Try (Temptation Series) (15 page)

“Want something, Tate?” Logan stopped moving his hand altogether.

Tate nudged his hips up into the hold Logan had on him, but the man was not budging.

“I asked you a question. Do you want something?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. What do you want? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

Tate’s mind went into overdrive at the sexual promise.

“Just open your mouth and say, Logan, I want you to…”

Tate bit down on his own lip and squirmed slightly at the first thought that popped into his head. That was when Logan’s expression went from patiently waiting to blazing inferno as he looked at the hard-on in his hand.

“Damn Tate, something just got you extra excited. I swear to God your cock just grew an inch. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

That mouth of Logan’s was going to get him every fucking time. Not only was it dirty, it was sexy, and it drove Tate right over the edge of his sanity and into the most dangerous of waters.

Ever since he’d met Logan, he’d wanted him to shut his mouth, punch him in it, or dive inside for a taste—and right this second was no different. All Tate could think about was pushing what was in Logan’s fist between those smart-ass, arrogant lips and making the guy shut up by sucking his dick. But thinking it and asking for it were two totally different things. So, he remained stubbornly silent as Logan continued to hold him captive with his warm palm and his taunting stare.

“Do you want me to stop?” Logan asked.

Tate shook his head as Logan crowded down over him and braced his free hand on the armrest. He could feel Logan’s breath in a hot sigh by his ear as he stroked his fist up Tate’s length in a slow, torturous pull.

 And then, Logan asked exactly the right question, “Do you want me to suck your cock, Tate?”

Letting out a groan of pure frustration, Tate turned his head on the armrest, so he was nose-to-nose with Logan. As he stared into devilish blue eyes, his whole body vibrated against the couch.

And finally, Tate gave in. “Yes.”

* * *

Logan pressed a hard kiss to Tate’s mouth before he backed away and released his fist. Pushing off of Tate, Logan stood in front of him. “Sit up with your back against the couch.”

Tate shifted to a seated position, and spread his legs out in a straddle as far as his jeans would allow.

Oh hell
, was all Logan could think as Tate’s cock pointed proudly toward its owner. There was no need for it to worry. Logan knew exactly who it belonged to, and he wanted to make it his.

Dropping to his knees in front of Tate, Logan didn’t wait around as he pushed them apart and moved closer between. Tate was silent as he watched from above as though he were witnessing the act, not actually experiencing it.

But that is all about to change
, Logan decided with a smug grin.

He lowered his head to drag his tongue from the base of Tate’s erection right up to the very tip, and that was when Tate decided to join in on the action. A firm hand came up to grip Logan’s hair, and he winced at the force that was used. But as soon as the shock from having Logan’s mouth on him was over, Tate’s hold loosened, and Logan brought his hand up to smooth his palm across the muscular thigh beside him.

As he flicked his tongue around the broad plum-shaped head, he could taste the salty evidence of Tate’s arousal. Feeling his own erection pounding out a staccato rhythm, Logan decided now was not the time to play around and tease. That could happen later. Right now, there needed to be release, and it needed to be fast.

Spreading his palms out on Tate’s thighs, Logan smoothed his hands up until his thumbs were framing Tate’s pelvic bone, and he could cup the root of his agitated flesh. Logan lifted his head and made direct eye contact with the bewildered man above. With a wink at him, Logan then lowered his mouth to slide his lips down over Tate’s beautifully cut cock.

The harsh curse that pulled from Tate’s throat as he pushed into his mouth with more force was almost enough to make Logan come. The hands in his hair tightened as Logan started to drag his lips up the rigid length pumping in and out from his mouth.

Logan could hear Tate’s breathing pick up as his pace increased, and Logan found that he didn’t even need to employ skill this time around. Tate wanted something to fuck, and Logan’s mouth was the lucky winner. So, Logan held on to his thighs, opened his mouth, and let Tate shove in between his lips like they’d been doing this for years.

When Logan felt one of the hands at the side of his head come around to his cheek, he closed his eyes, enjoying the moment where rough fingers stroked the day-old growth. They then moved down to his chin where Tate tugged it between his thumb and index finger, signaling he wanted more of Logan’s mouth around him.

Opening his eyes and getting up high on his knees, Logan lifted his mouth off of Tate with a soft popping sound and curled his fingers around the glistening shaft, angling it straight up at him. Bending back down, Logan circled the tip of Tate with his tongue.

Concentrating on the sensitive glans, he heard Tate mutter a soft, “Fuck,” before Logan took him all the way to the back of his throat. With a slight grunt and cough, Logan slid his lips back up and waited for Tate to move. It didn’t take long.

Confident hands took Logan’s head and started to direct his mouth at the speed and pace Tate wanted. Methodically, he thrust between Logan’s lips, cursing and groaning with every gratifying entry and exit his cock made from Logan’s mouth, and when Logan moved a hand to cup Tate’s balls, he seemed to lose all finesse.

“Logan,” he warned grimly.

Logan’s fingers cradled and massaged the sensitive sac tucked up between Tate’s legs. Logan knew what was coming, and he wanted it. He craved every last drop of cum to hit his tongue and slide down his throat. Only then, would he know exactly what Tate Morrison tasted like.

Holding Tate’s leg with one hand, he gently squeezed the balls he was palming in the other, and he fastened his mouth around the intrusion shoving relentlessly down his throat. Logan closed his eyes as Tate pushed into his mouth for the final time, and then Tate let out the most satisfying shout Logan had ever heard as he came in a hot, sticky torrent down his throat.

* * *

Jesus H. Christ.

Tate was slumped back against the couch, trying to catch his breath, and staring at Logan, who was still kneeling between his legs. He couldn’t even think right now as Logan’s mouth left his sensitive flesh, and he sat back on his heels.

Logan’s sexy—not to mention, talented—mouth was now swollen from having been wrapped around him for the past several minutes.

Or was it more?
It’d seemed like a fucking eternity to him.

As Logan licked his lips like he’d just eaten the best meal in the world, it occurred to Tate that he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever swallowed. Diana had hated it, but Logan had refused to move away. In actuality, he’d sucked harder and faster until the end where he’d seemingly taken immense pleasure from swallowing everything Tate had given him.

“Um…” Tate reached a hand up to scrub it over his face.

That was when a low laugh hit his ears. Dropping his hand down, he quirked a brow at Logan, who was still on his knees, laughing.

“What?” Tate demanded.

“Nothing.”

That got him curious. As he looked down, he noticed that he needed to cover himself, and he found it interesting that it hadn’t even occurred to him. He just wanted to know what was so damn funny.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look like I sucked your brains out through your cock.”

Tate couldn’t disagree with that assessment one little bit. “You might have.”

The look Logan gave him was satisfied and smug, and at that moment, Tate realized that he hadn’t done anything for the guy in the last portion of the
initiate Tate program
. He hadn’t kissed him, touched him, or sucked him. He’d just sat on the couch and selfishly gotten a brain-destroying blow job.

Well, the guy did offer.

“Ah…sorry, I…you know, came before you—”

You lame ass
. Tate groaned, lifting his hips to pull his boxers and jeans up. Just as he had them back in place and covering his groin, he felt a hand on his and saw that Logan was touching him and giving him a look full of irony.

“You didn’t,” he said.

Tate didn’t understand at first until Logan looked down at himself and shrugged.

“I came in my pants, like a fucking high schooler.”

Tate couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the self-disgust he’d heard in Logan’s tone.

“Oh. Well, at least those were just your track pants.”

Logan’s brow rose. “I’ll have you know that these are Armani track pants.”

More at ease now, Tate sat forward until he was only an inch from Logan, and reached out to cup his face. Bringing Logan the rest of the way forward with a slight pull of his hands, Tate pressed their lips together and marveled at the rough texture of Logan’s cheeks.

“Huh,” Tate mused out loud, still running his palms over the coarse hair on Logan’s face.

When he pulled away, Logan frowned, and Tate wondered for a moment if he shouldn’t have done that.

Then, Logan’s mouth morphed into a smile. “So, what do you want to try next?”

Chapter Eleven

“I think we should have that talk now, don’t you?”

Letting his head fall back, Logan groaned. “If you insist. I, personally, think we should do something different altogether.”

“I’m sure you do,” Tate told him.

Logan looked at the man who’d completely surprised him in the last half hour and raised a questioning brow. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a shower.”

“Yeah, uh…that’s probably not a bad idea. Is there somewhere I could go to have a smoke first?”

Moving to his feet, Logan winced at the sticky condition in his pants
. High schooler was right.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come while still wearing his pants, but damn, Tate finally giving in and letting him suck on him had done it.

“You smoke?” Logan asked. “Ah, that’s what it is.” He thought about the faint taste of tobacco under the overpowering cinnamon as he made his way to the dark drapes behind the single recliner. “That’s a nasty habit, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Tate stood and pushed his hand into his back pocket, presumably to get out his pack of cigarettes. “I only smoke when I drink.”

As Logan pulled the curtain back, revealing the door to his balcony, he looked over to where Tate had moved around the couch. “But you’re not drinking.”

When Tate got to him, he brought the white pack up and tapped it against his palm before opening the flap. Bringing it to his mouth, he pulled out one of the white cylinders between his lips.

“No, I’m not,” he mumbled around the tip in his mouth. “But I just came from a guy giving me a blow job, so my nerves are shot to shit.” Fishing a blue lighter out of his jeans pocket, Tate gave him a wiry smirk. “Don’t judge me.”

Logan chuckled, holding up his palms. “I’m not. And for the record, this guy enjoyed giving you head. So, if you want to get used to it, just ask.”

Tate’s eyes moved to his mouth, and Logan knew he was remembering exactly how it had felt to have his cock sucked by him.

Unlocking the door, Logan pushed it open and felt the cool night air hit him as Tate made his way outside.

“I’m going to go and have that shower,” he said as he watched Tate lean against the railing, lighting his cigarette. “Unless, of course, you want me to wait, so you can join me?”

Logan paused as Tate looked back at him. The wind ruffled the loose hair around his face as he took a drag of the cigarette and then blew out the smoke.

What a turn-on
, Logan thought.

Watching Tate smoke might have just become a new fascination of his. The man looked striking, standing there with the city lights as his backdrop, and the smoke sensually curling away from him.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for…all of that just yet.”

As Logan raised one of his arms up and stretched it above his head against the doorjamb, he felt immense satisfaction from the way Tate’s eyes skidded down over his naked chest and abdomen.

“You sure about that?” Logan reached his free hand across his body to rub his shoulder.

Still looking back at him, Tate watched him like a dog eyeing a bone. It was obvious he liked what he was looking at, but at the same time, he still seemed to be holding back.

When it was clear that Tate wasn’t going to answer, Logan tried his name. “Tate?”

“Huh?” He brought the cigarette back to his lips.

“You sure you don’t want me to wait?”

As Tate took another long drag, he turned around completely, leaning back against the rail, as he unapologetically checked him out.

“You’re really good-looking. It pisses me off.”

Logan brought his arm down and leaned against the door. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you, minus the pissed-off part. Why does it annoy you?”

Shaking his head, almost as though he didn’t believe his own thoughts, Tate admitted, “Because you make me want to do things that I shouldn’t.”

Logan wanted to know
every little thing
Tate was thinking, but he also knew he desperately needed a shower. So, he walked forward to Tate, reached out, and took the cigarette from him. Bringing it to his own lips, he took a drag, and as he gave it back, he blew the smoke out just past Tate’s face.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to suck on what you were sucking. I’m going to go and take a shower. If you want one, the second bedroom has an en suite. Then, Tate?”

Tate was staring at him with unflinching focus, holding the cigarette down by his leg, forgotten.

“I want to know all the things you want to do but shouldn’t.”

Tate’s tongue came out to moisten his lips.

Logan couldn’t help himself as he added, “So, we can start crossing them off the list.”

With that parting comment and Tate’s long exhale, Logan turned and made his way back into his condo.