“Earlier tonight, you told me that I was your biggest truth, but that’s not right. You know what the biggest truth is, here in this room?”

Logan looked down at their bodies and then back at him. “Other than the glaringly obvious?”

“Yes. Other than that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“The biggest truth is that we’re both trying something new, and you know what?”

Logan’s face changed and became serious at that comment. “What?”

“We both love it.” Tate’s eyelids lowered, and he gestured with a tilt of his chin. “Get in bed, Logan. I want you.”

Tate watched as Logan climbed into the bed and lay down on his back. He turned his head on the pillow, his black hair stark against the white, as he reached out his free arm and crooked his finger at him.

“Come here.”

Placing his knee onto the mattress, Tate took the bottle of lube in his hand, poured some into his palm, and gripped his erection, stroking it several times.

God, he liked this man. In fact, Tate thought he was pretty damn amazing, and that was when it hit him. Somehow, this man is perfect for me. Tate brought his eyes back to Logan’s face. How can that be? And more importantly, how am I okay with the fact that my perfect person is a, him?

But as Logan stared back at him and Tate crawled between his legs, he knew without a doubt that he was. Kneeling between Logan’s thighs, Tate’s heart started to pound.

Logan’s lips tipped up, and a smile split his mouth. “What are you thinking about?”

Tate laid down over him, and as Logan’s mouth parted and that sexy bottom lip pouted out, Tate couldn’t help but take a gentle bite of it, watching as his eyes slid closed.

“You don’t want to know. It would terrify you.”

Logan’s eyes opened immediately. “Really? That bad?”

Tate rocked his hips on top of the body under him. “Really. That good. Now, shh, would you?”

Raising himself up and over Logan, Tate gripped his cock in his hand and directed himself toward Logan’s waiting body. Logan bent his legs, and Tate easily slipped inside the man and groaned, lowering his head into the crook of Logan’s neck.

Resting his forearms by Logan’s head, Tate began to move slowly in and out of him.

“Tate,” Logan sighed, turning his head until his face was nestled in against his hair.

Tate closed his eyes from the pleasure of having him there. Bumping his hips back and forth, he threaded his fingers into Logan’s hair, and he raised his head to look down into a face, full of emotion and desire.

As Logan raised his knees and wrapped his legs around Tate’s waist, he whispered, “Terrify me.”

Tate’s breath caught in his throat at the sincerity in those two words. The look on Logan’s face was one of absolute ecstasy, and every time Tate pulled out of him and then pushed back inside, a breath of air left from Logan’s lips.

“So perfect,” Tate praised as he stared down, captivated by the face that had become essential to him.

He fingered the black hair in his hands as Logan’s palms trailed down his spine to his ass where he caressed him before pulling him closer.

“Tate. Tate…Tate,” Logan chanted.

Tate picked up his pace, and he knew he had him.

Kissing his ear, Tate snaked an arm down between them, taking Logan’s dripping cock and stroking it.

“Gonna make you come, Logan. Come on, I want to feel it. Hot and sticky all over me. All over us.”

“Oh God!” Logan rammed up, slamming their hips together.

Tate started to pump into him, and he felt his balls tingle, threatening to explode on every downward glide, while Logan’s fingers grabbed his hips, pulling him closer against his needy body.

“So good, Tate. So, very fucking good.” Logan praised as his body tensed under him, and his hips pushed up. A throaty growl left Logan, and the veins in his neck pulsated as he arched back in an explosive release, and the sight was enough to make Tate want to come. As Logan came down from his high, his eyes opened, languid and full of desire, and his mouth curled as Tate quickly pulled out of him and rolled the condom off his body. Tate grabbed the lube and poured some into his hand as he kneeled between Logan’s legs, running his gaze over the other man.

Logan licked his lips and started to run his fingers through the sticky mess on his stomach as he murmured, “Perfect, sexy Tate. First time I saw you, I wanted you under me. Are you ever going to let me have you?”

Tate felt his breath coming fast at the thought of what Logan was proposing, but he was beyond talking now. As he continued pumping his cock furiously, Logan quickly sat up and kneeled in front of him. Reaching down between them, Logan took him in his strong hand now covered in his own cum.

Pressing his lips against Tate’s, Logan promised, “I want to lay you on your back and kiss and lick every inch of your body, and then, Tate…” He paused, biting Tate’s lip. “I’m going to take you, and you’re going to love it.”

Just like that, Tate came all over the both of them with a shout and a sharp punch of his hips with no other thoughts except how amazing his orgasm was and how much he wanted Logan to take him that way. He could feel Logan’s hand soothing his sensitive skin as his lips kissed and sucked their way down his neck.

Tate almost whimpered when Logan let go, and he raised his hand to Logan’s cheek where he leaned in and kissed him.

When Tate finally pulled his mouth back, Logan whispered, “Stay?”

“Yes,” Tate replied easily.

“Good. I want you to stay.”

Tate leaned in again and gently pressed his mouth to Logan’s. “Then, I’ll stay.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The following morning, as they stood outside of The Daily Grind, Logan looked over to where Tate was leaning back with one of his feet propped up against the brick wall and a cigarette in his hand.

Usually, this kind of thing did nothing for him, but as Logan moved in beside Tate, he had to admit the look Tate had going reminded him a little of James Dean, and it was flat-out sex.

The white shirt, jacket, and jeans—not to mention, the black steel-toed boots—with the wind-ruffled curls all meshed together in just the right way to make Logan’s palms itch to touch. Logan squinted against the rising sun as Tate glanced over to him and lifted his hand to take a drag of the nearly finished cigarette.

“Quit it, would you?” Logan ordered at the thorough once-over Tate gave him.

“Quit, what?”

Logan aimed his eyes at the lips surrounding the tobacco stick. “Staring at me like you just spent the night, naked, in my bed.”

“But I did. I hardly think it’s making you uncomfortable,” Tate stated, lowering his arm, as he straightened off the wall.

“Trust me, uncomfortable is not what it’s making me feel.”

“Mhmm, and since when has that bothered you?”

“Since I’m out on a public street and can’t rectify the issue,” Logan pointed out.

“So, I shouldn’t tell you that you in that suit makes me really fucking excited? I’ve never dated anyone who wears a suit. Well, I’ve never dated a guy, so—”

“Tate?” Logan interrupted shifting his briefcase in front of him to hide the erection he could feel swelling even further between his legs.

“Yeah?”

“Stop it.”

Tate laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort, as he turned to press the butt of his cigarette into the tall, cylindrical black ashtray by the door.

“No, I don’t think I will. I had to deal with this shit from you for a week before you finally told me what the hell you were looking at.”

Logan stepped around him and pushed his face in close to Tate’s. “I thought I was more than obvious. I was looking at you. And by the way, why are you smoking again? Stressed? Nervous?”