Each push brought us closer; I was on edge, ready, the ache heightened to a place it could go no further. He pressed his hips in an upward motion so he rubbed against my clit, and a jolt went through me, then another and another. The intense building inside was too much.
He pressed harder.
“Oh God. Logan. Logan.” I let go, my eyes squeezing shut. “Logan!” I screamed as everything in my body exploded into tiny bursts.
“Emily.” He pumped harder, the smack of flesh on flesh loud. He thrust deeper. Then he took my mouth with an insane hunger as his body stopped pumping, and his muscles tightened while his body shook.
“Mouse.” He fell to the side and brought me with him so I was snug to his chest, my legs tangled within his. “Emily. You’re a fuckn’ trophy. My trophy.”
I closed my eyes, head resting on his chest next to my hand.
He leaned upward and kissed my head while his hand stroked up and down my arm. His other hand linked with my fingers on his chest.
“Logan?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Um, someone is watching us.”
Logan looked up, and we both started laughing as the appaloosa stared down at us.
Chapter 6
“Oh my God, look at you. You’re lit up like a friggin’ firecracker. What has Sculpt done to you . . . besides break your virginity condom.” I hadn’t given Kat any details, but I’d told her we’d had sex, and that it was amazing. “Matt’s finally resigned to the fact that you and Sculpt are together.”
I was a little giddy. Okay, I was super giddy after two nights ago in the horse field. Yesterday, I’d managed to spill four coffees, and bumped into Georgie three times making her spill hers. To say I was day dreaming was an understatement . . . I became the daydream. Georgie sent me home early, said I was between my legs and to go get fucked before I had an orgasm while serving coffee to some poor sap who wasn’t getting any.
Unfortunately, Logan couldn’t see me last night, because the band was polishing up the new song he wanted me to hear tonight.
Kat was wearing a tight blue dress, dipped low, clinging to every inch of her body, down to her mid-thighs. Her stiletto heels lengthened her already long legs, and she had on a silver anklet made up of loops of interlocking circles.
I wore a new dress I’d purchased yesterday after work, and it had been a long process considering Kat had been with me. I must have tried on at least forty dresses before we settled on one. It was white, not stark white, but more of an eggshell and was just as delicate with how tight it was. A classy, sexy look, Kat called it. Parts of it were lace and others silk with a plunging neckline, embracing my body right to mid-thigh.
“Man, he is going to fuck up his lines when he sees you in that,” Kat said as I slipped on my heels—also new. “I can’t wait to see his face. And make sure he sees your ass.”
I laughed. I felt kind of sexy. Most of the time I was in jeans, and this was the nicest piece of clothing I owned. I saved my money for the horses, not clothes or girly stuff.
“I’m just excited to finally hear the band. He talks about them all the time, and I’ve only met Kite, the drummer.” I had yet to mention that Sculpt wanted me to go with them on tour. I didn’t think there was any point when I’d decided it wasn’t going to happen.
“Matt says they’re going to make it big. And by the looks of your boyfriend alone . . . Yeah, they’re making it.” Kat tugged my hand. “Come on. Let’s cause some hard-ons.”
There was only one man I’d like to cause a hard-on, and there would be no touching him until later tonight.
When we arrived, Torn had yet to take the stage. I was nervous about seeing Sculpt, and my limbs felt like warm pudding. I wasn’t sure if the light-headedness was from the two shots Kat and I did before we left the house or my nerves. I was a little scared . . . okay terrified of seeing him and close to saying screw college, Kat, and Matt.
Kat snagged a couple drinks from Brett the bartender, then we moved through the crowd to a spot near the stage. “It’s packed. Wow, Torn draws a lot of people.” Kat winked. “Sculpt’s one hot piece of ass, and he’s all yours, Eme.”
I chugged back my beer, quenching my dry mouth. I kept looking around, wondering if I’d get the chance to see him before he went on stage. We’d only texted a few times yesterday, because he was busy with the band, but he never forgot to send me a text before bed. I couldn’t sleep anymore without it, Logan’s good night—dream sweet, Emily.
My cell vibrated.
You good, Mouse?
I smiled, and the tension eased from my shoulders. I could picture him with his hand on the back of my neck, fingers wrapped in my hair as he looked down at me.
Yeah. Waiting impatiently to hear you sing like the rest of your fans.
I hesitated for a second, afraid of being vulnerable, but then decided if I couldn’t let him know now, then he would never know before he left. I typed and sent the next message, before I could talk myself out of it.
I think I like you too much. And I missed seeing you yesterday. I think I’m addicted to you.
There was a long pause, and I wanted to kick myself for telling him I missed him and was addicted to him. I mean, what guy wanted to hear that? I was still cautious about keeping my feelings contained, afraid if he knew how hard I’d fallen he’d be bumping up his tour date. I started to get nervous when he didn’t respond, and I kept my eyes glued to my dark screen.