Tall, Tatted and Tempting(44)

I yawn. The bed is calling to me. I go back in Logan’s room, and he’s lying exactly like I left him. I draw the shades closed, so the room isn’t quite so bright. Then I take off his boxers and slide back into bed with him. He reaches for me immediately, pulling me into him as he rolls and covers me with his leg, his thigh across the backs of mine. “You all right?” he asks.

I nod. I’m all right. I can’t help but think that I’m where I’m supposed to be.

He brushes my hair from my face and nuzzles me with his lips. I settle deeper into him and go back to sleep with him wrapped around me.

It seems like only moments later when the bed begins to vibrate.





Logan



The bed vibrates and I reach over and smack the alarm clock. I hate early Saturday mornings. But I promised Sam that I would go and run some plays with him in the park before the shop opens. Sam’s a football player, and he’s being scouted by a few colleges. He thinks he might get a full ride, and I couldn’t be happier for him. He doesn’t have the grades to get a scholarship like I did. But he’s capable of getting an education through sports, and that works too.

The purr of Kit’s throat tells me that she’s saying something. I look down at her lips, but she’s laying with her face smushed into the pillow. “Did you say something?” I ask, rolling her to her back. I throw my leg across her.

She doesn’t speak, but she signs the word no at me. My heart leaps. She smiles, then her brown eyes open and she blinks at me. “Did I do that right?” She signs the word for right, but nothing more.

“Yes, it’s right. Where did you learn that?”

“I watched some DVD’s with Hayley this morning when she woke me up.” She yawns and turns toward me. “Will you sign with me? I want to learn your language so we can talk around your brothers.”

My heart swells.

“I can learn to sign,” she begins, like she has to justify her ability to learn. I put my finger over her lips.

“Shh…” I say. “I’ll sign with you any time you want.”

She’s lying on her back with my t shirt sliding up to expose a strip of skin over her panties. I reach out, and run my hand along the seam of her panties, dipping the tips of my fingers below the elastic. She squirms and her eyes open. They’re soft and warm and pleading with me.

I should move away from her. But I can’t. I haven’t been able to get away from her since I met her, and I can’t start now.

I bend my head and press my lips to that little strip of skin, lingering there as I kiss my way from one hip to the other. She arches her back, pressing her heat closer to me. If she were anyone else, I would be pulling her panties down her legs by now. But she’s not anyone else. She’s mine. And she’s special. I groan out loud, flip her shirt down and move up to kiss her quickly. I’m sure I have morning breath, so I don’t linger. But as I move to roll off of her, she grabs my shoulders and pulls me back to her. “I’m not a virgin, you know?” she says.

I still. I didn’t know. And I don’t care. “Ok.” I don’t know what else to say.

She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at me as she says, “I just wanted to be sure you know in case that’s why you’re hesitating so much.”

“Ok.” I pry her hands from my chest and roll away from her. She taps my shoulder and I look at her.

“It’s not like I’ve been with a lot of guys or anything.” She hesitates.

“I didn’t ask.” I smile at her in encouragement. But I’m sort of reeling from her declaration. I look into her eyes. “Did you ever do it with someone you were in love with?” I drag my crooked finger down the line of her jaw.

“Not yet,” she says.

I can’t bite back my smile. “Good.” Neither have I.

My dick is so hard that I have to shove it down into my jeans. I turn away from her long enough to do it and zip.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To toss the football with Sam.”

She throws the covers off and her face lights up. “Can I go?”

I stop. “You want to go toss a football in the park?”

She nods enthusiastically, her eyes shining. “There are a lot of things I can’t do. But football isn’t one of them.”

“You play football?”

“Played,” she clarifies. She takes on a strong man pose. “Four years with the pee wee league.”

I laugh. “Get dressed. You can come with me.”

She jerks on a pair of jeans and lifts her hair into a messy pony tail. Damn, she’s pretty. She picks up her bra, turns her back to me and hides her arms in the shirt, adjusting the bra beneath the fabric. Within seconds, she’s ready to go. She slides on her boots and nods. “Ready?” she asks. “You look like you’ve never seen a woman get dressed quickly.”

“I’ve never woken up with a woman,” I say. She stops moving and stares at me. “So, no, I’ve never watched one get dressed to start the day.” It’s usually a quick shrug into clothing after I kick someone out of my bed. Correction – after I make her come and then kick her out of my bed. But one day soon, I hope to watch her get dressed without holding the shirt over the best parts. “It seems really intimate, and I’ve never paid attention to anyone getting dressed after getting out of my bed.” I shrug. “I like it.”