by Ella Frank
“Okay,” Rachel said, as her eyes moved between the brothers. “What are you two thinking? Because as long as I’ve been married to Cole, you have never sat me down for a business meeting.”
Cole glanced at her and then looked at Logan, who nodded, as though agreeing it was time to tell them. “For the last couple of months Logan and I have been discussing scaling back a little, slowing down enough that we can enjoy ourselves. Me, with you and the kids.”
“And me, with Tate.” As Logan said the words, he brought his arm down so he could take Tate’s hand in his. “This past year has been insane. This case took up nearly all my time, and while I love my job, there’s something—actually somebody—who I’d rather spend my time with.”
Tate’s crooked grin just about melted Logan’s heart, and when he managed to tear his eyes off him to look at Rachel, she was sitting with her hands over her chest.
“That’s so sweet.”
“Oh God. You’re not going to cry, are you?” Logan asked.
She gave him a die now look, and Logan looked over at Cole, indicating he should start talking again.
“Anyway, here’s what we’ve been looking into, and we want you both to know we will only do this if you are one hundred percent okay with it. The floor above us in the building has come up for lease. It’s been vacant for the last seven months, and Logan and I have been tossing around the idea of expanding.”
“Wait a minute,” Rachel said. “How would expanding help you slow down?”
“Well, that’s the biggest thing we want to talk to you about,” Logan said, and then looked at Tate. “We want to bring in a third partner.”
“Wow,” was all Tate managed, and Rachel said, “Really?”
Cole nodded. “Really. We’ve thought about it for months now, and whoever we bring in would not be a name partner; the firm will remain Mitchell & Madison. But they will take on a third of the caseload and give Logan and me more time to spend with our families.”
“Oh my God,” Rachel said, and slumped back in her chair. “I’m in shock.”
“This is a little bit of a surprise, guys,” Tate said. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes,” Logan said. “We’ve been talking about it for a while. But we wanted to wait until after the Berivax case to make the final decision. We wanted to make sure we could afford it, first off. Because not only would we hire on this new partner, but we want to get a couple of first-year associates, and basically we’d put our offices upstairs with the conference room and several of the other senior attorneys, and have everyone else where we are right now. We want Mitchell & Madison to be one of the top firms in Chicago. But to do that and keep our sanity, we need to hire more attorneys and a partner with a fire under their ass.”
Rachel and Tate both nodded at that, and Rachel said, “I assume you both have someone in mind?”
“We do,” Cole said, and when his lips pulled into a smirk, he said to Logan, “I’ll let you tell them.”
Logan chuckled and looked between the two waiting for an answer. Finally, he said, “We’re going to call a priest.”
Chapter Ten
TATE WAS STILL trying to process everything from tonight’s reveal at the Madisons as he and Logan headed toward their front door. It wasn’t that he didn’t think it was a fantastic idea to hire on more staff. But another partner? That was unexpected.
“You’d really be okay with bringing in a third person with you and Cole?” he asked, finally voicing the question he’d had since he found out what the two brothers were thinking.
Logan glanced over his shoulder and flashed him a reassuring smile. “Yes, I really would. I mean, we aren’t just going to hire anyone. We vetted him. And this is someone Cole and I have both worked with, so we know we can trust him. Plus, he’s the best criminal law attorney I’ve ever seen. And we want the best.”
“This priest guy?”
“Yes. His name’s Joel Priestley. He’s located in L.A. right now, but we’ve had a few conference calls with him to see if he’d be interested in relocating if offered the right incentive. Another reason we wanted to wait until the Berivax case was either won or lost.”
“Ahh, right,” Tate said, coming to a stop behind Logan at their door. “Well, if it’s what you both want, I see no problem with it.”
Logan inserted the key and nodded. “Like you said about the bar and hiring help, it’s time. Cole has a family, I have you, and we’re in a position where we can afford to do it. So, it’s the perfect opportunity.”
Tate agreed, and thought about the two brothers he’d first met at his old job in After Hours, and then again in their conference room the day he’d arrived to sign his divorce papers—that was the same day he’d first kissed Logan. Damn, that seems like another lifetime ago. He remembered being so pissed off at the two of them that day, and now here they all were discussing their business as a family.
Both extremely proud men, Cole and Logan were often considered arrogant by those they met, including Tate at first. But over time, he’d come to realize it was an arrogance that was well deserved. The Mitchell and Madison brothers were extremely intelligent, and two of the hardest-working men Tate had ever met. They’d taken an inheritance from a father both of them had reason to detest, come together on their own to form an unshakable relationship, and built one of the most sought after law firms in Chicago. It was impressive by any standards, and Tate hadn’t wanted to question their intentions; he just wanted to make sure the decision was one both men were a hundred percent happy with.
As Logan walked through the front door, Tate followed inside to the hallway that had been swallowed up by the darkness of the night. He went to reach for the light switch, and as he did he heard a loud thump, and then Logan cursed.
Flicking on the light, he spotted Logan bent over, rubbing his shin where he’d obviously just hit it against a case of wine that had been delivered yesterday. He bit down on his lip trying not laugh and because, damn… Logan had one of the best asses he’d ever seen, and those shorts he was wearing were stretched across it perfectly.
Tate walked up behind him and ran a hand over the seat of the white material, and Logan straightened to look over his shoulder.
“This place is getting too fucking small.”
“It is,” Tate said, then he stepped around Logan and kissed his frowning lips. “You’ve got to be careful. Want me to kiss it better?”
One of Logan’s eyebrows rose. “I’d rather you kiss something else. But if that’s my only choice…”
“It’s definitely not your only choice.” Tate nipped at Logan’s lower lip. “Actually, it’s not your choice tonight at all.”
“Is that right?” Logan said as he swayed forward, reaching for the material of Tate’s shirt, his shin clearly forgotten. “In that case, let me shower first. I want all options available to you.”
As Logan’s teeth found his jaw and his hand found his cock, Tate groaned in the back of his throat. He’d wanted to undress Logan since they’d arrived at the Madisons that afternoon. And he’d told himself that once he got Logan alone tonight, he was going to be the one to do the taking—and he would be damned if Logan rushed or turned the tables on him. No matter how much he wanted to drop to his knees for him right then.
“Okay. Shit…” Tate said, pulling away and running a hand over his eager erection. When Logan bared his teeth in a wolfish grin, the look was so smug it made Tate want to shove him against the wall and teach him a lesson. But that wouldn’t work; he wanted this to be longer than five minutes. He wanted to lose himself in the man who’d now walked past him and was heading across the living room.
As he watched Logan go, he fought back the impulse to immediately follow. “I’ll be there in a minute. I just want to get a drink of water.” And calm my dick down so I can take my time and enjoy you.
Logan reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up his torso and over his head. When he reached the door of their bedroom, he fa
ced Tate, bundled the material, and tossed it at him.
“Don’t make me wait too long,” he said as he undid the button of his shorts, and Tate let his eyes roam down to Logan’s hands.
Of course he thinks he’s running the show tonight. Time for a reality check. Tate brought Logan’s shirt up to his nose and inhaled. Jesus, he always smells unreal. When Logan cursed, Tate looked over and caught his gaze—it was blazing. Logan looked ready to cross back to him and fuck him where he stood. But before he could do that…
“I’m going to hang on to this,” Tate said, and Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You better go take that shower. You’re on my time tonight. And Logan? You’re going to wait until I’m good and ready to take you. Got it?”
Logan touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip as though in deep concentration, then gave the smallest of nods. “Oh, I got it.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you soon.”
As a final good luck trying to resist this, Logan shoved his shorts down his hips and kicked them at Tate, before he turned around and walked bare-assed into the bedroom, calling out, “Yes. You will.”
LOGAN WAS IN AND out of the shower in record time, and as he finished running the towel over his hair, he took in several breaths, trying to calm his thudding pulse. After that bossy fucking order and the tone with which Tate had issued it, he was finding it difficult not to get himself off before he saw him again just so he wouldn’t ruin whatever Tate had in mind for him.
Tossing the towel on the floor, Logan ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it back from his face, and then headed out of the en suite fully expecting to find Tate in their bed, or at least the bedroom—but he was nowhere in sight. The lamp on the bedside table had been switched on, but other than that, the duvet and pillows remained untouched, and when he looked over to the doorway, he saw that all the lights out in the living room had been switched back off.
“Come out here.”
Tate’s authoritative voice drifted through the air of the condo and found Logan, and when he looked down his nude body to his engorged cock, he thought, Yeah…a controlling Tate does this to me every damn time. With a sure stride, he headed out of their bedroom to see the balcony curtains had been left open so the lights from the city illuminated the space, and there, sitting on their couch, was the man issuing the orders tonight. Tate’s feet were bare, but beyond that he still wore all of his clothes—something that would soon be rectified, if Logan had any say in the matter.
As Logan walked across the room, his feet sank into the plush rug they’d purchased a year or so ago, and Tate’s eyes tracked him. Beside him on the couch was a bottle of lube, and when Logan stopped in front of him, he saw that Tate held the shirt he’d tossed at him earlier over his lap.
“You’re a little overdressed for the occasion, aren’t you?” Logan asked.
Tate said nothing as his eyes roved over him, and the perusal felt like an actual caress with the way it made Logan’s dick throb. Then Tate moved the shirt aside to reveal his shorts were unzipped and pushed down enough that his flushed cock was on display, pointing up toward its owner.
He’s been using my shirt to get himself off? That perverted fucker. God, I love him.
“Jesus, Tate,” Logan said, fisting his own dick as he took a step closer like he was hypnotized, and when Tate raised the shirt to his nose and inhaled what Logan could only imagine was his cologne and Tate’s pre-cum, he almost lost it.
Fuck, that’s hot. So. Fucking. Hot.
Logan aimed his eyes down at Tate’s erection and said, bold as ever, “I want that.”
Tate tossed the shirt aside, wrapped his fingers around his length, and stroked. “Where?”
Logan raised his eyes to Tate’s and managed, “Huh?”
“I said, where do you want it?”
Logan swallowed at the ragged tone of Tate’s voice. “Anyfuckingwhere you want to put it.”
“That’s a generous offer.”
“What can I say,” Logan said, as Tate spread his legs so he could step between them. “I’m in a very generous mood.”
Tate punched his hips up, shoving his cock through his fist, then aimed a filthy look up at Logan. “Glad to hear it. ’Cause I’m in a bit of a selfish mood, and I feel like using you—all night.”
Fine by me. Logan dropped to his knees and placed his hands on Tate’s upper thighs as he peered up at the man who seemed determined to drive him crazy. “Start with my mouth,” Logan suggested, reveling in the switch of roles, enjoying the game he knew they were about to engage in and both win. And when Tate released his straining length to reach for the back of his wet hair, Logan grunted at the fingers spearing through the strands.
With Tate’s eyes locked on his, Logan waited for whatever instruction he was about to issue next, and, as always, Tate didn’t back down. He told Logan exactly what he wanted, and hell if Logan didn’t get off on knowing he’d been the one to teach Tate exactly what that was over the past four years.
“I want to feel the back of your throat against the head of my cock. And I want to see that feral fucking look that hits your eyes when you do it.”
God. Damn. It. There was something to be said for finding your exact equal when it came to sex. Logan had always known he was a deviant. He’d always been curious by nature and open to trying anything to get as close as possible to the person he was with. But then Tate had come along, and that need to be one with another had been ratcheted up about one thousand times.
There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t try with Tate, nothing he wouldn’t do to please him, and while that may seem crazy under normal circumstances, the absolute need and compatibility they shared was so in tune with one another’s desires that Logan never once questioned it. He merely accepted it as part of who they were.
Tate tugged on his hair, and Logan didn’t need any more urging to move than that. He was up on his knees and tracing his tongue along the veiny underside of Tate’s length, and the guttural sound that filled the air had Logan dipping his head down to do it again. Tate’s fingers flexed, and when they twisted so he could direct Logan exactly where he wanted him, Logan moved one of his hands from the thigh he was braced on and used it to shove Tate’s shirt out of his way.
As he swirled his tongue around the glistening tip of Tate’s cock, Logan dug his other fingers into the thigh under his palm, and then he opened his mouth and swallowed Tate to the back of his throat.
“Jesus. Logan,” Tate growled, but Logan didn’t let up. He’d been given an order, and hell if he wasn’t about to follow it. He moved his lips up and down, and then aimed his eyes at Tate per the request, and without him having to say a word, Tate got the message. He thrust his hips up, shoving between Logan’s lips to the back of his throat, and Logan was in danger of coming without one touch to his aching dick.
Tate’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his jaw clenched, and the physical reaction followed by a curse had Logan repeating the move until Tate’s head fell back against the cushion and he was pumping his hips up and down.
Logan shut his eyes and continued to suck, enjoying the salty taste hitting his tongue until he knew Tate was precariously close to not being able to hold back, then he removed his lips and looked up at the man he knew he would never get enough of.
With his white shirt unbuttoned midway down his chest, Tate’s tanned skin peeked through. The bottom of the material was crumpled to shit after the way Logan had been fisting it, and was shoved aside to reveal Tate’s open shorts and plump cock, now wet and slick from Logan’s mouth. His hair was all over the place, and Tate’s lips looked swollen from where he’d been biting on them to hold back his groans.
Damn, he’s a sight, Logan thought as he sat back and clamped a fist around his cock, trying to calm himself.
As Tate’s eyes slowly opened, his lips parted and he slicked the tip of his tongue over the top one, and Logan thought he’d just about die if he couldn’t kiss him in the next few seconds. Then Tate scooted to
the edge of the couch and raised a hand. He crooked his finger at him, and in an instant Logan was on his feet and stepping forward.
Logan’s cock jutted out toward Tate, who took his hips between his hands and guided him as close as he could get him. It was Logan’s turn now to push his fingers through Tate’s hair as he pressed a kiss to his right hip.
“Tonight,” Tate said, his warm breath ghosting over Logan’s taut skin, “I want you in my lap.” When Tate found and held his stare, the depraved glint that entered his eyes made Logan swallow. “I want to watch your face when your ass swallows my cock and you ride me.”
“Shit,” Logan said. “You’re really asking for it to—”
Tate chose that moment to suck the tip of Logan’s erection, making him forget the word he’d been about to say.
A rush of air left Logan’s lips, as Tate then released him and sat back on the couch with a smirk so he could shove his shorts off. Once they were gone and he was left naked from the waist down, Logan was on him in a heartbeat, moving to straddle his lap.
As his knees flanked either side of Tate’s hips, Logan’s bare ass rested on those strong thighs he’d been hanging on to earlier, and he reached for the couple of buttons left holding Tate’s shirt together. Once he had them undone, he parted the material and ran his fingers down Tate’s chest and abs to where that phenomenal cock was being worked, and with their eyes connected, Logan wrapped his fingers around Tate’s and whispered, “Let me.”
As Tate removed his hand, Logan replaced it with his own, then leaned in and gently nipped at Tate’s jaw. “You better get your fingers in me soon, Tate, if you want tonight to happen in the order you specified.”
Tate’s hands smoothed up Logan’s sides and then back down to cup his ass, and with a rough tug, he brought Logan’s body flush to him.
“Bossy fuck,” Tate said.
“As if you’re not,” Logan said. “You want it as bad as I do. Your cock is making a fucking mess all over my hand.” Then he brought his fingers up and licked them clean, before taking hold of Tate’s chin and claiming his mouth in a fierce and filthy kiss.