“Be ready. And remember, you started this.”

Logan felt Tate push against his palm.

“I know. And I plan to finish it—and you—as soon as you get us home.”

Logan was done chatting.

Somewhere between New Buffalo and downtown Chicago, Tate had managed to not only make him achingly hard, he now had Logan shaking he wanted him so badly.

Sitting beside Tate was torture. Add in Tate grinding against his hand and hell yes, Tate was about to see a less-than-civilized lawyer in around ten minutes.

He turned his car down all the correct streets as if he were on autopilot until he finally made a right onto Tate’s. He drove into the parking garage and Tate told him in a voice full of gravel where his parking space was. Since his bike was currently parked over at his house, Logan could use that for the moment.

He slowed the vehicle down to a crawl and then turned the ignition off. He looked over to where Tate had his head resting against the seat with his eyes focused on him.

Goddamn it. The man is insanely gorgeous.

His messy hair was all over the place, but it somehow suited him. One of his curls was brushing against his cheek in the exact spot Logan wanted to kiss. He had a cocky smile on his face, and Logan knew his heart was sunk.

“Tate?” he rasped across the car.

Tate’s eyes locked on his, full of desire.

“Hmm?”

Logan quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and waited for a minute. The silence that stretched between them hummed with the sexual tension inside the car. Or maybe that was the blood rushing from his head to his cock. Then he heard a sigh from Tate, and that was all it took.

Logan lunged across the center console. Taking ahold of Tate’s shirt, he yanked him close and sealed their lips. Christ, it had only been a little over forty minutes, but he hadn’t tasted Tate since this afternoon and he was hungry.

Tate’s lips parted instantly for him, and Logan wasted no time pushing his tongue inside. He groaned deep in his throat, and Logan’s cock pounded in time with his heart as Tate’s hand left his lap and speared through his hair. The erotic sounds inside the car were just a prelude to the act Logan knew would come.

Then Tate pulled away and whispered, “Upstairs. Now.”

* * *

An aroused Logan plus an elevator equaled one hell of a ride. As Tate stood with his back against the wall and Logan against his front, he wondered if they would make it to his apartment.

The second the doors had shut, Logan pinned him to the wall and moved a leg between his own. Tate grabbed his ass and pulled him forward, rubbing his body against the hard one in front of him, and when Logan’s lips found his neck, Tate hissed out, “Yes.”

Logan sucked the tender skin there, and Tate jammed his hips forward.

Holy hell, I’m burning up.

“I think you really get off on me marking you.”

Tate couldn’t think to talk, so he ran his fingers through Logan’s hair and brought his mouth back to his own.

When the elevator dinged, they didn’t bother stopping. Hell, at this stage, it was a miracle they weren’t undressed. But when a shocked gasp penetrated Tate’s sex-hazed mind, he pulled his mouth away and looked beyond Logan to the person standing in his hallway.

As his eyes collided with wide green ones, not one word came to mind.

But when Logan turned around and saw Diana, he managed to locate one quite easily.

“Motherfucker.”

* * *

Well, Logan had to give the bitch credit. She was the first woman who’d made him thankful that he liked cock.

“Oh my God,” she finally spoke.

Tate stepped around him and raised his arm on the elevator doors, which were shutting. “What are you doing here?” he demanded as Logan moved up behind him.

Diana pulled the strap of her purse up her arm, and Logan noticed a large manila envelope in her hand.

Ahh, divorce papers. Hand-delivered, no less. Maybe she’d been hoping to change Tate’s mind—too late for that.

“Get out of my way, Tate. I came to talk to you. Not to see you and him making out in the elevator.”

Tate stepped into the hall and backed Diana up. “You are at my place,” Tate reminded her in a voice Logan knew well.

They’d had enough arguments that he knew Tate’s warning signs, and this was the calm before the storm. He was also aware that this woman knew Tate just as well, and he fucking hated that.

“And now I wish I were anywhere else.”

“So do I,” Logan muttered, which had Tate looking at him over his shoulder. “What? It’s the fucking truth. She has been nothing but a nightmare ever since I met her. Which was before I met you, I might add.”

He saw Diana peer around Tate’s shoulder and try and glare him to death.

“Is that look supposed to hurt my feelings?” Logan asked.

“Fuck off,” she spat out, and that had Tate turning back to face her.

“Don’t you talk to him like that. He’s welcome here. You are not.”

The satisfaction Logan got from Tate’s words was short-lived as Diana reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said, trying to appeal to Tate’s gentler side, but Logan was fairly certain that side had left the fucking building.

He noticed her eyes kept shifting over Tate’s shoulder, monitoring where he was, and as she started to run that hand up Tate’s arm, Logan decided that it was best to stand still. Otherwise, he might just get close enough to rip her hand off.

“It’s too late to talk, Diana. You gave up that right the second you went to my parents about this.”

“That was when?” she asked incredulously. “Oh come on. Don’t act like he didn’t brainwash you before that.”

Tate put his hand over the one she still had on his arm and brushed it off as if it were an annoyance. “He is Logan. And he didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want him to.”

Diana’s face had taken on a pinched look, and she had her hands clenched by her sides.

“That’s not true,” she stated in a voice that was barely audible.

Logan watched as Tate took a step away, almost as if he too could feel a storm brewing.

Then Diana exploded. “It’s not true!”

Tate nodded and merely answered, “It is.”

Diana raised her arms, and just as she was about to land her small fists against Tate’s chest, he captured her wrists.

“Think about what you’re doing right now.”

“I hate you. How could you do this to me?”

“To you? What have I done to you? You’re with someone new, and so am I. You destroyed my family. You went and told my mother information she should’ve heard from me.”

Diana struggled and tried to pull free, her fury now grabbing a tight hold of her. “It wouldn’t have made a difference,” she sneered, looking past Tate to him. “The second she knew her precious boy was sucking cock, she would have kicked you out.”

Tate released her arms as if she’d burned him, and Logan bit his tongue hard. He knew now wasn’t the time to say what he really wanted, which was something along the lines of—

“I was about to suck it right now, but you interrupted me.”

Yes, that was it.

“You make me sick.”

“Why? Because I fell in love with a man? You make me sick. Because you’re spiteful, vindictive, and conniving, and you have been for a long time.”

Her mouth clamped shut and she started to shake her head. “Move, Tate. I want to leave.”

“Too bad. I’m not done. You wanted to see me, here’s your chance, because after this, I never want to see your face again.”

Diana’s head snapped up at that, and Logan saw a flash of pain filter in through all the ugly. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes. I do. Week after week, you’ve insisted on going to my family’s house with the sole purpose of making me uncomfortable. You didn’t care that I didn’t want you there. You just cared about yourself as usual.”