Then I flipped us over until I was on top of her. I started kissing her neck, down her body, her breasts, her stomach, lower and lower. She needed to blow once more, because I sure as shit couldn't go on much longer. I got to her pelvis, and kissed either side. I could smell her. It made me dizzy. I needed to taste her.

I started to dip my head, but her fingers gripped my hair and pulled, stopping me.

Amanda

I looked down at him. His eyebrows were bunched.

"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered.

He rolled his eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

My mind was swimming with lust I didn't even register what was happening until it was too late. Now he was down there and I didn't know what to do. I shook my head, "You can't. I mean—"

He cut me of with a smirk on his face. "Has this happened to you before?"

I shook my head slowly.

His smirk got bigger.

"Good," he said, moving off the bed and kneeling on the floor. "Enjoy, babe."

Then his hands were on my ankles dragging me further down the bed. He spread my legs with his palms flat on the inside of my thighs, and then lifted them over his shoulders.

I threw my head back against the pillow and shut my eyes tight. Then I felt his warm breath on me and I waited.

"Ready?" he asked. I imagined his half smile single dimple face and could probably come just from that image alone; I was so fucking turned on.

Then his tongue was on me.

My hips raised off the bed because it was so much more than I thought it would fucking be. He held my hips down to stop me from moving. "Relax, babe," is all he said before I felt it again. He moved slowly, up and down. I tried to squirm and pull back and away because it was just too fucking much. But he held me there and made sure I took every single second of this intense pleasure he gave me. Unknowingly, my hips had started thrusting into his face. I was making him fuck me with his tongue. Oh my God. What the fuck was happening?

"Fuck I love your pussy,” he said, his mouth never leaving me.

"Oh my God," I moaned out, thrusting faster. I couldn't fucking help it.

"Ready?"

"Huh?"

Then he covered my clit with his mouth and sucked. And it's all I needed to push me over the edge. I bit my lip to stop from screaming. Not squealing. Not moaning. But screaming.

When I finally came back to earth and opened my eyes he was above me. Watching me. "Hey, pretty girl." He wiped my wetness of his face. He leaned down to kiss me, but paused half way, hesitating. After the way he made me feel I couldn't give a fuck if I could taste myself on him. I put my arm around his neck and brought him down to me. He moaned into my mouth. Tasting myself on him turned me on more.

"Fuck," he groaned out, before effortlessly entering me. His head fell to my shoulder. His weight held up by his forearms. He started moving in and out, harder, and faster. "I’m not going to last long, Amanda. You're ruining me right now."

"Uh." I couldn't say anything else because I felt it building again. I'd never felt like this before. Ever. And I knew why. It was him. And I don't know if it was his skill, or the feelings I had for him, but I felt myself climbing again. He kept moving. Over and over and I was there the exact same time I felt him get even bigger. Then he lets out the sexiest, manliest fucking sound I'd ever heard.

THIRTY ONE

Logan

"So I think I want to meet her," I said, looking up from my textbook. We were in my bed; I sat against the headboard, shirtless. She didn't let me wear shirts. Ever.

She was on the opposite end of the bed. She did this so she could look at me shirtless without making an effort. I did whatever she said.

Balls. Pockets.

"Who?" she asked.

"My sister—or whatever. I think I want to know more about her."

She sat up and scooted closer to me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "What have I got to lose, right?"

Everything. I had everything to lose.

***

I called Dad to let him know we were coming. He practically choked on his words when I told him I was bringing Amanda home. He jokingly asked if she was pregnant. I laughed it off, remembering how she wigged out after our first time. That was three weeks ago. I was clean, and I knew she was on the pill because I saw her taking them. Still—it was stupid that we got so lost in the moment that we didn't discuss it until after the fact.

Two hours later we were at the grocery store near home. I pushed a cart while she pulled items of the shelf and placed them in there. I told her we'd probably just order a pizza for dinner. She said she wanted to cook for us.

She walked in front of me, her short shorts barely covering her ass. I watched it sway from side to side—hypnotized by the movement. It's probably why I wasn't paying attention when my cart ran into the side of someone.

My eyes lifted, "Sorry," I tried to say, but my words died. And so did my heart. At least for a second.

"Logan?" the woman in front of me said. She took two steps until she was standing only feet away. She looked me up and down. I didn't blink. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. "It is you," she whispered.

She was older. But then again, so was I. If you took away the effects of time, she looked the same. The same drugged up, fucked up person that carried half my genes. The only difference was her eyes. They looked tired. Or maybe that's just how the seven-year-old me remembers her. Maybe I remember the fire in them. The crinkle in her eyes was always due to the anger inside her. She never smiled. I remembered that then—that she never smiled. Not when I was a kid. But right now—she was smiling. It didn't make sense.