Try (Temptation Series) (25 page)

“I don’t plan to,” Tate assured him.

Then, their mouths met as they went at each other like they had been waiting for years instead of days.

It only took minutes this time around, just as Logan had known it would, but within several of them, his own climax raced down his spine to start the familiar ache in his balls that would lead to one amazing orgasm.

Behind him, Tate’s hips moved with much more urgency, and the fingers on his hips threatened to bruise as Tate shouted out an obscenity, and his climax hit him hard. It didn’t take anything more than knowing that Tate had come inside him for Logan to come in a hot spray of creamy fluid all over his hand and Tate’s sheets.

Unbelievable. Have I ever been so goddamn satisfied?

As Tate pulled out of him, Logan winced slightly at the loss of pressure and shifted, so he was lying on his stomach. When he felt the warm chest and Tate’s groin pressed all along the back of him, Logan smiled into the pillow.

“Holy shit,” he heard followed by Tate’s chuckle.

“No kidding,” Logan concurred from under the man stretched out on top of him. He wasn’t about to tell him to move.

“That was unfuckingreal. Did it feel good?”

Logan started to laugh at the absurdity that anyone would have to ask that after the way he had just come, and as his whole body began to shake, Tate rolled off of him and landed in—

Yep, the wet spot.

Tate’s expression of shock and the quick way he moved made Logan’s hilarity increase until he landed on his back and was holding his stomach.

“Yes, you just landed in the proof.”

“I’m glad you find this so funny.”

Tate’s response just made Logan laugh harder. As he turned his head on the pillow to face Tate, Logan couldn’t help the grin he gave him.

“I was just thinking how hard it was going to be to convince you to suck my dick if my cum is so horrifying to you.”

Tate moved then, quicker than Logan expected, and he found himself pinned under him.

“You’d be surprised at what I might do when asked to try.” Tate lowered his head to take Logan’s mouth with his own.

Before their lips connected, Logan ran his hands through all those messy curls and told him, “Truer words have never been spoken. Look at everything you did tonight. So, when do you think I should expect that—”

Tate shook his head, brushing their noses together. “Shut up for a change, would you? And just kiss me.”

Now
that
Logan could do.

Part Two

Reaction: An emotional or intellectual response to or aroused by a stimulus.

 Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, Logan stood in line at The Daily Grind, waiting to get his much-needed caffeine while thinking about the night before. As far as he was aware, he and Tate had gone from first date to their first time to—

Seeing each other?

That thought alone made Logan almost break out in hives. The idea of tying himself to anyone apparently bothered him more than he’d realized, but he was also willing to try and push past it if that’s what it took to keep Tate around.

With that goal in mind, Logan stepped forward and reached out to take the hand resting by Tate’s leg. As soon as their fingers touched, Tate moved his aside and shook his head once, before stepping away from Logan and up to the counter.

Ah, so I can touch him—but only in private.
Logan couldn’t pinpoint why that utterly galled him, since it never had before, but it did. Usually, he was the last person who needed assurance or commitment of any kind, but the fact that Tate was now acting like this, after almost demanding it from him—really got Logan hot under the collar.

As Tate finished his order, he turned and indicated to the corner where he was going to sit. “I’ll meet you back there,” Tate told him.

Logan found himself biting back what he really wanted to say, which would have sounded something like,
Oh, I’m allowed to sit with you?
But he didn’t say it. Instead, he nodded briskly and inhaled the scent of soap clinging to Tate’s skin.
The man smelled extraordinary.

Walking up to the counter, Logan greeted the familiar young woman behind it. “Hey, Libby.”

“Logan, hey. How are you?”

Libby had been working at The Daily Grind for the last two years, always on the morning shift when he came in. She was cute and sweet with auburn hair and freckles everywhere. She also enjoyed hassling him at every opportunity she got.

“Oh, pretty good. Running a little late today.”

When she looked around his shoulder and over in the direction where Tate had gone, Logan made sure not to turn and follow her gaze.

“For a good reason, I hope?”

Logan chuckled and grinned. “Am I ever running late for a bad one?”

“Good point. Then again, you’ve never come in here
with
anyone either.”

Logan shook his head and then lowered his voice, “Tell me Robbie isn’t working today, and I’ll love you forever.”

“If only it were that easy to win your love, Logan.”

Feeling hopeful, he pressed, “So, he’s not?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Libby, come on, help me out.”

“He’s here, but I’ll keep him away. Sound good?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Logan supposed.
What the hell was I thinking, bringing Tate here?
“I’ll have an espresso, please.”

“Anything else?” she asked with a smile.

Logan gave an absent shake of his head. “Nope, that’s all.”

“Okay, I’ll call it out when it’s ready.” She paused and picked up the other cup before giving him a mischievous look. “With Tate’s?”

Amazing, even his name excites me
. Logan turned and made his way over to the booth where the man who belonged to that name waited.

* * *

Tate sat toward the far back corner of the coffee shop and let his eyes take in his surroundings. Several couches were on the opposite side near the large windows that showed all of the businessmen and women—just like Logan, he supposed—making their way to work. Several of the tables in the middle of the shop were full, and as his gaze finally came back to Logan, who was still talking to the redheaded barista, Tate knew he needed to wake up and get his brain in gear.

Last night was still running on a continuous loop through his head, and when Tate had woken up to find Logan sitting fully dressed on the chair in his room, he’d known it was time to think fast. Real life was about to come calling, and there was no way to hide from what he’d done.

* * *

 “I need to go and get clean clothes for work. Meet me for coffee? Nine thirty at The Daily Grind on LaSalle?”

Tate nodded his head against the pillow and could smell Logan’s aftershave all over his sheets. He had an insane urge to bury his face in it and then maybe masturbate all over them, but instead, he rolled onto his back. “Yeah, okay. What time is it now?”

“Six.”

“Oh shit. Of course you’re a morning person,” he mumbled.

Logan stood and crossed the space to the bedroom door. “So, nine thirty?”

Tate agreed halfheartedly, resting an arm across his eyes.

“Tate?”

As his name was called, he lowered his arm and watched Logan’s tongue moisten his lips.

“Yeah?”

“If I didn’t have a mandatory meeting today, I’d take the day off, crawl back into your bed, and somehow convince you to lie back and let me have you.”

Tate felt his body react to Logan’s words, and he knew that he was definitely going to get himself off the minute Logan left.

Last night, after that first time, Logan had told him to sleep. Tate had figured the guy realized how overwhelmed he had been. But this morning, he’d surprised himself because Tate wanted nothing more than to start all over again.

“I’ll see you at nine thirty,” Logan confirmed, giving him one last look-over, before he walked out the door.

* * *

Now, here they were, after Tate had spent the morning lying in bed where he’d jerked off and come all over his sheets. He’d then showered and pulled on jeans with a gray V-neck.

Logan, on the other hand, looked as though he’d had twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep and was immaculately dressed as usual. Tate observed Logan as he made his way through the smaller tables toward him and tried to connect this man with the one he’d had naked and under him just last night.

Dressed in a three-piece suit today, Logan appeared like he usually did when he came into the bar. But this time, as Tate took in the cut and tailored fit of the navy blue material, his palms itched to touch. The perfectly styled hair and the glasses framing serious eyes added up to one seriously hot and sophisticated package—a package Tate wanted to unwrap. He wanted Logan back in his bed. He wanted him naked, and waiting for him on his hands and knees. Just like last night.

“So, am I allowed to sit here? Or should I find a different table?”

Tate blinked at the annoyed tone from the man he was currently fantasizing about, and he tried to work out why the hell he was on the receiving end of the sarcastic remarks.

“Huh?”

As Logan slid into the seat opposite him, Tate continued his bold appraisal until Logan’s voice snapped him out of it.

“If you think the way you’re looking at me is any less of an indication that you had your cock inside me last night as opposed to simply touching my hand today, then you’d be wrong.”

Tate shifted in his seat. “And how am I looking at you?”

“Like you want to undress me.”

“I do want to.”

Logan placed his arms on the table and clasped his hands together. “But you have an aversion to holding hands?”

Tate leaned across and spoke softly, “Well, I won’t be undressing you in public, will I?”

Logan tilted his head to the side and sat back in his chair. “Ah, I think I understand.”

“Good,” Tate replied, thinking that would be the end of it.

“So we’re…
secret friends
?”

Tate shook his head, rubbing his palm over his face.

What did I think would happen?
That Logan would be happy with a quick fuck at the end of each night and that he wouldn’t tell anyone? Did the guy ever keep his mouth shut?

No.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

Logan’s expression reflected his incredulity as he responded. “I’m being the asshole? I’m just trying to work out what exactly is going on here, so I know what I can and can’t do.”

“You can show a little patience while I get used to everything. You’ve been doing this for…” Tate paused, and then asked, “How long have you, you know?”

“Nope, I don’t. If you want to know something, then spit it out.”

“Liked both? Swung both ways? Whatever, you know what I mean. Stop being difficult,” Tate stated, impatiently.

Logan’s laugh was derisive, and Tate knew it had nothing to do with what he’d asked but more to do with
his
discomfort at the question.

“Well?” Tate demanded.

“Since I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” Tate questioned in a much louder voice than he’d anticipated.

Just as Logan was about to say something else, Tate heard, “Tate! One, extra-nutty hazelnut latte, and an espresso!”

Tate scooted out of the booth and stood. As he brushed past Logan, he felt a hand grab his wrist. Stopping, he looked down at eyes that were laughing up at him.

“That’s the drink you ordered? A nutty hazelnut?”

“Yeah, so?”

Logan shrugged. “Awful lot of nuts for one drink, don’t you think?”

Tate scowled as Logan continued to laugh.

“You know, nutty hazelnut fits you quite well this morning, I’d say.”

Tate shook his head. “I like the nut flavor, that’s all.”

“Oh Tate, you make it so easy every time. Go, or I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”

“Are you ever?”

“More than you’d think, trust me.”

Tate pondered that for a moment. “You got the espresso?”

Logan inclined his head without saying another word, and Tate decided that was his cue to go and get their drinks.

* * *

Logan remained where he was, staring at the back wall, waiting for Tate to return. He was having an internal conflict, something that didn’t happen often with him. He’d been hurt when Tate had pulled away from him earlier
.

Hurt
.

The concept was almost humorous, considering his stance on relationships in the past, but the thought of Tate being embarrassed by him—

Yeah, that fucking hurt. The guy has managed to turn me into an emotional head case in less than two weeks.

Logan was resolved to telling him that he was not down for the hiding bullshit just as soon as he got back. Before he even finished thinking it though, the seat opposite him filled, and it was not by Tate.

Oh, just fucking great.

“I knew it was you,” the new arrival announced.

Logan stared across the table at Robbie.

Blond-haired, blue-eyed Robbie was a one-night several months ago, lapse in judgment.

“Did you?” Logan asked, trying to speed things along.

Robbie wasn’t shy at all as he looked over Logan’s suit and licked his lips suggestively.

“I did. I told Libby it definitely looked like you even though she swore it wasn’t. But I was right, and here you are.”

Looking over his shoulder quickly, Logan was happy to see that Tate was still at the counter, waiting behind a group of people. Turning back to face the guy, Logan tried to remember exactly why he’d gone home with him as he replied, “Yep, here I am.”

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of. Always gone before I see you.”

Until today. How could I have been so stupid?
Logan aimed a forced smile at Robbie and hoped that Tate took his sweet-ass time getting their coffees.