Addiction

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

“Slow down, sweetheart.” Blaise gently took the glass from her hand, and replaced it on the table. “I think you’ve probably had enough for a while. Let’s dance.”

He was right. She’d been knocking the spritzers back like they were water, and she had that invincible feeling that meant she was sozzled. Dancing with Blaise seemed a very good idea right now, and she nodded eagerly. Someone had put something slow and sexy on the jukebox and there were already several couples moving to the beat. Sophie flung her arms around Blaise’s neck and moved rhythmically to the soft, sensual beat.

For his part, he wound his arms around her waist and held on while she writhed against him, a smile playing about his mouth. “You sure can dance.”

She’d taken a couple of dance classes with Serena a few years ago and knew just enough to not make a fool of herself. She had no natural rhythm though, and had to rely on learned moves. It was repetitive enough that she wouldn’t fool anyone for more than two songs. She giggled. “You’re a good partner.”

His eyes kept darting to the bar where a group of girls sat, stony-faced. One of them smirked at Sophie and lifted one of her perfectly manicured brows in Blaise’s direction. “What’s her problem?”

He wrapped his arms more securely around her, presenting her back to the women. “She’s my ex,” he explained.

“How ex?” She thought of Taylor all of a sudden, and the feeling that Blaise might be still involved with this girl made her sick.

“Last month.” He lowered his mouth to her cheek, placing a chaste kiss there. “We’re over.”

Relaxing, Sophie let the fuzz of alcohol take over again. “Okay.” A month was fine. Even if she was his rebound girl, that was just fine, since she’d decided he could be her rebound guy. She felt her lips pull in a wicked smile. Before Blaise lifted his head she captured his lips in a searing kiss.

Surprised by her own daring, she was satisfied when his tongue swept into her mouth, bringing with it the taste of bourbon. Okay, she told herself. That’s quite enough of that. But Blaise had other ideas. He backed them into a booth, pressing her to the backrest, resting his hand on her thigh. Too much, she decided. Putting a hand between them on his chest, she pushed slightly.

“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, his gaze once again drawn to the bar and his ex. Sophie turned her head in time to see the girl storm toward the bathroom, and noticed that Blaise’s passion seemed to cool quite quickly once she’d disappeared. He cleared his throat, pulled a twenty from his pocket and stalked toward the bar.

In his absence, Sophie retrieved her drink and drained it in one quick swallow. An uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach, and she knew that if she wasn’t determined to give Logan some privacy with his own date, she’d call it a night right now. Another half hour, she promised. She could leave then knowing that he’d had at least a few hours with his date to...do whatever.

The bar was filling up now, and by the time Blaise returned from the bar Sophie was feeling the need for a bit of cool air. He placed his drink on their table and offered to go out with her, but she refused. The alcohol was fuzzing her brain a little too much, and she needed a clearer mind. She was missing something, and she needed a minute to figure it out.

The night air felt heavenly on her skin, and she sighed as she leaned against the balustrade. Overhead, a fat moon hung low in the sky. She fixed her gaze on it and sorted through her sluggish mind. Blaise and his ex were obviously not over, as he’d claimed. At least, they weren’t as over as they thought they were. He’d been sullen and distant earlier in the night, but as soon as the bar started filling up a little, his attention was suddenly all for her.

Presumably his ex had walked in and he was showing her what she was missing. And by the look on her face as she stormed into the bathroom, she’d obviously been missing him a lot. Blaise didn’t seem like the type of guy who would use someone in such a way, but what did she know? She didn’t know him from a hole in the ground. She'd just arrived here three weeks ago to see Logan and that was it. She didn’t know anyone else here.

Feeling suddenly silly, she headed back inside to tell Blaise that she didn’t feel very well and was heading home. Pretty certain he wouldn’t even miss her, since he was currently embroiled in a heated conversation with said ex, Sophie turned and quickly walked back out without speaking to him at all.

The walk back to Logan’s house felt like a walk of shame after her bold statements of 'don’t wait up' earlier. She was just hoping she wasn’t intruding coming home so early. She checked her watch – it was just shy of midnight – surely Logan wouldn’t even notice her slipping into the house. He’d be getting up to whatever sexcapades he enjoyed and Sophie would just go straight to bed. She was sure the alcohol flowing though her veins right now would help her to sleep, no matter what strange sounds the bathroom bimbo would be making with her brother.

She twisted her ankle coming up the drive and decided that walking on her bare feet in the gravel was better than picking her way through it on stiletto heels. She bent down to remove her killer shoes and took her key from her purse before continuing to the door.

Stealthy as a thief, she turned the key in the door and closed it behind her without making a sound. So far, so good. She tip-toed to her room, but just as she was about to go through her doorway, movement caught the corner of her eye. Afraid to look, and at the same time powerless not to, she turned her head a fraction.

Bethany was laid out like a banquet, naked and spread on the dining room table. Thank God there’s a tablecloth, she thought, distractedly. The tablecloth was currently balled up in Bethany’s tightened fists as she moaned and writhed in ecstasy. Her blond hair was arranged around her like a pillow and her chest heaved up and down, making her large but pert breasts quiver with each moaning exhale.

One of her hands releasing the tablecloth, she reached down, stroking the dark head between her thighs. Oh, my God, that’s Logan. Sophie put a hand to her mouth to stem the gasp rising up her throat as Bethany chose that moment to grab a fistful of Logan’s hair and grind herself against his face, screaming like a banshee. Sophie realized the girl was having an orgasm, and heat crept up her face.

A moment later, Logan rose from his position between the woman’s thighs, licking his lips and smiling down at her. His naked chest gleamed with a sheen of sweat and his hair was mussed, giving him the appearance of just getting out of bed. Or just getting ready to f**k, thought Sophie, her eyes glued to the scene. He took one of Bethany’s slender calves in his hand, lifting it high, spreading her further, before he used his other hand to guide himself inside her.

Sophie found herself craning her neck for a proper look at Logan, and was shocked at the revival of desire she felt. Was she sick? This was Logan. He was her brother.

Step-brother, that old wicked voice inside her said.

Her view of Logan was blocked from the waist down due to both the woman and the tablecloth but Sophie could see the look of intense relief on his face as he entered her in a deep thrust. Bethany gasped, raising her lower body off the table to meet him thrust for thrust. “Logan,” she cried, desperately clawing at his chest. She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close.

He kissed her like a thing possessed, and Sophie found herself being turned on more than she ever had been in her entire life. Logan rode her in a punishing display of power and desire, turning Sophie’s insides to mush. Some primal thing pulled low in her belly as he again brought his partner to orgasm, screaming and flailing, calling his name like it was the only word she could remember.

And if it was the only thing Bethany could remember, Sophie couldn’t blame her. Logan kept his thrusts up, starting to groan himself now, and Sophie found her breaths coming faster and faster. She pressed her legs tight together looking for some form of relief.

Now standing straight, Bethany exhausted on the table, he pounded in and out of her. He placed a hand between her legs, making her exhale in a tortured exclamation. But he wasn’t nearly finished, and so, hand moving faster and faster while he pumped her, he made her come yet again, sobbing.

“Oh, fuck...” he groaned.

Sophie, barely able to stand, found her hand sliding down her stomach, over her skirt to her thighs and then under her skirt. She felt like she was losing control. She’d never been so ready to come in all her life, and he hadn’t even touched her. He didn’t even know she was there.

Sliding her panties to the side, she slipped a finger inside her folds, finding herself as wet as she knew she’d be. A tiny mewl bubbled up her throat and escaped her lips. Logan’s eyes locked on hers and quickly dropped to her hand, which was still moving between her legs, as if it belonged to someone else. Once again locking his gaze with hers, he came, loud and long, looking straight at Sophie. Within a millisecond her own orgasm took her by surprise, and she sagged, coming silently, her hips making small, involuntary jerks, and all the while, their gazes were locked together in a mixture of shock and lust.

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