Trust (Temptation #3)(13)

He hadn’t been lying last night, and ever since he’d admitted to himself that he wanted Tate in his home, to share it with him, he’d wondered if Tate felt the same—or if he ever would. Walking around to stand in front of him, Logan ran his eyes over Tate, and fuck, he was thankful he was his.

Oh yeah. This man with the soft curls, unfastened pants, and fuck-me-now eyes. He is all mine…even if he is being a pigheaded ass at the moment.

He reached out and fingered the tie knotted at the base of Tate’s throat before pulling it out from behind the vest. As the narrow strip of material came free, Logan wound it around his hand, tugging on it until Tate’s mouth was only an inch from his own, and raised an eyebrow.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this.”

Tate’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Apparently, Tate was as excited by the idea as he was.

“My tie?”

Logan released the material and stroked his palm down the vest covering Tate’s chest, and then he wrapped his fingers around his rigid length and started to give him a slow hand job.

“No. This uniform,” he said as he kissed the stubble on Tate’s jaw. “I want you on your hands and knees with these pants down just enough to see your perfect ass.”

“Fuck, Logan.”

“And your shirt and this vest? I want you to keep them on also. I want to feel them against my skin as I sink inside you.”

Logan released his hold on him before he took the tie again. Pulling on it, he brought Tate’s head forward so he could crush their mouths together in a demanding kiss, and when Tate’s lips parted, Logan slid his tongue inside to taste the pliant man swaying toward him.

As a moan ripped from the back of Tate’s throat, Logan pulled away and spun him around to whisper in his ear, “Get on the bed, Tate.”

He silently watched as Tate kicked his shoes off, went to his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube and a condom, and climbed on his bed exactly as requested. Without question, he dropped them both by his leg and positioned himself on his hands and knees, waiting.

Logan stood at the foot of the mattress and took in the picture Tate made, all the while thanking God that he had permission to touch what he was seeing. Because there is no fucking way I’d have the willpower to leave.

“You look un-fucking-real,” he murmured, reaching for his belt.

As he unfastened it, the metal sound of the buckle had Tate looking over his shoulder at him with fevered eyes. Logan gave him a shameless smirk and slowly pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans before dropping it on the floor. After removing his sweater and tossing it aside, he kicked his shoes off and stood in only his jeans and socks.

Tate’s eyes ran all over him, his skin heating as they went, and when he licked his lower lip as though he couldn’t wait for whatever he was about to get, Logan felt his cock pound behind his zipper.

Fucking hell, the guy is gonna make me come before I even get close enough to touch him.

Tate must have noticed the effect his perusal was having, because his eyes lowered to the more-than-obvious bulge in his pants, and he watched with a ravenous expression as Logan unbuttoned and unzipped.

He pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor and took his socks off to stand naked. He then placed a knee on the end of the bed and asked, “You ready for this, Tate?”

If the way Tate pushed his ass in the air toward him was any indication, he was more than ready. But Logan wanted a verbal response before he went any further. Making his way up the bed, he gripped the sides of Tate’s dress pants and boxers and pulled them over the curve of his ass.

“Perfect,” Logan praised as he smoothed his palm over the tan globe of Tate’s cheek. “I know I’ve said this before, but your ass is fucking perfect.”

“Hmm.” A deep rumble left Tate’s throat as Logan dug his fingers into his hip and pulled him back toward him. “Logan.”

“Love the way you say my name like that,” he confessed, and then he grabbed Tate’s other hip so he could rub his throbbing arousal against all of that bared flesh. “Say it again.”

Tate dropped his messy head of curls forward and rasped, “Logan…”

Logan drew a teasing fingertip across the base of Tate’s spine, and when he reached the shadowy cleft, he flirted with it, pushing his finger down between the hot crevice.

“Yes, just like that. I want to hear it just like that when I push my cock inside you. Got it?”

Tate’s body vibrated under his hands, and Logan gave a seductive chuckle as he lowered himself over him and brushed his hair aside. When he placed his lips to Tate’s ear, Logan stroked his hands down the sides of his thighs and ground his hard-on against him, delighting in the harsh cry that left Tate’s throat.