by Ella Frank
And fuck yes, he went.
* * *
Tate glanced up Logan’s body from where he was now kneeling, and when their eyes collided, Logan tore his sweater off and began to unfasten his shirt. Once it was free and he’d yanked it from his shoulders, Tate rose up to finger the material of his pants. He slid his fingers under the edge of the fabric and pulled them, along with his boxers, down, freeing Logan’s thick shaft.
A strained sound came from above, and as Logan pumped his hips forward in an effort to get closer to his mouth, Tate circled the base of his cock with his fingers and used his tongue to tease the sensitive underside of the plump head.
“Tate, for fuck’s sake,” Logan cursed.
Raising his head, he caught Logan’s intense look and tongued the weeping slit.
“Ahh…shit.”
Tate lifted his mouth and rooted his nose in against his pelvic bone, kissing his way down to Logan’s balls as he pushed his pants to his ankles. He figured that, if he ignored him long enough, then—
“Tate?” Logan growled and pulled his head up by his hair.
Yes. There he is. The take-what-I-fucking-want Logan that I love.
“What?” he asked as innocently as he could manage with Logan practically fucking his cock against the side of his face. He loved the fierce restraint he saw in him, as if he were trying to hold back but was about to snap.
“Fucking suck it. Now.”
* * *
Logan could feel every pulse in his dick as Tate’s stubble abraded his sensitive skin. Tate started to lick and suck at him again, but just like before, he continued to deny him the hot, wet slide of his mouth—and hell if that rebellious side that fights me doesn’t make me want him more.
He still had a tight hold on the desk, but when Tate sat back on his heels and unbuckled his own belt, Logan asked, “Was I not clear enough for you?”
Tate didn’t answer as he then sucked a finger into his mouth, and Logan swore he’d never seen a filthier look in all of his life than the one Tate was aiming at him.
“Turn around,” he demanded from where he was kneeling, and Logan found it telling that, even when Tate was at his feet, he still had the ability to control his every move.
“Excuse me—”
“Turn around, Logan.”
The order was harsh. It was raw and so goddamned sexy that he had to clamp a fist around his cock to stop himself from coming. The heat in Tate’s eyes was smoldering, and Logan found himself turning the fuck around.
Instantly, Tate’s hands were on his hips and ass, positioning him exactly the way he wanted, and then, without any more warning than his cheeks being parted, a warm tongue swiped across the top of his crack and flirted with the shadowed crevice in between.
Logan moaned and bent at the waist over his desk. As the tip of Tate’s tongue touched his hot flesh again, Logan shoved back toward the tease. Then sharp teeth bit his ass and Tate told him, “Lift.”
Logan lifted first one foot and then the other, and Tate freed him of his shoes and pants.
“Spread your legs,” Tate ordered next.
He did as instructed and a thumb stroked down the crease of his ass and pushed against his hole. Tate was clearly determined to smash his resolve to smithereens, and he was going about it the right fucking way. “Oh, hell yes…”
The last word hissed through his teeth as Tate replaced his thumb with his greedy mouth. He alternated, using his fingers and tongue to stretch and prep him, until finally…finally, Tate was moving back to his feet and crowding in behind him.
“Don’t you fucking move,” Tate said, and then the warmth of his body vanished.
Logan was going nowhere, but if Tate didn’t come back and get his cock inside him, he wasn’t too proud to beg. But before he could find the right words, he was back and Logan saw him place a bottle and a condom on the desk beside his piece of paper.
Where the hell did they come from? But before he could ask, warm fingers circled his wrist and pulled him to his feet, turning him around.
Logan kept his eyes glued to Tate’s, daring him without words to finish what he’d started, and the expression that flashed in Tate’s scorching eyes was, I fucking dare. Tate shifted his body to reach for the condom, but Logan was quicker. He grabbed his papers on the desk, then slapped them against Tate’s chest as he cupped the side of his neck. Then he pulled him forward to slam their mouths together in a bruising kiss, biting down on Tate’s lower lip.
“You don’t need a condom, you teasing motherfucker. I’m clean, and I want to feel you explode inside me.”
Tate looked down at the paper and hesitated for only a second before he moved into action. He muscled him back, and as Logan stumbled, Tate smirked.
Smug fuck.
Logan got on the desk, thankful he’d shoved all the shit off it since it was now his ass lying across it.
“Lie back,” Tate rasped, and without a word, Logan did as he’d been told.
Everything, from Tate’s expression to the stiff cock he was palming through his open pants, had Logan’s arousal skyrocketing. Add in the thrill of being taken in his office and he was fucking positive that, by the end of this, he might need Tate to haul his bare ass out of there.
Either that or they could leave the door locked until they could both walk again—in a year or so.
* * *
Tate stepped between Logan’s legs and looked down at the fingers he had circled around the base of his erection to hold his orgasm off. He then grabbed the bottle of lube he’d brought in his jacket and tipped it over Logan’s cock and balls, spreading it over his taut skin.
Fuck. The thought of taking Logan bareback had him so fucking ready that he was surprised he hadn’t attacked him the second the words had come out of that frustrated mouth. But no, he could and would wait. Even if it fucking kills me.
Logan’s eyes squeezed shut as he moaned, and Tate hooked his hands behind his knees and pulled him to the edge of the desk, pressing the head of his naked cock to Logan’s hot rim.
As their eyes met, Tate told him, “Just so we’re clear, this is me making you bend to my will,” and then he surged forward with one deep thrust.
His name echoed around the empty office as it ripped from Logan’s throat, and when his back arched off the desk, Tate grit his teeth together as the intensity of being inside Logan bare flooded his senses.
“Oh, God. Logan,” he gasped and leaned down to kiss his way up Logan’s neck.
The feeling was unbelievable. It was hot, intimate, and sexy as all fuck. He was trying to get a handle on his control, but Logan wasn’t about to let that happen as he wound his arms and legs around him, trying to get as close to him as he possibly could.
As he started to move his hips, he could feel Logan’s tight channel clenching around his cock every time he pulled out—and it felt fucking unreal. And the erotic, guttural sounds coming from Logan when he tunneled back inside let Tate know he was feeling it too.
The mind-numbing pleasure he got from taking Logan without restrictions drove Tate’s own orgasm closer to the point of explosion. His name was being chanted underneath him, and when he slowed down and took ahold of Logan’s legs to push them back to his chest, a ragged sound left him.
Tate locked eyes on Logan’s vibrant, blue ones, and as he pulled his hips away and then slowly eased himself back between Logan’s cheeks, Logan growled out, “Deep, Tate. Get in deep. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
He fisted Logan’s flushed cock, and as the pre-come slicked it up nice and good, Logan took over so he could do as requested. Tate shoved back inside, and Logan shouted, bucking up from under him in a way that could only mean one thing—more.
Logan was coming undone, and the sight was intoxicating. His cock was dripping with excitement, making one hell of a mess over his stomach and hand, and his inky-black hair stuck to his sweaty forehead while he chased his climax—and Tate was enjoying making him wait for it.
* * *
Logan looked up from where he was positioned on the desk, barely able to remember his own name. With one hand working his cock, he raised the other behind himself to the back of the desk, and Tate let him have it. He clutched the wood beneath his fingers when Tate’s palms stroked up his thighs and over his hips to his ass.
“Yes,” he moaned, and Tate’s lips tightened as his fingers flexed into his skin.
Tate’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and the veins of his neck stood out as his hair bounced on his forehead and he watched him through lust-laden eyes.
He was stunning. He held him completely enamored. And when Tate shouted out his name and a warmth flooded inside him, Logan exploded all over himself in a most spectacular fashion.
He had never felt more complete than he did in that very moment, and as Tate whispered, “God, I fucking love you,” all Logan could think was, He’s all mine.
Chapter Thirteen
Monday morning rolled around, and as Tate opened the door to The Daily Grind, he was impressed that he was early. It wasn’t often he was running ahead of schedule, but while making his way over to a booth on the far wall, he congratulated himself for arriving before Rachel.
“You do know the only reason you beat me here this morning is because I need to stop every five minutes to use the restroom, right?”
Tate swiveled in his seat to see Rachel standing beside the booth, smiling down at him. With a grin, he stood to give her a hug.
“Hey, don’t try to steal my thunder.”
She beamed up at him, and patted him on his chest. “Okay, you can have today. I promise not to tell anyone I had to stop three times.”
As she took the opposite seat, Tate slid back into his and watched her pull a red folder out of her handbag. Placing it on the table, she looked at his widened eyes.
“I organized a list of places. We can check them out and then rate them accordingly on what you do and don’t like about them.”
When she opened the folder and he saw several different colored tabs running down the page, he laughed.
“What?” she asked.
Tate lifted his hips to fish his list of places out of his back pocket. He then put it on the table between them, and when Rachel eyed it, she started laughing also.
“Okay, so I’m a little anal about these things.”
“Nah, it’s great. I’m sure your system is much more efficient than mine.”
Appearing rather pleased with the compliment, she sat back and grabbed the menu off the table that had several images of—
“Oh. My. God. Look at this chocolate caramel muffin.” She turned the menu around and thrust it in Tate’s face. “I’m going to get that. And you know what?” she asked with mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “I’m going to eat it all.”
“As opposed to?”
“As opposed to my caramel-loving thief of a husband who would totally steal half of this from me.”
It did look amazing. But he was more into the chocolate hazelnut bar he’d spotted when he’d walked in. “Do you know what you want to drink? I’ll go order.”
“Hmm…” she mused. “Just a cranberry juice please.”
“You got it. Give me a second.”
He got out of the seat, and as he made his way over to the line, his phone started ringing. After shoving his hand into his pocket, he removed it and answered, wanting to hear the voice of the caller at the other end more than he wanted his caffeine fix.
* * *
Logan sat in his chair Monday morning and studied his immaculate desk. With the phone to his ear and a smile on his face, he waited for the line to connect so he could start his morning right.
He knew that Tate was meeting up with Rachel, and he figured he was probably just strolling in now, so he was a little surprised when the call was answered.
“Hey. Can you hold a sec?”
Before he could say either yes or no, he heard Tate rattling off a drink order and then asking for a hazelnut bar and two muffins.
“Logan? Hey, sorry about that.”
“No problem. I was just sitting here at my desk and wondering how the hell I’m going to get any work done, when all I can remember is—”
“Logan?” Cole cut him off as he stuck his head inside.
“Is?” Tate coaxed, eager to hear more.
Logan raised a hand and gestured for Cole to come in. “How hard I worked the last time I was sitting at it.”
Cole walked into the office and shut the door, taking a seat on the couch as Tate’s chuckle filled Logan’s ear.
“It’s always important to work hard.”
Logan turned away from his brother’s curious eyes and told Tate, “Yeah, that’s not a fucking problem right now. Thanks.”
“Don’t blame me. You started this conversation.”
With a slight cough, Logan shifted in his seat. “Yes, well, your date’s husband just walked in, so please give her our best regards.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Tate asked, and Logan could tell from his tone that he was enjoying himself immensely.
“Yes I am, troublemaker. Have a good day with Rachel,” he said. When he turned back to see Cole frowning, he felt the devil on his shoulder. “But not too good of a day. That’s from Cole, by the way. I’m more than aware you prefer my cock to her—”
“Logan,” Cole warned.
He aimed a shit-eating grin at his brother and asked, “What? I’m just trying to reassure you. Tate’s sexy and all, but—”
“Hey, smartass?” Tate interrupted. “Stop giving your brother shit and tell him to relax. I just bought him a caramel muffin.”
“What’d you buy me?”
“I’m gonna buy you a muzzle if you don’t watch it.”
“Don’t start acting surprised now. You knew I was this way before you…” Logan caught himself when he realized he’d been about to finish with, “fell in love with me.” He was comfortable enough talking about it with Tate, but with Cole’s focus directly on him, he lost his nerve.
“My order’s up,” Tate said, inadvertently saving him. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Before you go, if you find a place today, does that mean you’ll tell me yes? Or do I have to wait another year before that happens?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re impatient?”
“Just when I know I want something.”
“Hmm. We’ll see.”
“In that case,” Logan said, sitting forward in his chair, “good luck today.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know. Have a good day, counselor.”
Upon hanging up, Logan pulled his chair in under the desk and looked at his schedule for the day. He had several meetings across town, and he’d told Sherry to let Lance Powell of LPCW Architecture know that, since he would be over that way, he’d swing by at three to pick up the forms they’d had to sign.
“Tate said to let you know he bought you a caramel muffin. So cool your jets over there, would you?”
Cole stood from the couch and walked over to take a seat in one of the chairs facing Logan’s desk. “My jets are just fine. But since we’re on the topic…how are yours?”
“Do I not appear fine?”
Cole’s brow rose. “You do, which is suspicious in itself. All last week, you were acting like you wanted to murder somebody.”
“You’re one to talk. You’ve been in a foul mood ever since—”
“Your ex-boyfriend, who we’ve both had physical altercations with, showed up? Yes, I can’t imagine why that would worry me. But you know what? Rachel told me it wasn’t my business. So I’ve let it go.”
“Have you?” Logan asked as he placed an elbow on the desk and rubbed his chin. “Don’t let it bother you. Chris is the least of my problems or concerns.”
“Really? Do you want to explain, then, why you were acting like a lion with a thorn in its paw all week?”
Sighing, Logan sat back and clasped his fingers over his stomach. “Evelyn was in town last Mond
ay.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
Cole knew all about Evelyn and her track record. It’d been pretty hard to hide throughout college, especially considering Cole’s father was her greatest mark.
Logan frowned at his shocked brother.
“What happened?”
“Let’s see. She showed up, charmed Tate into dinner out. I played along, hoping she would behave herself for at least one night—”
“I’m assuming she didn’t?”
“Let’s just say I’m going to be paying off the dinner and her week-long stay at The Peninsula for the next few months.”
“Jesus, Logan,” Cole said, shaking his head. “That woman never ceases to amaze me.”
“You and me both. I couldn’t believe she would pull that shit on me in front of someone I fucking care about. I knew she had no problem screwing me over, but to do it in front of Tate… I’ve never been so humiliated.”
“It’s not your fault she’s a damn parasite.”
Logan gave a small shrug. “I know, but that doesn’t really help when you’re left with the bill your ‘wife’ left you.”
Cole’s eyes widened. “Damn. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
Cole was looking at him in a way that had Logan getting to his feet. The expression in his eyes told Logan he was feeling sorry for him, and he didn’t want to go down that self-pitying path again. Tate had just dragged him the fuck out of it.
“Look, I have several things out of the office today. Is everything covered here?”
Cole stood and nodded. “Yeah. I have everything under control. Rachel won’t be home until later. She’s so excited about Tate’s new ‘adventure,’ as she calls it. I wonder if he’ll be able to get away from her before the sun sets.”
Logan laughed as he picked his briefcase up and walked around the desk. “Tate’s pretty amicable for the most part. I’m sure they’ll be out until whenever Rachel decides to call it quits.”