“Oh fuck. Fuck, Tate.”

Hearing his name being cursed out above him was a major turn-on, but when Logan’s fingers curled in his hair, Tate knew he could become addicted to this. Down on his knees in front of Logan, he held all the power because, right now, Logan was his.

Releasing Logan’s shaft, Tate raised both hands and framed it with his thumbs and fingers. As it pointed out toward him, he sucked the tip back into his mouth, and then he took a deep breath and lowered his lips. He made it as far as he could before drawing up, feeling light-headed from the lack of oxygen.

“Breathe through your nose.”

Tate glanced up, slightly embarrassed, to see Logan staring down at him.

“When you do that again—and please, you have to do it again—breathe through your nose.”

Taking in the instruction, Tate once again lowered his head, but before he sucked him between his lips, he stopped and blew a breath across Logan’s wet skin. It was something he himself always liked, and judging by the hand that pulled his face closer to the cock waiting for him, it was also something Logan liked, too.

* * *

Hell, even when he’s not trying, Tate is a tease.

Every single move he made was designed to turn Logan on even more than he already was—or maybe it was just who was doing it.

As it was, with Tate on his knees and between his thighs, Logan was finding it difficult not to ram his hips forward and slide to the back of Tate’s throat.

Oh yeah, I can’t wait until I can do that, and fucking shoot my load all over his tongue. But Logan didn’t want to freak Tate out, and the slow, tentative way Tate was lowering his lips down him was sweet torture all on its own.

Closing his eyes, Logan concentrated on the small noises he could hear, and the fact that it was Tate making the sucking sounds was almost enough to make him lose it right there. Tate had his lips wrapped around his cock, and it was driving Logan insane to even think about it.

As the man in front of him seemed to grow more confident in his actions, Logan felt one of the hands on his groin move down between his legs, and he couldn’t help the curse that left him when that hand cupped his balls.

“Motherfucker.”

“Hmm,” Tate hummed as if he was—please let him be—enjoying every single thing he was doing.

Clasping Tate’s head, Logan gradually began to move his hips, sliding past the lips tormenting him. The hand between his thighs slowly pushed his balls up as Tate drew his mouth off him and leaned in to press his lips against Logan’s lower abdomen.

Logan hadn’t expect Tate to do anything other than what was the necessary, but as he stood there, Tate shoved his damp shirt aside and ran his tongue over the muscles beneath his navel. He rooted his nose in against Logan’s skin as though he loved the smell of him, and then with a hand on Logan’s balls and his chin bumping against his erection, Tate raised his eyes to meet with his.

The look of absolute lust and acceptance at what he was doing made Logan want to strip him of his clothes and take Tate on the floor—fuck the fact that he was at work. Instead, he took Tate’s head with both hands and urged him up his body. Logan wanted his mouth.

When Tate got to his feet, Logan attacked his lips, lowering one hand to the man’s ass and keeping one on his head. Tate’s body slammed against his, and he could feel the erection inside of Tate’s pants as he thrust hard against him.

Logan tasted the mouth that had just been wrapped around him, and as Tate sucked on his tongue, his hands found Logan’s tie, trying to loosen it. As he worked it free of the knot, so it hung loosely, Tate removed his mouth and lowered his lips to Logan’s neck.

Logan’s head thunked back on the door, and his cock continued to rub over Tate’s clothing as he heard the labored breathing by his ear.

“Congratulations,” Logan heard whispered as Tate’s hand snaked down between them, and his fingers wrapped around him.

“On?” he pushed past the lump in his throat.

Tate raised his head and looked him right in the eye. “Corrupting me.”

“I corrupted you? You’re the one stroking my dick.”

Tate stepped away from him and lowered back down onto his knees. “Yes, and you’re the one who convinced me to try, and now, I can’t seem to fucking stop.”

Logan’s mouth curved as he ran his finger down Tate’s stubble to his chin where he traced the masculine lips. “Then, by all means, don’t.”

* * *

Tate had been telling the truth. He couldn’t get enough of Logan as he opened his mouth and felt him slide back in along his tongue. Concentrating on his breathing, Tate closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Logan, using his mouth in a way he’d never done before. It was a unique experience—to be giving something and knowing exactly how good it felt to be the one receiving it. Tate knew how it felt to fuck a hot, willing mouth. Shit, he knew how good it was to slide into Logan’s.

Placing his hands on Logan’s legs, Tate felt the power of the muscles flex beneath his palms. Everything about what he was doing was arousing him—the cock between his lips, the soft grunts he could hear coming from Logan, and the hands holding him still, so his mouth could be used. Oh yeah. He hadn’t been lying. This was exactly what he wanted, and there was no way he was stopping.

Trailing his left hand down between Logan’s thighs, Tate moved his fingers in under his balls and pushed a single digit between those hot ass cheeks, and the reaction was immediate. The hands on his head jerked him closer as Tate’s finger burrowed higher until he found the warm hole he was searching for. When the tip of his finger touched against Logan, Tate lifted his vision to find Logan staring at him as he huffed through parted lips and continued to jam his hips forward, making sure he filled Tate’s mouth.

Tate, curious to see how Logan would react, slid his fingertip inside the other man and watched as Logan bared his teeth at him. His eyes narrowed as his ass clenched around Tate’s finger, and then Logan shoved as deep as he could go, making Tate cough and falter. As Logan seemed to realize what had happened, he began to pull out, but Tate chased him and took him back inside, craving that kind of intense reaction.

Gone now was the tease. Gone was the lesson on the hows and whys. Now came the need—the need to finish, the need to come, and the need to be part of the other person.

As Tate felt his cheeks become damp, he realized his eyes must have been watering, but he was determined, and he wanted this. When Logan looked down at him, Tate made sure to swirl his tongue around the cock pulled from his mouth.

“I’m really close, Tate. If you don’t want this—”

Tate didn’t answer verbally. Instead, he slid his lips forward over Logan until the other man got the message and started up a fast rhythm of pumping in and out of his mouth.

Nothing had prepared Tate to feel as he did while he knelt before Logan with his mouth full and his fingers moving. As he watched the man above, who’d somehow crawled under his skin, he realized he was feeling things way beyond sex. He realized that the sex would never have happened if there wasn’t more there for him, and just as that realization hit him, Logan’s fingers twisted in his hair.

The cock in Tate’s mouth pulsated, and then a hot jet of salty fluid hit his tongue, shocking his taste buds. He pulled his lips off the man in front of him, and even though he hadn’t expected the heat or the flavor, Tate found his curiosity made him swallow.

“Jesus, you swallowed, too? You are perfect.”

Tate’s eyes crawled up the relaxed-looking Logan, and when they met, Tate touched his tongue to his bottom lip.