Page 18 of Three Hearts Hideaway

“Don’t you knock?” Logan asked disapprovingly, standing in front of the shower in nothing but his boxer briefs. His t-shirt and jeans lay in a pile at his feet.

“I’m so sorry!” She covered her eyes and spun around. “I didn’t think anyone was in here.”

“The door was shut, and the lights were on.”

She pivoted her head slightly and peeked through her fingers. “I didn’t hear anyone. I thought?—”

“Were you hoping to catch me in the shower, Ava?” He raised his eyebrows and jutted his chin.

Her mouth opened and closed again. She had no words.

“If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” His fingers slipped under the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down.

What was he doing? A flush climbed her neck. Yeah, this was happening. Her hands fell from her face, and she couldn’t help but stare. Logan was getting naked in front of her while Roman slept down the hall. The ego on this man.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she found her voice. “Does your superiority complex have no limits?”

“Why don’t you come over here and ask me?” Gaze trained on her, it didn’t falter for a second.

He was confident. She'd give him that. Though he had good reason to be. Despite not being as broad as Roman, his bodywas to die for. Lean and muscular. The kind of shape sculpted by manual labour. He was a smidge taller than Roman, too. His chest was clean shaven, but he kept a well-groomed treasure trail. And boy, did it lead to treasure.

Logan’s dick was on full display.

Long. Thick. Well-groomed. Standing at full attention. Her gaze was glued to it. Why else would he take off his underwear in front of her? He wanted her to see it. And see it, she did.

Cocky son of a bitch.

“I’m waiting, Ava.”

Steeling herself, she raised her head high and marched over to him, stopping mere inches away.

“Does. Your. Superiority. Complex. Have. No. Limits?”

Logan leaned in, his lips only a breath away from hers. “No.”

Her heart was beating so fast, she was sure he could hear it. He was so close. All she had to do was angle her head, and they’d be kissing.

“Do what you need to do, then leave,” he bit out.

The arrogance in his voice made her blood boil, but she couldn’t deny how he made her feel. The evidence was painted across her body. Heated cheeks, sweaty palms, and rapid breathing. She wouldn’t let him fluster her out of the washroom.

All she had to do was brush her teeth and wash her face, then get the hell out of here.

The squeak of the faucet drew her attention, and water pouring from the showerhead echoed in the room. Logan began lathering his body–completely visible behind the glass wall—with soap. She walked to her toiletries on Roman’s sink, trying to keep her eyes trained on the mirror and away from Logan’s gorgeous body. But not gawking at him was a herculean effort. She kept sneaking glances.

Brush, wash, get out.

Simple.

A hoarse groan cut the air. Her hands froze in the middle of splashing cold water on her face.

Another groan filled the room. Another.

Her gaze roamed to his form, and she took all of him in. Logan’s legs were spread in a wide stance, one hand above his head, leaning on the glass wall. His other hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking.

Up, down.

Up, down.

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