Letting out a loud curse, Tate froze, trying to rein in the desire to surge forward as Logan started to work his way back on him. He kept one hand around himself while Logan’s ass slowly engulfed more of his shaft, and as Tate watched himself disappearing inside Logan’s body, he felt as if he’d never been as turned-on as he was right then.

“Holy hell,” he whispered like a prayer.

Logan changed directions to slide back off him, and then he started to take him inside once again. With each movement, Logan’s body swallowed him deeper until Tate was finally fully seated, and his balls were pressed firmly against Logan’s heated skin.

Tate remained still as a fucking statue until Logan looked back at him. “Now is the part you should know how to do all on your own.”

That smart-ass comment from the mouth that had teased, taunted, and convinced him into this bed, finally had Tate moving into action. He flattened his palm over Logan’s tailbone and ran it up the man’s spine until he reached his shoulder where he squeezed as he drew his hips back. Sliding his cock out, he then reversed his movement and thrust back inside the tightest, hottest hole he’d ever been in.

“Oh fuck,” was all Tate heard.

He felt the satisfaction and power that came from that response, like a gunshot at the beginning of a race. With his hand on Logan’s shoulder, Tate moved down over the man until his other palm was resting on the bedding, and then he really started to move.

“Logan…damn,” he groaned as his head came down beside Logan’s, and he started to kiss the guy’s ear.

Tate could feel Logan’s thighs tensing against his own as he pushed back against him in steady a rhythm, and as Logan turned his head, and their mouths met in a tongue-thrusting kiss, Tate’s entire body vibrated from, pleasure fucking overload.

He hadn’t even felt this way for Diana, but as his hips moved in quick, shallow thrusts against Logan’s, and his cock tunneled inside his powerful body, Tate knew he’d never felt this before.

“Jesus, Tate. Harder. I’m not gonna fucking break,” Logan barked against his mouth.

Tate’s mouth morphed into a feral grin as he moved back up to his knees behind Logan, and placed both hands on his hips. Spreading his knees so he had steady ground, Tate reached up with one hand and tangled his fingers through Logan’s hair, gripping it and pulling his head back.

“Typical. Even now, you can’t keep that smart-ass mouth of yours shut.”

Logan’s head dropped forward, and Tate let him go as he heard, “Come on, Tate, let me have it.”

Tate withdrew, and this time, since he had permission, he promised softly, “Wish fucking granted.”

That was his only warning to Logan as he slammed his cock hard inside him.

As he picked up speed, he curled down over him, and placed both of his palms on the mattress beside Logan’s. Over and over, Tate pounded into him, and every time he did, Logan’s body chased his in a way that expressed how much it craved the cock plowing into it.

“Fucking hell, Tate. That’s it,” were the words Tate could hear coming from the man underneath him.

As his balls slapped against hot skin, he took in that new feeling, too, and added it to the list of things he loved about fucking Logan Mitchell.

* * *

 Logan was losing his mind. As he lowered his upper body to the mattress below, he could feel Tate’s sweaty chest against his back as he reached down to his lower body and rapidly pumped his cock.

“Tate!” he shouted.

Tate continued jamming his hips into his, driving farther into his ass on every hard downward slide.

There was nothing pretty about this coupling and certainly nothing familiar or practiced. This was a first-time moment for Tate. He was going at him fast and hard, and Logan loved every rough minute of it.

Pushing himself up on his arms, Tate clutched his hips, and Logan looked back and caught eyes with the man who was sliding into him with each sure thrust.

“Jesus, your ass is tighter than anything I’ve ever been inside.”

“And?” Logan challenged, urging Tate to admit what he was feeling.

Tate moved down over him and bit his shoulder as his hips started those fast, shallow digs that—fuck him—hit exactly the right spot.

“And I never want to stop.”

Logan turned his head to take Tate’s mouth, but before he did, he said, “Then, don’t.”

“I don’t plan to,” Tate assured him.

Then, their mouths met as they went at each other like they had been waiting for years instead of days.

It only took minutes this time around, just as Logan had known it would, but within several of them, his own climax raced down his spine to start the familiar ache in his balls that would lead to one amazing orgasm.

Behind him, Tate’s hips moved with much more urgency, and the fingers on his hips threatened to bruise as Tate shouted out an obscenity, and his climax hit him hard. It didn’t take anything more than knowing that Tate had come inside him for Logan to come in a hot spray of creamy fluid all over his hand and Tate’s sheets.

Unbelievable. Have I ever been so goddamn satisfied?

As Tate pulled out of him, Logan winced slightly at the loss of pressure and shifted, so he was lying on his stomach. When he felt the warm chest and Tate’s groin pressed all along the back of him, Logan smiled into the pillow.

“Holy shit,” he heard followed by Tate’s chuckle.

“No kidding,” Logan concurred from under the man stretched out on top of him. He wasn’t about to tell him to move.

“That was unfuckingreal. Did it feel good?”

Logan started to laugh at the absurdity that anyone would have to ask that after the way he had just come, and as his whole body began to shake, Tate rolled off of him and landed in—

Yep, the wet spot.

Tate’s expression of shock and the quick way he moved made Logan’s hilarity increase until he landed on his back and was holding his stomach.

“Yes, you just landed in the proof.”

“I’m glad you find this so funny.”

Tate’s response just made Logan laugh harder. As he turned his head on the pillow to face Tate, Logan couldn’t help the grin he gave him.

“I was just thinking how hard it was going to be to convince you to suck my dick if my cum is so horrifying to you.”

Tate moved then, quicker than Logan expected, and he found himself pinned under him.

“You’d be surprised at what I might do when asked to try.” Tate lowered his head to take Logan’s mouth with his own.

Before their lips connected, Logan ran his hands through all those messy curls and told him, “Truer words have never been spoken. Look at everything you did tonight. So, when do you think I should expect that—”

Tate shook his head, brushing their noses together. “Shut up for a change, would you? And just kiss me.”

Now that Logan could do.

Part Two

Reaction: An emotional or intellectual response to or aroused by a stimulus.

 Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, Logan stood in line at The Daily Grind, waiting to get his much-needed caffeine while thinking about the night before. As far as he was aware, he and Tate had gone from first date to their first time to—

Seeing each other?

That thought alone made Logan almost break out in hives. The idea of tying himself to anyone apparently bothered him more than he’d realized, but he was also willing to try and push past it if that’s what it took to keep Tate around.

With that goal in mind, Logan stepped forward and reached out to take the hand resting by Tate’s leg. As soon as their fingers touched, Tate moved his aside and shook his head once, before stepping away from Logan and up to the counter.