Come on, sweetheart, let me in one more time.

  Chapter Seven

  Monica

  What do I say when I open the door? I fucking love you? Ever since he left—since I made him leave—I’ve been thinking those words. And crying. And cursing Brandy’s name for infiltrating my life again. I swipe my fingers under my eyes to clear the evidence of my sobs but I’m sure my face is covered in splotches of redness and flecks of mascara. I think about the hot mess I was when we first had coffee together on his patio and I barely run my fingers through my hair. Part of the reason I’ve fallen for him is because he seems to love every imperfect inch of me. He knocks again and I lower my head to breathe deeply.

  Pulling back the door, I lift my eyes to meet his and the sight of him after only hours apart makes me sigh audibly. Deja vu strikes me as Logan steps into my space and boldly wraps his arms around my waist. Instead of the lust filled, breathless kiss we first shared, he pulls me tightly to his body and stares down at my mouth before bringing his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle at first and then suddenly desperation fuels me and I grip his shirt while my mouth opens against his to take in his tongue. Logan moans into my mouth and I weaken, melting into his grasp. I slide my hands over his shoulders then thread my fingers into his hair.

  “I missed you,” I breathe against his lips. “I’m still mad at you but I missed you.”

  Logan’s strong hands cradle my face, our mouths still brushing against one another as he speaks. “I fucking love you.”

  I gulp and rear back to look into his eyes. He stole the words from my mind and my heart swells beneath my breast because I feel the truth in his words. Complications remain and a long conversation still needs to happen but I want those words still just off his lips as he makes love to me.

  “Touch me, Logan.”

  He groans and doesn’t bother taking me to my bed. We tip back on the couch as clothes come off and our mouths barely unlock. My flesh burns where he touches me and every place he doesn’t touch feels cold. Logan licks his way down my body and I arch against his mouth as goosebumps pepper my skin. I’m as desperate for his touch as I am his mere presence. As he makes his way to my pussy, I tremble and lose myself to feeling while he tastes me and slides his fingers inside me.

  But I want him. I want to melt against his body as close as we can become. I claw at his shoulders and coax him to meet my lips. I taste myself in his mouth and whisper my plea for him in his ear. He sheaths himself in a condom and pushes into me. It’s hasty and frantic the way we paw at each other and urge our bodies to consume one another. My eyes wet with tears and I wonder if this will be the last time. It doesn’t feel like goodbye though. It feels like…don’t ever leave again. It feels like I need you like I need air. It feels like I’m not whole without you. It feels like…

  “I love you, Logan,” I sigh over his shoulder. He stills and I crave the sight of his face but his cheek rests against mine so I can’t attempt to read his expression. Pressing a tender kiss to my temple he releases a shaking breath then pulls back to look me in the eyes. For a moment I think he’s going to say something. Instead he holds my gaze and moves in me slowly. He keeps our eyes locked while he goes from wildly fucking me to making love to me. My bottom lip quivers when I see everything he wants to say in his eyes. Part of me feels crazy for the depth of my feelings for him but the rest of me knows this is right. And though I know this moment is fleeting, I want to memorize the fire in his stare and cling to it forever.

  Our bodies rock until we’re both on the brink of bliss and Logan never breaks my gaze. I know he feel how close I am. He licks his lips and I start to clamp down on his cock. His face wrenches, forceful pleasure ravaging him as I cry out his name and crumble beneath him. He meets me there at the height of ecstasy and we float down as one.

  Slow breaths and pounding hearts, we return to earth. We return to the couch in my living room—the scene of the crime, our argument and the unfortunate truth still hanging in the air.

  Logan’s large hand pets my head and smooths over my hair. I hum happily but push up against him. He sits beside me for only a moment before offering a grimace and ducking into the bathroom for a moment. He returns and covers me with the soft throw blanket nearby and pulls his pants back on. I hate the awkwardness that seems to permeate our shared space now.

  He scratches the back of his head and I finally decide enough is enough. Time to talk.

  “I meant it,” I say. “And I know you meant it…but that doesn’t mean we still don’t have a problem here.”

  He nods absently, worry across his brow. “How can I fix it?”

  An unexpected laugh cracks from my throat startling both of us. “Such a man.”

  “I just—I have to fix it, Monica. I’m not gonna walk away from this again—from you.”

  I was right. What we just shared wasn’t goodbye at all. I sigh and drop my head.

  “Logan it’s complicated. For one, we aren’t experiencing real life right now. Neither of us are working or in school, I’m not on mom duty, there’s been little to no responsibility these last few days. And the truth is I’m still not sure how I feel about the Brandy thing.”

  He swallows thickly and continues his nervous nodding. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper, cuddling further under the blanket.

  He turns pulling one leg up on the couch and scoots close to me. “She was always talking about forever. Marriage and kids and a whole life of togetherness. Two-car garage, white picket fence, that whole thing. When she would bring it up I’d almost feel sick. It sounded horrible. I felt guilty because I wanted to be with her but I wasn’t interested in her plans at all. So I’d tell her maybe someday and remind her we were young and had our whole lives for all that. In the end I told her the truth, that I wasn’t interested in marriage or kids of forever.”

  I try not to react but my heart hurts and although he said he wants to fix us, he’s scaring me. Logan inches toward me and finds my hand, encasing it between both of his. “But then you came along,” he says. “And now I know it wasn’t me not wanting those things…I just didn’t want them with her. Monica, I love you. You make me feel like I’m home. Your bed feels like mine. A meal doesn’t make sense anymore without you to share it with. It feels like we belong together.”

  My heart races with every word he says. He squeezes my now overheated hand and waits for my reaction.

  “If we do this…”

  Logan sports a grin at my hesitant opening and I shake my head and laugh at him. Unable to hide his happiness he beams and caresses my cheek. I pull his hand away from my face and join it with our other hands, clasped in my lap.

  “I’m not ready to include the kids or Todd and Brandy. I—”

  “One day at a time,” Logan murmurs. “How about just one day at a time?”

  The simplicity of his suggestion springs tears to my eyes. It’s the kind of freedom I never felt I had before and he offers it so easily. Something stirs inside me as I look at this handsome young man. He’s given me new experiences and blissful moments too abundant to count in just a few days—think of what a lifetime would allow. Without a word, I lean forward and claim his mouth with mine. I silently agree and acknowledge that this feels like home. Though I don’t know if it will forever, we will have to see. One day at a time.

  Epilogue

  Five Months Later

  Monica

  The kids are silent in the backseat as I bypass the drop off line and find a parking space near the office entrance. I unbuckle my seatbelt and glance back at them where they sit with wide eyes, unmoving.

  “Well come on, guys,” I say.

  Hailey unfastens herself from her booster and looks at me worriedly. “Why didn’t you just drop us off? Are we in trouble?”

  I laugh then see the same look of concern on Nate’s face and soften. “You’re not in trouble,” I assure them. “I’m just going to walk you in. Is that okay?”

  “Uh, sure,” Nate says as he and Hailey exit the car. They follow me through the office where I wave and offer a quick greeting to Mary, the school secretary, then we head for Nate’s classroom first since it’s closest. He gives my side a quick squeeze and looks up at me, worry still painting his face. He must’ve grown five inches in the last three months, I take a second to let my heart swell as I gaze at my boy and wonder how much longer he’ll be looking up at me and not the other way around.

  “Dad’s picking you up. I’ll see you Sunday night. Love you,” I say, not daring to plant a kiss on his forehead. He’s still my cuddle bug most days but not when the eyes of other fifth grade boys are near. He makes his way into his classroom then Hailey tugs on my hand leading me to her room, sure to point out all the other rooms along the way telling me which of her friends is in each one. We finally reach her classroom and she barely hugs me before darting inside meeting her best friend Emma with a giggling embrace. I watch from the door, leaned against the frame with my arms folded as she hangs up her backpack and finds her seat.

  My eyes drift to the teacher’s desk and my pulse quickens. Either one of us could’ve gone to the office and requested Hailey be transferred to another classroom, but we didn’t. Logan and I had talked about it for hours—all the reasons it was a bad idea, the many ways it couldn’t blow back on us. But ultimately, we decided to keep our secret, and I decided I wanted my daughter to have an amazing man teaching her. Maybe one day he would be more than just her teacher but for the time being, she and her brother simply thought he was our neighbor. It was too soon to complicate their lives even more—they already had to deal with one new person in their life.

  Logan glances up and catches my gaze. His eyes light up and the corners of his mouth tip up as he stands. “Ms. Anders, good morning.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Miller,” I say, adding a touch of a purr to his name, just enough for him to know what’s really on my mind as I take in his crisp button-down shirt and tie. I know when he gets home he will have those sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing the black shadowy roses on his left arm and the new addition to his right arm. A band just below his right elbow—a cuff of black lace.

  Yes, we are crazy. He’s permanently marked himself in my honor and every time I see it, the lace that closely resembles my own tattoo beneath my breasts, I heat from the inside out. We run our fingers over one another’s ink in silence before we pleasure each other with hands, mouths, body, mind and spirit. I fell in love with the boy next door in a matter of days but each passing moment continues to reassure me that Logan isn’t the fling I thought I was getting when I heard his tell-tale knock on my wall.

  Logan approaches me in the doorway after instructing the class to get out their notebooks. The tips of our shoes touch and I want to reach out to graze the hair at his temple with my fingers. His hands bury themselves in his pockets, possibly to restrain himself from his own desires to touch me. I press my lips together to smother the girlish grin I always wear for him.

  “I just wanted to say hi,” I whisper.

  “I’m glad you did,” he replies. “Hi.”

  The chatter of the room filled with twenty-some second graders fades in my ears as Logan’s dark chocolate eyes smolder while a hint of a smile still curves his lips. The looks he gives me have yet to stop making me feel like the sexiest woman on earth. With a simple wink he continues to make me weak. And with the lightest touch Logan still makes me quiver with anticipation.

  He leans in an inch more, sharing the air I breathe. “The things I’m going to do to you tonight, Ms. Anders…”

  My eyes flash wide and I cough. “And on that note, I should let you start your day,” I say with a nervous laugh.

  “Three-thirty, be ready for me, sweetheart.” Logan winks and my fantasies run wild, most likely drenching my panties with mere thoughts of our weekend of freedom. It’s amazing how hot waiting can be. The sexts and the neighborly chit chat full of innuendo and wrought with sexual tension have become this never ending foreplay that I’ve become addicted to. It still feels so fun and easy. There are days when I worry it will change in time. I worry when our lives truly combine—when we are open with our relationship, when we live together and eventually have real difficulties—that things will be hard. But I can’t dwell on the what ifs.

  I turn on my heels, give a wave to Hailey at her seat and give one final glance full of heat to Logan just before he addresses his class.

  Three-thirty comes agonizingly slow but when the clock above my stove reads three-thirty-two, a knock sounds at my front door. I bite my lip and smile as I pull back the door to see Logan as I’d envisioned before—sleeves rolled up, tie long gone, and a look of lust-filled determination in his eyes.

  “Hey, neighbor,” he croons. He doesn’t wait for my greeting before walking me backwards, holding onto my waist, bringing his lips down on mine. God I’ve missed him. Our tongues dance, hungry for one another as though it’s been months since we last kissed. It’s been four days. Four long days.

  Logan and I find our way into my bedroom, dropping clothes in our wake. I sit back on the bed, naked and wanton as he loses his last piece of clothing with a devilish smirk. Logan climbs over me, his strong arms caging me. I glance at the black lace tattoo on his skin then watch as he glances at mine. I know we are thinking the same thing. That our feelings are written on our bodies and nothing will change that. No matter what happens, the ink we wear marks this place and time where we are in love and happy and we enjoy every moment of each other.

  His lips graze my ear as he speaks. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

  I shiver at the demand and moan when his tongue skates to the hollow of my throat as though he wants to draw my reply from my vocal chords. “I want to ride your cock,” I purr. Logan sighs against my flesh and with swift hands, grips my waist and rolls me on top of him. I gasp at the feeling of his stiff cock nudging my core. My hands waste no time guiding him within me. There’s time for foreplay and there’s days like this when we’ve missed each other so much we can’t wait another second to be fused as one. Logan groans as I begin to rock my hips, sliding him deeper inside every time until we both release a deep noise. Nestled inside my warmth, he sweeps his hands up my spine with care. The two sides of Logan thrill me equally. The tender lover and the bold man who started this adventure.

  He sits up and takes my nipple between his lips, rolling his tongue over the hardened peak. My hands grip his hair, the top long enough to really curl my fingers into. We grind against each other with nothing but the sounds of our breath hanging in the air. Our eyes meet and my heart opens like a flower blossoming in spring. Low in my belly, the burn begins—every touch and kiss and deeper thrust adding more sparks that eventually rage like devastating wildfire. Sweat beads on his brow and trickles down the nape of my neck as we push harder and harder against one another. My nails scrape over his back. He bites my shoulder. I breathe his name and come undone in his arms. A broken noise leaves my lungs and Logan grunts as he shatters just after me.

  I fucking love this man. I love fucking this man.

  * * *

  Logan

  Two Years Later

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Logan!”

  I’ll never tire of hearing her scream my name as I slam my dick as deep inside her as possible. I grit my teeth and pump until I explode then catch my breath as she mewls, coming down from her own high.

  We still make sure to be our wildest when the kids are with her ex but in the year since she introduced me to them as Logan, their mom’s boyfriend and not Mr. Miller from school, things have been wild in a different way. Monica was the first woman to make me feel like I could be a part of a family of my own and now she’s made it a reality. We bought a house shortly after telling the world about our relationship and Nate and Hailey seem to have accepted me whole-heartedly.

  Brandy and Todd didn’t last which was a relief and a bit ironic. The woman dead set on having a family couldn’t hack the blended life but her former boyfriend who never pictured himself with a wife and kids was about to make it all official….

  Monica rolls off of me with a huff.

  “My throat hurts,” she says with a laugh.

  “Makes sense seeing as you’ve been screaming like a banshee while I fuck you silly. You’re welcome by the way.”

  She props on an elbow and faces me with a mock sneer. “Just because we live together doesn’t mean I’m above putting a literal wall between us if you can’t be nice.”

  My hand snakes between her legs rubbing the mess we’ve made against her clit making her gasp. “You’d just knock on that wall and you know it.”

  Her teeth capture her plump bottom lip as I work her toward an aftershock. Her eyelids flutter and her thighs shake. I play her body like a finely tuned instrument and in a few minutes she’s squealing again, clawing at my biceps.

  “You’re right. Fuck walls,” she breathes.

  I chuckle and press a kiss to her lips, tasting her tongue gently.

  “I’ll go get you some ice water, sweetheart.”

  She hums a reply that’s both happy and satisfied. The moment I reach the kitchen and find a glass in the cabinet my hands start to shake. Be cool, Miller, it’s only the rest of your life. I bring the cool glass to Monica who is propped up on pillows. She gulps it down and I let out another small laugh—half genuine, half straight up nerves.

  I find my shorts on the floor and tug them on. I want her to be naked when I do this but I’m vulnerable enough as it is without my dick out. Turning my back to her I know she’s oblivious to what’s coming as I reach in my sock drawer to find the ring I’d hidden there a few days ago.

  Nate and Hailey saw it before they left for their dads for the weekend and both gave their approval. Well, Nate only gave his after a startlingly stern look and a speech about how if I hurt his mother he’d make me wish I’d never been born. Pretty badass for a seventh grader, honestly. I assured him he didn’t need to worry and he shook my hand and smiled, telling me the ring was bigger than the one she used to wear. Oh, I fucking know it, kid, I’d thought.

 

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