Try (Temptation Series)(13)

And that, right there, was his biggest mistake.

He saw the precise moment when Logan dropped his focus to Tate’s mouth, and his expression changed from interest to lust, and Tate found himself preparing to fight off an unwanted kiss.

“Careful, Tate.”

“Huh?”

“I am a lawyer, and I’m always looking for a loophole. And I think you do like this, but don’t worry,” Logan told him before promising, “I won’t tell anyone.”

Tate quickly straightened away from the bar and grabbed the towel off his shoulder, kicking himself in the ass for getting caught up in conversing with this man—again.

“You’re left-handed,” were the odd choice of words that broke through his thoughts.

“And you’re observant,” Tate mumbled, still trying to work out if he did like the attention he was getting from Logan. And if I do, what does that say about me?

“You know,” Logan drawled, “there are lots of interesting facts about left-handed people. Over history, left-handedness has been seen as all kinds of things from a nasty habit to a sign from the devil, a rebellious nature, even…homosexuality. Hmm, I’ve never had a left-hander before.”

Tate stared back at the man who was talking so casually he might as well have been asking about the weather. Nevertheless, every single sentence coming from Logan’s mouth was pushing Tate further out of his comfort zone and straight into the I-must-be-going-fucking-crazy zone.

“And yes, I am observant, sometimes.” Logan lifted the glass to his mouth where he finished the drink and then placed it back on the bar top.

Going into self-preservation mode, Tate asked the usual job-related questions. “Will that be all?”

“Drink-wise, yes.”

“That’s all that’s offered at this hour. Food shut down at ten,” he stated plainly.

“That’s fine. I’m not hungry for food.” Logan clasped his hands on top of the bar.

Tate didn’t know what to say to that unless he was going to slip into the same behavior he had a moment earlier. It was obvious that engaging in conversational-sparring matches with Logan, no matter how innocent, led to dangerous territory and wreaked havoc on Tate’s mental health.

“In that case, I’ll go and let Amelia know.”

“Oh, could you? Because she is exactly who I’ve been picturing naked and bent over for me since I sat down here tonight. And yes, I know that was inappropriate. But, Tate?”

Tate focused on the shameless lawyer, who was definitely checking him out this time, and tried to remain professional. “Yes, Logan?”

“That’s when I’m at my best.”

Tate turned away silently and heard laughter follow after him as he moved farther down the bar, and at that moment, he wondered if Logan was laughing at his own comment or the moron walking away from him.

* * *

Logan knew he had been pushing it tonight. Hell, if there was one speed he didn’t have, it was slow. But he figured if he didn’t make his case with Tate, the opportunity—wait, when did that become a word in this scenario?—would disappear.

After that last drink, the time hit twelve thirty, and he decided he was probably now bordering on the pathetic line—especially considering he was sitting at a bar and drinking alone just so he could watch a certain bartender move around in front of him.

Logan felt the familiar stirring in his cock as he tore his attention from the other man. He got down from the bar stool and made his way into the restroom, trying to decide what he’d seen in Tate’s expression when they had been going back and forth.

Confusion was the first expression that came to mind. It hadn’t once been accompanied by disgust though, and that he could work with.

Finishing up, Logan washed his hands and stepped out into the dim corridor, leading back to the bar, where he practically ran into Amelia.

She stepped in close to him. “Leaving so soon?”

Logan glanced around, and when he saw they were alone, he peered down her black shirt and vest to where she had the top three buttons popped open. Running his tongue along his top lip in contemplation, Logan raised his eyes back to hers.

“I was about to—unless there’s a reason I should stay?”

When Amelia placed her hands on his lower abdomen, stroking his rigid muscles, Logan knew exactly where this was going.

“Well, I was thinking…”

Stepping back into the corner of the hall, Logan wasn’t surprised when she followed.

“What were you thinking?” He was now thinking about her lips around his dick.

Warm hands burrowed under his black shirt before fingers dipped into the top of his jeans. She turned her face up to him, and he watched expectantly as—ah, yes—her tongue came out to moisten her lips.