Текст книги "Try: 1"

Автор книги: Ella Frank

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Unable to help himself, Tate lowered down over the spread-out man and put his mouth to Logan’s upturned cheek, licking the stubble there. After kissing the corner of Logan’s mouth, Tate’s eyes held his as he vowed, “I don't care what anyone says. Love being with you like this. I fucking love it.”

* * *

Logan heard Tate speaking as his fingers were grazing against that perfect spot, but he’d lost the ability to comprehend. He was spread apart and bent over, and he was quickly falling harder and faster for the man giving him exactly what he wanted.

For years, he’d denied this side of himself, but he’d always loved bottoming for Chris. The bite of pain, the roughness, it had all added to the pleasure. Although thinking back now, that was probably more due to Chris’s selfishness than a want to fulfill Logan’s own desires.

But not here, not this time with Tate. Tate was watching and reading every single move he made, and he was relishing in the power he held while he was busy getting off on being at Tate’s mercy.

“Hell, Logan. You weren’t lying on the phone, were you? You were dying for me to come take you. That’s what makes you so goddamn sexy—the fact that you don’t wait around when you see something you want, and you don’t stop until you’re…absolutely…fucking…satisfied.”

Logan sucked in a breath as Tate shoved his hips hard against his ass with each enunciated word, and his fingers spread inside him. With every rub of the guy’s cock over his flesh, he could feel the sticky proof of Tate’s excitement against the skin on his backside.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shouted as Tate removed his fingers from his body. Logan knew what was coming next, and when he felt the bare head of Tate’s shaft brush up against his ass, he clenched his jaw and barely remembered to ask, “Protection. God, please say you have a condom.”

Tate’s fingers dug into his hips, and he cursed out, “Hell, wait here. Do not move.”

Logan couldn’t have moved even if he tried. His cock was pulsating, his ass was needy, and his body was just about to go into a meltdown. The only cool parts of him were his stomach and the right side of his face, which were pressed up against the marble. He stretched his arms out to the sides, and a moan of pleasure escaped his lips when he felt Tate’s body come back and line up behind him, wedging his thick shaft between his cheeks.

Closing his eyes, Logan tried to calm himself as warm fingers spread him apart. When the head of Tate’s erection pressed against his stretched rim, Logan let out a breath of air as he was penetrated one slow inch at a time. He could feel a palm resting flat on his back at the base of his spine, and as the pressure increased, he relished the delicious fullness of having Tate inside him.

“Nothing feels like you do,” Tate admitted hotly behind him.

Logan had thought that this coupling would be hard and fast, but as Tate lodged himself inside and stopped. Tate came down over him and spread his arms out to the sides where Logan’s lay, and he entwined their fingers. The mouth by his ear kissed the shell of it, and the hips pressed up against him moved in a slow rotation.

“Every time we do this, it convinces me that I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Logan shuddered and pushed himself back, trying to get Tate closer somehow. He couldn’t find the words for the emotions he was feeling, so he remained silent and instead allowed himself to sink into the feelings. For the first time, he let them wash over him and wrap around him, much like Tate was.

“I don’t care how hard it might be. I need to know why it’s you who makes me feel this way. If it’s just sex or if it’s more, I need to know if you feel this way, too.” Tate professed.

Logan remained uncharacteristically quiet for a change as Tate’s words came to a halt. Then, he felt a tongue touch his lobe, and Tate’s hips rocked forward.

“You feel the same, don’t you? You told me this scares you. Tell me why, Logan.”

Logan felt Tate lift slightly, and when he pressed a kiss to his cheek, Logan nervously licked his lips. “Playing dirty, Tate?”

“If I have to. Tell me,” he replied, refusing to give Logan an easy way out.

Shutting his eyes, Logan admitted, “It scares me because of how much I want it.”

Tate nuzzled into his neck and shoulder, and Logan’s body trembled under the man behind him.

Suddenly, he couldn’t shut his mouth. “I’ve never wanted something more. But with you, I can’t seem to stop myself. I want to look at you and know that you’re mine, and that terrifies me.”

Tate’s fingers wrapped around his own as he brought their arms in close to his sides, and then Tate asked again, “Why?”

Logan found Tate’s eyes and finally acknowledged, “Because I think I could love someone like you.”

Tate’s breath left him in a quick rush of air, and then he was gone. He released Logan’s arms and straightened up behind him. Logan felt strong fingers holding him in place as Tate slowly pulled from his body before surging back inside. He heard a low moan behind him, and as he pushed back onto the body moving inside his own, Logan enjoyed the wicked slide into oblivion.

* * *

 Tate looked at the smooth skin of the muscled back laid out for him and wondered when this had gone from a quick fuck to making love. As he slowly pulled his hips away from Logan, he knew that was exactly what he was doing. He was making love to this man.

Logan’s eyes were shut, from what he could see, and his hands were braced under him, so with each of Tate’s thrusts, he could move back on him. But all Tate could think about were the words, because I think I could love someone like you, and all of a sudden, Tate wanted more.

Pulling out of Logan, Tate heard him groan from the loss as he managed in a gruff tone, “Turn around.”

Slowly, Logan stood and turned to face him. As soon as they were face-to-face, Tate took the back of his neck in his palm and pulled him forward. Capturing his mouth in an urgent kiss, Tate heard a moan slip free from Logan as one of his hands cupped Tate’s cheek.

Their tongues tangled, and their cocks bumped against one another.

Tate ripped his mouth away, breathless. “Need you, but not like that.”

“How then? Tell me what you need.”

“Bed. You in your bed.”

Logan nodded once and didn’t waste any time. He turned and made his way into the bedroom with Tate following close behind, keeping his eyes on the ass he planned to take as soon as they were on a soft mattress.

When Logan stopped by the side table and opened it to remove a bottle of lube, Tate bumped into him and ordered softly, “Get in the bed.”

“I like this bossy side of you almost as much as the aggravated side. Am I demented?”

Tate felt a grin hit his lips for the man who continually threw him off guard, but he wanted more from Logan than smart-ass comments. He wanted to see inside this man. He wanted to know all of him.

“Earlier tonight, you told me that I was your biggest truth, but that’s not right. You know what the biggest truth is, here in this room?”

Logan looked down at their bodies and then back at him. “Other than the glaringly obvious?”

“Yes. Other than that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“The biggest truth is that we’re both trying something new, and you know what?”

Logan’s face changed and became serious at that comment. “What?”

“We both love it.” Tate’s eyelids lowered, and he gestured with a tilt of his chin. “Get in bed, Logan. I want you.”

Tate watched as Logan climbed into the bed and lay down on his back. He turned his head on the pillow, his black hair stark against the white, as he reached out his free arm and crooked his finger at him.

“Come here.”

Placing his knee onto the mattress, Tate took the bottle of lube in his hand, poured some into his palm, and gripped his erection, stroking it several times.

God, he liked this man. In fact, Tate thought he was pretty damn amazing, and that was when it hit him. Somehow, this man is perfect for me. Tate brought his eyes back to Logan’s face. How can that be? And more importantly, how am I okay with the fact that my perfect person is a, him?

But as Logan stared back at him and Tate crawled between his legs, he knew without a doubt that he was. Kneeling between Logan’s thighs, Tate’s heart started to pound.

Logan’s lips tipped up, and a smile split his mouth. “What are you thinking about?”

Tate laid down over him, and as Logan’s mouth parted and that sexy bottom lip pouted out, Tate couldn’t help but take a gentle bite of it, watching as his eyes slid closed.

“You don’t want to know. It would terrify you.”

Logan’s eyes opened immediately. “Really? That bad?”

Tate rocked his hips on top of the body under him. “Really. That good. Now, shh, would you?”

Raising himself up and over Logan, Tate gripped his cock in his hand and directed himself toward Logan’s waiting body. Logan bent his legs, and Tate easily slipped inside the man and groaned, lowering his head into the crook of Logan’s neck.

Resting his forearms by Logan’s head, Tate began to move slowly in and out of him.

“Tate,” Logan sighed, turning his head until his face was nestled in against his hair.

Tate closed his eyes from the pleasure of having him there. Bumping his hips back and forth, he threaded his fingers into Logan’s hair, and he raised his head to look down into a face, full of emotion and desire.

As Logan raised his knees and wrapped his legs around Tate’s waist, he whispered, “Terrify me.”

Tate’s breath caught in his throat at the sincerity in those two words. The look on Logan’s face was one of absolute ecstasy, and every time Tate pulled out of him and then pushed back inside, a breath of air left from Logan’s lips.

“So perfect,” Tate praised as he stared down, captivated by the face that had become essential to him.

He fingered the black hair in his hands as Logan’s palms trailed down his spine to his ass where he caressed him before pulling him closer.

“Tate. Tate…Tate,” Logan chanted.

Tate picked up his pace, and he knew he had him.

Kissing his ear, Tate snaked an arm down between them, taking Logan’s dripping cock and stroking it.

“Gonna make you come, Logan. Come on, I want to feel it. Hot and sticky all over me. All over us.”

“Oh God!” Logan rammed up, slamming their hips together.

Tate started to pump into him, and he felt his balls tingle, threatening to explode on every downward glide, while Logan’s fingers grabbed his hips, pulling him closer against his needy body.

“So good, Tate. So, very fucking good.” Logan praised as his body tensed under him, and his hips pushed up. A throaty growl left Logan, and the veins in his neck pulsated as he arched back in an explosive release, and the sight was enough to make Tate want to come. As Logan came down from his high, his eyes opened, languid and full of desire, and his mouth curled as Tate quickly pulled out of him and rolled the condom off his body. Tate grabbed the lube and poured some into his hand as he kneeled between Logan’s legs, running his gaze over the other man.

Logan licked his lips and started to run his fingers through the sticky mess on his stomach as he murmured, “Perfect, sexy Tate. First time I saw you, I wanted you under me. Are you ever going to let me have you?”

Tate felt his breath coming fast at the thought of what Logan was proposing, but he was beyond talking now. As he continued pumping his cock furiously, Logan quickly sat up and kneeled in front of him. Reaching down between them, Logan took him in his strong hand now covered in his own cum.

Pressing his lips against Tate’s, Logan promised, “I want to lay you on your back and kiss and lick every inch of your body, and then, Tate…” He paused, biting Tate’s lip. “I’m going to take you, and you’re going to love it.”

Just like that, Tate came all over the both of them with a shout and a sharp punch of his hips with no other thoughts except how amazing his orgasm was and how much he wanted Logan to take him that way. He could feel Logan’s hand soothing his sensitive skin as his lips kissed and sucked their way down his neck.

Tate almost whimpered when Logan let go, and he raised his hand to Logan’s cheek where he leaned in and kissed him.

When Tate finally pulled his mouth back, Logan whispered, “Stay?”

“Yes,” Tate replied easily.

“Good. I want you to stay.”

Tate leaned in again and gently pressed his mouth to Logan’s. “Then, I’ll stay.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The following morning, as they stood outside of The Daily Grind, Logan looked over to where Tate was leaning back with one of his feet propped up against the brick wall and a cigarette in his hand.

Usually, this kind of thing did nothing for him, but as Logan moved in beside Tate, he had to admit the look Tate had going reminded him a little of James Dean, and it was flat-out sex.

The white shirt, jacket, and jeans—not to mention, the black steel-toed boots—with the wind-ruffled curls all meshed together in just the right way to make Logan’s palms itch to touch. Logan squinted against the rising sun as Tate glanced over to him and lifted his hand to take a drag of the nearly finished cigarette.

“Quit it, would you?” Logan ordered at the thorough once-over Tate gave him.

“Quit, what?”

Logan aimed his eyes at the lips surrounding the tobacco stick. “Staring at me like you just spent the night, naked, in my bed.”

“But I did. I hardly think it’s making you uncomfortable,” Tate stated, lowering his arm, as he straightened off the wall.

“Trust me, uncomfortable is not what it’s making me feel.”

“Mhmm, and since when has that bothered you?”

“Since I’m out on a public street and can’t rectify the issue,” Logan pointed out.

“So, I shouldn’t tell you that you in that suit makes me really fucking excited? I’ve never dated anyone who wears a suit. Well, I’ve never dated a guy, so—”

“Tate?” Logan interrupted shifting his briefcase in front of him to hide the erection he could feel swelling even further between his legs.

“Yeah?”

“Stop it.”

Tate laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort, as he turned to press the butt of his cigarette into the tall, cylindrical black ashtray by the door.

“No, I don’t think I will. I had to deal with this shit from you for a week before you finally told me what the hell you were looking at.”

Logan stepped around him and pushed his face in close to Tate’s. “I thought I was more than obvious. I was looking at you. And by the way, why are you smoking again? Stressed? Nervous?”

Tate arched a brow and offered a roguish grin. “How about satisfied?”

Rolling his eyes, Logan reached out and pulled the door open to the coffee shop. As the smell of ground beans reached him, he watched Tate maneuver his way through the people waiting to take a spot at the back of the shortest line. Following his lead, Logan moved in beside him and then reached down between them and slid his palm into the one by Tate’s side.

Tate turned toward him, and Logan made sure he was staring right back with a neutral expression. When Tate’s fingers parted slightly and entwined with his own, as they had last night, Logan couldn’t help the way his heartbeat nearly flew out of his chest. Tate winked at him and went back to facing the front, and Logan found it almost laughable that he was the one standing there with a shocked look on his face.

Pulling his shit together, he leaned in, so their shoulders bumped, and he whispered, “You look good in my jeans. I especially like that you aren’t wearing anything under them.”

Without even turning, Tate chuckled as he continued to scan the chalk-written menu. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”

“What?” Logan protested with his eyes on the strong side profile Tate’s jaw presented.

Tate turned to him as they shuffled forward in the line. “That right there.”

“What? I was just making a comment.”

Shaking his head, Tate moistened his lip with his tongue. “You never just make a comment.”

“I don’t?”

“No. You make suggestions, or you turn things into an invitation.”

Logan shifted where he stood, very aware of the heat of Tate’s body and the hand in his own, as he turned back to look at the menu even though what he wanted was standing right beside him.

“Maybe that’s just what you hear,” he added quietly.

He was shocked to feel a set of warm lips by his ear as Tate told him, “That’s what you want me to hear.”

Logan faced him with only a slither of space between them and admitted, “Damn right, that’s what I want you to hear. And it’s still what I want, every minute I’m with you.”

Silence slipped between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in any way. Logan wanted to call Cole and tell him he was taking the rest of the week off, and then he’d convince Tate to do the same, but really, there was no need. It wasn’t as if they only had two weeks to work this out. They had as long as they wanted, they had forever if need be.

Wait—damn, that’s exactly what we have, Logan thought as he turned back to face the front, and once again, they moved farther up the line.

“So, I’m meeting with Diana and your brother today. Finally, all of this shit will be over,” Tate told him.

As Tate’s words interrupted his current train of thought, Logan blinked several times and tried to refocus. “Oh, that’s bound to be fun,” he answered absentmindedly.

“Yeah, I’m sure. A root canal would be more exciting.”

Logan didn’t mean to ignore Tate, but he found himself standing there, trying to imagine how to ask Tate if he were interested in—

What exactly?

Yeah, Tate had expressed that he was feeling things that were more than just sex—feelings that were strong, that would terrify him—

But did he mean this? Forever?

Because this, this was terrifying him.

* * *

Tate continued watching Logan, as he seemed to zone out on him. He knew that he was teasing him with every move and word that had come out of his mouth, and Tate loved it. Logan’s reactions to him solidified that what they were doing was right. Logan was feeling the exact same way he was, and that was the kind of reassurance Tate craved to move forward with their relationship.

This morning, Logan looked exactly as a high-paid lawyer should, all suited up. It wasn’t as though Tate hadn’t seen him dressed this way several times before, but this time was different. This time, he’d sat and watched as Logan had dressed.

Oh yeah, I like my choice of lover, Tate thought as he continued studying the man who had gone from seductively playful to pensive. Lover? Yes, that is exactly who Logan is to me now.

“What’s on your mind? You seem very serious all of a sudden.”

Logan turned and acted affronted. “I can be serious on occasion, you know.”

“Really? Have to say, it must be a rare event. Actually, I’d love to see you in court. I think that would be a total turn-on.”

Logan laughed and told him flat out, “No way in hell are you going anywhere near a courtroom that I’m supposed to be in.”

“Why?”

“Because you step into a room, and everyone else disappears.”

Tate caught the expression of shock that had crossed Logan’s face at his own admission, and he jumped right on it. “So, right now, here in the coffee shop, it’s just me, huh?”

When the person in front of them moved aside, they both turned back to the front, and Tate smiled as he looked at the back of the barista. That was, until he turned. Tate almost groaned at his luck, because right there, standing in front of them, was Robbie—the same guy that he and Logan had run into the last time they were in here, the same guy that Logan had admitted to being with. As Tate glared at the man, he felt Logan’s hand squeeze his own.

Tate turned to Logan, and he realized he was still wearing his scowl as Logan’s eyes widened as if to say, Is this a problem?

And is it?

Not really.

He was the one holding Logan’s hand. He was the one who’d been in his bed last night. As he turned back to face Robbie, Tate took a second to check him out, only to see if Robbie had something that he didn’t—

Right?

“Hey Logan, and, Tate, isn’t it?”

Tate was surprised that the guy remembered his name. He was about to say something caustic when Robbie continued, “I see you’re both back in here again together.”

“Robbie, come on, can we just order?” Logan replied just as Tate stated dryly,

“Good to see there’s nothing wrong with your eyes.”

When the guy started laughing, Tate wasn’t sure what the hell to think.

“Oh, he’s touchy, isn’t he?”

That question was definitely directed at Logan, and before he could answer, Tate snapped, “No. He just wants to order a coffee.”

Robbie rested his hip up against the counter and leaned over, so he was slightly closer to them both. “That’s fine. I can help you with that. But while you’re both here, let’s chat.”

“Let’s not,” Tate fired back as Logan groaned out, “Robbie.”

“Oh, come on. That’s no way to talk to a friend.”

Jesus, this guy just doesn’t know when to quit, Tate thought as he looked from Logan, who shrugged and rolled his eyes, and then back to Robbie, who was beaming at him as he chatted casually almost as though they had all been doing this for years instead of…never.

“You’re not his usual type, you know.”

“Robbie, just take our fucking orders, would you?” Logan suggested as he released Tate’s hand to press his thumb and index finger to his forehead.

“What? It’s true.”

Knowing who he meant but not quite what, Tate managed, as politely as he could, to ask the question pounding in his brain, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re nothing like me, are you?”

He was definitely nothing like him. Robbie was shorter to start with, probably around five-ten, and had blond highlights throughout his hair, which was slightly longer in the front and swept to the side. Down the side of his neck was a tattoo of some kind that snaked into his black polo shirt, and in each ear, he had black gauges. He was also wearing—

Is that eyeliner?

He looked like a runaway from a punk band.

And he is criticizing me?

Without taking his eyes off Robbie, Tate asked, “So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means nothing. He’s talking out of his ass,” Logan interjected.

But it was too late. Tate wasn’t paying attention to Logan, and Robbie was having too much fun messing with the both of them.

Robbie straightened and shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. Just that, usually, he goes female or, you know, my kind. You…you’re…well—”

“Well, what?” Tate demanded, and felt Logan grab his hand.

Not realizing quite how loud he had spoken, it wasn’t until the woman in the line beside them turned their way with a frown, that Tate mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Well, you’re like him. Big, tall…” Robbie joked, lowering his voice to a false baritone as he turned to Logan, and then Tate before trailing off. He seemed to be concentrating on something very important, then whispered, “And really sexy. I bet you two look so damn hot when you get together. Who tops?”

Tate almost choked as he heard Logan mumble, “Oh fuck,” beside him.

“Jesus,” Tate cursed. “No wonder you two get along. You have no filter either.”

Robbie frowned at him and looked toward Logan, who was still muttering something under his breath. “What do you mean? Who has no filter?”

“Nothing, forget it,” Tate grumbled, irritated that he was slightly amused by the entire conversation.

“Okay,” Robbie answered with a quick grin and then asked again conspiratorially, “So, who tops? I can’t imagine Logan as anything else, but then—”

He was cut off by Logan’s phone that started ringing at that exact moment. Tate turned just as Logan looked down at the screen and then back at him. He indicated the waiting area behind them.

“I’ve got to take this. Will you be okay here?” He emphasized the word here as he glared at Robbie.

“I guess,” Tate answered with much more surliness than he knew he possessed.

“Okay, just black for me.”

Nodding, Tate watched him walk away and then turned back to face Robbie on his own.

“Can we just have our coffees?” Tate requested through clenched teeth, his jaw starting to ache.

“Well, you could, but…” Robbie drawled in a way that was more than a little obnoxious.

“But what?”

With a quick, flirty wink, Robbie shrugged. “You haven’t ordered yours yet.”

Tate lost all of his annoyance that quickly, and he found instead that he was laughing and shaking his head. Great, just what I need—to actually find him humorous instead of annoying.

“Okay, Robbie, you win. God, I need a coffee now more than ever. Can I have a hazelnut latte? And his espresso. To go.”

“Sure. Want me to bring it over?”

Tate looked at him in a way that screamed, Not if you value your life.

Robbie’s smile was full of mischief as he finally put Tate out of his misery. “Got it. It’ll be ready here in just a minute.”

* * *

Tate made his way over to where Logan was standing with the phone pressed to his ear. Just as he got to the table, he heard, “Sorry, hon. It just isn’t going to happen again.”

Frowning, Tate came to a standstill, and Logan glanced at him across the table that was between them.

“No, it was nothing you did.”

Logan’s tone and his words made it abundantly clear that he was not talking to a work colleague or a client. Tate was trying his hardest not to pay attention to his insecurities as they knocked on the door in his brain when Logan reached over and took his hand.

“Jess,” Logan said and paused.

Jess? Jess? That name is familiar, Tate thought as he stared at Logan.

“Look, since we last spoke, I started seeing someone.”

The bar. That was where he’d heard the name, back when they had first met. He remembered Logan on the phone with a Jess, promising to see her or him, without their clothes on.

“Yes. It was fun, but this is serious,” he told the person on the other end of the phone as he moved around the table toward Tate.

When Logan was beside him and their hips and arms were brushing, he looked right at him as he said clearly, “This is exactly what I want.”

Tate felt his body heat at the words as his heart skipped in his chest, and everything finally fell into place. He was so ready to be with Logan in every way, and if he hadn’t been sure before, this confirmed it.

“Good-bye, Jess,” Logan said, ending the call and then placing the phone down on the table where he twirled it slowly. “What have you done to me, Mr. Morrison? Turned me into some relationship guy?”

Tate focused on the man studying him from behind the thick black-rimmed glasses. “You didn’t really think this through, did you?” he asked Logan.

Logan looked at him with an expression that relayed the words he then spoke, “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

Tate leaned closer, so their faces were only inches apart, and he lowered his eyes to Logan’s mouth. “You never actually thought about what would happen if you finally got me to try what you wanted, did you? Did you actually believe that this wouldn’t turn into more? With this kind of heat?”

“Why should I have thought that? It never had before.”

Tate shifted his eyes back to Logan’s. “Yeah, but it wasn’t with me, was it? Have you ever stood in a coffee shop and wished that every single person in here would get out, so you could do exactly what’s on your mind?”

“Not until right this second. What’s on your mind?”

Tate looked around at everyone milling about, waiting on their drinks. “What you’ve always wanted—me under you. I’m ready to give it to you.”

Logan visibly swallowed. “You’re fucking trouble.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your own fault. Once I make up my mind, that’s it. You should probably remember that.”

“So,” Logan started and then cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject, “Robbie didn’t give you any more problems?”

“No, nothing other than that comment regarding your type and how I’m not it.”

Logan looked over his shoulder and glanced at the counter where Robbie was working, and when he turned back, he stepped in much closer than they had been before and placed a hand on Tate’s chest. Brushing his lips over his cheek, Logan told him, “He’s so very wrong.”

“Hmm, is he?” Tate questioned, openly enjoying Logan as he felt firm lips move up to his ear where Logan murmured, “Yes.”

Turning his head to Logan as though hypnotized, Tate heard his name called out to come and collect their coffees. He was sure his feet could take him to the counter, but they didn’t move him anywhere as he continued to stare at a grinning Logan.

“Better go get our drinks,” he teased as Tate finally stepped around him. “Oh, and by the way, Tate, so much better this time. You didn’t even flinch when I touched you.”

That smart-ass comment was all it took for his brain to kick in, just as Logan had known it would. Tate glared at him, flipped him off, and moved toward the counter.

Just as he got there, Logan called out to him, “I’ve got to take Cole’s call. This is the second one I’ve ignored this morning.”

Tate looked over his shoulder. “When was the first?”

Logan winked and laughed, leaving him to only imagine, as he walked toward the door. Tate turned back to the counter where Robbie stood, holding out their coffees, with a huge smile on his face that told Tate he’d been watching the entire interaction between Logan and himself.

“So, come on, tell me. Who tops?”

Tate held his hands out with a bored look on his face. He took the coffees and turned without saying one damn thing, but as he left to go and find where Logan was waiting on him, he realized he was happier than he had been in a long time.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Cole had been terse on the phone with him when Logan had finally called back. He was obviously still worked up about their argument. Logan knew that they needed to patch their shit up and soon. The problem was, neither of them was particularly good at saying sorry, and instead, they enjoyed avoiding one another more. Although, that was no longer an option since Tate’s soon-to-be-ex had shown up already for their nine o’clock meeting—at eight.

After he’d told Tate, Logan had heard him mutter something along the lines of, Fucking early as usual, and then they’d made their way over to the office. Logan figured the sooner this was over with, the better.

Having made good time, they moved into the elevator that would take them up to the offices, and he pressed the button for his floor. Logan stepped back to stand beside the man who had him hyperaware of every single move he made. Ever since Tate had dropped the bombshell that he was finally ready to let Logan be the one to do the taking—well, fuck—his brain hadn’t fully recovered.