“Yeah, well, you’re enough to make anyone drink,” Tate fired back, surly as hell.
“Is that right?” Logan asked with a curl to his lip.
He didn’t know what this said about him, but this was the attitude he loved on Tate, and he hadn’t seen it for a while. It was pissed-off, it was confident, and as his eyes remained locked with Logan’s, it was arrogant as fuck.
“Yeah, it is. I’m not going to give in until you really mean it.”
Logan couldn’t help the taunting laugh that escaped him as he took Tate’s bottom lip between his teeth. Pulling it out and then letting it go, he ran his tongue over it and tasted the tequila as he promised, “Well, we’ll just have to see who gives in first, won’t we?”
He covered Tate’s mouth in a furious mating of lips as he pushed his free hand down into Tate’s open jeans. As Logan’s fingers curled around Tate’s hard cock, Logan felt him shudder, and he smirked against his mouth.
“I’m going to make you tremble so fucking bad, your knees are gonna give way.”
Tate breathed heavily against his mouth and challenged, “Bet you can’t.”
Letting go of Tate’s chin, Logan cupped the back of his head and twisted strong fingers into his hair. Pulling Tate’s head back, Logan sucked on his neck and throat and then licked over Tate’s Adam’s apple where he promised, “I will, or I’ll die trying.”
A harsh moan left Tate as Logan worked the responsive flesh in his hand and then kissed Tate’s jaw. He bit it gently, and then with a tinge of desperation, he pleaded with the man, “Say you forgive me, say we’re fine.”
“No,” Tate refused.
Logan could see how this was going to play out. He just wondered who would win.
“Okay, if you won’t forgive me, then at least let me taste you.”
Logan released both hands from Tate’s body as he dropped down onto his knees and quickly pulled the jeans to Tate’s thighs. As soon as the denim revealed what he wanted, Logan went for it.
Wrapping his arms around Tate’s legs, Logan kneaded his ass cheeks and nuzzled into Tate’s groin, reveling in the scent that hit his nose. Exhaling slowly, Logan looked up to see Tate staring down at him.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
Oh, are you? Logan thought as he circled the base of Tate’s erection and dragged his tongue from the root of the shaft to the tip.
When he got to the head of the thick erection, Logan licked the slit, and Tate’s fingers found his hair and grabbed on as he tongued the sensitive glans.
“Come on, Logan. Suck it. You know you’re dying to,” Tate ordered.
Logan would be damned if that demand didn’t ramp up his urge to take Tate, that much more. But first—first, he was going to drive Tate fucking crazy.
Running his hand down Tate’s ass cheek, he brought it around the front of his thigh and up between to cup his full and heavy balls. As soon as he was cradling them, he squeezed and glanced up to see Tate fixated on him. Feeling a smirk cross his lips, Logan rose up on his knees and bent his head over him.
“Holy shit, Logan,” he heard reverberate through the silent apartment as he brought his lips back up Tate’s steely length.
“Your mouth was fucking made for this.”
Logan could feel his own cock pressing painfully against his zipper.
“Hmm…mouthy lawyer equals one sexy cocksucker.”
He’s going to kill me, Logan thought as he pulled his lips from Tate. He was about to tell him he was going to get it, and hard, if he didn’t stop running his mouth, but before Logan even had the chance, Tate’s hand was on the back of his head, increasing the pressure.
So, instead of talking, Logan locked eyes with the sexed-up ones looking down at him, and he silently parted his lips as Tate pushed his hips forward, and slid back into his mouth.
Logan could hear the soft huffs of air leaving Tate with every flex of his hips, and when Logan closed his palm around the firm sac he was fondling, Tate cursed loud enough that Logan was sure that everyone on Tate’s floor had heard. But this wasn’t where Logan wanted this to end. Oh no. He had so much more in mind for Tate.
Rising to his feet, Logan took Tate’s lips in a hard kiss, before lifting his lips.
“Not yet, Tate. Your mouth is very dirty tonight. I think you need to cool down and wash it out. Time for a shower.”
Tate pulled back from him. “I’m not fucking you in the shower.”
Logan reached down between them and took Tate’s erection in his palm. “Good. Because in case you’ve forgotten, that’s not on the agenda today.”
Tate lowered his hands and stilled Logan’s. “You’re not fucking me either.”
Logan stared at Tate as he removed his hand and stroked the back of his fingers along his cheek. “Even if that was an option, I’m of the opinion that I want you to have a clear head. So, let’s get rid of this buzz you have going because, Tate?”
Tate’s dilated eyes blinked at him as Logan assured him, “You will sober up, you will forgive me, and then I’m going to take what you promised me.”
* * *
Tate concentrated on Logan as he thought back on the morning. “You hurt me today. I knew she would, but I didn’t expect you to.”
Tate knew it was the alcohol that had him relaxed enough to say things he never normally would, but when Logan was being gentle, when he was touching him like he cared, it was so easy to slip into the stronger emotions.
“I know,” Logan admitted. “I know I did.”
Tate let out a shaky breath, and for the first time in four excruciatingly long hours, he relaxed under Logan’s admission. “Okay, as long as you know.”
That was when Logan stepped back, removed his glasses, and tossed them on the table. Tate tugged his open jeans back up his body, and as Logan ran a hand through his own hair, he let out a breath and muttered, “I know, believe me. Watching you leave, with no plan to return, isn’t something I want to witness again any time soon. Now, let’s shower.”
* * *
Logan followed Tate down the hall toward the bathroom and for once, he really wanted this to be special. For the first time in his entire adult life, he cared about what happened to the man in front of him.
Just as Tate turned to his left and was about to disappear through the door, Logan reached out and took his arm. Pulling him back, so he was in the dimly lit hall, Logan stepped in to him until Tate’s back was against the wall, and he was against his chest.
Cupping Tate’s face, Logan pressed his lips to the parted ones in front of him. He was relentless in his quest to hear the answer he craved. “Do you forgive me?”
Tate reached down between them and began unbuckling Logan’s belt as he denied him once again, “No.”
Logan rested his forehead against Tate’s, as fast fingers unfastened his button and zipper.
“Tell me why I should. Give me a reason,” Tate suggested.
“Because,” was all Logan could come up with as Tate’s hand pushed down into his pants, taking him in his palm.
“Because?” Tate repeated back to him.
“Yeah, because.”
“But you told me that because is never a good reason,” Tate reminded him as he let go of Logan’s aching skin. He slipped away, making his way into the bathroom.
Frustrated with himself for this entire situation, Logan squeezed his eyes shut and counted to thirty. He was close to finally being in control of himself when he heard the water turn on in the next room.
Oh hell. He had no chance of winning this game, and he knew it. He would do anything to hear Tate say he was forgiven, even if that meant sitting outside the bathroom while he showered, but hopefully that wouldn’t be the case.
Making his way into the tiled room, the first thing Logan saw over in the corner was the pair of jeans Tate had been wearing. He then focused on the man who was standing under the spray of water, and he felt his cock weep as he watched him run a soapy sponge all over his tanned body. When Tate then turned toward him, he dropped the sponge and lifted his hands to smooth them back through his hair, and Logan was rendered useless.