Chapter 13

MAGGIE

~FIVE YEARS AGO~

Logan leaves early in the morning to go to work, and I don’t fail to notice that one of his employees accompanies him.

I’m not happy about it. She’s everything I wanted to be, i.e., a mature adult. She has a hyena laugh and tries too hard to impress him.

I vaguely hear her say that they should grab breakfast together. I clench the curtain corners in my fist when I see them leave in her car.

That’s the first sign of jealousy. I’ve felt jealous before, but it’s so much worse to see it happen in front of my eyes, and the fact that I’m growing up slowly, and he’s growing older faster bothers me.

He texts me in the afternoon, asking me what he should bring over for dinner, and I respond vaguely saying, “Anything is fine.”

While I’m at home, I have unwanted thoughts entering my mind about Logan and the woman sharing a quickie in his perfect little office. They could have an affair. I almost break my phone in anger.

This jealousy is unreasonable, and I’m aware of that, yet I can’t seem to stop it.

There is some problem with the showers in the bedroom I’m using, so I decide to take my things to Logan’s room.

I disrobe and walk into his shower. It has huge showerheads from all four sides, completely high-tech, with a spectacular view. Glass walls from bottom to top.

No one can see from the outside, but I have a clear view from the inside. The water is cold at first and quickly gets warmer.

I take a few pumps of the shampoo and massage it into my scalp. I’m feeling so comfortable with the shower that I don’t feel like getting out.

When I close my eyes, I have an image of Logan in my head.

His large body hovering over mine. Logan manhandling me. Those stormy blue eyes filled with desire just for me.

He has very big and rough hands, unlike the guys from my high school. I feel warm all of a sudden, and I feel molten liquid gather between my thighs.

I grab my left breast and squeeze it, thinking about Logan doing it to me. I flick my nipple until it turns into a hardened pebble. I keep doing it until I’m moaning in the shower.

My hand slowly moves to my abdomen and then to touch my core.

I’m soaking wet. The sticky liquid coats my fingers, and I’m swollen down there.

I lean back against the wall and start massaging my pussy, moving my fingers slowly in and out of me imagining Logan’s fingers doing it. I detach the shower head and use the pressure of the water to pleasure myself.

“Logan…” I let out a strained moan.

There’s no one in the house, so I can be as loud as I can. Logan won’t be here until evening.

I’m so close. My heartbeat accelerates as I increase the speed, moving my fingers in and out of my slick pussy, going deeper. “Oh my god, Logan…please…fuck me. Ah…Logan…”

Suddenly, the door opens.

My heart stops.

It’s Logan.

He’s standing at the door looking at me. His eyes meet mine. They are wide.

He’s shocked and embarrassed, and there’s some other emotion in there. He rushes out and slams the door. I even hear the door of his bedroom slam shut.

I’m completely flushed. I can feel my cheeks rising with color. I press my forehead into the tile wall.

That was a disaster right there. I want to die. I want the ground to open and eat me up.

Why was he home so early?

After I’m done with the shower, I walk out of his bedroom and quickly get dressed before meeting him downstairs.

I’m going to pretend nothing happened. That’s all I can do.

He has a grim look on his face like he didn’t just see me naked and enjoying finger-fucking myself, but saw some hideous, three-headed creature in his shower. It’s not exactly the reaction I’m looking for.

Did I expect Logan to strip and wait on his bed for me? Or maybe join me in the shower and say stuff like, “Let me finish that for you, baby?”

In my fantasy, he sure does that, but in reality, he’s pissed as hell.

“Why didn’t you lock the door?” he snaps in that authoritative tone.

“I…I thought you wouldn’t be here until later tonight.”

“I literally texted you asking what you want to eat.”

“But Logan, I—”

“Why the hell were you taking a shower in my bathroom when you have one in yours too!”

“The showers in my room aren’t working properly, plus yours is bigger and has a nicer view.”

He closes his eyes as if he’s had enough, but I really don’t understand what the big deal is, so I say it, “What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’ve never seen a woman naked, right?”

I’m playing it cool, but inside I’m dying a slow death. The last thing I need is for things to be awkward between us.

When I was younger, he used to take me to the pool downstairs, which I might add was when I was five and wore a bathing suit. I guess that counts, too?

He puts a box of tacos in front of me. “Eat and go to your room.”

I gape at him as he picks up his box and starts making his way upstairs.

“What’s wrong?”

He’s already halfway upstairs when he stops and looks down at me. “Everything.”

***

I hate it when we fight. It’s the worst, and yet I don’t know how I can make him feel better.

I know he feels guilty because I’m growing up, and he saw me taking a shower and pleasuring myself, but that doesn’t mean he can make me feel shitty about it.

I watch some TV for a while. I re-binge ~The Witcher~, and I can’t help but feel like Logan looks like Henry Cavill, but with blue eyes instead of gray.

He’s super hot. The girls in my school say so too. Sometimes people mistake him on the streets for the actor.

I go upstairs to his study and knock.

“Come in.” He’s sitting behind a desk working on his laptop.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He sighs. “Come here, Maggie.”

I sit down on the arm of the chair.

“Things are different now. Do you understand? You can’t just shower with your door unlocked,” he says and then looks away.

“But it’s okay.”

“Why would it be okay?”

“Because I like you!”

He stares at me, and I think he’s at a loss for words. He leans back against his chair and looks at the ceiling.

“If there was some other man instead of me, he would have taken advantage of the situation. You need to understand what is right and what’s wrong, okay?”

He’s still treating me like a baby. It’s unbelievable.

“If it was someone else, it wouldn’t have happened, but since it’s you, it’s okay.” I don’t know why I’m so daring today. Maybe because I think there’s a very tiny chance that he could agree to us being together.

It’s a crazy thought, but I want this to be possible. We’ve known each other for so long, it’s easy to talk to him, unlike the boys at my high school.

He gives that huge sigh again and nods. “Okay, I understand.”

I lean toward him. “You don’t need to beat yourself up over it.” He’s so huge, I probably look like a doll.

I’m still horny from not finishing in the shower this afternoon, and his perfume isn’t helping one bit.

He smiles, but it’s strained. “Do me a favor and keep your bathroom door locked next time you take a shower.”

“I won’t forget. I promise.”

“Great.” He turns his attention back to the screen, but I’m leaning against his arm. Did he hear me moaning his name? I’m hoping he didn’t.

“Where’s the house staff? I didn’t see them around.”

“I live alone here, Mags, and don’t have time to cook. A cleaning lady comes every alternate day to clean the rooms.”

“So, it’s just the two of us,” I tease him.

“Why?”

“Do you love me?”

He groans. “Of course I do.”

We repeated these words in the past all the time.

~Do you love me, Logan? Of course, I love you, princess.~

“Why won’t you look at me when you say it?”

He turns to look at me. “I love you, Maggie.”

I smile, laughing happily. There are tons of butterflies in my stomach.

“I love you too.”

I think he puts up with me because he feels pity for me, for the girl whose dad isn’t around, and tries to make up for the guilt by spoiling me, and I’m taking advantage of that attention.

“Can you kiss me?”

“No,” he answers before I can even get the question out of my mouth.

“Logan, please.”

“Go to bed.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” I beg him.

“Maggie, go to fucking bed.” He’s seething now as he uncurls my fingers from his shirt and gives me a gentle push. It’s not harsh though, just firm.

I stomp toward the door. “Fine! Don’t do it then. I have tons of guys at my school who’re dying to date me.”

“Don’t be reckless.”

“I just want to experience my first kiss!” I say. “And I want it to be with you, the boy I like.”

“I’m not a boy, Mags. I’m a man and a man has different needs.” He holds my gaze for a minute for emphasis.

He’s trying to scare me, and it’s not working. I don’t think I’ll ever be this comfortable with someone else.

Heat rises to my neck. “I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t expect me to say that, because then he says, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, I do. I’ve watched porn.”

He laughs and looks at me like I’m an adorable teddy bear on his shelf. “I’m not talking about porn with you.”

“If you’re forgetting, I’m already eighteen, and that makes me legal.”

He laughs again. “Sure, honey.”

“Do you even look at me as a woman?”

“I told you earlier that you are a very beautiful woman, didn’t I? I say what I mean.”

“So why won’t you kiss me?”

“Will I be an eighteen-year-old inexperienced girl’s first experiment? No,” he says curtly. “It’s way past your bedtime. Good night, Mags, and close the door on your way out.”