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was a different kind of release. And I wanted it, I
needed
it, and as Logan's thrusts became erratic, out of rhythm, I knew he was close.
So was I. I was so close.
And when he bucked and pounded me, he screamed
into my neck, and I could feel him pulsing inside me. His long cock surged, spilling into the condom, and it was all I needed. He'd claimed me, taken me and made me his. And my release filled my chest and warmed my blood. It wasn't a physical release, but an emotional one.
And when Logan rolled me over, he was shocked to
find more tears. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, alarmed.
"No." I shook my head and smiled through my tears. "No, it was just what I needed," I told him. I leaned up and kissed his lips. "You are just what I needed."
His smile died quickly. "I never made you come."
I kissed him again. "I didn't need to. It was more than that. Next time you will." He looked at me with questioning out-of-focus eyes. I chuckled at him and kissed his eyelids, his nose, his lips. "Logan, now you know I am yours," I told him.
He smiled beautifully and snuggled into my neck.
"Yes. Like I am yours."
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I knocked on Logan's door and grinned as soon as
he opened it. He was on his phone, listening to whoever was on the other end babble on. I kissed him soundly as I walked in, making him grin. "Yes, Beth," he said, rolling his eyes, "that'll be fine. See you soon."
Ah, Beth. Logan's sister. We'd made a civil kind of truce. One that involved Logan telling her I was in his life and she could damn well get over it. Then he added that she should apologize for being rude to me and take some damn time to get to know me
Because he's wonderful
, he'd said.
He'd told her I was wonderful. It still made me
smile.
So she made an effort, and so did I. She really
wasn't too bad, and over the last few months, she'd grown on me. She even admitted she liked Logan having someone else to look after him.
I didn't bother correcting her. I didn't bother telling her it was he who looked after me. She was just starting to like me. I didn't want to ruin it.
I'd even met his parents. They lived about an hour
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away, and were more English than the queen of England.
I'd been so nervous, but it was unfounded. They were lovely and welcoming, very much like their son.
Logan closed his phone and kissed me properly. His soft, pink lips were warm and sweet. "Beth just wanted to know if she should bring anything over."
I smiled. "I told Tim to bring some popcorn and whatever he wanted to drink."
Logan grinned. "Is he still freaking out about tonight?"
I laughed and nodded. "But I told him if you had to sit through a night of ice hockey last Saturday night, he could suck it up for a night of
Dr. Who
."
Logan chuckled. It wasn't the first time we'd had
video nights where Tim, Saul, and I had gotten together with Logan, Beth, and her husband, Michael.
Needless to say, Marty was no longer in our lives.
He'd tried to apologize, many times. But I was having none of it. I wanted nothing to do with him.
Last time we'd all met, it had been Tim's choice for entertainment, and he'd demanded a night game of ice hockey be involved that Saturday. Logan had been
horrified but sat through it with his eyes squinted shut most of the night and promised next time he'd pay him back with a night of
Dr. Who
.
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And that's exactly what we were doing.
Logan started fussing in the kitchen, saying Beth
and Michael would arrive in about thirty minutes, and we'd better get organized. I smiled as I watched him busy himself with dishes and snacks, dressed in his tight jeans, black turtleneck sweater, and black-rimmed glasses.
I was in love with this man, this unlikely, totally geeky, fucking beautiful man. I'd been working on my ability, or lack thereof, to speak from the heart, and Logan had played a huge part in that. The man had the patience of a saint.
He also had the amazing ability to both anchor me
and set me flying at the same time. He said I did the same for him, and I told him I didn't see how that was possible.
He'd just grinned and shook his head and told me one day I'd see just what he meant. He said he didn't mind how long it took—one year or twenty—he'd be there to show me.
And I didn't doubt him.
I smiled at him. "Hey, babe?"
He looked up from his chopping board. "Yeah."
"I got you something."
"You did?"
I nodded and showed him the small, white paper
bag.
"What is it?"
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"Open it and find out."
He took the bag, grinning excitedly, and looked
inside. His eyes shot to mine, and I smiled at him as he pulled out the gift. It was a key ring with a small, three-dimensional TARDIS hanging off the ring. And attached to it was a single silver key.
"I found the little TARDIS key ring the other day,"
I told him. "But I had the key to my place cut this morning."
His eyes went wide, and he looked from the key
ring in his hand to me. "Brent…"
"I want you to have a key to my place. I asked Tim if he'd mind, and he was surprised you didn't have one already."
Logan shook his head. "Oh…" He sighed. "This is… perfect."
"What? Me? Or the TARDIS key ring?"
Logan smiled and rolled his eyes. "The key ring, of course."
My mouth fell open indignantly, playfully. "Do you only love me for the
Dr. Who
stuff I buy you? " I looked over to the TARDIS cookie jar and the Dalek teapot.
He laughed, took my chin between his forefinger
and thumb, and kissed me with smiling lips. "I love you, Brent Kelly."
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"Just as well," I told him, trying not to grin.
"Because I could take the key ring back to the store and get my five bucks back."
Logan laughed. "I hope you kept the receipt."
I grinned at him then. "Of course."
He chuckled at me and went back to the chopping
board.
I watched him for a moment. "Logan?"
"Yes?"
"I love you, too."
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Who am I?
Good question…
I am many things—a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer.
I have pretty, pretty boys who live in my head, who don't let me sleep at night unless I give them life with words.
I like it when they do dirty, dirty things… but I like it even more when they fall in love.
I used to think having people in my head talking to me was weird until one day I happened across other writers who told me it was normal.
I've been writing ever since…
Website:
http://nrwalker.blogspot.com.au
Facebook:
N.r. Walker
Twitter:
@NR_Walker
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