Logan (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel)

by Lane Hart

  So despite all of the reasons why I won’t make a move, it is nice to know there’s some sort of mutual attraction between us, at least physically. If Logan knew what a hot mess I was on the inside, I’m sure he would be running the other way.

  Since Logan doesn’t make a move toward the shore, I lead the way because it is incredibly hot today and I want to cool down my overheating body and hormones. Just as my toes touch the incoming wave, Logan asks, “Aren’t you worried about sharks or bacteria?” Instead of answering him, I look over my shoulder with a grin and continue to wade in deeper until the water is up to my knees. “I’m pretty sure I’ve read that Mexico’s water is toxic to Americans if we drink it…”

  He pauses mid-sentence when I lift my leg through the water and splash him across his chest.

  “Stop worrying and loosen up for a little while,” I tell him as I keep going until I’m waist deep in the water. Logan still hasn’t put more than his toes in. “You’re not gonna make me go out here by myself, are you?” I ask him.

  Blowing out his breath, Logan says, “If I die of a flesh-eating bacteria or anything else, I’m going to blame it all on you when I’m on my deathbed.”

  “You’re not going to die,” I tell him as he comes in and the waves break at his knees. “Now, it’s very possible we may get a little stomach bug…”

  Logan freezes, and his jaw drops.

  “Kidding, sort of,” I tease. “The water feels amazing, so it’ll be worth it.”

  “Why can’t we go to the pool?” he asks. “At least they put chemicals in it to keep it clean.”

  “How do you know? It could be even more disgusting with kids peeing in it and all…”

  “Yuck. Ok, fine,” he grumbles as he dives down into the water, getting wet from his shoulders down.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” I ask as I get lifted with the next wave. “Relax a little and enjoy your vacation,” I tell him before I go into a back float.

  “Easier said than done,” Logan argues.

  …

  Logan

  Relax, she says.

  Has she ever seen herself in a mirror? She had to have taken a glimpse after she put on that damn bikini that I’m now regretting purchasing. Not because every heterosexual man in the vicinity started checking her out as soon as we walked out on the beach, but because seeing all of her skin and knowing that I can’t touch her is making me fucking crazy. Not to mention that the sexy siren convinced me to get in ocean water, something I hadn’t done since I was a kid, before I was old enough to worry about being eaten alive by a shark or getting a disease that kills me painfully within days.

  How could I possibly let Brayden wander out here all alone, though?

  If I sat back in the lounge chair while she swam, she wouldn’t be alone for very long before men flocked to her. And I like having all of her attention to myself, even if she is out of my league and untouchable.

  Before, she was wading through the waves like a goddamn Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, and now she’s floating in the waves in front of me, with her breasts about to bob free from the tiny bikini triangles. Those big, soft swells are dripping wet and shiny in the sun, just begging for a tongue to come along and lick them dry.

  I may be concerned with diseases in the water, but I would risk catching them all if I could put my mouth on Brayden’s tits just once.

  Underneath the water’s surface, thankfully hidden from view from onlookers, my dick is pitching a tent in my boardshorts that’s big enough for a whale to hide under. I’m so damn hard it hurts, without any real relief in sight. I probably have a better chance of a fish biting off my dick than having Brayden touch it.

  And I do want her to touch me, even if I shouldn’t want that.

  “Don’t look so grumpy,” Brayden says when she looks over at me from her floating position, dark sunglasses covering her eyes. “Aren’t you enjoying this even a little?”

  Fuck, yes.

  “Not really,” I mutter since I hate having this stupid, immature inner struggle going on between my head and my cock. I’ve never let the phallic body part control me or let it lead me astray even once, and I’m proud of that fact. There were all sorts of temptation in college, but I focused on studying, being the top of the class, rather than wasting my nights with random women.

  “Fine,” Brayden says as she gets into a sitting position, causing the water to drip from her hair down her chest and over her breasts like the most awesome waterfall ever created. “We can go back to the shore.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I reply in a rush since my swollen erection is way too noticeable to be viewed by any sunbathers. I need a few minutes to try and figure out what to do about it. “Lie back down and do your thing,” I tell Brayden.

  “Are you sure?” she asks with an eyebrow arched over her shades.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she eventually agrees before she lies back down and lets the waves caress her backside.

  What the hell am I going to do about my hard-on? I try to think about legal briefs, habeas corpus, reciting the Miranda rights to myself, but nothing makes the damn thing go down.

  I wonder if I could ease my hand into the front of my elastic waisted shorts and pull my cock out to give it a quick tug without anyone, especially Brayden, who is the closest to me, noticing.

  I’m pretty sure that her eyes are closed behind her glasses, so I go for it. With my back to the beach and facing Brayden’s incredible body, I slip my hand down the front and fist my cock…Oh god, that’s what I need. The relief in just grabbing hold of my aching shaft nearly makes me moan out loud before I bite down on my lip.

  Closing my eyes, I free my dick from the confines of my shorts and start stroking it from root to tip. Fuck. I’m already so close. How is that even possible? I keep jerking it right to the edge; but for whatever reason, I can’t get over the hump.

  Opening my eyes and seeing Brayden laid out on the waves before me makes my shaft swell, and it’s exactly what it takes for me find my release. My cock jerks, and then I’m milking every last drop out of it, never wanting to stop because it’s the most incredible release I’ve ever had. I’m even panting before I get to the very end.

  “There you go,” Brayden says, making my hand pause a second because I think she’s figured out my secret. “So you do know how to relax,” she says, and with one last stroke, the final shudders of my orgasm subside.

  “Feel better?” Brayden asks as I quickly tuck my cock back in my shorts.

  “Yeah, I do actually,” I reply with a sated smile before I let myself fall back into the water and float alongside Brayden.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brayden

  So now I know how to get Logan to loosen up.

  He apparently holds all of his stress…in his dick.

  While I’m not entirely certain, I’m pretty sure he jerked off in the ocean.

  Which is ironic, since he was so concerned about the germs that could be in the water. But I am perfectly fine with what he did, because I got to watch him. And no, I couldn’t see what was going on underneath the water, but I could see his face — and that was definitely the slack, sated face of a man getting off. God, it was hot. I just wish I could’ve been the one to give him the relief that he obviously needed so badly that he couldn’t wait and take care of himself in private.

  And knowing that he was looking at me as he pleasured himself makes it even hotter.

  Seeing him touching himself has me wanting to do the same for some much-needed relief, but there’s no way I’m brave enough to put my hand down my bikini bottoms in public.

  Now, Logan and I are drying off in the sun, laid back in lounge chairs that we pulled out from underneath the umbrella so we can work on our tans. Logan’s head is thrown back against the headrest, making me think he’s sleeping behind his sunglasses, and I have a margarita with a tiny, colorful umbrella in my hand, sipping it as I enjoy the scenery. The beach is pretty nice too, but
Logan is even more fun to look at as sweat drips down the center crease of his six-pack abs, heading toward the top of his waistband. I’d follow it with my tongue, right down to his cock if I could.

  Jeez, I need to get my head out of the gutter.

  Pushing aside my overeager hormones, I try to do what I suggested to Logan and simply relax, letting all of the stress and horrible memories of the jail evaporate into the blue, cloudless sky.

  Once the front of my body dries off from the sun’s rays, I lower the top part of the chair, so that’s it’s flat and lay on my stomach to get some sun on my back with my head resting comfortably on one of the resort’s towels.

  I’m pretty sure I doze off for a little nap, because I wake up feeling warm and stiff all over. Glancing over, I see that Logan is still in the same position and that his skin, which is much fairer than mine, is looking a little red.

  I get up and put my chair in the upright position before taking a seat and calling his name.

  He doesn’t budge.

  “Logan?” I say again a little louder. His entire body jerks, and his head finally lifts and turns to look at me.

  “Have a good nap?” I ask him with a grin.

  “How long was I out?” he asks, lifting his sunglasses to rub his eyes.

  “No idea. I dozed off for a little while too,” I tell him. “It may be time for you to put on a little more sunscreen, though. I could probably use some too.”

  “Shit,” he mutters as he lays his head back. “I forgot the sunscreen.”

  “You forgot to bring it out here, or you forgot to put it on?” I ask since I don’t see any sitting around his chair.

  “I didn’t put any on.”

  “Oh, wow, Logan. You’re gonna get burnt up. We should probably head in for the day,” I say as I get to my feet.

  “Guess you’re right,” he agrees as he slowly stands in front of me and then stretches his arms over his head, making my fingers twitch with the urge to touch his hard chest and chiseled abs.

  “Let’s go before you get any more sun,” I tell him as I pick up his phone, wallet, and shirt, then grab his hand to pull him along since he still seems to be half asleep.

  “You didn’t get much rest last night, did you?” I ask Logan on the way back to the villa.

  “Not really, no,” Logan answers with a yawn. He doesn’t pull his hand away from mine either. Instead, he grips it tighter. “Sorry that we had to shorten your day at the beach.”

  “It’s fine,” I assure him. “I just hope you didn’t get too much sun. Nothing hurts as much as a bad sunburn.”

  “Yeah,” he agrees. “Thanks for waking me up.”

  “I hope I woke you up in time,” I say, because I’m gonna feel awful if Logan’s redness gets any worse.

  …

  Logan

  I’m a little groggy on the walk back to our villa. And even once we’re there, and Brayden has to pull the keycard from my wallet and unlock the door to let us inside, I’m still feeling a little off balance. The lack of sleep last night must be getting to me. The short nap was nice, but it wasn’t enough.

  “I think I’m gonna take a shower to try and get awake,” I tell Brayden. “Do you need the bathroom first?”

  “Nah, I’ll just change out here,” she says, which makes me bite back a groan, but my dick is too sated to even perk up at the thought of her walking around the room naked.

  Climbing the stairs, I head to the bathroom and start the water running while I undress.

  As soon as I step under the spray, I know there’s a problem. Fuck, it stings. Reaching around, I turn the dial to cooler water, and it still burns the front of my body when the water hits me.

  Looking down, I see my skin is only getting redder by the second.

  Fucking great.

  I can barely stand for the towel to touch the inflamed areas, so I have to pat myself dry gently. Since there’s no way in hell I’m gonna put on a shirt and have it scrape against the burn, I wrap the towel around my hips, the only area the sun didn’t touch, and walk into the bedroom to put on the pair of slacks I wore earlier today. The material doesn’t feel great on the front of my legs, but I’ll make do.

  What kind of dumbass buys sunscreen and doesn’t use it?

  When I get to the bottom of the steps, Brayden looks over at me from her seat on the sofa and then bursts into laughter, making me feel even better.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says as she puts her palm over her mouth. “You’ve been so nice to me. I really shouldn’t laugh. It’s not funny, at all. You must be in so much pain. But those raccoon eyes are the best I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thanks,” I grumble, not upset with her but at myself for being an idiot.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she says over and over again as she gets up and motions for me to come take her seat on the sofa. “Sit down, and I’ll call the concierge to see if they can bring us some aloe vera.”

  That’s probably a good idea since I can’t go out looking like half a lobster, and Brayden only has my shirt and swimsuits to wear shopping.

  “We could use some bottles of water too,” I add as I lower myself onto the furniture stiffly, then keep my arms out to the sides because they hurt too much to bend.

  “Water and aloe, got it,” Brayden says before she picks up the phone and puts in the request, adding in ibuprofen, which I appreciate.

  “Guess we’ll have to stay in tonight,” I tell her when she takes a seat in the chair next to the sofa.

  “That’s fine,” she agrees. “We can find some movies to watch and order room service again. It’ll be fun.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I grumble.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brayden

  As soon as the hotel delivers the aloe, pills, and water, I tell Logan to stand up so I can give him some relief. It’s not the preferred method, but it’s what he needs right now.

  “I can do it,” he says as I squirt a handful of the green gel into my hands.

  “You could, but I’m guessing it hurts to move even the slightest bit, right?” I ask him.

  “True,” he agrees with a sigh.

  “Then let me help,” I tell him. Finally, he caves and gives me a nod. Deciding to start from the top and work my way down, I smear the first dab of gel onto his forehead. Logan flinches and lets out a hiss. “Hurt?” I ask.

  “The aloe is cold but feels good. The problem is my skin is a little tender,” he explains.

  “I’ll try to be careful,” I say as I go back to rubbing in the gel using just the lightest touch of my fingertips over his forehead, down his blood-red nose and over to his cheeks. “This okay?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” he says.

  “I feel so bad,” I tell him as I squirt more gel into my palm and move on to his chin. “I should’ve woken you sooner, but you looked so peaceful.”

  “Don’t blame yourself for my mistake,” he says with our faces just a mere inch apart.

  “Well, it is sort of my fault,” I say as I coat his ears. “You put your whole life on hold and flew all the way down here to help me. And I’m the one who wanted to stay a few more days and dragged you out to the beach.”

  “It wasn’t like you had to twist my arm,” Logan tells me. “I like being here with you.”

  My heart skips one of its beats, which I’m pretty sure will throw it completely off its rhythm from now on.

  “I like being here with you too,” I tell Logan as I start working on soothing the burn on his chest. Wasn’t it just hours ago I wished I could touch him? And now that I am, he feels just as good under my fingers as I expected. It would be even better if he weren’t hurting.

  “And it’s not like I left much of a life back home on hold,” Logan says while I continue to rub him down. “All I do is go to work, get in some exercise, and then sleep.”

  “Oh,” I say as I ease my fingers over one of his nipples, making it bead. “So, you’re not dating anyone?” I ask.

  “Not lately. Haven’
t been on a date since I started this job about six months ago.”

  “Wow, that’s a long time,” I tell him while rubbing aloe into each of his abs.

  “Tell me about it,” Logan mutters, then inhales sharply as his muscles tighten under my fingertips. “A little ticklish there,” he says.

  “Oh, sorry,” I tell him softly as I rub aloe lower, along the redness that borders his waistband. “How about your legs? Are they…”

  “Could easily be mistaken for lobster legs,” he supplies, making me smile even though it sucks for him.

  “After I get your arms, I’ll get on my knees and do them,” I tell Logan, then wince at the phrasing. “I mean, I’ll roll up your, um, pant legs and rub lotion on them.”

  “Thanks,” he says as I rub in aloe a little longer than necessary on his biceps before moving to each of his forearms and hands.

  Once his upper torso is completely sticky and slimy with the gel, I kneel in front of Logan and start rolling up his pant legs one at a time as far as they will go, which is right above his knees. Reaching for the bottle of aloe, my face flames as red as Logan’s body at the position I’m in, my face so close to his crotch that it would be incredibly inappropriate if I didn’t have a good reason for it.

  Logan’s legs are just as strong and muscular as the rest of him, but hairy, unlike his smooth upper body, so it makes getting the gel in good a little bit tougher. Finally, I finish covering him, having used up a quarter of the bottle.

  “There, I think you’re done,” I look up from my knees and tell him.

  “I appreciate it,” he says.

  “We probably need to put a coat of aloe on you every few hours,” I suggest, not just because I like touching him all over, but because it’ll help soothe the burn.

  “Yeah, guess we’ll see how long the relief lasts,” he agrees.