“You like that, don’t you?” Logan teased and inched his finger in deeper.

Tate’s lips parted as he nodded. “Yeah.”

Logan took his mouth in a hard kiss, and thrust his finger in all the way, causing a curse to escape Tate as his tight hole clenched around him. He slid his finger in and out of him several times. Then he pulled away to kneel between his thighs.

“Forgive my impatience, but it’s your own fault.” He paused when he saw Tate’s arms wrap around the pillow under him and bring it up against his chest. “Not only are you the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but I know you get super fucking excited when my finger is in your ass. So this time, I’m going to get my cock in you before you explode all over my pillow there.”

A grunt left Tate as his head dropped to the mattress and he jacked his hips back. Logan grabbed his hip to hold him in place and used his other hand to line his cock up. Then he gnashed his teeth together and slowly slid inside Tate’s body.

“Ah, Jesus, Tate,” he growled, and when Tate propelled himself backwards and he sank in all the way, a curse tore from Logan. “Fuck yes. That’s it. Take all of me.”

He ran his palms over Tate’s ass cheeks, spreading them a little, and then up his back before planting his hands by his sides and leaning down to kiss his spine. Tate shifted and his shoulder blades bunched, and Logan smiled against his skin, knowing exactly what he needed.

With his body molded to every inch of the gorgeous one laid out under him, Logan started to move. He pulled his hips back and then began to drive his steely length in and out of Tate, picking up more momentum with each hard thrust.

He kissed and sucked the line of his shoulder as he tunneled deeper with every solid punch of his hips. Tate arched back and turned his head toward him. Looping an arm around his neck, Logan held him in place, spearing his tongue between desperate, hungry lips.

Never had he gone at Tate with such ferocity, and never had Tate craved it like this. But when their mouths parted and their eyes clashed, Tate issued his own request with one simple word.

“Harder.”

Tate clutched the pillow under him as Logan’s cock shoved back inside him with enough force to propel him up the bed. A harsh cry left his throat and he reached out and clenched the corner of the mattress, just as Logan had originally suggested, pulling himself up toward it.

The rhythm of Logan’s body didn’t falter as he followed close behind and stretched out to clasp his hands over the top of his. He entwined their fingers and started to jam his hips against him at an unrelenting pace, and Tate could feel his hot breath against his neck as he panted and cursed with every fuck of his hips.

It was unrestrained, it was passionate, and as Logan’s teeth sank into the skin of his shoulder, Tate thought that it was absolute perfection. Logan had finally let go and was taking him the way Tate knew he’d always wanted.

Every time before this, he’d always been careful, gentle, and somewhat considerate—but not this time.

The man who was plowing into him over and over had lost any decorum his suit and tie afforded and had morphed into a man who was taking exactly what he wanted, how he wanted—and Tate fucking loved it.

“Yes. Harder, Logan,” he rasped and then did as Logan had advised earlier. He clamped his teeth onto the mattress as Logan tensed behind him and shouted his name with a final thrust of his hips.

The high of knowing Logan had just come so spectacularly had Tate pushing back, trying to get more. When Logan pulled out, he almost sobbed at the loss until he was flipped over and Logan wrapped his fingers around his cock.

Without a word, Logan lowered his head over him and took his erection down his throat, causing Tate to buck his hips up in an effort to get closer. His hands started to stroke Logan’s hair, but when Logan’s mouth slid up and down his cock, Tate lost the ability to think and white-knuckled the sheets on either side of him so he could fuck that wicked mouth.

The sounds of pleasure that came from Logan as he greedily swallowed him time and time again drove Tate beyond his sanity. He shut his eyes, letting himself get lost in the moment, and then he gave one final shove down Logan’s throat and came on a thunderous roar. No one had ever come close to understanding what he wanted in bed—not the way Logan did.

Once the calm after the storm had settled, Logan moved up his body, and Tate wrapped his arms around him. As they both lay there, in the silence of the room, neither one of them said a word—because, really, there was nothing to add to such perfection.

Chapter Eight

“Tate?” Logan said softly from where he lay with his head resting on his shoulder. He’d been there for a good hour or so, and when Tate shifted under him, he rolled to his side to see sleepy eyes now opening. “Sorry. I didn't realize you were sleeping.”

“Nah, was just relaxing. You wore me out.”

He placed his lips against Tate’s ear and gently kissed it. “Then my job here is done.”

Tate’s chest rumbled with laughter as he reached across to trace a line along his jaw.

Logan closed his eyes under his touch and then said into the quiet room, “I wanted to tell you before you heard it somewhere else… Chris was at my office today. Cole scheduled the meeting. Probably his way of seeing if I could ‘handle’ him as a client or if he’ll end up being nothing but a nuisance.”

Tate’s fingers paused before he drew them down to his chin and gripped it tight, angling his face up so he was staring directly at him. Logan expected questions—why or what happened—but instead, Tate’s eyes got a look in them that had his heart and dick responding. It was one of annoyance and possession.

And hell, if that doesn’t excite me.

“Did he touch you?”

Logan thought back to that moment in his office and wondered if he should—

“Did he touch you, Logan?” The gruff question and the fingers on his chin were pretty clear indicators that Tate expected an answer—now.

“He grabbed my arm—”

Before he could even finish his thought¸ Tate interrupted. “And?”

“And,” Logan added, “that was all. He wanted to discuss our past. I didn’t. End of story.”

Tate sized him up as if trying to decide whether or not to believe what he was saying, and then he shoved him on his back and loomed over him. Logan felt his heart thundering as he waited for what felt like hours, and then Tate leaned down and pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was quick and hard, like a stamp of ownership, and when he raised his head, he promised, “If he touches you again, I’m going to be the third person to punch that fuck in the face.”

Logan sank his fingers into Tate’s hair and tugged him down to suck his bottom lip. “So possessive. Gotta say, I’m a fan.”

“He wants you back, doesn’t he?” Tate asked as if he hadn’t even spoken.

Logan wasn’t sure if that possibility worried Tate or just pissed him the hell off. Either way, he needed to make sure Tate was aware he didn’t have anything to worry about.

He wrapped his legs around Tate’s waist and gently nipped his way along his jaw to his ear. “If that’s the case, then he’s out of fucking luck. You are who I want, and that’s all that matters.”

“Hmm,” Tate sighed into his neck. “I like that.”

“Good,” he said and smoothed a hand over Tate’s back to his ass. “Because there’s no question, no doubt. Actually, speaking of things we want…”

Tate raised his head, and when they were eye to eye, Logan suddenly lost his nerve. What if I suggest this and he says no?