And that’s what it really comes down to, he thought. My cock wants Logan. I want Logan. Hell, standing here in the same bathroom, thinking about him naked, turns me on more than anything or anyone else.

Just as that thought slammed home with the force of a Mack truck, the water shut off, and the glass door slid open.

* * *

Logan had resisted the urge to spend too long under the warm spray, instead wanting to get out and find Tate—or more importantly, make sure that Tate hadn’t left. Lathering up all the important areas, he then rinsed off and pulled the door back, ready to go and hunt down the other man.

That wasn’t necessary though. Tate was standing in the bathroom, up against the vanity, with his arms and legs crossed, staring directly at him.

“Hello,” Logan stated calmly, not wanting to spook Tate, as he ran a hand through his hair.

Tate shifted his hips against the counter, lowering his eyes to zoom in on—

Yep, my now swelling cock.

“Hi.”

Not possessing one shy bone in his body, including the one standing tall and erect, Logan stepped out of the shower and walked steadily toward the man who was frozen against his sink. When he was close enough that he was dripping water onto Tate’s jeans, Logan stopped and waited for Tate to look at him.

Slowly, Tate raised his head, and the heated connection they shared, was what had Tate shifting off the vanity. Logan was sure it happened much sooner than it seemed but as Tate’s fully clothed body brushed up against his naked thighs, and—fuck yes—his cock, Logan bit back a curse.

Deciding he needed to speak or he’d end up humping Tate’s leg, Logan stated, “I thought you wanted to take a shower.”

“I decided I wanted something else.”

Hell, how does this guy always shake my steady footing?

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

He watched Tate reach out a seriously shaky hand to trace a line down the center of his chest. The rough finger moved between Logan’s pecs and down to his navel where it stopped and flirted with the damp hair just beneath.

“I want to touch you.”

Logan had been all ready to talk around five minutes ago when he’d been in the shower calming himself down. But now? Now, he was ready to go again, and Tate was driving him out of his mind.

Clenching his jaw, Logan stepped forward, muscling Tate back to the sink, and then kept advancing. Tate’s ass hit the edge, and Logan moved slightly, so he had one foot between Tate’s spread ones, and one on the outside of his right thigh. Pressing his naked cock against the rough denim, Logan groaned as he clasped Tate’s arm for support.

Tate shocked the hell out of him by wrapping his arms around his waist and clutching Logan’s bare ass as he hauled him in closer.

Tipping his head back, Logan ground his hips down on Tate’s strong thigh as he growled out, “Jes-us.”

“Fuck,” Tate sighed.

Logan brought his head back up to look Tate in the eye. Parting his mouth, Logan licked his lip and continued to rub himself off on Tate’s leg.

“You still wanna talk?” Logan somehow asked through his lust.

He could feel Tate’s hot breath against his cheek while moving his mouth to Tate’s ear where he bit down gently. “If you want to talk, talk, or I am going to unzip your jeans and rub my cock against that fucking hard-on. And trust me, there will be no talking after that.”

Tate reluctantly released his hold, and Logan slowly took a step back.

“Talk or get undressed, but pick something in the next two seconds, so I don’t lose my goddamn mind.”

* * *

Tate definitely wanted to talk, but as soon as Logan was in front of him, completely naked, wet and erect, his brain had shut down, and his body had taken over.

The man was ripped. From his solid arms to his muscular chest, which had a fine dusting of dark hair, and then his abs and that treasure trail leading down to…

Jesus, how am I supposed to talk? Tate barely had blood left in his brain to remind himself to breathe.

“Can you maybe put some clothes on?”

“No. Next question?”

Tate frowned. “It would help if you put something on.”

“Why? You seemed comfortable enough a moment ago, and if you weren’t, you should have waited for me to get dressed.” Logan reached out, snagged a towel, and dried himself. When he got to his hair, he rubbed it a couple of times before throwing the towel on the floor.

“That’s hardly the problem,” Tate muttered.

Logan moved toward the door leading to the bedroom, and Tate found himself looking at the firm, round ass he had been kneading just minutes ago.

“I didn’t think so. Well, come on then. Let’s get the talking over and done with, so we can move on to the fun part. You know, the part where my cock gets to meet yours?”

As Logan exited the room, Tate shook his head incredulously. The guy really did walk to the beat of his own drum. Stepping away from the sink where his ass had taken up residence, Tate made his way into the bedroom to see Logan lying casually on the mattress with his arms behind his head. He had a sheet draped across his waist, and somehow, Tate was positive that Logan had not put on any clothes.

 “How does this work?” Tate finally voiced the number-one question that had been bugging him.

“Well…” Logan removed one of his hands to lay it down beside him on the bed.

Tate’s eyes were drawn to where Logan’s hand had landed, right beside the discernable tent that had formed under the sheet.

“That depends on what exactly you’re referring to. The first thing that needs to happen is for you to take off your clothes.”

Tate walked over toward the foot of the bed. “Yeah, that much I know, thanks. I’m unsure of the details, smart-ass. You know, like who…” Yeah, saying this is much harder than thinking it.

“Like, who fucks who?”

Apparently, it wasn’t an issue for Logan.

“Jesus, do you have to be so—”

“So, what? To the point? Come on, Tate, that’s the thing you’re most worried about, right?” Logan raised a brow. “I’ll make it really simple. I can’t wait for you to fuck me. Does that clear things up for you?”

It sure as hell does. But somehow, Tate didn’t think that was all there was to it, and he was right.

Logan moved his hand to where the sheet was covering him and started to stroke himself. “For now.”

Tate couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he just stood there with his lips pulled tight.

“Take off your clothes, Tate.”

Tate grabbed the hem of his shirt, removed it swiftly, and threw it off to the side, not even caring where it landed. Tate’s mouth finally parted as Logan started to move his feet, pulling the sheet down, and—

Yeah, the guy didn’t bother with clothes.

As Logan’s nude body came back into view, Tate wondered how it would feel to press his own nakedness against him.

“And the rest,” Logan told him in a voice that seemed to have the same effect as hypnosis.

Tate kicked off his shoes and undid his jeans, removing the rest of his clothes. When he was finally undressed, Logan had both hands down between his thighs. One was jerking his thick shaft, and the other was dipping down to play with his balls. All the while, Logan’s intent gaze focused on Tate’s body.

“Fuck, just stand there. I can do this all day. You don’t have to do anything for me to get off on you.”

Tate felt some of his nerves and apprehension leave as Logan continued pleasuring himself.

“I don’t know when I’ll be ready to…you know, do everything you want,” Tate finally spoke, answering sincerely.

Logan stopped what he was doing and leveled steady eyes on him. “We’ll go as slow as you like.”