“Did you just give me a hickey?”

Logan raised his head and licked his lips as he fingered the towel that was barely keeping Tate decent. “I did.”

Tate brought a hand up to his neck and ran his fingers over the red mark. “I’ve never had one of these before.”

“Is that right? I do so love being your first.”

Tate lowered his arm and looked down at himself before glancing back at him. “Exactly how many days are we staying here? I kind of have a job I’d like to keep and…umm…what am I supposed to wear?”

Logan felt his mouth curve at the questions.

Tate didn’t seem overly worried by the prospect of being gone, even though he hadn’t preplanned. In fact, the way he was looking at him made Logan think he was pretty fucking excited to be there.

“I was thinking a week when I called Pete…” he trailed off, thinking that Tate might be mad at first, but he just placed a hand on his chest.

“You called my boss?”

“Yeah,” he admitted and then shrugged it off. “It’s no big deal. I just thought we could go away and let things settle a bit. You know, after last week. And plus, Pete likes me.”

“Thank you. No one’s ever called my boss to get me out of work so they could spend time with me.”

Logan swallowed and didn’t know what to say in the face of such gratitude. His biggest fear wasn’t that he wouldn’t love him. It was…what if he did? How would he ever survive if he lost that?

How do people so readily hand over their hearts when I’m absolutely terrified to?

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Let me back in.”

Logan blinked him into focus and placed his hand on top of Tate’s. “I’m trying.”

Tate nodded. “Then I’ll wait.”

“For how long?”

Tate’s eyes softened and the smile that touched his lips was full of sincerity as he promised, “As long as it takes.”

* * *

It turned out that Logan had packed a week’s worth of clothes for the both of them before he’d tracked him down last night. As Tate changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, he checked himself out in the mirror, and there on the left side of his neck was a small but clearly visible bruise.

He felt his cock twitch at the memory of Logan’s mouth when it had applied the perfect amount of pressure to mark him.

God, Logan’s possessive side was so damn sexy.

He’d never thought that would appeal to him, but when it came to that man, Tate wanted to be branded by him. He wanted everyone to know they were together, that he was his.

So this was perfect, like an erotic signature.

He turned and left the room to find Logan waiting for him by the front door.

“You ready?” he asked.

“For?”

“We need to go and get a few things from town. Food for one.”

Tate stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and watched as Logan’s eyes followed his movements.

“You don’t need that.”

“Need what?”

“Your wallet.”

Tate continued walking toward him. “I’m paying for half the food, Logan.”

“I brought you here, so I’ll pay for the damn food.”

Tate stopped between Logan and the door. “No. Now let’s go. I’m hungry.”

He walked down the stairs and was making his way toward Logan’s car when he heard his name. He turned to see Logan walking in the opposite direction.

“This way.”

Tate followed and jogged a little to catch up. The property Logan’s cabin was built on was gorgeous and had him wondering, “How big is this place?”

Logan looked his way and smiled. “Thirty acres, give or take.”

Tate stopped where he was and had Logan coming to a standstill also. “Thirty acres?”

“Yep.”

“Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then he started walking again, thinking for the first time of how much he didn’t have.

He was only a few years Logan’s junior and what did he have to show for it? A crappy apartment and a motorcycle his ex-wife was trying to get in their divorce. Yeah, he had some savings, but Logan...Well, Logan’s wealth was a little intimidating.

“Hey?”

Tate looked back to where Logan was still standing but said nothing.

“You okay?”

He nodded, trying to push aside his moment of insecurity, and asked, “Where are we going?”

Logan walked forward and indicated a barn farther up the path they were on. “We’re going to get my truck.”

That brought Tate out of his dispirited thoughts as he laughed and fell back into step with Logan. “You own a truck?”

“Yes. I do. Got a problem with that?”

Tate grinned. “Nope. You just don’t strike me as the truck kind.”

They reached the barn and Logan walked them down the side to the door. He opened it and flicked on the light. In front of them was the oldest, most beaten-up truck Tate had ever seen.

“That’s your truck?”

“Yes.”

“It’s so…”

“So what?” Logan challenged as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

“Old?”

“Excuse me. I’ll have you know I was driving this baby all through college and she still runs like a dream.”

Tate watched as Logan walked over to run his hand over the scratched-up tailgate, and he was amazed that he even made that look sexy. Like he was stroking a lover.

“And it’s a she, huh?”

Now around at the passenger’s side, Logan opened the door and looked at him over the bed of the truck. “Yeah. Jealous?”

Laughing, Tate walked over to where Logan stood with a hand on the door and kissed him slowly on the mouth.

“I’m jealous of anything you stroke like that.”

“Get in the truck, Tate.”

“Or else?”

Logan stepped forward, crowding him back against the inside frame of the vehicle. “You’re not ready for the or else…”

Tate had a pretty good idea what it entailed, but the side of him that was always curious dared to say, “Tell me anyway.”

Logan lowered a hand between his legs, curled his fingers around his cock, and squeezed. “Get in, or I’ll turn you around and fuck you right here, bent over the front seat of my truck.”

The threat was real and the promise so fucking arousing that Tate felt his ass clench at the thought, but he also knew Logan was right. He wasn’t ready for something like that. He needed preparation before he took Logan inside him.

His hips bucked against Logan’s palm, and the desire in his eyes made Tate think he was about to get it whether he was ready or not, but Logan placed a kiss on his cheek and promised, “When I finally have you again, it’s not gonna be in a barn, Tate. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Tate groaned as Logan rubbed the heel of his hand up over him.

“I’ve been waiting and wanting, and when I’m finally back inside you, I’m not gonna leave until I’ve fucked you so hard and long that we can barely move. And we need to be inside for that.”

“Yes...goddamn, Logan,” he cursed, his breathing erratic, and then he was released.

“Now get in the fucking truck before I change my mind.”

Tate swallowed and scrambled up into the seat, waiting as Logan slammed the door shut and walked around the front to open the main door of the barn.

Once he got in the driver’s side and their belts were buckled, Logan looked his way and said, “I swear, you make me break all my rules. But you know what?”

“What?” he asked, curious as to what Logan was thinking.

“It’s time for some new rules.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were walking around the local grocery store, shopping for a week’s worth of food. Logan looked across the produce aisle to where Tate was picking out tomatoes, struck by how right it felt.

“Three?” he asked, holding one up.

“Yeah. Three’s good.”

It was interesting to him, learning what Tate liked and disliked other than on his pizza, and when they got to the seafood counter and he pointed at the lobster, the reaction was not what he’d expected.

Tate screwed his nose up and shook his head.