Tate’s chest rumbled with laughter as he reached across to trace a line along his jaw.
Logan closed his eyes under his touch and then said into the quiet room, “I wanted to tell you before you heard it somewhere else… Chris was at my office today. Cole scheduled the meeting. Probably his way of seeing if I could ‘handle’ him as a client or if he’ll end up being nothing but a nuisance.”
Tate’s fingers paused before he drew them down to his chin and gripped it tight, angling his face up so he was staring directly at him. Logan expected questions—why or what happened—but instead, Tate’s eyes got a look in them that had his heart and dick responding. It was one of annoyance and possession.
And hell, if that doesn’t excite me.
“Did he touch you?”
Logan thought back to that moment in his office and wondered if he should—
“Did he touch you, Logan?” The gruff question and the fingers on his chin were pretty clear indicators that Tate expected an answer—now.
“He grabbed my arm—”
Before he could even finish his thought, Tate interrupted. “And?”
“And,” Logan added, “that was all. He wanted to discuss our past. I didn’t. End of story.”
Tate sized him up as if trying to decide whether or not to believe what he was saying, and then he shoved him on his back and loomed over him. Logan felt his heart thundering as he waited for what felt like hours, and then Tate leaned down and pressed their mouths together.
The kiss was quick and hard, like a stamp of ownership, and when he raised his head, he promised, “If he touches you again, I’m going to be the third person to punch that fuck in the face.”
Logan sank his fingers into Tate’s hair and tugged him down to suck his bottom lip. “So possessive. Gotta say, I’m a fan.”
“He wants you back, doesn’t he?” Tate asked as if he hadn’t even spoken.
Logan wasn’t sure if that possibility worried Tate or just pissed him the hell off. Either way, he needed to make sure Tate was aware he didn’t have anything to worry about.
He wrapped his legs around Tate’s waist and gently nipped his way along his jaw to his ear. “If that’s the case, then he’s out of fucking luck. You are who I want, and that’s all that matters.”
“Hmm,” Tate sighed into his neck. “I like that.”
“Good,” he said and smoothed a hand over Tate’s back to his ass. “Because there’s no question, no doubt. Actually, speaking of things we want…”
Tate raised his head, and when they were eye to eye, Logan suddenly lost his nerve. What if I suggest this and he says no?
Before he could garner the courage to voice his request, Tate fingered a piece of hair lying against his forehead and asked, “You want me to get tested, right?”
Logan sucked in a shaky breath at the question, not realizing until then just how much he wanted it. To be one hundred percent bare with Tate, to be inside him in a way he’d never been with another.
Fuck yes, I want that.
“Yes,” he admitted, arching his body against Tate’s. “Is that something you want?” He held his breath as Tate placed his forearms by his head on the mattress and rested his brow against his.
“Yes. I want to be inside you with nothing in between.”
“Mhmm.”
“You like the idea of that, huh?” Tate teased.
Logan crossed his ankles over his ass, locking him in place, and pushed up to rub their shafts together. “Oh, I like it all right,” he assured him. “I can’t wait to feel it when you lose yourself inside me. I want us stripped of everything, except you and me—and, Tate?”
This time, it was Tate’s voice that was unsteady. “Yeah?”
“I’m gonna go out of my fucking mind when I get it.”
* * *
Tate had absolutely no problem with that, and as Logan’s hands continued to stroke up and down his spine, he couldn’t stay still to save himself. His desire to be close to Logan, to give everything over to him, should have been alarming, but the fact of the matter was it felt fucking incredible. Being with and wanting Logan were becoming as natural as breathing.
He knew that with as far as they’d come in such a short amount of time, given these extra steps, these gestures of trust they were extending to one another and the connection they shared was just going to get stronger—and he wanted that more than he’d ever imagined possible.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
When Logan’s fingers found his hair and tugged his head up, Tate saw the question in his eyes.
“I’ll make an appointment tomorrow. And you?”