I connect my lips to his; trying to convey every longing emotion I've ever had into it. He's not Logan, a fact that is prominent but ignorable. If I try hard enough, it won't matter.
My fingers tangle into his hair, his locks messy and dark. Not Logan. He opens his mouth to moan as I tug on his locks softly. My tongue meets his halfway. I trace the cavities of mouth, once again getting him to moan, ignoring the way it was too deep to be Logan, the feeling goes straight to my erection.
"James!" His eyes flutter shut as I reach out to grope his ass. His hands slide under my t-shirt and roam my chest. Soon the garment is across the room. I push him onto the bed, so I'm on top. I grind into him, trying to act like I'm into as much as he is.
His back arches, the denim rubbing against mine, creating friction for a second that makes me forget about ….uh….Logan. Yeah, Logan.
I break our kiss, before taking his shirt and almost ripping it off. Just to forget. I through it across the room, before turning back and sucking my way down his chest, trying to ignore the thoughts about how Logan would act if I did this – if he would squirm and try and take some control but let me overpower him. How his chest would be pale as snow and nipples a dusky pink.
I undo the other man's belt buckle, trying not to think about how I didn't know this dude's name.
I don't remember what he did after, I remember imagining Logan instead – I fucked Logan that night but left a strangers bed the next morning.