“Yes,” Tate confirmed in a voice that made Logan’s shaft pound just a little harder. “Turn around. I want to see you. All of you.”
Logan turned but couldn’t help himself from saying, “Yes, sir.”
As the final word left his mouth, Tate crowded in behind him and shoved him up against the counter, so it was digging into his waist. Logan glanced back over his shoulder as Tate’s hand came up and gripped his chin. Slowly, he moved his face in until their lips met.
“Such a smart mouth,” Tate acknowledged as Logan’s lips parted, “and tongue,” he made sure to add, licking them as he ground his hips in against Logan’s backside, making him very aware of the erection he was packing.
“Everything I want, and everything I crave, is you. Now, face forward,” Tate instructed as he let go of Logan’s chin and ran his fingers down his spine to his tailbone.
“Spread your legs,” Tate whispered against the back of his head.
Moving only slightly, Logan hardly widened his stance at all, and he heard Tate laugh at the smart-ass move. He started to feel the thrill of victory at his small win until Tate put his foot between his and kicked them apart.
“Spread ’em, Logan, nice and wide. Stop acting like you don't want it when we both know that you do.”
This time, he couldn’t help the huff of air that came from him as Tate urged him down onto the cool, unforgiving surface of black marble with a firm palm between his shoulder blades.
Against his back, Logan could feel Tate’s warmth as he bent down with him, curling his front against him. Then, Tate smoothed his free hand over his bare ass and ghosted his fingers across the dark shadowed crease of his body.
Logan clenched his teeth against the pleasure that made his body quiver from the sure touch, as a shiver of pleasure made his entire body tremble. All the while he was thinking, I’m screwed. With this guy, I’m fucking screwed.
* * *
“Damn. What is it about you?” Tate wondered out loud as he straightened to run his palms up and down Logan’s sides, enjoying the feel of his skin under his hands.
Logan remained bent at the waist with his face against the counter and his legs spread wide.
“My sparkling personality?”
Tate brushed his fingers down Logan’s crack and smiled as the man’s entire body tensed.
“Nope, it’s not that.”
When Logan’s eyes met his, the best they could from his prone position, Tate’s fingers pushed between his cheeks to the heated pucker waiting for him.
“Although, it may be part of it,” Tate joked as he felt slick moisture on his fingertips and realized exactly how ready Logan was for him. “You’re already lubed up? You fucking deviant. Just begging for it,” Tate whispered as he grazed his fingertip against Logan’s hole, “aren’t you?”
“Yes, I fucking am,” Logan admitted readily around a curse.
“Just how badly do you want it, Logan?”
“Jesus, Tate, how bad do you think? Look at me. You think I do this for everyone?”
Tate had to agree, the man had a point. With a quick pinch to his ass, Tate grinned when Logan flinched.
“Oh, I’m looking, trust me. Spread out, bent over your kitchen counter,” Tate relayed all that he could see. Then, he brought his lips down to Logan’s ear as his finger probed for entry and found it. “I think I like it—a lot. And so do you,” he confirmed as his finger thrust forward, causing Logan to move up onto his toes.
“Ah…” was the unintelligible sound that ripped out of Logan as Tate watched his toes curl against the tile while his body got used to the invasion.
Gradually pulling his finger free, Tate brought two fingertips back to Logan’s rim to play. “Did you have fun putting this on without me?”
Logan looked back at him once again. He tried to regain some control of the situation, but it was useless. Tate held it all, and Logan fucking knew it. So, instead Logan gave him a seductive once-over. “No need to feel bad, Tate. I thought about you the whole time.”
Pulling the edge of his sweats down, Tate freed his hard-on from its confines as he continued fingering Logan.
“Who said I felt bad? I want to know if you had fun?” Tate asked again, emphasizing his point by pushing the tips of his fingers back into Logan’s body.
There was a loud groan and then Logan replied, “Yes. Yes! Fuck yeah.”
“And what were you thinking about?”
As Tate slid his fingers in and out, methodically stretching him as he’d been taught, Logan's breath became labored.
“Was thinking about this.”
“This, huh?” Tate queried, knowing exactly what he meant. “My fingers inside you? Or maybe you were thinking about more than that.”