by Ella Frank
Tate’s jaw bunched, and Logan knew he was biting back either a curse or a groan. Hell, probably both. He knew he was. “Turn around, Tate.”
Tate did as he was instructed and pivoted so he was facing the bed with his legs slightly spread, and Logan moved so he was standing directly behind him.
Tate’s broad shoulders and trim waist were framed beautifully by the snug vest, and thanks to the cut of it, the hem rested right at his lower back, showcasing the matching pants, which hugged the curve of his ass in a breathtakingly intimate way.
Logan took a step closer and placed his hands on Tate’s shoulders before nuzzling his nose into the thick curls sweeping the collar of the shirt.
“God,” Logan said. “I’ve missed being with you like this.” Tate shuddered, and Logan raised his head as he smoothed his hands down Tate’s back. “Missed talking with you. Laughing with you,” he said as he took hold of Tate’s waist and pulled him back against himself. “Just being with you.”
Tate relaxed against him, letting his head fall to the side, and the second Logan’s mouth connected with the warm skin of his neck, a groan rumbled out of Tate’s throat.
“Mhmm, you’ve missed it too. Haven’t you?” Logan said, and trailed his fingers along Tate’s black leather belt until they reached the square metallic clasp.
“Hell yes,” Tate said, as Logan freed the buckle and unbuttoned the top button of Tate’s pants. “Missed you so goddamn much.”
Logan nipped at Tate’s lobe and then whispered in his ear, “Never. Again,” before he pulled one end of the belt and slid it free. It dropped to the hardwood floor with a clunk, and then he was unzipping Tate’s pants and tugging his shirt from its restrictions.
“Never,” Tate agreed, and then his breath caught as Logan reached inside his pants and boxers to wrap his fingers around Tate’s erection. “Jesus…fuck.”
Logan hummed from the sublime pleasure he got from finally having his hands back on Tate. “I’m going to put my lips on every inch of you tonight. Then I’m going to sink my cock back inside you where it’s dying to be.”
Tate’s hips punched forward, his agreement loud and clear, but Logan wanted the words. Wanted to hear what Tate wanted. “Is that okay with—”
“Yeah. But…” Tate’s words faded as he grabbed the arm Logan had wrapped around him. Logan stilled his fist as Tate’s fingers dug into his forearm, and the sound of Tate’s heavy breathing was the only noise now in the bedroom.
“But?” Logan asked.
Tate turned his head, his lust-laden eyes finding Logan’s, as he took in a shaky breath and said, “If you don’t stop that, I’m gonna come before you get my fucking clothes off.”
Logan licked his bottom lip and slowly released his hold. “Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
Tate’s eyes flicked to Logan’s mouth. “No. I’d much rather come somewhere else.”
Fucking hell, there was no way Logan was going to last if Tate kept talking like that. So he stepped around in front of Tate, took hold of either side of his face, and crushed their mouths together.
Tate opened to him immediately, and Logan sank his fingers into Tate’s hair, twisting them around the silky texture. The hand Tate had on his arm came up to rest on Logan’s chest, and when his fingers curled around the material of his shirt, Tate tugged him in as close as they could get with their clothes on. Logan growled as he gave his tongue to Tate, who sucked on it, and then Logan slid his hand down to the back of Tate’s neck to hold him in place so he could get a more thorough taste of him.
“Logan…” Tate panted when he tore his mouth free. His lips were swollen and wet, and when he slicked his tongue along them, Logan reached for the buttons of Tate’s vest, understanding exactly what he wanted. Tate went to undo Logan’s shirt then, but he was quick to put a stop to it.
“Uh uh. I’ll take care of that,” Logan said, just as the vest parted and he ran his fingers down the length of Tate’s tie, removing the silver tie bar. “Let’s work on getting you naked first.”
Tate’s mouth curved as he lowered his arms to his sides. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“Not a chance in hell of that happening,” Logan said, and made quick work of the tie, tossing it to the floor.
The buttons of Tate’s shirt were next, until it and the vest hung open, exposing a wide strip of mouthwatering skin. Logan placed his palms on Tate’s chest and slowly slid them up to his shoulders, moving in to scrape his teeth along Tate’s jaw as he pushed the material down his arms and then finally to the floor.
His fingers went to Tate’s pants then, and Logan flirted with the edge of the material before his wandering hands went to either side of Tate’s hips. He sucked on Tate’s earlobe, and when a muttered curse left him, Logan raised his head, smiled, and then gripped either side of his pants as he lowered down in front of him, removing the remainder of Tate’s clothes.
NOW NAKED, TATE waited with his hands fisted by his sides and a raging hard-on courtesy of the fully clothed man getting back to his feet. When Logan was finally standing opposite him again, he said, “Get on the bed, Tate.”
Tate’s eyes shifted over Logan’s shoulder to their wide king-sized with the stark white sheets, navy-blue pillows, and white duvet. Then he looked back to Logan and asked, “Back or stomach?”
“Oh, you’re going to end up on both. But for now, let’s start with your back.”
Tate couldn’t stop himself from stealing a kiss before he walked around Logan and said over his shoulder, “Bring it on.”
As he moved to his side of the bed and pulled the covers down, Tate heard Logan unbuckle his belt, and by the time he’d climbed to the center of the mattress and was reclining to his back, he saw Logan over on his side with his shirt unbuttoned and a bottle of lube in his hand.
Logan tossed it on the mattress, and when he placed his knee on the bed, the tails of his shirt shifted and Tate’s eyes trailed down to where Logan had unsnapped and unzipped those black pants he still wore. And fuck if that isn’t the hottest invitation to sin ever. God.
Tate reached down to wrap a fist around the root of his cock, needing some kind of pressure there or he was going to lose it before the real stuff even began. But it had been so long, and even longer since he’d really had the time to enjoy this side of Logan, that having all of that potent energy directed at him was like a lit match being tossed on a barrel of gasoline.
A couple of seconds later, Logan was across the bed and stretching out along the top of him. Tate took hold of Logan’s waist as he pushed one of his legs between Tate’s naked ones, and then rested his forearms by either side of his head.
“Not going to take these off?” Tate asked, as he moved his hands to the material still covering Logan’s ass.
“I will. But right now, they’re the only thing stopping me from already being inside you. And I told you, I’m going to make you wait.”
Logan ground his hips down, and when his covered erection grazed the top of his naked one, Tate groaned.
“See…doesn’t that feel good?” Logan asked, a smirk crossing his devious lips.
Fuck yes it feels good, Tate thought. So damn good that he grabbed Logan’s ass and used him as an anchor, as he thrust his hips up and rubbed all of his naked skin against Logan’s hard body.
“Fuck, Tate,” Logan said on a ragged breath.
“You asked,” Tate teased. “I was just answering.”
Logan lowered until his entire body was resting on top of Tate, and then his eyes lit with challenge. “I’ll have to remember that for next time.”
Tate rocked against the heavy weight of Logan’s frame and ran his hands up under his shirt. “You do that— Damn…that feels…” Tate’s train of thought vanished as Logan began to bite along his jaw, and the material of his pants abraded his inner thighs and—fuck yes—his balls.
“Yes, Tate?” Logan asked.
Tate squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get his lust in check. But th
e chuckle that left Logan told him he wasn’t going to have a hope in hell at controlling anyfuckingthing. Least of all the man who was now kissing his way down his body.
LOGAN LICKED AND sucked his way down Tate’s chest, ribs, and muscled abs, and when he was finally situated between his spread thighs, he raised his head to look up at the man staring down at him.
Tate had clamped a tight fist around the base of his cock, and when Logan licked his lips, Tate stroked his hand up the length of his engorged shaft and swiped his thumb across the broad head of it. Then, with his scorching eyes trained on Logan’s, Tate extended his arm, and Logan was right there taking hold of his wrist and sucking his thumb between his lips.
Gorgeous fucker knows exactly how to make me lose my mind, Logan thought, and when Tate removed his hand and placed it behind his pillow, plumping it up so he could see better, Logan had to take a moment.
He shut his eyes and counted back from ten, and once the desire to attack was somewhat banked, Logan reopened them to look at everything that was only inches from his face.
Tate’s muscled thighs were splayed wide, his cock was being leisurely worked by its owner, and his heavy balls were pulled up nice and tight, close to his body. Logan turned his head and placed a kiss on Tate’s inner thigh, and then trailed his tongue up to the crease of his leg. Tate shoved his hips up, trying to get closer to his mouth, but he wasn’t about to be rushed. He slipped his hands under Tate’s ass and held him in place as he repeated the same move on his other leg, and then he licked across one of Tate’s balls, making him curse.
Logan raised his head to see Tate’s fingers flexed around his dick and his other hand down by his side curled around the sheet, and the sight he made was a fucking glorious one. He looked like a man who knew he needed to hold on to something, because what was about to happen next was going to drive him crazy. And he isn’t fucking wrong.
Lowering his head again, Logan nuzzled into Tate’s groin and pulled him a little way down the bed so he could drag his tongue up the length of his erection. Tate moaned and let go of himself to reach for Logan’s hair, and when his fingers found purchase, he took hold and directed his mouth exactly where he wanted it.
Logan swallowed Tate between his lips and reveled in the way he thrust in and out, over and over, and when Tate placed a foot on the bed and really started to fuck the mouth surrounding him, Logan shut his eyes and let him have whatever it was he wanted.
“Logan…if you don’t… Fuck. Fuck,” Tate said, his fingers fisting Logan’s hair as his bent leg slid back down to the mattress and he brought his other one up and over Logan’s shoulder so he could shove deeper into his mouth.
Logan growled at the viselike way Tate had wound himself around him, keeping him exactly where he wanted him with his strong leg, as guttural sounds ripped out of him. Then, as Tate’s hips began to move at a rapid pace, Logan slipped a long digit between his ass cheeks and pressed against the tight hole he couldn’t wait to get back inside of.
Tate’s fingers clenched, and his cock shoved to the back of Logan’s throat, and then he was coming as he shouted out Logan’s name.
FUCK YES, WAS all Tate could think. I sure as hell have been missing this. But before he even had a chance to bask in his orgasm, Logan raised his head, licked his well-fucked lips, and flipped Tate over.
Everything moved at warp speed then because, before his body could even begin to recover from the first rush, Logan was right there revving it up for round two.
Now flat on his stomach, Tate grunted as Logan came back down over him. But this time around, the shirt and pants were removed, and finally, Logan’s erection was leaving a sticky trail along his backside. With his hands planted by Tate’s head, Logan’s hot breath over his ear was a seductive caress, his thick cock an erotic promise of what was about to happen next.
“I don’t know about you, Tate. But I’m not feeling very settled right now…are you?”
Settled? Fuck no, he didn’t feel settled. And as his words from dinner came flooding back, Logan burrowed his nose under the hair at the nape of Tate’s neck and scraped his teeth along his shoulder, making Tate shudder.
Tate saw Logan reach for the bottle of lube and bucked back into the wall of hard muscle he could feel pressing him down into the mattress. The friction of the sheet against him felt out of this world as he unbelievably began to stiffen again.
“That’s it…I know you’ve got another round in you. Don’t you?” Logan said, right before a slippery finger flirted down the crack of his ass.
Tate bit the pillow under him as Logan probed for entry, and when he found it and his finger pushed inside, Tate couldn’t keep his hips still. He jacked them back, and when Logan’s teeth sank into his shoulder, he cursed, and Logan did it again.
Tate drew one of his legs up on the mattress, spreading himself wider for the man on top of him, and when Logan finally slipped two fingers into him, Tate squeezed his eyes shut and reached under himself to stroke his cock.
“Hmm,” Logan said as he licked the teeth marks Tate knew he’d left on his shoulder, and the slow, methodical way Logan continued to stretch him, getting him ready, had him hard all over again.
“God, Logan… I need—” Tate’s words morphed into a curse when Logan’s fingers found and massaged that bundle of nerves that never failed to make his toes curl, and then Logan was pulling them free and hauling Tate up to his hands and knees.
Tate felt one of Logan’s hands on his shoulder holding him in place as the head of his erection knocked against his hole. Then Logan stilled where he was before he slowly began to ease inside of him.
That was when Tate heard him say, “Does this feel domestic to you?” Then Logan gripped his shoulder and jammed his hips forward until his cock was lodged balls deep inside.
THERE REALLY WASN’T anything that felt better than the way Tate’s ass squeezed Logan’s cock when he tunneled it inside. Of that Logan was positive. Well, unless he counted the way it clung to him on the withdrawal.
But as Logan kneeled behind Tate enjoying the heat of his body and the exquisite way it surrounded his shaft, he concentrated on not exploding before he even dared to move. He flexed his fingers into Tate’s hip as he looked at the smooth expanse of his back, and then Logan repositioned his hand to cup the back of his neck.
Logan licked his lips as Tate groaned and let his head fall forward. Then, as Tate rocked back, trying to get him to move, his curls tickled the back of Logan’s hand and he finally gave Tate what his body was begging for.
Logan muscled him down so Tate’s torso was angled in a way that his cheek was against the pillow and his ass was hip height. Like this, Tate was most certainly in a submissive position. But when Logan pulled out and then propelled his hips forward, there was nothing subservient about the forceful way Tate shoved back to take him inside. And fuck, there was no way Logan wasn’t about to take him up on the invitation he was issuing.
With a rough shove, Logan followed Tate down onto the bedding, jamming his hips against the delicious ass that was more than happy to be on the receiving end tonight.
Tate cursed and Logan growled, as he delivered hard, quick thrusts into Tate’s leanly toned body, and Tate was right there with him, one hand gripping the pillow under his head and the other snaking down to get himself off. Logan reached up and took hold of the pillow also, and he put his other hand on Tate’s hip, holding him in place.
This was what they’d both needed. What they’d both craved. And the furious way they moved atop their bed was a testament to the fact that while they may have both been busy these past few months, weeks, and days, never had their attraction subsided. Never had their love.
There was nothing settled or domesticated about them or this reunion, and as Tate shouted out Logan’s name for a second time that night, Logan felt his own orgasm coil and then explode in a rush as he came deep inside the man whose body he was certain had been made to be a part of his.
Chapter Five
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“WHAT? NO GREETING at the door today, Sherry? Well, that didn’t last long,” Logan said the following morning as he came to a stop by his PA’s desk. She looked up from what she’d been working on and peered at him over the edge of her glasses.
“No greeting, period,” she said. “You’re late.”
Logan’s mouth opened, but before he refuted her claim, he looked at his watch. Shit. “It’s Tate’s fault.”
“I’m sure it is,” she said as she got to her feet and came around her desk to take his briefcase. Logan handed it over and took the manila folder she held.
“What? You don’t believe me?” he asked.
“If the choice is between something being your fault or Tate’s…then my money is going on it being your fault. Tate is such a lovely young man.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Mhmm,” she said, even as her lips curved. “Cole is waiting for you. And remember, you have a meeting scheduled for—”
“Nine. I know. If the staff meeting runs over, come get me, would you?”
“Of course,” she said, and reached down to pick up the coffee cup on her desk. After she handed it to him, Logan took a sip and sighed. Ahh, perfection. Sherry had gotten into the habit, from early in their relationship, of having a steaming cup of French press waiting for him on arrival. He’d often told her that if he wasn’t so taken with Tate, he just might be tempted to steal her from her husband. “You better get going before Cole comes looking for you.”
“Right,” Logan said, and when he lowered his mug, he grinned and turned it around so the words faced her. “How is it that you think a man who gave me this particular mug is lovely?”
Sherry read the words: Blow me. I’m hot. scrawled in white across the black ceramic mug, and then raised her eyes back to his. “You have a meeting. Shoo.”
“That’s not an answer.”