Page 6 of Spring Fling

Ican’t even begin to process what just happened, I feel as though my very foundation has been rocked. But, when Logan asked me where I was from, my mind started to race. Should I be honest? Are you supposed to tell a one-night, or rather one-week stand, that kind of personal information? The thought seemed kind of idiotic when I really examined it. I mean, first of all, it doesn’t get much more personal than letting him put his—his thing in my ... in me. Second, what are the odds he’d ever remember it, or use it to contact me?

I answered truthfully and it had an odd effect on him. He seems tense and I wish it wasn’t dark in the room so I could properly see his face. I try to shift but he tightens his hold on me. After a minute, he relaxes and starts up with the soothing trace on his fingers on my skin.

“What is your major?” he asks idly.

“Why all the questions?” I ask warily.

He’s quiet for a beat. “I want to get to know you,” he murmurs. “You fascinate me, Abbi. And not just your body, though it certainly has a great deal of my attention.” I can hear the grin in his voice as he finishes.

Well, heck. If I wasn’t already lying down, I’d probably be falling to the floor in a swoon.

“So?” he asks again.

Guilt trickles in as I think about how to respond. He clearly thinks I’m already in college and technically it’s true. However, being totally honest would mean telling him I’m still in high school. What if he freaks out? I’m eighteen, so it’s not like he’s committing a crime.

I ultimately decide not to be completely open. What does it matter if I’ll never see him again after this week?

“I haven’t really decided yet. I suppose I’ll have to since I’ll be entering my sophomore year,” I mused. “Probably something to do with ... ” I trail off before I finish. Telling him what I’m really interested in would blow my “new personality” to smithereens. Why didn’t I come up with a really cool fake background?

“With what?”

“Um, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Abbi,” he says in a strict voice as he lifts my chin from his chest. He peers intently at me in the soft moonlight. “When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it.”

My brows rise but it’s hard for me to ignore the instinct to capitulate to his instruction. “You sound like a teacher, Mr. James,” I snark.

He chuckles. “Force of habit. I suppose it carries over from the classroom. I’m used to being obeyed.” The amusement is no longer in his tone.

“You’re a teacher?” I ask in disbelief. I would never have pegged this tattooed, muscled, sex god as Lord of the classroom.

“Don’t change the subject, Abbi,” he growls. “Yes, I’m a teacher. Now, answer my question.”

I sigh, not seeing a way out of this. “Paleontology, okay? I want to study dinosaurs. There,” I pout, “the truth is revealed. I’m a complete nerd.”

Logan starts laughing so hard that I’m forced to lift off of his chest so my jaw doesn’t snap together. I’m glad he isn’t able to see the fire I feel engulfing my face. I knew it was a mistake to tell him.

“Abbi.” He draws me from my embarrassed stupor with the soft way he says my name. “Trust me when I tell you that this only makes you infinitely more appealing to me. Smart and sexy? It’s pretty much killing me not to fuck you right now.”

“Really?” I ask skeptically. He grabs my hand and shoves it under the covers. I gasp when I feel how big and hard he is.

“What do you think?” he hisses. His whole body has gone rigid and my hand reflexively curls around as much of his shaft as possible, squeezing. His hips buck into my grip. “Fuck!”

A rush of power blows through me. I did this to him. He’s hard for me. Suddenly, I want to know how far I can take him, but he snatches my hand and holds it against his chest. The powerful feeling ebbs away quickly and I’m left feeling awkward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Baby,” he cuts me off. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t ever have to apologize for wanting to touch me. But, we’ve got all week.”

---