Page 87 of Asystole

But looking at her now, all I see is that damn door closing behind Logan.

“Like what you see?” Kendra asks, the corners of her mouth turning up into a confident smirk.

I nod, knowing my lies will taste bitter on my tongue.

“I just need to grab a shower really quickly,” I tell her, trying to procrastinate as much as possible.

“Make it fast,” she says seductively. I’m looking around for my towel, coming up empty, when she adds, “Check the top of the dryer.”

“Right,” I say, exiting the room.

Logan did my laundry because he’s a saint.

Standing under the spray of hot water, I force myself to push everything aside. Focus on the here and now. Give Kendra the anniversary she deserves, especially since there hasn’t been any time for flowers or a gift.

I need to get my dick in this game because I know what Kendra is expecting as soon as I get out. I’m afraid I’m going to be asleep two-point-four seconds after being horizontal, but even more than that, I’m afraid I won’t be able to get it up, and I’ve fucked up enough where she’s concerned.

But after five minutes of thinking about that lingerie and the gorgeous girl wearing it, my dick is still as uninterested as ever.

I begin to panic, pulling desperately on my shaft, almost to the point of pain, trying to elicit a response, when out of nowhere, an image of Logan pulling me to him by the back of my neck on Dr. Porter’s front porch springs front and center in my mind.

Deciding that desperate times do, in fact, call for desperate measures, I let my mind pause on that moment. I continue to stroke myself, thinking about the way he touched me, the way his body felt under my hands, pausing only once to ask for permission, and devouring me once he had it, his tongue taking without apology.

I’m fully hard in less than a minute.

Deciding I’d better get a move on before I lose it, I shut the water off, do a terrible job drying my body, and rush back to my room.

Kendra eyes my erection immediately.

Climbing onto the bed, I pull her to me, wishing I had time to appreciate the outfit she has on and the look of pure lust in her eyes, but I don’t. If this is going to be successful, it needs to happen now.

But as soon as her lips connect with mine, it’s all wrong, and my dick immediately begins to deflate.

No, no, no!

I shove the fabric to the side, knowing that surely, if I can sink inside her, the feeling of that wet heat enveloping me will do the trick and revive my traitorous cock.

But the bastard checks out before I can even drive home.

You have got to be kidding me.

“Babe?” Kendra asks, the concern in her voice clearly evident. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit, Ken. I’m sorry. It’s all the stress. It won’t always be like this, I swear.”

“Let me see if I can help,” she says, sliding down to settle between my legs.

I already know this is going to end poorly.

“Maybe we should just go grab dinner. A glass of wine will help me relax; we can catch up, and then I’ll have enough margin to do this the right way,” I say, running a thumb over her lip.

I can see the disappointment in her eyes, but she nods with a small smile.

“Yeah, okay.”

Dinner doesn’t go any better, and I don’t even feel like drinking the wine.

The awkward silences feel like they stretch on for hours.