“Oh shit,” Logan rasped as Tate rolled his hips against him.

“Can I change my mind?’

“What?”

Logan’s entire body went taut against him. Tate knew what Logan was thinking, but he was so very wrong.

“Can I change my mind?”

“About what? Because if you’re about to stop and tell me to leave, take your goddamn hands off me, and let me go, so I can calm down.”

Tate didn’t do any of that. Instead, he put his lips against Logan’s naked shoulder and smoothed his hands around to trace that sexy V down to Logan’s ready and willing cock. Stroking a fist up Logan’s enlarged length, Tate bit the shoulder under his mouth, hard, as he bucked his hips forward.

“Ah, what the hell?”

Raising his head, Tate put his lips to Logan’s ear and confessed in a voice full of guttural desire, “I don’t want to suck you tonight. I want to fuck you instead.”

Chapter Sixteen

Logan physically stopped breathing as Tate’s words seeped into his brain. It didn’t matter that warm hands were still tormenting him. With the distinct impression of Tate’s arousal outlined to perfection against his naked ass, all Logan could think about were the words, I want to fuck you, coming out of Tate’s mouth.

“Nothing?”

Logan heard the question in Tate’s voice, and it was the truth. He had nothing. Nothing he could say. Never in a million years had Logan thought that this would happen tonight. He’d never expected Tate to want it so quickly. Logan had thought it was going to take a lot of convincing on his side.

“If you don’t want…”

Logan finally made himself turn to face the man who seemed to be second-guessing himself.

“I thought you—”

With one hand, Logan touched his fingers to Tate’s cheek and leaned in to take his mouth. As soon as their lips met, Tate’s parted, and Logan dipped his tongue inside. Stepping closer, he rested his other hand on Tate’s side as the kiss intensified, and desire mounted.

Logan could feel the rough denim abrading his skin as his cock wedged between them, and Tate’s remained confined inside his jeans. Logan pushed his hand down and grappled with the button and then lowered the zipper, all the while still sucking on Tate’s tongue.

Logan parted the jeans, and slid his palm around Tate’s waist, where he dipped his fingers inside his boxers. When Tate’s hands grasped his ass cheeks, Logan smiled against his mouth and made sure to stroke a finger down the warm crease of Tate’s crack.

“Ah,” Tate moaned, pulling his lips away.

“You see,” Logan told him knowingly as he did it again, and Tate’s ass cheeks flexed. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Relax, it’ll feel even better.” He felt Tate’s body physically loosen.

Tracing his finger farther down, he moved back in, so he could gnaw on Tate’s jaw. Logan placed his lips under his chin, and then he did as Tate had done earlier. He started to bite him.

The hands on his own ass were shaping the muscle there as Logan made his way up to Tate’s ear, telling him, “Nothing in the world could make me walk out of your bedroom right now. So, if you really mean it, then you can have it, Tate.”

“Yes. I mean it.”

Logan’s eyes slid closed for a second as he tried to calm himself, but Tate was hell bent on that not happening. The strong fingers behind Logan crept between his cheeks and began to spread him slightly. Feeling his own patience running thin, Logan asked, “Condoms? Lube?”

But Tate wasn’t listening. He was too busy moving his hips against Logan, who was quickly going out of his mind as the erotic massaging continued. Tate began making a sexy grunt-like noise every time their cocks met.

“Tate?”

Glazed eyes found his, and when swollen lips and wild curls faced Logan, he felt his mouth turned up into a smug smile. “You’re one sexy motherfucker when you’re turned-on, you know that?”

“So are you,” Tate voiced in a tone that had dropped several spine-tingling octaves.

“Mmm. Do you have condoms? Lube?”

Tate released his hold on him and shook his head. “I didn’t even think about it. I have lube.”

“And I’ve got condoms.”

The look that crossed Tate’s face was amusing as hell, and Logan turned to locate his jeans.

“That sure, huh?” Logan heard from behind and rounded back just in time to see Tate push his jeans and boxers off his hips and kick them aside. Logan focused on the thick, veiny erection pointing out in front of Tate’s body, and he felt his ass clench in anticipation of having it inside him.

One of the things Logan had missed over the years was a good, hard, fucking. He’d only ever received it from one other before, but as he looked at Tate, he was reminded of the times Tate had wrestled with him and pinned him against a wall. Yes—if anyone could take him on and make him feel it a day later, it would be Tate Morrison.

* * *

Tate walked over to where Logan was holding out the condom packet, took it between his fingers, and issued his invite from earlier, much more confidently this time, “Get in my bed, Logan.”

“Feeling bossy, are we?”

Tate brought the silver square to his mouth where he placed the corner between his teeth and ripped it open. “Horny,” he answered as he pulled out the condom, threw the pack aside, and reached down to roll it on. “I feel horny.”

He noted Logan’s heavy-lidded gaze following the movements of his hand, and then Logan stepped forward and brushed past Tate. As their shoulders touched, Tate looked to the side where Logan had stopped, his mouth pulling into a wicked, sensual smirk.

“You work out at all?”

“Sometimes,” Tate told him, slightly confused, as he watched Logan’s eyes trail down his body and land on the protected stiff cock he was holding in his hand.

“Good, because fucking me is gonna be one hell of a strenuous workout.”

Tate almost came from those words alone as Logan casually walked by him. Turning on his heel, he watched Logan climb up onto his bed, the same bed he had lain in over the last several nights, fantasizing about the guy.

Logan lay down on his back in the middle of the mattress and bent his knees up until his feet were flat, and Tate could see everything, just as he had the previous night. As Tate got up onto the bed and maneuvered himself in between Logan’s knees, he was struck again by just how masculine Logan was. He even had big feet.

Seems there is some truth in that saying—big feet, big cock.

Logan’s erection was thick and long, and as Tate watched the man masturbate in front of him, he couldn’t help but reach down and reciprocate the gesture.

“Let’s skip all the bullshit this time around, huh?” Logan’s words sliced through the silent room.

“Bullshit?”

“Yeah, all the foreplay. You’re hard, I’m hard, and I’ve been thinking about you naked since we first met.”

Tate’s balls tingled as Logan slowly spread his legs for him. He could see Logan’s hand working his shaft, and occasionally, his fingers would move to the sensitive underside to his balls where he’d cup and push them up his body. From this angle, Tate could also see the dark pucker displayed to him every time Logan moved his hips.

“So, how do I do this?”

Logan gave him a look that screamed, Really?

So, he clarified. “I mean, is there something I need to do, so I don’t…you know, hurt you? This will hurt, right? Diana always said—”

“Stop, stop! You’re making me lose my hard-on. No one else is in here, Tate.” Logan sat up in the bed, bringing his knees under him, and leaning forward, he captured Tate’s mouth in a hot kiss. “Just you and me. I’ll show you what to do, so you don’t hurt me.”

Tate rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay.”

“Get the lube.”

As Logan lay back down, Tate moved to the side of the bed and reached down to a small drawer. Coming back up on his knees, Tate let his eyes rove up the six-pack rippling with each movement of the strong arm pumping back and forward.