Wicked Ride (16 page)

***

Logan gets out of his truck the
minute it turns off, stomping up to his trailer. I have half a mind
to get out and walk out of this little campground to hitch a ride
back to Jackson, but I’m
just as angry as he is and I want to have it out. I need to purge and
get it out.

I get out of his truck, slamming
the door behind me, and take in the little blue and white camper he
just disappeared into. It can’t
be more than fifteen feet long. Clearly, it’s old as it’s
sporting rust spots where the sides are riveted together and the
paint is flaking. The rest of his campsite is neat and tidy with a
picnic table, a fire pit that’s currently dead and cold, as
well as a canvas-folding chair sitting in front of the pit. I imagine
Logan out here, drinking a beer and pondering the flames in his
solitary life.

Walking up to the trailer, I hear
slamming around inside. I hesitantly enter, only to find him angrily
getting dinner ready. My brief scan of the interior shows it’s
sparsely decorated and minimalist in all other ways. To my right is a
tiny bathroom and I can see inside as the door is half-open. It’s
so small that it’s nothing more than a shower stall with a
toilet. To my immediate left is a small counter with a two-burner
stove. Opposite that, a refrigerator about half the size of a normal
one. Past that, at the rear of the camper, is a bed that runs
perpendicular. Twisted sheets and blankets tell me that Logan can be
a restless sleeper.

He opens the refrigerator, pulls
out a pack of hot dogs, and slams it shut. Throwing the hot dogs on a
counter unceremoniously, he reaches into a cabinet above the sink and
pulls out a pack of hot dog buns. He slams the cabinet shut just as
hard and I wince.

“Beating up your trailer
isn’t going to make you feel any better,” I say simply.

He shoots me a glare that clearly
says, Y
ou’re
not helping matters, Auralie.

Good. Because I don’t
want to help. I want to rail against the unfairness of it all. “You
know, Logan,” I say sarcastically. “You’re not the
only one who hates this situation.”

“Oh, really?” he asks
snidely as he turns on me. In a condescending voice, he says,
“Because it looks to me like you just want to sit back and let
Magnus shit all over you. You apparently don’t hate it that
much or you’d be working with me to try to figure a way out of
whatever fucked-up mess you got yourself into.”

“It’s not that
simple,” I yell at him in frustration.

He leans into me, gets right in
my face, and yells back. “It
is too that fucking simple. You tell me the problem, and I help you
make it go away. Then you don’t have to suck any dick but
mine.”

He pulls away and gives me a sly
smile. “That is…
unless you like it.”

I gasp and rear backward, knowing
he truly didn’t mean
that but still letting myself be hurt by his words even as I see
immediate contrition in his eyes. “You insufferable, pigheaded
lout. I have no clue what I ever saw in you.”

“Well, that says a lot,”
he says caustically. “Coming from someone who has their head
stuck up their ass.”

“You asshole,” I
seethe.

“Bitch,” he counters.

“Ooooohhhhh,” I
scream out in frustration, turning toward the spring-hinged door that
slammed shut behind me not two minutes ago. “I’m
leaving.”

“Like fuck you are,”
he snarls and leaps at me. With one hand on my upper arm, he spins me
and then jerks me to him so my body goes slamming into the hard,
muscled planes of his. My hands immediately go to his chest to push
away, but he slaps one big hand on my butt and the other to my upper
back, pulling me in tight until I’m pressed up against his
entire frame.

It is not lost on me he has an
erection the size of a rocket ship pressing into me, and I have no
doubt in my mind he’d
find me as wet as an oasis. Still, that’s beside the point, and
I try to wriggle out of his hold.

“Let me go,” I grit
out and consider kicking him in the nuts, but no… no way I
could harm those precious jewels.

He responds with a brutal kiss,
forcing my mouth open and shoving his tongue in deep. Mine
immediately meets his and twists against him. I turn my head, open my
mouth wider, and suck his kiss down like I’ll
starve to death without it.

Logan turns us, slams me back
into the refrigerator so he has some leverage, and grinds his cock
against me. A bag of potato chips falls down and glances off his
shoulder, and not once does he let up on the kiss.

I try again to shove him off me,
not because I really want him gone, but because now we seem to be in
some sort of hate-foreplay and it’s
actually quite thrilling.

Logan doesn’t
take kindly to me trying to push him away, so his hands go to my
upper arms and he spins me again, so fast I go dizzy. Pushing me down
the very short hallway past the sink and stove, to the mussed up bed,
he gives me a good shove toward it. My knees catch the mattress and I
go falling onto my butt. I try to bounce right back up, but he’s
on top of me, one arm under my ass where he lifts me up and throws me
further up the bed, my head actually grazing against the end wall.

He doesn’t
even apologize for his rough treatment, but leaps right back off me
and tears my sandals off my feet.

I gasp when he flips me over so
forcefully, the wind is knocked out of my lungs, but I wouldn’t
have been able to breathe anyway because he’s jerking the
zipper down the back of my dress. I become muddled with lust over his
brutally forceful ways.

Logan’s
breathing is harsh and I can feel energy, venom, frustration, and
passion pouring off him in waves. He pulls my dress past my
shoulders, reaching in front of me and sliding his hands between my
collarbone and the mattress to help jerk it down. It comes along
inches at a time, and he curses that it’s not coming off as
quick as he’d like. At one point, he pulls so hard to get it
past my hips that I hear the stitches ripping. That must excite him,
because he starts pulling at it harder.

And then my dress is gone and I’m
lying facedown on his bed with nothing on but some black lace
panties. I didn’t need a bra with the dress as it had a thick
lining so I could go without.

Logan’s
gone, and, for a moment, I wonder what he’s doing. I hear his
boots thud, hitting the floor, and I rise up a little to look over my
shoulder at him. He’s glaring down at me, his bare chest
heaving as he works at his jeans.

He snarls at me as he starts to
push his jeans and boxers down his long legs. “Lose
the panties or I’ll rip them off you.”

For some odd reason, my chest
actually swells with elation over the words, because what I truly
know is that yes…
he’s angry at the situation, but he also wants me so badly
right now, he’s on the verge of losing control.

That causes a gush of wetness to
soak my panties, and I have the temerity to say, “Guess
you’ll have to rip them off.”

He pauses for a brief moment, one
leg out of his jeans, the other almost completely out, and looks at
me with narrowed eyes. “Going
to fire that ass up.”

More wetness seeps out of me.

Logan kicks his pants off and
flies at me. I expect a palm to come crashing down on my ass, because
I very much like it when he spanks me, but he surprises me by
flipping me over instead, only to do exactly as he promised.

My panties are gone in a
nanosecond and flying over his shoulder where I see them land on one
of the stove burners.

God, I hope we don’t
burn the place down.

Logan practically slithers up my
body. I luxuriate in the feel of his coarse chest hair brushing along
my stomach and over my breasts. He gives me a swift, hard kiss that
causes our teeth to knock together, then he grabs my lower lip and
tugs on it to the point of pain before it pops free.

Looking down at me with burning
eyes, he says, “Going
to eat this pussy. Make you come really hard. Then I’m going to
ask you to tell me the truth. If you don’t, going to eat you
again. Make you come again. Going to wear your stubborn ass down
until you tell me what I need to know. In between, I might fuck your
mouth, but before this night is over, Auralie, I’m going to
know all there is.”

Oh, God.

Why did that threat just have to
sound like the best thing that will ever happen to me in my life? And
why does my heart flop over and then flutter madly because he cares
so much about me, that he’s
almost driven beyond reason to get to the bottom of my dilemma?

I try to push that away, merely
responding by cocking an eyebrow at him and spreading my legs a
little. Up until now, Logan had been holding the bottom part of his
body off me, but in response to my invitation, he lowers his pelvis.
I feel the hot, hard length of him press right over my pussy with the
tip of his cock resting just above my pelvis bone.

He grinds a little against me and
mutters, “God, I
want to fuck you so bad, baby. You just don’t know.”

My pussy absolutely floods over
his words, which are said in a low, sexy rumble.

Oh, yes, I do know.
He
has no clue how very close I am to just opening my legs…
spreading them a little further and letting him slide right in. But
the only reason I don’t is because I still possess enough
self-control that’s fueled by a burning desire for Logan not to
get sucked into this any further.

Because Logan has already laid
out what his nefarious plans are—interrogation tactics that
equate to something like waterboarding by orgasms—he moves back
down my body and puts his mouth where my money is.

And oh, Lord.

I’ll
never get used to how good that feels. The softness of his lips that
he will sometimes purse tight around my clit, or the rough way he
licks at it. Or when he’ll even flirt with sticking the tip of
his tongue inside of me, knowing that’s it’s not really a
breach of my “virginity,” but still be respectful of it
all the same.

“Yes,” I moan as he
works me feverishly, because he has something to prove. One of us is
breaking tonight.

My hands go to Logan’s
head, my fingers slipping in and then curling so I hold him tight. I
press him down onto me, something he loves because he gives an
appreciative growl, and I let him gorge himself on me.

Higher, and higher, and higher he
drives me.

He’s
brutal about it. Determined. A little vindictive in how fast he’s
getting me there. I have a feeling he’s not going to stop after
just one and ask me to tell him the truth. I think he’s going
to go in for an immediate second, and the knowledge of how important
this is to him… how important I have become to him… it
hits me straight in the middle of my core, causing my orgasm to
ripple and spread.

“Logan,” I cry out,
my hands gripping his head tighter.

He lifts his mouth just the
tiniest bit so I can understand him. Talking with his lips against my
wet flesh, he says, “That’s
it, baby. I want you to feel good. Does that feel good? Memorize that
feeling because I’m going to do it all over again.”

I gasp and moan, writhe against
him. He finally lifts up and surprises me by crawling back up my
body, once again lowering his cock to my sopping wet pussy, where he
just presses the length down over me and holds still.

His mouth comes to mine, and I
taste myself when he kisses me softly before looking into my eyes.
“Tell me how I can
fix this.”

I shake my head, barely coherent
to what he’s saying.
Because fuck… I still have little aftershocks of orgasm
running up my spine and my pussy is still involuntarily clenching…
begging for something more.

“Tell me,” Logan
demands again. This time, he does the unthinkable. He flexes his hips
so the length of his dick slides along my wetness, back and forth.

“Oh God, Logan, don’t,”
I beg him with a cry of surprised pleasure. My hips automatically
lift up for him to give me more.

“Come on, Auralie,”
he growls, his face hovering over my mine. “Quit fucking around
and tell me so we can set this shit straight.”

I start to shake my head, but
he’s having none of
it, intent on rattling and confusing me at every turn. His hips flex
again. This time, the length of his cock pushes through my swollen
lips, running right over my uber-sensitive clit.

My cry is strangled this time as
I undulate under him, almost every bit of sanity having left my mind.

“Christ, you’re wet,”
Logan says. He rears up off me, holding himself up with just one palm
braced flat on the mattress at my ribs. With his other hand, he
pushes my leg out, opening myself to him, and then he grabs his cock.

I watch in shock and wonder as he
brings the tip right to my opening and slowly rubs it through the
wetness there. In a strangled voice, he says, “Goddamn,
I want to fuck you so bad that it hurts.”

This bold statement is not new to
me, but the level of pain in his voice hits me deeply. I also can’t
seem to concentrate because the tip of his dick then comes to my
clit, circles, and then goes back to my slit where he starts to rub
it faster.

“Logan,” I whisper…
a simple plea to… what?

Stop?

Fuck me?

Logan lifts his beautiful face
and locks his eyes with me, still rubbing the tip of his cock all
over me, but mainly in between my wet, swollen lips. “Auralie…
you shouldn’t give your virginity to just anyone. It should be
given to someone special. Someone who cares about you.”

I can’t
think. He’s rubbing that beautiful big cock between my legs,
and I can’t think.

“You deserve special,”
he murmurs, his eyes dropping briefly to watch what he’s doing,
and then… oh damn… he thumps his cock a few times on my
clit before he brings it down and starts guiding it back through my
opening.