Tate’s lips morphed into a grin that was full of mischief and sex as his fingers curled the best they could around the hard-on inside his boxers.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, and Logan decided that the time for waiting was over.

They’d been given the go-ahead from the doctor, and ever since then, he’d wanted nothing more than to get back inside his man.

He took ahold of Tate’s jacket and tugged him forward for a kiss before stepping around him. When Tate turned, his legs hit the small stool near the table, and he moved to the side of it. Logan then backed him up until his ass bumped the edge of the vanity and he could box him in and get between his legs.

“Maybe I need to prove it,” Logan said, removing his glasses and placing them on the counter. Then he slid his hands into Tate’s hair and tilted his face up. Since Tate was half seated, Logan found himself hovering over him, and he loved the position.

“Maybe you do,” Tate dared him.

Logan lowered his head, and when their lips were only a whisper apart, he suggested, “Maybe you should take off my pants and see for yourself.”

Needing no further invitation, Tate undid his belt buckle, and his eyes darkened as he then unbuttoned his pants. Tate’s mouth curved at the edges, enjoying the tease, because this time was different. This time, they both knew—I’m going to end up inside him.

He looked behind Tate to the mirror and groaned at the visual he got. He flexed his fingers in all of those windblown curls, and it reminded him of that night months ago at Whipped. The night where Tate had danced up against him.

He also remembered the explicit fantasy he’d had of taking him that way—naked, in front of a mirror. A fantasy he was about to make a reality.

“Stand up,” he said as he released Tate’s hair and took a step back.

After shrugging out of his jacket, Logan threw it on the bed behind him. Tate was toeing off his shoes now that he’d removed his coat and tossed it on the floor. Then he brought his hands to his pants.

“No,” Logan said. “Just the sweater for now.”

Tate paused for only a second and then used his left hand to pull the sleeve down his right arm. The doctor had told him not to raise it unless need be, but other than that, everything should be working just fine.

Logan watched him pull the top over his head and loved the image of him in just his pants. Tate’s olive skin always had him wanting to run his tongue over it, and the sight of him with no shirt had him springing into action to get as naked and as close to that body as possible. Kicking his shoes off, Logan finished undressing and then straightened to see Tate palming himself through his pants, watching him with hungry eyes.

He knew exactly what Tate was feeling. It’d been too long. Way too long since he’d been able to let go and take him the way he used to. He ached to sink his body inside Tate’s, and Logan knew he was aching for it too.

“Do you remember that night we went dancing?” he asked, and as Tate nodded, Logan trailed his fingertips down his smooth chest to his navel. “You spent the entire time grinding all over my cock, and I promised myself that, one day, I’d see you like that. Naked and pressed up against me in front of a mirror. Then I could see every mouthwatering inch of you.”

Understanding dawned in Tate’s eyes.

Then Logan whispered, “Take off your pants, Tate.”

Tate unfastened his pants, and Logan couldn’t help but wrap his arm around his waist and stroke the crack of his ass, easing his finger down to graze it over his vulnerable hole.

“Today’s that day. Turn around.”

Tate felt hypnotized by Logan’s voice and the finger massaging him, but without question, he turned. He hadn’t even thought twice about the mirror, which pretty much extended along the entire length of the dividing wall, but when his eyes found Logan’s in it, he wondered how he’d overlooked the possibilities.

Tate watched avidly as Logan pulled him flush against his groin, fitting his ass exactly where he’d said it had been that night—over his cock. He then leaned back against his chest, feeling a shiver skate up his spine as Logan’s warm breath ghosted over his ear.

“So sexy,” Logan rasped, snaking an arm around his waist to dip his fingers into the front of his open pants. “You’re so fucking sexy, Tate.”

When Logan’s fingers wrapped around him and stroked, a groan of pure pleasure pulled from his throat.

“Like that?” Logan asked as he did it again.

“Yes,” he sighed and caught Logan’s eyes in the mirror. “Do it again.”

“Or maybe like this?” Logan suggested, drawing his fist up to the tip of him, where he twisted his wrist in a way that had his toes curling into the plush carpet under foot.

“Oh, hell,” he cursed and grabbed Logan’s forearm. He turned his head to capture Logan’s mouth, and as their lips met, he pushed his cock back through the strong fist working him.

Tate wrenched his mouth free when Logan’s other hand moved to the base of his throat, where he held him in place and started to press fervent kisses down the side of his neck to his shoulder. As he scraped his teeth along the top of it, Tate dug his fingers harder into the arm holding him. Logan raised his eyes to meet his in the reflection, and it was all he could do to keep his knees from buckling.

The expression in Logan’s eyes was wild. It was proprietary, and as he continued to take in the rest of the picture they made, Tate watched those full lips curve against his shoulder.

“I’m going to enjoy this for so many reasons,” Logan told him. “But one of them will be watching your face when you finally see how good we look together—fucking.”

Goddamn. Tate knew how hot the gay porn had made him. Watching two guys going at it had been extremely arousing. So just thinking about how sexy Logan must look while fucking him had him really excited. It was a reaction he couldn’t hide from the man behind him, because as soon as the idea had been planted, Tate jacked his hips forward, trying to get more friction on his dick.

“Oh, yeah. See?” Logan whispered, his voice husky. “You like that idea, don’t you? Watching us fuck?”

Hell fucking yes, I do, he thought. But instead of saying it, Tate turned his head and kissed Logan’s filthy-talking mouth, which was still issuing promises so hot they almost melted him to the ground. He heard an agonized sound of arousal that matched his own, and then his body and his lips were released. Logan’s scorching, blue eyes found his and he simply said, “Watch.”

Logan dragged his eyes away from Tate’s and ran them down the length of his spine. The guy’s skin is fucking delicious, he thought as he smoothed his palms down his sides and placed a kiss at the base of his neck. Tate’s hair tickled his nose, and Logan smiled as he started to trace his tongue down the long line of him. When he got to the curve of his lower back, he slipped his fingers into the black pants and crouched to pull them over the rise of Tate’s ass.

As he dragged them and his boxers to his ankles, Tate’s eyes found his in the mirror. He put a hand on the side of the vanity to balance himself and then lifted his foot without the need for instruction.

Once Tate’s remaining clothes were gone, Logan let the connection between them be severed so he could focus on the ass he was now eye level with. He ran his index fingers up the insides of Tate’s legs to behind his knees, and when he got to them, he flirted there for a moment, drawing invisible circles.

“Tate?” he asked, moving so he could rest his temple against Tate’s hip.

“Yeah?”

Logan turned his head and nipped at the smooth skin of his hipbone. “I can’t see when I’m down here,” he explained, and then he turned back to Tate’s heated gaze in the mirror. “So you’re going to have to tell me what I’m missing.”