Logan watched as Tate lay back down, pushing his hips up to him in invitation, and when he raised his eyes, Tate’s expression answered before his words did.
“It’s been real since the moment I realized that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Logan couldn’t help himself from reaching down to his own erection. Steadily, he began to glide his fist up its length.
“And when was that?”
Tate’s eyes grew heavy, and his lips parted as he admitted, “The first night we met.”
Logan trailed his gaze down from Tate’s face to his tanned throat and then on to his leanly muscled chest. “I thought you were fucking gorgeous that night. I was determined to have you.”
“And now?” Tate asked, drawing his attention back up to his face.
Logan released his shaft and ran a finger down Tate’s knee and shin before he looked back at the face staring at him.
“Now, I think you’re gorgeous and about to be mine.”
Tate’s breath caught as Logan’s finger continued to draw a simple path from his knee to his ankle and then back up again. It was nothing, it was everything, and it was driving him out of his mind.
“Logan,” he finally said when the touch alone was no longer enough.
“Yes, Tate?”
Tate swallowed and then just decided to say it. “Lube and condoms are in the side table.”
So what? He’d been preparing for tonight. He’d thought about it several times, and he wasn’t ashamed of that at all, and as Logan slowly backed off the bed, Tate forgot about everything except for how impressive he looked naked.
The muscles of Logan’s thighs bunched as he climbed off the bed and then walked around to the side table where he opened the drawer and grabbed what he needed.
When he turned around to face him full-on, Tate thought he’d never seen someone so attractive in all his life. He’d always known that Logan was sexy, there was no question. Everyone looked at him, both men and women. But as he stood before him—naked, aroused, and looking at him like he wanted him more than his next breath—Tate realized he’d never known physical attraction as strong as this until now.
“God, I love looking at you like this,” he admitted out loud for the first time.
Logan’s eyelids lowered to half-mast as he sheathed and lubed up his cock. Tate couldn’t help but stare at the muscles of Logan’s flexing arm as he began to pump his fist. Reaching down between his own legs, Tate matched the rhythm Logan set and watched as he masturbated with him.
“Keep going,” Logan instructed as he walked back around to stand at the end of Tate’s bed.
Tate tracked him with his eyes, raised his palm, spit in it, and then continued to stroke it over his taut flesh.
“Bend your legs, Tate. Show me everything.”
Logan’s gruff voice filled the room, and Tate didn’t hesitate. He raised his feet until they were flat on the bed, and he widened his legs. He knew that Logan had a full view of his balls and ass, not to mention his cock, and the more Tate thought about it, the more turned-on he became.
“Show me what you did that first time we spoke on the phone. You do remember that night, don’t you? That was the first night you admitted that I made you hard, that you wanted me, that you watched me.”
Logan placed a knee on the mattress and then climbed up onto the bed until he was between Tate’s legs. “You told me that night that you were so hard you could go all night.”
Almost as though in slow motion, Tate watched as Logan reached forward and wrapped his greased up fingers around his own. Tate groaned and pushed his erection through their fingers as Logan asked, “Let’s aim for that.”
Tate spread his legs even wider and pushed his ass off the bed as his slippery cock slid through their fists.
“I want you as hot, hard and desperate as you’ve ever been before, and once you’re there, then I’ll take you. Okay?”
Tate had to wonder how much more desperate he could get, and then he felt it—a slippery finger slid down over his balls and the tight skin behind until it made its way to the cleft of his ass.
“Okay, Tate?”
Tate stared at Logan, and when he saw the sinful smirk that the other man’s mouth had given way to, he knew that he was about to be taken in ways he had never imagined.
Chapter Thirty
Logan kept his eyes on the silent man under him as he bent down between his legs and drew his tongue across Tate’s cock. Tate’s legs tensed and drew up, and Logan immediately moved his hands to Tate’s thighs to hold them apart.
“Hours,” he murmured. “One day soon, I’m going to spend hours down here, touching you, kissing you, sucking on you.” He kissed the skin that had drawn up tight to Tate’s body. “Do you like that idea? My mouth down here for hours? I think you do.”
Logan glanced up Tate’s long torso to the scorching eyes above. He should have known the guy would fire back, even when receiving a thorough tongue-lashing.
“I like it better down there, occupied, than giving me hell as it usually does.”
Logan chuckled and stroked his fingers up the inside of Tate’s tense thighs, running them over the crease of his legs as he continued to taste and suck the heated skin nestled safely between Tate’s legs.
“Careful, Tate, I’m already turned-on. You know how hot I get when you’re mean to me.”
Tate managed to buck up against Logan’s mouth as he lowered his own hand down to stroke his neglected shaft.
“You’re a seriously demented man, Logan,” Tate huffed.
Logan swiped the base of his erection with his tongue. “You love it. Admit it.”
Tate craned his head up to look at him, and Logan began drawing circles with his tongue.
“Admit what?”
“You love everything I’m doing to you,” he mumbled and then maneuvered himself up to his knees.
Once he was there, Logan reached out and clasped one of Tate’s legs under the knee. Lowering down over him and pressing Tate’s thigh to his chest, Logan kissed him as he braced his palm by his shoulder.
“You do, don’t you?” Logan asked again.
This time, he dipped his free hand over Tate’s balls to run his fingers down the hot strip of flesh between his cheeks. Tate’s body tensed, and Logan advised gently, “Relax. Breathe out, and let me in. We’ve already done this, and you loved it.”
“Yes,” Tate sighed against his mouth.
Logan pressed his fingertip to the hot little pucker of skin. “Yes?”
“Yes. I love all of it,” Tate answered.
Gently, Logan eased his finger into Tate’s body as he pressed his lips against Tate’s parted ones. He arrogantly confided, “Oh, I know.”
Tate’s eyes closed then as Logan pushed his tongue into his mouth. He slid his finger farther inside him, and as he felt Tate’s body suck him in, Logan moaned into the mouth moving beneath his own.
“That’s it. Yeah.” He started to push and pull his finger in and out of Tate, over and over. “I can’t wait until this is my cock.”
Tate shuddered, and Logan knew he was thinking it, too.
“Me inside you,” he vowed over Tate’s lips as he pressed two fingers against his rim, “stretching you, taking you, fucking you.”
“Yes, fuck yes,” Tate agreed, jacking himself a little faster.
“It’s gonna be so good that you’ll be thinking about my cock even when I’m nowhere in sight.”
Logan could feel his erection responding to his words as he oh-so slowly eased two of his fingers forward into Tate’s body. Logan could feel him take in a breath and push it out as he worked his index and middle finger inside.
“Oh God, that’s…that’s…”
Tate seemed stuck for words, but it didn’t seem to matter because Logan chose that moment to twist his hand and rub his fingers directly across Tate’s prostate. That well-practiced move had Tate’s hips jamming up sharply into the air and his hand squeezing his cock, hard.
Again, Logan pushed his fingers inside, stretching Tate and trying to get him ready for what was about to happen to him. Tate looked magnificent, lying beneath him. He had one leg bent back against his chest, where Logan held it in place, and the other angled at the knee, against the mattress. His busy hands were frantically working his rigid flesh, and as he stared up at Logan with absolute trust in his eyes, Logan asked, “You okay?”
When Tate nervously licked his lips and nodded, Logan lowered himself and followed the same path, tracing Tate’s mouth with his tongue, before he cursed out at his lack of control. Tunneling his fingers back into the hot, snug home where his cock wanted to take up residence, he admitted, “I want in here so bad, Tate. I have wanted it since we first met.”
Logan pulled his fingers free, and Tate’s breathing came hard as his lips parted, and he told him, “Then, take me.”
He was ready. Fuck. He was beyond ready as Logan’s fingers worked inside him. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, Tate thought as Logan pulled his thick fingers out of him. But every time he’d done it, his fingertips had knocked against that spot where the pleasure was off the fucking chart. So, yes, he wanted to feel the pressure and fullness that Logan’s cock would give to him when it pressed inside him.
“You ready?” Logan asked as he stared down with what looked like an angry expression.
But Tate knew better. He knew it was restrained lust, not anger that was making Logan look like he wanted to kill. Logan wanted him so badly that it was physically hurting him to wait.
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