Try (Temptation Series)(35)

Tate didn’t mean to, but as soon as the image was relayed and imprinted in his mind, his fingers curled around his cock and pulled roughly as he released a guttural sound and arched up hard into his palm.

“Hmm, that sounded fucking good.”

Logan’s rumble met his ear, somehow breaking through the red haze of lust currently swirling all around Tate.

“So, you like the idea of me lying here, naked and turned-on, touching myself while you’re talking to me?”

“Oh God.” Tate thrust his hips up again.

“Spit on your palm, Tate. Get it wet, do whatever you have to. Then, slide it back inside your boxers and touch yourself, just like I am.”

Tate lifted his palm, spit into his hand, and then without a second thought, he pulled the boxers away and watched his erection spring free, pointing guiltily toward him.

“Wrap your fingers around yourself, and when you do, I want to hear you.”

Feeling as though his heart was about to fly right out of his chest, Tate gripped his shaft. He couldn’t have held back the raw noise ripping from his throat even if Logan hadn’t told him he wanted to hear it.

“Yes,” Logan hissed.

Tate knew that he, too, was fisting his cock at the other end of the phone.

“Tell me how it feels,” Logan demanded bluntly.

The first word out of Tate’s mouth was, “Hard.”

“I fucking hope so.” Logan gave a strained laugh.

“Hot. It’s so hot in my palm—and throbbing. I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking hard in my life.”

“Jesus, Tate,” Logan cursed. “What else? What do you look like?”

“You mean, my cock?”

“Yes. You cut, uncut? Veiny, long? Describe it to me.”

Well, that was something Tate had never done, but eager to keep Logan talking, and for him to continue feeling this way, Tate did as asked.

“Cut, and I’d say average size, lo—”

“Don’t be a pussy, Tate. Give me an approximate length.”

Tate laughed, barely, at Logan’s put-out tone.

“Okay. I’d guess approximately seven inches, maybe a little more.”

“Fuck, fuck—fuck.”

Liking the strain he’d heard behind each cursed word, Tate really started to work his length. Logan’s breathing became heavier in his ear, and suddenly, Tate couldn’t shut his damn mouth.

“It feels like I could fuck for hours, I’m so turned-on. I swear, every time you groan or curse in my ear, it makes me even harder, if that’s physically possible.”

Logan’s breath rushed out and into the phone, sliding through Tate’s ear, and he could have sworn it was like the man was lying in the bed beside him.

“It’s insane how slick my cock is,” Tate muttered absently as he spread pre-cum over the swollen head. “I’m so close to coming. I don’t think I can stop myself.”

Finally, Logan seemed to find his tongue. “Then, stop fucking teasing me and come. I’m about to, and I want to hear you when I do.”

As though Tate had been waiting for permission, he clamped his fist around his agitated shaft and listened to the huffed groan at the other end of the phone as though Logan had finally given himself permission, too.

Like two marathon runners sprinting toward the finish line, there was nothing but gasping breaths, grunts of mutual pleasure, and right when Tate thought he couldn’t feel any fucking better, he heard Logan shout out his name, and that was it. With a snap of his hips, Tate pushed up and moaned loudly as he came all over his taut stomach in a rush unlike any he’d felt for years.

Breathing harshly, Tate looked down at the sticky mess he’d made as everything came crashing in on him. He’d just had phone sex…with Logan…and he fucking loved it. His right hand was still holding the cell to his ear, and Tate could hear similar breathing to his own through the line.

“You alive?” Tate didn’t know what else to say. He had no idea what guys said to one another after this sort of shit.

“I think so. Holy shit, Tate.”

Tate didn’t know why, but the awe in those three words made him proud. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” After some movement on his end, Logan asked, “You?”

“Yeah.” That was as much as Tate could admit, and then he laughed. “Definitely, yes.”

“And? Feel better?”

Tate could hear the smug tone, but he decided to finally give the guy a break. “I feel fucking fantastic.”

The satisfied sound coming through the phone made Tate happy that he’d told the truth.

“Tate?” Logan asked of him.

“Yes?”

“It’s going to be even better in person.”