A/N: Mature content (sigh).
I woke the next morning from warm, soft movements between my thighs, a slight ache in my jaw, throat sore like I'd swallowed sandpaper, eyes glued closed with sleep, brain fogged worse than Seattle in the winter, and no clue what time or day today was.
"Huh?" I groaned out at the warm, set sensations that dragged over my core area, which by the miniature fireworks display Logan ignited, was more awake than I was.
Am I dreaming? Because if I am, don't wake me up.
My hands rubbed my eyes, then I blinked my view of the bedroom ceiling into focus. After I tilted my chin into my chest, two ocean blue eyes glimmered up at me from between my legs, which were splayed wide open over Logan's broad shoulders.
"Returning the effort," Logan's deep voice vibrated off the soft skin of my hood, then he pushed his face lower and resumed what I was now definitely awake for. My cheeks burned warm and my head flopped back.
Oh my gosh, not dreaming!
What a wakeup... Not complaining.
The rough stubble of Logan's chin and jawline brushed against my outer folds, his breath fanned warmly over an already flamed hot area, and sensations of want and arousal both cascaded over me and fought each other for dominance at every contact point.
"Oh..." I groaned out, reached down, and squeezed my fists around... a soft surface. I wasn't sure what I'd grabbed but a few breaths later, I realized I'd clenched both hands onto the top of Logan's head and tugged my hips closer.
Logan chuckled at my reactions probably because there wasn't a gap between us to begin with, and I writhed quietly as his tongue dragged over my clit, followed by his mouth, which rolled it between his lips and sucked gently. Heat coiled deep inside my pelvis from the tingled friction he stroked over my sensitive skin, my eyes squeezed so tightly shut until the blackness blinked with white stars, and I moaned softly under his tongue's irritatingly patient ministrations.
With his tongue, warm, wet, textured sensations slipped inside me, which clenched my toes and arched my back off the now flaming warm sheets. In one movement, his shallow strokes were joined with one of his long fingers. My reactions must've chipped away at his patience because he rubbed, sucked, and licked at a faster, near insistent pace until my body melted under his direction.
The soft texture of the fine blonde hairs threaded between my fingers and, once I came, I tugged gently but Logan ignored me. He rubbed his finger along the now sensitive ridges of my inner walls until they throbbed for a second release, my outer skin numbed from pleasured friction from his mouth, and I clenched my teeth together.
"Ahh..." I groaned between pants as my second high crashed faster than the first. My chest heaved a few times, my heart beat thundered in my ear drums, and, thankfully, Logan withdrew.
In the middle of our busy fall semester, I'd gone back to the health clinic right on schedule in my current cycle, where Dr. Robbins gave me an IUD during a very stressful but thankfully quick insertion procedure. I'd spent the next week under the assumption that it'd fall out at any moment, but nothing happened other than some light spotting.
Despite my new birth control having a higher effectiveness rate, reassurance flooded through me when Logan stood up, retrieved a condom from his dresser's top drawer, and rolled it on effortlessly. The corners of my lips pulled up the longer I raked my eyes over his appearance, from the messy bedhead look I'd probably given him to the darker look he gave me, that damn sinister smirk even though his lips glistened with evidence of my orgasms...
And that's just his head up.
My smile widened when Logan's large frame caged over me like a wall of warmth and security. With one reach down between us, he gently guided himself embarrassingly easily inside my soaked channel, then slowly pushed inward as I adjusted to the intrusion with a few slow breaths.
"Good morning." In what sounded like his back to normal, slightly cocky but ridiculously sexy voice, Logan murmured vibrations into my shoulder. My response died when he pressed a trail of soft kisses up the side of my neck, braced his weight on his elbows, and rolled his hips into me.
"Ha, morning," I croaked out because while Logan's attention had felt amazing, part of me wondered what I'd done that deserved his efforts.
My skepticism melted away as my knees fell open, I wrapped my arms around his hard, rippled oblique muscles, and rested my palms on his lower back. Joined together intimately, our hips pushed and bucked together in steady, rolling movements that tensed my body into a third peak of pleasure. Heightened from my earlier releases, the sounds of how we connected filled my ears and my nose cringed into Logan's shoulder at the squelches.
Breath after breath, alternated with a few gasps and hums of approval, I hugged Logan until our bodies were damp with perspiration, our movements jarred sloppily, and we both groaned in relief when he came in the condom.
Logan pushed a few more deep, steady thrusts into me, then stilled. His cock twitched inside me while hot waves of breath fanned over my shoulder, where he rested his chin and murmured how much he loved me. I whispered some kind of sentiments, which ones I wasn't entirely sure because my brain had turned into molten goo underneath him.
Warmth and a sense of fullness left me as Logan slowly pulled out, then rolled off me and panted for a few breaths. Trembles ran down my inner thighs as I closed them, then extended my legs one at a time before I turned my head in his direction.
My heart warmed at the sight of Logan's eyes closed, a content smile on his mouth, and not a single line of concern on his face. With a shifted movement, I nestled my head on his chest, my palm flat on his heartbeat pulses as they decelerated.
A few minutes of silence later, curiosity got the best of me. "Are you alright?"
"Am now." Logan's chuckle bounced my hand, which I lifted and swatted his shoulder with. A soft smack of skin on skin broke through the silence between us, until we both laughed quietly.
"Shameless," my voice scolded him but the warmth in my heart chilled when tension lines crept into his expression. "I was being serious."
"About Dad's news?" Logan groaned, raised his elbow, and rested his forearm over his eyes. "Terrible timing but guess I should appreciate him informing his old family that he plans on making a new one."
Last night's conversation replayed through my head and I reminded him, "From what he said, your mom and Brody already knew."
"Guess there's only one way to find out," he muttered and rolled out of bed.
While I hobbled around the bedroom on shaky legs, used the toilet, and dressed in the closet, Logan returned to the room with his phone in hand. He tossed it on the bed then dressed quickly and dialed who we knew gave us a straight answer.
"Logan!" Grace's warm voice chirped out of the phone. "Didn't think I'd hear from you since Dad's visiting... Wait, you're calling me before a game? It is Saturday, right? Let me check... Oh crud, where's the calendar on this stupid phone."
"Like it should say at the top of your screen, it's Saturday Mom." Logan's mouth twitched slightly while the phone went silent. His eyes rolled and he muttered, "She probably muted us."
The more moments of silence that passed between us, the stronger Logan's 'I told you so' radiated from his eyes. Finally, Grace muttered, "Muted you, sorry."
Logan's raised eyebrows deserved only a head shake, so I gave him one.
"Are you okay? Injured? Or is it Ellie?" My palm clamped over the giggle that shook my shoulders as she rushed, "Oh my stars, please tell me Ellie is okay."
"I'm fine," I called out and rolled my lips inward against the smile that tugged on my lips. "Hi Grace."
"Ellie, hi Sweetie!" Her voice exuded so much positive energy, I smiled widely. Before I responded, the phone crackled with static like Grace exhaled loudly. "So... If no one's injured then I assume this is about Dad's visit."
"Yep," Logan replied in a voice drier than the humor behind the U-Dub signs that taunted Jake during the USC game. "He told us about the twins."
"Oh... Twins?" Grace's voice flattened with recognition as to why we'd called, which was quickly replaced with shock that rang out clearly through Logan's speaker phone. "Wow, I... twins, hmm. He only told me Olivia was expecting. Well fudge nuggets, that explains Brody's moodiness."
"I'm not moody," a dry male voice spoke up in the background.
My heart clenched for Brody while I hugged my elbows into my stomach.
He's probably affected even more than Logan.
My next words slipped out before my filter kicked in, "Is that why he changed his last name?"
"Technically he's still Brody McCallister since we've only filed the name change forms online to the courts," Grace clarified with another sigh. "But he has a superior court date right after Thanksgiving. It's at the Santa Cruz courthouse, I think."
Brody's sarcasm came through loud and clear with, "Circled on the calendar."
"And Dad's okay with that," Logan stated, not asked without a blink down at his phone screen.
"I..." Grace paused for a moment while Brody muttered something inaudible. "Don't think he was thrilled but he's accepted it's Brody's decision. Brody threatened going the emancipation route, which I'm glad he didn't and Garrett relented. Thankfully, only one of us needs to be present at the superior court with Brody, so we'll go early December."
"Good," Logan gritted out. "Don't have to tell you I'm not happy about Dad's news."
"Wouldn't expect you to be," Grace's voice softened with threads of sympathy. "But it doesn't change how he feels about you, Brody, or me either."
A playful smirk curled up the corners of Logan's mouth. "You'll tell me if you're having more too, right?"
"Oh, you're a funny idiot!" Grace barked out a loud laugh. "I can assure you, you'll hear none of that from me. No one's knocking on my doorstep but even if they were, at my age, my ovaries aren't spitting out anything but dust."
"Mom..." Logan's playful smirk dissolved, he paused, and swallowed hard, his eyes trained on his phone screen. "You know if you found someone, I'd be okay with that."
"Sure," she replied dryly. "I'm not playing the field, I can't even see it Logan. Swipe left, right, the heck does that even mean? You and Brody are more than enough men in my life and my only priority right now. In fact, I'm looking at possible later dates for me to come up and embarrass you in person again."
A mix of emotions swirled in Logan's eyes, of which I recognized guilt and relief, as he leaned back against the headboard. His eyes glazed over for a moment, he swallowed again, then finally spoke with a strained voice, "Sounds good... Love you Mom."
The smile returned to Grace's voice. "Love you too, son... Almost as much as Ellie."
"Love you too Grace."
"Thanks again for such great seats," Olivia gushed at me from inside the closet women's restroom to our section.
"Of course." I sighed from my squatted hover position within my stall, finished my business, and met her by the sinks.
My eyes studied Logan's stepmom while she splashed a few droplets of water onto her cheeks. I knew nothing about pregnancy stages and if she hadn't told me then I would've never known.
"I feel awful," she murmured to herself.
In our reflections, Olivia stood a few inches taller than me but there was no comparison. With her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, an obviously new, crisp Huskies' jersey, and white jeans, she even managed to make a college football game casual look polished.
Once we exited the bathroom, she glanced at me and spoke in a quiet voice, "Listen, Eleanor... I'm sorry about last night."
"I am too," I admitted while my eyes tracked our steps back to our section's entrance.
So are my knees... So is my throat for that matter.
Olivia stopped outside the opening to our section, her eyes more blue than the gray sky overcast above the stadium. Since a play continued, we followed game courtesy and waited at the section entrance before we stepped in front of and blocked other people's views.
"If it's alright with you, Eleanor," she started with the first hint of hesitation I'd heard since I met the woman. "I know my place within the family but would like us to get the... uncertainty settled before we leave, for both Logan and Garrett's sakes."
My lower lip rolled under for a few moments of silent reflection because, at this point, I wasn't entirely sure where I fit into his dad's side of the family, if at all. While I agreed with Olivia that unnecessary family stress probably wasn't good for a pregnant woman, the idea that I butted in between Logan and his dad felt a bit intrusive and put an unsettled sensation in my stomach.
I certainly wasn't happy when he did it with mine.
"That's probably for the best," I relented with a sigh that sagged my shoulders. "But it's Logan's decision on what kind of relationship he wants."
"Sometimes I wish we could lock them in a room together until they've sorted it out," she spoke up behind me once a slight delay in the game gave us our chance and we walked down the steps to our seats.
My butt hadn't even sat fully down in my hardened seat when a familiar Southern voice greeted me in her own special way.
"Da fuck is wrong with him!?" Momma Williams' voice lamented in my ear. "I'm even honte for your man today, Miss Ellie."
Haunt? Honte...
My brain scrambled for a decoder when Monique thankfully leaned over Momma Williams' lap, her dark brown eyes steadied on mine. "Don't be embarrassed, he's trying Momma."
"Hush Precious," accompanied a swatted palm in the direction of Monique's face. "Mind your business. I ain' pale kaka with you right now."
"Damn right we're not, voodoo witch," Monique muttered and sat back in her seat. By her annoyed expression, I figured I asked for a translation later.
"So Momma..." I cleared my throat and pointed at Mr. McCallister on my left and Olivia on his left. "This is Logan's dad and stepmom."
"Pleasure ya'll." She stretched a hand across my lap. "Your boy sucks today."
"Momma!" Monique scolded from behind her. "Did you leave your manners behind this week?"
"Callin' 'em like I see 'em," was the muttered response, which actually I had no argument against.
"He is having a tough game..." I mumbled quietly and cast my gaze over the field, where Logan picked himself up from the second time he'd been sacked during this game. While he hadn't thrown any interceptions, absolutely nothing clicked on the Huskies' offense in a game most fans had expected was one-sided in the home team's favor.
For the record, I didn't think Logan had played poorly just... completely off, like his head wasn't even in the game. And while probably only three of us in a stadium of seventy-two thousand fans knew the real reason why, the frustration level associated with a 0-14 score late in the second quarter of an anticipated blowout game was pretty high.
He'll pull through. I know it.
"She's not wrong," Mr. McCallister gritted out then shifted his eyes downward to me like I knew why Logan played so distractedly. "He hasn't looked this bad since his pee-wee games."
My lips pursed, I rolled them inward, and held back the biting words my brain formed in response to his own dad's criticism.
"Maybe he just needs to regroup during half-time," Olivia offered, then tossed me an apologetic smile. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."
Didn't she just go?
Part of me felt obliged that I escorted her, but I'd already done that twice in the first half and felt like I'd spent more time away from my seat than in it.
Thankfully, Monique's eyes met mine, she poked Momma Williams' shoulder, and announced, "You too."
"I'm fine!" was the irritated response.
"Better to go before the half-time crowd, Momma Williams," I reminded her. With a quieted huff, she stood and brushed past me, followed by a very sympathetic look from Monique.
Despite how we sat nearly shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowded section, suddenly I felt completely alone with Logan's dad. Years of suppressed opinions ruptured inside me and I clenched my molars down so they stayed suppressed.
"Eleanor..." Mr. McCallister's voice broke through my vacant stare across the field, while both UW and Arkansas State trotted off for half-time. "You can say it, I know."
My head whipped sideways so quickly that a nerve pinched in my neck. "Huh?"
"I'm the reason he's distracted," he admitted with a thread of guilt in his voice.
"You did kind of drop a bombshell on him last night," I replied slowly because every nerve ending my body twitched from how badly I wanted to verbally lash out. "He was... very upset and I can't say I blame him. You could've told him tonight, after the game."
"I know and... I respect that," he replied quietly. "But he needs to understand -"
"Mr. McCallister." I sucked in a sharp breath. "With all due respect, he understands perfectly. He wants you to be happy but it looks like you're replacing your family with a new one."
"That's not it at all," he murmured quietly, like my words might have actually sunk in. "Liv is my second chance to be better but -"
"Then you're wasting your first chance," I muttered before I realized the words had slipped out.
"It's not easy," he replied quickly, in a surprisingly sad tone of voice. "He's never forgiven me, turned his back after I left and never -"
My mind did a quick mental calculation, "He was twelve, right? Lot of pressure for a twelve year old to be mature and I'm sorry that this is harsh but your actions come off as very... self-centered."
I swallowed hard at the candid accusation and fixed my eyes forward on the Husky band's halftime show. The pressure to look sideways increased until I succumbed to and met a pensive look in Mr. McCallister's brown eyes.
"All of it," he finally said. "Your opinion."
"Mr. McCallister?" I choked out because I had no idea why this man, who'd previously accused me of being a groupie gold-digger distraction, now wanted my view on his fractured relationship with Logan.
"I would never -" I started when a stern look in his eyes silenced that weak statement.
My thoughts churned while I sat silently for a few moments and collected them. As my chest heaved with a deep breath in, I exhaled sharply. "Fine."
"It's a tough situation, you made a mistake and he hasn't forgiven you for it," I blurted out. "Regaining trust is hard and Logan has to want a relationship with you. It's his forgiveness to offer and there's nothing you can do to forcibly take it from him.."
Mr. McCallister sat as still as Logan had during dinner last night, arms crossed over his chest, but nodded slightly. "Go on."
What does he mean, go on? That's it.
"Umm..." I rolled my lower lip inward, bit down gently, then released my next words with the soft flesh, "I think he regrets not having a relationship with you but, at the end of the day, it's not worth the effort because you - or your actions - make you seem like what you want is more important. I think he believes you aren't sorry for what happened."
"That's not..." He paused and absently scratched at his chin. "I've always put his football, his future first."
"But he's more than that," I blurted out and stared straight into his eyes. "He's kind, warm, and sensitive under that cocky exterior. He loves hard and unconditionally. He's smart, hard-working, and honestly would be just as good as a science teacher as an NFL quarterback."
A thin line creased between Mr. McCallister's eyebrows and his arms crossed over his chest. "A lot harder to live on that science teacher's salary."
"But if he's happy?" My question lingered between us, since I hadn't expected an answer, and instead shifted the topic slightly, "He's very aware of how quickly the game can be taken away. Honestly, if he's not injured then we both know where he's going but he's smart to have a back-up. And I couldn't respect him more for that..."
After a long, and frankly uncomfortable silent pause, he leaned back in his seat and studied me. "You have a different way of seeing situations, Eleanor."
Half of my mouth quirked up sideways. "I've been told that. I won't be one of those girls who keeps him away from his family but I'll support his decisions and defend him if needed."
"I get that," he chuckled quietly, pulled out his phone, then glanced at the screen. "I'd like to hash things out between us but we're running on borrowed time."
Tentativeness laced my voice but I pushed out, "Then... If I can make a suggestion, go out to dinner tonight with just the two of you. I'll do... something with Olivia if you want but go somewhere lowkey, talk things through. And listen. Even if you just let him yell at you."
After what felt like hours of silence, Mr. McCallister nodded tightly and I exhaled both lungs' worth of air.
"Liv probably could use a night of pampering and rest at the hotel," he murmured more to himself than me, then lifted his eyes with an obvious but unspoken question in them.
"He'll go," I assured him with a smile that probably conveyed a greater sense of confidence in me than I felt inside.
I hope.