His Favorite, page 3
“You’d rather be on the boat with Chris?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.
Logan chews on her bottom lip. “No.”
“That’s what I thought. Show my place a little respect.”
“You first.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s got me there. While she gets comfortable, I head into the kitchen and grab a couple bottles of water from the fridge. I also stop to pick up a bag of chips. I don’t know if she’s hungry, but all this driving around has my stomach growling just a little.
When I return, she still looks a little uneasy. “Logan, talk to me.”
She lets out a long sigh. “It’s just…. Okay, so here’s the situation. Everything is going good on the boat. We’re all having fun, having the time of our lives, yadda yadda. I’m starting to think that I actually really like Chris. And then he puts his hand in my lap and starts trying to… you know.”
I make a face. “What the fuck?”
“That’s what I’m saying! It was super weird, and I wasn’t into it. I told him that I didn’t like it, and he said that he thought I might. I don’t know where he got that idea from, but it turned me off completely. I’ve never even really made out with a guy, so why the hell would I want to do that with some guy I’m not even dating?”
It takes everything I have not to storm towards my car and head over to wherever it is that Chris is staying. Nobody puts their hands on her like that, especially around so many people. Logan was clearly uncomfortable enough to call me to come and pick her up.
“Why’d you call me and not Julie or something?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought you’d be better. Is that okay?”
“I mean, it’s fine, I just thought that after the Omega Nu party, you wanted nothing to do with me.” I try to keep my voice from sounding too weak. I’m not a pussy, it just sucked to have her snap at me like that. “You made it seem like you weren’t planning on talking to me while you were here.”
She picks at her nails, quiet for a moment. To keep from saying anything stupid, I take a long drink of water.
“I was just worried that you were going to be like Dad, I guess,” she finally admits. “You know how he’d get. Super misogynistic, always trying to ‘protect my innocence.’ And we’d always have those big huge fights about sex and boys.”
I remember those as clear as day. George was a decent guy, but he had a lot of outdated beliefs. Guys that wanted to date Logan had to go through him. He had to make sure they were decent. And normally that wouldn’t have been too bad, but it was never for her sake. He didn’t want to protect Logan from guys that would hurt her. He wanted to make sure he liked the guy he was “giving his daughter to.”
Whenever she and her dad would fight, I got to break up their arguments and calm Logan down, telling her that yes, he was being an asshole, but no, she didn’t hate his guts. They didn’t see eye to eye on everything, but I know now that he’s gone, she probably really does miss him.
“I’m not like George,” I say. “I’m not going to wander around campus with a shotgun, making sure no other guys look at you or anything.”
“No, you’re probably too busy fooling around with girls,” she says. There’s an edge of bitterness to her voice that I think about asking about, but I decide against it.
“Maybe,” I shrug. “It’s hard not to want to hop on all of this.” I don’t consider myself the most attractive guy out there, but I work hard for this body, and all the time I spend working in the warehouse certainly helps my physique.
“And you bring the girls back to this pig pen?” she asks critically.
“It’s not that bad, shut up,” I groan. “You’re just used to everything being all perfect and pretty and Pinterest-y. You got spoiled too much, Princess. You don’t know how real men live.”
She rolls her eyes and steals a chip from my bag. “Show me a real man and I’ll ask him what it’s like.”
There it is. The sadness is gone and she’s back to her old sarcastic self. “You’re the worst,” I mutter.
After a few minutes of playing on her phone, she puts it down, and in an exasperated voice, says, “I can’t take this anymore.” She hops up from the couch and starts looking around for something.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to clean this mess up! That’s what I’m doing.” She heads towards my bedroom, and when she returns, she has a large laundry basket. Working quickly, she begins stuffing all of my laundry from all over the house into the basket. I watch in amusement before eventually standing.
“Logan, c’mon, stop,” I say, reaching for the basket.
“No!” She turns away and hurries to another corner of the room to clean. “I can’t let rumor get out that my brother is a dirty pig. Girls talk, you know that, right?”
“Stoooop,” I groan. I make another lunge for the basket, but she’s faster still. She’s practically cleaned up the entire living room by the time I manage to get a hold on the laundry. She tries to tug away but I’m stronger, pulling it from her grip.
“You should be thanking me for making this place less filthy!”
“I like filthy,” I reply. To prove my point, I lift the basket into the air and flip it upside down on top of her head.
Logan lets out a small yelp as my clothes land on her head and tumble off. A pair of my boxers sits on top while the rest have fallen to a pile at her feet. She glares at me, her fists clenched. “You asshole!” she cries.
Logan tears my boxers off of her head and shoves them in my face, attacking me with a flurry of weak slaps and pushes. I can’t stop laughing, mostly because of how little damage her hits do. I grab both of her wrists and tug her forward, against my body.
Her chest heaves up and down, and her eyes are ablaze with anger. Suddenly, I’m all too aware of how close we are, how warm she feels against me, and I move without thinking it all the way through.
I press my lips to hers, and to my surprise, she doesn’t immediately recoil. Her body is rigid until she finally seems to drop her guard. Logan kisses me back hard, her hands in my hair. Mine fall to her hips, preventing her from getting too far from me. It isn’t until we’re both breathless and gasping for air that we part.
I look into her eyes, searching for some kind of sign that she feels bad about this. That what we just did was wrong. But there isn’t one. Instead, she stares up at me with a different glimmer in her eye. Something mischievous.
“Do you make it a habit to kiss all your sisters?” she asks me. Her lips are still plump and red from mine, and I feel something deep in my stomach stir. Something I shouldn’t be entertaining, but so desperately want to.
I shake my head. “Not all of them,” I say. “Just my favorites.”
5
Logan
I can’t stop thinking about last night. The moment we kissed replays over and over in my mind, even in my dreams, and when I wake up the next morning to an empty bed, I relive it once again.
I’ve kissed a few guys before. Not as many as my friends, but I’m no prude either. But something about Zack felt different. I know it should’ve felt wrong. I should’ve been disgusted. I should’ve shoved him off, told him off, and stormed out of his apartment, curfew be damned. One citation wouldn’t have killed me.
I just couldn’t find the strength to do any of that. I wanted so badly to be horrified, but the only thing I could feel was a sense of calm, like the world suddenly clicked for me. Like all the pieces fit together and I didn’t have to wonder about why I’d been jealous listening to Zack brag about all the girls he slept with.
Kara flashed back into my mind immediately after Zack’s lips left mine. I saw the way she leaned against him, played with the hem of his shirt and looked up into his eyes, and more than that, I recognized my own envy. I hadn’t been mad at her that night.
I’d been jealous.
Jealous that she got to kiss Zack. Jealous that he was so blatantly flirting after he’d clearly come to the party to make sure no guys did that to me. Was it hypocritical to feel this way while also flirting with Chris? I can’t deny that it wasn’t. But it was how I felt.
How I still feel.
I roll over and look at the empty bed beside me. Nothing happened after the kiss last night. We tried our best to go back to normal, to pretend we hadn’t crossed some huge line that never should’ve been crossed. He went to bed first, and at midnight, I joined him in bed.
Would I have done more had he initiated it? I don’t know. Probably?
Fuck.
This is so messed up.
I let out a groan and sit up, squeezing the bridge of my nose to help alleviate some of the pain from my headache. I grab my phone from the nightstand and see all the missed calls from Julie. Guilt washes over me. After the situation with Chris, I never called her back to let her know that I was okay.
Quickly, I call her for a video chat. She picks up immediately. She’s outside, walking somewhere. “She lives!” she exclaims. “Where the hell were you last night? I called Chris to ask if you were with him, but he said somebody else came to pick you up. I was ready to call the cops!”
I laugh. “I’m okay, don’t worry. I had my brother come and pick me up. Chris and I had a weird moment, and I just needed some time away.”
“Weird moment?”
“It’s nothing!” I really don’t want to get into it all over again. I don’t have the strength to go back to that moment and describe how uncomfortable it was. Julie seems to take this as an answer, because she says,
“If you say so…” She opens a door, and I instantly recognize the tiled ceiling as the coffee shop we always go to before class. “You coming back to the dorm tonight?” she asks. There’s something about her tone that makes me suspicious.
“Why?”
“Because I maaaay have met a guy online and want to invite him back to our room.”
“Julie, you whore!” I exclaim. “Congrats! You should totally invite him over. Just don’t let him use our bathroom. Guys are gross.” Last night, when I had to use Zack’s restroom, I found even more pairs of underwear in the bathroom, as well as a counter covered in tiny little hairs from him shaving his beard.
“Never,” she says adamantly.
After our call, I flop on my back and stare at the ceiling. I’m beyond happy for Julie. She put so much stress on herself trying to find a guy, and now look at her. Stephanie always said, when you stopped looking, you’ll find someone.
In the living room, I hear the front door open. A second later, Zack appears in the doorway with breakfast in hand. I recognize the takeout boxes from IHOP, and I practically jump out of bed to help him bring in the food. I haven’t eaten pancakes in forever, mostly because the ones the school makes are rubber as hell, so finally having something edible makes my stomach do a flip.
“I got you the usual,” he says, opening up a few of the boxes. Inside, I find stacks of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and my favorite, the hash browns.
“Yum,” I say, running off to the kitchen to grab water and the carton of orange juice. There’s not much in it. When I return, Zack hasn’t even waited for me. He’s already digging in, his mouth full of food.
“You didn’t bring any glasses,” he says after he swallows.
“Because I didn’t need one.” To prove my point, I uncap the carton and take a long drink, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “See?”
“Now who’s disgusting?” he asks. He gestures for the carton and I hand it over, joining him on the bed.
“Still you. I didn’t put my underwear on your head.”
He snorts as he drinks, and for a second, I think he’s going to shoot orange juice from his nose. He manages to keep it together, swallowing hard before his head falls back in laughter. “You’re not still mad about that, are you?” he asks, nudging me.
“Yes, I’m still mad!”
“They were a clean pair, Logan!”
I whip around to face him. “That doesn’t matter. I don’t need your gross underwear on my forehead. Besides, you probably don’t even know how to do laundry. You probably just sniffed them and decided they were clean.”
“Guilty,” he says, his full lips pulling into a wide grin.
“Ugh!” I take a bite of bacon and chew angrily, shooting him glares every now and then.
We finish eating breakfast, and when I go to throw away the trash bag, he takes it from my hands and puts it on the floor. I start to protest, but he shakes his head, pulling me close to him. Zack captures my lips in another kiss, and just like last night, I feel chills run through my entire body.
He tastes sweet like syrup, and I moan against his tongue, flicking mine over his. He breaks the kiss and buries his face in my neck, peppering kisses there too. “Fuck,” he groans.
My voice is barely audible. “What?”
“It’s just…you. I know it’s bad, but I want every part of you, Logan. Every last part.” He tilts his head back in looks up into my eyes. I see flecks of gold, and beyond that, the sincerity of his words. He’s not just saying that.
And I can’t say that I don’t want it too. I can’t pretend that this isn’t something I’ve wanted for a while now. All the times I pretended to be grossed out by him. All the times I insulted him. It was all to keep my heart at a distance. And since we crossed that line last night, I don’t feel like holding myself back.
“Then take me,” I whisper.
He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. In a hurry, he lies me down on my back and pulls his shirt over his head. I reach forward and run my fingers over his muscles, a shiver running through my body as I brush every curve of his abs. Zack reaches for my pants and undoes the button. Together, we manage to get them down my legs, and soon after that, in a pile on the floor beside the bed.
His lips find mine again, and as he moves to tug off my panties, I untie the drawstrings on the front of his shorts. A moment later, they join my jeans on the floor. Zack settles between my legs, stroking himself as he looks into my eyes.
“Are you sure?” This is the first time I’ve seen this kind of compassion in his eyes, and it catches me off guard.
I nod. “I’m sure.”
The truth is, until the moment he slides inside of me, I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before, and he knows it. He takes his time, though, easing me through this as best he can, with kisses and nibbles all along my neck and shoulder. I hold onto him, practically clawing at his back, the slight discomfort soon giving way to pleasure.
“Fuck,” he hisses in my ear. I let out a long moan, wrapping my legs around him.
His movements are slow at first, but he builds speed quickly. As he buries himself between my legs, he drops one hand down to my clit, teasing for a moment before working it in small circles.
“Yes,” I gasp, my body vibrating with pleasure. I’ve experimented a few times, tested out what felt right, but this is something else entirely. I’ve never felt anything like this before. My entire head spins, and my fingernails sink into his back as he fucks me. I moan his name over and over again.
His hips snap forward even faster, and I begin to thrust to meet him, our bodies connecting harder than before. The look in Zack’s eyes is intense enough to send shudders through me. He looks hungry, like he’s been waiting for this just as long as I secretly have. When I kiss him, he dominates my mouth, working his tongue with mine in a way that says he’s in charge.
I let him take that control.
I want him to.
Zack’s hips move faster yet, and his headboard knocks against the wall in a steady beat, over and over again. I’m left panting, my entire body hot, as a sparkle of pleasure radiates from my stomach.
“I’m—” I can’t even get the words out. All I can do is let my head fall back in ecstasy as I climax, trembling around his cock as everything inside me turns to mush. I cling to him, taking his thrusts, whimpering as he fucks me with passion.
“Yes,” he breathes, a lazy smile on his face. “That’s it.”
I’m just coming down from my high when his hands tighten on my hips and his movements become more and more erratic. I see the look of concentration on his face, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes dark with desire. And then, his eyebrows jut high and his jaw goes slack.
“Fuck!” he cries, slamming into me over and over again. “Fuck, yes, Logan.” He doesn’t stop until he’s finished with his orgasm, his chest slick with perspiration and his hair slightly damp.
I reach up and pull him close, kissing him deep, desperately.
We stay like this for a long time, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us struggling to catch our breath. I could lie like this for hours with him.
The weight of what we’ve done starts to settle down on me, but I don’t have it in me to care. None of this is wrong. How could it be, when Zack’s only ever made me feel good?
I decide not to question it. The only thing I focus on is the warmth of the afterglow. The post-sex buzz. The delicious feeling that I know that I’ll want more of. The person I know I’ll want more of. Zack.
6
Zack
W ork at the warehouse feels like moving through molasses. Everything seems slower, and I find myself receding into my thoughts. Remembering what Logan and I did together a few days ago. Trying my hardest not to let the memories get me hard while I’m unloading and putting furniture together, surrounded by all my buddies at work.
“Earth to Zack,” my coworker Dennis says, waving a hand in my face. I blink in surprise, almost forgetting where I am.
“What?”
“You gonna help me with this sofa or just stand there like an idiot?” Dennis is older, probably in his late forties, and he’s always been on my ass about getting work done. It used to annoy me at first, but I’ve come to appreciate his no-nonsense approach to work in the warehouse.
He doesn’t let other people on our team slack off, but when it’s time to unwind in the breakroom, he turns into a completely different person, laughing it up and making jokes with the rest of us. A lot of the guys see him as a bit of stickler, but to me, he’s always been like a strict uncle. The kind that will grab you by the back of the neck and drag you to your responsibilities when he needs to, but who’s also a lot of fun when the situation calls for it.
