Page 142 of Becoming Selfish

My sweet girl has turned dark tonight, and I fucking love it.

“That was incredible,” I say in a sedated tone. “I didn’t know that’s what you had in mind when you told me I would be holding your hair back tonight.”

I lean down and place my smirking lips on Logan’s. “Your turn.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks as I pick her up and toss her on my bed.

“Don’t ask questions,” I say to her in the same forceful manner as she did earlier, though I make sure to add a playful edge in my tone as I do.

“Yes, sir,” she says, which gets my tired guy to perk back up real quick.

“You don’t need these, right?” I run my hands up her thighs, over her fishnets.

She doesn’t use words. She just shakes her head as her dark hooded eyes look down at my hands.

“Good.” I rip the tights off her body, giving myself access to her pretty pussy. I don’t want to deal with the rest of her costume, so I push it up and out of the way. As much as I can’t wait to peel this little number off her, right now, I just want to make her feel as good as she made me feel.

When my tongue makes contact with her warm wetness, Logan arches her back and cries out my name. The sound is music to my ears, and I wouldn’t mind everyone hearing my name leave her lips. I continue my movements, knowing exactly what she likes as I tease her, causing her to scream so loudly that there’s no way in hell people can’t hear us even with the loud music downstairs.

I flick, circle, tease, and suck as her white knuckles grip my sheets until she completely comes undone from my tongue.

“Fuck me,” she sighs in satisfaction as I climb onto the bed next to her.

“Can’t wait to.” My fingers glide against her pulsing clit.

After a few sedate minutes of lying next to each other, I lean over and kiss Logan’s pretty mouth, then her tattoo before I stand and redress myself in my costume.

She leans up on her elbows, watching my every movement.

“Enjoying the show?” I ask as I slip my white tee over my head.

“Mmm-hmm,” she hums. “Very much so.”

I laugh at my cute girl and her honestly tonight. “Let’s go.” I walk over to her, lying on my bed. Pulling her arms towards me, she whines as I force her to stand. “If we don’t go now, we are never going to leave this room. And Ali will have my head if I leave Catwoman stranded without her Poison Ivy.”

“You’re right,” she drunkenly agrees as she pulls off what remains of her ruined fishnets.

I guide Logan downstairs as I hold her hand in mine. The music has gotten louder, and the crowd has gotten larger as we make it to the base of the stairs.

“Let’s go outside,” Logan projects over the music.

“Are you sure? You’re going to get cold.”

“Thanks to the mixture of the booze and you making me come, I’m pretty warm right now,” she says, causing my mouth to gape at her lack of a filter tonight.

Drunk Logan is the best.

I lead her out the back door, and the cold air instantly hits us. The back porch is surprisingly empty tonight. Typically, this is a popular hangout spot on party nights, but thanks to the DJ and makeshift dance floor in the living room, the backyard is almost all ours.

There’s a couple of groups of people out here. A few girls huddled around the outdoor heater and another handful of guys passing around a cigarette. There’s also a couple hooking up on one of the outdoor benches. She’s straddling him with her back towards us, and by the looks of them, they’re going to need to get a room here pretty soon.

Except that’s not just some random couple. Judging by the full black latex outfit and cat ears...that’s Ali with her back towards us.

“Damn, Ali! Get it!” I yell out, teasing her the same way should would me if the roles were reversed.

She snaps her head back to look at Logan and me as her eyes widen in shock, revealing the guy underneath her.

“Marc?” Logan asks in disbelief.

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