More Than Her by Jay McLean

  A bunch of Ethan's friends were in the living room watching the game, including James. James walked past us to go to the kitchen. "Amanda," he nodded in greeting. Then looked to Logan, his eyebrows bunched in confusion. I don't know if he knew Logan lived here, or if he suspected something else. "Matthews," he did the same head nod towards Logan.

  "Asshole," Logan replied.

  We waited for James to be done in the kitchen before going in; I sat up on the counter while he got out two bottles of water. He handed me one the same time Ethan walked in.

  "You okay?" he asked, clearly concerned.

  I smiled at him. "Uh huh."

  Logan leaned back on the opposite counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

  "You sure?" Ethan asked again. He's always been a good brother, and even though we're twins, he's always acted like an older one, a protector of sorts. He understands who I am and he puts up with my shit, even when I don't deserve it. But the summer after senior year, things changed. He became more than just my brother, he became my best friend.

  "'I'm sure E, it's fine. Logan took care of me."

  Logan choked on his water, then tried to contain his laugh. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, while Ethan looked from me to him, a look of disgust clear on his face.

  "I don't even want to know," E said, shaking his head. He continued, "So, you don't..." a slow smirk developed as he took a step closer. I was confused for a second before his arms come up. "You don't need a hug do you?"

  My legs automatically kicked out in front of me. "No. Ew. Gross."

  He started laughing, backing away.

  "What's that about?" Logan said through his own laughter.

  Great. My brother and my whatever-the-hell Logan was, both laughing at me.

  "Dimmy hates being hugged. Ask Tyson. It was the one thing he didn't love about her."

  My face fell at the mention of his name. I could see Logan watching me from the corner of my eye. I knew what his next question was going to be. I mentally prepared myself for it.

  Ethan left the room.

  And then it was deadly silent.

  I kept my eyes trained to the floor. I saw him take the few steps until he was right in front of me. He separated my legs so he could stand between them. Then he placed both hands on the counter either side of me.

  I never looked up.

  I waited.

  And I waited.

  "So," he said, his voice low. "You hate being hugged?"

  Not the question I was expecting. I couldn't help but smile as my eyes moved up to meet his. I nodded once.

  His arms went around my waist. Mine moved on their own until they rest on his shoulders. His smile matched mine. He pulled me closer.

  "I would have never guessed," he whispered in my ear. Then he rubbed his nose along my jaw until his mouth was aligned with mine. "I must be special," he said into my mouth, right before he kissed me.

  And I lose myself.

  In his hold.

  In his kiss.

  I completely lose myself in Logan Matthews.

  He started to pull away, but came back in for a few more chaste kisses. I giggled into his mouth.

  He rubbed his palms up and down my bare legs. "What are we doing tonight?" he asked.

  "We are doing nothing. I am going to work."

  He threw his head back, frustrated.

  "But," I continued. "I have tomorrow day and the next day completely free, but I have to work tomorrow night."

  "I have practice in the morning, and then I'm free the rest of the day." He paused, thinking. "And the next day too."

  He backed away and left the kitchen.

  I knew he was lying, but I didn't care. Right now, I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than him.

  Logan

  Clearly whoever the fuck that Tyson asshole was—he wasn't holding her right.

  TWENTY

  Logan

  Amanda got a ride to work from a friend. A non-Tony friend.

  The guys ended up leaving as soon as the game was done and some girl came over, I didn't see her, I just heard her heels as she walked into the house. They went straight to Ethan's room without saying a word. I stayed on the sofa and studied.

  I don't know how much time passed before Ethan came out, with a brunette in tow. If you had asked me a few months ago, I would've told you she was hot. She just wasn't Amanda.

  It was close to eleven, and I was still on the sofa surrounded by books. It was a sight not many people saw. The brunette with him stopped suddenly when she saw me. I hope I hadn't screwed her because this could get real awkward.

  "Kellie, this is Logan." Ethan had his hand on the small of her back as he introduced us. I motioned a small wave.

  She smiled, throwing her hand out for me to take. "Kellie, with an I E, just so you know," she cooed, stepping closer to me. I looked from her hand, to her face. She was checking me out. I looked behind her, to Ethan, who was yawning.

  I shook her hand once, firmly, and said to Ethan, "What are you guys doing?"

  He finished his yawn with a grunt, "Kellie's going home. I was about to pick up Amanda."

  "I don't know why you need to pick her up all the time. Surely Tony could bring her home." She turned to face him. "I wanted to sleep over tonight," she whined.

  His shoulders lifted with a carefree attitude. "I don't want her riding with guys I don't know. Just leave it alone okay?" I picked up on his angry tone straight away. I'd have to ask him what he meant later.

  "Whatevs," she sang, making her way to the front door. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." She kissed him on the cheek before he lazily shut the door behind her.

  He made his way back to the living room and sat on the recliner opposite me.

  He looked at the books surrounding me. "I thought you were a dumbass."

  My gaze shifted from my book to him. I lifted an eyebrow in question.

  "You study. A lot. More than anyone I know. When you're not in class or practice your head's in a book. What's the deal? What's your major?"

  "Pre-med."

  "No shit?" His shock didn't surprise me. I'd gotten used to it.

  "Shit," I replied, sighing and closing the book. I threw it to the side. "So. Kellie?" I contained my smirk.

  "No dude. Kellie with an I E." His voice rose to a mockingly girly tone.

  Then we both laughed.

  "Fuck," he moaned, rubbing his eyes. "I need to save up and buy Dimmy a car, I'm sick of driving her around all the fucking time. I’m tired as hell right now, and I can't be fucked." He threw his head back against his chair.

  "I'll pick her up tonight, we could share the workload."

  He didn't answer, just looked at me curiously. "So, I think we need to talk about this."

  I lifted my chin. "About what?"

  "You know what."

  "I really don't." I tried to act bored.

  "You've lived here a few days. There still isn't shit in your room. Where do you sleep?"

  I kept my mouth shut.

  "Dude," he continued. "I'm not an idiot, and I'm not an asshole. I'm not going to sit here and give you some speech about how you can't be with her or whatever, not that you'd listen. I see you guys together, you know? I hear you guys laughing at night. I know you sleep in her room. And I hope that's all you do—sleep. Because she's not ready for much else."

  I opened my mouth to interrupt him. He raised his hand to stop me. "Look, if you guys are going to do whatever you're doing, just be careful with her, okay? I'm not going to give you a reason or tell you why...but it's more than just a brother looking out for his sister, you know?"

  I was confused. I had no idea what the fuck he saying.

  "She's changed with you."

  That got my attention. "What do you mean?"

  "You guys knew each other before you moved in." It was a statement, not a question. "I mean, I assume because of the way she acted when sh
e saw you. I don't need to know how or why, but she's happier when you're around. I don't get it, but whatever you're doing, thank you."

  He stood up and put his fist out for me to bump.

  I did.

  I still had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

  "If you could pick her up tonight that would be awesome." He started walking to his room. "She finishes at midnight." He stopped just before walking in and placed both hands on either side of the door. Then, with a smirk on his face, he said, "Holy shit, Kellie I E wore me out." He chuckled to himself before entering his room and closing the door behind him.

  Amanda

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face when he arrived at work to pick me up, but by the time he we got into his car, something had switched. I could see him looking at me from the corner of his eye, but he wouldn't face me. I saw him open his mouth to say something, but he didn't speak. It felt like the longest car ride in history.

  When we finally pulled up to the house and got in, he went straight to his room.

  I dressed for bed and knocked on his door.

  "Come in," he said.

  He was in his sleeping bag on the floor.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  He sighed. "Nothing, just studying." His books were spread out in front of him.

  I sat on the floor next to him, "Two truths?"

  He slowly closed all the books and stacked them in a pile on the other side of him. "Sure." He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I go first, though."

  I nodded

  "Tony?"

  I rolled my eyes.

  He continued. "I ran into him outside the bathroom, right before we left your work, he said that you guys are a thing? or will be? I don't know...but he told me to back off, that you were his. What the hell?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know why he told you that, but it's not true. I mean, we've fooled around a couple of times..." I trailed off, not wanting to go into too much detail.

  He raised his eyebrows. "That's all?" He was pissed.

  I reared back, "What do you want me to say? Why are you pissed?"

  He shrugged, avoiding my eyes.

  I stood up and walked to his door. "You're being an asshole."

  ***

  I was in my room for all of two seconds before he came in, a different emotion set on his features. "I'm sorry," he said.

  I shook my head, not looking at him. "You're being a dick. You've been in my life for what? A week? And you want to act like this when you find out that I've fooled around with someone. You have no right!" He stayed silent. I got out my anger. "And what about you? I know the number of people I've slept with. Do you? Can you give me a number?" I finally turned to face him. His hands were in his pockets. His gaze fixed on the floor. I went on, "Two, Logan. I've slept with two people." He lifted his head now, eyes penetrating mine. "And neither of those people were you. So you have no right to be like this. Quit acting like an asshole and get over it."

  He just stared at me. I could feel the air rushing in and out of my lungs as I tried to level my breathing. Then a smug smirk developed on his face, and he finally spoke, "I fucking love this feisty side. It's such a turn on."

  "Get out!" I pointed to the door then turned to get into bed.

  I sensed him move, before I felt his hands on my waist, his breath on my ear, "I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm sorry I'm being an asshole. But the thought of you, and some other guy with his hands all over you—I hate it, Amanda." He gently turned me to face him, and then rested his forehead against mine. He kissed me once, softly. "I want to feel everywhere he's felt. I want to replace the memory of his touch with mine. I don't want a single part of your body to not know my hands, do you understand?" His voice was low, husky, filled with desire.

  My eyes drifted shut at his words. A sound of agreement leaves my mouth. He started kissing my jaw. "Has he kissed you here?" he whispered, his words muffled.

  I nodded.

  His lips moved from my jaw and worked their way down to my neck, kissing, licking, and slightly sucking. I could feel his hard-on against my stomach. One of his hands moved to cup the back of my head, his fingers curled into my hair, softly pulling and tilting my head back to give him better access.

  I moaned.

  His other hand moved under my shirt, the back of his fingers skimming my stomach before I felt him grip my side, just under my breast. I wasn't wearing a bra.

  He released his grip on my hair just enough that my head fell forward; he kissed me again, just once. Then I felt his thumb rub against my already straining nipple. He made a moaning sound from deep in his throat, pushing into me. "Has he touched here?"

  I nodded again.

  He replaced his thumb with his hand, covering my entire breast, gently squeezing.

  "Oh my God," I whispered. My chest heaved with every breath. My legs squeezed together trying to find some form of relief.

  His other hand moved from my head, to under my shirt and onto my bare back. Then he started to slide it lower, and lower, slowly making it's way under my panties and onto my ass.

  "Fucking shit," he spat out, grabbing a handful. "Please don't tell me he's touched you here?"

  I kept quiet.

  "Fuck." He knew the meaning of my silence.

  It was quite for a few moments, his head resting on my shoulder, one hand gripped my ass, and the other held my breast. The only sound in the room was our heavy breathing. Then his hand on my ass slowly moved, from the back, to the front, his fingers started playing under the band of panties. His head lifted from my shoulders, his eyes darkened as he took in my flushed face.

  "And here?" Anger was laced in his tone.

  My lips thinned to a line.

  He moved his hand lower, and lower, until the tip of his finger met my wetness.

  And he had to know.

  He had to know what he did to me.

  I bit my lip to try and contain whatever sound was about to escape. But then I felt his finger inside me, and any and all control I had was gone. I threw my head back; my legs gave out underneath me. His arm curved around my back, holding me to him. And then I was airborne. With his finger still inside me, I was moving. I heard something fall to the floor, before my ass landed on my desk. Then his single finger was replaced by two, and he moved them, in and out. He drove me crazy. My head started thrashing from side to side, my hands were on his shoulders, trying to hold on. His mouth caught mine, and finally, he kissed me, his tongue coming out and invading my mouth.

  And I wanted him.

  I fucking wanted him.

  More than ever.

  I don't know how much time passed, before he pulled back, just enough to speak, "Did he make you feel like this?" he said, moving his fingers inside me.

  "Oh God," I moaned out.

  "Did he?" he asked again, a little louder.

  "Not even close, Logan." I curl my arm around his neck and brought him back down to my mouth.

  I was on the freaking edge, and he must've known because he started pumping his finger faster into me, his palm rubbed on my clit at the same time. It seemed like a well-practiced move, but before I could think about how or why, he pulled back from the kiss and replaced his mouth and tongue with his thumb. He watched me intently as I slowly licked it and sucked it into my mouth. His eyes rolled back along with his head while he groaned out the sexiest fucking sound I'd ever heard.

  Then he pulled his hand away from my mouth and moved it under my shirt, where his now wet thumb rubbed against my nipple again.

  And then he stopped.

  Time stood still.

  My breathing got even heavier.

  Then he looked intently into my eyes, his face carrying an emotion I couldn't decipher.

  "Amanda." He whispered, shaking his head.

  And then it was silent.

  For so long I don't know if this was as far as we were going to go.
<
br />   And I watched him. I watched his eyes roam my face. Those green eyes I remember so well. For months after that night, I could close my eyes and see them. The way they lit up when he made me laugh, or the intensity in them when he listened to me speak.

  I swallowed down my emotions.

  When I opened my eyes, his face was so close to mine. And I was no longer confused by what he was thinking, or what he was feeling, because I felt it too.

  Only he felt the guilt, the regret. And I could see it in his eyes; how sorry he was for all of it.

  And this—this is the moment I forgave him.

  "Logan." I held his face in my hands. "No one makes me feel the way you do." It was the truth.

  Instantly his mouth was on mine, his fingers moved, his thumb rubbed.

  It started at my toes—that tingle feeling—then moved its way up to the pit of my stomach, and I think I must have blacked-out from the pleasure of it, because all I could remember is his name leaving my lips over and over and over.

  Once the buzz had faded, I finally managed to open my eyes, and he was there, inches from my face. A smile on his lips. Only he was blurry. I blinked a few times to correct my vision.

  "Hey, pretty girl," he said quietly, the same time he removed his fingers. "Welcome back."

  TWENTY ONE

  Logan

  I quietly opened her bedroom door to let her know that I'd be back. I didn't want her to think I'd forgotten our plans to spend the day together.

  I shook her gently, but she didn't wake. I shook her a little harder. "What the hell?" she said, her words muffled by the pillow.

  "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be back later."

  "Logan?"

  "No, the other guy you let finger fuck you."

  She gasped and sat up straight, a look of shock on her face.

  I chuckled.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it. Her shoulders slumped as she said, "What time is it?" She reached to her nightstand for her phone, "Five-thirty? Five fucking thirty! Who the hell gets up at this time?"