Try (Temptation Series)(123)

“Your mouth was fucking made for this.”

Logan could feel his own cock pressing painfully against his zipper.

“Hmm…mouthy lawyer equals one sexy cocksucker.”

He’s going to kill me, Logan thought as he pulled his lips from Tate. He was about to tell him he was going to get it, and hard, if he didn’t stop running his mouth, but before Logan even had the chance, Tate’s hand was on the back of his head, increasing the pressure.

So, instead of talking, Logan locked eyes with the sexed-up ones looking down at him, and he silently parted his lips as Tate pushed his hips forward, and slid back into his mouth.

Logan could hear the soft huffs of air leaving Tate with every flex of his hips, and when Logan closed his palm around the firm sac he was fondling, Tate cursed loud enough that Logan was sure that everyone on Tate’s floor had heard. But this wasn’t where Logan wanted this to end. Oh no. He had so much more in mind for Tate.

Rising to his feet, Logan took Tate’s lips in a hard kiss, before lifting his lips.

“Not yet, Tate. Your mouth is very dirty tonight. I think you need to cool down and wash it out. Time for a shower.”

Tate pulled back from him. “I’m not fucking you in the shower.”

Logan reached down between them and took Tate’s erection in his palm. “Good. Because in case you’ve forgotten, that’s not on the agenda today.”

Tate lowered his hands and stilled Logan’s. “You’re not fucking me either.”

Logan stared at Tate as he removed his hand and stroked the back of his fingers along his cheek. “Even if that was an option, I’m of the opinion that I want you to have a clear head. So, let’s get rid of this buzz you have going because, Tate?”

Tate’s dilated eyes blinked at him as Logan assured him, “You will sober up, you will forgive me, and then I’m going to take what you promised me.”

* * *

Tate concentrated on Logan as he thought back on the morning. “You hurt me today. I knew she would, but I didn’t expect you to.”

Tate knew it was the alcohol that had him relaxed enough to say things he never normally would, but when Logan was being gentle, when he was touching him like he cared, it was so easy to slip into the stronger emotions.

“I know,” Logan admitted. “I know I did.”

Tate let out a shaky breath, and for the first time in four excruciatingly long hours, he relaxed under Logan’s admission. “Okay, as long as you know.”

That was when Logan stepped back, removed his glasses, and tossed them on the table. Tate tugged his open jeans back up his body, and as Logan ran a hand through his own hair, he let out a breath and muttered, “I know, believe me. Watching you leave, with no plan to return, isn’t something I want to witness again any time soon. Now, let’s shower.”

* * *

Logan followed Tate down the hall toward the bathroom and for once, he really wanted this to be special. For the first time in his entire adult life, he cared about what happened to the man in front of him.

Just as Tate turned to his left and was about to disappear through the door, Logan reached out and took his arm. Pulling him back, so he was in the dimly lit hall, Logan stepped in to him until Tate’s back was against the wall, and he was against his chest.

Cupping Tate’s face, Logan pressed his lips to the parted ones in front of him. He was relentless in his quest to hear the answer he craved. “Do you forgive me?”

Tate reached down between them and began unbuckling Logan’s belt as he denied him once again, “No.”

Logan rested his forehead against Tate’s, as fast fingers unfastened his button and zipper.

“Tell me why I should. Give me a reason,” Tate suggested.

“Because,” was all Logan could come up with as Tate’s hand pushed down into his pants, taking him in his palm.

“Because?” Tate repeated back to him.

“Yeah, because.”

“But you told me that because is never a good reason,” Tate reminded him as he let go of Logan’s aching skin. He slipped away, making his way into the bathroom.

Frustrated with himself for this entire situation, Logan squeezed his eyes shut and counted to thirty. He was close to finally being in control of himself when he heard the water turn on in the next room.

Oh hell. He had no chance of winning this game, and he knew it. He would do anything to hear Tate say he was forgiven, even if that meant sitting outside the bathroom while he showered, but hopefully that wouldn’t be the case.

Making his way into the tiled room, the first thing Logan saw over in the corner was the pair of jeans Tate had been wearing. He then focused on the man who was standing under the spray of water, and he felt his cock weep as he watched him run a soapy sponge all over his tanned body. When Tate then turned toward him, he dropped the sponge and lifted his hands to smooth them back through his hair, and Logan was rendered useless.