Trust (Temptation #3)(76)

Holy shit. He was getting harder with every item Logan removed, but there was no way he was going to stop him. He wanted to see it all.

Last night in the bath had been cathartic. It was what they had needed after all they’d gone through—to be naked and vulnerable with one another.

That was definitely not the case here.

What he wanted right now was for Logan to show him that he was still desirable. That he was still the man he wanted. And when Logan’s pants and boxers came off, Tate’s fears were laid to rest. Logan’s cock was rigid and thick, as it proudly proclaimed just how turned on he was.

“Come closer,” he said, not looking away for even a second.

Logan was more than accommodating. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the side table and dropped it on the bed as he got up on the mattress.

While he moved closer, his eyes zeroed in on the hand Tate had in his jeans and he smirked. “I thought you were supposed to be exercising the right hand muscle.”

“Yeah, I changed my mind. I really think I should rest it. Plus, it’s not half as effective as my left.”

“No?” Logan asked as he straddled his legs. “I think I should judge for myself.”





* * *



Logan’s fingers flirted with the open zipper of Tate’s jeans before pulling them down his hips, which Tate lifted without hesitation, freeing his beautifully cut cock.

A low sound of approval came from the man seated in front of him, and as Tate pumped his pelvis up, Logan leaned down over him. The scents of arousal and Tate combined and had his own dick aching between his legs. It’d been too long since he’d been able to touch him this way, to even think about it, and as he let his mind relax and enjoy, he was engulfed by the eroticism of rediscovery.

Tate arched his body in an effort to get closer to his mouth, and Logan aimed his eyes up at him and tsked.

“Nothing strenuous, remember. Behave yourself.” Then he slowly ran his tongue along the underside of Tate’s cock.

Tate sucked in a hiss of air and let it out on a groan. “Logan.”

Clearly, his patience was as precarious as his own today. Logan raised his head and caught Tate’s ragged expression. “Hmm, I think I forgot…”

“Forgot?” Tate asked as he swiped his parted lips with his tongue, giving him a really difficult decision to make.

Do I go to his mouth or stay here at his cock?

Then Tate’s erection nudged his cheek and Logan turned his head to lick a wet path up it.

Decision fucking made.

“Ahh, Logan… Forgot what?” Tate panted as he tongued his weeping slit. “God, that feels fucking good.”

Logan sucked the swollen head between his lips and then felt a hand stroke the back of his head. As Tate teased the strands of hair under his fingers, Logan lowered his mouth and took him in deeper.

The groan that escaped Tate was tortured. He sounded like a man who’d been waiting years for someone to touch him, and as Logan grabbed his hips, he felt like it had been years since he’d been able to.

When he drew his lips off him and kissed the tip of his cock, his eyes found Tate’s and he whispered, “I forgot how fucking gorgeous you are when you fall apart for me.”





* * *





Tate looked at the seductive man straddling his legs and tried to remember a time when he didn’t love him—and hell if I can. Logan had weaved some kind of spell over him, one he hadn’t believed possible. But as he watched him rise up to his knees and stroke his own cock, Tate knew he’d found his person.

He reached out for him, and when Logan took his hand, Tate pulled him forward so he was kneeling over his hips.

“Kiss me,” he whispered when Logan’s mouth hovered over his. He lowered his head, and as their lips met, Tate closed his eyes, ready to savor the deep slide. When it didn’t happen and that wicked mouth vanished, Tate’s eyes opened to see Logan’s blue ones shining down at him.

“Like that?”

“No.”

“No?” Logan asked, rubbing his leaking hard-on against his chest.

Tate had his head tilted back against the headboard, but he could feel the sticky evidence of Logan’s arousal as he looked up at the hedonistic vision kneeling over him. “No. I want more.”

“Is that right?”

“With you? Always.”

When Logan leaned down, bit his lower lip, and rasped, “Good,” Tate groaned and let him in. The sexy sound that left Logan filled his ears as he cupped his face between his hands and devoured him.

He closed his eyes as Logan’s hips writhed against him, making it impossible to think of anything other than the way he moved when he was inside him. It would be a fucking miracle if he made it through the next week alive to feel that again with the way his heart was thumping in his chest.