Page 54 of Unspoken

"You need to stop it, Sasha," he hisses out.

"Come on, Logan. It's not like dipping your toes in will bring the end of the world," I taunt as I watch him stand there, a statue sculpted from duty and stubbornness.

"End of the world, no. End of my job? Possibly," he retorts, but there's something in his voice I haven't heard before—a hint of amusement or maybe irritation.

"Just admit it, you’re scared of water," I prod further, feeling a stupid grin spreading across my face. Getting Logan into the pool has become my personal goal.

"Scared of nothing," he says flatly, but the crease between his brows tells me otherwise. "I've got responsibilities."

"Responsibilities can wait for a minute or two," I argue, relishing the way water whispers freedom along my skin while I glide.

"Not when someone has put a hit on you."

"Ah, right. That…"

I swim up to him and splash some water on his immaculately ironed slacks.

Logan’s expression turns to disbelief. "Really? Is that what you’ve got?"

"Get in," I coax. "Nobody's home anyway."

He drops into a crouch and our faces are close now, so close I can feel his breath on my wet cheeks. My cock stirs in my trunks and I have this urge to grab it to make it stop. But I can’t do it in front of Logan, can I?

Fuck.

"Listen to me, you little shit," he whispers. "If we have unexpected visitors, I’m the only person standing between you and death and you don’t want me disarmed and unprepared."

"You underestimate yourself," I whisper back. "I think you were born prepared."

"Not the point," he deflects.

Again.

That unbreakable wanker.

"Are you getting in or not?"

"I already told you."

"I can tell Vlad you kissed me. You’ll get fired. Then we can hang out as…friends." Frankly,friendsisn’t the word I’m looking for, but I’m too restless because of Logan’s proximity to be thinking straight.

Logan's expression hardens, and his jaw clenches so tight I reckon it could crush diamonds. "That was you. You kissed me first, Sasha. And if you even think of lying to Vlad—"

"Then what, Logan? You'll kill me?" I laugh, the sound sharper than I intended. "Or would jumping into this pool right now save you the trouble of waiting in the long line of everyone trying to end me?"

His silence is like a blade hanging over us, and I can almost hear his thoughts churning behind those stormy gray eyes. "So are you getting in, or am I calling my brother?"

The hesitation that follows is palpable. Logan knows the stakes, knows the danger. But then, with a resigned sigh that seems to carry the weight of his entire world, he rises to his feet and begins to peel off his clothes.

My breath catches as he removes his T-shirt, revealing the ink on his torso, on his pectoral and his abdomen. The muscles ripple beneath his skin like some ancient, powerful current as he wrestles out of his slacks. He's all hard lines and brute strength in his upper body and grace in his legs.

Something stirs in me, something primal and hungry, as I watch. If I had any doubts about being gay up to this point, they are all gone now. Wiped by this shameless display of masculinity.

"Happy now?" Logan's voice cuts through my daze as he steps into the pool, the water rising to embrace him as it has me.

"Ecstatic," I reply, but beneath the levity, my heart is racing, pounding out a rhythm that speaks of risk and desire intertwined beyond unraveling. His presence feels like an unspoken confession, and the night suddenly seems darker, charged with an energy that could either consume us or set us free.

And I’m not certain which one it’ll be.

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