"Wait. Turn around. You got soap in your eyes."

Logan turned towards me and I carefully wiped the suds from his face. At some point, I forgot what I was doing. My hand slowed, gliding over his eyelids, nose, lips...My own eyes followed the movements, taking in his high cheekbones, the few days growth of beard he was rocking, and the way his mouth parted a little as he exhaled a short breath. 

I brushed his dark wet hair back before cupping the back of his neck. My fingers tangled in the hair there, and Logan's eyes opened. The heated gaze he threw at me was something I was never going to get tired of seeing. 

"God, you drive me crazy," I whispered, staring into those dark eyes. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in my chest. I had a feeling what it was. I was like...seventy percent sure. But I still couldn't seen to admit it to myself. Or to him.

The corner of Logan's mouth lifted. "Oh, yeah?" He leaned forward and dusted kisses along my jaw until he got to my neck. My head fell back against the tile wall. "How do I make you crazy?" 

"Hmm?" Was he speaking? I couldn't really focus on anything except what his mouth was doing right now.

"Tell me how I make you crazy. I want to hear it."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to focus. "Well, take this, for instance." 

He chuckled against my skin, sending chills straight to my dick—which was already hard and throbbing. After the many, many times we had sex since I've been at this cabin, I was amazed that I still wanted more. I guess we were trying to make up for lost time. Over the past few years, we've only been together a handful of times. 

Logan pulled his head away from my neck and met my stare. "You were saying."

My eyes dropped to his lips. "The way you kiss me..."

He licked at my lips, not fully kissing me though. "What about the way I kiss you?" Christ. I never pegged Logan as a tease, but this was fucking killing me. "Tell me," he urged. 

When he tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth, I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to crush my lips against his, but he pulled back with a laugh. 

"Ah, ah. You didn't answer my question."

Question...? "What—what was the..."

"What is it about the way I kiss you, Grant?"

Logan had his arms on either side of my head, caging me in as I leaned against the cold, wet tile. We were standing so close together that, when he leaned into me, his hard length brushed against mine. We both moaned at the contact and I reached for his hips, pulling him even closer. 

"Tell me," he demanded more forcefully, but thankfully didn't pull away.

My eyelids slid shut again as he continued to suck at my neck. "I can't think when you kiss me. Your lips, your tongue." He sucked harder at my neck and I groaned. "God, your tongue..." The things he could do with that thing. Fuck.

"What else about me drives you crazy?" he asked quietly. 

"The way you touch me. 

"Yeah? Like this?" He wrapped his hand around my dick and he hips shot forward, my fingers digging deeper into his waist, my teeth clenching. 

"Yes," I hissed. His hand gripped me with just enough pressure, his thumb grazing over the moist head. "Fuck, Logan..."

"What else?" 

I really wanted to tell him less talking and more fucking; but I knew he wouldn't budge on this. His message was clear: if I wanted more of him right now, he needed more from me. I was so lost to him, that I gave him what he wanted. 

"I'm—I'm crazy about you. Fuck, I'm so fucking...crazy about you." I couldn't say the other thing. I just wasn't ready. "God, yes. Please...make love to me, Logan."

His hand paused with the stroking and his head lifted from my neck. "What did you just say?" 

I gave him a small smile before I kissed him. My tongue dived into his mouth, seeking. Owning. Trying to tell him everything I couldn't say out loud. 

"Do it," I breathed against his lips. "Make love to me, Logan. Right now." 

That seemed to be good enough for him. He didn't waist any time when he stepped out of the shower, opened the drawer to grab a condom, and slipped it on. When he game back in, he closed the small distance between us, and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Turn around," he instructed. 

I turned and faced the shower wall. I placed my hands against the tile as the hot water started hitting my back. I felt his cock press against me, but he didn't enter me yet. He reached around me and started stroking me again. Then his voice was next to my ear. 

"Tell me again," he said raggedly. "Say it...again."

"Make love to me, Logan."

I felt Logan's tongue run along my spine from top to bottom. I leaned my forehead against the shower wall. This anticipation was going to kill me. I already knew what it felt like to have him inside me. Heaven. Blissful heaven. And I wanted more. His right hand left my waist and I knew he was getting ready to—

"Fuck..." The penetration was lightning fast. One deep stroke and he was all the way in. He paused briefly, leaning forward to turn my face with his hand so he could kiss me nice and slow. 

Then he started moving. He withdrew and pushed back inside me with long, lazy strokes. The kissing didn't stop either. His tongue stroked mine with the same tempo of his thrusting. Each time he pressed into me it brought me closer and closer to the brink. 

I thought about the first time we did this. When he fucked me in the bedroom, owning me in a way no one ever has before—he broke down a little bit of that wall that surrounded my heart. 

His words whispered through my mind again. 

"I love you," he had said. 

"Fuck." The memory of that night, combined with the way he was making slow, sweet love to me now, had me throwing my head back onto his shoulder. My release shot out of me and I called out his name over and over again. 

"Sir? Sir...your room is ready."

I looked up at the concierge before I grabbed my bags and walked up to the counter. She handed me my driver's license, credit card, and hotel room key. Yep. Here I was. Again. Checking into another hotel. I couldn't fucking believe this. I swear to God, or whoever...if I have to check into one more fucking hotel—

"It's room 521," the concierge said with a smile. 

I gave her a single nod. "Thanks, again." 

I slid the strap to my duffle bag higher on my shoulder before I walked to the elevator that took me up to my room. It was nearly midnight and I was exhausted. Not from the drive. No. This was more of a mental exhaustion. What happened with Logan was something I wish I could forget about. Not him, per se. I could never forget him. It was the fight. That fight felt way to fucking real. 

God. The look on his face when he said it was over between us—for good—shattered me. When he said what he did about my parents, I felt sick. Even though he was right in a way, it still fucking made me sick. I couldn't ever imagine having that talk with them. Not after everything they did and said while I was growing up. Then they basically disowned me. Yeah...there was no conversating with them. 

Besides, he wasn't the only one who did something wrong. Yeah, he lied to me and that pissed me off, but I shouldn't have called Amelia behind his back. I had a sneaky suspicion that he wasn't being completely honest with me about telling his parents. Instead of calling Amelia, I should have just talked to Logan. I should have asked if he was telling the truth. 

I laid back on the bed and my eyes watched the blades of the fan go round and round. I had no idea how long it was before I fell asleep...

Ring-ring

I shot up from the bed and grabbed my phone from my pocket. My face fell. I was hoping it was Logan. I pushed the accept button.

"Vanessa?" 

"Hi. Did I wake you?"

I glanced at the clock. It was ten in the morning. "Uh, no. It's fine. Are you okay?" 

When she hesitated, I got worried. "Yeah. I'm fine." She cleared her throat on the other line. "Can you come over? We need to talk."

Yes, we did. Even though Logan said we were done, it didn't change the fact that deep down I didn't want to be with Vanessa. I needed to end it with her. Officially. 

"Yeah. I can be there in about thirty minutes."

"Okay. See you then." 

I ran my hands over my face, trying to wake myself up. I stretched in the bed before I got up and walked to the bathroom. I glanced around the small space. I really needed to find an apartment or something. I was really starting to hate hotels. I did my morning routine before I changed my clothes and left my room. 

I walked to my car and started heading towards Vanessa's. I stopped at Starbucks on the way and grabbed my usual Café Americano with an extra espresso shot. God's gift. When I finally got to her house, I parked behind her car in the driveway. I walked to the front door and reached for the knob. 

Shit. I should knock. Right? I knocked lightly three times and waited a few seconds for her to answer. She pulled open the door with an awkward smile. 

"Hey." She pulled the door back and held it open for me. "Come in. Please."

I walked inside and wiped my shoes on the rug. "You doing okay?"

She shut the door and came beside me. "Uh, yeah." 

She was being awkward again. There was something she wasn't telling me. 

"Vanessa? Is there something wrong?"

"Well—"

"Hello, son."

My heart stopped beating. Right then and there. I glanced to the right and I felt it. I felt like I was that twelve-year-old-boy again. He was standing in the foyer. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a dark blue Ralph Lauren polo, he didn't look any different. 

When I finally spoke, my voice came low and scratchy. Barely understandable. 

"Dad..."

Let me say...I loved writing that intimate scene for Logan and Grant. Since I had a medical procedure done today, I was worried about getting this finished in time to post. Luckily, its here! As you read...Grant's dad is back. Yeah, we don't like him 🙄 I'm so nervous for what happens next. I just love my two boys so much. Happy reading! And the early release of the first chapter of Tryst is up now! Thanks for reading xoxo 🖤