act of loving me could heal him in some small way.
After several minutes of torturing me with his fingers and watching me squirm while he kissed my inner thighs, belly, and hips, he finally flicked his tongue across my clit. My hips shot straight off the bed. He chuckled and held my thighs in place, then lowered his mouth to me once again. He suckled my clit into his mouth, his tongue doing laps against me. I panted and cursed, and thrust against his mouth, long past caring about how I looked to him. He made me hotter than I’d ever been.
He pulled my legs apart and eagerly suckled at my folds. I cried out loudly. There was nothing tentative or shy about his touches. He worked me over as if he’d known my body for years rather than days. Seeing this side of him was new discovery. There was nothing fleeting or impersonal about this. With Logan it was all or nothing. Is that why he had held himself back from making love to me?
When my cries grew louder, he still didn’t relent. He only held me in place and continued to lick and suck on my most sensitive parts until I fell apart. My orgasm built slowly, but once it crashed through me, I moaned his name in a final whimper and fell back against the bed, completely spent.
Logan chuckled at me, and curled his body against mine, holding me while the aftershocks of my orgasm pulsed through me.
After a little while, he found my panties and slid them up my legs, securing them in place and then folded me into his arms again. Playtime was apparently over.
I hated feeling like I was using him for my own pleasure, but I knew he wouldn’t let me return the favor. I didn’t have the energy to examine this new part of our relationship the way I wanted to, but my last thought before I drifted off to sleep was that if this was the only way I could provide comfort to him and chase away his nightmares, then so be it. Selfless, I know. Mother-friggin-Teresa, right here.
Chapter Nine
Saturday at noon was my weekly standing coffee date with Liz, and as I strolled into our usual coffee shop, I picked at the cat hair on my black sweater. “Damn cat,” I muttered.
“You got a cat? Since when?” Liz said, coming up behind me.
“Oh, um, yeah. I got a cat this week.”
She eyed me curiously. “O-kay. But you hate cats.”
“I don’t hate cats.” I actually did hate them.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes.
We ordered our coffee and claimed the lounge chairs in the back. Liz’s eyes were on me from the second I sat down. “What?”
She cocked her head. “Something’s going on with you.” She took a quick sip of her bucket-sized iced Americano, biting into the straw.
I tried to act casual, but crap, once Liz was on the trail, there was no hiding anything you didn’t want her to know.
“Something’s not adding up. You’re done working with Logan, Professor Clancy told me he’s no longer at the hospital and you’ve still been MIA all week. And you’ve got to admit the cat is strange.”
I removed the lid from my latte, needing something to do with my hands. “Nope, nothing’ going on. Clancy returned my thesis with tons of edits, so I’ve just been busy working on that. And the cat…that’s nothing. He was just a stray I found.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you kidding me? You think it’s your job to fix all the stray men and animals in the city of Chicago? Honey…” She shook her head. “You’ve got to let this go.”
I took another sip of my drink, trying to think of a way to change the subject. Liz had a history of drawing truths out of me that she didn’t need to know about. Such as my grooming habits, or the fact that I didn’t own any sex toys, which we promptly changed with a trip to the sex shop several months ago. Not that I regretted that particular intervention, but still, wasn’t I entitled to some privacy?
Besides she would flip if she found out Logan was living with me. If she told Clancy or anyone else, I didn’t