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I’m not desperate the way I was last time, but the need for him is still there. I replay the way Logan sounded—the low groans, the way he said my name—and my cock starts to perk up. His moans were the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, and I want to be the reason he makes those sounds again.

Logan grabs the new bottle of lube from the bedside table and pushes his pants down, kicking them off his feet. His semi-hard cock springs free and he squirts some lube in his palm and starts stroking himself slowly in front of me. My eyes are locked on the movement, watching every little twist of his wrist.

“Touch yourself,” Logan’s commanding, gravely voice instructs, and fuck, I obey.

Logan lets out a muffled groan that shoots straight through me, and some of my nerves begin to fade. Heat pools low in my stomach, and I mimic his earlier movements—stripping off my pants and slicking myself up with lube. I let out a shaky breath as I stroke myself.

“Ryder,” Logan says, his voice low and rough.

“Yeah?”

“You’re so quiet tonight. You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah…need a little more to get into it tonight, that’s all.” I don’t know how else to explain it—that I’m waiting for his moans to hit me like they did last time, so I can get lost in him.

Logan groans again, the sound quiet but deep, and his hand moves faster now. “Anything I can do?” he asks.

“I want to hear you moan,” I say, completely shameless in my desires. “Then I want you to touch me.”

Logan’s whole body tenses, and he lets out a sharp, guttural sound. “Oh fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, Ryder. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I turn my head to look at him, owning what I just said. His lips are parted now, and his eyes meet mine. We’re so close again. As close as last time, lying side by side with our heads on the pillows. God, he looks good.Has he always looked this good? How the hell did he go from my best friend to this? To the only person I desire?

“Keep going,” Logan says, his voice low and commanding. “Keep touching your cock, Ry. Grab my wrist when you want me to touch you.”

I want it now, so I grab his hand instantly and guide it to my cock, and the second his fingers wrap around me, he loses it. The moan he lets out at my cock in his hand makes me gasp and reach for him in return, my hand sliding around his cock like it belongs there. My strokes pick up, breath coming fast and shallow, my whole body trembling under the ever-building pressure.

“Oh, fuck.” The words slip from my lips like I don’t even have control of them.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Logan asks, all breathy.

“Yes. Fuck, yes—it feels so good. I’m obsessed with your hands on me.”

His groans mix with mine, low and needy, and for a second, it feels like the rest of the world disappears. It’s just him and me and the sound of my name falling from his lips over and over—it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

“I want to try something,” he says. “Can I?”

I don’t even care what it is—I want it.I want him.So I pant out a desperate, “Yes.”

He lets go of me, and I immediately whimper at the loss of contact.

“I got you, Ry. Sit up,” he instructs, and I do.

I move, pressing my back against the headboard, my heart beating erratically with anticipation. He straddles my lap, facing me so closely, bare skin pressed against mine, our velvety straining cocks brushing together, and it sends a bolt of heat straight through me. He’s heavy in a way that’s impossible to ignore, and I’m really into it. His weight feels grounding. He’s all muscle and warmth and hard edges, it’s like being fully surrounded by him in a way I’ve never felt with any of my previous partners.

Before I can fully register what’s happening, his hand wraps around both of us, and he starts stroking.

Oh fuck.

I’ve read about frotting before—hell, I’ve narrated scenes like this, described it in explicit detail. I thought I understood the pleasure, thought I’d read these moments enough to know exactly what it’d feel like. But nothing compares to the real thing. Nothing even touches it. This is so much better than anything I could’ve imagined.

This must be what Logan meant when he teased me aboutmissing out on essential research by never hooking up with a man before.

His silky cock drags against mine in the best way and his breath hitches when I rock my hips up to meet his rhythm. It’s all so much, and yet, not close to enough. His grip on us is perfect; it’s steady and firm, and I never want him to stop touching me.

Every time he groans, it drives me closer and closer to the edge. I want more. Need more. But I never want this to end.

He leans forward to press his forehead to mine. His breath ghosts my lips, and once again, I think about leaning forward and kissing him while his hand is wrapped around our leaking cocks.