Her scent belongs to me, and I lick greedily at her wetness, wanting every last bit of it. Her moans have increased, and she is fully awake and fully aroused. I spread her folds and suck and nibble away at her clit while my fingers invade her tight sheath. When she comes, it is with my name uttered helplessly on her lips. And soon she is taking her own sweet time with my body, first with her hand and then her mouth. She sucks deeply and circles the head of my cock with her tongue. She moves down to my balls, licking gently and sweetly. She cradles them in her hands as she starts nibbling and licking at the base of my cock. Within moments, her lips are parting over the head of my swollen dick again, pressing down over me, and taking all of me deep into her throat. As I come, she drinks me completely, relishing my flavor. And then we steal away to sleep again.
The next morning, we get ready for the day together. I watch her as she stands naked in my bathroom blow drying her hair. She’s never worn much makeup, and I study her as she brushes a small amount of mascara over her long lashes and then glides her lip gloss over her pink lips. We’re having coffee in the kitchen before long, watching one another over the rim of our cups. This feels so right, and I wish I could box her up with the rest of my belongings and take her to Colorado with me.
I have a full day in Grand Rapids as I prepare to hand off my projects to the new summer intern that has been brought on board to replace me. And it is long after Rowan has left for Sara’s that I finally get home. I’m relieved to have stayed so busy and am more than happy to couch potato it up when I finally get home. Dinner delivery ordered, I open a bottle of wine and settle in front of the TV. I should be working on my thesis, since I’ll be busy the next couple of nights, but it’s the last thing I want to do. I finally get bored enough to move and soon have the guys rounded up for a couple of games of pool at The Inn. Very irresponsibly, we close down the bar at two in the morning, and I know I’m going to regret it tomorrow morning. As I enter my apartment, I grab my cell phone and start typing. I really need to stop drunk text messaging Rowan in the middle of the night. “I miss you. Sleep tight.”
Composition portfolios done early, apparently some of Ronnie’s procrastination rules were heeded, we decide to go catch a movie. Since it is Monday night, the lines are short, and we load up on popcorn with double butter and enough candy to keep a preschool in business for a month. We find our seats and laugh for an hour and a half straight. Sara is animated all the way home about next year and how much fun we are going to have. It’s hard not to get caught up in her energy, and I actually start to believe her until Logan pops into my mind. I really do want to believe everything Sara says about our future, but the pain of knowing Logan won’t be a part of this future is numbing. She can’t possibly understand how hard it is for me to think about next year without him. Hell, I can’t stand thinking about this summer without him, let alone the rest of my life. I can’t help but thank God that Sara will be with me next year. Part of me is worried Sara will just remind me of Logan, and I’m sure that is true to a point, but Sara is my oldest friend, and I wouldn’t know how to face next year alone. I’m not sure I could stomach the idea of going off to Ann Arbor without her; the loneliness of being away from Logan would kill me.
Our night ends late, and when we get home it is straight to bed.
Chapter 16
When I wake, I see I have a text from Logan. I wait for Sara to leave for the shower before reading it. And I instantly smile with gratification when I do. He was thinking of me … apparently at two-thirty in the morning … but nevertheless, thinking about me—just me. We set off for school a half hour later, and I’m anxious to get through the day so I can see Logan. He texts me while I’m in class, letting me know we’re going out that evening. Going out! Like a date going out? And I spend the rest of the day in a daydream of him. I can’t wait to see him, and I practically speed all the way to his apartment when I’m finally finished with my last class of the day. Stupid really, when you consider he’s not even home when I get there. But I set out getting ready for the night.
I try to curl my hair, but only half will hold, and I end up looking lopsided—fail. I try to put makeup on, but end up looking like Elvira—fail again. After washing my face, reapplying my normal dose of cosmetics, which is very little, and finally pulling my hair up in a bun in an attempt to hide my experiment with the curling iron, I start going through my closet for something to wear. It is warm out for Michigan in early April, so I settle on a white cotton sundress with navy stripes which hits right above my knee, a coral colored cardigan and white deck shoes. I appraise myself and decide I look far too nautical for the middle of Michigan, but I like the beachcomber look. As I start to pin back a few stray hairs from my bun, I hear Logan come in, and moments later, he enters the bathroom. He looks at me, taking in my clothes and bun. It is a quizzical look, and he tilts his head to the side as he’s studying me. Perhaps the nautical look is out this year, and I just didn’t get the memo—wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
“You don’t like it?” I nibble on my bottom lip, suddenly self-conscious. He sees the uncomfortable look in my eyes and approaches me, instantly pulling me into his arms and leaning down, pulling my lip from between my teeth into his mouth.
“I like it very much. You look beautiful. It just makes me question our plans for the evening.”
At that, he turns and starts stripping while he reaches into the shower and turns on the jets. I stare after him, wondering if he’s going to explain further or if I should change. It’s clear he has no intention of elaborating. “So … should I change?”
From the shower, he leans out and with a smirk says, “Oh no. Please don’t do that. I’m changing my plans to suit your outfit.”
Hmmm. What, I wonder, does that mean? I leave for the kitchen, pouring a small glass of wine to calm my nerves. When he emerges ten minutes later, it is my turn to appraise. He’s wearing absolutely, fabulously, worn jeans with a pair of flip flops, a faded-out mustard colored T-shirt with his college emblem on the front, and a cream colored, zip-up, cable knit sweater. He looks like a bloody Ralph Lauren model! He does beachcomber far better than me, and in a third of the time it took me. I’m muttering inwardly. Damn naturally beautiful people.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I pry some more. “So, will you tell me where we’re going?”
“Well, I had thought we’d go to Grand Rapids to the new dinner theater and then dessert down in the village afterward, but as I said, your outfit made me rethink that idea.” At that, he grabs his keys, a couple of blankets from the foyer closet—interesting—my hand, and we are out the door.
When we reach his Jeep, I try again. “So, you still haven’t answered my question.”
He looks at me as we both climb in. He then takes my hand, looks at me a moment longer, and then replies, “No, I haven’t.”
We set off, leaving Allendale minutes later. However, we are not leaving in the direction of Grand Rapids. We head west instead. There is little out this way for nearly forty minutes, and then it occurs to me: he’s taking me to Grand Haven. I smile inwardly. It is one of my favorite places to visit. It is near where the Harringtons' lake house is on Spring Lake, but it isn’t the lake that is so impressive about Grand Haven. On the other side of town from that lake is Lake Michigan, and the seaside harbor. It is a beautiful, eclectic area, and I love it.
Ronnie takes Sara and me to the boutiques down by the harbor on occasion during the summer, and we shop and feast the afternoon away in the quaint village. I always love visiting Grand Haven when I can. And in growing anticipation, we get closer and closer until I can see Lake Michigan coming up before us. We park along one of the side streets of the harbor area, and as Logan helps me from the Jeep he pulls me up in his arms and whispers in my ear, “I thought you’d look far more appropriate here. I hope you won’t miss the dinner theater too much.”