Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
TODD
By the time we pull into his apartment building, I’m wrecked. Not from the club or the game.
From him.
From the way Logan keeps reaching over to touch me. A thumb along my thigh. Fingers tracing circles on the back of my neck. Every red light was another stolen kiss, another second where he leaned over the console like he couldn’t not touch me.
And I’m gone for him.
I’m so far gone I don’t even hesitate when he parks and throws it in park. I unclip my seatbelt and reach for him at the same time he does me, mouths crashing together again in a kiss that’s messy and impatient and full of promise.
It takes everything in me to break away, breathless, and push open my door. We tumble out of the Jeep like we’ve got a countdown ticking in our heads.
The lobby is empty.
The elevator dings open like it wants to help us make bad decisions.
We step inside. The doors close.
And then—he’s on me.
He slams me gently but firmly against the elevator wall and kisses me like he’s starving. Like I’m oxygen, and he hasn’t had a clean breath in days. My hands fist in his hoodie, my legs barely keeping me upright because fuck, this kiss.
It’s not like before.
This one sinks into my bones.
His tongue strokes deep and slow, taking his time, memorizing me from the inside out. His hand grips my waist, grounding me, holding me steady as his mouth steals every logical thought I had left.
And I can’t think.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t stop.
I’m light-headed. Heart pounding. There’s this stupid swoop in my stomach—like the elevator’s dropping, but it’s me, not the ground moving. As if I’m weightless under the heat of his touch.
My chest brushes his with every shallow breath. Our hips grind just enough to make me want more, and I’m clinging to him now, openly needy in a way I’ve never let myself be.
Not with anyone.
And I don’t care.
Because this—this—is what I want.
What I’ve wanted since that first message. That first night. Hell before that…when he stepped foot into my locker room and onto my team after not seeing him for years.
He kisses me until I’m dizzy with it, until my lips are swollen and wet and the elevator dings again.
The doors open. Neither of us moves. Because I don’t want this kiss to end.
And judging by the way Logan groans low in his throat, neither does he.
The doors slide shut again, but the elevator doesn’t move.
When we finally break apart, my cock is rock hard and already leaking pre-cum into my boxers. I feel like a horny teenager—two seconds from blowing my load in my pants.
He cups my cheek and tugs my bottom lip down, his brown gaze hungry and dark with want. Then he smiles, and my heart tries to crawl up my throat and hand itself to him.
Logan presses the button to open the doors again, his thumb holding it down like he doesn’t trust himself not to drag me straight to the floor.
Probably smart.
The second they part with a soft ding, he grabs my hand and pulls me out—fast, but not rushed. Controlled chaos.
The hallway is dim, quiet. Everyone’s asleep or gone for the night. It’s practically silent, except for the low hum of overhead lighting and the sound of our footsteps.
And our breathing.
God, our breathing.
He pushes me into the wall just past the elevator, his mouth crashing into mine again like he couldn’t go another second. My hands fist in the hem of his shirt, wanting to pull it off of him. Fuck. I forget how to breathe entirely.
“Logan—” I whisper against his mouth, but he doesn’t stop kissing me, just shifts to nip down my jaw, like he can taste how bad I want him.
“Shh,” he murmurs, right against my throat. “You wanna wake the whole floor?”
No. I want him to ruin me.
But also, no.
I bite my bottom lip and nod, and we keep going, tripping down the hall like we’ve got one brain cell between us and it’s focused on tongue and teeth and goddamn friction.
He crowds me every few feet—pinning me for a second against the wall or doorframe, hands gripping my hips or cupping the back of my neck like he can’t stand the inches of space between us.
Somehow, we make it to his door.
He fumbles with the keys, and I swear the moment he gets it open, we’re going to combust. Because if this is how we fall apart fully clothed…
I don’t even know who I am after tonight.
The lock clicks, and Logan shoves the door open, hand already on my back, guiding me in.
Then he slams it shut.
And I don’t even get a chance to take in the apartment before he’s on me again—back hitting the wall, lips colliding into mine, as though I’m the only thing he’s needed and he’s finally letting himself have it.
I moan into the kiss, already panting, already aching. My body’s on fire. Muscles tight, blood hot, cock straining so hard against my jeans I’m seconds from begging.
His hands are everywhere—my chest, my jaw, my hips.
He cups the back of my neck and drags me further into the apartment, bumping blindly into furniture as he moves us, tilting his head to kiss me even harder, and it’s not smooth anymore.
It’s clumsy and frantic and so full of teeth I can’t tell where the hunger ends and the anger starts.
Because I know the anger is still there, simmering just beneath everything.
“Fuck,” I whisper when we break apart, only for him to lean in and bite my bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth before letting it go with a soft pop.
“You drive me insane,” he growls. “You know that? I can’t get enough of your fucking mouth. Of the taste of you.”
I nod, dazed. “You told me to go,” I say, dragging that back to the forefront of everything.
His gaze darkens, jaw tight. “And you did.”
That stings again—sharp and stupid and still raw. I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. Just grabs both of my wrists, walking me back into the wall, and pins them over my head.
“You really think I wanted you to walk away?” he whispers, forehead brushing mine. “You think I wanted to watch you go?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you wanted.”
“I wanted you.” His grip tightens. “I still do.”
My breath catches, chest heaving. I don’t answer—I can’t. Not with the way his thigh presses between my legs, not with the way his eyes dare me to deny that I want him too.
So I kiss him instead.
Hard.
Messy.
Desperate.
He lets me. For a second. Then he growls again and shoves me back harder against the wall, hands already yanking at my clothes. His mouth moves to my neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, and I don’t even care. I want to feel it tomorrow. Want to remember this exact second.
My hoodie hits the floor. Then my shirt. Logan steps back, breath shallow as he looks at me—eyes dragging over every inch of bare skin like he’s trying to memorize it.
Then he steps forward again, and I’m gone.
Totally fucking gone.
Logan grabs my wrist again and pulls me away from the wall—walking me backward through his apartment like he knows I can’t tear my eyes off him.
I don’t even try.
My chest’s bare, jeans already halfway undone, and I’m too turned on to care what I look like. Too needy to feel anything except him.
The back of my knees hit the edge of his bed, and I sit automatically, breath catching when he drops to his knees in front of me.
“Don’t—” My voice breaks. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
His fingers skim my waistband, eyes locked on mine. “You gonna let me?”
I nod.
Then I nod again, harder, because words feel impossible with the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m his favorite sin.
He pulls off one shoe and then the other, then I lift my hips enough to help him get me out of my clothes. My jeans and boxers hit the floor, and he exhales this sound—somewhere between a curse and a prayer—as though he’s seeing me for the first time and I’m everything he’s been holding back from.
And then his mouth is on me.
Hot and wet and perfect—his lips wrapping around the head of my cock, tongue teasing the sensitive back side, he already knows exactly how to make me fall apart.
I groan, hips twitching, fingers gripping his hair before I can stop myself. “Fuck, yes,” I moan as I hit the back of his throat and he swallows around my crown. “Oh holy mother fucking shit.”
He hums around me, sending vibrations down my spine and making my thighs tremble. I swear I’m gonna come in seconds if he keeps this up. But then he pulls off with a soft pop, lips shiny, eyes wrecked.
“Not like that,” he mutters, pushing to his feet and stripping out of his clothes in record time. Then he climbs over me, kissing up my body. “Not this time.”
I don’t even know what this time means, but I’m too far gone to ask.
His mouth finds mine again as he straddles my lap, grinding down until our cocks press together, bare and leaking, and I nearly lose it on the spot. The feel of him against me, hot and hard and ready to fuck me, has me arching up into him and spreading my legs.
“Logan—”
“Shut up,” he says, kissing me again. Slower now. Like he’s trying to taste me, not just devour me.
His hands cradle my jaw, thumbs brushing my cheeks, and the way he’s looking at me—it’s not just heat and lust and anger anymore.
It’s more.
Too much.
“You still want this?” he whispers.
I nod.
“I need to hear it.”
“Yes,” I pant. “Yes. I want you.”
“Good,” he growls, mouth claiming mine again.
When he grinds against me again, slow and deep, I let out a noise I’ve never made before. High and needy, and one hundred percent destroyed.
His hands slide down my thighs, parting them more with a gentle firmness that makes me shiver.
He leans down, lips brushing my ear.
“Been thinking about this every fucking night since you blew me in that shower.”
“Then why did you freeze me out?”
“I didn’t.” His voice is rough. “I just… I didn’t know how to do this without losing my mind.”
“You kind of already have.”
He laughs, breathless, nipping at my throat. “Yeah. On you.”
He doesn’t rush.
That surprises me.
After everything, I thought he’d tear into me like a man starved—because that’s exactly how I feel. But instead, Logan touches me like I’m something worth taking his time on.
His mouth brushes down my chest, nipping at the edge of each rib like he’s mapping my body in memory. My hips jerk when his tongue flicks over the dip of my stomach.
“Easy,” he murmurs, his hand braced on my thigh. “You’ll get what you want.”
“You’re a cocky bastard.”
He grins. “You love it.”
He’s not wrong.
He kisses lower, and I arch—helpless under the warmth of his mouth and the scrape of his stubble. “I need your mouth on me.”
I thread my fingers into his hair, attempting to encourage him in the direction I need him to go, and he laughs, then kisses along my oblique. Open-mouthed, hot, wet kisses, until my cock is so jumpy for his attention that I scrape my fingers over his scalp.
“Impatient, aren’t you, Captain?”
“Suck me.”
He laughs and drops a kiss to my swollen head. “No.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He hums and flicks my slit with his tongue, and I moan loudly at the sensation. “Am I?”
“Yessss—” the single word gets dragged out as he sucks me into his mouth and hollows his cheeks. “Oh fuck.”
“Yeah,” he teases as he releases me with a loud pop. His hand travels over my inner thigh and runs over my taint to my crack, and I swear my dick weeps. Then he presses a single finger inside of me, it stings slightly before pure pleasure takes over as he presses into my prostate.
God, he knows exactly where that is.
“Beg me, Todd, tell me how much you want me, baby.”
When I just gasp, he withdraws his finger and sits back on his heels.
His dick juts out proudly from his body, leaking a string of pre-cum down onto his thighs.
I lick my lips, unable to pull my gaze away from his hard length.
My heart thuds in my throat and my dick at the same time.
I’m going to do exactly what he’s told me to do.
I sit up, legs still wide and framing him. Then I reach for his dick and stroke it long and slow. Tugging it toward me, encouraging his hips to tilt forward. My other hand palms his balls and rolls them, squeezing gently.
“Please, Logan. Let me feel your dick deep inside of me again. It’s all I’ve thought of for over a week. The slide of your bare skin against mine, what it felt like to have your cum leaking out of me the whole next day. I need you to fill me up. Multiple times. Please.”
He lets out a half-moan, half-growl. “Such a good fucking boy,” he mutters, and the next thing I know, I’m on my back, and he’s grinding our cocks together until I’m seeing stars.
He palms both our cocks together, stroking with just enough pressure to make me pant.
It’s messy. Slippery. The kind of friction that sets every nerve on fire.
“Logan—”
“Look at me.”
I do.
“I’m going to jack us off, and then I’m going to use our combined cum as lube, so I can fuck you until you wish I could just climb inside of you. Do you want that?”
“God yes.”
“Good.”
He has us both moaning, running his palm over both of our heads, and squeezing us together.
I fall over the edge, cum spurting onto my chest between us, and he follows seconds after.
His warm release mixing with mine. We breathe for a minute while he strokes us through our orgasms. Then he presses a soft kiss to my lips and leans back on his heels again.
His eyes fall to the mess on my stomach and chest, and he smiles, dragging two fingers through it. Then he uses it exactly how he said he would and starts working every last drop into my ass. By the time he’s finished, I’m hard again and panting for more.
He moves between my legs, nudging my thighs wider before looping them over his hips. He lines up at my entrance and nudges his head past the ring of muscle. A hand wrapping around mine when I tense.
And then—he pushes in deeper, slow and steady, both of us groaning at the same time.
Fuck.
It’s too much and not enough. He’s thick, burning, stretching me in a way that makes my eyes roll back.
But I don’t tell him to stop.
I won’t.
Because nothing has ever felt more right than being filled by him.
“Jesus,” he chokes, rocking into me. “You feel—fuck, you feel so good, baby.”
My hands scramble over his back, my nails dragging across his shoulder blades as he bottoms out.
And then we move.
His rhythm is ruthless—perfect. Deep thrusts that knock the air from my lungs. Every stroke pushes a sound from me I don’t recognize.
Not until his hand finds my cock again, stroking me in time with each snap of his hips.
Then I really fall apart.
I come with a strangled gasp, spilling across my stomach, my whole body trembling as he fucks me through it.
And when he chokes my name, snapping forward and burying his face against my throat—
I feel it.
All of it.
The heat, the want, the everything we’ve been pretending didn’t exist.