As the tip of Tate’s tongue tickled his earlobe, Logan turned his head and finally told him, “Yes, that’s what I want. You. The dirtier, the fucking better.”

Apparently Tate liked that answer, because he growled and slammed their mouths together. Logan couldn’t help but reach for the hips rolling over his groin. He dug his fingers into the warm skin and pushed his pelvis up as his eyes closed and the kiss continued.

The taste of Tate was always the same—a hint of cinnamon and a fuck-ton of sex—and Logan was convinced he was addicted.

Ripping his mouth away, he focused on the man above him. “Hurry.”

Tate hovered over him and then leaned to the side to grab the lube. When he came back, he kissed Logan’s ear, whispered, “No,” and then slid down his body.

I’m fucked, Logan thought. Even though it wasn’t quite true yet, he knew it would be as he looked down at the gorgeous man between his thighs, and he couldn’t wait.

* * *

Tate pushed Logan’s legs apart as he moved down the bed, rubbing his own cock on the cool sheets as he went. He couldn’t wait to sink into Logan, but he wanted him out-of-his-mind crazy before he did that, and Tate knew just how to get him there.

Logan had hinted a few times that he liked it a little rough and hard when it came to his turn at being on the bottom, and Tate wanted to give him that.

Tonight, Logan seemed to need something. He wasn’t saying exactly what it was, but Tate was fairly sure it had a lot to do with him taking control, and he was more than willing.

When he was situated between Logan’s thighs, his mouth only inches from his cock, Tate raised his eyes over the rippling abs and impressive chest and reminded himself of his goal. Take Logan.

He grabbed the lube, and as he opened it, the legs on either side of him tensed. That power he’d felt earlier was back. When it came to having it over Logan, Tate loved it.

“Nervous?” he asked as he poured some of the cool liquid onto his fingers. It was about time he had Logan on edge, especially since, most of the time, it was the other way around.

“Wrong word,” he heard Logan respond.

Tate reached out, wrapped his fingers around the base of Logan’s thick shaft, and asked, “Then what’s the right word?”

Logan punched his hips up, sliding his hardened flesh through Tate’s fist, and managed, “Turned the fuck on.”

Tate began gliding his hand up and down and told him, “That’s four words.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Logan muttered as Tate continued giving him a slow handjob.

“Give me your hand, Logan.”

Logan immediately offered his right hand, and Tate stopped what he was doing, causing a throaty groan to emerge.

“Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Tate chuckled and entwined their fingers, making Logan’s as slippery as his. “I’m not going to, and neither are you. Show me. Show me how you get off whenever you think about me. Just like the other night in the car.”

Tate loved the sinful look Logan gave as his fingers wrapped around his cock without reservation, and he pressed his head back on the pillow to jerk off.

Fuck. He loved the uninhibited way Logan just went for it.

Tate turned his head, licked a spot high on Logan’s inner thigh, and heard a curse rip through the bedroom.

“Show me,” he whispered again so his breath caressed Logan’s tight balls.

Logan tilted his hips, and Tate brought a hand up to trace a lubed finger under his balls to the dark shadow between his cheeks. He pushed his finger over the tight skin and into the crease until he found what he was looking for.

Tate’s face was so close to Logan’s body that he couldn’t help but suck one of his balls back into his mouth, which had Logan reaching for a fistful of his hair.

Tate rubbed his finger back and forth over the sensitive nerves of Logan’s ass, continuing to give him a tongue-lashing as he writhed around under him. The noises coming from Logan were sexy, raw, and tortured as he masturbated, and Tate could feel his own cock pulsing against the mattress.

He removed his mouth from Logan’s hot flesh and raised his head. He wanted to watch when Logan came undone. Slowly, Tate slid the tip of his finger inside, and when he felt Logan push his hips down to take him deeper, he knew what Logan wanted and thrust his finger in all the way.

Logan’s eyes opened, and that burning blue gaze found him. Tate swore he felt the heat coming from them as Logan pumped his cock and licked his full bottom lip.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.

The thought almost knocked Tate out of his sexual daze until Logan closed his eyes, severing the connection, and started a desperate rhythm.

Tate withdrew his finger from Logan’s vise-like passage and then slipped it back inside.

I’m so fucking screwed.

He’d thought he was going to unravel Logan’s secrets, but as he added a second finger and Logan’s body took it, sucking him inside, Tate knew he was also coming undone. He was starting to realize that he wanted to do anything and everything when it came to this man, and wasn’t that eye opening?

He needed to do something, and fucking fast.

Tate gently bit Logan’s thigh, and the hand in his hair tightened.

Yes, touch me. Make me brave.

Tate removed his fingers and kneeled between Logan’s legs, reaching for his left ankle. He watched Logan’s eyes widen when he placed his foot against his chest. As he slowly lowered down, almost splitting Logan in half, Tate decided.

He could be brave and he wanted back inside.

* * *

A hiss of air left Logan as Tate tunneled two thick fingers back inside him. He practically had one foot on Tate’s shoulder as he worked his fingers in and out of him—and Logan wanted more.

He’d known Tate would likely break him, and when he came down so he could kiss the fuck out of him as he stretched him open, Logan realized that he’d really had no clue.

He feverishly tugged himself as Tate’s voice filled the room.

“Feelin’ good, Logan?”

Logan knew that line well, and he had a feeling Tate was enjoying the turned tables—but then again, so was he. “Fuck yes.”

Tate nuzzled his lips and nose into the crook of his shoulder, and Logan couldn’t keep his hips still to save himself. He could feel Tate’s cock leaking all over his thigh and knew he was close to being well and truly fucked, but first—

“More?”

Logan heard the tentative question whispered in his ear, and his ass clenched around the fingers scissoring apart his hole.

More? Fuck yes.

“Give it to me.”

Tate traced the shell of his ear with his tongue and pulled his fingers slowly from his body. When they came back, Logan felt three fingertips pushing and testing.

He turned his face until they were lip to lip and confessed, “I’d take all four and a thumb if I had the fucking patience, but I don’t. Now hurry the fuck up, Tate. Give it to me.”

His words shocked Tate. He could tell by the way his eyes widened, but as the meaning and apparently the visual sank in, Tate pushed his fingers inside him and Logan watched his eyes dilate.

“Yes, Tate. Yes,” he growled and had to squeeze the hell out of his cock to stop himself from coming.

He started to writhe uncontrollably under Tate as his prostate was given a good fucking massage. All the while, Tate’s hips were moving and his hard-on kept rubbing against his thigh.

Logan reached out a hand, grabbing the curls falling down over Tate’s forehead, and demanded through a harsh breath, “What are you trying to do, kill me?”

Tate shook his head. “No. I’m making you mine.”

Logan released his hard-on and grabbed Tate’s ass, pulling him up so he could rub their cocks together. “Don’t you know? I’m already yours.”

* * *

Tate’s entire body stilled.