More Than Her Page 39


 She laughed. I just watched her, shaking my head. And I did the only thing I can think of to thank her. I kissed her.

 Her body melted into mine. She moaned, as the kissed got deeper. We took each other in, drowning in each other.

 "Oh God," she said into my mouth, pushing me down until we were lying down, her body on top of mine. She was straddling me, her hips jerking forward, her heat rubbing on my already hard dick. She's grinding harder and harder into me, and if she kept going, I wouldn’t be able to stop. My right hand went under her shorts, grabbing her ass and encouraging her to keep going. To keep moving. The other hand was in her hair, bringing her closer to me.

 God I wanted her.

 She pulled her mouth away and moved to my neck. She started to kiss me, but soon the kisses turned to licks, and then sucks. Hard sucks. My legs jerked at the attention she was giving me. Both my hands hold her ass, pulling her shorts lower and lower off her hips. She kept moving on me, her body taking up a rhythm.

 She sucked harder again.

 "Are you trying to mark me?" I asked, only half joking.

 "Yes," she said, the word muffled by my neck.

 "Seriously?"

 She laughed, "Yep."

 "What?" I chuckled, "Why?"

 "Because bitches need to know you're mine," she deadpanned.

 My dick twitched in response.

 I think she knew it too because she started kissing lower, down to chest. I honestly had no fucking idea why it was such a turn on—for her to claim me—but it is.

 She sat up and took her shirt off, her black lace bra barely containing her stiff nipples.

 "Fuck," I breathed out, before flipping us over until I was on top. I started to kiss the spot just above her bra; my hand went into her shorts.

 "Shit," she gasped, grabbing it before I reached where I so badly needed to touch. I looked up at her. Her eyes were half hooded, her chest rose and fell, her mouth slightly open, her ragged breaths caused her lips to tremble. I tried to release my hand from her grip so I could continue. "No, Logan, I have to go to work soon."

 I grunted.

 Grunted.

 My head fell to her stomach. "I'll be quick." I was desperate.

 She giggled. "Wow," she said sarcastically, "how can I resist when you say it like that, asshat."

 I laughed and moved off her, coming to a stand. I wasn't going any further if we couldn't go all the way.

 I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and pressed a few buttons while I watched her Expression turn to confusion.

 Then the familiar sound of a guitar filled the room, before John Mayer’s voice joined in.

 She threw her head back with laughter. I climbed onto the bed and crawled up next to her. She grabbed my face in her hands and raised her eyebrows. "Your body is a wonderland? Really?"

 "Uh-huh." I nod, turning my head to kiss her wrist. "You're totally about to get layooked," I joked.

 

 Amanda

 

 Stupid work. Stupid money. Stupid Customers. Stupid food. Stupid drinks. Stupid bar.

 I could be at home right now getting layooked by Logan Matthews.

 

 

TWENTY THREE

 


 Logan

 

 Ethan drove her to work. I offered but he said he was on his way there anyway. I left my room to get a drink when I saw Ty sitting on the sofa. I'd kind of forgotten that he was here.

 "Hey." I tried to make small talk. "When are you heading home?"

 "Tonight, actually. My buddy is picking me up in an hour or so."

 I nodded, and then just stood there awkwardly.

 "Actually," he pointed the controller to the TV and switched it off, "I'm glad you're here. I kind of wanted to talk to you, without Amanda, you know?"

 Fucking awesome. I looked forward to this conversation. "I don't think we need to talk about shit." I started walking away.

 "You need to quit being an asshole. It's about Amanda," he said. And it was enough to stop me in my tracks and turn to face him.

 "What about her?" My eyes narrowed at him.

 He motioned for me to sit opposite him. I tried to resist, just to be an asshole, and to show him that he has no control over what I did. But he just waited.

 And waited.

 So I finally gave in, and made a show of how inconvenient it was for me to sit my ass down on a chair. Because I'm eight years old, and this is clearly a form of punishment.

 He rolled his eyes at me.

 Valid.

 "So, she didn't tell you about me, huh?" He got comfortable.

 I shook my head. I didn’t know what the protocol should be for current whatever-the-hell-I-am to ex boyfriend conversation. It was awkward as fuck, and the fact that we were alone didn't help.

 "Did she tell you about what happened two summers ago?"

 Instantly my eyes snapped to his. I was paying full attention. I wasn't sure if this was about me, or if he even knew about that. But he had this look on his face, like he was ready for a fight. And I didn't want to have it. Not with him.

 "You know Dimmy and I, we dated for years." He said this looking straight at me.

 "Yeah?"

 "Yeah. We started dating six months before I went off to college. She was a sophomore. I mean, when I went after her, I really didn't know that anything would come of it, you know? I didn't expect that I'd be going through college still with her. The six months before I left were intense. We fell in love so quick. And it wasn't just that first love bullshit people speak of. It was that real love. The 'one day I'll marry you', kind of love."

 "Yeah?" I called bullshit on this asshole. Whatever he was trying to do here—this intimidation shit he was trying to pull—it wasn't going to work. At all. "If that's true then what the fuck happened?" I knew I sounded pissed, but I thought I had every right to be.

 "She broke up with me."

 "Huh." I tried not to sound like a smart ass. Really, I did.

 "Yeah." He nodded. His eyes narrowed at me. "See, the thing is—we talked about my move to college before I left. And we had this stupid agreement, that we could kind of see other people while I was away. I think she was scared that college would be too tempting for me. And the truth is—it was. At the beginning, anyway. I made out with a few girls, but it was all physical. None of it meant anything. And the minute it was over I called her. I fucked up. Made a mistake. And Dimmy—being Dimmy—she just shrugged it off. Said she understood, that it made her sad, but she agreed to it, so what could she do? That's the thing about Dimmy, she's just that fucking perfect."

 I shook my head and laughed once. "What are you trying to say? That you want her back? You want to have it out to see who she wants? Is that it?"

 "No asshole. Not even close."

 "Then what? What's your problem?"

 "My problem is that she called me that summer." He was the one pissed now, speaking through clenched teeth. "Five o'clock in the fucking morning, to break up with me. Said she'd just gotten home from an actual date with some jerk. She said she could see herself being happy with him. That this guy made her feel things she never felt before—not even with me. It broke my fucking heart. But what could I do? We were states away. And she sounded happy. If she wanted to be happy with some other asshole then who the fuck was I to stand in her way?"

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