Chapter Twenty

RYAN

"So how's everything? Bet you're glad to have your couch back."

Emerson had agreed to meet him in a coffee shop across the street from his apartment after work. Ryan counted it as a win to get him out of his comfort zone.

"It's fine." Emerson kept his gaze fixed to the cup in his hand. "I was surprised to hear from you."

Under the booth, Ryan knocked his foot against Emerson's. "I said we'd keep in touch, and I meant it."

"I know, but…people say stuff they don't always mean."

"Not friends."

Cheeks red, Emerson ducked his head. "I-I'm glad to see you. It's quiet in the apartment now without you."

"You need to get out more than just once or twice a week for a meeting."

"I am. Really."

Dubious, Ryan had to ask, even though Emerson didn't lie. "Are you telling me the truth?"

Emerson flushed. "Yeah. I've been trying. I went to Whole Foods the other day myself instead of getting a delivery."

"That's a great step forward."

Emerson met his eyes briefly. "I met a guy. We were waiting in line for the deli, and he started talking to me. He, uh, asked for my number."

That made Ryan stupid happy. "And? I hope you gave it to him."

Emerson lifted a shoulder. "Yeah, but…how do I tell him I'm not," he lowered his voice, "into sex?"

"I guess you don't? Why not just try being friends first?"

"Like you and Logan?"

"Yeah. Like us. One thing I've learned is, you can never have too many friends."

Emerson drank his coffee. "And things are still good with you two?"

Ryan couldn't keep the smile off his face. "Yeah. Still good."

* * *

He and Logan had fallen into a comfortable routine, where he'd cook dinner most nights and they'd talk about their day as they ate. Afterward, they'd watch a little television, with Logan stretched out on the couch, his head pillowed in Ryan's lap. It was a change from the prior months they'd lived together, with Logan watching every move he made, and Ryan occasionally getting high after work and feeling like shit at Logan's praise for conquering his struggles. He'd lie and pretend all was well, then retreat and remain mostly silent.

Instead of sneaking off with coworkers after their shifts to snort a few lines, he stayed at the clinic, talking with people, learning their stories and sharing his own. He gained strength from them, and they listened to him talk about his own personal battles. He'd returned to the after-school center and was able to help some of the kids with their homework—using his skills in writing that hadn't yet become rusty.

To his surprise, that night Logan was already in the apartment when he opened the door. Normally, he didn't get home until close to seven—sometimes later if he had to entertain a client or attend a function.

"I made reservations for dinner. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Okay, bossy," Ryan laughed.

Logan's eyes twinkled. "And get dressed up."

A slow wink set his stomach tumbling. For days…weeks, if he would admit it, he'd found himself watching Logan—his strong hands and the way he held his mug of coffee, the tension of the hard muscles in his thighs as he walked across the room, the slow sweep of his tongue over full lips after tasting a delicious forkful of food. At night he dreamed of what sex with Logan would be like—passionate and fiery, no doubt.

As he got naked to change for dinner, he grew slightly faint imagining Logan's capable hands on his body, coaxing him to a blinding climax with his lips…his tongue…

Stop it, you idiot. Stop dreaming.

He'd saved a few of his suits from his days at the firm, and though they were years old, they would have to do. He slid a belt around his waist, noting he'd regained most of the weight he'd lost since his recovery. When he joined Logan in the living room, he was met with an admiring gaze that scanned him from head to toe and gave him the confidence he needed.

"I'm ready."

"You sure are." Logan grinned. "I'm not kidding when I say this is the healthiest you've ever looked since I've known you."

"I certainly feel better." Ryan thought for a moment. "Maybe it's because I never really knew who I was, aside from the person who needed to get high to make it through the day. I'm finally learning to like myself."

Logan kissed his cheek. "I like this version of you too."

At Petite Boucherie on Christopher Street, they slid into a corner table. It was a small bistro, unpretentious and charming. Ryan was more at ease in a quiet place like this than the high-powered restaurants he used to frequent.

"This is very pretty," Ryan remarked, drinking in the sights and sounds of life in the city—a life he'd almost forgotten existed. "I've been to the one uptown, which is much grander, but I prefer this."

"So do I." Logan's eyes glowed over the delicate floral arrangement in the center of the table. "It's much more intimate."

Ryan's mouth dried. Inexplicably nervous, he downed half the water from his glass. The busboy refilled it. "Yeah."

Smooth, Ryan. You're way out of your league here.

Hoping to quell his dancing nerves, he scanned the menu. "Everything looks good. What're you having?"

"Onion soup and steak frites ."

He set his menu on the table. "Same for me."

Their server approached. "Good evening. I'm Martin. May I take your drink order?" He stood poised.

"Club soda for me," Logan said, never taking his eye off Ryan.

"Same, please."

After Martin hurried off, Logan hitched his chair closer. "I'm very proud of you. I know it hasn't been easy, but I see a tremendous change."

"You do?" Was it silly or childish to wish for praise? But Ryan knew hearing it from Logan meant more. Logan Silver wasn't a man to hand out indiscriminate compliments.

"I know how hard it is for you to trust people. But you're not the same man who came to live with me last year. You laugh more, and you're eager to talk instead of sitting silent, all dark and gloomy."

Martin returned with their drinks, and they placed their orders. Ryan buttered a piece of bread and chewed it, reveling in the salty taste of the spread and the crunchy texture of the crust. He'd learned his love of cooking as a child, watching all the shows on television. His mother had often been too tired when she came home from her shift at the local Walmart, so he'd make dinner. Once he started using, his tastebuds had numbed, food becoming nothing more than a necessity to function. Preparing dinner for himself and Logan every night was helping in his recovery.

"I'm trying. The people at the clinic have helped me so much. I wasn't sure what to expect, but certainly not how personally involved they've become in my life. And I'm glad about it. I thought I'd be pushing them away, but instead they make me want to open up."

Their soups were set in front of them, but Logan made no move to pick up his spoon. "We all want the same thing." He grinned, and his eyes danced. "Let me rephrase. We all want you well and healthy. I want something more." The smile faded. "And I'm not saying that to pressure you. I just want you to know how I feel."

God, I'd like to know how you feel. Over me…inside me. I want you to fuck me until I'm wrecked for days.

A flutter let loose deep in his belly. His blood rushed hot, and an almost painful ache swelled from within. Ryan could almost taste the heat of Logan's kisses. He must've relived their hookup that night a thousand times. He wished he had the courage to tell Logan how badly he wanted to be with him. Instead, he dipped his head.

Their meal was perfect, the steak juicy and luscious and the fries hot and crisp. They'd split a dessert between them, an apple crumble with homemade vanilla ice cream—and was there anything sexier than Logan putting their shared fork in between his lips and licking it?

Not in his life.

Buoyed by the fact that he could enjoy a dinner out without drinking, Ryan sank into the back seat of their car for the ride home with Logan beside him. Was it his imagination, or had Logan inched closer? He didn't mind it—in fact, he slanted a sideways glance, hoping to see Logan's expression, but the car was dim and Logan sat in profile. His face was unsmiling. A dichotomy of hard cuts of jaw and cheekbones softened by full lips and dark hair, frosted with silver at the temples and falling over his brow.

In his past, sex had become second to survival—he'd always tap danced on the edge of destruction, fearing that everything within his grasp could crumble at any second. Yet between Logan and him, no matter his state of mind, a current of attraction waited to bloom, from the spark always sizzling to a full-blown conflagration.

Logan put an arm around him and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I desire you."

Not want. Logan said desire . Maybe it meant the same thing to Logan, but for Ryan, it went further. Those three words sent a thrill up his spine that blossomed into a need so great, he almost couldn't breathe.

They made it home, and Logan locked the door behind them. "I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

They would often give each other a casual kiss good night, but this time Logan cupped his face and settled his mouth over Ryan's. Ryan sighed, pleasure washing over him in steady, pounding waves, and he slid his tongue into Logan's mouth. A needy sound escaped Logan, but instead of deepening the kiss, he broke away, chest heaving, face flushed.

"Logan? What is it?"

Shocking Ryan, instead of answering, Logan turned and fled, his footsteps fading as he put distance between them. Ryan heard the sound of a door slamming, and he touched his kiss-swollen lips.

"Fuck," he groaned, his blood on fire, body aching. He walked slowly to his room and shed his clothes, looking at himself naked in the mirror. His dick was full, and his ass clenched tight against the pulsing throb of his hunger.

You want him.

No, you desire him.

Want was purely physical, a need that could be satisfied without anything more.

Desire transcended that. It was visceral and all-encompassing. A quest to learn more and sink into the other person until they became one. He'd never desired anyone but Logan.

If I go to him now, everything changes.

Who was he kidding? Everything had changed the moment Logan first touched him at the Marquee. He'd burrowed under his skin and into his brain, and Ryan couldn't forget him even if he'd wanted to. Which he didn't. Logan was a fever he had little desire to cure. A hunger he'd never be able to sate.

Logan will always be my greatest desire. Tonight he needs to know I'm ready.

He turned the doorknob to Logan's bedroom and heard the shower running. Steam rose from behind the glass, and he stepped inside. The cool rainwater scent that clung to Logan's skin washed over him, and a fully drenched Logan stood transfixed, his green eyes wary but focused on Ryan's face.

"Ryan…what're you doing?"

Ryan joined him under the spray. "You said you desire me. Now it's my turn. You're the only one I desire. I want you. Now. Tonight."

He reached for the body wash and soaped himself up, then rinsed off. He turned off the water, and surprised by his own boldness, pushed Logan to the tiled wall. Everything in the world settled into place when their wet bodies touched. Logan's stiff cock hit his, and the friction of all that naked skin sent him reeling. Logan's hot breath exploded in a rush, and he clung to Ryan.

"I don't understand."

"It's time. It's more than sex." Ryan nuzzled under Logan's jaw, licking the stray drops of water. "I want you to make love to me," he whispered, and at those words, Logan's cock twitched and swelled further, pressing into Ryan's belly. "I want your mouth on me, your tongue, your hands. I want to smell like you all over. I need you inside me. Logan, please. Fuck me until I can't move."

Logan groaned and kissed his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'm alive."

Eyes locked, they dried off, and Logan took his hand and led him to his huge bed. They sank onto the mattress together, a tangle of damp limbs and wet hair. Logan spread him out beneath him.

"You are so beautiful." Heat crept up Ryan's face, and Logan grinned. "And so adorable when you blush."

"Stop talking and kiss me." Ryan grasped him around the neck and pulled him close. "I've been thinking about this all evening. What you'd feel like. How you'd taste." Logan's eyes narrowed, but not enough to mask the blaze of lust. Then his mouth claimed Ryan's and everything made sense. Lips clung, and their tongues tangled and battled. A fierce wildness rose within him. "I've thought about this for weeks. Tonight I need to know. Logan, do it. Now."

"Are you kidding? I've waited for this, and I'm going to take my time."

His face was in shadow, and yet his eyes and smile gleamed. Logan dipped his head, and a warm tongue trailed a torturous wet path over Ryan's quivering body. Every place Logan touched ached upon his departure, and Ryan squirmed.

"Please, oh God, I'm gonna lose my mind."

Logan chuckled against his belly. "I'll catch it for you, but I can't promise to give it back. I want every piece of you. Including this."

Ryan propped himself up on his elbows to see Logan's dark head at his groin, and cried out when Logan took the dripping head of his cock between his full lips and sucked.

"Oh fuck, oh God." Ryan tried to stem the rush of his orgasm. Logan squeezed the base of his dick.

"Not yet," he whispered, then mouthed along his groin, sucking the crease between his hip and thigh. "Wait for me."

The intensity subsided, and Logan slid his mouth down Ryan's throbbing shaft, his tongue performing acrobatics. Reeling with the fire pouring through his blood, Ryan closed his eyes, and a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors swirled in front of him. He was bursting with life and desire and had never felt this free.

Logan began to move in earnest, his hand joining the movements of his tongue, and this time at his cries, Logan let him climax, swallowing everything he pumped out. Ryan opened his eyes to see Logan sitting on his heels, licking his lips. A slow, deliciously thrilling grin broke across his face.

Was there ever a man so sexy? So perfect?

Logan climbed over him. "You taste like heaven." Ryan touched his face, and Logan stilled. The air crackled between them, and Ryan trembled even as his heart pounded.

"You've given me so much."

Logan's forehead touched his, his lips resting on Ryan's cheek. "Not nearly enough. I want to give you more. I want to give you everything."

His engorged cock hit Ryan's belly, and though he was sensitive from his orgasm, the nerves raw and open at the surface, he craved for Logan to take him apart again.

"Please." He clawed at Logan's shoulders to bring him closer. If Ryan had the ability, he'd take him in whole and fit him like a second skin to make Logan part of him.

Grave-faced, Logan reached for his legs, pulling them wide, and buried his face in between, lapping at his hole. A soft, wet tongue pushed in him, and he quaked as gooseflesh rose over his skin. Ryan felt pulled tight as a bow, trembling with anticipation, and his hands clutched the bedsheets as his head thrashed side to side.

"God, you taste even better than I thought." Logan's growly words vibrated against his skin. He licked him over and over, his mouth on Ryan's sac and on his now-rigid cock. Everywhere. There was no place to run. To hide. He was flayed open for the world to see.

"Logan," Ryan cried out, and his vision blurred as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He burst into a million pieces, falling apart yet made whole by Logan's touch.

The drawer slammed, and Logan's slick, cool fingers entered him. "I know it's been a while, so I'll be gentle."

"Don't," he insisted. "I want it hard. I want to feel."

Logan laughed and kissed him until they both gasped for breath. "You will. Trust me."

And he did. He trusted Logan with his heart. No one had ever kept him so safe. So cared for. Ryan gazed up at him, the man he'd tried to forget, but even through the worst of his time, the only one who'd stayed and waited on the periphery of his life, there to catch him when he fell. And when Logan pushed past his rim, sinking inch by inch, filling him up to the breaking point and beyond, he knew the truth with startling clarity.

This was love.

He loved Logan.

But he was left no time to dwell on that momentous thought. Logan began to move, thrusting deep, snapping his hips, imprinting his body to Ryan's. Ryan clutched Logan's shoulders, and Logan gathered him close, settling fully into Ryan. Never had he been so consumed, so owned, and he welcomed Logan into him, urging him on.

"Logan, more. I need you." His sweat-soaked body melted into Logan's, and they became one.

"Ryan," Logan moaned, the broken, needy sound falling from his lips like a prayer. Clamped tight in his ass, Logan's dick throbbed and pulsed as he came. They fell to the bed, Logan's weight a welcome strength on top of him, and they lay chest to chest, hearts beating in sync.

"What the hell was that?" he murmured after recovering his breath.

Logan kissed his cheek. "That was us."