Page 49

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d finally admit that you think about me when you jack off.”

He laughs, head falling back briefly before he looks at me again. Fire ignites in his eyes. “I think about you constantly. Can't even go a week without remembering the way you sound when you come.”

I squeeze my thighs together, breath hitching at those words. “Show me. Come on. I won’t touch myself unless you do.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” I rotate the camera slightly, giving him a tease of my hips and thighs, of my fingers skimming the hem of my sleep shorts. “I need you so fucking much.”

“Christ,” he groans, leaning back to give me the perfect view of his hard cock in those gray sweatpants. I don't even recognize the whimper that leaves my throat. “You’re gonna kill me, Salem.”

This time, I don't hold back, moaning loudly as I crest over the edge at the memory of our mutual jerk-off sessions. The reminder of how hot it felt to have him watch me touch myself. I'm so close, just on the brink of relief, my stomach clenching⁠—

Knock, knock, knock. “Salem, are you coming out soon?”

The sound of Logan’s voice startles me, effectively killing my lady boner.

“Go away!” I squeak, putting my hands behind my back like I just got caught with them in the cookie jar.

There's a brief pause outside of the bathroom. “I brought you dinner, but it's getting cold. You've been in there for forty minutes.”

Scoffing angrily, I rewet my hair before squeezing conditioner onto my scalp. “I can shower for as long as I damn well please. Leave me alone.”

His heavy sigh reaches my ears over the running water. “It's Pad Thai with extra veggies.”

My stomach growls almost painfully at the sound of those words. Fuck, he knows my weakness.

After quickly rinsing off, I step out of the shower and run a towel over my body before wrapping it around my hair. Once it's secure, I throw on Tay's hoodie from earlier and fling open the door to the scent of oyster sauce wafting through the air.

Logan glances up from the glass of wine he's pouring, doing a double take as his gaze rakes down my bare legs. Something in his expression darkens and he returns his attention to the glass, hair falling over his brow to hide those honey eyes.

Shifting uncomfortably—mostly because my poor clit is feeling neglected—I zero in on the takeout containers spread over his bed. “You bought us food?”

With a shrug, he sets the wine on the nightstand without looking at me. “I needed something that didn't come out of a package. According to their website, this place makes their own rice noodles from scratch. The vegetables are fresh, too.”

“Thank fucking God.” I dive onto the bed, snatching up a container and shoveling food in my mouth before he can get another word out. It tastes so good, so chemical-free, that I groan around my fork as I chow down.

Logan lets out a choking noise, and I freeze when I glance up to find him watching me with an odd expression. It's then that I realize how ridiculous I must look—hair in a towel, no pants, a noodle stuck to my chin. Completely unsexy.

“Sorry,” I mumble, swallowing a large bite as I wipe my mouth self-consciously. Shit, when the hell have I ever cared about what Logan thinks of me? Or any man, for that matter?

He just tosses me a tight smile before picking up his own container. “By all means, eat. Just don't judge me if I stuff my face.”

The food turns leaden in my gut. Glancing into my lap, I set my noodles aside. “I shouldn't have said those things to you yesterday.”

“Salem, it's fine, just…” He blows out a breath and offers me a glass of wine. “Eat, okay? We don't have to talk about it.”

I accept the drink, sipping slowly while I watch him take a small bite. “I disagree. Taylor told me I was out of line. I'm sorry.”

There, I said it. Fuck you, Tay.

Logan's brows twitch, but he keeps his gaze down. “Well, as long as Taylor says so. He's all-knowing, right?”

I rear back at the harsh tone of his voice. “Dude, I'm trying to apologize here, but… never mind.”

Scooting off the bed, I start toward the bathroom, but Logan stops me by yanking on my sleeve.

“Wait, Salem, please.” He shakes his head. “I'm sorry, too. This meal was supposed to be my own apology, just… Take off his hoodie. Please.”