“Oh. Well, at least those were just your track pants.”
Logan’s brow rose. “I’ll have you know that these are Armani track pants.”
More at ease now, Tate sat forward until he was only an inch from Logan, and reached out to cup his face. Bringing Logan the rest of the way forward with a slight pull of his hands, Tate pressed their lips together and marveled at the rough texture of Logan’s cheeks.
“Huh,” Tate mused out loud, still running his palms over the coarse hair on Logan’s face.
When he pulled away, Logan frowned, and Tate wondered for a moment if he shouldn’t have done that.
Then, Logan’s mouth morphed into a smile. “So, what do you want to try next?”
Chapter Eleven
“I think we should have that talk now, don’t you?”
Letting his head fall back, Logan groaned. “If you insist. I, personally, think we should do something different altogether.”
“I’m sure you do,” Tate told him.
Logan looked at the man who’d completely surprised him in the last half hour and raised a questioning brow. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a shower.”
“Yeah, uh…that’s probably not a bad idea. Is there somewhere I could go to have a smoke first?”
Moving to his feet, Logan winced at the sticky condition in his pants. High schooler was right. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come while still wearing his pants, but damn, Tate finally giving in and letting him suck on him had done it.
“You smoke?” Logan asked. “Ah, that’s what it is.” He thought about the faint taste of tobacco under the overpowering cinnamon as he made his way to the dark drapes behind the single recliner. “That’s a nasty habit, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Tate stood and pushed his hand into his back pocket, presumably to get out his pack of cigarettes. “I only smoke when I drink.”
As Logan pulled the curtain back, revealing the door to his balcony, he looked over to where Tate had moved around the couch. “But you’re not drinking.”
When Tate got to him, he brought the white pack up and tapped it against his palm before opening the flap. Bringing it to his mouth, he pulled out one of the white cylinders between his lips.
“No, I’m not,” he mumbled around the tip in his mouth. “But I just came from a guy giving me a blow job, so my nerves are shot to shit.” Fishing a blue lighter out of his jeans pocket, Tate gave him a wiry smirk. “Don’t judge me.”
Logan chuckled, holding up his palms. “I’m not. And for the record, this guy enjoyed giving you head. So, if you want to get used to it, just ask.”
Tate’s eyes moved to his mouth, and Logan knew he was remembering exactly how it had felt to have his cock sucked by him.
Unlocking the door, Logan pushed it open and felt the cool night air hit him as Tate made his way outside.
“I’m going to go and have that shower,” he said as he watched Tate lean against the railing, lighting his cigarette. “Unless, of course, you want me to wait, so you can join me?”
Logan paused as Tate looked back at him. The wind ruffled the loose hair around his face as he took a drag of the cigarette and then blew out the smoke.
What a turn-on, Logan thought.
Watching Tate smoke might have just become a new fascination of his. The man looked striking, standing there with the city lights as his backdrop, and the smoke sensually curling away from him.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for…all of that just yet.”
As Logan raised one of his arms up and stretched it above his head against the doorjamb, he felt immense satisfaction from the way Tate’s eyes skidded down over his naked chest and abdomen.
“You sure about that?” Logan reached his free hand across his body to rub his shoulder.
Still looking back at him, Tate watched him like a dog eyeing a bone. It was obvious he liked what he was looking at, but at the same time, he still seemed to be holding back.
When it was clear that Tate wasn’t going to answer, Logan tried his name. “Tate?”
“Huh?” He brought the cigarette back to his lips.
“You sure you don’t want me to wait?”
As Tate took another long drag, he turned around completely, leaning back against the rail, as he unapologetically checked him out.
“You’re really good-looking. It pisses me off.”
Logan brought his arm down and leaned against the door. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you, minus the pissed-off part. Why does it annoy you?”
Shaking his head, almost as though he didn’t believe his own thoughts, Tate admitted, “Because you make me want to do things that I shouldn’t.”