Текст книги "Take (Temptation Series)"

Автор книги: Ella Frank

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

27.

They only just made it inside the door to his condo when Logan found himself turned to face the wall. He barely had a chance to brace himself before Tate was crushed up against his back.

Tate rubbed his erection against his ass, and Logan grunted as he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the cool wall.

“I had this fantasy about dancing with you that night you found me at HAZE.”

Tate’s hand snaked around his hips to the front of his pants, and Logan bucked his hips against the fingers kneading him.

“And how was the reality?”

He felt Tate’s lips on his neck as he placed kisses along it.

“Fucking incredible. I’ve never been big on dancing, but Jesus, the way you do it is like having sex on my feet. Which made me think—”

Logan turned, and Tate’s lips found his. He kissed him hard, and when he pulled away, his mouth tipped into a suggestive smile.

“What would it be like to have sex with you, on your feet, just like this? Eyes forward. Hands on the wall, Logan.”

Logan’s cock hardened at the instruction, and he brought his hands up to place his palms on the wall and angled the lower half of his body out slightly.

“Like this, you say?”

Tate’s body left his, and Logan felt a hand run down his back.

“Exactly like that.”

He could hear movement behind him and tried to get control of himself, to do as he’d been told, but he was so fucking excited that he could barely stand the suspense.

“I was just taking my clothes off. Making myself more at home. You don’t mind, do you?”

Logan grit his teeth and then felt Tate’s hands on his hips.

“That’s what you told me the first time I ever came here. ‘Take off all your fucking clothes if it makes you more comfortable.’ And tonight”—Logan closed his eyes as Tate’s lips brushed his ear—“it does.”

“You’re such a damn tease,” he rasped.

Tate moved his hands around his waist and unbuttoned the top of his pants. “I’m not teasing, and you want this, don’t you? Right here against the wall, with your pants around your ankles.”

“Yes,” he hissed, and his hips thrust back towards Tate.

“I thought so.”

Logan sucked in a breath when Tate’s hand unzipped his pants and shoved them to his feet. He went to move out of them and got one foot free when Tate opened his mouth and stopped him.

“Leave them there. The thought of seeing your clothes half on while I slide my cock inside you is hot as hell. Like you didn’t give a fuck about getting them off, and I couldn’t wait to have you.”

Then he was against him, and Tate’s naked cock was nestled between his ass cheeks.

“And Logan? I can’t fucking wait to have you.”

* * *

Tate stared at the white shirt covering Logan’s back and pushed it up with his hands until it was scrunched above his shoulder blades. Logan’s arms were stretched out, bracing himself against the wall, and the muscles in his back were tense as he stood there—hips and ass pointed in his direction.

Tate bent his knees slightly, dragged his cock through Logan’s tight cheeks, and closed his eyes for a second. He was practically vibrating with his own energy, a mix of arousal and power, and he needed to get ahold of himself.

He brought two of his fingers to his mouth and sucked them between his lips, making sure he was loud enough that Logan heard the sound in the quiet condominium. He knew it had reached him when a throaty moan left the man in front of him and Logan pushed back against him.

Pulling his fingers free, Tate taunted him, “You want that, huh?”

“Fuck you, Tate.”

Tate used all of his strength and pushed against Logan until his arms gave way and he had him back with his cheek against the wall.

“Actually, I’m gonna fuck you if you don’t mind.”

Logan tried to move against him, but Tate was determined and held him in place.

“You sure about that? All I hear is a lot of talk.”

Tate chuckled in his ear and brought his wet finger down to the line of Logan’s ass. With unerring accuracy, he found his hole. Logan’s ass cheeks tensed, and Tate bit his ear.

“I’m sure. And you’re gonna love every fucking second.”

He felt Logan’s entire body tremble against him.

“Want it hard, Logan? Or want me to—”

“Hard.”

Tate felt a thrill race up his spine as he pushed his finger inside Logan with no more warning.

“Christ,” Logan hissed, and Tate rubbed his dripping cock over Logan’s rounded ass cheek.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

“So are you,” Logan told him, his voice ragged.

“Only you would know,” Tate murmured and pulled his finger out.

“I love that you let me in—all of you.”

He could hear Logan’s breathing get faster as he told him, “Don’t move.”

Then he disappeared out of sight.

* * *

Like he was going any-fucking-where.

Logan watched out of the corner of his eye as Tate disappeared from sight, and when he felt two hands on his ass pulling him apart, he couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

He closed his eyes when he felt first Tate’s hair on the skin of his cheek, then his nose, right before—hell fucking yes—a warm, wet tongue moving across his eager hole. Logan grunted and pushed his hips back, and Tate dug his fingers in and once again widened him to lap at the shadowy cleft with the tip of his tongue.

Tate had played around with him a couple of times when it came to rimming. A few quick flicks of his tongue here and there, but right now, as he knelt behind him and spread him apart, Tate was not playing around.

When the tip of his tongue entered him, Logan had to reach down and clench a tight fist around his cock. He was so close to coming from the feel of Tate’s tongue in his ass, but he knew there was more to come, so there was no way he was going to ruin that by exploding all over the wall early.

Tate’s mouth left him, and a low cry escaped him until the fingers from earlier were back and sliding inside him.

“Ahh.”

A low fucking growl came out of Tate and just about had him begging until strong teeth found his ass cheek and were sinking in. Logan tried to catch his breath, but it was coming in rapid pants now as Tate soothed the bite with kisses and scissored his fingers inside of him. Tate had been paying attention, and hell if that didn’t turn him on even more.

When that dexterous tongue tickled the top of his crack, Logan reached back with one hand and held himself open for him.

There is that fucking sound again.

It was somewhere between a hum and a groan, and coming from Tate, it was sexy as hell. It sounded like he was about to attack at any moment, and he did. His mouth moved closer, and as he pulled his fingers free, he leaned forward and tongued the spot before he pushed them back inside.

Logan felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Now, Tate. Now.”

Fingers and tongue left his body, and as he stood there with one arm braced against the wall, the other wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. He heard some tearing sounds and a bottle and knew Tate was rolling on the condom and lubing up.

He counted back from fifty, trying to get ahold of himself. Then Tate was behind him and the head of his cock was pushing for entry. Again, he felt Tate push his shirt up to his shoulders, and then warm lips touched the top of his spine as his voice filled the air.

“You’re unbelievably sexy, and I’m so fucking lucky to be the one who has you.”

Before Logan could respond, Tate drove his cock inside him in one hard thrust.

* * *

The sound that left Logan as he penetrated him made Tate crazy.

It was a hoarse cry of fulfillment, and as Tate stilled inside him, he felt one of Logan’s hands come down to grab the side of his thigh. He let go of Logan’s shirt and gripped his shoulder, pulling him up straight and pushing even deeper.

“Yeah…Tate. Damn.”

Tate could feel the back of Logan’s thighs against the front of his own, and his ass was now firmly seated against his groin. Wrapping an arm around Logan’s neck, he kissed his ear and whispered, “You like that?”

He didn’t wait for an answer as Logan’s fingers gripped his thigh harder. He just pulled slowly out and then powered home again.

Logan’s head fell back onto his shoulder, and he reached down to grip his cock. Tate kissed the side of his neck and smiled against the curve where it met his shoulder, exactly where his work shirt would cover. Then he started to suck.

He felt Logan’s hips begin to move and pull off his cock, and when he slammed back, taking him inside again, Tate held his hips and let him go.

Oh hell yes. Fuck yourself on me while I leave my mark.

He stumbled slightly from the strength of Logan’s thrusts, and suddenly Tate had a thought. “Stop.”

Instantly, Logan’s entire body froze.

Tate slowly pulled free of him and moved to the opposite wall. When Logan looked over his shoulder, Tate raised an arm and crooked a finger. He smirked as Logan kicked the pants off his ankle and walked across the space.

When he stopped in front of him, Tate instructed, “Turn around.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bossy command but did it anyway. Without waiting, Tate grabbed his hips and pulled him back.

“Now you can fuck my cock like you can’t get enough and I won’t fall over.”

“Your mouth is filthy tonight.”

Tate penetrated him with one smooth thrust and bit his shoulder. “Yes it is, and you fucking love it.”

“God, that’s the truth.”

Tate splayed his hands on either side of Logan’s hips and rocked forward off the wall.

“Yes…”

“So come on, Logan. Use me to get off.”

* * *

Logan braced his legs and twisted his upper body to put a hand on the wall behind Tate.

Tate had a firm hold on his hips and was pistoning his cock in and out of him with more speed now that he had the support of the wall behind him. His brown eyes were locked on him, and every time he bottomed out, he grunted in a way that made Logan want to come.

Logan raised his hand and spat in it so he could madly continue stroking his cock as he fucked himself on Tate’s stiff erection.

“Jesus.”

Nothing felt as good as when Tate took him over. It was like he always knew what he needed, and right now, he needed hard and brain numbing.

He had to turn away from the gorgeous face staring back at him because it was all becoming too much, and when Tate’s lips landed on his back and his hand came around to help him stroke his cock, Logan shut his eyes and shouted out his name.

The climax raced down and grabbed a tight hold of his balls as he came in a fury. But Tate wasn’t done with him, and as he rubbed their sticky hands together, he pulled out of him, turned him around, and slammed his back up against the wall.

“Fuck, Logan,” he growled in that same voice from earlier. “Get on your knees and take your shirt off. I want to look at you when I come.”

No problem, he thought and took off his shirt while Tate removed the condom. He was having trouble staying on his feet anyway, and as Tate started masturbating with a slick handful of his come, Logan watched mesmerized.

He had his head tipped forward, looking down at him where he knelt naked at his feet, and the veins of his neck were corded. Tate’s entire body flexed and tensed with every thrust and fuck of his hips as he feverishly worked his cock.

“Oh hell yes. Come on, Tate.”

Tate widened his stance, reached forward with his free hand, and grabbed a handful of his hair, tilting his head back. But it wasn’t until Logan lifted a hand and touched his fingers to Tate’s balls that a shout tore out of him and he came magnificently all over Logan’s chest and neck.

“Ahh, fucking hell,” Tate cursed, and as his hand loosened in his hair, Logan reached up and ran his finger through the sticky liquid that had hit his nipple.

He looked right at Tate as he brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it inside.

Tate gave a throaty laugh and slid down the wall opposite him.

“Not so sweet after all,” Logan commented with a wink.

“No?”

Logan shook his head. “There’s a hint of sweet with a full helping of stubborn and dirty as fuck.”

Tate raised a brow as if to say, ‘And?’

“In other words, just right.”

28.

Logan got to work early Monday morning, and as he was drinking his coffee at his desk, he started thinking back to last night.

After the incredibly intense coupling in his hall, they’d crawled into bed and Tate had placed his head on his shoulder and fallen asleep. He’d been tired, no doubt exhausted from the week before. Logan wondered if Tate would ever be as carefree as he had been before all of this with his family.

He’d grown up with a somewhat flaky mother, and his father hadn’t even cared to have him around in the first place, no matter whom he liked—girls or boys.

Tate was the opposite.

He’d grown up with a family that loved him, a sister who’d probably idolized him, and they’d all gone to church and had family lunches on Sundays.

Now, that was no longer an option. They’d disowned him.

Cut him off and pushed him aside because of me.

A knock on his door disrupted him, and when he looked up, he saw Cole stick his head in.

“Can I come in?”

Logan sat back in his seat. “Since when have you ever asked?”

Cole didn’t bother with an answer. He just opened the door and wandered inside. After making his way over to the chair opposite Logan’s desk, he took a seat.

“So how’d the trip go?”

“What? No small talk?”

“I’m sorry, are we on a date?”

Logan rolled his eyes and rubbed his fingers across his lips. “The trip went well. Very well.” He paused for a moment and then smiled. “But unlike you and Rachel, we didn’t come back married.”

The droll look Cole gave him made Logan chuckle.

“You’re here early.”

“So are you,” he pointed out, and Cole agreed.

“Yeah. I need to take Rachel to her doctor’s appointment this afternoon, so I shuffled a few things around.”

“Ahh, I see. And how is the mother-to-be?”

“Incredibly…sexy.”

Not really what he’d expected.

“Sexy?”

“Yes. Rachel’s always been, well...”

“I remember,” Logan supplied when it seemed Cole was stuck in his head fantasizing. “I caught you on your desk once upon a time. Or have you forgotten?”

“No. You were a pain in the ass that day—as usual. But ever since she’s been pregnant, it’s like her sex drive has gone off the fucking charts.”

Logan started laughing at the incredulous look on Cole’s face. “And that’s a problem?”

“Fuck no,” Cole assured him, and Logan waited. “But I’m worried about hurting her. She’s so small and wants it so—” Cole cut himself off, seeming to realize what he’d been about to say. His brother was not the type to discuss his extracurricular activities.

“Rachel’s not the kind to keep something like that to herself. If it hurt, she’d tell you to stop.”

“I know. You’re right. I just worry about her and the baby.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Logan said as he leaned forward and put his arms on the desk.

Cole nodded. “Yeah. It’s a whole new level, you know?”

There was a short stretch of silence, and then Logan gave him a smart-ass smirk. “Not really.”

The comment was enough to break the tension and had Cole chuckling.

Logan then picked up the papers in front of him. “I came in early to look over the guest list for Friday’s dinner. These last two business clients—they’re new.”

Cole stood and took the list off him. “Ahh yes. They were last-minute additions.”

Logan opened his laptop and powered it up. “Okay. I’m gonna check it out so I know who to charm, and then we should be good to go.” Cole turned to leave, and just before he got through the door, Logan called out, “I’ll have a plus-one for Friday night.”

Cole glanced over his shoulder and gave him a smug look. “I know. I already told Jane. Tell Tate that Rachel can’t wait to see him.”

Logan sighed and then felt a grin tug his lips as his brother shut the door. “Presumptuous bastard.”

He lowered his eyes to the computer screen in front of him and typed in: LPCW Architecture. He waited for the screen to pull up, and when it did, he saw a beautiful webpage. It was set up to show some of the buildings the company had restored and designed in and around downtown Chicago.

This would be good for us. An important client to add to the firm.

Logan scrolled along the bar at the top and searched the drop-down menus for the owners. When he found it, he clicked and waited. Then the photos started to appear.

 AIA/LEED AP PARTNER – Lance Powell and his image.

The guy was attractive enough. He was in his mid-forties with dark hair and eyes, but nothing remarkable that stood out. He appeared all business, and Logan did like that. The shrewd eyes of someone who liked to make money and keep it.

He then scrolled to the second image and felt his mouth fall open. There, looking back at him, was AIA/LEED AP PARTNER – Christopher Walker.

Oh shit.

Logan’s heart started hammering in his chest as the blond-haired guy with the blue eyes and charming smile continued to stare right at him. After dredging up his past with Tate, Logan suddenly felt as though karma were coming around to fuck with him somehow.

But for what?

Focusing on the image again, he quickly picked up his phone and dialed his PA.

“Sherry?” he barked out.

“Well, it’s lovely to have you back,” she replied with a voice so full of sarcasm that Logan winced. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Mitchell.”

Hell. He was so fucking psyched out he hadn’t even realized it had just turned eight a.m.

Fully chastised, Logan apologized. “I’m sorry. Good morning.”

“Good morning. Now, is there something I can do for you?”

Logan once again returned his attention to the screen and asked, “Can you pull up the names of the guests who RSVP’d to the function this Friday?”

“I thought Mr. Madison put a list on your desk this morning.”

“Yes. He gave me a list of the companies, but not the actual names. I wanted to see who was attending from LPCW Architecture.”

He heard some papers being shuffled around and then Sherry’s voice came back over the line.

“Okay, it says Mr. Lance Powell plus one and”—Logan closed his eyes and held his breath, thinking, Please no, please no, please—“Mr. Christopher Walker plus one.”

“Fuck.”

The line went silent, and then Sherry coughed as if clearing her throat. That was when Logan realized he’d said it out loud.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem, Mr. Mitchell. Will there be anything else?”

Just a gun so I can shoot myself.

“No, Sherry. That’ll be all.”

Logan hung up the phone and glared at it. Then he looked back at the screen. He could feel his hands shaking as his mind raced at a million miles an hour.

How can this be happening right now?

He stood up and turned away from the glaring reminder of his past. It was like some twisted fucking joke. Just when he’d confessed his worse nightmare, it came back to haunt him. He rubbed his fingers against his forehead.

How the fuck was he going to tell Tate?

“Oh, by the way, remember Chris? Yeah, he’s going to be at the work function. You know, the one where I’m supposed to introduce you to everyone as my partner.”

Logan kicked his foot against the wall and then cursed at the pain that shot up his leg.

Goddamn it. Yeah, break your foot, moron.

He pulled out his cell and pressed it to his chest, thinking about every possible scenario. There was no way he couldn’t tell Tate, and the thought of telling him terrified him.

They’d just gotten to a good place—and now this.

Bringing his phone up, he hit Tate’s number and placed a hand on the metal divider of the windows, waiting for him to answer.

Logan almost wished for a moment that he’d get Tate’s voicemail, but then what the fuck would he say?

“Mornin’.”

Logan closed his eyes and pictured Tate exactly how he’d left him—lying on his back, the sheet down by his hips, and one leg out over the top. He’d noticed that about Tate. It was almost as if he couldn’t decide if he were hot or cold, so he always gave himself the option.

That made him smile.

“You sound half-asleep.”

“It’s only eight a.m. Not everyone has a nine-to-five job, you know.” Tate’s voice was teasing and relaxed, and Logan hated that he would be the one to make that change.

“Have you worked a nine-to-five before?”

“Nope. Probably never will either. I like playing at night.”

Logan heard the invitation in Tate’s voice, and he wanted to take it, but—

“Hey? I need to talk to you about something today. Do you think you’d be able to meet me for lunch?” Logan closed his eyes and tried to get his heart to slow the fuck down.

“Logan?”

He heard the sheets rustle and knew Tate had just sat up.

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

Logan heard the confusion in Tate’s voice and knew he wanted to be there to gauge his reaction when he told him this.

“I’d rather talk in person.”

“Oh sure, ‘cause that’s not gonna freak me out all morning.”

Logan knew he was saying this all wrong. He was never any good at getting the right words out when it came to Tate.

“No. It has nothing to do with you.”

The line went silent and all Logan could hear at the other end was Tate’s breathing.

“Nothing to do with me? So what does it have to do with, Logan? You?”

Logan winced at Tate’s tone. He was pissed, and Logan couldn’t really blame him.

“Yes. This is to do with me.” Suddenly, he realized how that sounded and added, “To do with us.”

“Logan, what the fuck is going on? It’s only been a couple of hours since you left.”

He turned around and stared at the computer screen that still had Chris’s photograph centered and tried to reassure Tate. “It’s not us. It’s just something that happened here at work. And I’d like to talk to you in person about it.”

He heard Tate sigh and could actually see him in his mind running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Okay. Where do you want me to meet you?”

Logan thought about it for a second then suggested, “The Daily Grind?”

“Fine. What time?”

Yeah. Tate was good and pissed. Logan checked his watch.

“How about noon?”

“Fine.”

The one-word answer was as telling as the tone.

“Tate?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

Logan waited as his heart thumped in his chest. Then he heard Tate reply, “Me too.”

And he breathed a little easier.

* * *

Tate arrived at the coffee shop a little earlier than they’d agreed on and found a booth in the back corner.

He’d been a mess all fucking morning.

After Logan hung up, there’d been no way he could get back to sleep, and he’d just lain there and run through everything that had happened the night before.

Did I do something to upset him? Offend him?

No, he didn’t think so. They’d gone dancing, and when they’d gotten home...he knew he hadn’t offended Logan then.

Maybe the stress of his family had finally gotten to Logan.

Fuck him for being so damn evasive. I’m driving myself crazy.

Tate watched the front door. When it opened and Logan stepped inside, he felt his heart skip. He looked like he had the first time Tate had ever seen him.

Logan was dressed in a grey three-piece suit and vest, with a crisp, white shirt and perfectly tied, navy-blue tie. Tate watched him scan the coffee shop from behind his black hipster glasses, and when he spotted him, Logan started his way.

Tate tried to decide what was different about him as he walked through the people milling around the counters. As he got closer, he realized that Logan was rubbing his hands together in front of him.

He’s nervous.

Tate watched him come to a stop by the booth he was at and ask, “Did you already get something?”

“I’m not hungry,” he told him, shaking his head.

“Okay then.”

“You go ahead and grab lunch if you like. I’ll wait here.”

Logan looked to the counter and then turned back to him. “Give me one sec. I’m just going to order a coffee.”

Sure, it’s not like I’ve been waiting all morning for you to tell me what the hell is going on.

“Fine.”

Logan leaned down to kiss his cheek and said, “If you tell me fine one more time, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

As he pulled away, Tate gave a fake grin full of teeth and answered, “Fine.”

Logan took his chin between his thumb and forefinger and held him in place as he lowered his mouth so their lips were touching. “Smartass,” he whispered, and Tate’s eyes closed as Logan pressed a kiss to his mouth.

He lost himself right there in the booth as Logan’s tongue flicked over his lips, and it wasn’t until he heard a cough from the other side of the table that Tate realized someone had sat down.

Robbie.

“This is almost as hot as you two grinding on the dance floor last night.”

Logan lifted his head, and Tate looked across to see the mischievous barista smiling at him like a cat that got the cream.

“Okay, Robbie. Move out, would you?”

“Oh, come on, Logan. It was just getting good,” he whined. Then he lowered his voice as if imparting a secret. “And he obviously doesn’t mind an audience.”

“He can hear you,” Tate reminded the little shit. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

Robbie chewed on a piece of bright green gum and nodded. “Yep. I’m doing it. I came over to—”

“Take our order? So thoughtful,” Logan ended for him even though it was obvious by Robbie’s expression that that was not what he’d been about to say. “Want to get out of my seat?”

“How about you sit down beside me?” he invited as if Tate weren’t even there. Robbie’s habit of zeroing in on Logan and choosing to forget the rest of the world existed was surfacing yet again.

Tate watched Logan unbutton his jacket and noticed he held both his and Robbie’s attention as he peeled it off and then threw it across Robbie’s lap.

Logan then turned and looked at him. “Mind scooting over?”

Tate went to move over in the booth, and Logan sat beside him, placing a hand on his thigh under the table.

“Not too far.”

Tate swallowed slowly when he felt Logan’s hand squeeze his thigh. Then he turned back to Robbie, who was watching the both of them with an expression halfway between jealousy and arousal.

“Robbie?” Logan said.

Robbie’s eyes found Logan’s, and Tate knew what he was feeling. Poor kid. Logan was…potent.

“Can we have a double espresso and an extra nutty hazelnut latte?”

Tate turned his head in Logan’s direction, surprised that he remembered his drink. Then he saw a smirk hit his lips.

“My guy likes nuts.”

I’m going to kill him, Tate thought right before Robbie opened his mouth and made his murderous intentions shift to him.

“Then he’s got the perfect set to play with.”

Tate faced the punk who was laughing at him across the table. Then, calm as you please, Logan announced, “All right, Robbie. Time to leave.”

He got out of the booth and placed Logan’s jacket across the seat, but before he left, he looked them over once more. With the way Tate was glowering at him, he was surprised Robbie was still upright.

“It’s both, right? I can’t imagine someone as grumpy as you always receiving.”

“Robbie,” Logan growled.

Then Tate shocked the hell out of himself. “With Logan, I’d take it any way he wanted.”

“Holy shit, Tate,” Logan muttered, and Tate was more than satisfied with the longing look that came over Robbie’s face.

That’s right, Tate thought. No one will ever doubt who Logan is to me.

“Coffee would be great right about now,” Tate told him, feeling quite satisfied with himself. “Thanks.”

Robbie huffed and then walked away.

Tate believed that ninety percent of the guy was fun and games and the other ten percent had a massive crush on Logan.

He turned in the booth and realized that he couldn’t really blame Robbie. Logan was…Logan. If he’d had him once and then never again, he’d probably act the same way Robbie did.

Then Tate remembered why he was there, and suddenly, his confidence took a nosedive. He frowned when Logan turned to him, and when he placed an arm along the back of the booth, Tate told him, “Spit it out.”

Logan blinked at the command. Then his fingers touched the collar of his T-shirt.

“Logan, spit it out. I’ve been a fucking nutcase all morning.”

The slight quirk of Logan’s mouth irritated him.

“Do not joke about nuts again or I will kick you in your ‘perfect’ ones.”

When he added the air quotes, Logan started laughing. “You really do get kind of grumpy.”

“With you? Who wouldn’t? You woke me up then told me we needed to talk. Today. But not over the phone. In person.” Tate paused and then shoved his face in close to Logan’s. “You’re enough to make anyone grumpy.”

Logan’s blue gaze remained on his as he said softly, “That’s not very nice.”

“I’m not feeling very nice. I’m feeling fucking paranoid, and I hate that. What’s going on?”

Logan reached up and touched his fingers to his cheek before he pulled him in and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“It’s about the function on Friday.”

Tate’s mind starting racing. “Okay. Did you need me to stay home?”

“No,” Logan said quickly and then sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

“Then just fucking say it,” Tate finally demanded, his patience gone, and Logan did as he’d asked—and said it.

“Chris will be there.”