“I want to watch what you’re doing to me.” Tate emphasized by propelling his hips forward.

The fist around him disappeared, and he was rolled onto his back, a position he wasn’t quite comfortable with yet in the presence of—well, this man.

“Um…”

“Relax, Tate.” Logan lay on his side, angled toward him, smoothing his hand over and around Tate’s eager cock. “Now, roll this way, would you? And turn your fucking brain off.”

Tate did as he was told and turned to face Logan with a scowl.

“I should tell you, that expression on your face? It doesn’t upset me. It just turns me on even more.”

“Fuck you,” Tate groused, feeling the hand around him tug hard enough to make him grit his teeth and hiss.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that just yet?”

Tate, determined not to be provoked, slid his fingers into Logan’s black hair and took a firm hold until he saw Logan wince. Pulling him the short distance between them, Tate told him, “Probably not, but maybe a good fucking would finally shut your goddamn mouth.”

The palm around him stroked over his aroused flesh, and Tate angled his hips toward it, watching as a depraved smile spread across the lips only inches from him.

“You’re welcome to try, but unless something’s shoved in my mouth, I have to tell you, it’s next to impossible to ever shut me up.”

Tate decided to ignore that comment, and instead, he dropped his gaze down between them, prompting Logan to follow suit. The sight that greeted Tate took his breath away as much from the unfamiliarity of what he was seeing as the wonderfully salacious feelings he was experiencing.

Both of their engorged cocks were lined up against one another, dripping with excitement, and as Logan’s hand clasped them both, Tate couldn’t resist wrapping his own palm over the top.

Fascinated at what he was witnessing, Tate watched avidly as Logan’s slightly longer shaft glided up against his and poked out from where their hands ended, rubbing against his own aching erection. As a rasping breath was torn from Tate’s throat, Logan’s free hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him forward.

“Seen enough?”

Tate glanced back to Logan, “Why?”

“Because I really want to come all over you.”

Tate’s breathing faltered at the thought, and he stilled Logan’s hand. “What should I do?”

Logan leaned in, kissing him quickly. “Whatever feels good.”

Tumbling to his back, Tate forgot his aversion to the position as he brought Logan up over him, stretching out, so their bodies were touching from chest to toe. When Logan’s hand left him, Tate moaned from the loss until it came up to rest by his head, and Logan started to thrust against him in earnest.

Tate didn’t know how he felt in that wholly defining moment.

As he lay beneath Logan, he concentrated on the hot ache between his legs and the amazing pressure Logan was grinding down onto his shaft, with every perfect stroke. At the same time, Tate was clinging to two strong arms supporting a man who was currently undulating his entire body against him.

That was when he realized that Logan was dominating him. Logan was clearly the one in control in this position. It was a position that Tate usually used with women, and as he focused on Logan licking that sexy lip of his, Tate admitted to himself, I fucking love it.

Tate pressed his head back into the pillow and bent his legs as Logan had earlier, so he could lift himself up to receive more of the full-bodied massage Logan was giving to him.

Over and over, Logan’s brawny frame stroked his as Tate registered all the differences about him—the hair on his body, the power in his thighs, and the cut muscles of the abdomen— moving against his own. The moment was almost surreal. Reaching for a way to anchor himself to reality, Tate stretched his hand up to touch the coarse hair lining Logan’s chiseled jaw.

He was in bed with a man and not just any man. Logan Mitchell, who was about as manly as Tate could find—

Does that bother me? No, Tate discovered, it really fucking doesn’t.

* * *

While Logan looked down at Tate, and continued his sensual assault, he noticed something in his eyes change. The hand on his jaw moved toward his hair, and Tate took his mouth in a savage kiss, finally enjoying the full strength and power humming between them.

Logan returned the kiss equally as hungry, nipping at the lips under his before sliding his tongue inside to twist with the eager one that met him. With a stifled groan, Logan inched his way down Tate’s body and kissed the guy’s chest. Giving one of his nipples a quick lick, Logan continued his trail down to suck and taste the heated skin of Tate’s ribs, navel, and finally his abs, just as he’d been fantasizing about.

Looking up at Tate from where he was now situated down between his thighs, Logan could feel the other man’s erection pressing against his collarbone while his own was trapped firmly against the mattress, and all he could think was, What a lucky bastard I am to have him in my bed.

* * *

Raising his head off the pillow, Tate peered down his body at Logan. The guy was running his tongue all over the muscles of his stomach, and occasionally dipping it inside his navel. Staring at his erection pressed up against Logan’s chest, he thought, What a turn-on to see him using that mouth on me.

A rumbled moan escaped from within, as Tate let his head fall back to the pillow, and a case of nerves kicked in. Logan’s arms moved under his bent legs, and as his body was lifted off the mattress, Tate felt the tongue that had just been flirting with his navel lick up the underside of his shaft.

“Yes,” he hissed out on a shaky breath.

With one hand, Tate reached down to grip the base of his cock, and pushed it up for Logan’s insatiable mouth. Tate watched eagerly, as Logan glanced up at him and seductively swiped his tongue across the head and slit of his cock.

“Oh, fucking hell. Your mouth is a goddamn menace.”

As the words left Tate’s lips, Logan removed his mouth and hands and crawled up his body until he was back between Tate’s thighs, and then Logan’s mouth was kissing the hell out of him.

Tate felt a hand in his hair as their shafts became reacquainted in a deliciously hard and sticky slide. He held Logan’s head with one hand and moved his other to his ass, and all Tate could think was, I want him closer. Digging his fingers into the firm ass cheek under his palm, he pulled Logan as near as he could get him.

Oh, would you look at that?

Tate’s fingers clenched into the solid muscle again, and Logan’s hips slammed into his.

He likes that.

And just as Tate thought it, Logan tore his mouth away.

* * *

“Do that again,” Logan requested on a harsh rush of air.

When Tate’s fingers curled over his ass cheek, he’d thought that would be it. Just the fact that Tate was anywhere near his ass was getting him beyond excited—

And that he did it himself without me having to ask? Even better.

It had first happened in the bathroom, but he’d chalked that up to Tate being in shock from all the nudity—

Apparently not.

“You mean this?” Tate inquired, as he squeezed Logan’s ass again.

Yes, you tease.

Logan let out a shaky laugh. “You’re a cocktease, Tate Morrison. Who would have known?”

Logan was stunned that Tate was comfortable enough to laugh, and—ah, fuck yeah—grab his ass with both hands.

“Now, that’s something I’ve never been accused of before.”

“What? Being a tease?”

Tate brought his head up and kissed him quickly before whispering against his mouth, “No. Being a cocktease.” He emphasized with a quick jab of his hips against Logan’s.

Bracing his palms on either side of Tate, Logan watched him slowly lower his head back to the pillow as he continued to knead his ass.

“But you have been called a tease?”

Tate gave him an arrogant look he’d never seen before.

“I prefer to call it foreplay.”

Logan shook his head and nudged his body against the groin cradling his not-so-patient erection. “I call it torture.”

“Ah, don’t lie,” Tate admonished with the same shit-eating expression. “You like me playing with your ass. Every time I do, you buck your hips against me like you wish you were inside me.”

Logan cursed loudly as Tate traced a curious finger across the top curve of his ass cheek, stopping at the base of his tailbone, hovering directly over the start of his crack.

 “You’re playing with fire,” Logan warned the daring man under him.

“Am I?”

“Yes. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you like to tease and talk dirty.”

 Tate’s sneaky finger drew flirty tiny circles over his tailbone. He was totally caught in the moment, aroused, and ready to try anything.

“Tate?” Logan asked in a voice that sounded as though he’d swallowed gravel.

“Yeah?” Tate’s curious gaze focused on him.

“Give me your left hand.”

Logan wasn’t sure that he would, but apparently, the time for hesitation was over. Tate wanted this as much as he did. He raised his left hand, and Logan took it, bringing it to his lips where he sucked the two middle fingers into his mouth.

As he stared down at the man beneath him, with the messy curls and the fiery eyes, Logan swirled his tongue along the long digits until they were wet, and Tate’s body was now writhing under his own.