She (24 page)

Desire shoots to my groin as Logan presses his hips firmly against mine. I smile.
Fine
.
By
.
Me
! I spread my legs, wanting him; willing him to take me. Anticipation courses through me as his lips find mine and he forces my mouth open, kissing me hard.
This is going to be a good night
, I tell myself. Our tongues brush against each other passionately. And then he enters me, taking me by surprise so that I groan into his mouth. He stops kissing me, the whole point being that I am able to see him in the mirror above.

Instead he supports himself on his elbows and buries his face into my neck, kissing my bare skin, as down below he eases out and buries himself into me again. I watch it all in the mirror. His shoulder blades are popping from the position of his arms; his back muscles are tense; one of his feet pushes against the bed, pushing his sex up to meet mine; and his buttocks clench tightly as he thrusts into me.

I moan, my eyes glued to his backside, unable to look away. Over and over again he thrusts, and I am torn between what I feel and what I see. Down below I feel him deeply with every penetration, provoking me and awakening that beautiful building sensation within. In the mirror I see his physical exerts that cause my internal reaction, and my focus is split between watching the erotic film in front of me and feeling that increasing pleasure build inside. I don’t choose to focus on one more than the other; I multitask, enjoying both visual and physical stimulations.

His backside clenches again and again, the force of his thrusts pushing us both. I run my hands over his taut back, feeling the tension that I see in the mirror. Then I wrap my legs around his waist, and the climbing feeling within me suddenly increases.
Oh
! Logan feels it too, groaning loudly in my ear. His voice pushes me even further. Holy
shit
! Abruptly, I’m close.
So
close!

I call out in pleasure, and the movement of my own mouth distracts me in the mirror. I turn my eyes on myself, and gaze at my open-mouthed, pleasure-strewn face for a few brief moments. So, this is what Logan sees…

Ah
! He buries himself into me faster and harder, and I cry out again, louder than before. I arch my back against him and it’s then that I notice that Logan is watching me, watching him. I turn my head, my eyes leaving the mirror and focussing instead on Logan’s face right next to mine.

He looks at me with his adoring eyes. “I
love
watching you,” he whispers.

My god, he’s beautiful! Without thinking, I grab his head and hold it against mine while I kiss him. It’s deep and rich and interrupted constantly by the sounds of our groaning. He slides his arms up the bed, taking his weight off of them, and wrapping them around the top of my head. His full weight rests on me; he consumes me fully.

The exquisite pressure builds and right before we’re about to come, Logan slows his pace in that enigmatic way he does.
Fuck
! My legs stiffen, my mind desserts me.

“
Yes
!” I whimper. It feels divine!

Logan and I look at one another as he continues his torturously slow finish, our mouths open against each other, but neither one of us is able to concentrate on kissing. The intensity as he pushes us over the threshold is almost unbearable, but it feels
incredible
! The last few thrusts before I fall apart, I look back up at the mirror, my eyes on Logan’s backside once more.

Ah
!
Oh
! I cry out, louder still. Knowing that I’m watching him again, Logan enacts his last thrust with extra force, his cheeks clenching tightly, and…I’m all gone! I orgasm with a scream, my body releasing the built-up pressure slowly. Too slowly! It’s overwhelming; it’s all too much!
Shit
! How does he do this to me?

“
Gemima
!” Logan calls as he orgasms too.

My body trembles as satisfaction courses through my very veins. Logan stops moving, and for a few moments, while we both catch our breath, his weight crushes me. But all too aware of himself, he takes his weight back onto his hands, rising up by arching his back, and he stares down at me.

I grin at him, and keep my legs wrapped around him. He’s still hard, and still inside of me.

“I think I’ve figured it out,” he tells me.

“Figured what out?”

“Why you’re so sexy.”

Oh
? I smile at him. “And?” I ask.

“This is in reference to when we’re having sex,” he stipulates.

“OK.”

“It’s because you just
let go
,” he does the equivalent of a push up, bending his elbows, bring his lips to meet mine. “You’ve got no pretence. You fully let go, and let me—”

“Enrapture me?” I finish his sentence.

“If that’s the outcome,” he grins, slyly. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he laughs happily: he
knows
that’s the outcome!

“Every time, Logan,” I say honestly.

“You
let
me make love to you, is what I was
going
to say,” he smiles.

“How could I not when you love me like that?” I arch my back against him and brush my lips on his. “That was amazing,” I tell him.

“Yes,” he breathes. He lowers himself to his elbows once more and his hands cup the sides of my face as he kisses me. It’s slow, building into something forceful and passionate.

I unwrap my legs from around his waist and run them smoothly down the backs of his legs, keeping us locked together. He shivers under my caress. Spontaneously, I roll us over so that now he’s underneath me. I sit up, still perched on his hard member, and move up and down a few times, igniting round two. Both of us have our mouths slightly open, reveling in the astounding feeling that we provoke in one another.

Looking down at him, I say, “It’s your turn.”

I lean forward so that my chest is flush against his and I kiss his jaw and throat. I set a fast pace, taking him into me with relish. It’s not fair really; Logan’s turn lasts less than mine, both of us coming quicker than last time, unable to stop the powerful, building sensation. Logan watches me bounce on him. My whole body is draped over his, my lips over his Adam’s apple. I sneak-a-peek at his expression as he watches me, and it nearly makes me convulse. His eyes are in a trance as he gazes up at my reflection in the mirror. Then I feel his hands slide over my backside, and it’s all too much for me. Under his touch my backside begins to tremble.
AH
! I pulse up and down on him a few more times.
Fuck
…I’m coming! The sight of me trembling against him is too much for Logan, too, and we come together, both groaning loudly.

I still, panting hard, then I ease off of him but remain lying on his stomach, momentarily resting. His hands move north from my backside and wrap tightly around the middle of my back.
I smile against the bed sheet; I even laugh a little. Oh,
yes
! This is going to be a fun night!
*
It is! I’ve never gone
all
night before, but tonight we do. We take it in turns watching the other in the mirror.
Several
turns. The sex is incredible, which ever way we have it. I lose track of how many orgasms I’ve had. My mind has deserted me completely, unable to comprehend the desire and passion that flows between Logan and I; but my body feels enlivened, erotic adrenaline coursing through me, giving me energy and stamina the likes of which I’ve never experienced before.

We’re both helped along by intermittent breaks in the kitchen, replenishing on food and wine. It’s seven AM when we, finally, concede to sleep, only to be woken up two hours later by Logan’s ringing mobile.

He groans, a very different sounding groan than the one I heard two hours ago, as he reaches over me to pick up his phone. “Hullo,” he mumbles, lying back on his side of the bed and sounding as tired as I feel.

Adrenaline may have given me life overnight, but now I feel like the living dead. I drift in and out of sleep as Logan talks to whoever called him. When the call is over, he groans again, drops his phone on the floor, and then moves across the bed to snuggle in behind me.

“I have to leave soon,” he murmurs.

“Why?” I ask.

“I’m having brunch with Buddy at my place. I’d totally forgotten. He called to check what he could bring,” he tells me.

“What time?”

“Eleven.”

I glance quickly at my own phone; I’ve a message from Amber, I’ll read it later, I tell myself. It’s nine o’clock now; we can sleep for another hour, at least. I set my alarm for one hour’s time and it feels like I’ve just put it on the nightstand when, suddenly, it’s ringing loudly, too loudly, waking us both up with a start. It’s my turn to groan. But there’s nothing to be done about it. Stoically, I sit bolt upright, forcing my eyes open. My head aches from too little sleep. Coffee, I think. Lots of coffee!

I look down at Logan. His eyes are still closed, but I can tell that he’s awake, bracing himself to get up. Abruptly it occurs to me that this brunch is not mine to attend, but that I just assumed I was invited. Presumptuous, Gem!

“Do you, uh, want me to come?” I ask.

His eyes shoot open. “Of course I want you to come,” he says earnestly.

“Oh, OK. ‘Cause that’s what I assumed, but then I thought:
slow down, girl, you may not be invited
,” I say in my best southern accent.

Against his own will, Logan sits up, too. “Please assume that you are invited wherever I go, Gemima,” he says to me.

I grin at him. “And vice versa,” I say.

He kisses my lips quickly, before throwing his head back with a large yawn. “I need coffee,” he announces.

“You read my mind!” He did that a lot last night. Anytime I thought
move that way
, or
put your hands here
, he’d do it, as if my thoughts had been spoken out loud. He reads me so well!

“Are you as tired as I am?” he asks.

“You probably exerted more energy than I did,” I smile.

“I don’t know about that, baby…you showcased some incredibly athletic moves…”

Did I? Oh, yes, I remember.
Yes
,
I did
, I smile to myself. “I am tired, too,” I admit. I look up at my reflection in the mirror. “This is all your fault.”

Logan looks up as well, smiling at me. “This morning might be a struggle…but it won’t deter from how sensational last night was!” he says. “Best night of my life,” he adds.

“Mine too.” I can’t decide if it was curiosity or vanity playing out, but either way I don’t care. It
was
the best night of my life…so far.

I whip the covers off of me and stand and stretch my body. It’s a lot more limber than I expected it to be. Logan watches me, appreciating my naked physique. Unconsciously he shakes his head.

My eyes narrow. “What are you thinking?” I want to know.

“You’re surreal,” he says immediately. “Your body feels so good, Gemima,” he says reminiscently. “You feel
so
good inside. And the way you
look
…”

“Mr. Leary,” I say sternly and abruptly. He looks at me with wide eyes. “You will have to stop such confessions, otherwise, I’m afraid to say, you’re going to be late for brunch.”

He smiles at me. “I don’t like to be late,” he says.

9. Mirrors

After a brief shower, void of any funny business, and several rushed cups of coffee, Logan and I take the metro back to his apartment in the centre of the business district. We manage to find two empty seats, and I sit gratefully, although I feel old and wholly uncool for relishing it so much.

Remembering my text from Amber, I pull out my phone, rest my head on Logan’s shoulder, and read:

*First of all, I would like it noted that I received this message less than five minutes after leaving your house, which means you migrated to the bedroom VERY quickly!

What can I say? This is what best friends do for each other, babe ;) I second Seamus’ notion: you are welcome! I expect a
thank you
text (flowers and chocolates sent to my work will suffice as well). Though, I do not expect to hear from you tonight…you’re probably flat on your back right now, staring up at his gorgeous ass…you lucky so-and-so!

Lastly, please be warned that neither I nor Seamus are liable should you be unable to walk tomorrow! Sleep well, Gem (if at all!)*

I giggle at her words. It’s nice to have someone know me so well!

“She thinks I have a nice ass?” Logan asks, reading the message as well.

“Somethings are too obvious to deny, mon cheri,” I tell him.

He chuckles and kisses the top of my head, pulling out his own phone, as I reply to Amber.

*THANK YOU, AMBER :) Mirrors = a genius move! An exceptional night was had, thank you for coming over for dinner! All is forgiven for the embarrassment you issued. Though, I’ve never been so tired; are you liable for that? Xx*

Quickly, I remember something else I want to tell her.

*P.S. I can walk just fine!*

“Where does she work?” Logan asks me, looking down at his phone.

“Why?” I grin. “Are you sending flowers?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. He reads out the card he’s ordered to go with them: “Dear Amber, upon
reflection
you have our heartfelt appreciation. Gemima and Logan.”

I smile at him.
Gemima and Logan
…I like the sound of that sign-off. I tell him the address of Amber’s work, and as soon as we’re out of the underground, Logan hits
order
and Amber gets her wish.

We arrive at his apartment at two minutes to eleven. I rush through to his bathroom, checking the mirror to make sure I look presentable before Buddy arrives. I’m overcome by a sudden bout of nerves. Nerves are not my friends. I don’t like them, and I’m not usually prone to them, but it seems upon being faced with meeting arguably the most important person in Logan’s life, my nerves want to take me down.
Those fuckers
! I shake my head, ridding it of my ill thoughts.
There’s nothing to be nervous about
, I tell myself in a pep talk. Everything’s going to go as well as it did last night when Logan met
my
best friend. He was nervous too until he snapped out of it.
Snap out of it
,
Gem
!

I do. I rejoin Logan in the kitchen where he’s brewing a fresh pot of coffee. I breathe the aroma in deeply.

“Mmm, that smells amazing!”

“This pot is all for me,” he jokes, and I grin at him.

Logan’s tablet computer that hangs on the wall starts ringing.

“He’s here!” Logan smiles. “Are
you
ready to meet
my
best friend?”

“I am,” I say confidently, my nerves all but eradicated.

He taps the tablet and suddenly Buddy’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey, Bud, come on up,” Logan says, tapping another button, which admits his guests into the building and allows them to travel up to the penthouse. Logan then takes my hand and leads me to the elevator doors. “It’s stupid, but I’m really excited for you to meet him,” he grins at me.

I give him a quick kiss while we wait for Buddy. “But you’ll love me no matter what he thinks, right?” I check.

He stands before me, tall and beautiful. “I’d love you even if my own mother thinks you’re a bitch,” he says.

I laugh. “Good to know, baby,” I tell him. That
does
take the pressure off, I smile to myself.

Logan wraps his arms around my waist, and rests his forehead against mine. He looks at me sincerely, his eyes pouring into mine. “I’ll love you no matter what. Full stop. After last night I’d be a fucking idiot not to!” Logan laughs, and I join in.

The elevator pings and then the doors open. Buddy strides into the room, looking bright-eyed and wide awake; the exact opposite of how I feel. It’s my first proper look at him: he’s tall, an inch or two taller than Logan; he’s slimmer too, not as muscular, but willowy. His round face sits a little oddly on his thin neck, a bit like a bobble-head doll. But he’s got a cute face; nice brown eyes that match his buzz cut, and a wide smile, which is on display as he takes Logan and I in.

Ignoring his best friend, Buddy makes straight for me. I smile back at him, thinking he’s going to stop at a usual distance to say hello and maybe shake my hand…but he doesn’t. Uh, Buddy?

“Oh…” I mutter, my voice stifled, as he pulls me into an unexpected bear hug. He smells of freshly baked pastry. Hmm, I wonder, is this part of his ‘ladies man’ tactic?

“Hello, Gemima,” he says, after we break apart.

“Hi,” I giggle. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too. What happened last night?” Buddy asks abruptly. “I heard you say something about last night when I was in the elevator,” he says to Logan, shaking his hand.

“We were just very busy,” Logan says, giving nothing away.

“Yes,” I agree. “We were tied up,” I say, before immediately regretting my choice of words!
Dammit
!

Buddy looks from Logan to me, and back again, his expression highly amused. “Literally?” he asks.

I shake my head, grinning, and Logan tells him, “No, Bud, not literally.”

“Well, regardless,” he gives me a quick and brazen look up and down and turns to Logan to announce, “you have my approval.”

I smile. Just like that? “That was easy,” I laugh.

Buddy shrugs. “I’m an easy kind of guy.”

I nod, thinking, I know; I’ve heard! “I’ve heard many wonderful things about you,” I tell him. “
And
some not so wonderful things, too…”

He grins. “Such as?”

“Let’s just say: I know your secret,” I say playfully.

“Uh…about Amelie?”

“
No
,” I mumble, hurriedly, “about ‘N Sync.”

Buddy bursts into laughter. “That was
all
Logan’s doing! He dragged me to that concert, I swear it!”

Logan shakes his head, unwilling to admit to anything.

“I got so many numbers that night,” Buddy sighs reminiscently.

“And it took you, what, a week to get through them all?” Logan asks.

“It’s inspiring, I know,” Buddy jokes, then he holds up his hand, in which he’s holding a white paper bag. “I brought croissants.”

Mmm
! “Very French.”

“I made coffee,” Logan says.

“Coffee? Wow!” Buddy teases. “I’m impressed, given your clear lack of energy and sustenance. I’m gonna go ahead and assume you didn’t get your eight hours last night,” he says to Logan, before rounding on me, “You do realise that if you break him, the entire construction industry of Paris will falter?”

“She’s not going to break me, Bud.”

“I’ll try not to,” I smile. It’d be a hard feat to break Logan! “He’s very sturdy,” I add, patting Logan’s backside out of Buddy’s line of sight.

Buddy laughs, and then says, “I’m actually
very
glad y’all got together! Now, Gemima, I can finally stop hearing him pine for you—”

“I
didn’t
pine!” Logan interjects quickly.

“He was drawing these little love hearts everywhere—”

“No, I wasn’t,” Logan assures me with a smile.

“
Everywhere
!” Buddy whispers to me. “It was very distracting.”

“I can imagine,” I laugh. “Love hearts, Logan?”

“Not true,” he chuckles, taking the bag of croissants from his friend and walking into the kitchen.

Buddy and I follow.

“Speaking of our industry and you two getting together, I met your ex-boyfriend many times, and I have to ask: what the hell were you thinking?” Buddy enquires blatantly.

“Bud, stop,” Logan reprimands.

“It’s OK,” I insist. “I ask myself the same question, and the truth is, I’ve no idea,” I tell Buddy honestly. I look at Logan, smile, and then add, “I can see clearly now.”

“I went out with an interior designer once…”

Yes…my
boss
! I take an infinitesimal moment to imagine what he and Amelie would look like as a couple, standing side by side, being lovey-dovey with one another. I can’t see it! Not at all! How on earth did they fall into bed together? I want to know, I want to ask!
Don’t say it
,
Gem
! Be discreet! Acting ignorant, I say, “Oh, really?”

“Yes. She was very full of herself,” he tells me.

I laugh at his openness. Few people have the gall to speak so blatantly about Amelie Clemence. I like that Buddy does, though of course he doesn’t know that
I
know who he’s talking about.

“I probably shouldn’t have gone out with her. But, hey, it was fun while it lasted,” he smiles. Then he laughs, remembering, “Logan actually walked in on us once.”

Logan pulls a face and I know Buddy’s reminder has triggered that visual of them on the sofa that Logan wants to forget.

“Oh, really?” I say, before blanching.
Shit
, I’ve said that twice in a row.
Don’t be a parrot
, or he’ll know something’s up. “That must’ve tested the friendship,” I say quickly.

“I wouldn’t have objected as much if she hadn’t have been married,” Logan says pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah…I learnt my lesson,” Buddy assures him.

Logan chuckles. “It only took four years!” he teases. “Slow learner.”

“I’m revoking croissant privileges for you,” Buddy tells him dramatically, taking the plate that Logan put the croissants on and leading the way into the man’s den, where, apparently, they like to sit.

Buddy sits in an armchair while Logan and I fall onto the couch. I am tempted to rest my head on his shoulder, to get really comfortable, but I purposefully don’t, knowing that I’ll be asleep in an instant if I do. Rather than slumber, I focus on eating and drinking. The croissants are delicious and the coffee provides me immediate and much needed energy, but it’s not quite enough to bring me fully to life. Fortunately, though, Buddy is a chatterbox; he keeps the conversation flowing with little effort.

“I met your boss once, Gemima,” he says to me.

“Once?” The word is out of my mouth before I can keep it in.

“A couple of times,” he amends naturally.

“And? What do you make of the great Amelie Clemence?” I ask.

He snorts. “She is also very full of herself.”

I grin and shrug. “She has a right to be, I suppose. She’s very good at what she does.”

“Case in point,” Logan says, indicating the room.

“Yeah, maybe,” Buddy says, unconvinced. “But her job’s not exactly important, is it?” he asks me, obviously forgetting that I do the exact same thing.

“Buddy…” Logan warns.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he says hurriedly. “It’s just, well, you know, what we do,” he points to himself and Logan, “is necessary in the world. What you do is a luxury.”

“And luxuries are not important?”

“Not as important, no. We makes buildings,” Buddy proclaims, as if I’m supposed to be impressed. I’m not, though neither am I offended.

“Buildings can be cold and inhospitable,” I point out.

“Not one of mine,” he says confidently with a cheeky wink.

Logan rolls his eyes at his friend again, evidently used to his playful banter.

“Put it this way: you make a house;
I
make it a home,” I say clearly.

He considers my words. “Fair enough,” he smiles.

“Good,” I say, glad to find some middle-ground. The copious amounts of coffee I’ve been drinking are starting to run through me. Needing to pee, I excuse myself, leaving Logan and Buddy alone for a few minutes.

On my way back to the man’s den, I hear Buddy ask, “Are you in love with her?”

I stop in my tracks, eavesdropping.

“Big time,” Logan says quickly and with his signature sincerity.

I smile to myself.

There’s a slight pause before Buddy laughs, saying, “You’ve got it bad, brother!”

Logan laughs too, no doubt nodding. Feeling it’s safe to rejoin, I start walking again.

“Speaking of brothers…” Logan says cautiously, “Taylor is going to be at the party in two weeks time. Do you think you can behave yourself?”

Buddy groans and rolls his eyes, as I sit back down next to Logan. His arm wraps naturally around me, and again I am tempted to curl up next to him and sleep, but I refrain from the temptation.

“Bud, it doesn’t help things with you two constantly at each other’s throats,” Logan adds.

“But…he’s an
asshole
!” Buddy blurts out.

Oh! That’s a revelation.

“Even so,” Logan allows. “Please, try to be civil, or if not that, then just stay clear of him.”

“I like option two better,” Buddy says.

“I’m sensing tension,” I say quietly.

“Bud and Taylor don’t get along because of the way Taylor talks to me,” Logan explains.

“He’s your brother and he treats you like dirt. I’m your best friend, I basically know you better than anyone, and I don’t think you should be spoken to like that; and you do
nothing
about it! So, I get defensive and I fight back.” He looks at me and something occurs to him. “You’ll be my ally,” he says confidently. “Just you wait.”