Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Ethan stepped through the wooden door, which groaned faintly on its hinges as it closed behind them.
The heat hit him like a wall, then wrapped around his body, seeping into his pores and stealing the air from his lungs.
He barely managed a shaky breath before lowered himself onto a slatted bench along one side. He sank against the warm wood, still clutching his towel as though it were a lifebuoy.
It wasn’t just fabric, it was armor, a thin but crucial barrier between him and everything he didn’t yet know how to face.
Logan leaned casually against the bench opposite, one powerful arm draped across the backrest as though he owned the space. His posture radiated ease, but his eyes were fixed on Ethan.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a slow, deliberate grin as he watched Ethan continue to fuss with the knot of his towel. “You won’t need that,” he said at last, his voice carrying that unmistakable note of authority. “Hand it over.”
Reluctance twisted through Ethan like a coiled spring tightening. The towel was a comfort in an unfamiliar situation, covering his vulnerability.
But Logan’s tone wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. And with trembling hands, Ethan unwrapped the towel from around him. His nerves buzzed under his skin like static, every inch of flesh he bared made him feel exposed.
Free of the towel’s embrace, he spread it flat on the bench, then sat on it. He kept his eyes downcast, unwilling—or unable—to meet Logan’s gaze.
Logan tracked his every move. There was no malice in his expression, but there was something else—something primal that made Ethan’s stomach flip. The way Logan looked at him wasn’t casual or disinterested, it was deliberate. He lingered on every curve of smooth skin now glossed with sweat under the dim light.
He’d already hung his own towel on a peg, and stashed the rolled-up one in his hand on the shelf above—hiding a little surprise he had planned.
Ethan couldn’t help himself, his eyes locked on Logan. The angle he was sitting was torture. His head was almost level with Logan’s waist and heat flooded his face, embarrassment and desire colliding within him. He jerked his eyes away, floundering for somewhere safe to look, and sighed.
Logan caught it. He stepped forward and stood directly in front of Ethan. “You’re nervous.”
Ethan forced himself to look up despite every instinct screaming at him not to. His gaze landed somewhere around Logan’s chest before darting away again. “I’m not—” he started to protest, but stopped as Logan kneeled down before him.
“Don’t lie, I can see it all over your face.”
Ethan swallowed hard, struggling to breathe in the air that felt too thick for his lungs. “I just… I’ve never…” He trailed off helplessly.
Logan reached out, glancing his fingers across Ethan’s cheek with surprising tenderness. “So,” he asked as his thumb traced slow circles just below his jaw. “You done this before?”
The touch felt electric, and sent sparks racing across Ethan’s skin. He blinked rapidly as if trying to clear the fog from his mind. “A sauna?” he asked after a beat too long.
“No,” Logan chuckled. “You know I don’t mean the sauna. Have you been with a man before?” he asked, not accusatory or judgmental but with straightforward curiosity—as though he were asking about the weather rather than a deeply personal truth.
Ethan almost choked as he sucked in a breath. “No.” The word stumbled out as fire blazed in his cheeks.
He wanted to lie. Oh, God, how he wanted to lie— to say yes with a confidence he didn’t possess and claim an experience that wasn’t his. He wanted to meet Logan’s gaze with unwavering assurance and tell him he knew exactly what he was doing. But those eyes… Logan’s eyes were relentless, they bore into him like they could strip him down to his very core and lay bare every secret he’d ever tried to hide.
There was no lying under the scrutiny of that gaze. None at all.
The truth. He’d had fantasies, sure—in fact there were countless nights imagining things. But real? Well, there had been that drunken encounter with Adam, but they’d both stopped that before it could become anything serious.
“No,” he repeated, quietly.
“Good.” Logan’s smile widened, and there was something possessive in his eyes.
Good? The word ricocheted through Ethan’s mind like a bullet, leaving confusion and panic in its wake. Good? What the hell did he mean by that? Did he mean good because hadn’t crossed some unspoken line? Or good because he was safe to dismiss him now? Or was it something else entirely?
Doubt gnawed at Ethan as his thoughts spiraled out of control. His breath hitched as his mind raced ahead of itself, spinning out worst-case scenarios faster than he could chase them down.
Did I misread this whole situation? Maybe Logan was testing him—checking for a weakness or vulnerability, seeing if Ethan had compromised himself in some way. That would explain the intensity in his expression, wouldn’t it?
But then why did it feel like something else?
Logan tilted his head like the way someone would study an unfinished puzzle. His voice became quieter, but no less commanding. “What do you think of me?”
“Think of you?” The question landed like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of Ethan’s already struggling lungs. “Uh… well…” He hesitated for what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds at most. “You’re…” he searched desperately for words that wouldn’t betray too much. “You’re a great leader,” he finally managed to say. “Strong. Smart. Powerful…”
His voice faltered, stopping short of saying everything else that lingered on the tip of his tongue—the unspoken thoughts that would betray just how deeply Logan affected him.
Logan didn’t press. Instead, he let the silence linger between them just long enough for Ethan’s nerves to fray under the weight of it. It was like he knew exactly what effect he was having.
“And what do you think of my body?” he said after a beat, moving closer.
Shit. Ethan shifted in his seat as flames crawled up his spine. “Uh… well, you work out, keep fit… so you look good, I guess. That’s if I was looking. Which I don’t.” The lie hung in the air like smoke: flimsy, transparent, yet still impossible to ignore.
Logan arched a brow, quietly contemplating for a moment before he continued. “So you don’t look at my body?”
Ethan’s heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out every other sound around them—his own breathing included. He couldn’t meet Logan’s gaze anymore and his eyes darted everywhere else, the floor, the faint scuff marks on the wall behind Logan’s shoulder, anywhere but those damn eyes.
“Uh…” he started, then trailed off. He fidgeted nervously before forcing himself to continue. “I don’t know if I gave you… the wrong idea, but…”
Logan cut through Ethan’s rambling with his next statement. “Are you saying you don’t want this?” His tone remained steady, calm and measured in a way that made it clear there would be no avoiding the question this time. “Yes or no, straight answer.”
Ethan’s head snapped up, startled by the directness of the demand. For one agonizing second, their eyes locked in an exchange too raw to hide behind anymore.
“Yes,” he blurted out before he could stop. His chest tightened, a painful knot forming just below his sternum as if his body was rebelling against the admission.
Guilt and shame surged through him and yet beneath it all, desire simmered, refusing to be extinguished by the weight of regret.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, in a desperate bid to salvage what little dignity he had left. “And I’ll understand if you want me off the?—”
Logan’s loud laugh cut through before he grabbed Ethan’s chin and forced his gaze back. “Look at me.”
Ethan resisted, but Logan’s grip was unyielding. “I said fucking look at me. No one can know about this.” His tone carried an edge that made it clear this wasn’t just advice—it was a command. “If we do this, it stays between us. No exceptions. Navy rules don’t play favorites. It doesn’t matter who you are or who you’re with. Male or female—it doesn’t matter.” He paused for emphasis, letting his words sink in before continuing. “This can’t happen. You get that?”
Ethan nodded as Logan’s hand anchored him. “I understand.”
“This isn’t me, it’s the rules.” He held Ethan’s gaze, ensuring there would be no room for misinterpretation. “Clear?”
Is he serious? Logan Lockwood wants this? Wants me?
Another nod, Ethan’s heart pounding harder as he fought to steady himself. “I won’t say anything.”
Logan exhaled sharply through his nose and released Ethan’s chin. “Good,” he said simply, stepping back just enough to give them both space to breathe.
He tilted his head and spoke again. “And you need to learn control. No more obvious signals in briefings, no telling glances, no unnecessary contact. When I say control, I meant it. At work, this doesn’t exist. It never happened. Got it?”
Ethan wiped moisture from his brow. “I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t know I was doing that.”
“Kid,” Logan laughed harder. “Short of announcing it in front of the entire team, you couldn’t be more obvious.” His gaze raked over Ethan’s flushed face. “All that has to stop. If you can’t control yourself around me, then this doesn’t happen. I won’t risk my career. Understand?”
Ethan nodded, still processing everything he just said. “I’ll do whatever it takes…” he gasped. “I can control it, I swear.”
Logan looked skeptical as he glanced between Ethan’s legs. “Doesn’t look like you’ve got much control to me.”
“Sorry,” Ethan shut his eyes, struggling for composure. “It’s just… I’ve never—” He swallowed. “I promise, I’ve got this.”
Logan leaned in so close that the heat of his breath brushed against Ethan’s cheek. His thumb then traced the curve of his lips, the touch both possessive and tender, as if memorizing their shape.
The kiss was nothing like Ethan had ever experienced before. The rough scrape of stubble against his chin was an unfamiliar thrill, and so different from the soft and gentle kisses he’d shared with women. There was nothing gentle about this, no tentative exploration—just raw, unrestrained desire.
Logan’s tongue swept against Ethan’s lips, demanding entry in a way that left no doubt.
It was claiming, consuming, and Ethan couldn’t help the groan that escaped him—soft, needy, and entirely involuntary. “Mmm…” the sound vibrated with the intensity of it all.
The sheer masculinity of the kiss was overwhelming in a way that made his head spin.
Ethan wanted to respond, but uncertainty held him back. His mind raced with questions that tangled with his desires.
Can I touch him? Do I wait? He’s my superior… hell, what do I do?
Logan didn’t leave any room for doubt. He reached up, threading his fingers into Ethan’s damp curls and tugging him closer. The pull was firm but not rough. Commanding without being forceful. His stubbled jaw brushing against Ethan’s smooth skin as if branding him.
“Mmmm…” The sound tore from Ethan’s throat as something inside him snapped. It was like a dam breaking and with a surge of courage born from longing, he grabbed Logan’s head with both hands and dragged him down to meet a kiss of his own.
It was a clash of lips and tongues as he poured every ounce of need into it. His arms tightened around Logan’s shoulders, afraid to let go. Strength surged through his body as he matched Logan’s intensity with a newfound confidence. He tasted salt and heat, a heady combination that left him almost dizzy.
“Oh my God…” he gasped and when they finally broke apart for air, his chest heaved as though he’d just run a marathon. The exhilaration surged through his veins like a wildfire. “Logan, I want this so much,” he beamed.
“Whoa, slow down there, Goldilocks.” Logan eased him back with a firm hand. “We’re not doing this today. Not now I know for sure it’s your first time.”
“What?” Ethan’s stomach dropped. “But I thought… all this…” Confusion stung, sharp and bitter. “And why would you kiss me like that if you’re not going to follow through? Are you messing with me? Toying with my emotions?” His voice rose with each question until it finally cracked on the last word. Turning away, he clenched his fists as anger mixed with rejection.
“I’m not messing with you.” Logan’s expression softened as he saw the pain flicker across Ethan’s features—it cut him deeper than he expected or liked. “We will do this,” he assured. “Just not today.” He frowned, struggling to find the right words to explain himself without causing any more hurt.
Finally, he met Ethan’s gaze head-on. “You’re not ready today.”
“Not ready?” Ethan’s voice cracked in sheer disbelief. “I am ready. I want this. God, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment—for you.”
“I know what you want.” Logan kissed him again, gentler this time. “But trust me, you’re not ready. When this happens, I want it to be everything you deserve. I want it to be perfect.”
His voice dipped, a velvety resolve threading through each word. “Your first time shouldn’t hurt. It should be something you look back on and smile about, not something that leaves you unsure. We’ll take it slow, so when it happens, you’ll enjoy every second of it.”
Ethan blinked rapidly, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. His hands fisted at his sides as he fought to stop himself from interrupting Logan’s heartfelt words. But the ache inside him had only grown stronger. “If the problem is doing it here… then fine, we can go back to my place. No one will see us there. But don’t stand there and tell me I’m not ready when I know damn well I am.”
Logan’s jaw tightened. Part of him wanted to take Ethan right here, right now, but he knew he’d regret it. And Ethan mattered too much.
“No,” he said, the single syllable weighted.
He stepped closer and cupped Ethan’s face with both hands. His thumbs brushed over his cheekbones in slow circles as he forced himself to meet those pleading blue eyes head-on. “I want this to be right for you,” he said firmly, though there was a gentle warmth in his tone that softened the blow of his refusal. “If we do it now—like this—it won’t be what you deserve.”
Ethan stared at him in silence for a moment before slumping back onto the bench with a frustrated groan. He buried his hands in his hair, then leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“You can’t leave me like this.” He lifted his head enough to glare through strands of his messy hair.
“Look at me,” Logan said softly but firmly, tilting Ethan’s chin until their gazes met once more.
Ethan’s stubborn streak offered resistance at first, but eventually he relented, and Logan saw the storm of emotions swirling in those blue irises. Frustration warring with longing, anger clashing with vulnerability.
“This is me taking care of you.” There was no room for argument in his tone. “That’s my responsibility, and I can’t do that when you’re acting like this.”
Ethan flinched, his rebellion softening. “Sorry, it’s just I want this so much.”
“I know.” Logan’s expression dissolved into something almost tender as he reached to brush aside the stray locks of hair framing Ethan’s face. “And I never said we wouldn’t address what you’re feeling.” He offered a playful smirk, a hint of something sparking briefly in his otherwise serious demeanor.
“Do you mean now?” Ethan was uncertain what he meant, but couldn’t stop smiling.
“Yeah,” Logan replied with a grin as he leaned in. “Right now.”