Page 38 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

We said goodnight to a smirking Tom and made our way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Logan’s was the shape of a half circle, with wooden walls, a balcony, and floor-to-ceiling windows that lined its outer edge. A massive bed drew my eye, its pristine white sheets bathed in the gentle haze of a reading light.

Logan closed the door behind us. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

I turned to face him with a smile. “Yeah, it’s a dump.”

“I’m a man of simple needs.” He smiled back and reached for me, fingers closing around my biceps. I didn’t resist when he walked me back, just let him guide me until I bumped against something solid—the roughness of a wooden wall. Deliciously trapped by the solid curve of his body, and I parted my legs so he could press a thigh between them, felt him hot against my hip.

Momentary impressions, snapshots of sensation—the brief, sweet prick of pain as he bit down on my bottom lip, his fingers digging into my arms, my own fisted in his shirt to drag him closer. Rustle of jungle sounds and the faint, earthy warmth of his cologne. How he let me control our kiss, opened for me, blood flowing through my veins like the ebb and swell of the sea.

“Bed?” he asked, almost a whisper, and I nodded blindly.

“Lead the way.”

We lost our clothes before we fell together, our bodies merging into one shadow on the wall. It was sweeter this time, the earlier urgency muted—grinding and twisting until Logan took us both in one hand and I came just like that, his mouth on my throat and his hand on my cock, sticky warmth between us. Logan’s teeth scraped over my shoulder as he followed just moments later.

It felt like resurfacing after a dive. There was a profound and layered silence in my mind, the everyday storm of thoughtstemporarily at peace. Intertwined, I could sense Logan’s heartbeat slowing along with my own.

He lifted his head, eyes velvet dark in the dim light. “You’re still staying, right?”

For some reason, my heart gave a drunken lurch—a boat caught by a sudden wave. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I told him. Sated and tired, I refused to worry about the truth in it.

Just temporary bliss.

9

Iwoke up disoriented.

Morning brightness drenched the backs of my lids in gentle orange. But my room didn’t get direct sunlight, and my bed was lumpy while this mattress was a fuckingcloud. I squinted my eyes open. A high ceiling arched above me, wooden beams crossing each other as a big-ass fan spun in lazy circles.

Oh. Logan’s room.

Logan, who was not where he’d been last night—right next to me.

His side of the bed was empty, sheets tangled and a dented pillow precariously close to the edge. Time? My momentary flash of panic subsided when the alarm clock on the nightstand showed a seven in front. Books were stacked up beside the clock, leadership guides mixed in with novels,Simply Managingin peaceful coexistence withKill Your Friends. Logan didn’t seem like the type for a morning-after case of cold feet. So. Bathroom?

Oh. I smelledcoffee. And bacon.

The murmur of voices suggested that Logan and Tom were downstairs. More importantly, they must have ordered breakfast. I threw off the sheets and scrambled for some clothes, grimacing at myboxers. Option A: recycle. Option B: embrace the breeze. Option C: go shopping in Logan’s drawers.

I was pretty sure he would laugh about me claiming a five-finger discount. Still, it felt a bit too intimate. Yeah, I’d had his dick in my mouth last night, his taste on my tongue, and his fingers in my hair. But wearing his underwear? That’s where I drew the line.

So I pulled on my shorts and stuffed yesterday’s boxers into a pocket, slung my T-shirt over my shoulder, dabbed some toothpaste on my tongue, and then trudged downstairs, the bitter-rich scent of coffee my North Star. Logan and Tom were out on the terrace, presiding over a huge spread with fruit salads, omelets, bacon, cake, croissants, and a jug of coffee bound to outclass the dishwater they served in the staff kitchen. The view of Logan’s broad back was its own kind of treat.

“G’morning,” I mumbled, shielding my eyes against the light.

Tom waved a pastry in the air. “Look alive, sunshine!”

“Hey.” Logan turned to look at me, then patted the space next to him on the lounge sofa with a sweet, quiet smile. Whatever worries I might have had about an awkward aftermath evaporated. “I was about to wake you. Coffee?”

“You’re my new favorite person.” I sank down beside him, close enough for our elbows to brush. “I’ll put you in my will.”

“Sweet.” His grin pressed twin craters into his cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to own a gently used wetsuit.”

“Better than a gently used condom,” Tom said.

“We all have to do our part for a sustainable future.” I let my fingers linger over Logan’s as he handed me a mug of coffee, returning his smile. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Help yourself to some food, yeah?” He nodded at the array on the side table. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so we ordered one of everything.”

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