeling, unable to do anything about it here, out in the open.

I kiss him back, and am overcome by the romance of our scene. It’s dark; it’s winter; it’s Paris; and I’m in love! Our kiss deepens. I just can’t get enough of him! One hand is splayed on my lower back, the other is cupped behind my head, holding my mouth against his. My hands move from his face to his hair and back again. When we break apart again, he looks at me differently, like he, too, is in love.