Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Ethan lurched into the stall at the end and slammed the door shut. The metal rattled as he leaned against it, chest heaving as he fumbled with his fly, freeing himself.
“Ahhh...” Relief flooded through him as the pressure eased, his body’s betrayal was now evident.
He pressed his forehead to the door, the chipped paint rough against his skin.
His body ached.
I have to end this. He flipped the toilet lid up and leaned over it, one hand braced on the wall behind for support. The toy shifted and another wave of pleasure ripped through him—hot, electric, setting his whole body ablaze.
“Fuck…” he groaned, as images of Logan on the massage table, golden skin oiled and gleaming, cock thick and erect under Devon’s hands, flooded his mind.
It was burned into his brain, like an obsession he couldn’t shake, drowning out the mission, the team, everything.
He coiled his fingers around himself, the contact both relief and torment. Long, slow strokes—hesitant at first, punishment for the guilt that gnawed at him.
His breath came in ragged bursts.
This is pathetic , he thought, anger flaring. Because you couldn’t follow one simple rule.
Logan’s warning rang loud—don’t cross the line—and here he was, ignoring it.
Dumb move... You knew better. Now look at the situation you’re in.
Shame dissolved, and the rhythm took over, his movements growing more fluid. He pictured yesterday, all the promises of more, and the tension rose within him.
Fuck. He gritted his teeth, imagining Logan’s presence instead of his solitude, then moaned as his pace quickened.
“Ethan… you in there, buddy?” Brick’s fist pounded on the stall door, shattering the moment.
Ethan froze. “What do you want?” he snapped, breathless and desperate. “Can’t a guy get some privacy around here? Go away.”
“Logan sent me to check on you. You wanna sit this one out?” Brick’s tone was edged with concern.
“No, I’m fine,” Ethan lied, struggling to maintain his composure. “Just... give me a minute. I’ll be right there.” Another sound slipped out, too loud in such a small space.
“You sure you’re okay?” Brick knocked harder. “Only you sound off. Is somethin’ wrong? Answer me.”
“I said I’m good—leave me alone.” Ethan’s response came in broken fragments, breath uneven. “I just need a minute.” He tried to quiet himself, praying Brick wouldn’t hear.
Another bang rattled the door. “You don’t sound so good. I’m gettin’ Tank.”
“NO!” Ethan’s voice cracked with genuine alarm. “Please… if you get Tank, Logan’ll drop me from the op.” He was right at the edge, and Brick just wouldn’t fucking leave. “It’s something I ate, I swear.”
He couldn’t hold back, his body surrendered, muscles tensing as he finished.
Ahhh... He bit down, trapping the sound in his throat, his frame shaking. “Oh God...” he sighed and closed his eyes.
Humiliation burned through him as release arrived, excuses spilling out like a teenager caught in the act.
“Alright, I’m out,” Brick said, clearly unconvinced. “But I’m down the hall if you need me, got it?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Ethan was doubly relieved as he heard the outer door close, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead before he sagged against the wall.
The immediate urgency had passed, but the toy…
Enough of this. He reached back and removed it, wrapping it quickly in toilet tissue. “I’ll get another when I’m back. I just won’t tell Logan.”
The thought twisted uncomfortably. If Logan discovered this—after all his warnings and Ethan’s promises—he’d be furious. Careers at stake, trust broken.
He felt almost functional again, ready to face the briefing and focus on the mission. He cleaned himself up and flushed.
He swung the stall door open and froze…
Logan stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes cold with fury.
Ethan’s breath caught, his fingers tightening around the tissue wrapped toy, fresh panic surging through him. “Uh... did Brick tell you I’m better?” He attempted a casual laugh that sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Must’ve been something I ate, you know how it is.”
“Couldn’t do as I told you, could you?” Logan’s voice was dangerously quiet, barely containing his anger. He seemed to fill the space, and Ethan felt himself shrinking under that gaze.
“What?” he stammered, attempting a smile that faltered instantly. “No, everything’s fine. I’m good, I swear. I did what you said.”
“Gave you a hard-on, did it? Staring at me, lost in your fantasies?” Logan’s words cut like a blade, precise and devastating.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ethan frowned, stalling. “I told you?—”
He reached out, hand brushing Logan’s chest, but Logan jerked back, swatting it away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get your fucking hands off me. Where do you think you are?”
“Logan, please...” Ethan’s voice cracked with desperation, glancing around the empty bathroom. “I just… I wanted to be ready. I’m sorry.” His frown deepened, pleading.
Logan slammed his boot against the outer door, then grabbed Ethan’s vest, shoving him hard against the stall frame. Wood groaned under the force. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, face inches away, seething. “What did I tell you about crossing lines? Yesterday stays there—not here.” He slammed him again, harder. “Fuck, if this gets out, we’re done. Both our careers, over.”
He released his grip and stepped back. “I thought I made it clear—no looks, no games, no toys. For this exact reason.” His eyes drilled into Ethan’s, hard and wounded. “Get rid of that,” he gestured to the tissue. “Then clean up and go home. I’m so disappointed.”
The words felt like physical blows, “Wait,” Ethan’s throat constricted. “What do you mean go home? What about the mission? I thought we were spinning up.”
“No, you’re sitting this one out.” Logan’s tone was flat and final. “I can’t be around you right now. Not like this. I’d give us away.”
Hot tears threatened behind Ethan’s eyes, panic and shame colliding within him. “You can’t do this,” he breathed. “Logan, I’m sorry. I fucked up, I know, but it won’t happen again. I promise.” His voice broke on the last words.
Logan shook his head, unmoved. “Too late. I warned you, I won’t risk my career for someone I can’t trust.” He sighed, expression hardening. “Go home, Ethan. We’re spinning up. You’re not. You’re done here. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“But I don’t want to go home,” Ethan protested. “I’m fine, I can handle this. Logan, please—” A single tear trailed down his cheek despite his best efforts to hold it back. “You can’t do this, not after yesterday. You want me, I know you do.”
“Forget yesterday,” Logan snapped. “It doesn’t exist. You’re too weak, too needy, too impatient. That’s a dangerous combination.” His voice softened slightly, a flash of genuine hurt visible beneath the anger. “Remember, you did this. I told you to take that toy out before the mission. But no, you thought you knew better. I was trying to protect you.” He raked a hand through his hair. “What if Brick or Eddie figured it out? Then what?”
“How would they know?” Ethan mumbled, desperate. “They wouldn’t.”
“Eddie catches every damn thing, every detail, every slip. I can’t have him digging around. You’re no use to me now. Go home.”
Logan’s decision was final, and Ethan’s whole body sagged, the fight draining from him.
“You don’t know how much I wanted this—wanted you.” Logan opened the outer door, then looked back.
He walked out, the heavy outer door thudding behind him.
“Logan…” Ethan choked on a sob as tears welled hot and bitter. His chest was tight with an ache deeper than any physical pain and he sucked in a breath, trying to steady himself.
He turned and faced the mirror, his appearance was disheveled, eyes reddened and glassy. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, meeting his own gaze.
Another tear escaped, and he wiped it away with angry determination. He disposed of the tissue wrapped toy, his resolve hardening like armor around his wounded pride. He’d messed up badly, but he wasn’t giving up without a fight.
Straightening his vest, he forced himself to stand taller.
“I’ll fix this. I’ll make you want me again.”