Try (Temptation Series) (16 page)

* * *

 As Logan disappeared inside, Tate turned back to face the lights of downtown Chicago, and he had to wonder for the millionth time,
What am I doing here with him?
But the answer was pretty obvious now—

Isn’t it?
Just say it. Just admit it out loud, and then maybe it will get easier.

“I’m sexually attracted to Logan Mitchell—a man,” he muttered into the quiet night.

Nope, that didn’t help.

He couldn’t seem to turn off his brain, and all Tate kept thinking about was what everyone in his life would think if they knew what had just happened here. Even more perplexing was the fact that he knew the shitstorm it would stir, but it wasn’t going to stop him from doing it all again.

Finishing his cigarette, Tate crouched down, pressed the butt to the concrete, and made his way inside to look for the garbage. As he stepped back into the living room, he looked at the couch where he and Logan had been earlier. Automatically, Tate was hit with a vision of everything that had taken place, and he realized that he wanted to go and find Logan.

Moving to the kitchen, he placed the butt in the sink, not wanting to snoop, and then he walked through the living room and down the hall to where he could hear the shower running.

Stopping outside the door, Tate thought about exactly what he wanted to happen here. He knew that going down this rabbit hole would turn his life completely upside down. Yet, even as he thought it, his feet were carrying him closer to the partially shut door.

Pushing it open, he stepped into the bedroom and took a moment to look around. It was full of dark mahogany wood and cream walls. Tate didn’t allow himself long to linger, knowing that if he did, he’d more than likely leave. So, instead, he made his way toward the open door where Logan’s track pants were on the floor.

Closing his eyes for a second, Tate told himself,
I can do this. Hell, I want to do this
, and moved farther into the humid bathroom. The shower was on the left side of the tiled room, and up against the right was a double vanity. He could hear the steady stream of water as he rested his ass up against the edge of the first sink, and he waited.

The glass door was shut and covered with steam, only allowing him a partial view of the man inside. As Tate leaned on the sink, he imagined what would happen when the door was pulled open, and his cock stiffened to full mast.

And that’s what it really comes down to,
he thought.
My cock wants Logan. I want Logan. Hell, standing here in the same bathroom, thinking about him naked, turns me on more than anything or anyone else.

Just as that thought slammed home with the force of a Mack truck, the water shut off, and the glass door slid open.

* * *

Logan had resisted the urge to spend too long under the warm spray, instead wanting to get out and find Tate—or more importantly, make sure that Tate hadn’t left. Lathering up all the important areas, he then rinsed off and pulled the door back, ready to go and hunt down the other man.

That wasn’t necessary though. Tate was standing in the bathroom, up against the vanity, with his arms and legs crossed, staring directly at him.

“Hello,” Logan stated calmly, not wanting to spook Tate, as he ran a hand through his hair.

Tate shifted his hips against the counter, lowering his eyes to zoom in on—

Yep, my now swelling cock.

“Hi.”

Not possessing one shy bone in his body, including the one standing tall and erect, Logan stepped out of the shower and walked steadily toward the man who was frozen against his sink. When he was close enough that he was dripping water onto Tate’s jeans, Logan stopped and waited for Tate to look at him
.

Slowly, Tate raised his head, and the heated connection they shared, was what had Tate shifting off the vanity. Logan was sure it happened much sooner than it seemed but as Tate’s fully clothed body brushed up against his naked thighs, and
—fuck yes—
his cock, Logan bit back a curse
.

Deciding he needed to speak or he’d end up humping Tate’s leg, Logan stated, “I thought you wanted to take a shower.”

“I decided I wanted something else.”

Hell, how does this guy always shake my steady footing?

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

He watched Tate reach out a seriously shaky hand to trace a line down the center of his chest. The rough finger moved between Logan’s pecs and down to his navel where it stopped and flirted with the damp hair just beneath.

“I want to touch you.”

Logan had been all ready to talk around five minutes ago when he’d been in the shower calming himself down.
But now?
Now, he was ready to go again, and Tate was driving him out of his mind.

Clenching his jaw, Logan stepped forward, muscling Tate back to the sink, and then kept advancing. Tate’s ass hit the edge, and Logan moved slightly, so he had one foot between Tate’s spread ones, and one on the outside of his right thigh. Pressing his naked cock against the rough denim, Logan groaned as he clasped Tate’s arm for support.

Tate shocked the hell out of him by wrapping his arms around his waist and clutching Logan’s bare ass as he hauled him in closer.

Tipping his head back, Logan ground his hips down on Tate’s strong thigh as he growled out, “Jes-us.”

“Fuck,” Tate sighed.

Logan brought his head back up to look Tate in the eye. Parting his mouth, Logan licked his lip and continued to rub himself off on Tate’s leg.

“You still wanna talk?” Logan somehow asked through his lust.

He could feel Tate’s hot breath against his cheek while moving his mouth to Tate’s ear where he bit down gently. “If you want to talk, talk, or I am going to unzip your jeans and rub my cock against that fucking hard-on. And trust me, there will be no talking after that.”

Tate reluctantly released his hold, and Logan slowly took a step back.

“Talk or get undressed, but pick something in the next two seconds, so I don’t lose my goddamn mind.”

* * *

Tate definitely wanted to talk, but as soon as Logan was in front of him, completely naked, wet and erect, his brain had shut down, and his body had taken over.

The man was ripped. From his solid arms to his muscular chest, which had a fine dusting of dark hair, and then his abs and that treasure trail leading down to…

Jesus, how am I supposed to talk?
Tate barely had blood left in his brain to remind himself to breathe.

“Can you maybe put some clothes on?”

“No. Next question?”

Tate frowned. “It would help if you put something on.”

“Why? You seemed comfortable enough a moment ago, and if you weren’t, you should have waited for me to get dressed.” Logan reached out, snagged a towel, and dried himself. When he got to his hair, he rubbed it a couple of times before throwing the towel on the floor.

“That’s hardly the problem,” Tate muttered.

Logan moved toward the door leading to the bedroom, and Tate found himself looking at the firm, round ass he had been kneading just minutes ago
.

“I didn’t think so. Well, come on then. Let’s get the talking over and done with, so we can move on to the fun part. You know, the part where my cock gets to meet yours?”

As Logan exited the room, Tate shook his head incredulously. The guy really did walk to the beat of his own drum. Stepping away from the sink where his ass had taken up residence, Tate made his way into the bedroom to see Logan lying casually on the mattress with his arms behind his head. He had a sheet draped across his waist, and somehow, Tate was positive that Logan had not put on any clothes.

 “How does this work?” Tate finally voiced the number-one question that had been bugging him.

“Well…” Logan removed one of his hands to lay it down beside him on the bed.

Tate’s eyes were drawn to where Logan’s hand had landed, right beside the discernable tent that had formed under the sheet.

“That depends on
what
exactly you’re referring to. The first thing that needs to happen is for you to take off your clothes.”

Tate walked over toward the foot of the bed. “Yeah, that much I know, thanks. I’m unsure of the details, smart-ass. You know, like who…”
Yeah, saying this is much harder than thinking it.

“Like, who fucks who?”

Apparently, it wasn’t an issue for Logan.

“Jesus, do you have to be so—”

“So, what? To the point? Come on, Tate, that’s the thing you’re most worried about, right?” Logan raised a brow. “I’ll make it really simple. I can’t wait for you to fuck me. Does that clear things up for you?”

It sure as hell does.
But somehow, Tate didn’t think that was all there was to it, and he was right.

Logan moved his hand to where the sheet was covering him and started to stroke himself. “For now.”

Tate couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he just stood there with his lips pulled tight.

“Take off your clothes, Tate.”

Tate grabbed the hem of his shirt, removed it swiftly, and threw it off to the side, not even caring where it landed. Tate’s mouth finally parted as Logan started to move his feet, pulling the sheet down, and—

Yeah, the guy didn’t bother with clothes.

As Logan’s nude body came back into view, Tate wondered how it would feel to press his own nakedness against him.

“And the rest,” Logan told him in a voice that seemed to have the same effect as hypnosis.

Tate kicked off his shoes and undid his jeans, removing the rest of his clothes. When he was finally undressed, Logan had both hands down between his thighs. One was jerking his thick shaft, and the other was dipping down to play with his balls. All the while, Logan’s intent gaze focused on Tate’s body.

“Fuck, just stand there. I can do this all day. You don’t have to do anything for me to get off on you.”

Tate felt some of his nerves and apprehension leave as Logan continued pleasuring himself.

“I don’t know when I’ll be ready to…you know, do everything you want,” Tate finally spoke, answering sincerely.

Logan stopped what he was doing and leveled steady eyes on him. “We’ll go as slow as you like.”

“Which for you is full speed ahead?”

“Usually.”

Huh
, Tate thought, and then asked the other question that had been on his mind, “Why are you being so patient with me?”

Logan let go of the hold he had on himself
.
“Why are you even
here
with me?”

Good comeback, damn lawyer.

“Tate, you’re sexy as fuck. The minute I saw you, I got hard. When you opened your mouth, I became one hundred percent interested. And when you kissed me? I lost my damn mind. I’ll be as patient as I need to, to get you inside me. Anything else?”

Tate’s cock seemed to understand because it proudly proclaimed its interest in the action it wanted.

“Get into bed,” Logan coaxed.

“I think I better stay here while we talk.”

“We’re still talking?” Logan asked in a tone that suggested he was over the conversation section of the evening.

“This is a big deal for me. You might be used to putting your dick wherever and whenever, but mine has only visited pussy, and I’m freaking out a little. So, would you hang on, and cut me some slack?”

* * *

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.