Logan & Sab Ch. 3/8

Logan Brags About Girls Until Sab’s Tearful Confession Sparks a Late-Night Cuddle

A few hours later — I’m not sure exactly how many, but it’s been a while because the sun’s gone and the room is dark — Sab is still lying on my chest. I shifted to the side and flicked on the lamp on the left side of the dark-brown wooden nightstand, letting the soft glow fill the room.

Maybe that wasn’t the smartest move. What if the light woke Sab from his beauty sleep? I watched him stir, groaning and rubbing at his eyes. Damn it. Good job, Logan. Real smooth.

That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part? Well… I had a boner. Not unusual for me — wake up like this sometimes after a nap or in the morning — but right now? Really bad timing. And with his leg resting on top of my groin, it sure wasn’t helping.

He opened his eyes and caught mine.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” I said, half-sarcastic.

“What time is it?” His voice was groggy, still draped in sleep.

“Don’t rightly know,” I muttered, trying to act casual, like my body wasn’t betraying me.

“What the…” He glanced down, then slowly lifted his leg off me. Great. Not only did he notice, he reacted. Surprised, but not… upset.

“Ha, sorry,” I muttered, feeling the blood rush to my face.

He turned his head to the wall. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he said, all casual. Good. At least I didn’t make him uncomfortable.

And then it hit me. How much did I value him as a friend? Was he the kind of friend I’d set my own desires aside for? Could I make him happy, even just this once?

I figured I could.

Just once… what if I let him have his fun? Let him feel the joy, the thrill, the pleasure?

I’ve had my share of girls — approaching them, flirting, asking them out. The worst they ever said was no. I’ve got female friends, too, had some fun here and there, but… none of them are Sebastian.

Worst-case scenario? He says, “I don’t think we should be friends anymore, because you see me as so pathetic you’d sleep with me out of pity.” Something like that.

So… I’m not asking him straight out. Not like that. At least, I’ll try not to.

“Hey… got an idea,” I said slowly, my mind racing over whether this was smart or damn foolish.

He turned to me. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Well… uh… you know how, uh…” Words failing me, and my cheeks burning like fire.

“Know what?” he asked, waiting.

“Well… I’m… kind of hard… right now,” I admitted, cringing, wishing the earth would swallow me whole.

“Uh… okay?” He looked confused, clueless as to where I was going. Why can’t he just take a hint? Read my mind?

“Well, I’ve got a problem, and that problem… is that I’m hard.” My voice wavered.

“And… you mean what I think you mean?” he asked, quiet now.

“Yes. I do.” Confidence sparking in me — he got it without me spelling it all out. Let’s do this.

“Dude… no matter how hard you are, you’re not going to agree to sleep with a guy. It’s fine. You don’t have to do this just because I’m desperate.”

“But I want to!” I blurted, maybe too eager, maybe too convincing.

“Wha… I-mean… if you really want to… I guess…” For God’s sake, it sounded like I was more into this than he was.

“Of course, we don’t have to if you don’t want — ” I tried to backpedal.

“Dude, you serious? We’re in this position, cuddling and talking about it, because I want to get laid,” he said, slow, that sweet accent of his.

“Alright then… well… haha,” I laughed nervously.

“So… how do I… do you want me to just… touch it?”

“…Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Do what you want. It’s fine.”

“Whatever?” His eyes sparkled, excitement rising.

“Yes.”

He moved his hand, rubbing me, sending jolts of pleasure through every inch of me. Nervous, scared, feeling like I was losing my virginity all over again. But I let him take the lead.

He shifted off me, and I felt a chill where his head left my chest, but soon it was replaced by something much hotter. I watched him go down, and before I knew it, his face was right there, in front of my hardening bulge again.