“Logan, please. Oh my god, don’t stop.”
He moves back up my body, positioning himself between my thighs, cock hard on my entrance. I’m aching.
'Look at me,' he directs. When my eyes lock with his, he pushes inside in one slow, deep thrust that stretches me perfectly, both of us gasping at the sensation of finally, finally being joined again. He stays still for a moment, forehead pressed to mine, our breath mingling.
"I love you, Reese. All of me loves all of you."
"Mine," I whisper, nails digging into his shoulders. It's possessive and raw and honest. "You're mine, Logan McCoy."
"Yours," he agrees, beginning to move with slow, deep strokes that gradually increase in intensity. "Always."
We move together slowly, staring into each other’s eyes. So intense, so connected.
I build and build and build. When I come, it's overwhelming. My thighs shake, my core clenching rhythmically around his cock which pushes Logan over the top and he comes too.
He collapses on me and we lie tangled together in the dim light of his bedroom, my head on his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath my ear. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back as our breathing slows and steadies. The silence is easy. Nothing else needs to be said.
"Tired?" he asks, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"Exhausted," I admit. "But good exhausted."
His arms tighten around me, secure and protective. "Sleep," he murmurs. "I've got you."
As I drift toward sleep, I listen to his steady breathing, and feel the solid warmth of his body. The world outside this room is waiting—the Cup Finals, co-parenting negotiations, all the complications of our intertwined lives. But for now, in this moment, we're whole again. Just us, facing whatever comes next together.
Chapter 30
Logan
Iwake to the rhythmic bouncing of the mattress and a small knee digging into my thigh. Tyler's giggling above me. The bedroom is filled with soft light filtering through the blinds, and when I turn my head, I catch Reese leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching us with a smile.
"Daddy! Wake up! It's pancake day!" Tyler bounces again, nearly landing on my stomach.
I groan dramatically and grab him mid-bounce, pulling him down beside me. "What time is it, T-Rex?" I mumble into his hair.
"Seven thirty-two," Reese says from the doorway. "I couldn't hold him off any more."
"Daddy, you promised pancakes," Tyler reminds us both, wriggling out of my grasp to resume his bouncing. "With chocolate chips AND blueberries."
"Did I?" I sit up, rubbing my eyes. "That doesn't sound like me. I'm more of a cereal guy."
Tyler's face crumples into an exaggerated pout. "You promised!"
"Well, I guess I better make good on my promise then."
After breakfast and a full day of play, I tuck Tyler into his bed—the guest room now transformed with dinosaur posters and a nightlight projecting stars across the ceiling.
"Daddy?" Tyler asks as I pull the covers up to his chin. "Are you scared about your game?"
The question catches me off guard. I sit on the edge of his bed, considering how to answer. "A little bit," I admit finally. "It's a big game. Important."
His eyes widen slightly at my honesty. "But you're the captain. And you're the strongest."
"Everyone gets scared sometimes, buddy." I smooth his hair back from his forehead. "Even captains. Even the strongest guys."
"I get scared of the dark sometimes," he confesses. "And monsters."
"I know. That's why we have the star light." I gesture to the nightlight.
