“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, lifting his head to look into my face.

I shake my head. “Don’t stop,” I say. I thread my fingers into his hair, and hold him tight to me, tugging his hair gently, and he moans around my nipple. My head falls back, and I lean against the mirror, watching his face as he sucks on the turgid flesh. His other hand slides down my belly, toward my curls, where it slips between my legs. I open my legs wider for him. Logan raises his head, and buries his face in the curve of my neck as he dips a finger inside me and brings it forward, using my own wetness to slicken his way. His finger strums across my clit, and I nearly leap off the counter. He presses his body closer to mine, his free hand plucking at my nipple, elongating it with his urgent tugs, as his middle finger strokes me.

If he doesn’t stop, I’m going to come. “Logan,” I say. He can’t see my lips, so I tug his head up until he looks at me. I can barely get the words to form on my lips. “I’m going to come before you do, if you don’t stop.” I start to work at the button on his jeans and he brushes my hands away.

He looks deep into my eyes and asks, “What’s your name?”

I can’t answer. I don’t answer. I close my eyes tightly and arch against his fingertips, which are still taking me higher. When I don’t respond, Logan growls, drops onto his knees in front of me, and shoves my legs apart. Then he licks me from bottom to top.

I sink my hands into his hair, tugging him up when he goes down, and he takes the hint. He latches onto my clit with his lips and tongue, suckling softly as he stares up at me, his eyes as blue as the sea. I look into his face as he pushes me, and pushes me, and pushes me and then finally I’m crying out. He doesn’t stop when I start to come. Instead, he slides a finger inside me and strokes me from the inside, while his mouth feasts on me. “Oh, God!” I cry.

My body quakes and I shake uncontrollably, pressing his face closer to me as I come. He slows his licks and nudges as my body stills. Now when he licks me from bottom to top, I like it, and I tremor as he passes my clit. He does it over and over until my body stills. I lie back limply against the mirror, and pull him up to face me. “Your turn,” I say, and I reach for the button of his jeans.

He shakes his head. “No.”

“What?” I don’t understand.

He lifts me to stand in front of him.

“You don’t want me?” I ask.

“Fuck, girl, I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone or anything.” He presses his forehead against mine and he’s breathing hard. His lips touch mine softly, but there’s an urgency there, too. He bends over and picks up the towel, wrapping it around me, tucking it tightly between my br**sts. Then he opens the door, shoves me out into the hallway, and locks the bathroom door behind me.

Logan

Fuck!

I scrub my hand down my face, and then run my fingers through my hair, squeezing my head in my hands like a big pimple that’s ready to burst. That’s not the only thing that’s ready to burst.

I’ve never been as f**king turned on as I am right now. Kit was wet, and warm, and she was willing. She would have let me f**k her right here on the countertop if I’d said yes. I know she would have. And she wouldn’t have had any regrets. But I would. Although right now, I’m rethinking my decision to put her outside the door. I reach for the handle and get ready to turn it so I can beckon her back into the room, but I jerk my hand back.

I desperately needed to take that look off her face, and the only thing I could think of was to put her mind on something else. But now I can’t get my mind off the look on her face when she came. Or how tightly she gripped my finger when she trembled. Good God, that girl can undo me.

My junk is so hard I could pound nails with it.

The door vibrates as someone pounds on it. Probably Paul telling me to hurry up so I won’t be late for work. But my dick’s so hard that I can barely stand up straight, much less walk.

I run my hands through my hair again. Deep breaths.

Shit. I’ll never get out of here this way.

I take a towel from under the sink and lay it in front of me, and unzip my jeans. This won’t take but a second. Because I know I’ll think about her while I do it. I spit into my palm and take the head of my dick in my hand, pulling away from me with a tight grip.

God, I’ll never get the sight of her coming out of my mind. She’d cried out once. I’m sure of it. I could feel her throat move through the side of my cheek. It was a soft vibration, and it happened when she started to squeeze around my finger.

It only takes a few pulls, and I rise up on my tiptoes, spilling onto the towel on the sink. I think about how it would feel to be inside her right now, and my balls lift up tight against my body as I come. Oh, God. God, I want to be inside her so bad.

I sink back down onto my heels, spent. I lean heavily against the door, trying to catch my breath. The door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist. I wash my hands, and throw the towel in the hamper. Shit. I’m glad I did that. But I wish it had happened differently.

I tuck myself back into my jeans, and I’m still semi-hard, but not so hard that I can’t walk. I open the door, and Paul greets me with an arched brow. “Better?” he asks, grinning.

Fuck you, dumbass, I sign.

“Fuck you,” he repeats, laughing. “Oh, wait. You already got f**ked.” He tilts his head at me. “How was it?”

I jerk him into the bathroom with me. I didn’t f**k her.