My heart was racing as I looked myself over a few more times in the mirror. A red tank top clung to my body, covering slightly the top of my jean shorts that were cut off just below my ass. I wanted to look sexy for Logan, I even avoided wearing a bra. I did not have that big of breasts, so I could get away with it, but they were still there and they were still noticeable, my tiny nipples perked up ever so slightly. The knocks became louder so I rushed over to open the door. Logan was on the other side, a t-shirt with some sports logo on it covered his body, but it was cut off at the arms, showing off his slightly muscular shoulders. A pair of shorts hung just at his knees, his legs perfect all the way down into his tennis shoes. He reminded me of why I was okay with just kissing behind the bleachers and being kept a secret. “You look nice,” he said with a slight smile across his face. “So do you,” I responded. “You ready to go,” he asked, spinning his keys between his fingers. But, on that particular night he could not just watch her from across the room. He stayed close, so close that he could feel the heat of her body as she spoke to him. Her words were a desperate attempt to delay what they both grew tired of fighting. Arturo had laughed, welcoming the challenge in her eyes. She would not easily forget his coldness. “Of what importance is that to me?” he had taunted. “I am Brazilian.” In Portuguese, a sweet and gracious language, he whispered in her ear. “You feel my spirit as I feel yours, right from the start.” His voice was like silk and dripped sex. His lips, light like a feather, briefly touched hers for the first time. “My skin is touched by the sun Gods. Their heat is what keeps my blood hot, but that matters not,” he said, letting his finger play with a curl of her hair. He gently placed the palm of his hand at the base of her back, just short of where it curved into her lovely bottom. He applied no pressure. And, he continued, “When I claim.
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