Alessandra Hazard

And Logan loved him.

He loved him.

“What?” Andrew said, smiling. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

And Logan loved him.

He loved him.

“What?” Andrew said, smiling. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“Boyfriend, huh?” he said, breaking the kiss and leaning their foreheads together. “Thanks for letting me know.”

It also made him want to shove his cock into that pouty mouth, just to shut him up.

Andrew didn’t know how long he’d lain like that, his face buried in the pillow and his mind drifting on the edge of sleep when the phone by the bed went off.

Reaching out, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Why are you in my hotel?”

“Christ, are you jerking off?”

Andrew froze. “No,” he said around his thumb.

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“You’re doing something. I know how you sound when you—” Logan cut himself off, muttering something frustrated under his breath. “Tell me.”

It rubbed Logan the wrong way, made him want to put himself between Andrew and this woman and growl.

But the moment Logan shut the front door behind him, he was yanked to the side, shoved against the wall, and suddenly had Andrew trying to tuck himself under his chin, breathing oddly. Hyperventilating.

It took Logan a moment to recover from his surprise.

So Andrew did the responsible, adult thing: he stalked Logan.

“You’re drunk,” he said, clearing his throat.

“But I love you,” Andrew murmured, sucking a hickey on Logan’s neck. “So much. I feel like I’m choking on it sometimes. Got drunk to tell you. Am not brave enough sober.”

Feeling a rush of overwhelming affection, Logan tipped Andrew’s face up with his fingers. “You don’t need to get drunk for that, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely, looking into Andrew’s glassy eyes. “I love you, too.”

Andrew’s eyes widened, a flush appearing on his cheeks.

“Tell me that again in the morning?” he asked, in a small voice. “In case I forget.”

Logan smiled at him gently. “I will,” he said. “I will tell you that every day if you want.”