“I’ll have you know...”

The sides of Tate’s eyes crinkled as he asked, “Yes?”

Logan lowered his head and captured Tate’s mouth in a kiss then told him, “It was only some of Chicago. And maybe a few outside of it. I told you. I’m selective.”

“And now?” Tate asked.

“Now I’m really fucking selective. As in, there’s only one choice, one option, and one person I even think about.”

“Oh yeah?”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Ever since he served me a gin and tonic and told me he was straight.”

Tate pretended to be shocked. “He told you he was straight and you went after him anyway?”

“Mhmm. He was adamant.” He kissed Tate again. “Told me there was no way in hell he’d ever kiss me.”

“But you changed his mind, huh?”

“Of course,” he said, full of arrogance. “I argue for a living. He stood no chance.”

Tate’s mouth moved under his in a grin. “You weren’t doing much talking the day you pushed your agenda in the conference room.”

“Well, sometimes you have to prove a point with physical evidence.”

Tate put his hands on Logan’s shoulders and pushed him away slightly. “Oh is that what that was?”

“Yes, and I find that a lot of oral presentations are helpful also.”

Tate shook his head from side to side, still smiling. “You’re something else, you know that? Thank you.”

“For?”

“Always making it better,” Tate laughed.

“Pretty sure I usually suck at this part in relationships.”

Tate sat up this time and straddled his lap.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t. But you’re good at sucking in other parts.” Tate ran his hands over his shoulders and then said, “I want to do something fun. Something that’ll make us forget these last two shitty days.” He paused, closed his eyes, and whispered, “I want to lose myself for a while.”

Logan thought about it for a moment and then asked, “How about Whipped?”

Tate’s eyes opened and he looked slightly shocked. “I know I’ve been up for a lot lately, and yeah, I’ll try most things—”

“Tate?” Logan laughed.

“Yeah?”

“It’s a nightclub. But please feel free to finish that thought. You say you’ll try most things?”

“Asshole,” Tate mumbled.

“You say the nicest things to me.” Logan winked. “Let’s go dancing.”

* * *

The music was thumping, the club dimly lit, and as Logan made his way through couples gyrating, he felt Tate’s fingers tightening around his. He’d picked a place he knew fairly well, Whipped.

It was a place where there was a little bit of everything, including men dancing with women, women dancing with women, and—he stopped on the corner of the dance floor and pulled Tate into his body—men dancing with men.

He’d figured Tate would be a little more comfortable around a mix of people, and as his arms came around his neck and he closed his eyes, Logan knew he’d been right until—

“Ah, my favorite lawyer and his ‘friend.’ I swear you two get hotter every time I see you. So it’s a damn shame I don’t see more of you.”

Tate froze in front of him, and Logan closed his eyes, hoping that the voice that just shouted over the music wasn’t—

“Robbie,” Tate answered for him as he greeted the intruder.

Logan turned around to see Robbie step closer to them both.

“I thought it was you. It’s hard to ignore someone like Logan. Or you for that matter,” he added, winking at Tate.

Fucking flirt.

“In fact, I think I saw you smile at Logan when you walked in. Granted, I could be wrong since it’s such a rare event, but when it appeared, it was fabulous.”

Logan turned to Tate, and instead of finding him fuming, he was grinning down at Robbie—amused. He then looked back to see Robbie’s eyes close to fucking sparkling up at Tate, and he couldn’t help but shake his head at the guy’s antics.

As usual, Robbie was dressed much the same as he had been the night they’d hooked up. Loose, black cargos that rode his skinny hips, and a bright-pink mesh tank top that was cut to expose from his navel down. His eyes were enhanced by black eyeliner, and his blond hair was spiked with enough hair gel that not even the busiest hands in it would mess it up.

He was cute and knew it. There was a time that had really worked for him, but when Logan felt Tate’s body brush the side of his, he knew that time had long passed.

Tate, in his leather pants, tight, white T-shirt, and the leather jacket he’d checked at the door, was the guy who could give as much as he dished out, and Logan hadn’t realized how much he craved that until now.

“Did you know this is where I met Logan? And we danced the night away,” Robbie reminisced over the music.

“Really,” Tate responded, secure enough that he didn’t make it a question. It was more like a perfunctory answer, and with his arm looped around Logan’s waist, it was obvious he was in no way threatened by Robbie.

And fuck me, that’s hot.

“It was one dance and then we left. Let’s not get carried away, Cinderella. It wasn’t your ball,” Logan interjected.

“No,” Robbie agreed, grinning like an imp, “it was yours. Both of them. That was a good night.”

Logan groaned and Tate’s body vibrated with laughter.

“What was a good night?”

Both he and Tate looked over Robbie’s shoulder to the man who’d stopped behind him. He was a tall, muscular guy in jeans and a white button-down. He was familiar, but Logan couldn’t quite place him. The man seemed to exude carefree and relaxed with the longer blond hair that was pushed behind his ears and hit the collar of his shirt, but the shrewd eyes and serious line of his mouth screamed of confidence and control.

“The night I met Logan,” Robbie stated, gesturing in his direction before adding an introduction. “This is Daniel.”

The man’s eyes found both him and Tate, and as he sized them up, Logan caught a flash of heat...and interest.

“Yes, I can see that would be a night worth remembering. And you?” Daniel asked as his eyes shifted to Tate. “What’s your name?”

For the first time since he’d met Tate, Logan felt the intense need to make it known who he belonged to and wrapped a proprietary arm around his waist.

“Tate.”

“So, Logan and Tate. Nice. Very nice. Evening, boys.”

His voice was smooth like whiskey, and Logan felt Tate shift beside him and knew he was feeling the same sexual appraisal from the man.

“Hey,” Logan responded. Then he turned his eyes to Robbie, who was looking between him and Daniel.

“I noticed you both as soon as you came in, and Robbie said he knew you.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed on the blond, and then he focused once again on the man who seemed to be wanting something. Two somethings to be exact.

“Did he now?”

“Yes,” Daniel answered, eyes locked with his in a stalemate. “He did.”

Tate’s fingers were now stroking over his ass, and Logan had to really hold back a laugh at the fact that he didn’t seem bothered at all that the guy in front of them was eye-fucking them both.

“Are you two free later?”

Logan was about to answer when Tate finally decided to speak up, and as always, he didn’t disappoint.

“No, we aren’t. We don’t play well with others.”

Logan turned to look him in the eye and the expression in Tate’s was, ‘But I’m going to play with you.’

“I told you,” Robbie stated, and Daniel gave them both a smug smile and tilt of the head as he wrapped an arm around Robbie’s shoulder.

“So you did.”

Robbie leaned into Daniel’s side before giving him a thorough once over and Tate, a full-on cheeky grin. “What? Can’t blame a guy for trying. You two—”

“Aren’t interested,” Logan ended for him. “But you have fun tonight.”

Robbie looked over at Tate and then back to him before grumbling, “You too.”

Logan felt Tate’s hand squeeze his ass, and before he could speak, Tate did. “Oh he will.”