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See, I live in a house with very thin walls, which means I can hear every breathy moan that leaves Hannah’s mouth. Every gasp and sigh. Every thump of the headboard smacking the wall as someone else screws the girl I can’t stop thinking about.
This is so awk for Han and Garret i CONNOT deal lol
“So it’s Thursday. Five girls in four days. Do the fucking math, John.” Oh shit. He first-named me. Tucker only calls me John when I’ve really pissed him off. Except now he’s pissed me off, so I first-name him right back. “What’s wrong with that, John?”
You could sleep with a hundred women tonight and it still wouldn’t make a difference. You need to accept that it’s not going to happen with Hannah,
I started my freshman year of college as a virgin. I’m beginning to think I’ll be ending it as one, too.
My free-spirit mother is the polar opposite of my stuffy, strict father, but I guess that just proves that the whole opposites-attract theory has some merit.
I’m not going to lie—Logan’s interview was the only one I paid any attention to. Because the guy is smoking hot.
Grinning, I swipe the phone screen and pull up the keypad. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’m just using your phone. I’m not going to murder you.”
As elevator music chirps in my ear, I smother a groan. “You’re on hold, huh?” “Yup.” I glance over at her again. “I’m Logan, by the way. Thanks for letting me use your phone.” “No problem.” She pauses. “I’m Grace.”
Seriously, what guy turns down Die Hard? The only thing that could sweeten this deal is if you offered me some booze.” “I don’t have any.” She stops to think. “But I’ve got a whole bag of gummy bears hidden in my desk drawer.” “Marry me,” I say instantly.
Oh God. He’s checking out my boobs. And even though I’m only rocking a B-cup, the way his expression smolders, you’d think I had a porn star rack. When he realizes I’ve caught him staring, he just winks and turns back to the screen.
I give myself a mental pat on the back. I just had an entire conversation with a cute guy without babbling incoherently. I deserve a frickin’ gold star for that.
And the sexy curve of his lips is…pure temptation. I want to kiss him so badly I can’t think straight.
This time there’s no mistaking the interest in his eyes. Should I make a move? I should make a move, right?
he slides closer and touches my cheek, and my vocal cords freeze as my heart rate skyrockets. John Logan is touching my cheek.
“Well, you were looking at me like you wanted me to kiss you.” His blue eyes become heavy-lidded. “So I was thinking I might do that.”
smile curves his lips. Lips that are getting closer and closer to my lips. Inches away. Millimeters away. And then his mouth brushes mine, and holy shit, I’m kissing John Logan.
When his tongue finally slides inside my mouth, he lets out a raspy groan that vibrates through me and settles in my core. Kissing Logan is the single most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Fuck, hold on.” He shifts on the mattress, and my heart stops when he unzips his pants. He eases them down just low enough to free his erection from his boxers, then tugs on the waistbands of my PJs and underwear.
Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sexier than the sight of John Logan right after he’s had an orgasm.
Seriously? He can’t even stick around for a few minutes of post-hook-up small talk? What a prince.
My brother and I agreed a long time ago to keep the truth from Mom. She doesn’t need to know that Dad is drinking again, and I refuse to dredge up that old bullshit for her. She got out, and she needs to stay out. She deserves to be happy now,
Not only did she not come, but my company didn’t do it for her, either?
I’m sure there are lots of teams that would want me to play for them. I’m sure one of them would’ve even drafted me—if I’d entered the draft.
He’s wearing his trademark brown blazer and starched khaki pants, an outfit my mom refers to as his “serious professor” look.
I hope she gets free tuition for her dad being a professor
“Are you sure you’re okay that we’re not having dinner on your actual birthday? If you want to celebrate on Wednesday night, I can cancel office hours.” “Friday is fine,” I assure him.
I hope she runs into logan on Wednesday
“This is priceless. Big stud on campus couldn’t make a girl come. You’ve officially given me enough ammo to rag on you for years.”
I’ve been thinking non-stop about how I didn’t make you come last time.” I shrug. “And how badly I want to change that.”
“It takes ten minutes to get to the library from here. Which means I have twenty minutes.” My smile becomes downright devilish. “If I can’t make you come in twenty minutes, then I’m definitely doing something wrong.”
Fuck, I love going down on a girl.
A man!!
For one hundred and eighty minutes, all I did was run through every incredible second of every incredible thing Logan did to me this morning.
The one time I invited a few girls from my English Lit class to come over, Ramona laughed and chatted with them all night, told them what a fabulous time she had, and then, after they left, informed me they were boring and that I wasn’t allowed to bring them over when she was around.
Ramona = red flag
How long does an erection have to last before it’s considered bad news? Three hours? Four? No way this movie is that long, right? God, I fucking hope not.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much would you care if you missed a few minutes of the movie?” I think it over. “Two?” “Thank God.”
“Where are we going?” I whisper. All I get in response is a mischievous smile. He leads me down the dark corridor toward the auditorium doors, but rather than go through them, he veers left and turns the knob of a door I hadn’t even realized was there. We’re in a closet. It’s pitch black and reeks of cleaning supplies, but suddenly Logan’s body presses up against me, and all I can smell is him.
“I wish I could fuck you right here.”
If someone told me a week ago that John Logan would be dry humping me in a movie theater closet, I would’ve laughed my fool head off. But here we are, and it’s frickin’ amazing.
I see him reach for a stack of paper napkins on a nearby shelf. His hand dips inside his pants before crumpling the napkin and tossing it in the wastebasket by the door.
Omg he came in his pants
Piper is the puck bunny of all puck bunnies.
Piper’s little sister is friends with Grace, and I guess Grace told her about the two of you hooking up? Except for some reason, the little sister thinks she’s making it up?”
My brain knows that I shouldn’t care about some asinine Twitter bash fest, but my stomach hasn’t received the memo. Every time the words #GracelessLiar flash in my head, my insides twist into a mortified pretzel.
Ramona looks like she’s fighting a smile as she peers past my shoulders in the direction of the door. Frowning, I shift in my chair, turn my head—and find Logan standing there. “Hey,” he says easily.
Our gazes lock for one heart-stopping moment, and then he does the absolute last thing I expect. He leans down and kisses me. On the mouth. With tongue. Right there in the dining hall.
Logan flashes me that crooked grin I love so much. “Are you ready to go, gorgeous?” We didn’t have plans. He knows that and I know that, but I’m not about to let anyone else know it. So I play along by answering, “Yep.” I start to get up.
“Don’t worry, you didn’t strike me as the type to B&B.” I offer a blank stare. “Bed and breakfast?” He snickers. “No. Bag and brag.”
“Seriously, Grace, don’t stress. You know what they say—haters be hating, and bitches be bitching.”
“Come on,” he coaxes. “You can climb up first. I’ll stand down here the whole time and catch you if you fall. Scout’s honor.” “Fall?” I screech. “I wasn’t even thinking about falling. Oh my God, what if I fall?”
He flexes both arms as if he’s a bodybuilder who just won the crown. “Look at these guns, gorgeous. You really think I can’t catch all ninety pounds of you?”
Im sorry but cringe
I’m attracted to Logan, yes, and if we end up having sex tonight, great. If we don’t, that’s fine, too.
You don’t want to be just another chick he bats those baby-blues at and screws silly. You want to be confident and sexy and take control. Show him he’s met his match.”
don’t get a chance to voice any words. My mouth is open, because Grace yanks me into her dark bedroom and kisses me, and if my mouth was closed, then how is her tongue supposed to get inside it?
