Just a Bit Wrecked (Straight Guys #11) - Alessandra Hazard Page 0,15

night—except he didn’t like Andrew enough to feel true sympathy for him. Mostly Andrew just annoyed him—and turned him on, which only annoyed him more. But fuck, he was lovely. His hair had grown out of his short haircut and now was a mess of light brown curls, and his plump lips were practically asking to be kissed or have a hard cock stretching them. And those ridiculous eyelashes—

“You done ogling me?” Andrew said.

“No,” Logan said, letting his gaze travel down Andrew’s body, his arousal spiking at seeing all that smooth, golden skin. His gaze lingered on Andrew’s nipples, brown and pretty. He’d never thought nipples could be pretty, but somehow, Andrew’s were.

Logan shifted his gaze to the ceiling, annoyed both with Andrew and himself.

Enough. He wasn’t a goddamn teenager. He could keep it in his pants.

***

It set the pattern for the rest of the day.

Andrew kept sulking and making snide remarks about being molested the previous night—and how Logan was never allowed to put his dirty paws on him again—but he stuck close to Logan all the same. Granted, their proximity was enforced by the rain, but Andrew really didn’t have to sit quite as close to him while they ate their meager meal. It put Logan in a shitty mood, his nerves raw and his body on edge.

As night fell, they stretched out on their pathetic “beds.”

Logan stared at the ceiling of the shelter, listening to the rhythm of the falling rain. The sound was depressing. Lonely. It made him long for another person’s warmth. For another person’s touch—for something. He felt like crawling out of his own skin and doing something. Something ill-advised.

He knew Andrew wasn’t asleep.

There was tension in the air, so thick he could almost taste it.

Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He rolled onto his side and pressed his chest against Andrew’s back.

Andrew let out a sigh that seemed both relieved and annoyed. “Fuck off.”

Logan wrapped an arm around Andrew’s waist and pressed them flush against each other, his erection nestling between Andrew’s cheeks. “Stop making it complicated,” he said, nipping at Andrew’s nape. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“But—”

“Shut up and jerk off. You know you want to.”

After a long moment, he heard the telltale sound of flesh moving against flesh.

Burying his face against Andrew’s nape, Logan closed his eyes and sought his own release.

It really meant nothing. Just two touch-starved, lonely humans seeking relief and comfort. Nothing more.

But fuck, touching Andrew was oddly addictive. Logan hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having a warm, naked body in his arms. An orgasm was kind of secondary to the pleasure derived from physical contact.

He had intended to just grind against Andrew’s ass while the other guy jerked off, but he felt greedy now. He wanted more. His hands started wandering, stroking Andrew’s chest and stomach, kneading his pecs and brushing his nipples.

“Stop that,” Andrew murmured weakly, but he didn’t attempt to pull away and didn’t stop stroking his own cock.

Logan ignored him, his face buried in Andrew’s nape as his hand rubbed and tweaked those pretty nipples. Fuck, he wished he could suck on them.

He pinched the left nipple and Andrew whined, shuddering against him. Logan slid his hand lower, over Andrew’s trembling stomach, and then lower, until his hand bumped against Andrew’s.

The guy tensed up.

After a long beat, Andrew’s hand dropped.

Logan wrapped his hand around the stiff cock.

Andrew let out a shaky breath. “I’m not gay,” he said, haltingly.

Logan just scoffed. Andrew’s cock was a nice size, a little shorter and slimmer than his own, and it was already leaking pre-come as Logan started stroking it.

“I’m not gay,” Andrew said again, but his words came out more like a moan.

“I’m not hearing a no,” Logan said, jacking him off.

“As if a no would stop you.”

“You won’t find out unless you try it,” Logan said dryly, but he didn’t press. He knew Andrew felt better about this if he could pretend that he was being forced. Logan should have probably been more bothered by it, but he wasn’t. Had he cared for Andrew or—God forbid—actually wanted a relationship with him, this would have been offensive as fuck. But as things stood, Andrew continuing being a bigoted little shit practically guaranteed that Logan wouldn’t get attached. This meant nothing. Just a base need that didn’t mean anything.

So he stroked Andrew’s cock, deriving a sick sort of pleasure from every moan that bigoted straight guy let out as a “homo” jacked him off.

Andrew clearly was trying to