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FORTY-ONE

Fuck Away the Pain - Divide The Day

I kiss Logan right back, pressing into him as much as he is into me. His taste is heady and masculine, making my world spin. Because I don’t hate it. Actually, I might fucking love it.

Logan makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a moan, and I blink back to reality for a second.

“No.” Logan presses me back. “Stay.”

His lips are nipping, sucking, chasing me. I fucking love the chase. I pull back again, looking into Logan’s blue eyes as I breathe, “Make me.”

There’s a flash of something in Logan’s eyes, and then he’s on me, using his big body to back me through the kitchen and down the hall. My heart is racing, and I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Fuck, I’m definitely not ready for this.

So then, why does it feel so right?

“Careful.” Logan grabs me right as I stumble into a wall, but I don’t feel it. I feel warm and scared and fucking hard .

Logan leans into me, rubbing his hand down my pants and cupping my dick. He groans, rubbing me up and down. “You’re so hard for me.”

I can’t do anything but moan, flexing my hips into him. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve never had sex with a man before.

I think I must panic for a second because suddenly Logan is shushing me and pushing me back into the bedroom. Then, I’m on the bed, and he’s on top of me, kissing me again, smelling so good, like soap and aftershave, and heat floods my dick. I’m so worked up it feels like I could come at any moment.

“Ronan,” Logan moans into my lips. “Ronan, Ronan, Ronan .”

I grunt, remembering that he just likes me because I look like his ex.

I try to shove him off me, but Logan isn’t having it. He just pins me to the mattress, peppering kisses and bites across my neck. “Never,” nip , “scare me,” nip , “again.”

“Logan…” I try to protest, but it feels good. Everything feels so fucking good . Then Logan’s pulling my pants down and kissing up my stomach. He’s worshiping me, almost like he actually cares.

But he doesn’t. To him, I’m just his ex.

I struggle to sit up, shoving Logan back. I need him to stop. I need him to fucking stop . “I’m not Greyson.”

Logan’s eyes are glazed over, palming my dick. My very hard dick, and glances up at me. I swallow. The drunk part of me wants this. Wants to say fuck it and let him go all the way. But the tiny, annoying part of me that sees reality is screaming.

I shove back, making sure he hears it. “I’m not Greyson, and I never will be.”