“Tate?”
Tate clamped his eyes shut. “What?”
“Talk to me. Stop thinking for a minute about what you believe is right and wrong. Just talk to me, like you would anyone else.”
Laughing derisively, Tate shook his head at no one. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it, Logan? You’re not just anyone, and I have to consider everything that comes out of my mouth.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Tate repeated back, in disbelief.
“Yes. Why? Just say what you want to say, and if you want to be inappropriate at any time, I’m okay with that, too.”
Tate relaxed a little. “See?”
“What? Don’t act like you don’t want to flirt with me. You do it with all your customers. I’ve watched you.”
“You do too.” Tate realized too late what he’d just given away.
Logan, of course, didn’t miss it. “And you know that because you watch me, too. Don’t you?”
In the darkness of his room, Tate decided to do exactly what Logan had suggested, and say what he was thinking. It wasn’t like the guy was here in the bedroom with him. He couldn’t reach out and…touch him.
“Yes, I do,” he finally admitted to Logan and himself. After no response, he added, “Watch you.”
“What if I told you, you could ask me anything right now, and I would answer you. I’m open to all questions. Would you ask me what’s on your mind?”
The tone in Logan’s voice matched the serious tone Tate had heard earlier in the break room, and Tate discovered that he wanted to ask a million questions. He just had no clue where to start.
“Jesus, I don’t know. This whole conversation is so far from normal that I don’t even know where I’d begin.” Tate heard rustling at the other end and blurted out, “You’re in bed?”
Logan’s chuckle came through the phone and immediately Tate felt foolish.
“Um, yeah. At almost three thirty in the morning, I’m generally in bed. Aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Tate mumbled and then had a horrible thought. “Alone?”
“Yes.” Logan laughed louder this time. “In a cold bed all alone after someone got me all hot and horny this afternoon. It was a sad night, crawling between my sheets.”
Tate moved down his own bed until he was flat on his back and staring at the ceiling again.
“I really got you hot and—”
“Horny?” Logan filled in the word.
“Yes.”
“Tate? You got me so hard this afternoon, I could have pounded a nail through a two-by-four.”
“And that’s not normal—for you?” Tate couldn’t believe what he’d asked.
I sound ridiculous.
“Well, I’m a guy. It’s not like an erection is difficult to get. I just need to think about your hair, and I get hard as a rock.”
“My hair?” That was last thing Tate had expected.
“Yes, your sexy fucking hair. Are you kidding me? The curls…” Logan groaned out loud. “Tate, they’re—just trust me.”
“Okay.”
“Smart move.”
Tate’s breathing became more labored as his heart continued to beat rapidly in his chest. He thought about everything he wanted to ask and then decided to just dive in.
It’s not like anyone is here to hear me.
Hesitantly, he pushed forward. “What else do you…like about me?”
“Like? That’s not the right word.”
“Then, what word would you use?”
“What else turns me on about you?” Logan suggested.
Nodding absently, Tate held his breath for whatever was about to be said.
Then, Logan answered with, “Everything.”
Huh? That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear, and Tate was—
Disappointed? “That’s it?”
“What do you mean? That’s…everything,” Logan told him in a tone dripping with devilry. “Oh! You want details?”
Tate remained silent as Logan made fun of him, and clear as a picture, he had an image of the man in his head with his sly smirking mouth.
“You already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Logan confessed unapologetically. “But I wanted you to ask.”
“To torment me?”
“No, to torment myself. Don’t underestimate the power of a good tease. Aren’t you lying there right now, dying to know what it is about you that turns me on?”
“I don’t know about dying, but I’m curious.”
“Your throat.” Logan surprised him again.
“My throat?”
“Yes. It’s thick, tanned, and strong. Your Adam’s apple protrudes, and it moves when you swallow, especially when you’re nervous. I want to lick it.”