Текст книги "Try: 1"

Автор книги: Ella Frank

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

* * *

While Tate stood there, seemingly trying to get his brain to catch up with his eager body, Logan took in all of his lean muscles and smooth, tanned torso. Mmm. Tate hardly had any body hair over his burnished brown skin, and Logan couldn’t wait to run his tongue all over it.

Deciding to play nice, Logan relented, “Okay, I’ll cut you some slack. Why don’t you tell me what else is bothering you?”

Logan hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t what he got.

“You, sleeping with everything that moves.” Tate moved cautiously around to the empty side of the bed.

Logan tried to concentrate, but all he kept coming back to was, Tate is standing here, naked in my bedroom.

 “Logan?” Tate waited for a response.

Turning on his side, Logan watched as Tate slowly placed a knee on the bed. “What?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Honestly? No.” Logan sat up, grabbed Tate’s hand, and tackled him down onto the bed until he was hovering over him.

“Mmm,” Logan half-groaned as he finally pressed his naked erection against Tate’s. “You’re worried about me with other people while I’m fucking you. Aw, I think you care, Mr. Morrison.”

“I think you mean while I’m fucking you. Don’t you?”

Logan became amused as Tate glared up at him, obviously aggravated he’d been overpowered, and even more so at Logan’s words.

It may have been crazy, but seeing Tate irritated was fast becoming one of Logan’s biggest turn-ons.

Placing his hands by Tate’s head, he lowered himself until he was by his ear. “Minor details.”

Tate turned his head on the pillow until their lips were only inches apart, and he released a low grunt as Logan rolled his hips over him.

“Important ones, wouldn’t you say?” Tate asked.

Logan flicked his tongue out, tracing it across Tate’s upper lip, and when they parted, he promised, “I know what we agreed to, and what you think you want. But I will end up inside you.” He emphasized exactly which part of him he was referring to, by flexing his hips against Tate. “And you’ll beg me to be there. I guarantee it.”

A hand slid up into Logan’s wet hair and palmed the back of his head as the other held his pumping hips, halting his moves.

“And everyone else?” Tate asked on a labored breath.

Logan noted with great interest that Tate hadn’t objected to what he’d just told him, and for the first time in his life, he answered, “Right now, there is nobody else.”

That seemed to be what Tate was waiting for because he pushed up and rolled Logan to his back where he waited for Tate’s next move.

Chapter Twelve

Tate stared down at the man whose naked body was perfectly aligned with his, wanting to look at all the muscles he was feeling. He also wanted to touch, and he was positive, while glancing at Logan’s full mouth, that he wanted to take a good, long taste as well.

Logan’s legs bent, and parted at the knees, so Tate took a moment to settle against the groin cradling him.

God, that feels really good.

It was so good that Tate nestled his hips against Logan’s shaft—only this time, harder.

Tate continued to test out the new sensation as Logan’s eyes slid closed, and his jaw clenched. Everything about this moment, with his new choice of bed partner, was so different, yet it was all essentially the same.

“Jesus, this…this feels fucking amazing.” Tate applied more pressure to the downward grind of his hips.

Blazing blue eyes opened to focus on him as Logan’s hands smoothed down his sides, causing Tate’s body to shudder.

Logan rose up from the mattress to press his lips to Tate’s ear. “We haven’t even gotten to the best parts yet,” he promised as he bit Tate’s lobe, pushed his hips up, and really started to move.

The guy’s hips were like a well-oiled machine. Not only did he press them firmly up against Tate’s, but Logan then also arched his body at an angle, gliding his steel-like length, firmly along the sensitive underside of his own. It was all done in the exact right way to make Tate’s eyes want to roll to the back of his fucking head.

With a strangled groan, Tate pulled back and shuffled down the bed a little, moving away from Logan. When he was kneeling between Logan’s legs, he took a long look at all that was spread out in front of him.

Logan’s feet remained planted on either side of him, and his erection pointed directly to the face that had first captured Tate’s attention. Tate trailed his eyes over the rigid abdomen until he reached that face where he found an expression of heated lust looking back at him, and immediately, Tate began fisting his own cock.

That was when he also discovered that being watched by Logan ramped up his urge to come by around one hundred notches.

“Come back down here,” Logan invited as his hands moved between his legs.

Tate’s fist tensed around himself when Logan dipped his hand down to cup his own sac while he pressed his other palm against his shaft.

“Not just yet. I’m getting used to this view,” Tate replied.

A grated curse left Logan’s mouth as he elevated his hips off the bed, allowing Tate a better view. “You’d enjoy it even more from down here.”

“I don’t know,” Tate pondered, watching Logan’s hand fondle the flesh he was cradling. “This is working pretty good for me.”

“Well, do you at least want some lube? It’d make things…easier.” Logan teased his bottom lip with his tongue.

Nodding, Tate was almost disappointed when Logan had to stop what he had been doing as he rolled to his side, opened a drawer in the nightstand, and grabbed a small black bottle. Instead of handing it over, Logan kneeled in front of him and looked him in the eye. As the bottle was undone, Tate stopped moving.

And Logan told him, “Let me.”

* * *

Logan poured some of the cool liquid into his palm and shuffled in closer. “Here, let me.”

Tate slowly let go of his straining erection.

Logan clasped the back of Tate’s neck, drawing him in to take his lips. This time, there was absolutely no hesitation in the way Tate opened his mouth, or grasped his shoulders to steady himself while he granted the access Logan was demanding of him. Dipping his tongue inside the heat of Tate’s mouth, Logan moved his hand forward and wrapped a firm fist around the base of him.

“Logan,” Tate groaned, wrenching his head back as his eyes shut and his teeth came down to sink into his lower lip.

Logan stroked his slippery palm up Tate’s engorged length, watching his face go from sexual torment to one of pure, unadulterated lust while his hips moved, driving his cock through Logan’s fist.

“Open your eyes,” Logan demanded as he continued to pump his hand up and down.

When Tate obeyed, and met Logan’s stare, he could tell that Tate had finally let go of all thoughts and was just feeling in this moment.

“Good?”

“Fuck yes,” Tate rasped, right before he cupped Logan’s face and tackled him backward onto the bed.

When Logan’s back hit the mattress, he managed to get his legs out from under him and parted enough before Tate landed back between them. Raising his knees on either side, he tightened them at Tate’s waist while he continued to stroke the pulsating hardness in his hand.

Logan could feel his own cock restricted between their bodies as Tate took his mouth in a rough kiss, and his hips rocked forward on top of him. As a greedy tongue shoved between his lips to tangle with his own, Logan released his hold and shifted positions, so his own shaft came into direct contact with Tate’s.

Just as he was about to encircle them together in his hand, Tate lifted his mouth and pinned him with a stare.

“Why’d you stop?”

Logan wrapped his palm around them both, groaning as he gave a solid squeeze of his fist, and he was satisfied only when he heard a similar noise leave Tate.

“I wanted to give you your first cock rub, or as it’s sometimes referred to, and my personal favorite, an Ivy League rub. You don’t mind, do you?” Logan asked the inquisitive man above him.

Arching his pelvis, Logan pushed through his palm, creating a hot friction against Tate’s sensitive erection.

“Oh, holy shit,” Tate cursed out on a sharp breath.

“My sentiments exactly,” Logan agreed and craned up to press his lips to Tate’s. “Now, stick your tongue in my mouth and feel me.”

* * *

Tate had no problem with that. Pressing his mouth to Logan’s, he plunged his tongue between the lips that had been driving him crazy since they’d first met as the raw pleasure of his first—What did Logan call it? Ivy League rub? Of course, it sounds pretentious—flooded through him.

Tate really wanted to see what was going on between his legs. “I want to…”

“You want to what?”

“I want to watch what you’re doing to me.” Tate emphasized by propelling his hips forward.

The fist around him disappeared, and he was rolled onto his back, a position he wasn’t quite comfortable with yet in the presence of—well, this man.

“Um…”

“Relax, Tate.” Logan lay on his side, angled toward him, smoothing his hand over and around Tate’s eager cock. “Now, roll this way, would you? And turn your fucking brain off.”

Tate did as he was told and turned to face Logan with a scowl.

“I should tell you, that expression on your face? It doesn’t upset me. It just turns me on even more.”

“Fuck you,” Tate groused, feeling the hand around him tug hard enough to make him grit his teeth and hiss.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that just yet?”

Tate, determined not to be provoked, slid his fingers into Logan’s black hair and took a firm hold until he saw Logan wince. Pulling him the short distance between them, Tate told him, “Probably not, but maybe a good fucking would finally shut your goddamn mouth.”

The palm around him stroked over his aroused flesh, and Tate angled his hips toward it, watching as a depraved smile spread across the lips only inches from him.

“You’re welcome to try, but unless something’s shoved in my mouth, I have to tell you, it’s next to impossible to ever shut me up.”

Tate decided to ignore that comment, and instead, he dropped his gaze down between them, prompting Logan to follow suit. The sight that greeted Tate took his breath away as much from the unfamiliarity of what he was seeing as the wonderfully salacious feelings he was experiencing.

Both of their engorged cocks were lined up against one another, dripping with excitement, and as Logan’s hand clasped them both, Tate couldn’t resist wrapping his own palm over the top.

Fascinated at what he was witnessing, Tate watched avidly as Logan’s slightly longer shaft glided up against his and poked out from where their hands ended, rubbing against his own aching erection. As a rasping breath was torn from Tate’s throat, Logan’s free hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him forward.

“Seen enough?”

Tate glanced back to Logan, “Why?”

“Because I really want to come all over you.”

Tate’s breathing faltered at the thought, and he stilled Logan’s hand. “What should I do?”

Logan leaned in, kissing him quickly. “Whatever feels good.”

Tumbling to his back, Tate forgot his aversion to the position as he brought Logan up over him, stretching out, so their bodies were touching from chest to toe. When Logan’s hand left him, Tate moaned from the loss until it came up to rest by his head, and Logan started to thrust against him in earnest.

Tate didn’t know how he felt in that wholly defining moment.

As he lay beneath Logan, he concentrated on the hot ache between his legs and the amazing pressure Logan was grinding down onto his shaft, with every perfect stroke. At the same time, Tate was clinging to two strong arms supporting a man who was currently undulating his entire body against him.

That was when he realized that Logan was dominating him. Logan was clearly the one in control in this position. It was a position that Tate usually used with women, and as he focused on Logan licking that sexy lip of his, Tate admitted to himself, I fucking love it.

Tate pressed his head back into the pillow and bent his legs as Logan had earlier, so he could lift himself up to receive more of the full-bodied massage Logan was giving to him.

Over and over, Logan’s brawny frame stroked his as Tate registered all the differences about him—the hair on his body, the power in his thighs, and the cut muscles of the abdomen– moving against his own. The moment was almost surreal. Reaching for a way to anchor himself to reality, Tate stretched his hand up to touch the coarse hair lining Logan’s chiseled jaw.

He was in bed with a man and not just any man. Logan Mitchell, who was about as manly as Tate could find—

Does that bother me? No, Tate discovered, it really fucking doesn’t.

* * *

While Logan looked down at Tate, and continued his sensual assault, he noticed something in his eyes change. The hand on his jaw moved toward his hair, and Tate took his mouth in a savage kiss, finally enjoying the full strength and power humming between them.

Logan returned the kiss equally as hungry, nipping at the lips under his before sliding his tongue inside to twist with the eager one that met him. With a stifled groan, Logan inched his way down Tate’s body and kissed the guy’s chest. Giving one of his nipples a quick lick, Logan continued his trail down to suck and taste the heated skin of Tate’s ribs, navel, and finally his abs, just as he’d been fantasizing about.

Looking up at Tate from where he was now situated down between his thighs, Logan could feel the other man’s erection pressing against his collarbone while his own was trapped firmly against the mattress, and all he could think was, What a lucky bastard I am to have him in my bed.

* * *

Raising his head off the pillow, Tate peered down his body at Logan. The guy was running his tongue all over the muscles of his stomach, and occasionally dipping it inside his navel. Staring at his erection pressed up against Logan’s chest, he thought, What a turn-on to see him using that mouth on me.

A rumbled moan escaped from within, as Tate let his head fall back to the pillow, and a case of nerves kicked in. Logan’s arms moved under his bent legs, and as his body was lifted off the mattress, Tate felt the tongue that had just been flirting with his navel lick up the underside of his shaft.

“Yes,” he hissed out on a shaky breath.

With one hand, Tate reached down to grip the base of his cock, and pushed it up for Logan’s insatiable mouth. Tate watched eagerly, as Logan glanced up at him and seductively swiped his tongue across the head and slit of his cock.

“Oh, fucking hell. Your mouth is a goddamn menace.”

As the words left Tate’s lips, Logan removed his mouth and hands and crawled up his body until he was back between Tate’s thighs, and then Logan’s mouth was kissing the hell out of him.

Tate felt a hand in his hair as their shafts became reacquainted in a deliciously hard and sticky slide. He held Logan’s head with one hand and moved his other to his ass, and all Tate could think was, I want him closer. Digging his fingers into the firm ass cheek under his palm, he pulled Logan as near as he could get him.

Oh, would you look at that?

Tate’s fingers clenched into the solid muscle again, and Logan’s hips slammed into his.

He likes that.

And just as Tate thought it, Logan tore his mouth away.

* * *

“Do that again,” Logan requested on a harsh rush of air.

When Tate’s fingers curled over his ass cheek, he’d thought that would be it. Just the fact that Tate was anywhere near his ass was getting him beyond excited—

And that he did it himself without me having to ask? Even better.

It had first happened in the bathroom, but he’d chalked that up to Tate being in shock from all the nudity—

Apparently not.

“You mean this?” Tate inquired, as he squeezed Logan’s ass again.

Yes, you tease.

Logan let out a shaky laugh. “You’re a cocktease, Tate Morrison. Who would have known?”

Logan was stunned that Tate was comfortable enough to laugh, and—ah, fuck yeah—grab his ass with both hands.

“Now, that’s something I’ve never been accused of before.”

“What? Being a tease?”

Tate brought his head up and kissed him quickly before whispering against his mouth, “No. Being a cocktease.” He emphasized with a quick jab of his hips against Logan’s.

Bracing his palms on either side of Tate, Logan watched him slowly lower his head back to the pillow as he continued to knead his ass.

“But you have been called a tease?”

Tate gave him an arrogant look he’d never seen before.

“I prefer to call it foreplay.”

Logan shook his head and nudged his body against the groin cradling his not-so-patient erection. “I call it torture.”

“Ah, don’t lie,” Tate admonished with the same shit-eating expression. “You like me playing with your ass. Every time I do, you buck your hips against me like you wish you were inside me.”

Logan cursed loudly as Tate traced a curious finger across the top curve of his ass cheek, stopping at the base of his tailbone, hovering directly over the start of his crack.

 “You’re playing with fire,” Logan warned the daring man under him.

“Am I?”

“Yes. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you like to tease and talk dirty.”

 Tate’s sneaky finger drew flirty tiny circles over his tailbone. He was totally caught in the moment, aroused, and ready to try anything.

“Tate?” Logan asked in a voice that sounded as though he’d swallowed gravel.

“Yeah?” Tate’s curious gaze focused on him.

“Give me your left hand.”

Logan wasn’t sure that he would, but apparently, the time for hesitation was over. Tate wanted this as much as he did. He raised his left hand, and Logan took it, bringing it to his lips where he sucked the two middle fingers into his mouth.

As he stared down at the man beneath him, with the messy curls and the fiery eyes, Logan swirled his tongue along the long digits until they were wet, and Tate’s body was now writhing under his own.

When he released them, Tate’s arm fell down to his side.

Logan lowered himself over him and whispered, “Now, stop being a fucking tease, and slide your fingers in my ass where I really want them.”

Logan immediately felt the chest beneath him rise and fall rapidly against his own.

Tate turned his head on the pillow. “I don’t know…what if I hurt you?”

Logan licked the corner of Tate’s mouth. “You won’t, but if you do, I just might like it.”

* * *

Tate wasn’t so sure about this. In the back of his mind, he’d known this would eventually come around, but he also had no clue what he was doing. He’d played with Diana a couple of times, but she’d never really liked it.

Moving his hand to the curve of Logan’s ass, he took a moment to knead the firm flesh. The thrill he got from the satisfied sound escaping Logan’s throat prompted him to act and push past any doubts he was having.

With both hands, Tate started to really put his whole effort into giving Logan what he wanted. Legs bent and raised, Tate curved up against the man above him, making sure they were fused at every conceivable point. As Tate did that, his mouth was busy being destroyed by a ravenous Logan, who was driving his groin across Tate’s with a momentum that was quickly making him lose focus.

Slipping his wet fingers to the warm crease of Logan’s ass, he separated one firm cheek from the other and heard a moan leave the chest that was now resting against his.

“Jesus, I knew getting you here would make me crazy. But you haven’t even really touched me, and I’m hornier than I’ve ever been.”

Tate took that moment to start teasing the soft, narrow channel between Logan’s cheeks.

“I’m touching you now.” He slowly pushed the tip of his fingers against the taut skin.

“You’re fucking with me,” Logan accused, his body tensing.

“No, I’m not. Well, maybe a little, but I’m learning.” Tate moved his hand farther down until he was rubbing the pad of his fingers against the tightly puckered hole.

Logan began pushing his hips back toward them.

“So, am I doing this right?”

“Yes,” Logan grunted.

Tate eased the tip of his finger past the sensitive ring of nerves, breaching it to his first knuckle.

“Ah, Tate. Fuck,” Logan cursed.

Tate clenched his right hand against the ass cheek he was holding, and was about to ask if he was okay.

Until Logan grounded out, “More.”

* * *

 As the word left Logan’s mouth, Tate’s finger slid deeper inside him and—ah, holy…yes—the guy did it slowly. He could feel the sticky trail their pre-cum had left as Logan slid himself up and down Tate’s abdomen.

His ass clenched around the intruding finger as it started to pull out, and just when he thought Tate would remove it altogether, the guy reversed his momentum, and this time, he pushed his finger back in with much more force than at first. With a loud hiss, Logan looked down at the face staring up at him intently. With his mouth opened and eyes wide with lustful curiosity, Tate was undeniably sexy, and Logan felt his balls start to tingle.

He finally had Tate in his bed. He had Tate, in his bed, underneath him, and Tate had his finger inside him. It was a miracle they’d even gotten this far, and by the hungry look Tate was aiming up at him, Logan didn’t think he was going anywhere anytime soon.

Lowering his mouth, he took Tate’s with his own as Logan reached down between them and curled his fingers around Tate’s erection and began to work him.

Hell yeah, my life’s sweet. My hand is wrapped around Tate, and Tate’s finger is gloriously fucking me.

Logan couldn’t think of anything better right at that moment until the single finger inside him was removed, and he felt two timidly probing against his hole. When he locked his eyes on Tate’s, Logan thrust backward toward them.

Greedily, Logan’s body chased after what it wanted, and as Tate’s thick fingers slid roughly into his narrow channel, Logan watched the other man’s shock and pleasure at the new power he now held.

“God, your ass is so tight inside. How will I even fit in there?”

“Jesus,” Logan swore and felt his climax threatening at the base of his spine.

“Do you like it when I do this?”

Tate widened his fingers inside him, and Logan almost lost it.

He wished he had time to let Tate really experiment and wriggle those long fingers around, but—

Fuck me. I don’t have the goddamn patience.

The thought of Tate stretching him, so Tate could slide his iron-hard cock into his ass was all too much for Logan to take.

Unable to answer, Logan concentrated on the slight burn inside him as Tate continued to palm his ass with one hand, and move the fingers of his other. Logan looked right back at the man and bared his teeth in a snarl before closing his eyes and arching forward. Shouting out Tate’s name, his fist clasped the man’s erection, and Logan felt his internal muscles clench around the two invading fingers as he finally came on a loud roar.

Shooting jets of sticky, warm come all over Tate’s abdomen, Logan let out a long satisfied sigh as Tate punched his own hips forward through Logan’s hand and called out his name. That was when he got to watch Tate’s powerful climax as he came on a curse and a prayer all over him, and the sexy treasure trail Logan was once again fantasizing about licking.

Especially now while it’s covered with both of our come.

Panting as if they had both just run for their lives, they stared unblinkingly at one another. Hands, fingers, and eyes were all still connected. Reluctantly, Logan removed his hand from around Tate, and drew his fingers over the line of hair that was now sticky with their pent-up frustration, and Tate started to laugh.

Logan glanced at him as he felt the thick fingers inside his body slowly withdraw.

“Jesus, Tate,” Logan mumbled as they came free. “Something amusing?”

Tate placed his hands behind his head. “No. I was just thinking about how my whole life just changed because I enjoy having your tongue in my mouth, and my fingers in your ass.”

Logan tried to control his own amusement, but really, the serious tone in which that had been delivered followed by the ironic brow Tate raised as he turned his head on the pillow was too fucking much.

“Well, I hate to be the one to say I told you so.”

“Then, don’t,” Tate suggested, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.

Logan moved up on his elbow beside him and looked down with a wiry smile. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Good. Because I hate know-it-alls who brag.”

“Well, shit, you’re going to hate me then.”

Logan didn’t really mean it, he hoped, but when Tate’s eyes met his, he wondered for a minute how he would feel if he ever did end up making Tate hate him.

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

At that ambiguous comment, Logan pushed, “What’s that mean?”

“It means just that—we will see.”

“As in, you’re going to see me again?”

Rolling in toward him, Tate took Logan’s lips with his own and kissed him. It was chaste but lingering, and as it ended, Tate smiled.

“You make me hard as soon as I think about you. I need to know if there’s more to it. I want to know why I respond the way I do with you. If it’s just the way you look…”

“You like how I look?”

“Shut up. You know everyone wants you. I guess I’m no different.”

Logan ran a finger across Tate’s smooth chest to his nipple, where he circled it. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Tate’s hand pressed Logan’s flat over his chest. “And why’s that?”

Logan wanted to tell him that he’d never wanted or pursued anyone as hard as him. He’d also never agreed to wait and go at any other speed than full throttle.

But as he looked at Tate, who was now staring at him, waiting with an I’m-not-going-to-believe-you look on his face, Logan ended with, “You just are,” and then he told himself to be satisfied with the nod Tate gave him as he shifted and got out of the bed.

“Mind if I have that shower now?”

“Not at all,” Logan told him.

Tate moved away from the bed. When he was almost at the bathroom door, Logan called out his name. Tate stopped and turned around, once again displaying that sexy, lean body, now covered with their come, and Logan felt the stirrings of desire in the root of his shaft.

“Yes?”

“How much did you like it?” he asked, even though he knew it was completely egotistical.

But when Tate’s body responded, he was glad he’d asked.

“Enough that I’m thinking about it right now and wanting to do it again. Will that do?”

Logan widened his legs provocatively, and Tate’s eyes dropped to watch.

“That’s perfect. Now, go take your shower before I forget you are new to all of this.”

“I’m hardly a virgin.”

Putting one arm behind his head and continuing to casually touch himself, Logan replied with a wink, “You are where I want to go. Now, go take a shower, Tate. You’re too tempting right now, and I’m too horny.”

Raising his palms, Tate backed into the shower, as he replied, “Okay. I’m going, I’m going,” and then he firmly shut the door.

Chapter Thirteen

Tate calculated that he’d been staring at the ceiling for a little over six hours, and it still was not producing any answers to his questions. First and foremost being, What am I supposed to do now?

Last night seemed so long ago, but every time he shut his eyes, he could see and feel all the things that had happened as if Logan were still lying beside him. He wasn’t, of course, because Tate had left him back in his condo as soon as he’d been done in the shower.

He figured he’d held it altogether pretty well, casually strolling out of Logan’s place as though he made out with men daily. But really, somewhere halfway through his shower, Tate had started to question everything he’d done since walking through Logan’s front door only hours earlier.

Rolling over onto his side, Tate spotted the jacket thrown over the chair in the corner of his room and was immediately pulled back to the night before.

* * *

“You sure you won’t just stay?” Logan asked as they made their way to his front door.

Tate shrugged into his leather jacket and took the helmet from Logan as they stopped in the entryway.

“Nah, I think I should go.” Tate turned toward the door and reached for the handle.

“Tate?”

Looking back over his shoulder, Tate saw something he’d not yet seen in Logan—concern.

“You okay?”

Am I? Probably not.

Making his way over to stand in front of Logan, Tate searched his face, trying to decide if anything about it would turn him off.

He came up with nothing.

“I’m fine.”

“Just fine?” Logan questioned mindfully.

It was as if Logan could sense a change in Tate since before and after the shower.

“I just need some time to—”

“Worry? Convince yourself that this was all wrong?”

Stepping forward, Tate braced his left hand on the wall beside Logan’s head. “I need to think, to process all of this.”

“To freak out.”

“Shut up.”

Logan’s gaze held firm as he assured, “It’s okay to question things.”

“I’m not.”

“Not even a little?” Logan joked. Taking the sides of Tate’s jacket and tugging him close, Logan flicked the side of Tate’s mouth with the tip of his tongue. “I am.”

“Liar.” Tate slid his own tongue along that bottom lip he was fascinated with.

“I thought you were leaving?” Logan reminded.

“I am.” Tate nibbled the top of Logan’s mouth as he pushed his hips into him.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Lifting his lips, Tate pointed out, “That’s because you’re hanging on to me.”

“Well, your mouth was kind of molesting mine.”

Tate took his hand from the wall, bringing it down to cover Logan’s right fist. “I just need some time to think, okay?”

“Okay.” Logan released his hold on the leather. “But not too long. Tomorrow, lunch. It’s your day off, right?”

“You memorized my schedule? How sweet.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already told me I wasn’t ready for that, so keep your offers to yourself.”

“So, it’s an offer now? Not a threat? Look at you, warming to the idea. That makes me fucking hard.”

Tate shook his head and stepped away to walk back to the door. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Give you an inch…”

“And I’ll want six or seven more,” Logan called back.

“Jesus.” Tate laughed as he opened the door and left, knowing that he would be at lunch the next day. He just wasn’t sure what would happen after that.

* * *

Grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand, Tate opened his contacts, found Logan’s number, and decided a text would be better than dealing with Logan’s smart mouth this early. Punching in—Morning—he hit Send and wondered how quick of a response he would get. It was almost immediate.