Page 33 of Faking the Play

He was putting himself out there. The least I could offer was the truth.

“And if I do want you too?” I asked.

He gave me the sort of smoky smile that made my panties damp and my heart beat faster. “Then you just have to say the word and I’ll have you on that table, trying desperately not to scream my name.”

“Oh.” My pulse fluttered madly and my mind spun. “What word do I have to say?”

He lowered his head until his lips hovered bare millimeters above mine. “Yes, Amelia. Just say yes.”

It was somehow both the easiest and the hardest word I’d ever had to say.

“Yes.”

Logan made a sound low in his throat seconds before his mouth crashed into mine. I didn’t try to stifle my moan as his tongue swept between my lips, myyesunleashing a passion I’d never imagined Logan hid below the surface. At least not for me.

Without taking his mouth from mine, he lifted me onto the table, making the height difference between us a little easier to manage. Pulling my hair out of its ponytail, he buried a hand in the now loose strands, and I took that as permission to finally mess with that thick black hair. His other hand explored the rest of me, moving down along my waist and over my hip, down my leg as far as he could reach without breaking our kiss.

I was the one who pulled back first, gasping as his hand slid under the hem of my dress. I’d started preferring dresses to shorts during the summer when I was in high school, and it stuck with me. Now, as the heat of his hand traveled back up my leg, I discovered that my preference had other benefits. His fingers paused at the waistband of my panties.

“Have Ryan or Ethan tasted you yet?”

The rough edge to his voice sent goosebumps racing across my skin. I shook my head, the flush on my face deepening as I made a confession.

“No one has.”

Logan looked stunned. “You’re telling me that no one has ever gone down on you?”

I shook my head, dropping my gaze.

He hooked a finger under my chin and raised my head. “Let me guess. That asshole ex said it grossed him out, but he expected you to do it for him.”

I shrugged, and that seemed to be answer enough. My heart skipped a beat as Logan went down on his knees.

“And just so we’re clear,” he said as he pushed up my skirt. “I expectnothingin return. I just want to make you come on my tongue.”

With that pronouncement hanging in the air, he pulled my legs over his shoulders and buried his face between my legs. I made an embarrassing squeaking sound and pressed my fist against my mouth to keep it all inside. The last thing myreputation needed right now was for some curious student—or librarian—to find me in here with the star quarterback devouring me like a starving man at a feast.

The first pass of his tongue went over my panties and I flushed, knowing he’d be able to tell how turned on I was just from the bit of kissing we’d done. He didn’t say anything, just pulled my panties aside and ran the flat of his tongue over my sensitive skin. Then he changed it up, dancing the tip of his tongue along my slit, teasing at going deeper until I squirmed.

Or rather, I tried to. He grabbed my hips and held me in place with a steel grip. If it’d been someone else, I might’ve felt trapped, but with him, the harder he held me down, the safer I felt.

His lips moved over me, opening me up to his questing tongue. It circled my entrance, dipping inside for only a moment before moving up to that bundle of nerves that was waiting for some attention.

My entire body jerked the moment he touched my clit, the soft, wet heat of his tongue so different from fingers. Lighter pressure and a different texture registered in my brain, alongside the sensation of Logan’s hair brushing against the insides of my thighs, the near pain of fingers digging into my flesh.

But it was the fact that this was Logan—my friend, my first kiss, my Logan—that charged the pleasure coursing through me. Electricity in my veins, across my nerves, filling every cell with something too powerful to contain. I wanted to drop my head back, close my eyes, and just enjoy, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My breath came in ragged pants from between parted lips, my fingers held tightly to the edge of the table, and I watched as he pressed his mouth even closer.

Suddenly, his gaze flicked up to me and held. With us locked together like that, he took my clit between his lips and started to suck on it. Hard, deep pulls mixed with rough licks from the flatof his tongue, the exact opposite of the light touches from only moments ago. The change sent me careening over the edge with a stifled cry, my body jerking with the force of my orgasm.

He kept working my body through one climax and into a shocking second that had me curling over him, my fingers buried in his hair as I struggled to breathe. Only when I begged him to stop, my overloaded nervous system unable to take anything else, did he sit back on his heels, face shiny, a smug grin curving his lips.

I slumped back on the desk, too spent to even tug down my dress. When I heard the sound of a zipper, however, I found the strength to raise my head far enough to see that Logan had his cock out. As I watched, he moved his hand up and down the thick shaft, faster and rougher than I would’ve thought comfortable, let alone pleasurable. I’d given hand jobs before, but I’d never actually sat and watched a guy get himself off like this.

I probably wouldn’t have found it as hot if it were someone else.

Well, Ethan and Ryan would’ve been equally as hot.

And now I was thinking about all three of them jacking off while staring at my…

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