Lucky Me Lucky You | Clyde Logan x Reader

Chapter 9

You awoke to cheerful birdsong and Clyde's partial arm draped over your waist. The t-shirt you'd worn to bed was bunched up on your torso. You didn't know if that had been Clyde's doing, or just an effect of sleep. He was spooned behind you, his thighs tucked against yours. And though he was a furnace, one of you had kicked off most of the blankets sometime in the night.

You put a hand on his partial arm and smoothed your fingers over the soft skin.

"I thought I'd used up all my luck in Iraq," he'd said last night as you pulled his prosthetic off for him. You'd both been in the bathroom, getting ready for a shared shower.

You placed the prosthetic on the counter. "I never thought I had much."

"I'm beginning to suspect I have more than I guessed."

"Me too," you fondly said and put your arms around him.

He'd kissed the top of your head and held you tight. Behind him, the water for the shower had been warming.

You now wanted to turn over and look at his dozing face. You almost couldn't believe he was lying with you, that he'd slept next to you. He'd been so sweet and attentive last night, so concerned that you'd be sore. You'd laughed and said that was unavoidable. You pointedly looked at his soft cock hanging heavy between his long legs as confirmation of your statement.

There was no getting around it. If you wanted to continue fucking Clyde, you'd have to acclimate to that big dick. You were sure you were up for the challenge.

He'd blushed and tried to hide his face, but you refused to let him. You kissed him and ran your hands up his sides. The raised flesh on the right side of his ribs—indeed, a tattoo—had caught your attention again. Since he was naked, you could see it was in the shape of an oversized dog tag.

"What is this?" you'd asked as you traced the black ink.

"Meat tag." He turned to the side and lifted his arm. "That's my DOD ID, blood type, and religion."

You'd put your palm over it and raised yourself on tip-toe to kiss him. His service in the Army was all over his body, from his missing left hand and scars—even the ones you couldn't see—to his tattoos. He'd kissed you lovingly as if trying to lessen a blow. But you weren't the one who'd survived Iraq.

You turned your head on the pillow and found your neck a little stiff. You flexed your shoulder to stretch the muscles, but it didn't really help. If you kept relaxed, it didn't bother you much.

The same could be said for your pussy. You could feel the delicious tenderness between your legs. He'd been quite considerate in the shower. He'd used his big wet hand to clean all your come and the condom lube from between your legs. He'd teased you a little and trailed open-mouthed kisses up your neck. You'd returned the favor, happy to get your soapy hands all over his burly body.

Just thinking about it now had you squeezing your stiff thighs together. From behind you, Clyde sighed and lazily mouthed at the nape of your neck. He then purred and snuggled his hips against your rear. You could feel through your underwear the ridge of his cock resting in the cleft of your ass.

"You called me your boyfriend," he hoarsely murmured.

You grinned. "I did."

"Did you mean it?"

You turned over and winced a little as you jostled your neck. Before you could reply—because, hell yes, you'd meant it—he stated you were hurt. There was no point in denying it.

"What's wrong, angel?"

"Neck." You tilted your head on the pillow to test how sore you were. It wasn't bad, really. A little Advil would do you just fine.