Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, Andrew looked back at him carefully. “Why are you here?”
Logan shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, which drew Andrew’s gaze to—
He tore his eyes away, his ears turning hot, his mouth dry.
“I was in the area,” Logan said tersely.
“You just said you were in New York,” Andrew pointed out.
Logan glared at him, his expression dark, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His very tanned jaw. His neck still looked bronzed against that light blue shirt and—
Andrew dropped his eyes, balling the bedspread in his fists.
“I didn’t tell you my room number,” he said, just to say something. Anything. “You stalked me.”
“It’s hardly stalking when you stalked me first.”
Andrew’s gaze snapped up. He glowered at Logan. “Your hotel’s address is publicly available information. There was no stalking involved.”
Logan straightened from his slouch against the door, and Andrew’s heart started beating faster. He sat very still as Logan approached him.
He stopped in front of Andrew and looked down at him. “Let’s drop the bullshit,” he said quietly. His hand—large, strong, so familiar—touched the curly strand by Andrew’s temple.
Andrew couldn’t breathe. He could only look into Logan’s chocolate-brown eyes, like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s trap. “B-bullshit?” he whispered, almost shaking with the effort to keep still and not lean into the touch.
“You all but begged me to come,” Logan said, his expression half-disgusted, half-hungry. “You need me.”
Andrew scowled at him, his face uncomfortably warm. “No more than you need me.”
Logan’s lips thinned into a line, but he didn’t deny it.
He didn’t deny it.
“It’s a side effect of depending on each other for nine months,” Logan said, irritation lacing his words. “It’s codependency.”
Andrew nodded, in full agreement with him on that.
“It’ll pass,” Logan said, his hand burying in Andrew’s hair. “I already had a meeting with a therapist. She said it’s nothing incurable. We just need to relearn how to function normally and keep a healthy distance…”
Logan was still saying something, but Andrew couldn’t focus anymore. His whole world seemed to narrow to that hand in his hair, fingers raking against his scalp, the touch sending shivers of pleasure through his body. It wasn’t enough.
A whine left his lips and he tipped forward, pressing his face against Logan’s hard stomach. Logan’s shirt was in the way and he pushed it up with trembling fingers until his face was pressed against that warm, glorious skin. God. God.
Logan was rigid against him, his abdominal muscles twitching against his face. Andrew rubbed his cheek against Logan’s happy trail, all the tension and frustration of the past few weeks bleeding out of him. He breathed, for what felt like the first time in weeks. In and out. In and out. Much better. He felt so much better. He felt intoxicated. So, so good.
“For fuck’s sake,” Logan gritted out above him. “This is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing.”
But his hand was still buried in Andrew’s hair and it wasn’t pushing him away, not even when Andrew drunkenly nuzzled his way lower, mouthing at the bulge under Logan’s pants, needing it.
“Christ,” Logan breathed out, his hand already working on his belt. “All right, I guess one more time won’t make a difference.” He unzipped his fly and his hard cock sprang out of it, hitting Andrew’s face.
Andrew stared at it hungrily and parted his lips, silently inviting it inside.
Logan groaned and pushed his cock into his mouth in one hard thrust.
God yes.
Everything after that was a blur of gut-wrenching pleasure and need. Andrew was only vaguely aware that he was making obscene sounds and moaning around that cock like a cock-hungry cocksucker, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt so good.
Some awareness slipped back into Andrew when he felt Logan’s hands gripping his face and holding it still as he fucked his mouth harder. He allowed it, his brain too intoxicated and hazy to think. He loved it, loved being used by Logan, loved being just a warm mouth for his cock. It felt right. He felt needed. Essential.
He slipped his hand into his sweatpants and started stroking his own aching cock, but he could barely focus on it. All his focus was on the familiar cock fucking his mouth, the way it bumped against the back of his throat, making him gag a little, how good it felt to have his lips stretched wide around the thick length. The taste of him was so familiar. So right. He’d missed it so much.
“Wait,” Logan ground out, pulling his cock out of Andrew’s mouth.
Andrew made a protesting noise, his brain unable to comprehend anything. He let Logan push him back onto the bed and arrange their bodies so Logan’s face was above his cock. He gasped when Logan’s hot mouth wrapped around his aching cock, but the pleasure felt secondary to his need to suck Logan’s. He guided Logan’s cock back into his mouth, moaning in relief as it started fucking his mouth again. This was all he wanted. This was all he’d needed. This cock, the taste of it, the way it filled his mouth.
When Logan came, Andrew swallowed his jizz greedily but kept sucking—until Logan hissed in discomfort and pulled out. “Oversensitive,” he said, before going back to sucking Andrew’s cock.
Andrew buried his face in Logan’s crotch, drowning in his scent, Logan’s mouth hot and tight around his cock. God. Logan stroked his balls, and Andrew came with a muffled moan, shaking and panting.
He floated on the cloud of pleasure-good-right for a long time. He whined and grabbed Logan’s arm when he started pulling away. Don’t go.
“Okay,” Logan said.
The mattress dipped. Logan stretched out next to him on his back. Andrew immediately rolled on top of him. Logan made an annoyed noise but didn’t push him off.
Taking it as permission, Andrew unbuttoned Logan’s shirt and put his face on the other man’s pecs, enjoying the familiar sensation of Logan’s sparse chest hair tickling his cheek. His body went boneless, a feeling of warm contentment spreading through him.
“Just this time,” Andrew mumbled. “We’ll go to a therapist tomorrow.”
Logan sighed, his hand setting on Andrew’s back and pulling him closer. “Yes. Tomorrow.”
Chapter 16
Logan stared at the man sleeping on his chest and wondered how it was possible to feel so relaxed and at ease when he had clearly lost his mind.
This hadn’t been the plan. He had arrived at the hotel to check up on Andrew, not to fall into the same rabbit hole again. The guy had sounded like a mess on the phone, and Logan had intended to just check up on him and then go on with his life.
Right, said a sardonic voice at the back of his mind. You’re as bad as he is, if not worse.
Running a hand over his face, Logan sighed. Yeah, maybe. If he were honest with himself, being away from Andrew had been… frustrating. These past weeks he’d constantly felt distracted, his body crawling with agitation. He was too used to sleeping wrapped around Andrew, too used to taking care of him. Logan had expected—hoped—that with the return to the normal world, his former independent habits would be back, but so far it wasn’t happening. Or maybe the need to be needed by Andrew had become too deeply ingrained into him.
Either way, what happened last night was a mistake. A mistake he shouldn’t make again. As long as he didn’t make it again, it should be fine. It was like quitting smoking: stopping completely wasn’t easy, but as long as he didn’t make a habit out of it, it was still possible to quit.
Isn’t it the same thing you told yourself back on the island?
Carefully pushing the uncomfortable thought away, Logan studied Andrew’s sleeping face, his brows furrowing when he noticed again how thin it was. Andrew was all lips and eyes now, his face almost gaunt. He was still ridiculously lovely, but this
thinness didn’t look healthy. It wasn’t just his face; he’d definitely lost a lot of weight overall.
As if feeling his gaze, Andrew mumbled something sleepily and shifted. Those large, pretty eyes opened. They seemed more blue than green this morning. They blinked at Logan owlishly before closing again. “Is it morning already?” he muttered into Logan’s chest, rubbing his cheek against it like a sleepy kitten.
Logan’s stomach tightened, a funny feeling twisting it. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just an unsettling one.
“Yes. Get off me. I need to go.”
Andrew went very still for a moment.
Then he rolled off him and sat up.
Logan sat up, too.
They just stared at each other for a moment.
“You’re all skin and bones,” Logan said. “Have you been eating at all? You weren’t this thin on the island.”
Andrew shrugged vaguely. It could mean anything.
When Logan continued looking at him, Andrew said, “I forget.”
“You forget,” Logan repeated flatly. “You forget to eat.”
Andrew wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Logan sighed. He reached for the phone on the nightstand and contacted reception. “Good morning. Breakfast for two, please.”
After a moment’s pause, the receptionist said quickly, “Of course, Mr. McCall.”
Andrew was glaring at Logan when he turned back to him. “Why did you do that?” he said, two spots of color appearing on his cheekbones. “Now they’re going to think that—that…”
“That you sucked my dick and I stayed the night?” Logan said, very dryly.
“I didn’t suck your dick,” Andrew said, avoiding his gaze as he straightened his clothes. “I’m not gay.”
Logan snorted a laugh. “Of course not. You just like having your mouth fucked. With a cock.”
The withering look Andrew shot him could have set someone on fire. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be,” Logan said, heading to the ensuite. He needed a shower.
By the time he returned, clad only in a towel wrapped around his hips, a maid was setting down a tray with breakfast on the table.
She started when she saw Logan, her eyes shooting from him to Andrew, whose face was red again.
“Good morning, Mr. McCall,” she said cheerfully, as if there was nothing strange about the situation.
“Good morning,” Logan said. “There are no bathrobes in the bathroom. Make sure that’s corrected.”
The maid flushed. “Of course, Mr. McCall. The only reason we didn’t bring them in was because there was a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door since Mr. Reyes moved in.”
Logan nodded. He didn’t bother saying that they should have brought a bathrobe before a new guest checked into the room; making her flustered would accomplish nothing. But he’d have to talk to the manager about this.
Andrew threw him a t-shirt. Logan caught it and slipped into it. It was a little tight around his chest and shoulders but nothing too uncomfortable.
“You may go, Jane,” he said, glancing at the maid when he realized that she was still there. “Have someone bring me clothes from my suite.”
She nodded and quickly left.
Logan sat down at the table and poured them both coffee. “Sit. Eat.”
Andrew scowled but did as he was told. He nibbled the food at first before suddenly attacking it ravenously, as if only now realizing how hungry he was. Christ, it seemed he hadn’t eaten in days. He certainly looked it.
Logan watched him eat, trying to place the strange feeling that curled in his gut. It wasn’t unfamiliar. It took him a moment to recognize it. It was similar to the primitive satisfaction he derived from watching Andrew enjoy the food he cooked. He liked feeding Andrew. Providing for him.
Cringing on the inside, Logan looked away and focused on his own food.
They ate in silence. It should have probably been uncomfortable, but it actually was the most comfortable Logan had felt in weeks. Returning home and seeing his family and friends for the first time in nearly a year had felt good, of course, but it had done nothing to erase the uneasy feeling under his skin, as if he’d misplaced something. Now that dissatisfied feeling was gone. He felt completely at ease.
It wasn’t that these feelings were completely surprising. It was probably natural that it would take him time to get used to his normal life. It was to be expected that he would still feel more comfortable around the person who had been his world for nine months. In time, these feelings should disappear. He just had to give it time—and stop feeding the codependency, dammit.
The sound of a ringtone snapped him out of his thoughts. Andrew started, too, before reaching for his phone and staring at it with something like trepidation.
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Someone you don’t want to talk to?”
Andrew’s face did something weird. “It’s my aunt. She raised me.”
It hadn’t escaped Logan’s notice that it wasn’t a no.
None of your damn business, he told himself and returned his gaze to his food. He pretended to be engrossed in it as Andrew answered the phone.
“…no, Auntie, I swear I didn’t forget… I know I promised to visit you today, and I will, I promise… I had no idea you were expecting me this early—”
The woman on the other end of the line seemed to launch into a tirade. Andrew listened to it with a resigned, pinched look on his face, his shoulders growing tenser with every moment. He looked… small. Andrew wasn’t a small man, but right now “small” was a good word to describe him. He looked small. Like anything could break him. Or something already had.
Logan frowned.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be heading out right now,” Andrew said at last before ending the call.
He stared at his phone for a moment, a blank look on his face, before springing to his feet. “I have to go,” he said, without looking at Logan. “I promised my aunt that I’d visit her today, and apparently she’s been expecting me for hours.”
“You need a ride?” Logan said before he could stop himself.
Andrew’s brows furrowed. “Do you have a car? I thought you lived in New York?”
Logan looked away. “I drove here,” he said curtly. Andrew didn’t need to know that he couldn’t sleep after hearing his voice, thinking about him and obsessing. He hadn’t even noticed at first that he was driving toward Boston, and then it was too late to turn back. Or so he had told himself.
“Oh,” Andrew said. “Okay, then.”
“Go take a shower and get dressed.”
Andrew rolled his eyes with a long-suffering look. “Fuck you. I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m capable of functioning on my own, you know.”
“Are you?” Logan said quietly. “Are you okay, Drew?”
Andrew’s jaw clenched, something almost fragile in his eyes. He looked at Logan uncertainly and said nothing.
Logan’s hands twitched toward him, but his ill-advised urge to comfort was interrupted by the knock on the door. Good timing.
Logan went to open it and thanked the maid for bringing him some clothes. He dropped the towel and started dressing unhurriedly as Andrew disappeared into the ensuite.
He was checking his emails on his phone when Andrew finally emerged from the bathroom, already dressed. He went still, looking at Logan with a strange expression on his face.
“What?” Logan said.
Andrew shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing,” he said, his lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m still not used to you being all…”
“Dressed?” Logan said with a snort.
“Yeah,” Andrew said, laughing a little. “It’s really throwing me off.”
They left the room together.
Logan ignored the curious looks that followed them everywhere, forcing himself to relax. After the solitude of the island, he was still struggling to adjust to having so many people sta
re at him all the time. A sideways glance at Andrew confirmed that the other man was faring much worse: there was so much tension in the way Andrew was carrying himself it looked like he might snap any moment, his eyes darting around nervously.
Frowning, Logan laid a hand on Andrew’s back. He’d half-expected Andrew to jump away from him skittishly, but instead, some of the tension seemed to bleed out of Andrew’s body. Andrew moved closer to him, walking so close that their shoulders bumped.
Logan’s frown deepened. He glanced down at Andrew’s hand. His fingers were clenching and unclenching.
It was a relief to finally reach the car.
Andrew sagged back into the passenger seat, running a hand over his face with a sigh. “Fuck.”
Fuck indeed. Logan hadn’t thought it was this bad.
He started the car, considering how to broach the subject while Andrew was putting his aunt’s address into his GPS.
“All these people… it seems a little too much sometimes, doesn’t it?” he said at last.
“Don’t patronize me,” Andrew said without much heat in his voice.
“I’m not patronizing you. You think it’s easy for me?”
Andrew shot him a sour look, his full lips pursing.
Logan fixed his gaze on the road.
“You’re not a mess,” Andrew said. “Not like me.”
“I feel uncomfortable around people, too.”
“But it isn’t as hard for you,” Andrew stated.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Why?” Andrew said, his voice full of bewilderment and misery.
Logan had to choose his words carefully. “I’ve gotten the impression that you always relied on your wife to be a steady presence for you. Your rock. You relied on her support a lot. Is that correct?”
Just a Bit Wrecked Page 9
