Элла Франк - Try

“I did. I couldn’t help myself.”

Tate ran his tongue along his bruised lower lip, trying to soothe the still stinging spot, and his breathing became more labored as he realized he could feel more than his own erection throbbing against him.

“Um—”

Logan, arrogant as ever, cut him off. “Yes, Tate?”

Tate cleared his throat. “I think you should back up a bit.”

In usual Logan fashion, he didn’t follow any kind of direction but his own. He stepped in closer, if that were possible, and then pushed his hips hard against Tate’s.

“I think you like me exactly where I am. It’s just taken you until now to realize it.”

Tate’s heart thundered uncontrollably in his chest as he noticed he was still gripping the lapels of Logan’s jacket. He quickly let go as if his hands were on fire.

“Back up, Logan,” he repeated.

Something in his tone must have broken through because Logan slowly took a step back. He pushed his hands into his pockets as though he didn’t trust himself. Tate silently thanked him for that because he didn’t trust himself at this moment either. He wasn’t sure if his feelings stemmed from violence or—

Or what?

“You must feel really great right about now.” Tate ran a seriously shaky hand over his face.

“I do actually, but not because of the reason you think.”

“And what do I think?” Tate dropped his hand to his side.

“You think it’s because I finally got you to admit that you want me.”

“I didn’t admit that.”

Logan looked to the zipper of Tate’s jeans, and it took everything Tate had not to cover the erection pounding behind the denim.

“Yes, you did.”

“Fine, whatever. If that isn’t the reason, then what is?”

Tate knew he should move past Logan, grab his helmet, and leave without engaging in a post wrap-up convo, but instead, he stood where he was, waiting for an answer he wasn’t ready to hear.

“I feel great because you are even better than I first fucking thought. And I love being right.”

Shaking his head in adamant denial, Tate straightened and went to move away from the wall. Before he even got one foot in front of the other, Logan took a step of his own toward him and put a hand up on the side of his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

 There was no way that Logan was letting Tate leave the room without getting at least one more taste of his mouth, and this time, he intended to make it a nice, long one.

“Boundaries, Logan. I think you’ve crossed enough with me today,” Tate warned.

“We’ve also established that I have none.”

“This changes nothing. It was a lapse in judgment.”

Logan couldn’t help the low laugh he let free as he tested the firm muscle under his palm. “On the contrary, it changes everything. You didn’t push me away, you kissed me back, and you haven’t taken my hand off you yet.”

As soon as the last word left Logan’s mouth, Tate’s hand came up and gripped his wrist tightly as he pulled him forward.

“I don’t know why you have fixated on me, but this game you’re playing is a dangerous one.”

Logan was sure the smart thing to do would be to agree and back off, but he didn’t.

“I agree, but I never said I’d play fair, and you sure as fuck didn’t fight me off.”

Tate’s scowled, and Logan wondered what he was thinking as the pressure around his wrist intensified.

“You know what you want to do,” Logan encouraged in a seductive tone, thinking he must be losing his mind to be making such a bold move, even for him. “There’s no one here, and no one is going to come in. Just do it,” he whispered, eyes locked on to conflicted brown orbs, “Try.”

As the word left his lips, Tate spun him around until his back was up against the wall, and Tate was crushed against his front, with Logan’s wrist clasped firmly between them.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Tate questioned.

Logan touched his tongue to his top lip as though he’d already had the second taste of the mouth that was sneering at him.

“Only when I have a good incentive. Give me one.” He hauled his arm back closer to himself, drawing Tate in that final inch. “Make me shut up.”

He didn’t really expect the taunt to work, but something in Tate seemed to snap as he lowered his head, attacking his lips for the second time.

Logan, never one to waste an opportunity, parted his mouth, determined to get a full taste of Tate this time around. He raised his free hand and sank it into the curls he’d gripped earlier, but this time, he took a moment to enjoy the feel of them under his palm as he pulled the stubborn man to him.

He felt a tentative tongue touch his lips, and he groaned as he slid his own directly into Tate’s mouth. The hand on his wrist tightened at the intimate intrusion, and then the grip was released. Two large palms reached up and cupped his cheeks, and Tate finally let go.

Angling his head to the side, Logan heard a low rumble leave his own throat as Tate sank his tongue inside, rubbing it up against his own. The sharp taste of cinnamon flooded Logan’s mouth along with the faint hint of coffee and something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Whatever it was, the combination and the fact that it was Tate made it fucking addictive.

The ache that was thrumming in his balls and the constant throb in his swollen shaft was nothing compared to what he felt the moment Tate shocked the hell out of him and bit his bottom lip.

Logan tugged his head back and stared into eyes that were almost black but not showing signs of anger or annoyance. This time, they were dark with lust.

“So?” Logan managed.

“So?” Tate taunted him right back.

Logan, whose back was still up against the wall, looked around the conference room, trying to get his shit back under control. When his eyes finally came back to Tate’s, he raised a questioning brow at the man who had taken a step back. Then Logan watched him move over to the table as calm as he pleased. Tate bent down and picked up his helmet, and Logan couldn’t help but stare at the firm ass covered by those jeans.

Standing silently was definitely new to Logan, and just as he was about to say something witty, he was sure, Tate walked to the door and reached out a palm to grip the handle. Before he turned it though, he looked to Logan and trailed his gaze down over him, and then Tate did something completely out of character.

He winked at him. “So? Now, I’ve tried.”

With that, the sexy fucker walked out the door.

Tate hauled ass out of the office quicker than he’d even realized he could walk. He was holding his helmet in a death grip as he flew past his lawyer and mumbled, “Call me,” on his way directly into the open elevator.

As the doors slid shut, Tate was relieved to find he was alone for the descent. Slumping back against the wall, he brought his hand up and touched his mouth.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Removing it, he closed his eyes and tried to push aside the feeling of Logan’s lips moving so surely against his own. He needed to think about this objectively, and then maybe he would be able to make sense of it all.

To start with, Logan had provoked him. At every opportunity, Logan had pushed and pushed until, like a normal person, Tate had finally snapped—

Right?

Yeah, right.

Tate stared at his reflection in the shiny silver doors. He didn’t look any different than he had before. No, he didn’t look any different, but he sure as hell felt it. He felt it in his whole body, including his confused-as-hell cock.

What was I thinking when I kissed him back?

By the end of the whole exchange, he’d convinced himself that it had been a matter of finally putting Logan in his place. Tate was sick of always being the one left questioning everything after each encounter. So, this time around, his main goal had been to leave the smug bastard wondering. He just hadn’t expected to be left wondering as well.

The elevator hit the ground floor much smoother than his descent to reality, and after the doors pulled open, Tate moved into the lobby of the building. He was halfway to where his bike was parked when his cell phone started buzzing in his jeans.

Stuffing his hand into his pocket, he pulled it out and accepted the call, thinking it was probably his lawyer wondering why he hadn’t waited for his paperwork.

“Hello?” he snapped.

“Running away so soon?”

He would know that voice anywhere.

Damn it.

“So, now, you’re poking around in my file?”

Logan’s familiar chuckle came though the phone. “I could come up with an obvious joke there about poking, but I’ll refrain.”

Tate felt his mouth itch to smile at the other man’s nerve. He had to give it to Logan, for always saying what he thought, unlike himself.

“Is there something you want, Logan?”

“There are several things I want, Tate.”

Tate moved over to the edge of the sidewalk, out of the way of others, and waited.

“Stubborn to the end, I see.”

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m trying to work out exactly why you’re calling me.”

Logan sighed as though he was feeling particularly put out. “Well, you left so abruptly that I hardly had a chance to speak.”

“No, that’s not how I remember it. You were standing shocked shitless, if I recall.”