by Ella Frank
Logan faced him as he approached and decided that the best way to deal with this was to deny everything.
“Get everything taken care of?”
It took a moment for him to work out what Tate was referring to, and then he remembered his fabricated story.
“Yes. I called them back. All taken care of.”
Tate didn’t stop walking and actually had Logan backing up until he hit the wall at the far end of the corridor.
“What was it you told me earlier?” Tate asked as he placed his right hand against the wall.
Never one to ever back down, Logan shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Tate’s eyes moved over his face, and Logan could feel his heart beginning to thump hard inside his chest. I’m such a fool for this guy.
“No. I remember. You told me I was a terrible liar.”
“You are,” he agreed, but he shut his mouth when Tate’s other hand came up and caged him in against the wall.
Fuck. This side of Tate, the forceful, take-what-you want side, stroked him in all the right places.
“That may be true, but you know what, Logan? So are you. Why don’t you tell me why you really came out here?”
Logan decided that there wasn’t going to be a better time than right now to try and make his point without sounding like a complete idiot. He lifted both hands and slid them under Tate’s jacket to the middle of his back.
“I needed to—” Logan’s voice left him as Tate lowered his head and his curls brushed the side of his cheek.
“You needed to…” Tate teased right by his ear.
Logan leaned his head back against the wall and lost his train of thought when Tate’s lips sucked on his earlobe.
“What did you need, Logan?”
Right now, he needed to come, but they weren’t discussing that.
“I needed to calm the fuck down.”
Tate raised his head until they were eye to eye. Then Logan watched them widen slightly as if he hadn’t expected him to admit it.
“Because?”
Fine. If he had to admit to his moronic behavior, he was going to do it in a way that hopefully distracted Tate. He shoved away from the wall and turned them slightly, pushing Tate until his back was against the unforgiving surface.
Yes, that’s much better.
Tate put up no resistance as Logan fit his body as close as he could to the one in front of his.
“You’re jealous,” Tate accused softly, but he didn’t stop there. “Not the puff-up-your-chest kind, but the stupid, illogical kind. Am I right?”
God. Just hearing the words made Logan wince. He hated that they were true. They made him vulnerable. So instead of admitting anything, he brought a hand up and took Tate’s chin, holding his face still.
“You make me…”
“Yes?” Tate urged, moving his hips off the wall to bump their lower bodies together.
Logan tilted his head up slightly and touched Tate’s upper lip with his tongue. When Tate opened his mouth, Logan tightened his grip on his chin and turned Tate’s face away. He brought his lips to the side of Tate’s stubbled jaw and gently sank his teeth in.
The guy had him a second away from confessing his very soul right there in the fucking hallway.
“I swear you make me lose my mind. I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Logan?”
He put his mouth to Tate’s ear. “Yes?”
“I fucking love that.”
The confession ripped away the last vestiges of politeness he had, and Logan removed his hand to grab Tate’s leather-clad ass. He pulled his hips forward as his mouth found the side of his neck. Logan sucked the skin between his teeth and rubbed his erection against Tate’s thigh.
“You have nothing to be jealous of,” Tate tried reassuring him.
Logan was past thinking rationally though, so when he pressed their mouths together, he confessed boldly, “I don’t fucking care. Even the thought of you with someone else during a simple game of Pictionary makes me insane.”
Both of them froze as the words lingered between them, and Logan knew that he’d just given his entire hand away. He’d finally admitted that this thing between them was so much more than sex.
He wanted this night, this moment where everyone knew Tate was with him, to be real—to be the way their life really was. He wasn’t quite sure how Tate would react, but when his lips were taken in a brutal kiss, that was good enough for him.
As Tate’s tongue slid inside his mouth, Logan kneaded the tight ass in his hands. Damn, he wished they were home. He wanted to do exactly what Tate had suggested earlier and peel him out of those pants—with his teeth.
Logan crushed his body against Tate’s and used him to rub against as he continued to taste the tongue twisting around his own. He could feel Tate’s hard-on trapped behind the leather as he ground it against him, and Logan tried his hardest to keep his hands above clothing.
Tate pulled his mouth away, and when his head fell back against the wall, Logan’s fingers dug into the supple leather. He rested his forehead beside him and sighed, “God, what you do to me is unreal. Fuck, Tate.”
“Later. After Pictionary.”
He brought a hand around to Tate’s cock and palmed him. “Fuck Pictionary.”
Tate’s hips thrust against him as he grabbed his shoulders with both hands. “We need to go back inside.”
“In a minute,” Logan protested. “When I’m done.”
As it was, he was nowhere near done—he was busy being distracted.
So distracted that he didn’t hear the elevator, and he sure as fuck didn’t hear the two women who got out on Cole’s floor.
* * *
Tate closed his eyes and tried to think as Logan methodically tore his inhibitions to shreds. He’d had no clue what to expect from tonight, but being introduced as Logan’s boyfriend hadn’t been it. So when it had happened and felt…normal, Tate had let the idea sink in and settle.
This is what it would feel like to be with Logan as a couple.
Tate brought his hands to Logan’s chest and smoothed them over the hard pecs beneath his blue shirt. He felt Logan’s fingers massaging his ass, and Tate couldn’t help clenching it as he undulated his hips harder against the thigh that was now wedged between his own. He grabbed Logan’s waist for a stronger connection, and that was when two female voices met his ears.
“Check it out,” he heard, and he opened his eyes to see a gorgeous blonde woman whack her friend on the arm.
As they walked farther down the hallway, the brunette seemed to realize that she was watching two men. Not only that, but they were in the middle of nearly ripping each other’s clothes off.
“Umm, maybe we should give them a minute.”
Tate doubted a minute would do, especially since Logan hadn’t even noticed that they were being watched yet. He tried to slow Logan down by pushing him away a little, but he was going nowhere. Instead, he traced his tongue up over his Adam’s apple, making him moan.
“Does it really look like a minute is going to end that? In a minute, I'm hoping one is going to get down on his—”
“Shelly!”
Ahh, so this is Shelly and—
Logan finally noticed they had an audience, and Tate almost cursed the fact he’d stopped kissing his neck to face them.
Tate watched the two women come to a stop and had no doubt that the expression on Logan’s face was sexually suggestive. He’d seen that look several times, including one night at After Hours. Logan aroused was hard to fucking resist, and when he aimed that heated stare your way, he might as well be inviting you to join in.
“Sorry, ladies. You know how it is. Once you start, it’s hard to stop.”
Tate remained plastered against the wall, thinking that those words were very fucking accurate as his cock pounded and his heart went insane.
Meanwhile, Logan held a casual conversation.
The brunette seemed almost as mortified as Tate was starting t
o feel, but the blonde had no issue whatsoever as she pushed past her friend and eyed first Logan and then turned her curious gaze on him.
“You didn’t have to stop. I was more than happy to observe.”
“Oh my God, Shelly. Shut up!”
The blonde looked over her shoulder.
“Please do not pretend you don’t want to see more. I’ve never seen two men together and…just wow.”
Her friend said nothing as Shelly turned back to them both.
“Hi. I’m Shelly, and my embarrassed friend over there is Lena. You must be Logan.”
In true Logan form, he didn’t miss a beat. He took Shelly’s hand, bent down over it, and kissed her fingers.
“And why would you assume that I’m Logan?”
It was the battle of the blue-eyed duo, because the blonde narrowed hers and a devious smile stretched her painted lips. This woman was as confident as Logan himself.
“I’ve only met one other man who barely apologized for having sex in front of me, and that was your brother, Cole. I just didn’t believe Rachel when she said you two were practically cut from the same cloth. With only a few differences.”
As that last sentence left her tongue, Tate watched her eyes move over Logan’s shoulder to meet his own, realizing that he was the difference.
“You’re hot.”
“He’s mine,” Logan was quick to claim, and Tate had no problem with that. Shelly was something else.
She found that extremely amusing. “Don’t worry. He’s safe. Josh is mine. I have a thing for the longer hair.”
Tate remained silent as Logan turned back to him and tracked his eyes over his body before—thankfully—turning away.
“So do I.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” the brunette—Lena—said, stepping around the two arrogant peacocks to make her way over to where he was still against the wall. “I’m Lena, Mason’s wife and Rachel’s sister-in-law. You must be Tate.”
Finally. Here was someone who wasn’t set on making things awkward. Tate smiled and the woman, whose eyes were full of kindness, returned it.
She then told him as confidently as the other two, “Ignore Shelly. She missed the course on how to be subtle and skipped straight to being inappropriate.”
Tate liked Lena instantly.
“That’s okay,” he allowed, and let his eyes find Logan. If you think this embarrasses me…you’re wrong. “I date Logan. Practically everything out of his mouth is inappropriate.”
“Not to mention everything in it,” Logan replied.
Tate smirked at the smartass, and returned his attention to Lena. “See?”
“Well, I’ll apologize for interrupting you both. Shelly and I got held up.”
Tate nodded. “Yeah, your men are waiting on you.”
Lena raised a hand and knocked on the door, pushing it open to let them in. “So, whose team are you on? We should be partners.”
Tate watched the arrogant confidence leave Logan as it was replaced with a disbelieving scowl.
He had to admit that it was a thrill to be wanted by Logan Mitchell.
11.
Logan wandered inside behind Tate and tried to push aside his childish impulse to get jealous all over again.
What’s the matter with me?
“Look who we found out in the hall—” Lena stated as she entered the condo, right before her friend, the blonde bombshell, interrupted.
“Acting as if they were in a much more private environment, I might add.”
Logan heard Tate cough as if he were clearing his throat and decided that he should step in just in case Blondie had anything else to say.
“Well, if certain people announced themselves instead of being peeping toms—”
The sassy doctor, Shelly, turned and raised a brow at him. “Excuse me. I got off an elevator. You were getting off on him.”
“All right, all right,” Josh said as he made his way past Lena, who was shaking her head, to lean in and kiss his wife’s cheek. “Do I need to muzzle you?”
Shelly wrapped her an arm around his neck and turned her face toward him. “I’d like to see you try.”
Josh gave her a kiss that was so intense even Logan had a difficult time pulling his eyes away. Hell, with someone as mouthy as her, you’d have to have a definite way of shutting her up, and from the looks of it, Josh didn’t mind one bit.
“Hey, Langley. Miss me?”
Logan pulled his eyes away from the couple in the center of the room and saw Lena making her way over to her husband.
The way Mason was watching her as she got closer was one of love, adoration, and absolute devotion. There was another man who was truly in love, and he didn’t have one problem letting everyone see it.
When she reached him, Mason stood and towered over her, but she comfortably wrapped her arms around him and tilted her face up for a gentle kiss that clearly relayed just how very much he’d missed her.
“Always. How was your day, Doctor?”
She ran her hand down his chest and then patted it a couple of times. “It was tough, but this is exactly what I need tonight. Did Catherine and Savannah settle down okay?”
“They did. Like two little angels.”
“When they’re sleeping,” Shelly added and had everyone agreeing.
Well, everyone but Logan and Tate. They were still standing and observing.
“So,” Shelly said, dumping her bag on the floor by the couch. “Game night. You.” She pointed directly at Logan. “You’re gonna be on my team.”
Damn, she’s feisty.
“Sorry, Blondie, I’m done playing for your team at this time.”
“Oh? Would you prefer Josh then?”
Logan chuckled at the brazen challenge this woman was dishing out and then turned his eyes on Tate. “Actually, I’d prefer Tate. But since he’s been claimed this evening, maybe I will pair up with you. Somehow, I feel like we should be related.”
“Why’s that? Do people always tell you you’re loud, bold, and totally inappropriate at least once a day?”
That had Cole muttering, “Shit,” and Logan giving her his most wolfish grin.
“Only if I’m acting on my best behavior.”
She leaned into her husband, kissed his cheek, and then held her hand out to Logan. “Then we’ll get along just fine.”
Logan took it and saw Cole shaking his head as he and Rachel moved them all through to the dining area.
Everyone took a seat, and when Tate sat down beside Rachel, Logan made sure to sit directly opposite him. Shelly snagged the seat beside him. Then Lena and Mason took one end of the table, leaving Josh and Cole facing each other.
“Oh, this is sweet,” Logan said as he looked over to his brother. “You always did try and understand why I liked to play with men. Now, you can find out for yourself.”
Rachel and Shelly burst out laughing as Cole called him a not-so-nice name, and Josh glanced at his wife. She offered a lame, “Sorry?”
Josh rolled his eyes as if he were used to her ways and then moved to the other end of the table and sat beside Cole. “If you play this half as good as you do poker, I don’t mind switching teams for the night.”
Rachel was still giggling along with Tate, but she managed, “Cole, your face is priceless.”
Cole pinned her with his I-don’t-find-this-amusing look, but then his eyes softened and his lips twitched. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I do,” she promised and then licked her lips. “It’ll be fun re-converting you to my team, later.”
Logan watched as Cole eyed his wife as though they were the only two in the room, and then Mason cleared his throat.
“Okay, you two. Want to refrain from making out on the table? Let’s play.”
Logan had to bite his lip to stop himself from saying something. He remembered when Cole had told him about Mason’s initial reaction to him and Rachel, and it was hilarious that, all these years later, Mason was still giving Cole shit. It also made Lo
gan happy to know that he wasn’t the only one.
Logan glanced around the room and suddenly found himself forgetting about the fact he wasn’t paired up with who he really wanted.
He was having fun anyway. That was when Tate surprised the shit out of him by putting his foot between his legs and winking at him.
So, we’re playing that game, are we?
Logan clapped his hands and then rubbed them together as he grinned across the table at his date and announced, “Let the games begin.”
* * *
Tate loved Logan’s family.
Or is it his extended family?
He wasn’t quite sure, but as he sat there trying to guess what Rachel was attempting to draw, he was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes.
“A horse?” he guessed.
She nodded and then gestured for him to keep going. On the pad of paper in front of her was a stick figure of the common barnyard animal, and then beside that, she’d scribbled out a smaller version.
Tate frowned. “A pony?”
She shook her head and pointed to the first picture again, the big—
“Horse?”
Again, she nodded, and Tate could hear the rest of the group chuckling around the table as she then started to madly circle the small horse.
“Baby horse?”
No.
“Little horse?”
Negative.
Rachel’s eyes flicked to the hourglass and then to him, this time wildly animated as she impersonated her version of a neighing horse.
“I think that he got that it’s a horse, Rach.”
Rachel glared down at her brother, who then started to really laugh, and Tate heard Logan ask, “Is this charades now? I didn’t think we were supposed to make noise or act?”
Tate stared at the two pictures again before it suddenly hit him.
“Shetland pony?”
“Yes!” Rachel exclaimed, jumping out of her seat and launching herself around his neck. “Yes.”
Tate hugged her back and looked across the table at Logan, who quipped at the exact same time he did, “That’s what she said.”
The entire room roared then, and Lena stretched an arm out to grab the pad Rachel had been drawing on.