Page 37 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Yep.” He grinned, a blue-tinged flash of teeth. “Unlike some others on this terrace.”

“Classy isn’t defined by the Victorian Dating Society’s rulebook,” Logan said.

I shot him a grin. “So you’ll still respect me in the morning?”

“Babe.” Logan’s voice was lifted straight out of a cheesy eighties movie. “Stay the night, and I’ll order us breakfast in bed.”

I snorted. “Because it won’t be awkward at all if Des walks in on us.”

“I’m sure he’s seen worse,” Logan said.

“Nothing that involved me.”

“That’s the price of Logan’s company,” Tom said. “He’s got a knack for ending up in tight spots—literally and figuratively.”

“One,” Logan said, “reports of my scoundrel nature have been greatly exaggerated. And two, I’m an equal opportunity connoisseur of tight spots.”

Images.With his hand still curved around my knee, I wondered if he felt the way my thigh muscles jumped. While I did prefer to catch, loved the stretch, got off on getting filled up—Jesus, something aboutthe idea of working myself into Logan’s gorgeous ass had my mouth go dry.

I aimed for an off-handed tone and missed by a mile. “Duly noted.”

Logan’s smile turned small and private, his eyes dark as they met mine. “Let me know if you want details. I’m happy to share.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Tom heaved a loaded sigh. “Get a room.”

“Already did,” Logan said. “It’s right next to yours.”

Tom’s face twisted in theatrical disgust. “You’d think the trauma of a dorm room just one door down from you would have taught me a thing or two. Like the value of thick walls.”

Right, what with Logan’s party boy ways. How many guys had he hooked up with? Dozens, hundreds? I could count mine on the fingers of one hand.

Sowhat? I had nothing to prove.

“He exaggerates,” Logan told me, all wide-eyed innocence as though it mattered what I thought. It didn’t—I knew what this was.

“Sure.” I patted Logan’s shoulder, tiredness crowding back in around the edges of my vision. “Thing is, though, if we don’t get to it soon, I’ll fall asleep on you.”

Logan grinned. “Flattering.”

“Baby, I wasbornto be wild.” I raised a brow. “Until about nine p.m.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?” Logan sounded genuinely curious.

“I guess you’ll find out,” I said.

“And on that note…” Logan rose from the lounge sofa and offered me a hand. “Wanna see my etchings?”

Tom snorted. “Any sex noises, I’m banging on the wall.”

Three years ago, I would have blushed. Good thing that living with Nia had trained me to treat sex talk with the casual ease of a late-night host.

“Don’t worry,” I told Tom as I let Logan pull me to my feet. “This is the encore. It’s never as loud as the first time.”

“That a challenge?” Logan asked, dark and silky, only to ruin itwith a yawn. Based on his routine of early runs, he probably wasn’t a creature of the night either.

I squeezed his hand with a grin. “You can blow my mind tomorrow, Casanova.”

“It’s a date.”

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