Just a Bit Wrecked (Straight Guys #11) - Alessandra Hazard Page 0,14

might have been bigger and stronger, but Andrew had more leverage in this position. And fuck, it was a matter of pride now. If he wasn’t going to get sleep, neither would the asshole.

They wrestled, grunting, Logan swearing filthily under him. “Get off me, you monkey—”

Andrew broke into giggles as he held on, which quickly turned into hysterical laughter. It wasn’t all that funny, to be honest, but his emotions were all over the place, and he had no idea what to do with them. He was freaking out of his mind; he had no idea what he was doing or what was happening to his life, he hated this man, couldn’t stand him, but he also needed him with a ferocity that terrified him. He didn’t know what was going on anymore—who he was, what he was, why this was happening—

“Have you lost your mind?” Logan growled. “Stop that—stop laughing!”

He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He laughed, and laughed, until the noises leaving his throat became ugly and broken, his body shuddering and his eyes burning with tears.

Logan went rigid under him. “For fuck’s sake,” he said tersely. “If you start crying on me, I’ll kick you outside.”

Andrew tightened his grip on his sides. “I’m not crying,” he said, his voice thicker than he would have liked.

Logan heaved a long-suffering sigh. He seemed irritated, but he wasn’t attempting to shove him off anymore.

“Quit crying and sleep,” he said at last.

Something inside Andrew loosened a little. He closed his eyes and breathed out.

The rain kept beating against the shelter’s roof, but all Andrew could hear was the steady, strong beating of the heart under his ear.

He didn’t even notice falling asleep.

Chapter 8

Logan had never been a particularly religious person. But he thought if God existed, the rain would stop by the morning and he’d able to escape the shelter.

If God existed, he clearly didn’t give a damn about him.

He woke up the next morning to the monotonous drumming of the rain.

Logan sighed and looked at the guy sprawled on his chest. The gaps in the shelter let in just enough daylight to see.

He stared at Andrew’s deceptively sweet face, at his parted lips that kept brushing against Logan’s chest every time he breathed, his long, dark eyelashes, and that smooth, golden skin.

Logan looked away and shoved the guy off him.

The confused cursing would have been amusing if Logan wasn’t in such a shitty mood.

This had been a terrible idea. What had he been thinking?

“Dick,” Andrew grumbled sleepily.

Logan got to his feet and went outside naked. He pissed, brushed his teeth, and then washed himself in the lukewarm rain, glowering at the gray sky.

He was tempted to just stay outside, the rain be damned, but no matter how warm it was, staying wet all day was a bad idea. They couldn’t afford getting sick. They didn’t have any medicine. They were also running low on toothpaste and salt, and their blankets were becoming unsalvageable even without getting jizz all over them.

Logan ran a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging.

All right. What was done was done. There was no use crying over spilled milk. Last night had been a mistake, but he wouldn’t repeat it. He’d just been frustrated. On edge. As long as he kept his dick out of that repressed little shit, it would be all right. One ill-advised sort-of-fuck didn’t have to change anything.

Feeling a little better, Logan returned to the shelter.

Andrew was stretched out on his belly, sleeping peacefully on Logan’s bedding. He was still naked.

Logan’s jaw clenched, his newfound calm evaporating in a flash. He tore his eyes away from that bubble butt and kicked Andrew on the shin. “Get off my bed.”

Andrew just mumbled something sleepily and ignored him.

Logan’s eyes returned to that smooth, plump ass. He was only a man.

Tearing his gaze away again, Logan leaned down and growled into Andrew’s ear, “Get. Off. My. Bed. Or I’ll take it as an invitation to fuck you.”

Andrew stiffened before sitting up so fast their heads nearly knocked.

He glared at Logan sleepily, raking a hand through his hair. “Fuck off,” he said, his cheeks pink. “It’s bad enough that you molested me last night. If you think I’ll let you do—do…” His blush deepened, and he scowled, unable to meet Logan’s eyes.

Snorting, Logan stretched out on his bedding. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Andrew just sat there, looking embarrassed and lost. Logan almost felt sorry for him—the guy clearly was freaking out about what had happened last