by Ella Frank
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 a
nd wondered how quick of a response he would get. It was almost immediate.
Logan: You’re up early for a day off.
Couldn’t sleep.
Logan: Should I apologize?
Are you sorry?
Logan: Good point. No.
Then, don’t apologize.
Logan: Why couldn’t you sleep?
Busy head.
Logan: Are YOU sorry?
Tate must have stared at that text longer than he’d thought because his phone vibrated again.
Logan: I keep telling you, turn your brain off, Tate.
It’s not that easy.
Logan: Why?
Because.
Logan: I’ve told you already that because doesn’t work for me. Why?
Cause I can’t stop wanting you & you’re a GUY. I don’t like guys. Ugh, I don’t understand why I’m…shit…no one I know will understand.
Logan: Like who?
Friends, family…
Logan: Hang on, we’re meeting family now?
Tate rolled his eyes at the question. The mere suggestion of something other than casual, and Logan changed from flirtatious and demanding, to sarcastic and blunt.
Forget it.
Logan: No, don’t do that.
Do what?
Logan: Get pissed-off. You’re so stubborn.
And you’re impossible.
Logan: Are you scowling?
Tate pressed his fingers to the frown between his brows before lowering them back to the phone.
Yes.
Logan: Hmm, we both know how I feel about that.
The same way you feel about everything?
Logan: And how’s that?
Horny.
Logan: Around you, Tate? 24/7. Now, what time are you coming to get me for lunch?
I’m not coming to get you.
Logan: So, you want ME to come to YOU? Give me your address. I’ll be there ASAP.
Tate glanced around his bedroom and imagined Logan in his room a little too easily, and that had him reaching for his thickening erection. But at the last second, he stopped.
I’ll come to you.
Logan: Thought you might.
What will we tell people?
Logan: People? Like who?
I don’t know. Anyone?
Logan: Nothing. It’s none of their business.