Page 123 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

“You like that move, Red?” he asked with a grin.

I gave him my best unimpressed look, even though the evidence of my arousal was impossible to hide.

“Are you going to make me come or not?” I snapped, and he laughed at me like I was a playful kitten trying its best to be big.

Why was the sound of his laugh so freaking sexy?

Logan rubbed his fingers through my folds, lightly at first, as he began to tease me. I tried to rock against him, trying to get more friction.

“Sweetest cunt,” he murmured before he slowly lowered to the floor. His tongue licked once through my folds. “Sweetest girl,” he continued.

A moan slipped from my lips, and I stiffened. Because that had been too easy for him.

Logan softly rimmed my slit with one finger before sliding it inside me.

I loved his fingers. They felt so fucking good. His other hand went to my breast, massaging it just how I liked it. I’d never admit that to him, obviously, but he may have been some kind of genius, capable of mimicking what I liked perfectly just from watching me that one day.

I tried to close my eyes, because the intensity of his stare was making all of it feel even better, but he wasn’t going to have any of that.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded, and I forced my gaze back to him as if his words held secret powers. As I watched, he slid in two more fingers, rubbing against that one spot and making my back arch up from the bed, a mewling cry sounding around the room.

“You and I both know it’s impossible for me to lose this bet. I’ve made it my mission in life to worship you every chance I get. Of course I’m going to make you come.”

“Logan,” I whispered, feeling his words deep in my chest.

And they were making meache.

His tongue sucked hard on my clit, and another finger pushed in. It feltalmostas good as his dick.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he said roughly, before his lips were torturing me again.

“Fuck,” I cried out as I came with a strangled gasp. Wave after wave of pleasure floated through me, and it took me a second to realize that the screams ricocheting around the room…were from me.

I was having trouble remembering my own name as I came back down.

Logan stood up from the floor and then leaned over me on the bed. His lips were shiny from my cum, and I reached up and rubbed it into his skin, wanting to mark him the way it felt like he marked me.

“Fuck, Calloway. You acted like that was going to be hard,” he said with a sexy grin.

I huffed and rolled my eyes before I focused on how his dick was literally trying to burst from his shorts. Reaching out, I was shocked when he slid away.

“Unfortunately, my dick is still a little out of commission,” he said, a bashful note in his voice.

Ah, right. His tattoo. I licked my lips because something about him marking himself like that got me ready to go all over again.

“Maybe I should have just whipped out my dick for you to look at,” he commented.

I pretended to think about it for a moment. “Maybe,” I agreed.

My smile faded as he gazed down at me with a serious look in his eye.

“Tell me why you don’t want to go to the parade today. I know you love my friends…and I know you love me. So what is it?”

I looked away from him, suddenly feeling like I was going to cry.

“What if someone recognizes me,” I whispered. It had happened the other day; we’d been out to dinner, and one of my former clients had stopped at our table. Logan and I had immediately left. “I don’t—I don’t want to embarrass you.”

His body flinched like he’d been shot. “Baby, is that what you think? That I was embarrassed the other night?”

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