“Was it…you know, okay?”
Logan slid down the door until his ass was on the floor. “You literally made my knees give out.”
Tate leaned forward, but before he kissed Logan, he stopped.
“What?” Logan asked with a raised brow.
“Do you care if I kiss you…you know, after you just—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Logan grabbed him and took his mouth in a tongue-thrusting kiss.
Tate moaned with pent-up frustration and followed Logan until his back hit the door with a loud thump.
“I have to go back to work.”
“Be sick,” Logan suggested.
“All of a sudden?”
“Yes, yes. Be sick and come home, so I can do something about this,” Logan proposed, reaching down to milk Tate’s cock.
“I can’t. It’s too busy. Oh God,” he sighed as Logan’s hand continued working him. “God…stop. It’s gonna be hard enough to work with you sitting out there.”
“Yeah?” Logan teased as he released him.
Tate pushed away and stood up. “Yeah. Don’t fuck with me out there.”
“Hmm, okay. Maybe I can wait until I get you home. Come on, aren’t you curious yet?”
Tate didn’t know how to answer that. He was curious, especially after last night. He could admit that much, but he wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud. Plus, he knew the minute Logan was aware that he’d even entertained the possibility, he would be screwed—both literally and figuratively. So, he decided to ignore the question.
“Logan?”
“Yeah?” Logan responded from where he was busy tucking his damp shirt into his pants and zipping them.
“That was kind of insane.”
Logan looked over to him as he stilled. “In a good way?”
Tate nodded as he straightened his own shirt and watched Logan buckle his belt. “Yes, in an I-want-to-do-it-again way.”
Once Logan was as put-together as he could get, he strolled forward, and with no hesitation at all, he kissed Tate hard. “Feel free to get on your knees for me whenever you want. I’ll never complain.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he confirmed.
Tate laughed. “You’re too easy, you know that, right? You should play hard to get every now and then.”
Logan shrugged, and Tate caught himself wishing that he were that sure of himself.
“Why, when I know what I want?”
“And that is?” Tate asked, not really knowing why he needed the verbal confirmation, but he did.
“Are you fishing, Tate?”
“Maybe,” he answered.
When Logan moved around behind him, he felt a shiver skate down his spine.
Prickly stubble brushed by his ear and warm lips sucked on his lobe as Logan worked to reassure him. “I want you, and I want to be inside you.” He pulled Tate back, so he could roll his hips against him. “Admit it, you’ve thought about it by now. You can tell me.”
“How did this happen, Logan?” Tate questioned almost breathless as Logan’s mouth both aroused and did its best to coerce.
“This?”
Tate nodded as he pushed his hips back, so he could feel the ridge of Logan’s shaft against him. There was no way he would get rid of his hard-on until the man released him and left the room.
“Yeah, me giving a guy head.”
“And loving it?”
“Yes, and loving it. How did that happen?” he asked again, truly mystified.
Logan let him go, chuckling as he made his way to the door where he unlocked it and looked back at him. That was when Logan told him the one thing that Tate knew was the absolute truth. “You met me.”
Chapter Nineteen
After he and Tate washed up in the break room, Logan was the first to step out into the narrow hall, and as the door shut behind him, Amelia was the first person he saw.
“Well, well, well. I see you ended up having better luck in convincing our man in there.”
Logan couldn’t explain why her comment grated him as much as it did. But he was pretty fucking positive it was the way she had said our man.
Logan rearranged his knotted tie and walked across the space between them, stopping a few inches from her. “When I set my mind to something, I don’t stop until I succeed. What can I say?”
Amelia pushed away from the wall, and raising her hands, she placed them on his chest where she ran them up to his shoulders. “So, now that you’ve had him, he’s free game, right? Have to say, he’s definitely someone I’d like to play with. Those eyes and all that sexy hair—he’s gorgeous. Since he isn’t open to the three of—”
“Amelia?” Logan interrupted as one of her hands slid into his hair where she curled her fingers.
“Yeah?”
Logan bent down by her ear and warned, “Keep your hands off him. He’s mine, and I’m not sharing him.”
Just as those words left his mouth, Logan heard the door behind them open. He was about to back up when the word, “Typical,” reached his ears, and it didn’t come from Amelia.
Stepping away from the woman in front of him, he turned to see Tate. Now fully put-together in his work uniform, he shot daggers at them both, and as Logan moved toward the man, Tate shook his head and spit at him, “Don’t fucking bother.”
As usual, the annoyance radiating off of him just made him look hotter and Logan hornier. He knew what Tate was thinking as he stood there, looking from Amelia to himself, and there was no way Logan was going to let him continue along that line. So, instead of heeding the warning to back off, he walked closer and watched in silent fascination as Tate made a move to dodge him.
Completely forgetting Amelia was even in the hall with them, Logan followed Tate’s side step and shifted to the left until they were toe-to-toe. Tate glowered at him, and the lips that had just been wrapped around him only minutes ago twisted into an angry snarl.
“Move,” he snapped.
Logan felt his adrenaline spike at Tate’s demand. “No.” He walked closer until Tate’s back hit the wall.
“You’re incapable of keeping your mouth and your zipper shut, aren’t you? What was it? Two seconds after being with me, and you’re out here, trying to score? Fuck you.”
Logan’s own temper was starting to ride him now as he told the jealous man in front of him, “You’ve done that, remember? Just last night, and you told me you didn’t have time right now.”
Tate seemed to have forgotten their audience as well. Logan knew he would have never talked the way he was now if he remembered that Amelia was there. For Logan, that was his cue to remind Tate of exactly who he wanted.
“Get away from me until you can keep your dick in your pants.”
That was when Logan lost his patience. He raised his hands and pushed Tate’s shoulders into the wall behind him.
“My cock is in my fucking pants, exactly where I put it after you finished sucking me off a minute ago. Wow, Tate, when did you turn into such a little bitch?”
Logan figured that comment would get him a fist in the face with Tate’s fulminating expression, but it didn’t. Instead, Tate’s focus shifted past his shoulders and obviously latched on to Amelia, who Logan was sure was watching avidly. Then, Tate’s returned his gaze back to his.
“Back off,” Tate barked, his hard and fast breaths pushing his chest against Logan’s.
Logan connected their hips and noticed Tate was either still excited from earlier or newly turned-on since starting their argument.
“No.”
“Logan,” Tate warned.
Logan didn’t care. If Tate wanted proof of exactly whom he was interested in, he had no problem showing him.
“Tate.”
“Get the fuck off me!”
Logan raised a hand from Tate’s shoulder and pushed it up into the hair that Amelia had been talking about only seconds earlier. He yanked Tate’s head close and bit his bottom lip. “I will—after.”
“After?”
“After I remind you.”
With that, Logan brought his mouth onto the angry one in front of him.