Take (Temptation Series) (17 page)

The heels digging into his ass encouraged him to move, and as Tate began to thrust his hips, Logan lay back and let him have him. With his coal-black hair pressed into the pillow and the veins in his neck standing out as he grit his teeth, Logan closed his eyes.

Tate watched his face and wondered if he’d ever seen anything as spectacular.

Logan in the throes of sexual bliss was a fucking masterpiece. He offered no apologies as he reached down to his cock and began jerking it as if he’d never get the chance again, and as Tate continued moving inside him, he felt his balls tightening.

He was ready. He wanted Logan to come all over the both of them and then he’d finish in the snug, hot home his dick was currently burrowed inside.

His fingers gripped the pillow under Logan’s head as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and fell onto Logan’s upper lip. He watched in rapt fascination as those sexy eyes opened and Logan’s tongue came out and licked
his
sweat—that was the trigger.

Tate’s hips picked up the pace, and nothing could stop him.

When Logan’s orgasm hit, his entire body bowed up off the bed, causing the firm muscle surrounding Tate’s cock to clench and tighten, making them both shout loud enough to bring down the fucking walls.

This was no longer about sex.

As Tate pressed his forehead against Logan’s, he likened it to a religious experience. Logan had fundamentally changed him, made him see the light—
Or the fucking stars
—and there was no way he could ever be unchanged.

When Logan’s lips parted beneath his own, Tate swept his tongue inside and pushed the hair away from his face.

“You’re a beautiful man, Logan Mitchell.”

Logan grinned and palmed his ass. “You look so confused saying that. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Tate shook his head. “No, I’m not worried about people knowing. I just never associated beauty with…”

“A man?” Logan guessed.

Tate nodded and then chuckled. “Stupid, huh?”

“No, not at all,” Logan disagreed. “I think you’re beautiful too. Fucking gorgeous to be exact.”

Tate felt a blush hit his cheeks and wondered how the fuck that could be after what they’d just done. He slowly pulled out of Logan, and as he stood and removed the condom, he said quite seriously, “Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to my mom again. I won’t hide from my family, Logan.”

Logan moved up onto his elbows. “Okay.”

Tate walked toward the bathroom door to clean up before bed, but before he got there, Logan called out to him. He stopped and turned back to see that Logan had lain back down and was staring at the ceiling.

“I meant what I said earlier. I’m already yours, so whatever you need...”

Tate wanted to respond and opened his mouth to do so but found that nothing would come out.

13.

By the time Tate made it out of the shower, the bed had been stripped and remade with navy-blue sheets under a white duvet. Logan was nowhere to be found.

With a towel secured firmly around his hips, Tate walked out into the dark living space and found him standing at the door to his balcony.

The city lights made for an impressive backdrop, but it was the man standing at the door that held all of his attention. Logan had pulled on his sweatpants, and his hands were resting loosely in his pockets.

Tate wasn’t sure what mood he was about to encounter since he couldn’t see Logan’s face, but he figured that the stillness in the room and the rigid posture were pretty good indicators that the wall Logan usually stood behind was back.

“I’m all done,” he announced, trying to break the silence.

Logan glanced over his shoulder, and Tate noticed his glasses back in place. Kind of like a defense mechanism—Logan’s version of a shield.

“Sounds good.”

That was it. That was all he got before Logan looked away.

Tate made his way past the glass coffee table and stopped beside him, staring out at the buildings. He wasn’t sure what was going through Logan’s head, so he didn’t know where to start. Instead, he stood beside him and waited.

Several minutes passed before Logan finally spoke.

“You know, the last time I sat out there, I was on the phone with you.”

Tate remembered. They’d talked about Chris, the asshole who had up and run when Logan had been in college, pretty much causing his inability to commit to more than a quick fuck-and-run today. They’d also discussed his family, and if he would be ready to defend—
Hang on. Where is he going with this?

“I remember.”

Logan turned his head and caught his eyes in an unwavering stare. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

“I told you—”

“I know what you told me,” Logan cut in, serious as ever, and turned his body so they were now standing opposite one another. “You told me you wouldn’t lie to them. So what
will
you tell them?”

Tate pushed an agitated hand through his wet hair and then ran it down the side of his neck. “I’ll tell them we’re dating.”

Tate watched Logan’s lips thin.

“And when they ask you if it’s true? If you were kissing me that day? If you’re having
sex
with me? What then?”

There was no escaping the intense man in front of him, but once again, he was tongue-tied. His sister’s shocked voice began to loop in his head, and his mother’s denial was in his ear. Then Logan’s voice cut through it all—honest and brutal as hell.

“If you can’t tell
me
, how are you going to tell them?”

Tate thought about that and was about to answer when Logan spun around and started to walk away.

“Would you hang on a fucking minute?”

Logan stopped where he was but didn’t bother to face him, and didn’t that just annoy the shit out of him. Tate stormed over and stepped around him until they were face to face again.

“Are you going to give me a chance to speak? Or just be an asshole and walk away?”

Logan shrugged as if he didn’t care, but Tate knew that the underlying issue was that he cared
too
much.

“First, stop comparing me to Chris.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, and it’s pissing me off.” Logan’s jaw twitched, and Tate knew he was biting back some kind of caustic comment so he reiterated, “I’m
not
him.”

“I know that!” Logan thundered, and it was such a shock to hear him yell that Tate’s mouth clicked shut. “I fucking know that,” he repeated, quieter this time.

Tate stepped forward and took Logan’s hand. “I’m not going to
deny
anything.”

“But—”

“There are no buts.” Tate paused, and when Logan’s lips quirked, he couldn’t help himself. “Well, maybe a couple of asses.”

Logan chuckled, which was what Tate had intended as he tugged him closer.

“You scare the shit out of me,” Logan admitted as he placed a hand on Tate’s chest. There it was again—
the power.

“And you think I’m not scared?”

“No. I know you are. But
what
are you scared of?”

Tate wasn’t quite sure he understood the question.

What am I scared of? Isn’t it obvious?

Logan slid a hand up to the side of his face, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Tate was sure it still should’ve been weird, Logan’s comforting him.

But it wasn’t.

“What, Tate? Tell me.”

Tate gripped the wrist by his chin. It was thick and strong, just like his. He’d told himself he needed to be brave, and he also knew he had to be honest.

He swallowed and finally admitted out loud, “I’m scared of what they’ll think.”

Logan’s eyes never wavered, but he saw a flash of emotion cross them—a flash of apprehension.

“Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Tate hated the fact that he was worried about his parents’ reactions.

Scratch that
—
my entire family’s.

It wasn’t as if he were a child needing their approval, but he knew that Sunday was not going to go well, and the closer they got, the more anxious he became.

“They’re my family. Of course I’m worried about how they’ll react.”

“To me?” Logan asked.

“No. To
us
.”

Logan said nothing as he lowered his hand.

“But I’m
not
going to deny it,” Tate assured him again. “Look, can we get some sleep and maybe spend tomorrow just hanging out? Are you free?”

Logan tried for cool and casual but didn’t quite pull it off. Even with the sexy wink he gave, he seemed uneasy. “Sure. We can hang out.”

They walked back into the bedroom, and the way Logan purposely bumped into his side, Tate knew he was trying to lighten the mood.

“What exactly does ‘hanging out’ mean to you?”

Tate looked at him quizzically as Logan took off his glasses and sweats before getting under the covers. “I was thinking maybe the movies, or I don’t know, miniature golf if you want. I don’t care. I just figured we could spend the day together before I go to work.”

Tate removed the towel and dropped it on the floor, catching the way Logan checked him out as he too got back into bed.

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Morrison?”

Tate moved down until he was on his side, facing Logan. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Logan turned so they were mirroring one another and pretended to think it over. “Then I accept—on one condition.” Tate waited for something outlandish from Logan and laughed when he said, “I’m picking what we’re doing. The movies or putt-putt? How did you
ever
get laid?”

Tate sucked his lower lip into his mouth as his eyes trailed over Logan, and he put every effort into a look that he hoped would—

“
Fuck
. Stop it. Okay, okay. You made your point.
I’d
even brave putt-putt for that face.”

Tate chuckled, rolled to his back, and waited.

There it was—their new ritual.

Logan raised his arm, and Tate found himself moving in toward his side.

It was amazing that something so simple had once felt so complicated.

When, now, all it felt was right.

* * *

Logan sat at his dining table the next morning with a coffee and the paper. He’d been trying to focus on reading the business section for the last twenty minutes and failing. He kept reading the headline over and over.

Last night had been intense. Not only had he and Tate had their first somewhat-public date as a couple, what happened after had been just short of life changing for him.

Here he was, someone who’d sworn off any kind of committed relationship, falling for Tate. A man who’d only kissed him,
a man
, a few weeks earlier.

I’m fucking crazy. What the hell is the matter with me?

There was a very real possibility that Tate would change his mind. After all, it had happened before…

“What are you doing here, Mitchell?”

Logan looked at his study partner and behind-closed doors boyfriend, Chris Walker, as he stood in the hallway. He’d been coming over to Chris’s dorm for the last several months, and lately, he’d been making up every excuse he could think of to stop by and see him.

At first, their relationship had started out innocently enough when they’d paired up to study, but that all changed when Chris showed a real interest in studying something other than math. It was a subject Logan had never thought about until Chris kissed him, and then he’d been more than happy to explore the new topics in private.

“I was on my way home from the library and thought I’d stop and see if you were free.”

“Free? Free for what? I pay you, and you help me pass algebra.”

Chris’s sarcastic voice filled the hall and had several people staring at them as he stepped out into the narrow space. Logan stood there, confused over why he was being so cold until two other guys came to the door they’d just vacated.

“Go home, would you? I’m busy.”

Logan pushed his glasses up his nose and narrowed his eyes on the guy in front of him. Chris was one of the university’s star lacrosse players, and as Logan shrugged his bag up his arm, he couldn’t help but look at the muscular chest he’d worshipped yesterday with his mouth.