He tugged his cock out of her mouth briefly and she cried out in frustration.
“How many fingers are you using?”
“Two,” she gasped.
He shook his head almost angrily. “Not enough. Four. Shove four in there.” He punctuated his command with a rough return, his cock trying to slide all the way in. She panicked for a moment before her throat opened and he slid deeper.
“Fuck,” he murmured.
Lacy added two more fingers to her pussy, curling them to find that special place that never failed to set her off.
Stars exploded as she came. Logan was mere seconds behind her.
One moment he was pounding into her mouth, the next he was jerking roughly as he came, jets of hot come splashing against the back of her throat.
She swallowed several times, but didn’t seek to pull away. Even as his cock softened in her mouth, she held him there.
Wanted him there.
She was his. Completely.
But more than that, he was hers. And she was never going to let him go.
Off-limits or not.
Eleven years earlier…
* * *
Logan tilted his head, confused when Lacy opened the door, wearing a tatty old t-shirt and jeans. “What are you doing here? Thought you were going to prom tonight.”
She shrugged casually, though her painted-on smile looked fake. “My date got chicken pox.”
“Oh man. I’m sorry.”
She stepped aside so he could come inside. “It’s okay. It’s not like he did it on purpose.” She paused for a second, and then looked at him, concerned. “You don’t think he got them on purpose, do you?”
Logan chuckled. “I’m one hundred percent sure Tommy didn’t get chicken pox just to get out of going to prom.”
“Yeah. I guess not.”
“You could always go stag,” he suggested.
She looked at him like he’d sprung a second head. “That’s social suicide. No thanks.”
Logan figured she was probably right. He’d been out of high school for too many years to remember all the silly rules.
Lacy’s mom, Beverly, walked into the room before he could devise a way to cheer her up.
“There you are, Logan. I just finished wrapping the tray of cookies for you. Lacy, will you go grab it for me?”
Lacy nodded and headed for the kitchen.
“Tough break on prom,” Logan said when Beverly’s gaze followed her daughter’s retreating form.
“I absolutely hate this. You know Lacy. She smiles and pretends it’s okay, but she’s devastated. She worked every single day after school in the bakery with me for six months, saving the money for that dress.”
Beverly quickly dashed a tear. Logan couldn’t stand the thought of Evan’s mom and sister upset. They were two of the sweetest women he knew. “Mrs. Sparks. What if Lacy comes to the barn dance with me tonight? Evan’s heading over there in a couple hours, once his shift ends. Tyson and I will keep an eye on her until then.”