Trust (Temptation #3)(40)

“Tate…” he warned.

“Logan,” Tate said right back.

“It’s just…Monday night,” he started, dropping his eyes until Tate tugged the tie. “Would you stop doing that?”

Tate’s eyebrows rose and a rebellious look entered his eyes as he yanked on it again, bringing him forward in the chair until he had to put his hands on the arm rest to steady himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You meant to stop doing that?”

Logan clenched his back teeth together and grated out, “Yes.”

“Or else…what?”

“You’re really fucking pushing it, Tate.”

Tate’s eyes glinted at him in a way that made Logan realize he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Am I? Or maybe you just need to work this mood out of your system.”

“And how do you propose I do that? I’ve been trying to run it out all damn week.”

Tate wound the tie around his hand and jerked it so he was forced to look up at him.

And yeah, fuck… The aggression pouring off him is unbelievably arousing.

Logan knew he could stand if he wanted to. He could push Tate away. But as his words and actions washed over him, Logan remained where he was. Maybe a good argument was exactly what he needed.

“You do realize that every time I’ve been in your office it’s resulted in an argument of some kind.”

“And?”

“And,” Tate said as he touched their lips together, “I think you need a reminder that you might be their boss and get to tell them what the fuck to do. But between us, you are not always the one in charge.”





* * *



Tate didn’t dare drop eye contact as he stared Logan down. It was imperative that he keep the upper hand here, even surrounded by the glaring reminders that in these offices, in this building, Logan was the boss.

But not with me. No, with me, he’s—

“Remind me,” Logan whispered.

—pliant.

Tate brushed a kiss across Logan’s top lip, and when his eyes slid shut, he crushed their mouths together in a savage kiss. Logan automatically opened for him, and Tate heard a groan escape his own throat as he slid his tongue between his lips.

It felt like an eternity since they’d last touched, and wanting to get back their usual connection, Tate pulled on the tie in his hand until Logan was standing from his chair so they were on the same level.

He felt a hand grab his waist and one push into his hair, and then he turned them so Logan’s ass was against his desk and he could grind against him as he continued to devour the mouth moving hungrily under his.

Jesus. He loved that Logan never held back, always letting him know he was with exactly whom he wanted—and Tate couldn’t get enough. Logan angled his head for a deep connection, and there was no way he wasn’t going to give it.

With one hand still gripping the tie, he sucked and bit at Logan’s lips as he worked the other between their bodies and cupped the erection he could feel pressing against his own.

“Oh, fucking hell, Tate,” Logan cursed as he ripped his mouth free.

He put his lips to Logan’s throat, just above the collar of his shirt, and asked, “Do I have your attention?”

Logan thrust his hips against the palm of his hand and tightened the fingers in his hair, yanking his head back with enough force to make him wince—but Tate didn’t care. He knew what he was doing. Logan needed him whether he wanted to admit it or not.

He nipped at Logan’s chin and then stopped what he was doing, and when their eyes met, he could see Logan’s desire and annoyance that he’d stopped.

“You’re going to come to me tonight. I finish at two. I expect your ass on a barstool, asking for a drink, at one forty-five, and not a minute late. Got it?”

Logan said nothing, but Tate saw his jaw clench and knew he’d heard.

“We’re going to talk about what’s bothering you. The same way you make me talk,” he said and then tightened his fingers around Logan’s erection, pulling a harsh moan from him. “Then we’re going to work this attitude out of you.”

Tate felt Logan’s chest rise and fall against his own, as he released his hold of the hard cock in his hand and let go of the tie. Then he walked away from the man still frozen to his desk, unable to move.

When he got to the other side, Tate said Logan’s name. He waited until he turned his head, and then he pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and slapped it down on the desk.

“Here are my results. Tonight, your ass is mine.”

Yeah, Tate thought as he backed away, remembering what Logan had told him. You’re gonna go out of your fucking mind.

He picked his helmet up, well aware of the wild eyes tracking him. Logan looked like a caged animal, and Tate couldn’t wait to unleash him.