Текст книги "Try: 1"

Автор книги: Ella Frank

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But Tate managed to ask, “And now that you are?”

“Now that I am, you’re all that I think about,” Logan stressed.

Tate felt the hold on his arm finally release him from the wall as the body behind him relaxed for the first time since he’d been pulled into the room.

 “You caught me mouthing off to Cole. We’d argued earlier, and obviously, it’s no excuse, but it carried over. I’m sorry I said those things, and I’m sorry you heard it.”

Regaining his composure, Tate turned his head to look over his shoulder. When their eyes met, he told Logan, “I don’t have any expectations of how you should act, you know. I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time. Just don’t play around with me, okay? If you want this, fine. But if you don’t, tell me, so I’m not wasting my fucking time. I just want the truth.”

Logan focused on him, and he looked slightly shocked. Then, in a tone that Tate had never heard, he explained, “You’re not the only one who has changed in the last two weeks.” He paused and brought a hand up to touch Tate’s mouth before taking a step back. “You make me want things that I’d forgotten I wanted.”

As Tate was freed to turn around, he felt his heart beating rapidly until it overshadowed the throb that had, for now, subsided between his thighs. “That’s probably the most sincere thing that I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

Logan lowered his eyes to Tate’s hand. “Now, that’s not true. I was very sincere this morning when I told you that I loved sucking your—”

“Don’t ruin it,” Tate interrupted.

Logan stepped in close and took his closed hand with his own. Tate shook his head at the sensual look crossing Logan’s features as he raised it up to his mouth.

“But it’s true. I love sucking you almost as much as I love the taste of your cum.”

Logan’s tongue came out and licked Tate’s palm and fingers clean before raising his head and tracing it over Tate’s swollen lips.

“And you think I’m dirty.”

Logan let his hand go and reached down to adjust the obvious erection Tate could see in his pants.

“You are. But I’m much dirtier.”

“You really like the taste of it?” Tate asked, wanting to know.

“Well, I’m not lying just to get in your pants. Plus, didn’t you just say you wanted the truth?”

Logan stepped away quickly zipping his pants back up, before looking over to where Tate was standing. Tate watched him run a hand through his hair as a frown formed on his face, and the atmosphere in the small, dark room changed from sex to serious.

And with them both staring at one another, Tate asked, “So…what’s your truth, Logan?”

Logan stared at him so intently that Tate wondered what was going on inside his head before he replied, “I think you are,” leaving Tate speechless.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Logan had left the bar not long after he and Tate had each agreed that they needed a night off—a night to breathe and reflect. Or in Logan’s case, as he sat on the balcony with his feet propped up on the table and half a bottle of whiskey, he needed a night to get fully loaded. Resting his head back on the chair, he stared out at the scattered lights in the buildings surrounding him.

Tate Morrison. Logan hadn’t been lying. There was nothing easy about what he was feeling when it came to that man. Scary and surprising—yes.

He wasn’t one to give much credence to the whole love notion. Very little of it had been passed around in his life so far, and he just figured it was something people made up to make themselves feel better. That was, until Tate.

He’d managed to make Logan feel something only one other before him had, and Logan wasn’t sure if that made him happy or terrified. All he knew was that whatever it was, he needed to keep a close handle on it.

Raising the bottle, he took another sip, well on his way to the relaxed state he was craving.

Cole was also running through his head tonight. It had been a long time since he’d fought with that guy, and he hated it. They’d decided many years ago that it was neither of their faults that life had dealt them an asshole for a father, but every now and then, the old resentment came through, and Logan couldn’t help feeling pissed that he was the one their father had thrown away.

Placing the bottle down beside him, his cell phone started vibrating on the table. Reaching forward, he picked it up and saw Tate’s name flashing across the display. Sitting back in the chair, he snagged the bottle again and answered.

* * *

 Tate settled into his couch and waited for Logan to pick up. He’d been thinking about their conversation ever since Logan had left the bar earlier. A lot had been said in the few words Logan had actually spoken, and when he’d told Tate they should just meet up sometime tomorrow, Tate had known he, too, felt their relationship had shifted directions.

Glancing at the digital display on the DVR, he saw that it had just turned one fifteen. Maybe he’s sleeping? It was late. Just as he was about to hang up, the phone connected, and Logan’s voice washed over him.

“I was just thinking about you.”

Tate lay back on his couch and placed his head on the end pillow. “Should I even ask?”

There was a longer pause than he would have expected before Logan spoke.

“I don’t know. Do you want to?”

Tate knew this conversation could go one of two ways, and as much as he wanted to take the easy way out, he also wanted some answers if Logan were in the mood to give them.

“You asked me that like you expect me to say no,” Tate stated, and when there was no response, he asked, “Do you? Expect me to say no?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I do.”

Wow, well, that’s honest, Tate thought as he closed his eyes. “Want to tell me why?” He heard something—liquid, maybe—through the phone.

“I don’t know. Maybe because a couple of weeks ago, the thought of kissing a guy disgusted you.”

Logan sounded so different compared to the way he usually did that Tate couldn’t help himself from asking, “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” he admitted.

Tate wasn’t surprised that Logan was just as blunt when it came to the hard truths as he was with the easier ones.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Does it still disgust you?”

“The thought of kissing a guy? Or the thought of kissing you?”

Silence met his question as though Logan was thinking about it. “Isn’t it one and the same?”

Tate tried to imagine himself kissing another man, other than Logan, but since he’d never even entertained the thought before, he really didn’t have an answer. “It might be, but before you, I’d never thought about it.”

There was another louder swish in his ear, and Tate knew what the sound was. Logan was drinking.

“What are you drinking?”

“Jack.”

“You’re drinking cheap whiskey? Why not the usual?”

“Because Jack was here, and he’s real nice to swallow.”

“Do you just come up with this shit? Or do you have it all written down somewhere?”

“Hmm, I should write it down, shouldn’t I?”

Again, the sound of Logan taking a drink came through the phone, and then he asked, “So…why did you think about kissing me?”

Tate couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “How much have you had to drink?”

“What?” Logan questioned. “Why?”

“I’m asking because it must have impaired your brain. I thought about it with you because you wouldn’t give me a minute not to think about it. Every time I turned around, you were there.”

Awkward and tense silence greeted Tate after the final words left his mouth.

“So, you only did it because I was always there?”

Tate wasn’t quite sure, but he was almost positive that Logan sounded unsure, on the verge of vulnerable. That was something he’d never heard in him—ever. Logan didn’t strike him as the type of guy who usually poured his heart out.

“I did it because you got in my face and made me see how irresistible you are, regardless of your gender. And Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I still think that, but now, there’s so much more to it. I really like you.”

The laugh that met Tate’s ears was devoid of humor and full of mockery. “Really? Ninety percent of the time you’re furious with me.”

“Yeah, I know. You drive me crazy because I like you,” Tate stressed. “A lot.”

“A lot, huh?”

Closing his eyes, Tate imagined—finally—the smirk he could hear in Logan’s voice.

“A whole lot.”

“Like how much?”

Tate started laughing. “What are you? Twelve?”

“No. I’m drunk or really close.”

 “So, now is when I should ask you all the hard questions?” Tate queried only half-serious.

“Do you have hard questions?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Sure then. Fire away,” Logan replied flippantly.

Tate heard the underlying tone, and he recognized it for what it was—caution. “Okay. What really happened with Cole today?” Tate hadn’t realized he wanted to share that burden until it came out of his mouth.

Logan sighed. “You heard everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” Tate agreed, “but I only understand half of it.”

Tate wondered if this was the moment when he would see that this all meant more to him than—

“Well, you know he’s my brother, right?”

Tate let out a sigh of relief. Logan wasn’t going to shut him out. “Yeah.”

“We didn’t know that until I turned eighteen, and our father’s trust was made known to me.”

Logan stopped talking, and Tate waited.

“And I already told you that his father had an affair…well, obviously, he didn’t choose my mother and I...”

Tate couldn’t even begin to imagine how that would affect a teenager. Not only growing up without a father, but then also learning that he had a whole other family? A family that included a brother he had never known about.

“The asshole died when Cole was five, so at least I never had to meet him…” Logan revealed, and his voice trailed off, leaving Tate to wonder if he really meant it.

“Anyway, you didn’t ask all of this.”

“No. Don’t do that,” Tate finally spoke.

“Don’t do, what?”

“Don’t change the subject or assume that I don’t want to know about you. Talk to me. Tell me.” Tate held his breath and waited, hoping that Logan would open up and trust him.

“Okay. You want the details? Let’s see…my mother never married. She told me that she had fallen in love once and that the pain she’d felt from loving someone she shouldn’t far outweighed any joy, so there was no point.”

When Logan paused, Tate had to ask, “Someone she shouldn’t?”

“Yes. Sounds familiar, huh?”

“As in me? I’m hardly married, you know that.”

“But you’re straight.”

Tate swallowed and remained quiet, not really knowing what to say.

“I promised myself, I’d never have regrets, like the one she had.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I didn’t care one way or another what you said. I was willing to try anything just to taste you once.”

Tate knew that to be the truth, but decided to ask anyway. “And how did that work out?”

“I haven’t regretted it yet,” Logan answered right away. “But that’s a different conversation. You want to know why Cole was upset. Hmm, well, I tracked Cole down the minute I got to college. He was just starting his second year, and he hated me as soon as I told him my name.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

“Is it? All he knew was that his father, a man he’d idolized, had left a college trust fund to another kid—his other kid. I would have hated me, too.”

Tate sat up on the couch and shook his head. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“That didn’t matter. I represented everything bad that his father had done.”

“But you work together, so obviously, you get along now,” Tate queried.

“Oh yeah, I was a total pain in his ass the first month of college. Everywhere he went, I showed up.”

“Imagine that.”

Logan’s voice took on that same serious edge he’d had earlier. “When something is important, I don’t give up.”

Tate was about to pursue that, but then Logan started again. “Then, I found out where he was living off-campus, and I made myself at home on his doorstep until he talked to me.”

Tate couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped him. He could only imagine how annoyed Cole had been to find Logan on his steps every day.

Then, Logan confirmed it. “He was furious. We got into a fight that first day. He punched me right in the mouth.” Logan chuckled. “I thought he was going to do it again today.”

And there they were, back where they’d begun. “Why? What made him so mad?”

“You did.”

And with those two words, Tate felt his breath leave him at the blunt confession.

* * *

Logan put the bottle down next to him and sat up. God. The alcohol was making him run his mouth even more than usual.

“What do you mean, I did?” Tate’s voice finally filled the silence.

“He’s worried about me.”

“Well…yeah.”

Logan ran a hand over his face and up through his hair. What the fuck? Might as well put it all out there. Tate heard everything anyway.

“You asked me the other night, if I’d ever dated anyone else…” He trailed off, finding that for the first time, he was uncomfortable with discussing his sexual encounters—well, this particular encounter. When Tate stayed quiet, he rushed out, “If I’d let anyone else be with me like you are. And obviously, you heard I was with a guy named Chris.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Logan nodded and waited. When he heard nothing at the other end, not even breathing, he probed, “Tate? You there?”

“Yeah,” Tate sighed.

It sounded to Logan like he had been holding his breath.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You and Chris.”

“And?”

“It pisses me off.”

Logan felt the nice buzz in his head finally relax him a little. “I told you, you’re always pissed-off at me.”

“And I told you why.”

“Because you like me,” Logan repeated Tate’s words from earlier. “A lot.”

“I like you too fucking much, Logan.”

Logan swallowed and let that admission warm the rest of his body. “Chris and I met at college. We had the same algebra class. I was good at it. He wasn’t. So, I tutored him.”

“In algebra and…”

Logan could hear the veiled question hiding in Tate’s comment.

“And nothing. I only taught him algebra.”

“But he taught you things?”

“He taught me everything,” Logan confided and sat back in his chair.

He tried to picture Chris in his mind, but he came up blank. All he could see were Tate’s brown eyes and unruly curls and the lips that snarled or smiled at him, and he had to stop and really focus to even remember who Chris was.

“I don’t like him,” Tate’s voice interrupted matter-of-factly.

“You don’t know him.”

“I still don’t like him.”

“Because…” Logan drawled.

“Because he had you,” Tate told him much more boldly than Logan would have expected. “He fucked you, didn’t he?”

Enjoying Tate’s jealousy a little too much, Logan answered, “Yes. Quite a bit.”

“How much is quite a bit?”

“Want all the juicy details, Tate?”

Logan heard a long-suffering sigh, and then Tate cursed, “Fuck.”

“Tate?”

“What?” he barked at him.

Logan couldn’t help the way his dick reacted to it. “I can’t even remember what he looks like because all I can picture is you.” Logan’s heart ached as he waited for what felt like hours until Tate finally spoke.

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

“I do, and it scares me.”

“Why?” Tate whispered into the phone.

His voice had Logan wishing he hadn’t gone home alone and that he was instead lying in bed beside him.

“Come on, Tate. Don’t you think I wonder what will finally change your mind? What will make you think, what the hell am I doing?”

There—he’d finally voiced his biggest fear.

He could hear movement through the phone, and then Tate asked, “Is that what he did? Is that why Cole’s worried? He thinks I’m playing you?”

Logan sat back in the chair, and answered the question. “Yeah, that’s what Chris did. It wasn’t so much he changed his mind as denied everything when people found out.”

“Why? Was he straight?”

Logan almost choked on the bitter laugh that left his mouth. “In public, yes, but in my dorm room? Not even a little bit.”

“But you said he taught you. As in he’d been with others before, right?”

“As in, yes, he was gay, and it was my first time with a guy. And when someone found out and told all of his friends, he denied it and stopped talking to me.”

“Fucker,” Tate cursed through the phone.

“Yeah, well, Cole saw us arguing one day. Chris pushed me into the wall and threatened me. Before I even had a chance to respond, Cole beat his ass, right in the middle of everyone.”

“Good. Stupid dick deserved it,” Tate mumbled vehemently. “So, what happened after that?”

“He started dating every girl he could. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t fucking them though.”

“How do you know?”

Logan felt his own satisfaction come racing back to him as he said, “Because I made sure that I was fucking them while he was dating them.”

Tate started laughing so loudly that Logan had to pull the phone away from his ear. Good. He hadn’t been sure how that piece of information would go over.

“Only you, Logan, I swear.” Tate chuckled and then finally calmed. “So, that’s it? After that, you were with girls only?”

“No. After that, I was with whoever the hell I wanted to be with. He’d already told everyone I tried to come on to him, so I figured, why not. But never like that again.”

“In other words—”

Logan interrupted, “In other words, I haven’t bottomed since—until you.”

“Really?” Tate asked.

And it sounded to Logan like he was holding his breath.

“Really.”

Silence stretched between them, and then Tate promised, “I’d never hurt you like that.”

“That’s easy to say,” Logan agreed. “But no one knows your secret yet.”

“Because it’s been two weeks. Actually, less since it got physical. Cut me some slack. I just got used to the idea. I want to enjoy it before I have to defend it.”

Logan closed his eyes and asked the one question he dreaded, “And will you?”

“Will I…”

“Defend it?”

Logan heard Tate sigh in a way that didn’t bode well for his question at all. But he remained quiet, determined to let Tate say what he must, and then he would move on from there.

* * *

“Yes. I’ll defend it. But I won’t lie to you, my family is not going to understand this at all,” Tate told him candidly.

“This?”

“You, me. Us.”

A low hum of approval came through the phone, and Tate found himself stretching along with that contented sound.

“Us. I like the sound of that,” Logan confided.

Tate lowered a hand down between his thighs to rub it slowly against the erection swelling in his sweatpants. “So do I. So, tell Cole to stop trying to think for me.”

“I can’t tell Cole anything. But I will advise that he back off.”

“Good. Because I know what I want.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Logan, my family is traditional as hell. We all go to church on Sundays. Trust me, there’s not one part of this that’s going to be easy, but…” Tate felt his heart racing in his chest with his hard-on throbbing beneath his hands.

“But?”

“I want you. Am I supposed to walk away because you’re a man? Maybe. They’ll say yes for sure. But I’m sick of all the questions running around in my head.” Tate stopped and licked his lips. “I want the man who sat down across from me and changed the way I look at the world. And if that’s wrong, then I’m confused because when I’m near you, it feels so damn right.”

“Tate?”

“Hmm?”

“I wish I was in your apartment right now instead of out on my balcony.”

Tate took a moment and pictured Logan sitting outside among the glittering city lights.

“Are you still drinking?”

“No.”

Tate slid his hand into his pants and stroked his palm over his naked flesh, remembering this evening in the bar up against the wall.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, I do. Tate?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

Tate looked down his body and pushed his sweats over his hips. “Not yet.”

“What are you doing?”

“Listening to your voice and getting hard.”

A groan was Logan’s answer. When Tate heard a chair scrape, he knew that Logan had stood and was moving.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going into my bedroom to get naked. Want to come over?”

Tate played with his balls and let out a soft grunt at the invite. “It’s too late now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, I’m already hard, and I want to come.”

“Selfish,” Logan admonished gently. “If I remember correctly, you already came twice today. The least you could do is get on that death trap you call transportation, and come and return the favor.”

“Ah…” Tate sighed into the phone as he thrust up into his hand. “But then I’d have to stop what I’m doing.”

“Yeah,” Logan agreed.

There was a whole lot of shuffling going on, and then he was back, promising, “But I’m dying for it, and if you come here, instead of your hand, you can fuck me.”

Tate gritted his teeth. “You play dirty.”

“Come over, and I’ll show you how dirty. You know you want to.”

Tate glanced at the DVR clock, and it now read 1:40.

Am I really going to—

Oh, what the hell?

Tucking himself back into his sweatpants, he winced as he sat up, and then he stood, looking around his apartment for his helmet and jacket.

“Logan?” He located them both and picked them up.

“Yeah?”

Tate snagged his keys off the counter and said into his cell, “Fifteen minutes. Be ready.”

With that, he ended the call and walked out his front door before slamming it behind him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tate was buzzed into Logan’s condo lobby the second he arrived, and now found himself stepping out of the elevator and onto Logan’s floor.

What a difference a week could make, Tate thought as he rapped his knuckles on the door. Has it really only been a few days since I was standing here the first time around? There was no question in his mind this time. He wanted to be there.

As he stood in the empty hall in his gray sweatpants, white T-shirt, and leather jacket, he reached down to adjust the erection that hadn’t completely subsided since he’d left his apartment.

Seconds later, Logan’s front door opened, and Tate decided that the ride over had been worth leaving his place at two in the morning. His fingers tightened around his helmet as he quickly took in the wet hair swept back from Logan’s face, the dark growth shadowing his jaw, and every single inch of skin on display—and there was a whole hell of a lot.

Logan must have just stepped out of the shower because the light covering of hair on his chest glistened as he stood with his hand up on the open door. Tate’s gaze trailed down the hair of Logan’s chest and across his rippling abs until it narrowed and then disappeared behind the bright white towel secured around his hips.

Bringing his eyes back up to the ones watching him, Tate stepped forward, causing Logan to back up and drop his hand from the door. Once he was inside the condo, Tate kicked the door shut with his foot, dropped his helmet onto the floor, and advanced as Logan started walking backward. Shrugging out of his jacket, Tate kept his eyes on the man in front of him, who had a grin on his face that made Tate want to kiss it right off. As they made it out of the foyer and into the living room, Tate dumped his jacket on the floor and kept advancing on Logan.

“What’s on your mind, Tate?”

Tate reached over his shoulder, gathered the material of his shirt in his fist, and drew it up his back and over his head before tossing it on the ground.

“Just wondering if it’s a habit of yours to answer the door dressed like that?”

Logan looked down at himself and then brought devious eyes back up to his. “Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Tate felt his own mouth morph into a suggestive smirk. Reaching down to the top of his sweatpants, he loosened the drawstring as he kept moving forward. “It doesn’t hide much, does it?”

Finally, Logan came to a standstill when he backed into the kitchen island. He placed his hands on the solid surface behind him, which caused his body to thrust forward, showing Tate exactly how exciting this particular game of cat and mouse was for him.

“Well, my aim wasn’t really to hide so much as to provoke.”

Tate reached out to finger the spot where Logan had secured the towel. As Logan stood rooted to the spot, Tate pulled the material out of its hold, and when the towel loosened, Logan sucked in a breath.

Bringing the material up between them, Tate looked at it and then focused back on Logan as he dropped it onto the kitchen floor. Taking the final step he needed for his body to be pressed flush against Logan’s naked one, he placed his palms on the counter and penned Logan in.

With chests and hips locked together, Tate replied, “Well, mission accomplished. I’m provoked. Now, turn around.”

* * *

Logan’s eyes widened slightly at the demand as Tate took a step back. Instead of moving right away, Logan stayed where he was, fully erect and completely naked. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at and drooling over the picture Tate made, dressed only in loose sweats hanging from his hips, as he stood, waiting on him.

“Turn around?” he questioned, knowing full well that had been the order, but enjoying the game just the same.

“Yes,” Tate confirmed in a voice that made Logan’s shaft pound just a little harder. “Turn around. I want to see you. All of you.”

Logan turned but couldn’t help himself from saying, “Yes, sir.”

As the final word left his mouth, Tate crowded in behind him and shoved him up against the counter, so it was digging into his waist. Logan glanced back over his shoulder as Tate’s hand came up and gripped his chin. Slowly, he moved his face in until their lips met.

 “Such a smart mouth,” Tate acknowledged as Logan’s lips parted, “and tongue,” he made sure to add, licking them as he ground his hips in against Logan’s backside, making him very aware of the erection he was packing.

“Everything I want, and everything I crave, is you. Now, face forward,” Tate instructed as he let go of Logan’s chin and ran his fingers down his spine to his tailbone.

“Spread your legs,” Tate whispered against the back of his head.

Moving only slightly, Logan hardly widened his stance at all, and he heard Tate laugh at the smart-ass move. He started to feel the thrill of victory at his small win until Tate put his foot between his and kicked them apart.

“Spread ’em, Logan, nice and wide. Stop acting like you don't want it when we both know that you do.”

This time, he couldn’t help the huff of air that came from him as Tate urged him down onto the cool, unforgiving surface of black marble with a firm palm between his shoulder blades.

Against his back, Logan could feel Tate’s warmth as he bent down with him, curling his front against him. Then, Tate smoothed his free hand over his bare ass and ghosted his fingers across the dark shadowed crease of his body.

Logan clenched his teeth against the pleasure that made his body quiver from the sure touch, as a shiver of pleasure made his entire body tremble. All the while he was thinking, I’m screwed. With this guy, I’m fucking screwed.

* * *

“Damn. What is it about you?” Tate wondered out loud as he straightened to run his palms up and down Logan’s sides, enjoying the feel of his skin under his hands.

Logan remained bent at the waist with his face against the counter and his legs spread wide.

“My sparkling personality?”

Tate brushed his fingers down Logan’s crack and smiled as the man’s entire body tensed.

“Nope, it’s not that.”

When Logan’s eyes met his, the best they could from his prone position, Tate’s fingers pushed between his cheeks to the heated pucker waiting for him.

“Although, it may be part of it,” Tate joked as he felt slick moisture on his fingertips and realized exactly how ready Logan was for him. “You’re already lubed up? You fucking deviant. Just begging for it,” Tate whispered as he grazed his fingertip against Logan’s hole, “aren’t you?”

“Yes, I fucking am,” Logan admitted readily around a curse.

“Just how badly do you want it, Logan?”

“Jesus, Tate, how bad do you think? Look at me. You think I do this for everyone?”

Tate had to agree, the man had a point. With a quick pinch to his ass, Tate grinned when Logan flinched.

 “Oh, I’m looking, trust me. Spread out, bent over your kitchen counter,” Tate relayed all that he could see. Then, he brought his lips down to Logan’s ear as his finger probed for entry and found it. “I think I like it—a lot. And so do you,” he confirmed as his finger thrust forward, causing Logan to move up onto his toes.

“Ah…” was the unintelligible sound that ripped out of Logan as Tate watched his toes curl against the tile while his body got used to the invasion.

Gradually pulling his finger free, Tate brought two fingertips back to Logan’s rim to play. “Did you have fun putting this on without me?”

Logan looked back at him once again. He tried to regain some control of the situation, but it was useless. Tate held it all, and Logan fucking knew it. So, instead Logan gave him a seductive once-over. “No need to feel bad, Tate. I thought about you the whole time.”

Pulling the edge of his sweats down, Tate freed his hard-on from its confines as he continued fingering Logan.

“Who said I felt bad? I want to know if you had fun?” Tate asked again, emphasizing his point by pushing the tips of his fingers back into Logan’s body.

There was a loud groan and then Logan replied, “Yes. Yes! Fuck yeah.”

“And what were you thinking about?”

As Tate slid his fingers in and out, methodically stretching him as he’d been taught, Logan's breath became labored.

“Was thinking about this.”

“This, huh?” Tate queried, knowing exactly what he meant. “My fingers inside you? Or maybe you were thinking about more than that.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what? These one-word answers are not working for me.” Tate came down over Logan again and placed his mouth on his shoulder. “Yes, you were thinking about more?”

Logan's hips bucked back as his ass clenched around Tate’s invading fingers.

“Come on, Logan, tell me your dirty secrets. Just how many fingers do you want?”

Logan clenched his teeth, and whispered, “Another.”

Tate stood back up and looked down to where his fingers were disappearing and reappearing. Smoothing his free hand over Logan’s ass cheeks, he spread him apart and slowly pushed three thick fingers inside the hot body bent before him. Holy fuck, what a sight.

“This is unreal…Logan, so sexy,” were the words that left him as he twisted and flexed his fingers.

When he pulled them out, he apparently hit Logan’s prostate because he shouted out Tate’s name and jammed his hips backwards, demanding roughly, “Again.”

As Tate eased them inside, Logan let out a loud groan. Tate was mesmerized by how wide he was stretching him and how much Logan was loving it.