Page 11 of The Summer Fling
With another growl, Logan starts moving, slow at first, then faster, harder. I give as much as I'm getting and meet every thrust with my own hips, the slap of skin against skin mixing with our moans.
His hand finds my breast again, squeezing and kneading.
"You take me so well, Hannah."
"Logan, deeper. Go deeper."
"Fuck. You're killing me like this."
When I come the second time, it's with my nails raking down his back, legs locked around his waist, his name ripped from my throat in one long, broken cry. He follows right after, groaning deep in his chest, hips stuttering as he pulses inside me.
We collapse together on the towel, his arm heavy and warm around me, my head pillowed on his chest where his heart still races. The stars blaze overhead, impossibly bright.
After a few minutes, Logan tilts my chin up and kisses me softly—a contrast to the heat of everything that came before. "I'll properly introduce the island to you tomorrow."
"I can't wait."
Logan smiles and claims my mouth again, and I forget what we were just talking about.
3
LOGAN
Iwake up with sand in places sand shouldn't be and the taste of Hannah still on my tongue.
My cock stirs under the sheets, already half-hard just thinking about her pussy.
Fuck.
I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, but even the cold water can't wash away the vivid replay of last night. I need coffee and distance from my own thoughts before I do something stupid like show up at her rental with flowers and a marriage proposal.
Twenty minutes later, I'm walking intoShore Thing, keys jangling, expecting the usual morning quiet. Instead, Eli's already behind the bar, grinning and polishing glasses.
"Well, well, well." He doesn't even look up from the glass. "If it isn't Romeo himself."
"Morning to you, too."
"Oh, it's definitely a good morning. You're practically glowing, man."
I grab the coffee pot and pour myself a cup, ignoring him completely. "Don't you have inventory to do?"
"Already done. Had to get here early since somebody was too busy getting laid to help with closing last night." He leans against the bar. "Speaking of which, how was the beach? Sandy? Uncomfortable? Worth the inevitable rash you're going to get in uncomfortable places?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't. That's why you've got that post-orgasm swagger, and you keep touching your mouth as if you can still taste her."
I wasn't touching my mouth. Was I touching my mouth?
"You're imagining things."
"Am I? Because you're standing there looking like you just conquered Mount Everest. Either you finally grew a pair and made a move, or you discovered masturbation, and frankly, I don't think you're that good with your own hands."
"Jesus Christ, Eli. You're fired."
"What? I'm happy for you! It's about time you got some action. This one's different. I could tell from the way she almost snorted that Shirley Temple. Quality woman right there."
Despite myself, I smile. "She laughed at your jokes, asshole. That should tell you something about her judgment."
