Try (Temptation Series)(74)
As the word over left his lips and seemed to hover in the air, Logan felt, rather than saw, Tate stop beside his side of the booth. He watched as Robbie lifted his eyes to Tate, and then the young man’s mouth split into a smile that was pure sexual invitation. It was the same invitation Logan had once taken him up on, and an invitation that was not going to work here. It was a pity Logan didn’t have a chance to warn him of that before he opened his mouth and engaged Tate in conversation.
“Well, hello. Who are you?”
* * *
Who am I? Tate thought, glaring down at the little dipshit currently seated opposite Logan. Who the fuck are you?
Since he seemed to have lost the ability of speech, Tate turned to Logan, who answered for him, “This is Tate. He’s…”
Logan seemed to stumble over what he wanted to say, which was completely unlike him, and Tate wanted to get in the blond man’s face and say, I’m his, so fuck off.
Instead, he remained mute as Logan ended with, “A friend of mine.”
Although that completely infuriated him, Tate knew that it was his own fault. He’d sensed the way Logan had backed off when he’d moved his hand away from him earlier. It had been a natural reaction to any guy who’d try and hold his hand. One that was going to be hard to break, but it had really rubbed Logan the wrong way, and now, he was obviously paying him back.
“I’m Robbie. Also a good friend of Logan’s.”
Tate felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the implications being thrown at him. It was obvious this guy knew Logan in the we’ve-fucked kind of way, and Tate wasn’t exactly sure what his part in this discussion should be, which also didn’t help in his annoyance.
“So sorry, I’m in your way.”
“Trust me, you’re not. But you are in my seat,” Tate pointed out.
“Am I?”
As Tate glared down at the intruder, he noticed that, for once in his life, Logan had shut the hell up. “Yes. You are.”
The blond finally removed his eyes from him and looked across to Logan—the man, Tate thought, he had met for coffee. Robbie licked his lips like he wanted a taste of Logan’s mouth, and Tate almost dumped the coffees on the table, wanting to grab the guy.
Logan must have finally clued in to Tate’s mood because that was when he spoke up.
“Well, it was nice catching up, Robbie.”
Tate turned his head and pinned Logan with a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me glare.
“It’s always nice to see you, Logan, under any circumstances. Or just under you in general,” Robbie replied.
That comment was almost enough to make Tate’s temper explode, as the little shit slid out of the booth.
As he stood, Tate noticed he was around the same height as him, but Robbie was rail thin. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a black Daily Grind polo shirt. He gave Tate a wide grin, obviously aware of the shitstorm he’d just stirred, and then he turned, and walked away.
Sliding into the vacated booth, Tate glowered at Logan who had an arm across the back of the black seat and one on the table. Tate pushed the espresso over to him and finally spoke. “Him? Really?”
Logan picked up the coffee and brought it to his lips to take a sip. Tate did the same but kept an eye on the man across from him.
“Why so surprised? He’s cute, and his mouth rivals the suction of a Hoover.”
Tate almost choked on his coffee at that analogy. He coughed, cleared his throat, and stared at Logan, whose eyes seemed to be laughing at him.
“Nice. So, that’s how you remember the people you’ve been with—by their…sucking skills?”
“Not at all. Take you for example. All I can remember is how hard you fucked me last night. Plus, you haven’t sucked my cock yet. Want to remedy that?”
Tate shook his head. “Not right now.”
“Thought so,” Logan responded, lifting the drink to his lips.
Tate watched Logan’s lower lip part from the top to take a sip, and that was when he found himself promising, “Later.”
“Later, huh?”
“Tonight.”
Fingering the cup Logan pointed out, “You work tonight.”
“You don’t.”
“No, I don’t, do I? What should I do instead?”
Tate crowded in, wanting this now more than ever. “Come to the bar.”
“Now, why would I do that? It’s not like you’re going to talk to me more than you usually do. I don’t feel like sitting in a bar and staring at a man who is too much of a pussy to admit what he’s doing behind closed doors.”
Oh yeah, Logan is pissed. Just like Logan had once told him, it was an absolute turn-on. Arguing with him was like foreplay. Tate couldn’t believe how hot it made him.