“Oh…shit, Logan.”
Logan’s mouth curved against his heated flesh before he moved across to the crease of Tate’s arm where he nuzzled in and continued to gently bite the skin and muscle of his bicep. Tate grunted in pleasure at each sharp bite until Logan lifted his head, and that teasing mouth was back on his.
Tate braced himself, as Logan’s hands moved to his waist and then slid around to pull him into full-body contact.
“God, Tate, your skin”—Logan kissed his way across Tate’s jaw to his ear—“is so smooth…and tanned…all over. It’s so lickable.”
Tate’s head tipped back, exposing his neck for Logan, and when firm lips started to suck the skin covering his Adam’s apple, a rumble left Tate’s throat.
Logan lifted his head. “Do that again.”
Tate felt the lips back against his throat, and he groaned for Logan, causing a vibration to hum out of him. Then, a wet tongue licked up the side of Tate’s neck, and strong teeth sank into his jaw. He lifted his head and stared back at Logan.
“I want you so fucking bad,” Logan cursed.
Tate raised his hands to Logan’s shirt, and this time, instead of bothering to unbutton it, he tore it apart. As the buttons popped free from the material, he yanked Logan in by the edges of his shirt, so their bodies were back to touching.
“Hope you didn’t want your shirt.”
“Fuck my shirt.”
Tate chuckled, and then he asked seriously, “Logan?”
Logan’s body tensed. “Yes?”
Pushing the white material off Logan’s shoulder, Tate relayed his thoughts clearly. “I want to be inside you, just like last night.” He kissed Logan’s neck, and when he got to his ear, he sucked the lobe into his mouth. He made sure to add, “And I want to hear my name when I make you come.”
* * *
Yes, Logan thought as Tate’s mouth hovered over his ear, whispering the hottest promise he’d ever heard.
Logan hadn’t been lying about how much he wanted Tate. It was insane. Basically, Tate just had to look at him, breathe near him, or be in the same vicinity, and he was ready to go. Usually, Logan could control his body better, but one flirtatious comment or smile from the man currently kissing his way up his neck, and he was useless.
“Feeling possessive?” he goaded, knowing exactly what was riding Tate.
Not one, but two of Logan’s past acquaintances had gotten in Tate’s face today, and Logan knew that tonight was about two things—want and possession. Tate was out to prove something, and who the hell was he to stop him.
As his shirt landed on the floor and Tate’s mouth came back to his, Logan ran his hands through the curls he obsessed over and pushed against the determined man in front of him. When Tate shoved back as though he wasn’t giving up the upper hand, Logan bucked his hips forward, loving the resistance. As two hands moved between them to his belt buckle, Logan lifted his head, and Tate’s tongue licked into his open mouth.
“So sexy, Tate. You’re so fucking sexy.”
Tate’s lips curved. “Where to? Bedroom?”
Logan glanced over to the couch. “No, not close enough. There.”
“Here?” Tate confirmed as he released him and turned to walk over to the black leather couch. When he stopped in front of it, he unfastened the button of his pants, his zipper, and then sat down with his legs spread wide in sexual invitation.
Logan could hardly take his eyes away from him as he kicked off his shoes. He knew what was coming and what he wanted, and it was sitting on his couch, waiting for him to come and take it.
Bending down, Logan removed his socks, and when he straightened, he came eye-to-eye with Tate, who was watching him and stroking himself. With his lowered eyelids and swollen lips, Tate looked like he’d been fucked hard already, and Logan couldn’t wait for that day. He knew that once he got inside Tate, he was going to spend a good portion of his days, weeks, and months getting back in there as often as possible. Until then, he would happily take him the only way he could.
“You want something, Tate?”
Tate looked him over, starting at his bare feet. Unhurriedly, they grazed over his boxers to the trail of hair that pointed down to Logan’s upright shaft, and when Tate’s eyes finally connected with his, they were so dark they were almost black.
“So? You want something?”
“You already know what I want. I told you.”
Logan moved across the room to open a drawer in the bottom of the entertainment center. When he came back in front of Tate, he dropped a condom on the glass coffee table and a bottle of lube on the couch beside Tate’s leg.