Page 61 of All Roads Lead to You

“Yes.”

Nick’s tongue forced its way into my mouth, and I sucked on it for a second before exploring him with my own tongue.

He pulled away, kissing my scruffy jaw and throat before finding my lips again. I paid attention to every little thing he was doing to me, filing it away into my memories to learn more and never forget.

After kissing for who knew how long, we pulled away, panting. His lips were slightly swollen and glistening with saliva.

“Are we doing this, Logan?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Nick. Please.”

“Hmm, too bad, but if you wish.”

“What?” I blinked several times before what he said clicked, and my face flamed. “That’s not—”

He smothered my words with a kiss to shut me up.

“I know what you meant. I’m not out to hurt you, Logan.”

“Okay.”

His eyes shot up toward the roof of the tent, grinning. “Do you hear that?”

I shook my head.

“The storm’s moving on.”

“We should probably move on, too. The Ozarks are calling us.”

Nick and I did our best to dry everything off. Fortunately, most of our crap was inside the tent. Once we had everything packed up, we headed out for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to the Ozarks, past Little Rock, Arkansas.

After we buckled up in the car, I lit a smoke. “Ready?”

Nick held out his hand, and I clasped it. “I’m ready.”

I couldn’t help but think he meant more than the drive to Arkansas.

Chapter 19

Nick

After having a quick bite of fast food, Logan and I needed to stop by the laundromat to wash our clothes. We hadn’t washed anything since we started this journey, and with the rain and mud, we had no choice.

It was the middle of the workday, and no one was in there, so Logan and I just shrugged, stripped our clothes off to our underwear, and tossed them in the wash, along with our sleeping bags. I dropped several quarters into the coin slot and pressed start.

As our shit got washed, Logan sat on the built-in wooden folding table, his long legs dangling as he read through his travel journal. He’d glued some of the images I took of our trip onto the pages and wrote a little bit about it.

What had he said about me on this trip with him? Did he start out writing about how angry he was with me tagging along, then eventually mentioning our kisses? Shit, now I was curious, but I’d been intrusive enough with him.

He set his pencil down and read what he wrote before I plucked the notebook out of his hands, closed it, put it on the table, and slid between his legs. The curly hair there tickled my bare skin. I was so used to smooth, soft, and hairless bodies, but I strangely liked how taut Logan was. I had no idea why his masculinity was a turn-on. Or perhaps it was just Logan himself. In all my years being surrounded by dudes, not once did I ever look at them and wonder what it would be like to kiss, touch, or date one.

My hands traveled to the nape of his neck and fisted his hair, pulling his head toward me so I could steal a kiss.

Logan’s eyes slid toward the large windows to make sure no one was looking and allowed me to lead him to my mouth.

He was getting really good at this kissing thing, and I liked it more and more. I enjoyed his scruffy face against mine, chafing my skin as if he were marking me and making me his. And I had to admit I fucking loved being his first guy kiss, letting him give me his first handy, and allowing me to give him one.

Fuck, this morning had been intense between the hand jobs, Logan legit wigging out, and then that beautiful moment when he finally let all his walls crumble to dust.

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