Blind (Senses Series Book 1) (7 page)

Before he can respond, I pull away, and sharply turn heading for my room leaving no time for a response.

I’m going to play this game. You know, I’ve spent years reading about how to seduce guys in romance novels and have a catalog of shit I’ve always wanted to try. It’s probably the only time that being a book nerd like me is an advantage in this kind of warfare. Long Live Book Nerds!

Chapter 12

Logan

What the fuck just happened?

I spent all morning convincing myself to act as cool as possible when she ripped me a new one and then she does the complete opposite. She fucking licks my ear.

You saw that right! She fucking licked. My. Ear.

Her tongue on my body caused my cock to rise in my shorts immediately, which pisses me the fuck off. After last night, and its refusal to stay hard when I needed it most, it makes me wanna chop it for being a backstabbing bastard. Betraying me last night in a threesome because I couldn’t get Maxx off my brain. Declining perfectly acceptable pussy because he couldn’t be balls deep in her. Not like it’s my fault! I mean I guess it’s my fault. I could’ve had Maxx on the spot last night but where would that have led us? Even farther down this yellow brick road of fucked up?

And don’t start with me this morning. It’s early. Not to mention I’m fucking cranky after the titanic failure of sex episodes.

Growling I adjust my dick needing it to will itself down. I don’t know what happened to me last night. I figured it was because I was so wound up from the night before that I just needed to get my dick wet, but then seeing Maxx, I couldn’t stop myself for another minute.

Ugh. And she looked so damn sexy in that fucking dress last night. Did you see it? I’m gonna have to yell at Erin for dressing her like that. It’s slowly killing me.

I rush up the stairs and open the door to Luke’s room where he is buckling his belt. Without waiting for an invitation I walk in, shut the door behind me, and flop down onto the floor beside his bed.

Luke’s always been particular about his bedroom, but his bed specifically. It is only to be touched by him. Others are not invited. Not just family, but boyfriend’s either. I know for a fact he’s never had sex with a boyfriend in his own bed before. How fucking weird is that?

He prepares to put on a pink golf shirt when I veto. “Pink? Really?”

“Yeah,” he replies. My head tilts. “Fine.” Luke puts the shirt back on his wooden hanger, the only kind he keeps, and reaches for an orange polo. “Better?”

“Much.”

“What are you doing in my room?”

“Sitting.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t feel like standing.”

Luke growls, “Did you need something Kellar?”

“Nah…”

“Alright. Fine. What are you doing today?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Probably video games until Maxx gets back from her date.”

Once the shirt is on and he begins tucking it in, he says, “Right. Her date with Tony.”

I fight the urge to snarl, like some sort of rabid mutt. “What do you think about him?”

Adjusting his collar he shrugs. “I like him. Seems like a nice guy. Maxx really likes him.”

She doesn’t really like him. If she really liked him, she wouldn’t have kissed me back last night. She would’ve stopped me. But she didn’t. She didn’t even try a little. He’s a filler. Like salad.

I really hate salad.

I change the subject. “You seem to really like the new guy.”  Luke stumbles over the shoes in the closet after my comment.

Quickly he rebounds, golf shoes in hand. “Why would you say that?”

“Maybe because you couldn’t complete a sentence when he was around.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Am I? Luke I am?”

He pauses for a minute a very obvious red color creeping onto his cheeks.

Motherfucker. I didn’t know he could blush.

“Shut it Kellar.”

“Is that why you were home later than normal? Trying to get into his pants?”

“Not all of us only having screwing on the forefront of our mind. Some of us are actually interested in things like relationships. Taking it slow. Taking our time.” His jab is followed by him ceasing all movements like this isn’t about him at all.

The last thing I need right now is someone else beating me the fuck up. Am I not already doing a really good job of that myself?

“Dude you move so slow I know grandpas in nursing homes who see more play than you.” My comment makes him scowl and me smile.

Cheap shot, but I needed something to make me feel a little less shitty about him being right. Because let’s face it, we both know he is.

***

The thing that eats at me the most about being in the house when everyone’s gone is that it reminds me of the house I spent so much time running away from. It constantly feels like the walls are closing in on me, even though this house could eat the one I was raised in for a snack. I hate being here alone. Makes me feel like I’m just waiting for the old man to swing open the front door with a six pack in his hand ready to numb the pain of working too hard. Makes me feel as if at any minute there’s going to be a knee jammed into my ribs bruising them, or an elbow dropped on my spine, or a forearm to the back of my skull. Being alone makes me feel like the Grim Reaper is watching me through the window because my time is near.

I never feel safe alone. But please don’t tell anyone that. Especially not Maxx.

Crawling into Maxx’s bed I pull her cover over me as I roll onto my side, the faint smell of chocolate is lingering on her pillow. This is where I hide. My safety. It’s not just her, but in everything that is her.

You wanna hear me say it? Fine. She makes me whole in ways that don’t make any goddamn sense to me. Maxx is one of the only things that stops me from taking a full beating in the ring as an attempted suicide. She’s one of the reasons I make myself open my goddamn eyes in the morning when the stress of the past feels like it’s suffocating me. I love her.  It’s a fact. And one that’s just between us. Don’t you fucking breathe a word to anyone.

My body curls into one of her pillows and I let my eyes close.

***

“Sleepy head,” a soft voice sings sweetly in my ear as I feel warm fingers stroke my face.

A bit drowsy, I manage to pull my eyes open to see a gorgeous face squatted down beside me.

Fuck, she looks like an angel.

“Maximus…”

“Yup.” Her response doesn’t stop her hand that’s touching me. “Hungry? Pizza just got here.”

I stare at her face that looks even more perfect without all that makeup shit caked on it. I can see the three moles that form a half circle right next to the side of her glasses. Her soft face, the creaminess of her perfectly shaded brown skin, the scar so faint by the top of her hairline, if I hadn’t known it existed I wouldn’t know to look. All this perfection wrapped up in a curvy 5’3 package.

And you wanna know what I love the most about her? It’s when she looks at me with those big gorgeous light brown eyes, she sees everything. The runaway, the thief, the fighter, the scared little boy I’m sure I’ll always be, the teen who once contemplated suicide to bail on a miserable existence, the wrecked human being who contributes back so little to the life that’s he’s given it’s pathetic. I love that she sees me. And I fucking hate it. I really fucking hate it.

“Did you order—”

“Of course I ordered hot wings. Plus I made sure to order the pizza with all the vegetables on it so we won’t have to listen to Luke bitch. You know how he feels about eating non-lean meats this month.”

We laugh together and I toss the blanket off my body, thankful that my rise and shine wood has had a moment to fade. I look her over and notice she’s already in a pair of white yoga shorts, ones that have to be new because I don’t recognize them, and a baggy ‘Book Nerds Unite’ t-shirt that still manages to paint a vivid shape of her boobs.

Perfect all natural Ds.

“You didn’t wear that on your date did you?”

“This?” She opens the door as I follow behind her stealing a glimpse of her perfect ass.

Damn. See through white shorts. Commando.

“Of course not. I changed when I got home. It’s a good thing you’re a heavy sleeper.”

She was naked in the room? Believe it or not I’ve never seen Maxx in anything less than her usual, Ring Side Girl outfits aside. Even when we go to the pool she wears a tank top over her swimwear embarrassed by her own curves. Erin always tries to talk her out of it and I’m glad it doesn’t work.

Even if I can’t be Mr. Right, I don’t want her parading around like Mrs. Slut. I’m a selfish bastard I know.

The two of us grab plates of food and park ourselves at the table with Erin and Luke. We munch until everything is gone and start up the first movie in the marathon. Since the ones on T.V. this weekend are such a disappointment we decide we’ll do a comedy set, all featuring the same actor. Jamie Foxx. The first one is Due Date during which Erin makes herself comfortable stretched out on the other side of the coffee table closest to the television with a pillow and her comforter while Luke has rotated the recliner to face the T.V. with an old knitted blanket covering just his feet. Maxx and I, of course, always share the couch. She is stretched out with her feet in my lap, my fingers softly stroking them.

About the time the second movie begins, Booty Call, a Jamie classic, Maxx sits up, stretches her body and sighs at me. “Will you grab us a blanket from your room?”

“Yeah.” And like a good little errand boy I retrieve one of my less used blankets that’s less likely to be stained with random girl’s perfumes.

Don’t say I’m not considerate.

My flopping back down is followed by Maxx leaning her back against my chest, her legs folded beside her, head slightly on my shoulder. Nothing surprising about it until her hand starts lightly stroking my thigh underneath the blanket. My cock wastes no time stiffening.
Really? She’s not even coming for you
. On that note her hand starts caressing my dick right over my shorts, back and forth. Slowly. A long exhale comes out of me as I shift on the couch unsure what to do.

Fuck! Talk about torture.

My eyes glance at Erin and Luke who are laughing at the movie completely unaware of the agony I’m in. She’s rubbing me in a mixed company room where I can’t do anything about it. I need to move her hand. I need to stop her. But I can’t. Or won’t. Feels good. Feels really good. Maxx uses a swift hand motion, slides my dick out of my pants, and wraps her warm hand around it continuing her stroking without missing a beat. I let my eyelids lower as I do my best to stifle a groan. Shit that feels good.

Maxx tilts her face up and whispers, “Shh…the movie is on.”

Is she fucking kidding me? She’s got her heated palm wrapped around my dick, stroking me with such perfect precision that I feel every movement could be the one that pushes me over the edge, and she has the nerve to tell me the movie is on? I don’t give a shit. The only thing I can think about is how to not come from this like some sex deprived teenager.

Her thumb swipes precum around my tip and my grip around her waist tightens. I grip so tight I might bruise her. Letting my eyes close, I lightly rest my head against her and get lost as she pumps me. Suddenly my dick that’s been begging for her touch for days threatens to betray me early. Too fucking early.

Through ragged breaths I manage to whisper in her ear, “If you don’t stop Maxx…I’m gonna come.”

Instead of slowing and removing her hand, she increases the speed and the pressure just the slightest. Just enough to do what it is my body is aching to do. Grinding my teeth hard together, I come in quick spurts hitting the top of the blanket and her fingertips.

Barely able to breathe I rub my face against the side of hers, whispering in her ear again, “Fuck…”

She smiles widely, pulls her hand from the blanket, a small amount of cum on her fingers. With my attention glued on her, she licks her fingers as if it’s frosting causing my jaw to drop open.

She stands up, moving around the back of the couch, and fakes a stretch and yawn before declaring, “You know guys I’m exhausted. I think I’m gonna hit the bed early.”

“Sleep tight,” Erin calls without looking over her shoulder.

“Night Maxx.” Luke waves her off not drawing his eyes away from the T.V.

Her hot breath is on my ear as she leans over the edge of the couch to whisper, “Night Logan.”

My eyes follow her as she saunters away like nothing just occurred, as if I’m not sitting on the couch stranded in my own mess.

What the fuck just happened? What the hell has gotten into her? Do you know? I mean, I’m getting that small piece of her I’ve always wanted with no strings attached. Well, at least no strings I can see. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I’ll have to untangle myself from those strings sooner rather than later, most likely causing damage that can’t be forgiven, but fuck. Right now, I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna enjoy Maxx…to the max. And you…you’re gonna keep it to yourself.

Chapter 13

Maxx

I swing my legs back and forth from the countertop beside Tony’s desk while he continues explaining to Erin why certain shots of the bartenders are better than others for promotional cuts. Shamelessly, I let my eyes roll over his relaxed look in his light jeans and light blue buttoned up shirt, the tiny stubble he missed when shaving, the way his lips are probably the most plump thing on his face. He’s so different from Logan. Where Logan is a fantasy, Tony is a reality. Logan the perfect piece of art, Tony the everyday drawing. Logan hard, unmovable in life while Tony’s, soft, malleable. Logan the erotic romance to read when the curtains are shut, and Tony the boy next door book the whole world loves. The kind of guy I should be with. Who has no problem admitting he wants to be with me. While Logan, whose mind I blew almost a week ago with a hand job, can’t even admit there’s something between us.

Hm. The more I think about it, the dumber I feel.

“Don’t you agree?” Tony asks for my input as the pen he was fiddling with touches his lips. Wonder how they feel. My head tilts to the side as I imagine him pushing them against mine.

Not as good as Logan’s but not bad. Not bad at all.

Seeing I’m still not focused, he leans forward and flirtatiously says, “If I didn’t know any better Maxx, I’d say kissing me was on your mind.”

Before I can respond, Erin clears her throat and gives me a scolding look.

Wait. She’s fussing at me? Wasn’t it her idea that I keep on dating Tony as a punishment to Logan? I’m just playing my role…or getting lost in it. It’s the only time in my entire life I’ve been offered two guys at the same time. Shouldn’t I have the right to enjoy myself?

There’s a sharp knock at the door and we turn our attention to an unknown male specimen who could easily be considered eye candy. He’s got dark brown hair, light green eyes, and a slim build to his male model looking face. His hands slide into his dark jeans, forcing his shoulder muscles to pop in his white t-shirt.

Is it required for all men who walk through the door of this place to look like something out of a romance book? Come on. You were wondering the same damn thing.

After drinking him in, Erin rudely snaps, “Can we help you?”

“Frank’s new bartender,” he announces, his voice is as smooth as he looks. “C.J.”

“What happened to Marsha?” Tony chimes in.

“She went back to the farm.” Erin’s remark causes me to press my lips together and shake my head.

I lean down and whisper in his ear, “They couldn’t get along. Marsha told Erin she would be less bitchy if she ate a cheeseburger.” He gives me a horrified look. I nod.

Marsha’s lucky that the most Erin did was get her fired. I’ve seen Erin damn near scratch someone’s eyes out for saying that her shoes were out of season. She’s often like the female version of Logan which is why they hate each other at times but vibe so well. It also explains why she would know the effects of playing this all his way better than anyone else.

Fighting the urge to be flustered, Erin folds her arms across her chest. “I…wasn’t aware he hired anyone new already.”

“Well he did.” His tongue licks his lips and I see Erin tilt her hip to lean against the counter.

Did you see that? Is she into him?

“Told me I needed to see his team for final approval.”

Speaking up before Erin can run him off, I say, “Well I’m Maxx Hughes, the Events Coordinator. This is Tony Reed, he’s in charge of web presence. And that,” I point to Erin who looks like she’s uncomfortable.

Which I don’t understand because nothing makes the girl uncomfortable.

“Is Erin Hart. She’s in charge of wardrobe mainly. Making sure everyone looks as sellable as possible.”

“Nice to meet you all.”

“Are you from up north?” Her fingers are now tapping the counter.

“I am.”

“You’ve got an accent.”

“Is that a problem?” He leans against the door frame unaffected by the slight snip in her tone.

“No problem,” I speak up, hopping down from the counter before she sets him on fire like some sort of demon with impressive powers.

Damn it. I knew the Supernatural marathon with Luke last night would result in these sorts of thoughts.

Politely I ask, “Why did he want you to come see us?”

“To see if you approved.” He nods his head at me. “Said to see the Events Coordinator. He wanted to know if you thought I could make the cut.”

“I assume Frank asked you all the standard interview questions.”

“He did.”

“I just need to know if you’re comfortable flirting with clientele while wearing enticing clothing.”

With an insanely bright crooked smile he says, “Sounds exciting.”

“I wanna see if he can handle himself behind the bar,” Erin snaps not even looking at me.

“Erin—”

“I’m just saying, Fight Night is not for the weak. It’s for the wicked. And while your bars up north may accommodate you having a slow wrist, if you try that shit on Fight Night not only will you cost us business, but you will be eaten alive by the crowd.”

Bitchy! Even for her.

Annoyed that she’s being so rude, I get ready to step in when C.J. leans his face towards her. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“Depends. Are you a pussy?”

“Erin!” Tony and I snap at her in unison.

A small chuckle leaves him and he looks over at me. “Demonstration?”

I shrug. Hell, why not? This interview, or lack of, is going way worse than I predicted. The four of us relocate up the stairs to the main floor where the bar is. Lifting up the side of it, he slips himself in, looking quite comfortable in the domain.

Before Erin has the chance to offer him something to make or advise him on what to do, he starts flipping out shot glasses and beer glasses, filling and flowing like some sort of Liquor God sent for us to worship. He fills them briskly, serving them up without so much as an extra breath.

“Bombs away,” he announces dropping the shots in.

We take the round, and I find myself wincing.

I’ve never done this before, but for some reason rather than just admit that, I find myself desperate to fit in. To be, well, a little more fun in the party sense. I can always instruct the fun, but having it like this is a little more difficult. Not too hard to believe huh?

After I finally finish the chugging, a burp creeps in my throat and Tony gives my back a rub.

“Nice job.”

I smirk. “Thanks.”

Erin runs her finger around the rim of her glass as C.J. leans both arms on the bar. “Time me.”

“You’ve got ninety seconds.” She slides her phone out of her pocket. “Maxx wants something fruity, Tony wants something frosty, and I want something with at least three liquors in it.”

“Should we be drinking Frank’s inventory?” Tony asks the question on my mind.

“It’s cool.” Erin brushes him off. “I’ll let him know we had a little to drink while working. He won’t complain. Now…go.”

Not real sure what planet C.J. came from but I bet the rivers are alcohol filled. That or you have to learn how to spin a shot glass by the time you’re four.

His effortlessness puts every movie bartender I’ve ever seen to shame. The twirls, the spins, the fluid motions, remind me of a painter with a magical paintbrush. Before the clock stops I’ve got something called a Flaming Orgasm, Tony has a premium beer looking picture perfect, and Erin’s got a Long Island Iced Tea with a splash of watermelon.

“Now,” C.J. says as he tosses the bar rag over his shoulder and leans down once more right in front of Erin who looks like she might try to wring his neck with it. “You wanna know my measurements or what?”

She glares as the timer goes off, and I merely lift my drink to clink against Tony’s who’s chuckling. This is going to be quite an interesting night.

And I know you’re thinking the same thing I am. They are perfect for each other.

***

Later than we could have predicted, Erin and I are headed home from hanging out with C.J. and Tony. She didn’t have another drink, but I had one more, putting me in a very obviously tipsy state.

The difference between the two of us when we’re tipsy? She gets flirtier and I get sassier. And a little horny. But sh…

“You know,” I sigh shutting her car door. “That was the first time Tony and I have hung out since our lunch date.”

She looks puzzled. “You see him almost every day.”

“Yeah. But we’re always working.”

“What are you guys working so hard on anyway?”

The front door opens and I trip over the step with a short giggle. “Oops. Anyway, the key is to stay one Fight Night ahead of the one we’re on, which is easy, but Frank has decided to host this fall tournament over three days at the end of September. So that’s like three Fight Nights all at once.”

“Really?” She sounds surprised. “Why didn’t I know about it?”

“He hasn’t made the official announcement yet but he has had us working hard on it. So there’s your heads up. Be. Prepared.”

Erin smiles softly. I assume she’s thinking about how much fun she’s going to have running her own version of Fashion Week.

Are you worried about what she’s gonna dress me in too? Hope I get to wear underwear.

“I also overheard Frank say that some recruiters would be looking to represent some new talent. I think Logan’s got a real shot.” His name on my lips leaves a tingle.

And now a little one between my legs.

“Did I hear my name?” His face pops over the banister as he leans forward gripping the upstairs railing.

Uncontrollably, a soft moan escapes my lips at the sight of him in just his jeans that are riding low and his boxers that are playing peek a boo. I moan again.

You can moan too.

Erin makes a grossed out face and rolls her eyes. “Is your name like a dog whistle to you?”

“Ignore her,” I call up to him, leaning against the edge of the couch. “She’s crabby.”

“I am not.”

“Why’s she crabby?”

“Didn’t I say I wasn’t crabby?”

“Because the new bartender ruffled her skirt.” My giggle is followed by her growling at me.

“You know, when you’re tipsy you’re a little irritating.”

“You’re tipsy?” Logan’s tone is now disapproving.

Screw him. He doesn’t get to judge.

“A little. I’m of age officer.” I pop a hand on my hip as he raises his eyebrows in shock.

“Why is she tipsy?” His disapproval shifts to Erin.

Seeing a chance to make someone else miserable, she slinks on a smirk. “We had a little fun after hours with Tony.”

His grip on the railing tightens, his muscles rippling like sex waves.

Did you see that too? Even angry he looks sexy. Yum. Did I really just say yum?

“Few drinks…few laughs…few touches.” She winks at me knowing the only thing that happened between Tony and I tonight was me sitting in his lap for a couple of minutes.

Though he did pop a hard on while I was there.

Once she believes success has been reached she sighs. “Well, I’m off to my room. Night Logan.”

“Night.”

“You gonna make it up the stairs?” She looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes.

Hateful.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m not
that
intoxicated.” I shoot her a grin and she exits to her room while I slowly ascend up the stairs, Logan’s heated stare still on me.

I’m talking hot enough to melt the sun.

When I reach the top, I take in a deep breath, the smell of his aftershave tempting me to reach out and touch him. To lick him. To grind against him.

Too horny. Sorry.

“Wanna come watch T.V. with me ‘til I fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” his face softens slightly.

I take off towards my room with him on my heels. Inside I know I need to change and love the idea of another chance at teasing him. Show him a little more of what he’s missing. Logan shuts the door behind him and I turn around stripping off my shirt immediately.

He barely manages to ask, “What are you doing?”

Leaning against my dresser, that’s propped up under the window, I stick my boobs out a bit, the low cut lacy black bra I’m wearing was the only one that was clean. This morning I was livid but now…it’s the best decision I’ve made. “Changing. Problem?”

His Adam’s apple bobs slowly as he wets his lips, his eyes glued on my chest, a visible hard on rising in his jeans. Clearing his throat, he tries to shake it off and flops on the edge of my bed. He reaches for the remote on my nightstand, his eyes now on the T.V.. “Nope.”

My body swivels around and I reach into my drawer for a baggy t-shirt. I slide it on and unhook my bra before sliding my jeans off leaving my thong on.

I never sleep in a thong. Not comfortable. I either sleep without underwear in my yoga shorts, or comfy boy short underwear, but like I said, I’m showing him what he’s missing.

He glances at me and asks, “You aren’t gonna…uh…wear underwear to bed?”

“I am,” I squeak, flopping on the bed beside him. “Tonight anyway.” My response causes him to roll his tongue across his lips.

God I want that in my mouth.

“It’s a thong.”

Something similar to a deep groan comes from him as he gets up and turns off the light before snuggling beside me in my bed. He hands me the remote so I can scan through the channels but I’m pretty sure it’s just so he can continue to drool over me.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

I shrug as I land on the cooking channel, something I won’t have to concentrate on, which is good because we’re gonna make out.

Whether or not he knows it, that’s what’s gonna happen. Some combination of the liquid bravery, sexual frustration, and realization that the chance for many more of these moments is small makes that decision easy. In case you were wondering.

“Yeah. I think Erin likes the new bartender.”

“Really?”

“You should see her around him. She’s a whole other level of bitchy. I think it’s because she doesn’t know what to do with herself when he’s around.”

A hum leaves Logan and I turn to see him lying on his side staring at me. His blue eyes seem to have a predatory look that gets my heart thumping hard. His hand slides across my stomach and there’s an immediate reaction between my legs.

He leans down and lets his lips feather across my jaw line. A sharp gasp escapes me and my eyes roll back.

Damn that’s good.

“Maxx…” his voice drifts, as do his lips. His tongue peeks out, taking soft licks at an unpredictable rate. The heat between my hips grows.

“Hm?” I manage to respond as his hand slips under my t-shirt. Another small gasp leaves me.

“Can I ask you something?” The words are hot on my ear, and the moisture from my pussy begins soaking my thong.

Lord have mercy. Sweet torment.

“Yeah…” My voice whispers in return, the feeling of his fingertips grazing the tops of my breast.

“Have you let Tony touch you here?” His question is followed with a gentle nip on my earlobe forcing a mewl out of me. Not being able to voice the answer I shake my head as his thumb slowly swipes my nipple. “What about here?” Another short cry comes out of me as he gives my nipple a small tug. His hand travels over to the other breast and repeats the action. My breath is short from my inability to recuperate.