Chapter 8

8

S ticky night brushed against my skin. The car windows were down, the air heavy with salt and a distant promise of rain. As we left the coast behind, the island’s heartbeat slowed, sudden quiet wrapping a blanket around our shoulders. The beach bar seemed worlds away.

“Having second thoughts?” Logan asked, his voice like velvet.

I exhaled. “If I had my wits about me, I would.”

“And do you?” Humor glinted in his tone, and I took him in—one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift, his knuckles gleaming faintly in the light of a passing car.

“No.” I reached out to trace the hard line of his thigh, his muscles flexing under my touch. “As much as I shouldn’t do this, I’m in.”

He parted his thighs. “Same.”

“You’re in, or you shouldn’t do this?”

The car’s tires thrummed along the patchy road. “Both,” he said.

I glanced at his profile. “Why—you got a boyfriend at home?”

“No.” He lifted his hand off the gearshift and laced our fingers, guiding my touch higher up between his legs. “No girlfriend either, if that was gonna be your next question. I’m not a cheater.”

“Good to know.” I dragged my knuckles along the half-hard line of his cock, hot through the thin fabric of his shorts. Big, God . Just like I’d suspected. “So what makes this a bad idea for you?”

“Didn’t intend to meet anyone here.” A breathless edge frayed his words, hips tilting off the seat. Good thing this wasn’t rush hour in Miami. “I was going to focus on my thesis—prove I can take things seriously for once.”

“Sorry for your loss.”

“No, you’re not.”

I leaned closer to kiss his throat, sparks twisting through my veins. Warm skin, slightly salty, a hint of sandalwood and soap. “You’re right,” I agreed in a murmur. “I’m not sorry. Three years, and I’ve never hooked up with a guest. I didn’t plan you either, so it’s only fair.”

He drew in a shaky breath, fingers tightening around my hand, pressing it down against his cock. “All right, yeah. Fair.” Another breath as he shot me a quick, glittering look. “But this isn’t about the resort or hierarchies. Nothing like that. It’s just us, yeah?”

If only it were that easy. It wasn’t—no way to snap our fingers and poof, goodbye reality. But I did believe that he meant it, and that eased something in me, my next words coming out in a light tease.

“So you wouldn’t use your status to help me out either?” I let my nails catch against the head of his dick and felt it twitch against my palm. “Commend me on…” My lips followed the curve of his jaw, slight scrape of teeth. “Impeccable service and attention to detail?”

“I’m driving , Milo. Fuck.” His body contradicted the weak protest, hips bucking up into my touch. His voice came out soft and breathy. “And—would that be a problem? Not in those words ‘cause I’m pretty sure I watched the porn to go with them. But if I could make things better for you?”

I dug my knuckles into his thigh. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I won’t.” He took his hand off mine to shift gears, slowing down even though it felt like we were the only ones for miles. Dense, tangled forest lined the road. “Why, though? I won’t. But why?”

“It’d feel dirty.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He paused for a second, then covered my hand again, his voice turning lighter. “Guess that’s it for your big, fat tip at the end.”

The last dregs of my tension washed away. Somehow, Logan made it easy, managed to make me relax when most people had the opposite effect.

“Too bad.” I pressed my grin against his cheek. “I was kind of hoping for a big, fat tip.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “ Just the tip?”

“Definitely not just the tip.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Fuck, he smelled good. I let my nose drag along his cheek and thought about putting my mouth on his dick. I’d done that just a handful of times on late drives in Michael’s shitty car, heading inland to escape the lights and traffic. The first couple of times had been fun—fumbling and risky, his murmured praise in my ears, his fingers in my hair, the rumble of the engine in my veins. And then, later, it had morphed into something that was all about him, a way to ease his moods.

With Logan, it might be fun again. I could make him gasp and shiver, test his control on this empty, narrow road. I could feel wanted .

The earthy, humid scent of the rainforest wafted through the windows, the jungle like a living, breathing entity. Our headlights caught the ghostly silhouettes of trees. Just us.

“Slow down.” My voice was low. I withdrew to my own seat but kept watching him. “There’s a dirt track coming up to our left. Turn in there.”

He flashed me a smile, his eyes liquid dark. “You tryin’ to take advantage of me?”

I smiled back. “Sure am.”

“Excellent.”

The car jolted onto the dirt track, bouncing and rattling over the unpaved terrain. Leaves whispered against the windows as the jungle closed in around us, a wall of darkness broken only by the glow of our headlights.

“What’s along here?” Logan asked .

“Some farms. No one who’ll be awake at this hour.”

A minute, then we came upon a wider part of the track, trees cut back to allow for two vehicles to pass each other. Unasked, Logan pulled over and eased the car to a halt. The engine fell quiet, a chorus of crickets and tree frogs rising. Darkness wrapped around us.

“What now?” His question held just a hint of playful challenge. It didn’t feel like a game, though, no power play. Just syrupy desire that flowed in my blood.

“Now…” I opened the door on my side and paused, savoring the stretch of tension. “First one to the backseat wins.”

“Wins what ?” Logan asked right as I got out of the car and slammed my door. He’d only just started to clamber out when I slid into the backseat.

“Bragging rights,” I said, voice raised to carry through the open window.

“You cheated.” Laughter colored the contours of his words. “I want a rematch.”

“Sure. Or…” I reached across to open the door for him. “Or you could shut up and kiss me.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” A second later, he crawled in with me—pushed me back against the side of the car, sure and solid, his thighs bracketing me in. Holy shit. Close and still not close enough.

“Was that a complaint?” I canted my hips up with a soft hum. Our voices had dropped to a whisper, the night breathing in time with us. “Because there’s a suggestion box back at the dive center. Office hours only.”

He dipped his head, lashes tickling my cheek, slow like a butterfly opening its wings. Hot gust of air against my lips. “No complaints here.”

“That’s what I thought,” I murmured.

The side of his hand rested light against my throat, his other hand curling around my wrist. I caught his mouth for a sweet, dragging kiss. Slick brush of our tongues, his hips pressing down for a second that was too short and left me wanting. I hadn’t truly wanted anyone in… God, too long .

I was aware of every single place we were touching, lines of muscles and the swell of his cock against my thigh, hip bone pressing into my waist. Hum of gravity in my veins, and I twisted into him, drew a ragged breath. Felt like I’d been waiting for weeks .

Logan lifted himself up slightly, no longer pressed chest to thigh. “Okay?”

“What do you think ?” I thrust up to make my point, rode out a bright explosion of sparks as the hot, hard lines of our cocks rubbed together. His hand flexed around my wrist. I arched my back and shoved my head off the seat so our mouths crashed together, hard and messy, no finesse, the angle sloppy. Thoughts were pushed out by the press of his fingertips against my skull. He dropped back down, his broad, firm body trapping me, tongue pushing between my teeth. Fuck yes.

Hips rolling upwards, I gasped into his mouth and ran a hand down his back, yanked up his shirt to get at his skin and the curve of muscles. He shuddered into me, teeth catching my lower lip before his tongue plunged back in.

“I think—” He cut himself off sharply to lick the inside of my mouth. “I think we’re just getting started.”

“Prove it.”

“Yeah?” His nails teased along the waistline of my shorts before he shoved them down my thighs, teeth catching on a nipple. I arched up and he pushed me back down, ground his cock against mine in tight little circles, the fabric of his shorts silky-slick against my bare skin. So good, and I could come just from this, hot press and friction, half undressed with Logan covering me up. Just us and the jungle night.

I got my arms around him and one hand down the back of his shorts to yank him even closer, my thighs falling open to make space. His fingers framed my chin, tilting my head for better access to my mouth, all his weight behind the kiss.

“Come on,” I managed, words squeezed into the tiny pause between one bruising kiss and the next. Not even sure what I was asking for—more, harder, just like this .

“Want my mouth?” he asked, and oh, Jesus.

I nodded blindly. He let go of my chin, pulled off my shirt, and slid down my body like a trail of fire. A light brush of his knuckles against my cock, his lips opening around the head. I shut my eyes to focus on just that—wet, dark tightness, then cool air on my skin when he pulled back slightly. A long, warm gust of breath made me shiver, stomach clenching up with the sensation. He pushed one of my legs up and nudged a dry finger against my rim, the sting light and sweet.

I grit my teeth against the blinding shock of arousal. “You can, you know?”

“Not here,” he said. “Not like this.”

Bet I could make you reconsider.

Words locked in my throat as he got his mouth back on me—sliding down in a long, slow drag, nails cutting into my hip to hold me down even as I twitched into the contact, heart sliding sideways. He pressed a spit-slick finger into me, spreading me open just enough to register, teasing at the idea of more.

God, yeah. Please . And maybe I’d said it out loud because he pulled back with a hint of teeth only to sink back down, glorious darkness behind my lids, sweet push and pull as he set a rhythm that sent flares of brightness dancing up my ribs.

I slid my lids open to drink him in—couldn’t make out more than his shadowed silhouette, the faintest gleam of his skin. I wanted to see him spread out naked in broad daylight, wanted to take hours mapping the curves of his body. For now, I’d learn by touch. I yanked at his shirt again, and he raised up just long enough to ditch it before he returned, swallowing me down without hesitation.

Pleasure snaked up my spine, threatening to pull me under. I dug my fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, felt them bunch and relax under my hold. Vertigo like the drop of a rollercoaster, stomach rolling with it.

I jerked my hips off the seat to get closer. “ Logan .”

He forced me back down, made it impossible for me to move, and God, it was shockingly hot, a sublime loss of control. No one had ever felt like this. No one had made me feel like this, wholly desired, no idle pretense or mind games.

“Please,” I ground out. Please, anything. This —his throat muscles fluttering around my cock as he pushed his finger deep, distant burn, the crashing of waves in my ears even though we weren’t by the sea. I thrust up, hips coming off the seat, head thrown back. Pleasure ripped through me in a simmering rush, and that was it, yes .

Freefall—gravity yanking me up and under.

I jolted with the sheer, raw intensity of it all. Swirling shadows, my body locking up as I came.

Logan worked me through it with little twists of his hand, almost too much. I shuddered into the sensation, quaking under his touch, blindly turning into it as his mouth slammed down on mine. Slick, hard slide of our tongues as I came down. My ribcage felt like it had cracked wide open, breath rasping against the back of my throat. Everything in technicolor.

His knuckles dug into my belly in quick, urgent jabs. It took me a second, reality reduced to glistening shards, and, oh. He was fucking into the circle of his own hand, shorts shoved down to his knees. Right, I should help him with that. I wanted to.

I dug my fingers into his ass cheeks and urged him up and forward, opened my mouth around the head of his cock. Christ, yeah—he really was proportionate. I was not a size queen, but wow. Out of practice, this sure was a stretch for me, pun intended. Fucking hot .

“You sure?” His voice was shot to hell, and it made me smile around him, still breathless.

I pulled back just enough to ask, “You want an engraved invitation?” Then I ducked back in, took him a little further this time.

He made a low noise at the back of his throat and started moving—short, graceless jerks of his hips, ragged moans each time he twitched forward. God, so good . Letting him use my mouth, aftershocks of pleasure zipping through me, heat still simmering in my gut.

He tore away from me with a groan, gripping himself for a few urgent, jagged thrusts. I clutched at his biceps. “C’mon, Logan. Your turn.”

“Fuck. You just—” A low growl as he cut himself off and dropped down, locked his teeth around the muscle in my neck. It’d bruise and I wanted it, God. Wanted his hands all over, too much, too soon. But I couldn’t bring myself to care, not right now while he jolted against me, hips still working in quick hitches. One more time until he shuddered and spilled warm and slick on my belly, then fell on top of me, going still.

God. God.

My heart hammered in my chest, mouth used and swollen, warmth flushing my cheeks like heady wine. We were both panting, his muscles trembling under my hold. Long seconds passed before he lifted his head, and I wished I could read his expression.

“Holy shit ,” he said, voice pitched as though it was some kind of revelation. It made me blow out a breathy laugh.

“Eloquent, college boy.” I framed his face with both hands, his skin hot under my palms. “You sure you’re working on your second degree?”

“Give me a break. All the blood’s still in my downstairs brain.”

“Valid excuse.”

“I thought so.” With that, he circled my wrist in a warm, light hold, his thumb pressing down on my pulse point. Maybe he could feel my heart still racing.

For a few seconds, we didn’t move—pressed together, our skin tacky with sweat and his come drying between us, cocks softening. Leaves rustled outside the window, the jungle’s nightly sounds rising and falling in a hypnotizing symphony.

“You coming back with me?” he asked. “Stay the night?”

I wanted to. God, I did.

“It’s a risk,” I said softly.

He was quiet for a beat. “That’s not a no.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Again, not a no.” He turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand, fingers still loosely clasped around my wrist. “Or I could come back with you?”

“My bed is barely even big enough for me.” I puffed out a sigh, and no, I really shouldn’t. But I liked him, really quite a lot. And if there was a chance we could do this again, either later or early in the morning? I hadn’t fallen asleep with anyone in years—hadn’t wanted to.

“Right, yeah. Of course.” Logan sounded like he was trying to hide his disappointment. He made no effort to talk me around, though, and somehow, that swung it for me. I wrapped my arms around him just as he started moving away.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay the night.”

About half a mile from the resort, illumination on the trees broke the black wall of the jungle. Designed to welcome guests, I considered it my two-minute warning before we’d hit the imposing iron gates at the entrance. When the road swerved and opened up to the sea on one side, I asked Logan to pull over.

“Sure you don’t want to hide in the trunk?” he asked with a quick grin, his face a relief of light and shadows in the dim glow.

“Last I checked, this wasn’t a spy movie.” I grinned back. “You’re no James Bond, man.”

“You wound me.”

“There, there.” I gave his shoulder a comforting pat. “I’ll patch up your bruised ego in just a bit.”

“Oh, yeah?” One corner of his mouth tugged into an impish quirk, and I leaned across the gap between our seats to kiss it away.

I slipped out of the car a moment later, the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine mingling with the salty tang of the sea. Logan drove off, leaving me to follow the shoreline. Waves crashed against the rocks in a soothing rhythm. The moon threw a silvery blanket over the deserted beach .

Soon, I reached the edge of the resort and stepped onto the wooden walkway. Its gentle curve was lit by electric torches that flickered with a mimicked breeze, my footsteps soft on the planks. Guest cabins twinkled through the trees above me, the seaside bar already closed for the night.

I was abruptly tired—not the bone-deep heaviness of true exhaustion but a soft haze, slow and honey-sweet. Hardly a surprise when my usual idea of a wild night was starting a movie at nine. Was this a bad idea?

Probably, yeah. But I’d told Logan I’d stay the night. And I didn’t want to back out.

I turned into the maze of wooden paths that crossed the resort, hoping to avoid any security cameras as I ducked sideways toward Logan’s cabin. It was nestled amid a grove of flowering trees, their scent warm and heavy in the air. Golden light trickled out of the cabin, even more luxurious than the one I’d stayed in with my parents all those years ago. Yeah, Logan could afford the best. Which, to quote the resort brochure, meant ’a haven of harmonious design, where the boundaries of space and time dissolve—from a secluded plunge pool to your expansive terrace overlooking the endless blue of the Caribbean Sea.’

The door had been left ajar. I dropped my sandals by the entrance before I walked further inside. “Logan?”

“By the pool.”

I found him sprawled on an outdoor lounge sofa, shirt open, skin shimmering in the blue glow of the pool lights. His smile was as quiet as his voice. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” I sat down close and returned his smile. “Nice digs.”

“I’ve stayed in worse.” He offered me a glass of water from the side table, and the small gesture settled something in me, a last remnant of unease falling away. His fingers grazed my pulse point when I accepted the water.

I took a sip, muted tiredness still clinging to the edge of my vision. It was gorgeous out here. While trees crowded close to the cabin, a gap had been cleared to expose a slice of the sea, its charcoal surface slashed by silvery reflections of moonlight. The pool was just a few steps below us. Angled towards me, Logan’s long, muscular body appeared relaxed, his thighs splayed apart. The way he watched me burned like embers behind my ribs. I glanced at his mouth before I met his eyes once more, gazes holding, gravity a heavy pull between us.

What even were words? I dragged some up from the bottom of my stomach. “You look like an invitation.”

He swayed just a hint closer, the corners of his mouth turning up. “And are you ready to accept?”

“Thought I already did.”

His attention flickered to my lips and back up. “There is that.”

Less talk, more touching.

I set down the glass, crawled into the gap between his thighs, and curled a hand around his bicep. He twined his fingers into my hair to tug me in for a deep, unhurried kiss. His tongue swept along the row of my teeth, then nudged further inside. I sank into it—night shadows and quiet heat, caught in a summer haze.

“Well, well, well,” Tom said.

Logan pulled back just enough for a, “Fuck off.”

“Always with the eloquence, man.” Instead of heading back inside, Tom claimed a lounge chair just next to us, sounding happily unfazed. “So, how’s it going? Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Logan sighed, fingers skimming down the side of my neck, before he shot Tom a put-out look. “That’d be a lot more believable coming from literally anyone else.”

“Other than Kyle,” Tom said.

”Kyle?” I asked.

”My roommate.” Logan sounded slightly pained. “He’s a good guy, but he’s a lot.”

I straightened with a laugh, steadying myself with a hand on the back of the couch. “You know that our choice of friends says a lot about us, right?”

“Logan likes to surround himself with people much cooler than him,” Tom said. “Keeps him grounded. ”

“Remind me why I keep you around?” Logan’s lips were pursed against a smile, one hand still curved around my knee. It wasn’t overly sexual, more warm and comforting. Strangely, I found that I’d missed this—simple physical contact, being close to another person. I swallowed against the barbed ache.

“It’s my sparkling personality,” Tom said.

Logan nodded. “Must be it.”

“Nia gave you a ride back?” I asked Tom.

“She did.” Tom inserted a weighted pause. “What with how you two abandoned us.”

“Like it was such a hardship for you.” Logan’s tone dripped innuendo.

“Well, no. But some of us don’t put out on the first date. I’m a classy dude, man.”

Last I’d checked, Nia had no issue putting out on the first date. I squinted at Tom. “Really?”

“Yep.” He grinned, a blue-tinged flash of teeth. “Unlike some others on this terrace.”

“Classy isn’t defined by the Victorian Dating Society’s rulebook,” Logan said.

I shot him a grin. “So you’ll still respect me in the morning?”

“Babe.” Logan’s voice was lifted straight out of a cheesy eighties movie. “Stay the night, and I’ll order us breakfast in bed.”

I snorted. “Because it won’t be awkward at all if Des walks in on us.”

“I’m sure he’s seen worse,” Logan said.

“Nothing that involved me.”

“That’s the price of Logan’s company,” Tom said. “He’s got a knack for ending up in tight spots—literally and figuratively.”

“One,” Logan said, “reports of my scoundrel nature have been greatly exaggerated. And two, I’m an equal opportunity connoisseur of tight spots.”

Images. With his hand still curved around my knee, I wondered if he felt the way my thigh muscles jumped. While I did prefer to catch, loved the stretch, got off on getting filled up—Jesus, something about the idea of working myself into Logan’s gorgeous ass had my mouth go dry.

I aimed for an off-handed tone and missed by a mile. “Duly noted.”

Logan’s smile turned small and private, his eyes dark as they met mine. “Let me know if you want details. I’m happy to share.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Tom heaved a loaded sigh. “Get a room.”

“Already did,” Logan said. “It’s right next to yours.”

Tom’s face twisted in theatrical disgust. “You’d think the trauma of a dorm room just one door down from you would have taught me a thing or two. Like the value of thick walls.”

Right, what with Logan’s party boy ways. How many guys had he hooked up with? Dozens, hundreds? I could count mine on the fingers of one hand.

So what ? I had nothing to prove.

“He exaggerates,” Logan told me, all wide-eyed innocence as though it mattered what I thought. It didn’t—I knew what this was.

“ Sure .” I patted Logan’s shoulder, tiredness crowding back in around the edges of my vision. “Thing is, though, if we don’t get to it soon, I’ll fall asleep on you.”

Logan grinned. “Flattering.”

“Baby, I was born to be wild.” I raised a brow. “Until about nine p.m.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?” Logan sounded genuinely curious.

“I guess you’ll find out,” I said.

“And on that note…” Logan rose from the lounge sofa and offered me a hand. “Wanna see my etchings?”

Tom snorted. “Any sex noises, I’m banging on the wall.”

Three years ago, I would have blushed. Good thing that living with Nia had trained me to treat sex talk with the casual ease of a late-night host.

“Don’t worry,” I told Tom as I let Logan pull me to my feet. “This is the encore. It’s never as loud as the first time.”

“That a challenge?” Logan asked, dark and silky, only to ruin it with a yawn. Based on his routine of early runs, he probably wasn’t a creature of the night either.

I squeezed his hand with a grin. “You can blow my mind tomorrow, Casanova.”

“It’s a date.”

We said goodnight to a smirking Tom and made our way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Logan’s was the shape of a half circle, with wooden walls, a balcony, and floor-to-ceiling windows that lined its outer edge. A massive bed drew my eye, its pristine white sheets bathed in the gentle haze of a reading light.

Logan closed the door behind us. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

I turned to face him with a smile. “Yeah, it’s a dump.”

“I’m a man of simple needs.” He smiled back and reached for me, fingers closing around my biceps. I didn’t resist when he walked me back, just let him guide me until I bumped against something solid—the roughness of a wooden wall. Deliciously trapped by the solid curve of his body, and I parted my legs so he could press a thigh between them, felt him hot against my hip.

Momentary impressions, snapshots of sensation—the brief, sweet prick of pain as he bit down on my bottom lip, his fingers digging into my arms, my own fisted in his shirt to drag him closer. Rustle of jungle sounds and the faint, earthy warmth of his cologne. How he let me control our kiss, opened for me, blood flowing through my veins like the ebb and swell of the sea.

“Bed?” he asked, almost a whisper, and I nodded blindly.

“Lead the way.”

We lost our clothes before we fell together, our bodies merging into one shadow on the wall. It was sweeter this time, the earlier urgency muted—grinding and twisting until Logan took us both in one hand and I came just like that, his mouth on my throat and his hand on my cock, sticky warmth between us. Logan’s teeth scraped over my shoulder as he followed just moments later.

It felt like resurfacing after a dive. There was a profound and layered silence in my mind, the everyday storm of thoughts temporarily at peace. Intertwined, I could sense Logan’s heartbeat slowing along with my own.

He lifted his head, eyes velvet dark in the dim light. “You’re still staying, right?”

For some reason, my heart gave a drunken lurch—a boat caught by a sudden wave. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I told him. Sated and tired, I refused to worry about the truth in it.

Just temporary bliss.