“Oh, Logan…” she whispered as his hands explored her body, his fingers caressing along her ribs and up between her breasts to her neck, where he...kissed her again. His teeth grazed her collar bones, sending a shiver down her spine. Andrea brought her knee up to rest against his side, urging him to continue. “Who’s Logan?” he said between kisses along her clavicle. This should have startled Andrea, but instead the question intrigued her. Leaning her head back slightly, she could hardly see the. Emma was, I suppose like her body, not a child but not quite a woman either. Her friend, Emma One as I now laughingly called her, was definitely a woman physically but probably less mature than Emma Two. I knew from when I was seeing Tracey, Emma One's mum, that she was devoted to her daughter, whereas Emma Two's parents seemed, shall we say, less ideal, leaving her to virtually bring herself up. That probably accounted for her more mature attitude. It was an attitude that I hoped would save. More

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