A peppy Kelly Clarkson Christmas song played on the radio, and for once, Seth didn’t turn the channel. Instead, he upped the volume with the button on the steering wheel, pressing with his thumb.
His mind wandered to Logan—and masturbating in the shower. A thrill shot through him at the memory of the stretch of his lips around Logan’s shaft, and then bringing himself off this morning.
“It’s okay,” he said aloud, interrupting Kelly. “I had casual sex, and this morning I…jerked off, and it’s all okay. I’m allowed. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
The plows and salters had been out, and the drive into work was smooth. Especially since Seth spent it grinning to himself, thinking about seeing Logan again that night. Wondering if they’d get off again.
“Casual sex is awesome.” He repeated his new mantra, tapping the wheel as another pop holiday song came on.
He was still grinning when he pushed open the glass door to the office. Becky gasped excitedly when she saw him, practically bouncing in her chair behind reception, her red hair swirling in waves.
She exclaimed, “Seth Marston, you sly devil! It’s always the quiet ones.”
Seth’s grin froze as he jolted to a stop. Matt had said he’d contain the rumors at work, but it was Tuesday, and apparently the containment could only last so long. “Uh…”
She crooked her finger and beckoned him closer to her desk. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone.”
Seth resisted the urge to snort in derision. “Thanks.” If everyone didn’t already know about his fake engagement, they would soon.
Becky whispered, “Strong work bagging Jenna’s hot bro. I didn’t even know he was gay!”
He’s not, despite the fact that I sucked his cock last night and then he gave me a hand job. Just thinking the words sent a secret little shiver through him. “Uh, yeah, we just hit it off. Anyway, I should get to it. Have a great day!” He rushed away before Becky could launch into a real cross-examination.
Seth was normally in before Jenna, but he skidded to a stop as he rounded the corner of their pod. She sat at her desk, blotting at her pants above her knee with his Tide pen.
She glanced up, clearly exasperated. “Honestly, how does this baby manage to get spit up on my leg?”
“It’s a talent.” Seth laughed, and it came out too high. Looking at Jenna, strange guilt boiled up in him.
I had your brother in my mouth last night.
Her brows drew together. “Everything okay?”
“Uh-huh! Why wouldn’t it be?” He yanked out his desk chair, the wheels knocking into his foot. He could still feel Jenna’s curious gaze on him.
“Is Logan behaving himself?”
A strangled laugh brayed out as visions of Logan spread-legged—hard and leaking—danced through Seth’s mind. “Uh-huh.”
Jenna groaned. “God, don’t tell me he’s leaving his sweaty gym socks out or farting.”
This time, Seth’s laugh was genuine, and he looked over at Jenna, who was wincing. He lowered his voice. “I assure you he’s being a model guest. No dirty socks or passing gas.”
She laughed and whispered back, “Okay, good. To be fair, I haven’t lived with him since he was a teenage boy, and you know how gross they can be. Not that you were.”
“Of course not.” He lifted his chin haughtily. “I’ve never even broken a sweat.”
“You know, you’re so neat and orderly I can almost believe that.”
Matt’s shaggy head appeared atop the partition. “What are we whispering about?” His eyebrows rose. “Caper?”
“Yes!” Jenna hissed. “Keep your voice down.”
Matt leaned closer and murmured, “Don’t worry. This is all under control.”
“Easy for you to say!” Seth rolled his eyes. “But it should be fine. New furniture’s coming today. We still have time to get everything in place.”
Matt asked, “How’s the boy toy?”
Heat washed through Seth like a tidal wave, and he jerked his eyes to the computer screen, the words jumbled and meaningless. “He’s not my boy toy.”
Matt huffed. “You’d better fake this better for Angela. I’m just saying. What are you going to make her for dinner?”
Dread joined the hot swirl of guilt and embarrassment. “I have no idea.” Seth shook his head, his voice raising. “I have no idea!”
“Shh!” Jenna and Matt hissed in unison.
Matt winked. “I’ll get Becky on the case and find out what Angela’s favorite foods are. Don’t worry, man. You got this.” He pumped his fist and mouthed, “Caper!” before disappearing behind the partition.
Sighing, Seth hoped Matt’s confidence wasn’t grossly misplaced.
As he pulled into the driveway, a fresh layer of snow crunching under the tires, Seth was momentarily puzzled by the warm glow of lights from inside the house and the silhouette of a man on the walkway leading to the front door.
His heart skipped as he blinked at Logan, who paused in his shoveling to give a wave. The garage door stood open, and Seth eased in and killed the engine.
The moon had emerged from behind clouds, and at the end of the driveway, Seth could see that the distant mailbox was crammed full, flyers poking out the end, the flap unable to close now. He should just empty it. He knew what was likely inside, and not looking wouldn’t change a thing.
Yet he turned onto the walkway, breathing through the tightening in his gut and focusing on Logan—which sent a spiral of jittery excitement through him.
We had sex yesterday. Is it going to happen again today? Does he want me the way I want him?
Out loud, Seth said, “You don’t have to shovel. Leave it for me.”
Breath pluming in the cold air, Logan said, “Happy to do it.”
Seth stopped a few feet away on the walkway. He cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Happy?”
Logan chuckled. “Believe it or not, I am. I like working. Feeling useful.” In the yellow glow through the front window, his cheeks were ruddy.
“It’s not too much exertion?” It had honestly been frightening when Logan had been unable to catch his breath that day in the garage.
This was clearly the wrong thing to say, since Logan scowled and muttered, “Nope.”
“Okay. You should wear a hat. You’ll catch a cold.” Great, act like his mother. That’s really sexy. But should he be attempting to be sexy? They were only friends. Barely that—still mostly strangers.
Although the little quirk of Logan’s crooked smile was already becoming familiar, and Seth wanted to see it again and again. Wanted to see everything. Wanted to learn all the shapes and sounds of Logan.
Logan’s laugh was throaty, and the sound sent lust spiking through Seth. Logan pulled his black woolen hat from his pocket and tugged it over his ears. “You’re the boss.”
Seth laughed, although unease prickled his skin. “Let me get the other shovel and help.” He didn’t want Logan to feel like they weren’t equals.
“I just have the steps to finish.” Logan squinted at the driveway. “Didn’t think there was enough fresh to warrant shoveling all of that as well. But I can if you want.”
“No, no. Like you said, there’s not enough. The SUV gets through it no problem, and if there’s too much, a guy comes to plow the drive.”
Logan nodded, then bent to push a shovelful of light snow off the walk. “I’ll be done in a minute. Why don’t you check out the backsplash?”
“Oh! I almost forgot. Thank you.” Seth climbed the few steps and stamped his boots before going inside. On the indoor mat, he tugged off his boots, carefully stepping onto the hardwood in his socks and trying to avoid the wet spots.
After hanging up his coat, he padded through the still-empty sitting room and into the kitchen, gasping softly. The pale blue subway tiles gleamed, brightening the space immeasurably and making the white cabinets really pop. It all looked so clean and crisp and inviting, and Seth was suddenly eager to cook. And not just prepackaged stir fries an
d bacon and eggs. This was a kitchen he wanted to spend time in.
Grinning, he admired it, running his hands over the shiny gray quartz counters. The rhythmic scrape of the shovel on the walkway outside was strangely soothing. Seth had been rattling around the half-finished house all alone for more than a year, and having Logan there helping and doing things for him made Seth feel…
It was silly, but it made him feel cared for. Comforted and peaceful, even though it was only part of their deal. It wasn’t real. It was only temporary. Soon enough he’d be shoveling his own walkway and he’d be alone again.
His smile faded, his pleasure over the finished kitchen diminishing. Yes, he’d still make better use of it and cook for himself in the new year, but a hollow void cracked through the swell of comfort that had filled him.
“Enough of that,” he muttered to himself. Logan was with him now, and he’d make the best of it.
Before long, he had chicken breasts cooked and pasta boiling, and he was grating an old hunk of Parmesan after cutting off the questionable bits. The sauce would have to be jarred, but it was a decent organic brand. He smiled to himself as he listened to Logan come inside the house and take off his winter gear.
“Something smells good,” Logan said as he rounded the corner.
“The boiling water?” Seth joked.
“Yep, that must be it.”
“The kitchen’s so gorgeous I had to start cooking immediately, even though I’m not much of a chef. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
Logan shrugged, but his smile was definitely pleased. “Glad you like it.” He rubbed a hand over his cold-red face, the scruff rasping. The sound went straight to Seth’s groin. Logan wore a sweatshirt over his jeans, and he pulled it over his head, his T-shirt riding up and exposing his belly and the dark hair that pointed down to what was under his waistband.
“Do you drink wine?” Seth asked Logan too loudly. “I have a nice Pinot. Well, I think it’s nice. Hopefully.”
“Sure. I’m not fussy.”
Seth busied himself grabbing the bottle from the pantry. “I should get a proper wine rack. Instead of keeping the wine beside the Bran Flakes.”
Logan filled the pantry door with his broad shoulders. “Should be easy enough to do. Where do you want it? I’ll get the dimensions and ask Pop what he thinks. He was here today supervising.” He stepped closer, peering around Seth at the corner of the pantry. “If he tells me what to do, I could probably build one pretty easily.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!”
Logan shrugged. “I want to.”
They stood a foot apart, and Seth suddenly could barely breathe. When he did, he inhaled the faint fresh scent of Irish Spring soap. Then he was imagining Logan naked and wet in the shower, lathering himself, sudsy and slippery…
“Seth?”
The timer for the pasta beeped in the kitchen, and Seth plastered on a smile as Logan backed out of the pantry to let him by. Seth hurried to place the colander in the sink and dump the pasta into it.
He asked Logan, “Do you want to open the wine? I think the glasses are in that box in the corner. Still need to get all the cabinets sorted.”
“Sure. And yeah, I figured you’d want to organize it yourself. I’m not the best at that shit. Not like Jenna. And you seem like you enjoy things…neat.”
“That’s a generous way to put it.” Seth shook his head and stirred the bubbling sauce. “Hard to believe I’ve lived with this half-empty disarray for so long.”
Soon they were in front of the TV, watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and laughing. The pasta was hearty and tasty enough, and the red wine went down too easily for a weeknight. Seth clucked his tongue as he splashed a drop of sauce on his gray shirt.
“You don’t usually change into sweats or whatever when you get home?” Logan asked from his end of the couch, the middle cushion between them.
“Oh, I usually do, yeah.” He dabbed at the spot.
“Well, you don’t have to do anything different because I’m here. It’s your house.”
“Right.” He laughed softly. “I suppose I’m not used to having anyone here, so I’m in ‘guest mode’ or something.”
“Well, make yourself at home,” Logan joked.
After dinner, Seth did go upstairs and change into a tee and sweatpants, as well as thick, fuzzy socks since his feet were perpetually cold in winter. He also spritzed himself with a woodsy cologne he hadn’t worn in ages and fussed with his short hair as if he were going on a date. In his own living room. With an almost-stranger he’d had his mouth on the day before.
Situation normal.
They watched a new Netflix show on home renovations that seemed well-timed, and Seth turned on the fireplace. It was cozy and weirdly comfortable to hang with Logan in near silence aside from the odd comments from both of them on paint and sofa choices.
Logan had changed into his sweatpants too and didn’t wear a shirt. Which was perhaps slightly distracting, if Seth was being honest.
Around ten, Seth paused a new episode and said, “I guess I should get to bed.”
“Right. How’d you sleep last night?”
“Uh, good! Good.” The mention of last night had Seth on red alert, memories sparking fresh lust. He tried to watch Logan from the corner of his eye. Was Logan simply asking an innocent question? Sitting there shirtless and sprawled and sexier than he had any right to be?
Logan held a glass of water, and he toyed with it, his hand moving up and down, gathering condensation. “Yeah, I find getting off helps. With sleep.”
“Uh-huh!” Seth all but squeaked.
“But if you want to go straight to bed—”
“No, I’m good. I mean, I can… We can… If you want…”
The rumble of Logan’s laughter was warm. “C’mere.”
Seth forced himself to move slowly instead of launching at Logan like an attacking predator. Their knees knocked as he settled himself, and before he could formulate a sentence, Logan was cupping him through the cotton with a strong hand, and Seth was almost instantly hard.
He lifted his hips so Logan could tug him free, and he concentrated on breathing and staring at the paused TV, their reflection moving over the image of a rundown bungalow.
The urge to turn his head and shove his tongue down Logan’s throat positively burned, but he kept his lips pressed together tightly, his nostrils flaring as pleasure built.
“Doesn’t have to be a big deal,” Logan murmured, his voice gone gravelly. He rubbed at himself—at his cock—through his sweatpants as he stroked Seth, pausing to spit on his palm a few times.
That’s probably how he does it in bathroom stalls, with just spit.
For some reason it excited Seth, the rough drag of Logan’s callused hand and the dirtiness of using spit. The rawness of it. It was illicit somehow. Seth leaned into him, Logan’s left arm flexing between them as he stroked Seth.
“Not awkward? Using your left hand?” Seth asked. The strokes were so measured and sure, so skillful.
“I’m left-handed.”
“Oh!” Seth’s breath caught, turning the sound into a long moan. “Ohhh.” It felt so good, and Seth was going to come soon, and he wanted Logan to feel as good as he did.
Taking a shaky breath, he spit into his right hand, licking it a few times before reaching toward the bulge in Logan’s sweats. “Should I…?”
“Fuck yeah.”
So there they sat, hands down each other’s pants, knees and elbows bumping as they brought each other off. Their harsh inhalations and exhalations filled the air, heads leaning closer together as their movements became more frantic.
Seth wanted to devour Logan, inhale him and feel that rough stubble on his lips and face, taste tomato and garlic on his tongue and kiss through their orgasms.
But he didn’t cross those last several inches. Logan didn’t want that. He’d set his boundaries, and even though Seth had Logan’s throbbing cock in his hand, the spo
ngy, flushed steel in his grasp so alive and powerful, that was as far as he could touch.
Still, as Seth came, spurting over Logan’s knobby knuckles, he imagined that kiss, closing his eyes and letting himself go, his head thrown back and spine arching.
Logan wasn’t far behind, and his groan as Seth milked him was delicious. Pulling his sticky hand free, Seth wiped it on a stray napkin. They breathed hard, and Seth mumbled, “Thanks. That was…”
“Yeah.”
“I… Thanks.” Before he could stop himself, Seth nuzzled at Logan’s cheek. Not kissing him, but almost…
Logan inhaled sharply, shuddering. Then he cleared his throat and sat up straight, breaking contact. “All part of the deal, right?”
It was like a splash of cold water, and Seth tucked himself into his sweatpants, nodding. “Right. Yes. Okay, good night!” He balled up the napkin in his fist and made a hasty retreat.
All part of the deal. Nothing more.
He repeated the words to himself like a mantra as he went to bed and stared at the ceiling far too long.
Chapter Eleven
“Shoot!” Seth tightened his arm around the cardboard box full of wine bottles, feeling it slip as he turned the key in the lock.
His front door sprang open, and he almost sprawled flat on his face. He would have if not for Logan’s strong hands on his arms. Logan took the box, easing it onto the floor by the mat. “Close one. You almost cussed.”
Seth laughed as he closed the door, the warmth of the house beckoning. Not to mention Logan. A pang of longing filled him—the urge to pull Logan into a hug, to kiss him hello the way he would a lover. A partner. He had to remind himself that this was all pretend.
Well, aside from the orgasms.
Those were very, very real. The night before, Seth and Logan had eaten Thai delivery in the great room while watching TV. After some time for digestion, Seth had blown Logan, on his knees between Logan’s legs, glad of the thick throw rug.
Logan hadn’t offered to do the same yet, and Seth hadn’t asked. He was getting off powerfully just with the touch of Logan’s rough hand, the hot puff of his breath on Seth’s cheek, the press of their thighs and shoulders when they sat close. In those moments, Seth could almost forget that it was only a bargain between them.
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