This is just… sex.
Yvette accepts my offer and takes my hand. I pull her towards me. She straddles my legs without being told. Because she knows it too. She feels it.
This encounter has no meaning at all.
It’s just sex.
I frown. And Logan says, “What?”
Logan has positioned himself behind Yvette. Her long, wet hair sticks to her breasts, winding down and over her nipples. He wraps his fingers around it from behind and pulls it into a ponytail before arranging it down her back. I look up at him and have no explanation for the expression he’s reading on my face.
So I just shrug and say, “Nothin’.”
Does he accept my answer?
Yeah. He does. Because even though we were close once, it was a while back now. We were pretty tight then but now… all the connections are still there, but they’re loose. Some of them lost, maybe.
I look at Yvette, trying to figure her out. But she’s got a blank face. There’s nothing to see there. Nothing to read.
Logan massages her shoulders, his long fingers and strong thumbs kneading the tight muscles to either side of her neck. Yvette closes her eyes and smiles.
But it’s not a smile of, Thank you. I appreciate you. I really need this today.
It’s a smile of, I know what comes next.
So do I.
Logan’s hands slowly begin to explore, dipping down to the top of her breasts, then back up to her shoulders. He does this several times before he actually cups both breasts and begins to massage them instead.
It’s a classic move every guy learns to do. Would you like a massage? Let me take that tension away. Oh, did I just grab your tits? Did I just take my shoulder massage down to your pussy?
Classic, no-brainer move.
And even though Yvette—and pretty much every other woman on the receiving end of one of those let-me-help-you-with-that-tension-ma’am massages—appreciates it, and thinks it feels good, it doesn’t change anything.
It’s just sex.
“AJ,” Logan says. “What is your problem?”
This breaks the spell still-half-drunk Yvette is under and she opens her eyes.
Now I have two people looking at me for an explanation. Because I’m thinking when I shouldn’t be.
“Nothin’,” I say. “I’m fucking great, actually.”
I throw out one of my charming smiles. The kind people expect from me now. The kind that says, Sure, I’m a six-foot-three meaty monster of a man and I can kill you seventeen different ways—none of which have anything to do with the gun in my hand pointed at your head—but don’t worry. I have this good-natured personality and smirky smile to put you at ease.
“AJ,” Logan says, kinda laughing. “What the fuck are you thinking about?”
“More sex,” I say. “With you two.” Because that’s the correct answer. And it’s stupid, anyway. To think about this shit when nothing will ever come out the other end.
So I place my hands on Yvette’s hips and lift her up a little.
My cock is hard again. Even though my mind isn’t. So she understands what I’m asking and obliges me by sitting up, reaching between her legs to grab me, and placing me at the entrance to her pussy.
This pacifies Logan, because he’s grinning down at me like, OK, yeah. You’re normal again. He steps to the side of Yvette’s head just as she sinks down onto my cock with a moan. His also-hard cock aimed right for the invitation her open mouth implies.
Her hand goes to my shoulder to steady herself, while the other one takes his cock and guides him forward until her lips seal around the tip of Logan’s dick.
Logan grips her head, bunching her hair up in his fist, and pushes her into it a little further.
I watch as his shaft begins to disappear inside her throat.
It’s slow, at least. Maybe even a little bit careful. And this makes me relax against the cold, tiled wall.
I sigh. Because being inside her feels good. And watching her devour Logan’s cock feels erotic. So I let go of all that stupid connection bullshit. Let go of my desire for small talk and just… enjoy it while it lasts.
Tomorrow this storm will be over, the roads will be clear, and Yvette Nightingale’s body will be wrapped in a tarp at the bottom of a ravine. Waiting to be found when some hiker happens upon it in some future spring.
Chapter Eleven – YVETTE
I don’t really understand how this day went from how I planned it to mind-blowing sex with two strangers… but I’m not sure it matters.
It feels good.
They feel good.
And I deserve this night with them.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
I deserve this. I earned it.
But I didn’t earn anything. My life is a series of bad choices and unfortunate circumstances. It’s just luck, I guess.
Whatever it is, I like it. Feels good. So I erase all the stupid thoughts in my head about how I’m now behind schedule and just live a little.