Page 1 of Asystole

Chapter 1

Logan

Come on, Logan, I think to myself. Get it the fuck together. This guy is hot and willing, and your dick is going to fall off purely out of spite if you don’t stick it in someone soon!

I squeeze my eyes closed, desperate to shut out my own mental lashing and just enjoy Jack’s mouth on me as he sucks my cock enthusiastically.

But after five agonizingly long minutes, I’ve still got nothing.

Not a single sign of life.

My dick has flatlined and needs the paddles.

Gently pushing Jack back by the shoulders, I scrub a hand down my face.

“Look, man, I’m really sorry. It’s definitely me, not you. Your cock-sucking skills are exquisite. I’m just broken.”

Jack looks up at me from his knees, his long eyelashes caressing his cheeks when he blinks.

“There’s no pressure here. Whatever’s on your mind, just go with it. Give in to it,” he says with a shrug, clearly not bothered by my lack of a response to all his hard work.

I snort.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Jack gets a devious twinkle in his eye and says, “What could it hurt? Just pretend I’m him.”

My eyes widen at the way he so easily identifies my struggle, causing Jack to laugh.

“Oh, please,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand. “We met on a hookup app, not a dating website or something geared toward people looking for long-term relationships. That haunted look in your eyes—not to mention your petulant dick—tells me you’re having trouble moving on, and since I want to get railed to within an inch of my life, let’s help each other out.” I stare as he continues talking. “Close your eyes, picture his face, call me by his name, and fuck me.”

With a clenched jaw, I nod once, knowing it’s twisted, but Jack seems on board, and honestly, what have I got to lose?

Not Stone. He was never mine in the first place.

“Is this guy’s voice lower or higher than mine?” Jack asks, causing me to crack one eye open.

Just how far are we taking this role-play? I silently wonder.

“A little lower,” I hear myself respond.

Instantly, Jack’s moans become deeper, but they’re still all wrong. Not his technique. His technique is great, and I actually hate myself for not being able to get hard right now, but even though I can picture Stone’s face, I know that’s not who’s in front of me.

I’m not who he wants, and I never will be.

It’s been four years since I fled Ricochet Ridge and the man who embedded himself under my skin. Pathetically, the knowledge that he chose his stepbrother over me continues to fuck with my head. I may have moved away, but I certainly haven’t moved on.

I scoot back on the couch in Jack’s living room, effectively pulling my cock from his mouth…again.

He purses his lips at me and sighs.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” he says as he slaps his slacks-clad thighs and stands. I never even took his shirt off.

“Again, I’m really sorry,” I say, meaning every single word.

“I know,” Jack says before offering some unsolicited advice. “But you’re going to keep disappointing yourself and your dates until you figure your shit out. So do us all a favor and don’t swipe right until you get over this guy.”

Jack’s not being an asshole. He’s just being honest. And I like him all the more for it.