Try (Temptation Series)(29)

Tate’s eyes snapped open to focus on the door where Logan was leaning up against the frame with his legs crossed and his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that can be arranged.” Tate stated, feeling surly as hell. “You’re not allowed back here.”

Logan blatantly checked him out where he was seated, and Tate immediately wanted to sit up straight and shut his widened legs.

“I have connections.”

“Who? Amelia? She’s hardly the boss.” Tate told himself to stay where he was and not give any indication of his nerves.

“Not Amelia.” Logan lazily pushed off the wall and took a step forward.

When he was in the room, he turned to shut and lock the door, and that was when Tate decided he needed to get the fuck up.

Logan behind a shut door meant a Logan who had no boundaries, and Tate had already met and given in to that guy once today.

No need for a repeat, Tate again reminded himself for good measure.

“Going somewhere?” he asked Tate impertinently.

“Open the door.”

Tate hated the familiarity of Logan’s lip as it curled at him. He hated it, and at the same time, he was fascinated by it.

Then, the arrogant ass told him, “You open the door.”

To do that, Tate would need to get close to him, and Logan knew it, so instead, Tate crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Okay, now that we have that sorted out, how long is your break?”

“I’m not spending my break talking to you,” Tate replied peevishly.

Logan walked farther into the room while giving him such a thorough once-over that Tate could swear he felt it as effectively as the man’s hands.

“Why? Would you rather spend it doing something else?”

* * *

Logan could see the conflict and curiosity swirling in the man staring back at him. He could tell Tate was confused by the feelings he was experiencing, and he knew Tate was feeling them because Logan had deliberately looked to find out. Just as he was, Tate was hard as a fucking rock.

It was actually unlike him not to push that knowledge in his favor, but Logan figured that wouldn’t be an issue in around ten seconds. The room was practically vibrating with sexual tension, and a whole fuckload of testosterone.

“What do you expect my answer to be, Logan? Please suck my dick?”

Now, there’s an idea. Best not to get ahead of myself though.

“I want you to tell me the truth.” For once, Logan meant it.

“The truth?” Tate asked.

Logan moved then, across the room until he was in front of the other man, where he repeated, “The truth. Did you enjoy what happened this morning? It’s as simple and as easy as that.”

“Really? It’s that simple, that easy?” Tate questioned in a tone indicating that he thought Logan was certifiable.

Refusing to give an inch now that Tate was talking, Logan gave a slight nod of his head. “No one in this room is going to judge whatever comes out of your mouth. So. Tell. Me. The. Truth.”

Tate clenched his jaw, and almost as if he had given himself permission, he explained, “Did I like it? Yes. Do I understand it? No, I fucking don’t.”

That was all he’d been waiting for. Logan took the final step to bring him close enough to smell Tate’s cologne, and the guy smelled amazing.

“Do you need to understand it to know that it felt good?” Logan raised his hand to touch Tate’s arm, testing the hard, lean muscle. “Do you want to do it again?”

Logan kept watchful eyes on the man coming to terms with all of his decisions today, and when Tate’s hand came up to grip his own, Logan waited.

“It’s like you expect me to flip a switch and just accept that everything I ever believed about myself has changed, and that I should be okay with that. Do you know how insane that is?”

“I do. But do you know what else is insane?”

“What?”

“That you still haven’t told me no.”

* * *

He’s right. Tate stared at Logan, who was still holding his arm.

“What do I need to get you into my bed?” Logan asked boldly.

Tate couldn’t help the laugh escaping his mouth at Logan’s directness. “A vagina?” He raised a brow at the man.

Releasing his arm, Logan took a step back and removed his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed a number and placed the phone to his ear.

“Hi, hon.” He then met Tate’s eyes and smirked as he mouthed, A vagina, I can get.

“Hang up,” Tate demanded through clenched teeth.

Logan shook his head, trying not to laugh.

“Logan, hang up.”

Pulling the phone away from his ear, he pressed it to his chest. “Why? I thought you wanted a vagina.”

Tate took a step that put him as close to Logan as he could get without touching. “Hang. Up.”