by Ella Frank
Oh, fuck it.
Removing his mouth and fingers from Tate’s body, Logan crawled up between his thighs and licked up the cum leading from Tate’s navel to his nipple. When he was finally hovering over the shocked and satiated man, he greeted him, “Morning.”
As Tate’s mouth fell open as if to answer, Logan couldn’t help but kiss him. He wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d get, considering he’d just cleaned up the guy’s stomach with his tongue, but Tate grabbed the back of his head and aggressively returned the gesture.
When he was finally freed, Logan announced, “I’ve got to go to work,” and then he rolled off the bed.
As he made his way over to the bathroom, he heard Tate call out his name. He stopped and turned to see Tate lying exactly the way he’d left him—naked with his legs spread and a glistening stomach from his mouth.
“Yeah?” he finally responded.
“What about you? Don’t you want to—”
“Oh, I want to, but I don’t have time. I do, however, plan to use my hand and a five minute shower very well.”
Tate’s gaze lingered over him. “Want some company?”
Logan gritted his teeth. “Of course, the day you get experimental is a day I have to go in early.”
Tate climbed out of the bed and started walking over toward him. “Okay, how about I just stand and watch?”
Logan shook his head. “No.”
“No?” Tate asked as he got closer.
Taking a step back, Logan made it into the bathroom. “If you stand and watch, it will take me a lot longer than five minutes, and I need to go.”
Tate started laughing as Logan began closing the bathroom door.
“Seriously, I can just watch and not touch, you know.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” Logan agreed, “but I can’t.” He shut the bathroom door and locked it for good measure.
* * *
“You’re late,” were the first words Logan heard as he stepped off the elevator.
With his briefcase in one hand and a coffee in the other, he glared at Cole. “You don’t say.”
“You know you were supposed to be here early. Mark likes you. He works well with you—”
“What? Did you poll the guy? Should I expect a proposal? Jesus, Cole, I’m only ten minutes late.”
Cole took his briefcase from him and gave it to Jane with a restrained smile. “Can you please get this to Mr. Mitchell’s office? He needs to get to the conference room immediately.”
“Yes, Mr. Madison.”
“Cole, Jane,” Cole reminded his personal assistant as he did every day.
“Yes, Mr. Madison,” she repeated back with a smile. She moved around them to make her way toward Cole’s office.
Logan frowned and unbuttoned his jacket. “Why do you even bother? You know Jane will never call you by your name.”
Cole nodded. “That’s not the point.”
“No? Then, what is?” Logan asked as they started walking toward the conference room.
“The point is, for her to always know that she can.”
Logan stopped and turned to face his brother.
Cole shrugged. “It’s our thing.”
Laughing, Logan took a sip of his coffee. “Your thing? I wasn’t aware that you two were dating.”
“Shut up. Rachel says it’s sweet.”
“Rachel doesn’t count. She sleeps with you. Of course, she thinks it’s sweet.”
Cole narrowed his eyes and took the coffee cup from him. “Go in there, and run your mouth where it will actually do us some good.”
“And where are you going?”
“To call my wife. I now feel the need to hear about how sweet she’s going to be to me later.”
Logan lifted his arm and looked at his watch. “You’re calling the wife this early?”
Cole raised a brow. “Yes. Unlike you, I was here on time.”
Logan reached out and twisted the handle, but before he opened the door, he smirked at Cole. “Well, I always said you were the boring one. I’m only ten minutes late, and I already had something sweet today. I left him naked in my bed. Have a nice phone call.”
* * *
Tate had showered and dressed after Logan left, and he was now standing in the man’s kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. His damp hair was cooling against his neck, and as he looked around the condo, he found himself trying to learn about the man who lived there.
The first thing he noticed was the lack of photos. There wasn’t even one. Not so unusual, Tate thought. He didn’t have any photos up either, but then again, he’d only been living in his crappy apartment for a short period of time, ever since directly after his—divorce.
Putting the cup down on the counter, he ran a hand through his hair. Am I really considering taking this all the way? As he looked at the couch and remembered last night, not to mention this morning, he knew that if they continued, then yes, he would eventually need to find a way to tell his friends and family. I mean, what’s the alternative? There wasn’t one, and Tate knew when it came to Logan, the feelings he was starting to have were already starting to escalate.
Moving over to the couch where Logan had put his jacket, Tate heard his phone start to buzz. Pulling it out of the pocket, he noticed he’d missed—oh fuck—six calls. While taking his cigarettes out of the other pocket, he answered the call and brought the phone to his ear.
“Tate?” his mother greeted him.
Tate sighed. “Hi, Mom.”
“Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling you since last night. I thought maybe you forgot to pay your bill, and they turned your phone off.”
Tate wandered over to the door leading to Logan’s balcony. He unlocked it and stepped outside. Leaning back against the wall, he crossed his legs and looked out at the building next door, wondering if he could see inside if he looked hard enough.
“When has that ever happened?”
“Well, okay, never,” his mother answered.
He could hear a drawer being opened and what he thought were utensils being moved around.
“Then, why would it happen now?” Tate pulled a cigarette out between his lips and grabbed the lighter. Holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he waited.
“I don’t know. Why else wouldn’t you answer your phone?”
There was a pause as Tate tried to think of a likely reason, other than the real one. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough.
“Were you on a date?”
“No.”
“Did you have a woman over, and that’s why you couldn’t answer?”
“Mom. No,” Tate stressed.
But it was beyond containment.
“What’s her name? What does she look like?”
Tate took a long drag of the cigarette and closed his, picturing his date from the night before. Yeah, somehow, he didn’t think his mother would appreciate that his date was around six-feet-two and had dark stubble to match his short black hair.
Oh, not to mention, Mom, his dick is slightly longer than my own.
Yeah, maybe not.
“Mom, there was no date.”
Tate could hear some water running and knew that his mother must be in the kitchen, cooking. She loved to bake, and that was his opportunity to get the hell out of this sticky conversation.
“What are you cooking?”
“Don’t you try and change the subject, William Tate Morrison,” his mother warned jokingly, pulling out the full-name card.
“There is no subject.”
Then, as if she could see through the phone, she asked, “Are you smoking?”
Tate gritted his teeth. “I’m going to hang up the phone, just so you know in advance, and don’t get mad.”
“Don’t hang up, don’t hang up,” she grumbled.
“Are you going to quit hassling me?”
“I suppose. But don’t worry, I promise not to tell everyone that you’re seeing someone.”
Tate’
s jaw started to tick. The woman was as stubborn and pigheaded as…well, himself.
“I’m. Not. Seeing. Anyone.”
“Okay, son. You’ll bring her around when you’re ready.” His mother paused and then asked, “So, what time will you be here Sunday?”
Tate rolled his eyes and told her a time. Hanging up the phone, he chose to ignore the nervous thumping of his heart at the mere thought of bringing Logan anywhere near his family.
In fact, to settle his nerves and any lingering doubt he had, Tate selected Logan’s name on his contacts list, opened up a message box, and began typing.
I’m convinced my shower would have been so much better with you in it this morning.
* * *
Logan had just sat down at his desk when Cole wandered in and shut the door.
“What now?” he asked.
Cole walked over and sat in the chair opposite him. “Tell me how it went.”
Breathing out a sigh of annoyance, Logan leaned back and brought his ankle up to rest on his knee, tapping his fingers on the wood. “Well, I walked into the conference room, offered him a blow job, he accepted, and then we signed the papers.”
Cole remained silent, obviously not believing him.
“Oh, fuck off, Cole. Why do you suddenly need a play-by-play? We signed the client, so get off my ass.”
“Maybe if you’d said that this morning to Mr. Morrison, you would have been here on time.”
Logan’s mouth fell open, and the words he was about to say got stuck. When his phone vibrated on the desk, he glanced at the message quickly and saw that it was Tate. Knowing Cole would not be leaving anytime soon, Logan looked back to his brother as he absently hit a button to Ignore the message. He’d call Tate back as soon as his over-attentive business partner left. “That was last night’s activity, if you must know. And aren’t you the comedian today?”
“I try.”
“No, you don’t—ever. So, what gives?”
Cole tilted his head to the side. “You were with the bartender, huh?”
Logan sat forward and clasped his hands together, glaring across at Cole. “Yes, Counselor. I know you’re not stupid, so you already know all of this. Get to the point.”
Cole raised a hand and stroked his chin with a shrug. “Bit messy, don’t you think?”
Logan knew exactly what he meant, but he’d had just about enough of Cole’s veiled comments. “Sure it is, but he’s so much fun to lick up, and he’s so…vocal. Oh yeah, Logan.”
* * *
Tate stared at the phone in his hand and felt something between panic and burning rage. Surely, what he was hearing at the other end was not what he thought it was, but as he watched the seconds on the display change, it was confirmed. The call from Logan was definitely connected.
When his message had first gone through, his phone almost immediately began to ring. Sitting down on the couch, Tate had relaxed back into the leather, thinking he was about to talk with the man who’d left him in bed this morning.
Instead, he was sitting on the couch, listening to—
What? A conversation between Logan and—Tate could only assume—Cole? One in which Tate was not only the central character, but also the comedic relief.
* * *
Cole didn’t even flinch at Logan’s reenactment. After years of knowing one another and working together every day, Logan figured it would take a whole hell of a lot to shock his brother.
Instead, Cole asked, “What are you doing with this guy?”
Logan couldn’t help himself. “Well, last night, he was actually the one who did…”
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop fucking around and answer me. I walked in on you doing and being done all through college. I hardly think I’m going to be horrified now. So, cut the crap. What are you doing with this guy?”
Logan glared at Cole. The asshole is right. He knows me better than anyone. “I’m just having fun, okay? It’s nothing serious. Just the usual.”
Cole’s eyes pinned him in place as he sat forward in his chair. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Do you even remember what fun is?”
“Kind of. Yes,” Cole answered stoically, not a smile in sight. “Does he know he’s just a piece of ass?”
Logan frowned, discovering he hated that fucking description, but he offered no defense. He didn’t need Cole all over him about this.
“How is this your business? And yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows we aren’t running out to buy wedding rings.”
“You know, it’s okay to admit that you like the guy.”
Logan shook his head. He had no idea why Cole was being such a pain this morning, but it was getting really damn aggravating.
“What the fuck, Cole? Get off my case, would you? I have dated before.”
“When? College?”
“Maybe,” Logan replied vaguely, knowing of only one other person he had ever dated.
Cole stood and placed his hands on the desk and looked down at him.
“If you mean Chris, that is not dating. That was fucking, hiding, lying, and then him bailing like a pussy when everyone found out. And he was gay.”
Logan sat back at the anger on Cole’s face. He had been referring to Chris, but he hadn’t really wanted to rehash it, especially not that way.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Yes, it was. So, I will ask you again,” Cole began. “What are you doing with this straight guy? You know how things like this end, and I don’t know why, but you always end up giving a shit about the wrong people.”
“That’s not true, and it doesn’t matter. I told you, this isn’t that serious.”
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Logan recognized them for the lies they were. But he wasn’t about to confide in Cole, not when he was royally pissing him off.
* * *
Tate wondered how he hadn’t hurled his phone across Logan’s living room as he glared into the brightly lit surface shining back at him. He was livid. With every word that passed between these two, Tate’s temper rose, and the trust he’d been so reluctant to give crumbled.
Not sure how much more he could listen to, Tate was about to end the call when Cole’s voice came through the phone, breaking the silence.
“After Chris, you have not had one serious relationship. You fuck and run. And the first person you decide to focus on is straight?”
Tate sucked in a breath. He didn’t want to hear Logan’s response, but he also found it impossible to ignore.
“You know, when you got married a week after knowing Hot Cheetah Pants, I wasn’t this much of an asshole.”
“No, but you were quick to point out how I tied myself to one person. Just make sure the person you decide to put all your effort into is the right person.”
“You’re really starting to piss me off.”
For once, Tate had to agree with Logan. Cole was really pissing him off, too.
“Am I? Truth hurts, huh?”
“Whatever. What’s your point? If you even have one.”
“My point is, Logan, don’t delude yourself into thinking he’s going to magically switch teams.”
“Well, thank you, Cole, for being so damn supportive. Good thing I’m not delusional.”
Still furious, Tate pushed aside his own anger and disappointment for a moment. He thought he’d caught something in Logan’s tone, but before he could pinpoint it, it was gone.
* * *
Logan wanted to hit something, and he was afraid if Cole didn’t leave, it would be him. So, he advised, “You know where the door is. Why don’t you go and fucking use it?”
Cole stood and walked over to where Logan was now standing behind his desk. Logan hated that he had to look up, even slightly. When he did, he saw a flash of sympathy cross Cole’s face, and he almost gave in to the urge for violence, something he hadn’t done in years.
“I said, get out,” he repeated.
Cole shook his hea
d. “Don’t become someone’s mistake.”
“Why? It’s what I’m good at. I was your father’s biggest mistake.”
Logan knew it was low, and he knew the blow was uncalled for, but Cole was hitting too close to all of his fears and insecurities. When Logan was cornered, he always fought dirty.
“That was low, even for you.”
“Are you really surprised? Now, get out.”
Cole turned on his heel and left the office, leaving Logan just the way he wanted to be—alone. As he moved over to the window, he wondered when exactly he had decided that being alone was all he deserved.
* * *
Tate hit End on the call and threw his phone on the couch, cursing Logan and admonishing himself. How could I have been so damn stupid? This whole thing had disaster written all over it from the beginning.
But after last night, he’d thought—
What? That Logan was serious about all of this? That he cared? Well, there you go. There’s your fucking wake-up call. Loud enough for you?
Tate tried to block out everything he’d heard, and he jumped slightly when the phone beside him started to ring. Looking down at the screen, he saw it was Logan. He picked it up and hit Answer, but he remained silent.
“Tate? You there?”
Tate closed his eyes and turned to lie down on the couch.
“Hello? If you don’t answer me, I’m going to call the cops and tell them to go check my condo just in case you were attacked or—”
“Shut up, Logan,” Tate finally cut him off. He wasn’t going to lay there and act like everything was fine just because Logan was putting on one hell of a show.
“What’s wrong with you?” Logan had the audacity to ask.
Tate couldn’t help the snide tone that crept into his voice. “Oh, nothing serious.”
There was a lengthy pause and then, “Well, obviously, something’s wrong.”
“And obviously, I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Um, what the fuck, Tate?”
Infuriated at himself and Logan, Tate sneered through the phone, “Exactly. What the fuck? Maybe we should go and get Cole for this? Make it a conference call. He seems to know all about our relationship. But hang on, we don’t have one of those, do we? It’s just some fun?”