Page 75 of Here We Go Again
Slow. Gentle. Safe. “Do you touch yourself when you’re alone?” she asks softly.
Rosemary lapses into a brief coughing fit. It’s maybe the cutest thing Logan’s ever seen. “Uh, yes, I… um… I do masturbate.”
Logan pauses for a beat until Rosemary’s blush fades a bit. “How do you masturbate? Do you watch porn?”
Rosemary scrunches her nose. “I’ve tried, but it doesn’t really work for me. The characters never spend any time getting to know each other first. I think I need to believe the characters are emotionally connected before they get to the smutty stuff, otherwise, I just…” she trails off, but Logan fills in the blanks. Sex means nothing to Rosemary if it means nothing.
“So, not porn. What do you use when you masturbate?”
“My… imagination,” Rosemary answers, and Logan wishes she could leap across this bathtub and kiss her right now. Of course Rosemary doesn’t need anything but her beautiful brain to get aroused. She wonders if Rosemary ever writes her fantasies down, if there is ever sex in her wonderful stories.
“And my hand,” Rosemary adds. “My imagination and my hand.”
Logan grips the edge of the tub to force herself not to lunge.Slow. Safe.“Will you show me?”
Rosemary freezes. Beads of water drip from her hair down her slender throat, and Logan would give anything to see that perfectly polished hand slip between those pillowy thighs.
“I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself,” she says earnestly. “I want to know how to make you feel good.”
Rosemary’s desert-sky eyes go wide. “You want to watch me masturbate?”
Logan nods and says, “Fucking yes,” and she sounds too eager, too nervous, too everything.
Rosemary brushes her hair out of her face and her mouth crinkles into its familiar puckered shape, that pattern Logan knows by heart, like a road she could drive in the dark, always finding herself safely home again.
“What if I do it with you?” Logan runs a hand across her own breasts, down her stomach, her skin prickling with sensitivity like it hasn’t in years, since those early sexual encounters when she hadn’t yet learned to guard her heart. Logan slides her fingers between her legs, and she has to bite down on an immediate gasp.
Rosemary mirrors her actions, so tentative as her fingers inch closer to her smooth vulva. She touches herself, then cringes in embarrassment. Logan closes her eyes while Rosemary gets more comfortable with herself, and when she opens them again, Rosemary has two fingers moving in slow circles around her clit. She releases the sexiest fucking sound Logan’s ever heard. Before Rosemary can feel embarrassed again, Logan whispers, “I loved that sound. Please, Rosemary. Let me hear you.”
Rosemary gasps again as she begins touching herself more vigorously. She becomes unguarded, uncensored, and completely unafraid.
Logan watches every stroke like it’s a choreography she needs to memorize. She sinks deeper into her own touch. She barks a stringof curses, letting every joyful “shit” and “fuck” and “motherfucking clit sucker” fly free, which makes Rosemary laugh wildly. Rosemary loses a little more control, the occasionalyesescapes her mouth. Then Rosemary’s free hand clutches her breast. She pebbles her own nipple between her manicured fingers, and Logan is probably going to die.
Rosemary’s head is thrown back, her teeth biting down on her full, bottom lip. The pale column of her wet throat. The tremor in her chest. The absolute glory of watching Rosemary “Binder” Hale come undone. Logan can’t handle it. She looks as open and free as the girl from the summertime woods, and Logan is overwhelmed by how much she wanted Rosemary back then and how much she wants her right now.
Rosemary opens her eyes and catches Logan’s gaze. Blue eyes burning, she holds her stare without losing her rhythm, two feet away, riding her own hand toward climax. “Rosemary,” she pants. “Can I please finish you?”
“Yes,” Rosemary whispers back without hesitation.
Yes, yes, yes.
They shift. More water sloshes out of the tub, and they laugh as Rosemary tucks herself between Logan’s legs, back to chest. Logan kisses that beautiful throat, and Rosemary cranes her head back so she can capture Logan’s mouth. Kisses her deeply, desperately, as Logan slides two fingers back under the water.
Logan touches Rosemary exactly like she touched herself. Two fingers, massaging around her clit. And Rosemary grips Logan’s thighs and clenches her toes against the water spout. Rosemary’s ass is pressed firmly against her, and she feels herself still coiling, too. Tightening and building and almost breaking.
It’s never felt like this. She’s let so many other people into her bed and into her pants. Some she loved when she was young, even if they couldn’t love her back. Some who loved her, even if she had completely closed herself off from caring.
Butthis. Logan feels like someone threw open all her windows and doors, dragging the furniture into the front yard. There is nothing left to hide behind, no part to play. She cares. She cares so damn much, it might destroy her.
She bites down on Rosemary’s neck and wishes she could consume her.
Rosemary comes apart with her back arched, her toes clinging to the faucet, and her mouth on Logan’s. She comes in a fit of curses and gasps, holds on to Logan ferociously through the tremors Logan teases out of her until she’s boneless in Logan’s arms. Until she feels like hers.
Rosemary doesn’t give herself time to fully recover before she’s sloshing around again, angling herself so she can get a hand between Logan’s legs. She’s too eager, too far to the right, but it doesn’t matter. Logan uncoils completely from nothing more than a single finger on Rosemary Hale’s right hand.
ROSEMARY
She can’t just go to sleep. She maybe won’t sleep ever again. She has the entire infinite sky in her chest and the taste of Logan on her tongue.
