She startles me from my fantasy by speaking. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
My breath hitches in my throat as I’m brought back reluctantly to reality. “No. I mean yes, but it’s okay. Is the bed comfortable?” Please say no. Just give me any reason to get you in my bed.
“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you. I just… I’m sorry I woke you. I just can’t reach the glasses.”
I amble over to where she is standing, and from behind her, I reach around and above her for a glass. Any closer and my cock would be up her damn shirt. It’s on a rather tall shelf in an awkward corner, and I have my poor spatial planning to thank for this little temptation. She uses the glass to get a drink of water while I continue to watch her. She seems uncomfortable with my eyes on her, but I have no intention of looking away. Finally finished unintentionally tormenting me, she excuses herself. And I watch her walk away, catching the fabric of the pants brush against the strong and round cheeks of her firm bottom.
I have got to get a hold of myself. This is going to be a very long year if I’m going to turn into a hormonal teen again every time she’s around. Hormonal teen or not, I have to take care of this raging hard-on. And as I stand in my bathroom alone, I imagine her kneeling in front of me. My hand becomes her mouth, and I want so much to look down and see her eyes looking up at me as she sucks me deep into her mouth. I come quickly but with little sense of relief. I don’t want it this way. I want her to make me come. But that’s impossible.
As I collapse back in bed frustrated, I can’t help but think that this is just a passing whim. It has been a long and strange weekend, and I’m sure when I wake in the morning she’ll just be Sara’s young friend I’ve known since childhood again. I hope.
He looked so gorgeous standing there in the kitchen with nothing except his flannel pants on. His chest and arms were well muscled and tight. I could feel my nipples tightening as he watched me and hoped he wasn’t noticing my shaky hands. I lie here in bed after that encounter and feel more inept than ever before. I have so little experience with men it is a joke. Aside from the two times I kissed a guy at some stupid party that Sara dragged me to, I’m worthless. I just wish I knew what it felt like. I don’t think I even wanted to be with those guys. It just seemed like the thing to do. I wanted some experience to lean back on if and when it should ever become useful. But seeing Logan, I knew my body wanted it. I could feel the wetness between my legs. He made me feel so soft and warm when he looked at me. All I wanted were his hands on me—everywhere. This is ridiculous. He has a beautiful girlfriend and would never want to be with someone like me. He thinks I’m just a kid, and men aren’t interested in kids like me. I fall asleep depressed and loathing myself. This is not a new feeling for me.
When I wake the next morning, I’m more rested than I’ve been in a long time and roll over to see I’ve slept in way too long. It is nearly ten o’clock. I get up, brush my teeth, and shower. As I enter the living room, I see Logan sitting at the kitchen table working on something at his laptop. He looks up and offers me a good morning.
“Hi. I didn’t mean to sleep in so long.” I smile at him.
“It’s okay. I’m sure you were tired. It’s been a long weekend.”
“I better get going. Is there any way I can get my bike from the back of your Jeep?”
“Sure. I’ll get it for you when I drop you off at your house.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can ride from here.”
He looks up from his work, giving me his searing trademark expression of seriousness. “I said I’ll drop you.”
Ten minutes later, as he’s pulling up in front of my home sweet trailer, I thank him again for everything he’s done. And as he is unloading my bike for me, he reminds me, “Don’t forget about our agreement.” I nod. “Rowan, I mean it. I will blow your little story if you don’t play by my rules. Got it?” He is dead serious now.
“I understand.” His face relaxes measurably with my reassurance.
I run inside my house just in time to catch the phone. It’s Sara. She apologizes for not letting me know that she was going to the lake house. Her parents had decided last minute that she should come, too, and she’d tried to call me Friday night, but I’d already left for work and then, as I already know, she forgot her phone. She asks me to come over for Sunday dinner and work on our Composition papers that are due Monday morning. I am nervous about seeing Logan with his family there but don’t have much choice but to go. My report, or at least what I’ve done of it, is saved on their computer. I do all of my papers there because we don’t have a computer. Sara comes to pick me up a half hour later and talks the whole way back to her house. She had a boring weekend and is excited to finally have me to talk to. She asks how my weekend was, and I lie saying I just worked. Normally when something happens that is out of the ordinary, I want to share it with Sara. But even if Logan hadn’t sworn me to secrecy, I’m not sure I’d have told her.
Sara and I help Ronnie in the kitchen with dinner. Logan hasn’t arrived yet, and I find myself nervous as hell waiting for him to get there. When he finally does arrive very shortly before dinner, he seems surprised to see me there. He says hi to his family and me, but when he gets to me, it seems strained and uncomfortable. I wonder if he wants me there at all. I sit across from Logan at dinner and keep catching him looking at me. I can’t tell if he is irritated I'm there or not. He must be sick of me after this weekend and wanting a break, and that admission has me feeling that all too familiar stab of self-loathing guilt.
Sara and I hole up for a few hours in the office, working on our reports, and as I start typing, she starts speed talking. “So whadya do this weekend?” Seriously? She should know me well enough to know I never do anything interesting when she’s gone, but wait, this weekend was interesting.
I lie. “Oh, the usual. Work, TV, work, sleep.”
But the look on my face apparently isn’t convincing. “Huh?” She’s stroking her chin as I try to focus on typing and not on my building anxiety. She gives up her suspicion and finally, at seven o’clock, we both finish and decide to call it a night. As we come back downstairs, I see Logan sitting with his parents around the kitchen island deep in conversation. They look up as we come down the stairs, and I have this awful fear that he’s decided against helping me and has confessed all.
But my fears are calmed when Ronnie speaks. “Are you girls finally finished? These better be good papers as much time as the two of you have been working. I thought we agreed you guys would work on your procrastination issues this year.” She is smiling.
Sara says she is going to run me home when Logan interjects that he’s leaving and can drop me just as easily. Those intense eyes are on me again. Sara agrees, and we say our good-byes for the night.
Logan glances toward me as we head to his car. “You thought we were talking about you in the kitchen just now, didn’t you?”
“I thought it was a possibility. How did you know?”
“The panicked look on your face gave it away. Those big eyes of yours were practically popping out of your head. Well, you can relax. Against my better judgment, I haven’t changed my mind, and I didn’t tell them anything.”
As we drive in silence, I decide to ask the question that has been plaguing me. “Did you not want me to be there tonight? I mean… You’re probably sick of me being around, and I don’t want to be in your way. I just don’t want you to get sick of me.”
“Rowan, I haven’t gotten sick of you in the seven years I’ve known you, and I’m not sick of you now. Where is this coming from?”