Page 87 of Best Kept Secret
MILLIE
Logan’s hand pauses its ministrations on his beautiful cock, and I hear him mutter a curse I know he didn’t mean for me to hear. Suddenly, the camera flickers, and I’m met with his handsome face again. Only this time, it’s a lot less cocky, his cheeks flushed, eyes wide.
“Logan,” I say, biting back a smile. “Why do you have one of my scrunchies around your wrist?”
He drags his tongue over his bottom lip, forehead wrinkled in thought as he seemingly considers his response. He’s so flustered, I almost laugh, but he’s so damn adorable. I don’t care that he has it. I’m just genuinely curious because I haven’t seen that scrunchie in forever.
“You dropped it,” he says quietly, not looking at me. “That day outside my apartment. When you… left.”
My lips part on a soft gasp. He’s right.
“I found it on the ground and I kept it.” His gaze lifts, meeting mine, a sheepish look in his eyes. “I wear it when I play…” His face twists with uncertainty. “Is that weird?”
I shake my head, emotion wrapping around my heart and squeezing it tight.
“I usually take it off and hide it in my hockey bag, but I-Imust’ve forgot tonight.” He presses his lips together in a wry grin, shrugging a shoulder.
The fact that he not only kept my scrunchie this whole time, but that he wears it when he plays hockey—my heart has never felt so complete. “God, I love you.”
“You own me, Red,” Logan whispers. “You fucking own me.”
And I can tell by the husk in his voice, by the pull in his shoulder, that he’s touching himself again, and my pussy throbs.
“I wanna see your cock again,” I practically mewl.
“Not until I see you.” He grins, biting down on his bottom lip.
“See me?” My brow furrows. “I’m right here.”
“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “I wanna see you, baby.Allof you.”
It’s the low growl in his voice that does it for me. It, combined with the heated look in his gaze that I feel even through the phone.
I place the phone onto the small wooden stool I sat next to the bathtub, resting it against the jar of Nutella I was eating when he called me. Pulling myself onto my knees, my upper body rising out of the water, I make sure the camera is angled to capture as much of me as I can offer him. And, judging by the look in his eyes, he can see it all.
“Better?”
“Fuck yeah,” Logan rasps.
With a coy smile, I drag my hands up my sides, bringing bubbles up from the water and coating my skin, cupping my breasts.
“Play with your nipples.”
I giggle, feeling my cheeks heat beneath the weight of his stare, but doing exactly what he says. Drawing circles around my pebbled nipples, I roll them between my fingers and pinch, tugging on them and feeling it in my core.
“Look at you, baby.”
Between the husk in his voice, the reverence in his eyes, and the ache in my pussy, I can’t contain my own whimper.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”
“I wanna see you,” I urge with a moan. “I wanna see you fist that big, fat cock.”
Logan grins, and it’s devious. And then the camera flips and gives me exactly what I want, his hand wrapped around his beautiful thick shaft, working it with slow, measured strokes, twisting, up and down and over the flared head, collecting the bead of liquid that, even from across the country, makes my mouth water with the need to taste him.
“Yes,” I whisper, twisting my peaked nipples until it’s so good it almost hurts but in the best way.
“Touch your pussy, baby,” Logan grunts out. And the fact that I can’t see his face, only his hand jerking his cock, heightens my senses, adding to the already erotic sensation.
