21. LOGAN
21
LOGAN
“What the fuck do you think you’re looking at?” Jaxon’s rough voice snaps me out of fucking lunacy and the moment I’d been having.
I blink. He’s all hard muscle and smooth skin. I blink again. There’s a tattoo across a portion of his abdomen. I can’t tell from here what he’s inked himself with, but I wouldn’t mind having a closer look. That is, if he wasn’t primed to bite my head off. And if I didn’t think he was such a jackass. And also if he weren’t using Rya to get to me. Fucking dick. I exhale harshly. I wish I hadn’t fucked up with her last night, though, because that really didn’t help. She came to talk to me, and I’d been a drunk idiot and sent her right back into his waiting arms. I rub a hand over my face in frustration. Fuck.
My eyes flick back to him. “What am I looking at? Not a fucking thing.” Except I am. There’s clearly a short circuit between my brain and my dick because it twitches at the sight of his naked body—hard—and I can’t seem to stop my perusal.
One thing is for sure: I’ve gotta be fucking crazy for continuing to stare, both because of the fucked-up, hateful nature of our relationship and the fact he’s my stepbrother, and that’s just… I dunno. Weird.
I dislike his tone and the look of derision he’s shooting my way. Time to show him he doesn’t fucking scare me in the slightest. I shuck off the rest of my clothes, then walk directly over to the shelves he’s planted himself beside. He could just fucking leave. Get outta my face. Hit the shower, you asshat.
As I grab a towel, our eyes connect, and I swear his dark, wary gaze is assessing me every bit as much as I had been him. My teeth grind, and the muscle in my jaw spasms. The longer we stare at each other, the surer I am I can’t be the one to look away first. So, I don’t. I let myself survey every square inch of his face, taking in the way his head angles back the slightest amount—probably so he can feel like he’s looking down on me, even though we’re within a half inch of each other’s heights. The flare of his nostrils highlights the piercings on either side of his nose, which look— I work my jaw to the side, studying them. They look really fucking good. Never thought I’d admit that, but at least it’s only to myself and not to him. His cheekbones are prominent, his jaw chiseled—more defined than most. And the rest of him? Fuuuck. Jesus Christ, don’t look again. My runaway thoughts are getting out of hand. I’m supposed to be pissed off, not turned-on.
Jaxon drags his gaze from mine, concentrating it on a point somewhere over my shoulder. “Not a fucking thing, huh?” He scrapes his teeth over his lip as he appraises me once more. “You sure about that?”
“Just about as sure as I am that you’re freaking out on the inside right now.” I shrug, glancing down on purpose this time. Right there before my eyes, his dick jumps. I peel my gaze from his semi-erect cock and can’t help the upward shift of my brows. A tumult of raging, crazed thoughts move through my mind at wickedly dangerous speeds.
What the fuck?
Trying not to show my outward surprise, since the odds of his eyes still being on me are high, I tip my chin up, putting on an act of nonchalance that I’m definitely not feeling, and turn my back on him as I stride to the showers.
I’m really, really fucking perplexed, my head ready to fly off my neck with how fast it’s spinning. There’s no one answering my question of what the fuck, so I don’t know what to think. Selecting the last stall, I drape my towel over the door—the universal sign that the space is occupied—and let myself in.
The deep breath I take isn’t even enough to still the chaos in my head. Jaxon has to be fucking with me. That’s the only answer I can come up with. It’d be just like him to attempt to toy with me while he fucks around with Rya at the same time. I wondered why he’d been standing there, waiting. I’d been on the verge of saying something, then… boom. I look over, and there he is. Naked. Probably all part of some grand fucking fuck-with-Logan plan. He is the biggest asshole I know. And the hell of it is… I hadn’t been able to pry my eyes from his body.
I twist the shower knob, letting the sharp blast of cold water hit me, a punishment for letting him get to me yet again—because he did. Masterfully so.
Hanging my head in shame while I wait for the water to heat—I swear, it takes forever in these old buildings—I let out a sigh. He’s playing me for sure. Ducking my head under the water, I get it wet, then use the communal shampoo from the dispenser on the wall to give my scalp and hair a quick scrub. The entire time I rinse my hair free of the suds, my ears strain to make sure he isn’t coming this way. Irritated with myself, I grind my teeth while I pump some of the generic body wash into my palm. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake. With swift, frustrated movements, I swipe the soap over my skin as I let my mind drift .
Fucking Jaxon. That goddamn photo of them in his bed. He takes advantage of every opportunity. I kiss her, and somehow she winds up with him. Sleeps with him. Literal sleep, I hope. My jaw tightens even though I don’t have evidence it was anything more than actual shut-eye happening in his room. I see the image of the two of them again in my mind’s eye. My asshole stepbro with his arms around Rya, a smirk on his face while she slept so fucking serenely on his chest.
Another shower starts up, and my dick hijacks my thoughts, diverting my focus to the sound of splashing water hitting tile. My mouth goes dry. Much to my dismay, mental imagery of soap bubbles and water sluicing over Jaxon’s body crowd in and take over all logical thought. Fuck me. Definitely wish I’d never looked. I hit the soap dispenser button a few more times, letting the suds form again as I run my palms over my skin and close my eyes. Almost as if they have minds of their own, my hands sweep down my torso, and after a difficult swallow, I allow one to brush over my rapidly hardening cock. My head drops back as blood rushes to my groin. With my breath coming faster and faster, my lungs can hardly keep up. Chest heaving, I let my slick fingers curl around my shaft and grunt as I make a tight fist. Bracing myself with one hand against the tile, I bow my head, letting the water spray over my back. I jerk myself in long leisurely strokes that have me biting back groan after groan.
I swear from the sound of it, Jaxon is in the next stall over. Go fucking figure. I exhale hard, working my hand faster and faster as a kaleidoscope of images slip through my mind. Jaxon and our heated arguments. Rya, the graceful dancing beauty. Jaxon, wrestling me to the ground. Rya, peeling off her top. Jaxon, pissed off and ignoring me at home. Rya, body writhing through an orgasm. Jaxon, just fucking now, flaunting his nudity, almost as if he knew I’d watch. Rya and the stunned look on her face after I kissed her.
A full-body shudder rolls through me, and I grunt aloud, the deep, throaty sound bouncing off the tiled walls and high ceiling. I’ve wanted Rya forever. But Jaxon? Fuck. I must be an idiot to let him infiltrate my thoughts like this. But I can’t find it in me to stop what I’m doing. Lust barrels through me. White-hot desire flares, and I shuttle my slick fist up and down my cock. The feel of it is so fucking good, but the warped pleasure I’m getting out of imagining Rya on her knees for me is even better. Her plump lips wrapped around my dick, a look of wide-eyed innocence as I go deep, hitting the back of her throat. Her eyes water, and she clutches at my thighs. It’s so fucking good I almost come right then and there, rocking in and out of her mouth .
A second later, the world inside my head distorts, and Jaxon takes her place. My lips part as sinful, dark eyes glare upward as he sucks the life out of me. The feel of his tongue flicking over my hard length is enough to wreck me. It’s a wonder I don’t crumble to the ground on the spot.
The shower door next to mine creaks as it opens, and I blink hard, then shake my head. Goddammit. Fuck Jaxon. I need to dig him out from under my skin. Claw him out of my head. Get rid of every lingering thought.
I jolt as a hand slaps the door of my stall and it opens. With my heart drilling a hole in my chest from all the wild thumping, I turn my head toward the intrusion. The showerhead sends rivulets down my face, and I blink the cascading water from my eyes as I stare at Jaxon. My gaze tracks all the way down his chest to the thick appendage hanging between his legs. There’s no way I’m revealing my surprise or allowing him an advantage. Giving myself a slow tug, I allow my lips to curve ever so slightly. “Do you mind? I’m fucking busy here.”
He crosses his arms, like we’re simply having a chat. “Don’t mind at all. You heard Coach. I’m your new shadow.” He pauses to wink. “So, you’ve hidden this… part of yourself, which I find interesting because you know my dad pretty well. And I’m certain if he were to find out, all this support he’s been giving you? Gone. ”
“His loss,” I grunt as his unwavering stare makes my blood heat to boiling under my skin. His old man definitely has some flaws, his thinly veiled homophobia being one of them. But I’ve simply never felt I owed anyone a goddamn explanation of my sexuality. Eric Ledger’s opinion is only important to me because I know it’d kill my mother if we didn’t get along.
Jaxon’s been busy studying the fuck out of my reaction to his taunt, never mind that I still have my hand on my dick. He doesn’t seem to give a shit and juts his chin toward me. “I am curious, though. Rya kept this quiet, too. But if she knows you like dick… why was she so fucking upset last night? What did you fucking do?” His lips twist, a thoughtful expression sliding over his face.
“Shut the fuck up.” I release my erection, whirling on him and jabbing a finger into his face as we come chest to chest. “Mind your own goddamn business, Jaxon!”
Despite the fact we’re both wet and naked, he stands his ground, lips twitching. “I hate to sound like a sixth grader, but fucking make me,” he hisses.
A deep V forms between my brows a fraction of a second before I bring my hands between us to shove him away from me. But he anticipates it, hooking my elbows and yanking down. The force of it does loosen my hold on him, but I’m just as fast, clamping a hand on the back of his neck and gripping his bicep. In response, he grasps my wrist in an attempt to shrug away. We’re stuck in an intense battle of both brute strength and wills. Fury flows back and forth in a wicked dance of energy between us. I dig in, an enraged growl slipping from me as my jaw clenches. He bites down on his lip, equally as unwilling to give in or give up.
Just then, laughter spills into the locker room, and the typical assholery that passes for team camaraderie commences. Jaxon takes a half second to glance down the hall but doesn’t budge an inch, which I wasn’t anticipating. “Motherfucker. Back the fuck off.” I let loose a string of even more colorful words under my breath.
But he doesn’t listen. In fact, he doubles down, taking advantage of my surprise at the interruption. Lunging against me, the full weight of him slams into my body, carrying us to the back wall of the stall as the door swings shut behind us.
My head smacks against the tile, and all the air in my lungs exits. Stunned, I stare into his eyes. “Get the fuck off me,” I hiss.
The fact that Jaxon’s muscular body is hard against mine is causing a genuine problem. Truth be told, I don’t think my erection ever went down, and I don’t know if anyone is near enough to hear the wrestling match going on in here, because my blood pumps viciously, obscuring coherent thought as our standoff goes on .
“Someone is going to hear us. Is that what you want? Because I don’t fucking care what anyone thinks about me. I’ve never hidden the fact that I like men.” As I grit out those words, his dark eyes bore into mine, his jaw clenched. What the fuck is going on in his head?
I make the mistake of blinking, and maybe I’m still dazed from my skull connecting with the tile, but I soon find myself facing the wall while Jaxon braces his forearm across my shoulders. With his full weight leaning into me, I’m pinned, unable to move. I slap the wall, and because I have no real desire for anyone to open the stall and see what’s happening, I grunt and continue to wrestle, all the while wondering what he hopes to accomplish by holding me here. Is he waiting on everyone to leave now? I’ve taken a mental accounting of at least seven other showers starting.
Behind me, Jaxon’s hold relaxes a fraction as he groans, and something warm hits my ass cheek. I’m able to break free, and I wrench myself around, just in time for a second spurt of cum to hit me in the lower abdomen. Then another hits my dick, and a final one lands, dribbling down my thigh.
Half in shock, I gape at him, too stunned for speech.
He huffs out a laugh, then leans in close to my ear. “Oops. Sorry about that. But you don’t mind, right? Actually, that was kinda fun. And I bet it’ll be some trick for you to explain this to Rya—how you came onto me.” His brow arches as I suck in a breath. “What? Are you trying to steal me from her?” He nods as if to himself. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll tell her about this.” Chest heaving, he lightly slaps my cheek, his lips quirking up on one side into a sly smirk. “Oh, and you should make sure you don’t need some stitches, too. That cut looks pretty nasty.”
I look down to see the bandage that had been holding my skin together has come loose, and the split in my knuckle has reopened. Fuck. Who knows whether that happened during our scuffle or earlier while I was pitching.
Jaxon turns on his heel and walks out of the stall without a backward glance.
My eyes crash shut, unsure what to think. The throbbing in my hand is agonizing now that the toxic high of my ill-timed jerk-off session is over, but that’s the least of my worries. Is Jaxon fucking crazy enough to tell Rya what transpired between us?
And my best friend— My heart wrenches in agony. It’s doubtful she’ll want to hear a word out of me after the way I behaved. I want to talk things out, but fear and worry battle within me. Knowing Rya, she might not want a damn thing to do with me until she’s had space to deal with it. In the past, I’ve encouraged her not to hold people’s stupidity against them, because she’s not usually inclined to give people who act like idiots the benefit of the doubt or a second chance. But how am I supposed to make her listen when this time the asshole she’s dealing with is me ?
I’m still trying to figure it out when the last of the other showers shut off, and I’m left in confused solitude.