Logan said nothing but rose up on his knees and kissed him hard. There was so much emotion pouring out of him tonight that Tate felt as if he were a second away from triggering an explosion of some sort.

“Logan, tell me. What do you want?”

He felt Logan’s tongue trace his lower lip and then heard him say, “I want to feel you press me down into my mattress and take me.”

Tate straightened and stepped back with one goal in mind—giving Logan exactly what he’d asked for.

“Then stand up.”

* * *

Logan was not the kind to follow orders, but tonight, he wanted Tate in charge.

Up until now, when he’d let Tate lead, it was so he could explore and decide what he liked. But right now, in his current mood, Logan wanted to be taken over.

He wanted to be told what to do, and ultimately, he wanted Tate to be in control.

Logan got to his feet, and when Tate instructed him to keep his hands by his sides and then drew a finger from his mid sternum to his navel, Logan had a hard time doing as he’d been told.

Tate dipped his fingertip into the small indentation and then spoke. “You want me to tell you what to do. Is that it?”

Logan’s cock went rigid. Yes, apparently it was.

“I can do that,” Tate assured him. Then he traced that same teasing finger down his treasure trail to the button of his jeans. “Take off your jeans.”

Logan immediately did as he’d been told. He reached for the button and unsnapped it as Tate backed up. He pushed them down over his hips and then kicked them aside while Tate licked his juicy lips.

“Get on the bed.”

Fuck, fuck…fuck.

Maybe he should have thought this through. It was highly possible that he’d come from the instructions alone before Tate even touched him.

Logan kneeled on the mattress and watched Tate walk, naked as the day he was fucking born, to the end of the bed. He stopped and turned to face him, and as Logan’s eyes boldly traveled over his body, Tate brought his hand to his mouth and licked his palm.

“In the middle, on your knees. No touching. It’s my turn to watch you.”

Logan’s heart was thumping so hard he thought it was a fucking miracle he hadn’t passed out as he moved to the center of the mattress and waited.

Tate lowered his gaze over him, and Logan wondered what he was thinking. He didn’t have to wait though, because the fucker decided to tell him.

“Your body is amazing. This building’s gym definitely pays off,” Tate mused as he wrapped his hand around his cock. “I mean—fuck, Logan. Seriously, your body is impressive. Even if I didn’t want to fuck your brains out, I could appreciate that.”

Logan wasn’t sure he had any brains left to fuck out as he watched Tate steadily start to stroke himself.

Look how far we’ve come.

“How much do you want to touch yourself right now?”

What kind of question is that?

“Answer me,” Tate demanded.

Logan grit his teeth and bumped his fists against his thighs, his erection throbbing in front of him. “I want to touch myself almost as much as I want your cock inside me.”

Tate’s lips twitched, and his hand stilled on his own flesh. “Show me.”

Logan’s brow arched at the demand. Tate’s cheeks were flushed and his lips tightened as he bared his teeth in a feral fucking smile.

“Lie down on your back, spread your legs, and show me how much you want me inside you.”

The idea apparently made Logan’s dick really happy, because he finally had to grip the base of it to get it under control.

“And what are you going to do while I’m showing you?”

Tate placed a knee on the end of the bed and smirked. “Guess you’ll find out when you do what you’re told, won’t you?”

Sexy fucker. If he wants a show, I’ll give him one.

Logan turned, pulled two pillows to the center of the bed, and then lay down on his back with his legs spread apart. Tate was exactly where he’d been when Logan had been on his knees, but his hand was once again stroking.

Logan reached down and began to slowly rub his balls. Tate’s eyes dropped to watch him manipulate his skin, and he bit his bottom lip between his teeth as if trying to hold back a groan. Logan widened his legs a little more under Tate’s inspection and brought his palm up to stroke it over his erection—fuck, it feels amazing.

“Bend your legs. Feet flat on the sheets.”

The hoarse command from Tate came as Logan felt the mattress between his feet dip. His eyes flicked to Tate’s as he climbed onto the bed and knelt between his ankles.

Logan bent his legs at the knees until he was sure Tate could see everything. He was about to bring his hand to his mouth and lick it so he could get a sweet slide going, but Tate halted him.

“No more. Hands by your sides.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, “Why?”

Before he could even think about what Tate meant, he moved farther up the bed and placed his hands on Logan’s inner thighs, pushing them down to the mattress until he was spread wide open.

Logan couldn’t look away as Tate lowered his head and ran his warm, wet tongue over the underside of his cock. He dragged it all the way up to the swollen head, where he clearly enjoyed cleaning up the pre-come he found there.

Logan gripped the sheets on either side of his body and shoved his hips up toward Tate’s mouth. Again, Tate moved back down to where he’d begun, but instead of following that same wicked path, he sucked one of Logan’s balls between his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Tate.”

He felt Tate’s hands smooth down under his thighs and wrap around them before he pulled him slightly down the bed and raised his head.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, and Logan’s hands clenched and unclenched in the sheets beside him.

“No,” he answered, his voice ragged.

Logan craned his neck to see the mop of curls between his thighs, and then the tease blew a warm breath over his wet skin. Logan felt his ass clench as he pumped his hips up.

“Logan?”

Logan was finding it hard to fucking concentrate, let alone talk, so all he managed was, “Hmm?”

“I want to watch you fuck your hand and my fingers. Think you can do that?”

Logan was pretty sure he must have passed out at Cole’s and was having one hell of a fucking sex dream, because the Tate that was currently between his thighs had somehow crawled inside his brain and discovered all the right buttons to make him want to detonate.

When he didn’t immediately respond, his dirty, sex-talking Tate released the hold he had around his thighs and began to crawl up the bed.

Logan’s mouth opened quickly then as he promised, “Yes, yes. I can do that. Whatever you want. Where are you going?”

The smile that slowly morphed Tate’s lips was depraved, and Logan wondered where the fuck it had come from because—holy shit—it was potent.

With their eyes still connected, Tate’s mouth found his. “I’m getting the lube so I can stretch you nice and wide for my cock. That’s okay with you, right?”

Any questions Logan may have had left his fucking head after that comment, but as Tate hovered over him waiting for an answer, he did manage, “That’s fine.”

“Fine?” Tate repeated in a disbelieving voice. Then he lowered his mouth to Logan’s ear. “It’s going to be much better than fine, Logan. You know why? I can be dirty too, just like you.”

Damn. He’d known Tate would be the one to give him what he wanted. He just hadn’t known in how many ways.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? Someone who won’t always let you win? Someone that is more than happy to be sucked and fucked but will also return the favor? Mark my words, fine has no business with what we’re about to do.”

Logan closed his eyes and tried to calm himself as Tate licked his fucking cheek. When their cocks grazed one another, he couldn’t help the loud moan that ripped from his throat. The foreplay was close to killing him.