Chapter 9

9

I woke up disoriented.

Morning brightness drenched the backs of my lids in gentle orange. But my room didn’t get direct sunlight, and my bed was lumpy while this mattress was a fucking cloud . I squinted my eyes open. A high ceiling arched above me, wooden beams crossing each other as a big-ass fan spun in lazy circles.

Oh. Logan’s room.

Logan, who was not where he’d been last night—right next to me.

His side of the bed was empty, sheets tangled and a dented pillow precariously close to the edge. Time? My momentary flash of panic subsided when the alarm clock on the nightstand showed a seven in front. Books were stacked up beside the clock, leadership guides mixed in with novels, Simply Managing in peaceful coexistence with Kill Your Friends . Logan didn’t seem like the type for a morning-after case of cold feet. So. Bathroom?

Oh. I smelled coffee . And bacon.

The murmur of voices suggested that Logan and Tom were downstairs. More importantly, they must have ordered breakfast. I threw off the sheets and scrambled for some clothes, grimacing at my boxers. Option A: recycle. Option B: embrace the breeze. Option C: go shopping in Logan’s drawers.

I was pretty sure he would laugh about me claiming a five-finger discount. Still, it felt a bit too intimate. Yeah, I’d had his dick in my mouth last night, his taste on my tongue, and his fingers in my hair. But wearing his underwear? That’s where I drew the line.

So I pulled on my shorts and stuffed yesterday’s boxers into a pocket, slung my T-shirt over my shoulder, dabbed some toothpaste on my tongue, and then trudged downstairs, the bitter-rich scent of coffee my North Star. Logan and Tom were out on the terrace, presiding over a huge spread with fruit salads, omelets, bacon, cake, croissants, and a jug of coffee bound to outclass the dishwater they served in the staff kitchen. The view of Logan’s broad back was its own kind of treat.

“G’morning,” I mumbled, shielding my eyes against the light.

Tom waved a pastry in the air. “Look alive, sunshine!”

“Hey.” Logan turned to look at me, then patted the space next to him on the lounge sofa with a sweet, quiet smile. Whatever worries I might have had about an awkward aftermath evaporated. “I was about to wake you. Coffee?”

“You’re my new favorite person.” I sank down beside him, close enough for our elbows to brush. “I’ll put you in my will.”

“Sweet.” His grin pressed twin craters into his cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to own a gently used wetsuit.”

“Better than a gently used condom,” Tom said.

“We all have to do our part for a sustainable future.” I let my fingers linger over Logan’s as he handed me a mug of coffee, returning his smile. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Help yourself to some food, yeah?” He nodded at the array on the side table. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so we ordered one of everything.”

I assessed my options. “Will you tell Nia if I have a piece of the arepa dulce? The cake thing over there.”

“What’s it to her?” Tom asked.

“We encourage each other to make healthy choices. This?” I pointed at a slice of the sweet, dense cake made from cornmeal and coconut milk. “Is the opposite.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Logan said.

“Awesome.” I gulped down another mouthful of coffee, about to serve myself when Logan slid the cake onto a plate for me. “Favorite person,” I repeated. Even though it was a joke— obviously —I ducked my head immediately after to will down an inopportune blush.

For fuck’s sake, get it together. It’s just sex.

The bubbling warmth in my chest begged to differ.

“I am so proud of you!” Nia fanned herself. “My little boy, all grown up.”

“You’re a riot,” I said flatly and began laying out fins. Lined up like soldiers ready for an inspection, each pair needed to be matched with two tanks, a regulator, and a dive vest. It was a routine we always followed for double dives, when we served a boat lunch in between. “Also, I am not little.”

“That’s what the neighbor’s boy said.” Nia sniggered. “And lo and behold, he wasn’t.”

“Oh my God .”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here all day.”

Against my better judgment, I laughed. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yet I’m not the one who got laid last night.”

“That’s a first.”

“Sure is.” She shook her head, mild disbelief tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Look at us—it’s like someone flipped the script. Like, I drive Tom back, and all I get for my trouble is a kiss goodnight. Meanwhile, you slink back home in yesterday’s clothes sporting a love bite.”

“That obvious?” I touched the slightly tender spot at the junction of my neck and shoulder, blinking away the ghost impression of Logan’s hot breath on my skin, his body pressing me into the mattress. God .

“Just a little.” Nia held her thumb and forefinger apart by half an inch. “Not like anyone will care, though.”

”Guess not.” I nudged her on my way to grab the masks. “Anyway, enough about me. Tom’s interested—just seems he’s someone who likes to take things a little more slowly.”

“One,” she said, “good to know. And two, we haven’t talked nearly enough about you. I want details, my friend.”

Details, yeah. Details like the slight scrape of stubble against my thigh, or the slow slide of Logan’s fingertips tracing patterns down my lower back. Darkness wrapping around us as jungle sounds drifted through the open car windows. The taste of salt on his skin and lips, a hint of beer on his tongue. My hand around the nape of his neck.

I exhaled and tried for a casual tone. “Let’s just say it was a double feature, and I woke up feeling a lot happier than usual.”

“Huh,” was all Nia said, in a voice that carried a strange note of speculation. I wasn’t going to ask. Nope.

“What?” I asked. Well, damn.

“You stayed the night.” It landed somewhere between a question and a statement, and I did not like where this was heading.

“Astute observation,” I said.

“You never stay the night.”

“‘Never’ is a big word when referring to something that happens a couple times a year. If that.”

“You’ve also never hooked up with a resort guest,” Nia continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “And don’t tell me it’s because you didn’t have the opportunity—you did. So that’s two lines you crossed for Logan.”

“Is there any way I can stop this conversation from happening?”

“Not a chance.”

I took a great amount of care attaching a regulator to a vest and tried to project indifference. “Then what’s your point?”

“You like him.”

“What is this—Groundhog Day? Pretty sure we’ve been over this. ”

“That was before you took my advice and got laid—good job, by the way. And then stayed the night.”

Since Nia wasn’t about to let up, I exhaled a heavy sigh and turned to face her. “Look—yes, I like him. So?”

Nia was quiet for a moment. “He’s only here for the month.”

Damn her for knowing me a little too well. I fought the queasy twist of my stomach. “I know what this is.”

“Do you?” Concern colored her question, taking the wind right out of my sails.

“I do.” I did . “It’s… an extended hookup. A no-strings-attached vacation special. No tearful goodbye at the airport, I promise.”

She pursed her lips and studied me, a few seconds sliding away before her face relaxed into a tiny smirk. “All right. I’m just watching out for my boy, is all. Given your shocking lack of experience with casual sex—or any sex, really?—”

“Fuck off,” I muttered.

She tossed me a grin that was soft around the edges. “Did I hit a nerve there, babe?”

I veered towards a flippant reply, then stopped myself. This was Nia— the only person other than Katie who still truly knew me, what with how I’d alienated everyone else. I didn’t usually put up a front with her. Why was I tempted now?

“Yeah. Maybe you did.” I kept my voice low and rested my hand on a tank, the metal cool to the touch. The dive shop draped its familiarity around my shoulders. “You know that Michael was my first, and I think… It’s like somehow, that’s still my reference.”

Nia stepped close to wrap an arm around my waist. “Oh, honey.”

“Like…” I squinted at the outline of sunlight on the floor, a rectangle shaped by the open doorway. “I had a couple of hookups back in Miami, after him, and then a few more here, but I’d always get these flashbacks of ‘Michael used to want it like this’ or ‘he didn’t want me doing that’.”

“You never told me that,” she said after a beat, voice hushed to mimic the muted light.

“It’s not something I particularly care to think about. ”

“That’s fair.” She squeezed my waist. “Why tell me now?”

I sucked in a steady breath, almost like when I was underwater. My lungs filled for a wide, airy feeling. “I hardly thought about Michael last night. With Logan.”

“That’s…” Nia paused. “Good? Surely that’s good.”

“I guess so,” I said slowly. It was, right? A sign that I was shaking off the ghost. Finally walking free, not simply replacing one obsession with another. Because that’s what Michael had been—a drug, an addiction.

Logan was… different. So was I.

Yeah—it was a good thing.

Logan and Tom had opted to skip today’s dives in favor of working on their respective theses. We’d made no plans beyond a generic ‘see you later,’ so when we returned from the afternoon dive, it was a surprise to find them sitting on the pier, feet in the water.

Once the other guests had trickled away, they got up to help us with the gear. “You sure?” I asked Logan in an undertone, and he sketched a bow, grinning behind his sunglasses.

“At your service.”

“That’s not really how it works, you know?” I said even as I passed him a bundle of fins.

“It is now.” He glanced at Nia and Tom, standing just far enough apart to avoid suspicion, then back at me. “Good dive?”

“Seems so. I stayed on the boat.” I shouldered a vest with an attached tank, its bottom bumping against my ass. “Nia had to keep Jordan from sticking his fingers into every hole he found.”

Sunlight bounced off the brink of Logan’s nose and caught in his smile. “That’s the guy who won his certification in a poker game, right?”

“The very same.”

“Right.” Logan followed me towards the stairs. “For the record, I’m trying to rein in a pun about sticking fingers in holes. ”

I bit down on a grin. “Your restraint is admirable.”

“And don’t you forget it.” He paused. “Hey, how do you think eels feel about their reputation as the creepy uncles of the ocean?”

“Annoyed, most likely. I think they’re misunderstood.”

“Doesn’t help that they look like underwater sock puppets.”

“Fair point.” I tried to keep from panting too obviously. One step at a time. The stairs up to the shop stretched into eternity, and maybe I should consider hitting the staff gym once in a blue moon. “Easy to underestimate them, though. They’re actually quite important for the marine ecosystem.”

“Yeah?” Logan sounded genuinely interested.

“Yeah. They’re like the clean-up crew and pest control, all rolled into one. Eating dead stuff and making sure no one species gets out of hand.”

“Until someone pokes a finger in their hole,” Logan said, a smile showing in his voice. “Then it’s game over.”

“Look, if someone stuck a finger into my bedroom, I’d bite too.”

Logan’s laugh was a quick, bright burst. He didn’t seem out of breath at all, the bastard. “That so?”

“Wouldn’t you?” I asked, pausing for a moment to take in the view. A stiff breeze whipped up whitecaps on the waves, the sea’s deep blue contrasting with the vibrant green of tropical foliage.

“Depends on who’s doing the poking,” Logan said.

I glanced back for a little smirk. “That an invitation?”

“Very much so.”

Pleasant heat sparked in my chest, nothing to do with the lazy warmth of the afternoon. “I may hold you to that.”

“Please do.”

We were silent while we conquered the last stretch of stairs. I unlocked the door to the dive shop, a waft of neoprene and dive gear cleaner welcoming me as I stepped inside, Logan close behind. After the day’s brightness, my eyes needed several moments to adjust to the dim interior.

I set the tank down with a clunk while Logan dropped his stack of fins. Maybe I reached out first or maybe he did—my hand sliding into his hair to draw him in, his arm curling around my back, rucking up my T-shirt.

“Hi,” he murmured.

I gave his bottom lip a brief tug with my teeth, then pulled back to ask, “What are you doing tonight?”

“You? If you’re up for it.” His smile was deliberately cheesy, gleaming in the half-light as his fingers dipped below the waistband of my shorts. I inhaled sharply through my nose.

“Your place or mine?”

”My bed is bigger. Or so I’ve heard.” Logan rubbed our noses together, oddly sweet, before he caught my mouth for a too-brief kiss. “Plus,” he added, “Tom should be out, at least if Nia is up for a night dive with him.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“It’s the island edition of Netflix and chill.”

“Oh, trust me, Nia’s gonna be up for it.” I grinned, and Logan grinned back.

“Excellent. We’ll have the cabin to ourselves then.”

“You know…” I ducked my head and sent him a sly glance from underneath my lashes, keeping my voice casual and light. “I’ve always wanted to fuck in a pool. Figure this could be my once-in-a-lifetime chance to make it happen.”

Logan swallowed. Christ, I had the flirting skills of a chipmunk, but with Logan staring at me like I was all he could see, I felt damn near drunk on power. He cleared his throat, his expression teasing at just a hint of dimples. “I mean, yeah. I’ve always been a sucker for a good workout.”

“Thought you’d see it my way.” I gave his ass a friendly squeeze just as Nia laughed outside.

“It crossed my mind,” she said, her words drifting through the open door. “But if we charged extra for dumb questions, our ratings would drop like a lead weight.”

“Well,” Tom said. “You’ve more patience for fools than me, that’s for sure.”

“It’s a non-negotiable job requirement,” Nia said .

Logan huffed out a small sound of amusement, his voice pitched so I’d be the only one to hear. “I’m guessing you scored low on that section of your job interview, didn’t you?”

I pressed a grin against his throat. “You implying I’m a bad instructor?”

“Not at all.” He skimmed a broad palm up the length of my spine before it came to rest between my shoulder blades, warm and heavy. “I’ve been very satisfied with your efforts to make this an enjoyable stay.”

“That so?” I angled my hips forward and could feel him half-hard. Same.

He inhaled, nose dragging through my hair. “Yeah. So. Six thirty? I’ll order dinner.”

I weighed whether to protest that I wasn’t his sugar baby. He’d let me buy our beers last night, though, and in the grand scheme of the bill he’d face at the end of his stay, room service for two would be a tiny blip.

“Okay,” I said, and it felt bigger than just a simple word.

“Any preferences?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know the menu.” At his questioning look, I added, “Never had the food they serve to guests.”

A momentary frown crossed his features before they smoothed into a smile. “All right, then we’ll order when you’re there.”

Or you just pick something that you think I’ll like , I almost said. But, no. I wasn’t the kind of guy who let his… something, his whatever , make my choices.

“Six thirty,” I confirmed instead, with another squeeze of Logan’s truly spectacular ass. I couldn’t wait to see if it lived up to how it felt, to study all of him with enough light to map him out by more than touch alone. Maybe I should bring my camera. He’d offered, after all.

We stepped apart just as Nia entered the shop. My flushed cheeks were sure to give us away, and predictably, she raised a brow.

“You’re not subtle,” she informed us. “Also, Richard’s been making the rounds today. So, you know. Look sharp.”

“Noted,” I said .

“Control freak on the loose?” Logan asked.

“Always,” I told him. “If micromanagement had a nano-scale brother, Richard would be first in line for an award.”

Logan chuckled, eyes thoughtful, and while I shouldn’t be this candid with a guest… Well, he was starting to be a bit more than that.

Even if our time was limited.

Logan had gone to the trouble of using sticky notes to hide the prices in the room service menu. I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or charmed.

“Saw it in Venice,” he told me, a grin flirting around his mouth. “Back in high school. I went to this fancy restaurant with my girlfriend—that was before I figured out I was into guys, obviously. And they gave her a menu that had all the prices removed.”

“How…” I looked for the right word.

“Backwards?” Logan suggested.

I grinned. “Quaint.”

We were silent for a minute as we chose our food, common sense telling me to steer clear of anything that listed truffle or caviar. Steak, a side salad, and a slice of lemon pie couldn’t possibly break the bank.

While Logan placed our order, I walked to the edge of the terrace. The sea stretched out below and caught the last of the sunlight in ripples of gold. Everything seemed on hold for just a moment as the sun hung suspended above the horizon.

“Done,” Logan announced from behind me. “Should be here in half an hour or so.”

I turned, hands in my pockets, and smiled at him. The fading light flowed around his silhouette and painted him in an amber glow. Stupidly, my throat constricted with want, as though I was the lead in some nineties rom-com. Jesus .

“This is the only place outside the US I’ve been to,” I said once I got a fucking grip. “What’s it like? ”

“The world?” Logan’s mouth quirked. “Big.”

“Let’s start with Venice.”

“It’s…” He stepped into the space next to me, our bare arms brushing. “Like a beautiful, slightly cheesy postcard that’s come to life. Only it’s a bit tipsy.”

“Tipsy?”

“Sinking ever so slightly,” he clarified. “So it’s always leaning to one side. Part of the charm, though. And you walk along these narrow, medieval canals, and it can feel like you’re walking through a different time.”

“Not too crowded, then?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah—tourists galore.” Logan shrugged one shoulder. “Gondolas, fake handbags from China sold on the streets, crazy coffee prices in St. Mark’s Square… The city actually made a push to keep cruise ship guests away since they just clog up the alleys, buy a couple of cheap souvenirs, and then return to their ships for dinner. Does nothing for the local economy.”

Well, not like we were faring that much better here. I kept my mouth shut about that and asked, “But no cars, right?”

“No, just boats and a lot of walking.” He shot me a smile, something wistful caught in its corners. “And you can still find the real Venice—duck into the quiet side alleys or make sure you’re out early or really late. That’s Venice like in the movies.”

“I’d love to see that one day.” It was out before I could censor my words, and I looked away immediately after. The sky had softened to a mix of tangerine and lavender, bleeding into deep indigo at the edges.

Logan took a moment to respond. When he did, his voice was quiet, hardly rising above the high-pitched trill of crickets. “There’s a Prescott Hotel in Venice—got the brochure right inside.”

Of course there was. The brochure was also laid out in our dive shop, along with similar ones for Prescott Hotels in places like London, Dubai, Tokyo, or the French Riviera. Since my marketable skills revolved around herding divers like cats, I stood no chance of making it there. More realistic would be one of the Prescott Resorts in the Maldives, Bali, or the Bahamas.

I was fine here, though. Dominica had been kind to me.

“I know, yeah.” I kept my tone light. “Bit outside my budget.”

“No employee discount?”

“Doubt it. Even if there were, I wouldn’t want to blow most of my savings on the flight.”

Three years ago, the admission would have embarrassed me. Not anymore. I worked six days a week and easily exceeded the standard forty hours, especially when high season kept us on our toes. No, I didn’t have a swanky degree to my name, but I wasn’t a slacker by any means.

Logan blew out a soft breath. “Right.”

“Guess a couple thousand bucks would be peanuts for you, huh?”

He hesitated for a moment, then sent me a wry smile. “Yeah. But there’s always someone who’s got more than you—money, success, whatever. Like my cousin, you know? Two years older, but already managing hotels in Europe.”

“Guess some people just skip the awkward ‘figuring life out’ phase.”

“True.” Logan’s gaze drifted away. “Sometimes I feel like I’m playing catch-up.”

“You’re not just his knock-off, you know?” I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Not to sound like a fortune cookie, but don’t measure yourself with someone else’s ruler.”

“That’s…” He paused. “Deep. I think.”

I glanced at him just as he glanced at me, and somehow, it cut through the moment of heaviness. It seemed he felt it too because his grin looked genuine and just a hint relieved.

“So,” he said. “What can I offer you—wine, beer? Champagne?” The last one came with a teasing lilt, and I lightly kicked the side of his foot in retaliation.

“Beer, please.”

We grabbed two bottles from the fridge and took them for a dip in the pool. It wasn’t until a few sips in that Logan grabbed my wrist, eyes gone dark and hungry as he watched my throat move. Oh. I placed my bottle on the edge of the pool and opened my stance.

Breaths mingling, Logan’s face blue-hued from underwater lights, their glow shimmering along his cheekbones. The first brush of our lips was soft, a refresher of last night’s memories, before his mouth opened to mine. I tangled my fingers in the silky-wet strands of his hair.

Minutes, slipping away.

Reality returned with the doorbell. We separated, blinking, his sudden smile a secret that I wanted to keep.

He went to the door while I wrapped myself in a towel and scrambled upstairs, leaving damp footprints on the wooden floor that I hoped would fade in a matter of seconds. Tiptoeing through the shadows like a kid skirting bedtime might not be my most dignified moment, but… fucking worth it. Logan was.

I perched at the top of the stairs, hot skin cooled by a gentle evening breeze that blew through the open windows. Logan’s voice drifted up, warm and welcoming. “Hey, how’s it going? Thanks so much.”

“Good evening, Mr.—”

“Logan, please,” Logan cut in smoothly. “Thought we agreed to skip the formalities?”

“Of course, Logan. As you wish.” Des’s tone held a hint of fondness that was uncommon in guest interactions, but as the longest-standing member of the resort’s staff, he embodied the island’s easy, friendly warmth. “Where would you like this?”

“Out on the terrace is great,” Logan said. “Let me help.”

“Oh, no. I’ve got it, sir. Logan.”

My beer was still sitting on the edge of the pool.

I realized it with a sharp burst of unease. Butlers were trained in discretion, though—Des wouldn’t chat. And anyway, it might be Tom’s from earlier, or Logan could have helped himself to a double serving. I caught the clink of cutlery, the rich, savory smell of barbecued meat wafting up to me just as Des asked, “Sir Tom is out for a night dive? ”

“Yeah. He might be hungry later, though.” It came out a little too quickly. Logan seemed to notice because he slowed down his voice when he added, “Hence the double order.”

“Ah.” Des paused just long enough to convey a deliberate decision to buy what Logan was selling. “That makes sense.”

I shifted on the stairs, adjusting the towel I’d wrapped around myself. Footsteps implied that Logan and Des were moving back to the front door. Just as I expected Des to slip out, Logan asked, “How’s your brother?”

Huh. Nia had mentioned that Des’s brother had limped away from a minor car accident with a broken leg and a couple of bruised ribs—no surprise when many island cars were held together by rust and a prayer. The surprise was that Logan knew, that he cared to know.

“Much better,” Des said. “Thank you for checking.”

“Did you get a chance to see him?”

“It’s high season.” Des’s tone was careful, and yeah, that was roughly what Richard had told Nia when she’d asked for a week off to visit her sister once the baby was born.

Logan was silent for a moment before he said, a tinge of frustration coloring his words, “Just seems like maybe it doesn’t have to be like this.”

Neither of them spoke for a second.

“Anyway,” Logan continued then, his tone lightening. “Thank you, Des. No need to come back later for the dishes—we’ll just leave them till the morning.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Des replied. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

The front door clicked shut, followed by the receding crunch of gravel outside. I gave it another minute before I rose from my perch on the stairs and moved back down to where Logan was waiting for me.

Water slid cool along my back, a contrast to Logan’s firm warmth pressed against my front. He was seated on a swim-out bench, his thighs bracketing me in and his fingers digging into the muscles of my shoulders. Each shift of our hips sent delicious sparks down my spine.

“What if Tom—” I broke off sharply when Logan found a sensitive spot under my ear. Focus . “What if Tom comes back?”

Logan’s quiet laugh fluttered against my skin, water sloshing as his thighs tightened around me. “I told him to tread carefully. Ring the bell.”

“So you think I’m a sure thing, huh?” I bit a grin into his shoulder. “Presumptuous.”

“Hopeful,” he corrected. “Plus, you know, last night . And you’re the one who mentioned pool sex.”

“I may not have thought that all the way through,” I admitted.

“The part about how water mixes with lube and condoms?” Logan raised his head for a smile. “Yeah—been there, failed at that. Didn’t want to burst your bubble, though.”

I wasn’t jealous. That’d be ridiculous.

“So what’s the learning?” I asked.

“Handjobs. Or start in the pool, then move things to a bed.”

“Door Two.” I cupped his ass, index finger lightly nudged against his rim. He sucked in a breath and moved into my touch. In the blue glow of the pool lights, he looked like something out of a dream. I wanted him— God , how I wanted him. Like an ache in my bones, the burn of potent liquor at the back of my throat.

Nia sometimes called sex ‘a conversation by other means.’ I’d never known what she meant until now.

The tilt of Logan’s head as I fitted our mouths together. How his legs tightened to force me closer, our tongues twining in a slick, playful dance of give and take. I traced a circle around his hole, nail catching gently, and his fingers dug into the meat of my arms. It wouldn’t take much for me to come just like this, wrapped up in him and around him. But, no.

I lifted him up, one hand under his ass and my other arm around his back. He curled into me, shivering out a laugh, as I carried him towards the steps leading out of the pool.

“Aww.” His voice dipped, sweetly teasing. “Hold me, my big, strong man.”

“Jerk.” It sounded like an endearment, and I nipped at his jaw to gloss it over. “You’re the size of a truck, so it’s the only way I can do this.”

Huh. Now there was a thought.

I raised my head and met his eyes, so close that his lashes were smudged shadows. “Could you ?”

He wet his lips. “Could I what?”

“Lift me up just like that.” I paused for a smile, pure as snow. “Fuck me against a wall.”

“That’s, uh…” His pupils were blown wide. “Yeah. How about we try to find out one of these days?”

Fuck . I swallowed. “You’re on.”

Somehow, we made it up to the bedroom—grabbing at each other, crashing into the railing when Logan trapped me for a bruising kiss, then stumbling into the door jamb, hands all over. We fell onto the bed and I rolled on top, held his wrists down against the mattress as I sucked a bite into his neck. Payback . He angled his head for better access, breath huffing out in a fluttering moan as he arched under me. Indirect light framed the headboard and spilled over him, so fucking beautiful it hurt.

I blinked against a kaleidoscope of colors. “Lube?”

“Nightstand. Condom, too.”

After another nip of teeth, I released his wrists and twisted to grab the stuff, dropped the condom within easy reach and opened the small plastic bottle. “Travel size, huh?” I asked as I coated my fingers, Logan watching me intently.

“Mhmm.” He parted his thighs so I could settle between them. “Just the lube. Had to mooch the condom off Tom—I didn’t pack any.”

I slid him a grin. “ You didn’t pack condoms?”

“Hey, I’m not twenty anymore.” He drew a knee to his chest, opening himself up in a way that damn near stole my breath. “Like I said, I was going to focus on my thesis. And then you happened.”

“Sorry?” I offered, and he laughed.

“Not even a little.”

I’ll miss you. The thought burst like a water balloon in my stomach, vision swimming for a second. Fuck, no. I knew what this was and, more importantly, what it wasn’t. Also, I’d worked so fucking hard not to need anyone. I wasn’t about to throw it all away.

Logan wasn’t mine to keep. That was fine.

“Me neither,” I said, delayed by a second. Then I ducked my head to kiss the inside of his thigh right as I pushed a finger into him. Tight, dark heat, and fuck, it had been a while since I’d been on this end of things. It had been a while since I’d been on either end.

White sheets crinkled under us. I licked the faint tang of chlorine and salt off his skin, the sharp, musky scent of arousal heavy between his legs. Another finger next to the first, and I could feel him relaxing around me, shifting back into my touch.

“All right,” he said. “More.”

“Use your words, babe.” Babe . It had slipped out just like that, my filter sputtering with Logan spread out under me like this, the beautiful curves of his muscles and the clench of his body. Just thinking about how he’d feel around my cock had me teetering on the edge.

“You want words?” He raised his head to shoot me a pointed look—only for his lips to part around a groan, lids drooping, when I crooked my fingers just so.

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked brightly, adding a third finger.

“That…” He exhaled something halfway between a grunt and a sigh. “That was a strong request to fuck me already.”

“Impatient much?”

“Milo.” Logan’s tone was sweet. The way he clenched around me was anything but. “Either you get yourself into me right the fuck now, or I will climb on top of you and ride you into the mattress. Your choice.”

Christ. I pulled out my fingers and wiped them off on the sheets, clearing my throat. “If that was meant to be a threat, you’re doing it wrong.”

He sat up, grabbing my hips so he could roll the condom down my cock. Even the fleeting touch of his hand had me bite the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t come right then and there, bright iridescence flooding my mind. He lay back with a tilt to his mouth that was just a hint smug. “So?”

“Fine.” I shoved his legs apart and pushed into the space between them, covered him up with my body for a deep, harsh kiss. He reached down to line me up, his hips angled into it, and yeah, okay. God . I grappled for control.

One slow, measured thrust. Logan’s mouth fell open, head tilting back to bare the line of his throat, and fuck, he was gorgeous.

I stilled, as deep as I could go. “Okay?”

“Yes.” He slid his eyes open for a half-formed glare. “ Move .”

Move ? I pressed my thumb into the soft skin at the back of his knee, my other hand wrapped around his thigh, holding him open for me. Move . Blood rushed like a waterfall in my ears.

A tiny roll of my hips was all that I gave him, the suggestion of movement more than the actual thing. It seemed to change the angle, though, because he panted out a sharp breath and twisted into it, his butt rising off the mattress. I pushed him back down and repeated the motion, a little more intent behind it now, delicious drag of heat along my cock. Again. He watched me through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.

“Still complaining?” My words came out like I’d dragged them through gravel.

“Complaining is really not my style.” He wasn’t faring much better, his voice low and breathy. “If anything,”—a hitched moan—“I offer constructive feedback.”

I turned my head to kiss his ankle. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m full of you ,” he corrected, and it might have been cheesy if not for the deliberate, dirty way he tightened around me. I stilled, head ducked and eyes squeezed shut, riding out a golden rush of tension that threatened to pull me under. Should have known it would be like this—hot and playful and just a touch competitive, push and pull.

Then I folded over him, trapping his wrists against the bed as I drew out nearly all the way and slammed back in with a smooth thrust. He dug his heels into my back, eyes open, our gazes tangling.

Words. I knew words, but right now, they flowed away like sand, like water. I moved in long, grinding rolls of my hips, with a twist at the end that punched gasps and curses out of him. Heat pooled behind my navel, mind a jumbled mess as the night narrowed to this, us, his body under mine.

“You close?” I managed. Words, somehow. One syllable—I could do one syllable. Only just.

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath, the blue-green of his irises reduced to thin rings around his pupils. Eyes like the moon , I thought. Nonsense. I released his wrists and reached down, found him hard and heavy, smear of precome beading at the tip of his cock. He hissed at the first touch, pushing his head into the pillow. Come on.

My hips snapped forward. “Logan. Come on .”

He reached up, braced himself against the headboard, and rolled into my next thrust. Dear sweet— fuck . I jerked him hard and fast, kissed him slow and deep. Breathing into each other’s open mouths. Finally— oh God, finally —he shuddered under me, shaking apart and spilling over my fingers, biting at my lips.

I let go. Sweet release washed over me like a torrential downpour to end a heatwave, glistening in my veins, mind gone beautifully silent.

My mouth pressed against his throat as I caught my breath. He did too, the heavy thud of his heart slowing to a normal rate. With one arm around my back, he hugged me close.

“Not bad,” he said, impish delight tucked into his voice.

I raised my head for a glare. “Not bad? I think you killed my brain.”

“My ass tends to have that effect on people, yeah.”

“But at least you’re humble.”

He laughed, everything about him bright and immediate. I blanketed him with the weight of my body, kissed him until he’d gone loose and quiet under me, his fingers carding through my hair in a lazy, sleepy rhythm. It would be so very easy to doze off just like this. Leave the mess we’d made until the morning.

I reminded myself that future me would fault my decision-making. Holding on to the condom, I pulled out gently.

Logan groaned. “ Must you do the responsible adult thing?”

“Someone’s got to set an example.” I didn’t want to hit a nerve, what with his parents and all, so I soothed any sting with a smile. “Stay. I’ll get a washcloth to clean you up, okay?”

Even before he opened his mouth, the spark of mischief in his eyes told me to brace myself. “You take such good care of me.” He paused. “Like a mother. ”

”I don’t know you,” I announced.

“The Bible would beg to differ.”

I managed to swallow a laugh. “Oh, wow, and now you’re bringing religion into it. What’s next—conflict in the Middle East?”

”I’m just warming up for the great debate on gun control.”

Fuck. I could fall in love with you.

I squashed the thought along with a mild swell of panic. “How about tax reform?”

“Oh.” He fanned himself. “My favorite kind of pillow talk.”

I shook my head, stupid softness curling in my belly. The hoot of a night bird floated through the window, a familiar island sound that settled my pulse. “I’ll be right back.”

“Isn’t that Schwarzenegger’s line in The Terminator ?”

Whatever lingering tension I’d held slipped away. “Close enough. Also, your mind is a weird and wondrous place.”

“Thank you, I think.” He propped himself up, leaning back on his elbows with a smile. His body was a long, mouthwatering curve. Just like me, his skin showed tan lines where his shorts usually sat, and something about that felt private, precious.

I made myself turn towards the bathroom. “You know,” I said over my shoulder, “maybe you should look for an art hotel you can manage. Dedicated to, like, Dali or Francis Bacon. Put both your strange mind and your first degree to good use.”

It drew an amused snort from him. “Maybe, yeah.”

After discarding the condom and rinsing off my dick, I wet a washcloth and returned to the bedroom. Should I toss it to him? It seemed a bit cold. But cleaning him up myself felt like the act of a boyfriend, miles from casual. I looked at him—the mess of his hair and his flushed skin, how he was watching me through sleepy eyes.

“You’ll stay?” His voice tilted up just the slightest bit, almost not a question.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” I crossed the room and wiped him clean, then threw the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom. Logan mimed a tiny cheer when it landed on the tiles with a wet smack.

“And he scores !”

”Sure did,” I said meaningfully.

He grinned at me. “Rematch tomorrow?”

It would be a Saturday, which meant arrival and departure for many guests who stayed a week. In high season, even that didn’t guarantee a day off for Nia and me, but tomorrow, we’d be able to swing it. Which reminded me that Tom had yet to make it back. Go Nia.

“Sleep in first,” I told Logan. “Then coffee. Then sex.”

“Excellent plan.” He kicked the day cover off the bed and tugged the thin sheet over his naked body, lifting one corner to invite me in. Nothing about this felt casual.

Well. No point worrying about the future when there was none.

I exhaled around the weight and settled in next to him, close enough to sense his warmth but not close enough to touch. It was how we’d fallen asleep the night before, only for me to wake up alone.

Logan made a disgruntled noise.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you allergic to cuddling?”

“Uh.” I glanced at him. “No?”

“Good.” He leaned over me, stretching to flick off the light, and since his collarbone was right there, I raised my head for a quick, gentle nip of teeth. He ducked to turn it into a kiss instead, then dropped down with one hand flat against my chest, his head on my shoulder.

Okay. This was… new.

My mind skimmed across memories of Michael—how with him, I’d been the one who was held, not the one doing the holding. Logan was older than me, taller too, but he didn’t seem to care about assigning static roles. Was this what true confidence looked like?

Tentatively, I draped an arm around his back. He shifted into it with a small, happy sound, and oh, hell, I liked him really quite a lot.

I closed my eyes and decided to stop thinking. This, now, was enough.