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Tate’s cock seemed to understand because it proudly proclaimed its interest in the action it wanted.

“Get into bed,” Logan coaxed.

“I think I better stay here while we talk.”

“We’re still talking?” Logan asked in a tone that suggested he was over the conversation section of the evening.

“This is a big deal for me. You might be used to putting your dick wherever and whenever, but mine has only visited pussy, and I’m freaking out a little. So, would you hang on, and cut me some slack?”

* * *

While Tate stood there, seemingly trying to get his brain to catch up with his eager body, Logan took in all of his lean muscles and smooth, tanned torso. Mmm. Tate hardly had any body hair over his burnished brown skin, and Logan couldn’t wait to run his tongue all over it.

Deciding to play nice, Logan relented, “Okay, I’ll cut you some slack. Why don’t you tell me what else is bothering you?”

Logan hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t what he got.

“You, sleeping with everything that moves.” Tate moved cautiously around to the empty side of the bed.

Logan tried to concentrate, but all he kept coming back to was, Tate is standing here, naked in my bedroom.

 “Logan?” Tate waited for a response.

Turning on his side, Logan watched as Tate slowly placed a knee on the bed. “What?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Honestly? No.” Logan sat up, grabbed Tate’s hand, and tackled him down onto the bed until he was hovering over him.

“Mmm,” Logan half-groaned as he finally pressed his naked erection against Tate’s. “You’re worried about me with other people while I’m fucking you. Aw, I think you care, Mr. Morrison.”

“I think you mean while I’m fucking you. Don’t you?”

Logan became amused as Tate glared up at him, obviously aggravated he’d been overpowered, and even more so at Logan’s words.

It may have been crazy, but seeing Tate irritated was fast becoming one of Logan’s biggest turn-ons.

Placing his hands by Tate’s head, he lowered himself until he was by his ear. “Minor details.”

Tate turned his head on the pillow until their lips were only inches apart, and he released a low grunt as Logan rolled his hips over him.

“Important ones, wouldn’t you say?” Tate asked.

Logan flicked his tongue out, tracing it across Tate’s upper lip, and when they parted, he promised, “I know what we agreed to, and what you think you want. But I will end up inside you.” He emphasized exactly which part of him he was referring to, by flexing his hips against Tate. “And you’ll beg me to be there. I guarantee it.”

A hand slid up into Logan’s wet hair and palmed the back of his head as the other held his pumping hips, halting his moves.

“And everyone else?” Tate asked on a labored breath.

Logan noted with great interest that Tate hadn’t objected to what he’d just told him, and for the first time in his life, he answered, “Right now, there is nobody else.”

That seemed to be what Tate was waiting for because he pushed up and rolled Logan to his back where he waited for Tate’s next move.

Tate stared down at the man whose naked body was perfectly aligned with his, wanting to look at all the muscles he was feeling. He also wanted to touch, and he was positive, while glancing at Logan’s full mouth, that he wanted to take a good, long taste as well.

Logan’s legs bent, and parted at the knees, so Tate took a moment to settle against the groin cradling him.

God, that feels really good.

It was so good that Tate nestled his hips against Logan’s shaft—only this time, harder.

Tate continued to test out the new sensation as Logan’s eyes slid closed, and his jaw clenched. Everything about this moment, with his new choice of bed partner, was so different, yet it was all essentially the same.

“Jesus, this…this feels fucking amazing.” Tate applied more pressure to the downward grind of his hips.

Blazing blue eyes opened to focus on him as Logan’s hands smoothed down his sides, causing Tate’s body to shudder.

Logan rose up from the mattress to press his lips to Tate’s ear. “We haven’t even gotten to the best parts yet,” he promised as he bit Tate’s lobe, pushed his hips up, and really started to move.

The guy’s hips were like a well-oiled machine. Not only did he press them firmly up against Tate’s, but Logan then also arched his body at an angle, gliding his steel-like length, firmly along the sensitive underside of his own. It was all done in the exact right way to make Tate’s eyes want to roll to the back of his fucking head.

With a strangled groan, Tate pulled back and shuffled down the bed a little, moving away from Logan. When he was kneeling between Logan’s legs, he took a long look at all that was spread out in front of him.

Logan’s feet remained planted on either side of him, and his erection pointed directly to the face that had first captured Tate’s attention. Tate trailed his eyes over the rigid abdomen until he reached that face where he found an expression of heated lust looking back at him, and immediately, Tate began fisting his own cock.

That was when he also discovered that being watched by Logan ramped up his urge to come by around one hundred notches.

“Come back down here,” Logan invited as his hands moved between his legs.

Tate’s fist tensed around himself when Logan dipped his hand down to cup his own sac while he pressed his other palm against his shaft.

“Not just yet. I’m getting used to this view,” Tate replied.

A grated curse left Logan’s mouth as he elevated his hips off the bed, allowing Tate a better view. “You’d enjoy it even more from down here.”

“I don’t know,” Tate pondered, watching Logan’s hand fondle the flesh he was cradling. “This is working pretty good for me.”

“Well, do you at least want some lube? It’d make things…easier.” Logan teased his bottom lip with his tongue.

Nodding, Tate was almost disappointed when Logan had to stop what he had been doing as he rolled to his side, opened a drawer in the nightstand, and grabbed a small black bottle. Instead of handing it over, Logan kneeled in front of him and looked him in the eye. As the bottle was undone, Tate stopped moving.

And Logan told him, “Let me.”

* * *

Logan poured some of the cool liquid into his palm and shuffled in closer. “Here, let me.”

Tate slowly let go of his straining erection.

Logan clasped the back of Tate’s neck, drawing him in to take his lips. This time, there was absolutely no hesitation in the way Tate opened his mouth, or grasped his shoulders to steady himself while he granted the access Logan was demanding of him. Dipping his tongue inside the heat of Tate’s mouth, Logan moved his hand forward and wrapped a firm fist around the base of him.

“Logan,” Tate groaned, wrenching his head back as his eyes shut and his teeth came down to sink into his lower lip.

Logan stroked his slippery palm up Tate’s engorged length, watching his face go from sexual torment to one of pure, unadulterated lust while his hips moved, driving his cock through Logan’s fist.

“Open your eyes,” Logan demanded as he continued to pump his hand up and down.

When Tate obeyed, and met Logan’s stare, he could tell that Tate had finally let go of all thoughts and was just feeling in this moment.

“Good?”

“Fuck yes,” Tate rasped, right before he cupped Logan’s face and tackled him backward onto the bed.

When Logan’s back hit the mattress, he managed to get his legs out from under him and parted enough before Tate landed back between them. Raising his knees on either side, he tightened them at Tate’s waist while he continued to stroke the pulsating hardness in his hand.

Logan could feel his own cock restricted between their bodies as Tate took his mouth in a rough kiss, and his hips rocked forward on top of him. As a greedy tongue shoved between his lips to tangle with his own, Logan released his hold and shifted positions, so his own shaft came into direct contact with Tate’s.

Just as he was about to encircle them together in his hand, Tate lifted his mouth and pinned him with a stare.

“Why’d you stop?”

Logan wrapped his palm around them both, groaning as he gave a solid squeeze of his fist, and he was satisfied only when he heard a similar noise leave Tate.

“I wanted to give you your first cock rub, or as it’s sometimes referred to, and my personal favorite, an Ivy League rub. You don’t mind, do you?” Logan asked the inquisitive man above him.

Arching his pelvis, Logan pushed through his palm, creating a hot friction against Tate’s sensitive erection.

“Oh, holy shit,” Tate cursed out on a sharp breath.

“My sentiments exactly,” Logan agreed and craned up to press his lips to Tate’s. “Now, stick your tongue in my mouth and feel me.”

* * *

Tate had no problem with that. Pressing his mouth to Logan’s, he plunged his tongue between the lips that had been driving him crazy since they’d first met as the raw pleasure of his first—What did Logan call it? Ivy League rub? Of course, it sounds pretentious—flooded through him.

Tate really wanted to see what was going on between his legs. “I want to…”

“You want to what?”