Trust (Temptation #3)

by Ella Frank

  “It makes me want to strip you naked and do all kinds of indecent things to you.”

  After chuckling against Logan’s mouth, Tate drew his head away. “Then come inside and I’ll see what I can do about accommodating you.”

  “Will you now?”

  Damn right I will. It didn’t matter how late or how tired he was—Tate always became interested at the teasing tone in Logan’s voice. The man was sex on legs, and he wanted him, which made Tate feel like the luckiest fucker on the planet.

  Licking his lips as he opened the door, he thought about their texts from earlier. “If I remember correctly, you wanted to know some extra details before you would even consider me for possible positions.”

  Logan’s body brushed the back of his as they stepped inside, and when his strong fingers gripped Tate’s waist, any blood that was left inside his head found the quickest route to his cock.

  “Oh, trust me when I say that I’ve considered you in every possible position. The problem is narrowing it down to which one I’d train you in first.”

  Tate shut his eyes and leaned back against Logan as his arms wrapped around his waist and he lowered a hand down to palm his rapidly growing erection.

  “Train me, huh? And exactly how long would this…training take?”

  He heard his front door shut and knew that Logan had to have kicked it closed. Then warm lips were pressing kisses down the side of his neck.

  “I don’t know. A long time. But I don’t want to wait outside your apartment every night for the rest of my life.”

  Tate angled his head to lock eyes with Logan. But before he could say anything in response, Logan squeezed his fingers around his hard-on, causing him to drop his helmet to the floor.

  “God, Logan.”

  “Hmm. I might be persuaded to wait around for that sound. I used to dream about you groaning my name. It’s so fucking hot. Like I’m already inside you. Do you want that? Me inside you? Right here? Right now?”

  Tate tried to concentrate on what he was being asked, but Logan’s voice was close to hypnotic as he continued massaging him through his dress pants.

  “Yes,” he managed, and then he brought one of his own hands down to push Logan’s harder against himself. “I want that.”

  He could feel Logan’s arousal against his ass as his other hand came around to the buckle of his belt.

  “So do I. In fact, I think we should see what it would be like if you came home to me every night. I’d take good care of you. Especially when you’re tired and worn out.”

  Tate closed his eyes against the persuasive suggestion and reminded himself that he had good reasons for declining Logan’s initial invitation—even though, for the life of him, he couldn’t think of any right now.

  Logan kissed and sucked his way down to the collar of his work shirt, his cologne filling Tate’s nose and clouding his senses as his black hair tickled his cheek.

  “Well…what do you say?”

  There was nothing he wanted more than to say yes, but… “I could always give you a key.”

  Logan lifted his head and flicked his tongue over Tate’s lobe. “You could, or…”

  “Or?”

  “Or you could just move in with me.”

  Tate knew he was in deep shit. When Logan wanted something, he was relentless until he either got it or knew the reason why he was being denied. He’d been in that particular scenario with him when they’d first met. Logan had been hell-bent on getting him in his bed, and nothing had stopped him from going after what he wanted. Not even the words I’m straight had been a deterrent.

  Now look at us, Tate thought as the button on his pants was undone and his zipper pulled down. He was finding it more and more difficult to keep track of the conversation as Logan slid his hand into his boxers, all the while making promises that sounded really fucking amazing.

  “My bed every night. Waking up together every morning. No late-night trips. No more ‘when will you be by’ texts. Just us. Together. Always.”

  But as his words ran over and over in Tate’s mind, he kept tripping over the same two.

  “My bed. My bed.” It’s Logan’s bed. Not mine.

  “Logan,” he said as warm fingers finally wrapped around his naked cock.

  “Hmm?”

  “I can’t.”

  Logan’s body tensed behind him, but his hand didn’t stop what it was doing as he asked, “Why?”

  Tate was close to begging him to either stop or finish him off, but—

  “Why, Tate?”

  Jesus, what’s my reason again? He clenched his teeth together, biting back a curse of pleasure. “I… Damn, Logan. I can’t fucking think when you’re doing that.”

  He heard a strangled groan of frustration come from behind him, and then strong fingers twisted in his hair and pulled his head to the side. Logan’s tongue traced a line up his neck to his ear.

  “You sexy, stubborn man.”

  Tate remained silent as Logan walked them down the hall to his bedroom, and when they stopped and a light switched on, Logan told him, “Don’t move a muscle.”

  * * *

  Logan fucking loved it when Tate got like this. When he obeyed without question. It was a pretty good indicator that he’d let all other thoughts go and was just in the moment.

  He’d been impatient all day to meet up with Tate, wanting to talk to him about what Cole had said. But as usual, the minute he’d seen him, he had wanted nothing more than to get close and remind himself that what they had—though it was progressing at record pace—was very real.

  He hadn’t been lying last night, and ever since he’d admitted to himself that he wanted Tate in his home, to share it with him, he’d wondered if Tate felt the same—or if he ever would. Walking around to stand in front of him, Logan ran his eyes over Tate, and fuck, he was thankful he was his.

  Oh yeah. This man with the soft curls, unfastened pants, and fuck-me-now eyes. He is all mine…even if he is being a pigheaded ass at the moment.

  He reached out and fingered the tie knotted at the base of Tate’s throat before pulling it out from behind the vest. As the narrow strip of material came free, Logan wound it around his hand, tugging on it until Tate’s mouth was only an inch from his own, and raised an eyebrow.

  “I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this.”

  Tate’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Apparently, Tate was as excited by the idea as he was.

  “My tie?”

  Logan released the material and stroked his palm down the vest covering Tate’s chest, and then he wrapped his fingers around his rigid length and started to give him a slow hand job.

  “No. This uniform,” he said as he kissed the stubble on Tate’s jaw. “I want you on your hands and knees with these pants down just enough to see your perfect ass.”

  “Fuck, Logan.”

  “And your shirt and this vest? I want you to keep them on also. I want to feel them against my skin as I sink inside you.”

  Logan released his hold on him before he took the tie again. Pulling on it, he brought Tate’s head forward so he could crush their mouths together in a demanding kiss, and when Tate’s lips parted, Logan slid his tongue inside to taste the pliant man swaying toward him.

  As a moan ripped from the back of Tate’s throat, Logan pulled away and spun him around to whisper in his ear, “Get on the bed, Tate.”

  He silently watched as Tate kicked his shoes off, went to his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube and a condom, and climbed on his bed exactly as requested. Without question, he dropped them both by his leg and positioned himself on his hands and knees, waiting.

  Logan stood at the foot of the mattress and took in the picture Tate made, all the while thanking God that he had permission to touch what he was seeing. Because there is no fucking way I’d have the willpower to leave.

  “You look un-fucking-real,” he murmured, reaching for his belt.

  As he unfastened it, the metal sound of the buckle h
ad Tate looking over his shoulder at him with fevered eyes. Logan gave him a shameless smirk and slowly pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans before dropping it on the floor. After removing his sweater and tossing it aside, he kicked his shoes off and stood in only his jeans and socks.

  Tate’s eyes ran all over him, his skin heating as they went, and when he licked his lower lip as though he couldn’t wait for whatever he was about to get, Logan felt his cock pound behind his zipper.

  Fucking hell, the guy is gonna make me come before I even get close enough to touch him.

  Tate must have noticed the effect his perusal was having, because his eyes lowered to the more-than-obvious bulge in his pants, and he watched with a ravenous expression as Logan unbuttoned and unzipped.

  He pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor and took his socks off to stand naked. He then placed a knee on the end of the bed and asked, “You ready for this, Tate?”

  If the way Tate pushed his ass in the air toward him was any indication, he was more than ready. But Logan wanted a verbal response before he went any further. Making his way up the bed, he gripped the sides of Tate’s dress pants and boxers and pulled them over the curve of his ass.

  “Perfect,” Logan praised as he smoothed his palm over the tan globe of Tate’s cheek. “I know I’ve said this before, but your ass is fucking perfect.”

  “Hmm.” A deep rumble left Tate’s throat as Logan dug his fingers into his hip and pulled him back toward him. “Logan.”

  “Love the way you say my name like that,” he confessed, and then he grabbed Tate’s other hip so he could rub his throbbing arousal against all of that bared flesh. “Say it again.”

  Tate dropped his messy head of curls forward and rasped, “Logan…”

  Logan drew a teasing fingertip across the base of Tate’s spine, and when he reached the shadowy cleft, he flirted with it, pushing his finger down between the hot crevice.

  “Yes, just like that. I want to hear it just like that when I push my cock inside you. Got it?”

  Tate’s body vibrated under his hands, and Logan gave a seductive chuckle as he lowered himself over him and brushed his hair aside. When he placed his lips to Tate’s ear, Logan stroked his hands down the sides of his thighs and ground his hard-on against him, delighting in the harsh cry that left Tate’s throat.

  “You want it, don’t you, Tate?”

  When Tate didn’t immediately answer, Logan jammed his hips against him—hard.

  “You can have it. You can have me whenever you like. However you like. But it would be much easier if we were living together. Don’t you think?”

  “Jesus,” Tate cursed, gripping Logan’s hand where it rested on his upper thigh. “You’re seriously asking me that now?”

  “I’m just trying to make a point…”

  Tate pushed up, and when they were both kneeling and the vest covering his back was against Logan’s front, he turned his head to face him. “How about you make it after you fuck me?”

  Logan bit Tate’s bottom lip, then he grinned against that irritated mouth and shoved his shoulder so he was back on all fours. “You’re a very bossy bottom, Mr. Morrison.”

  “Like you aren’t,” Tate mumbled, and then he grunted when Logan pinched his ass.

  “We aren’t talking about me,” Logan reminded him as he grabbed the bottle of lube, opening it. With a slick finger, he traced down to Tate’s hole and gently pressed it inside.

  “Holy shit,” Tate whispered, grabbing his cock and starting to work it.

  “I believe we were discussing your penchant for being stubborn and, on occasion…bossy.” Logan pulled his finger free of the hot hole it had found, and when he slowly pushed it back in, Tate let out a hiss of air. “When you get all mouthy like that, it drives me fucking crazy.”

  Harsh breathing filled the bedroom as Logan worked Tate over one finger at a time. He could tell by the way Tate’s arm had started a more rapid movement beneath him that his arousal was getting to that breaking point. That fevered edge when, soon, he wouldn’t give a fuck what was done to him. He’d just want to come—and that’s exactly where Logan wanted him.

  With his fingers buried deep inside, Logan made sure to widen and then drag them out, hitting that small bundle of nerves that had Tate dropping forward and pressing his cheek to the pillow. He crowded down over him and removed his fingers, to then plant both hands by Tate’s head as he wedged his cock against his ass.

  “Now you’re ready, aren’t you?”

  * * *

  “Yes,” Tate replied without hesitation. “Hell yes, Logan. Do it.”

  Tate was pretty sure that, if he were any more ready, he’d come all over his sheets before Logan’s cock got even halfway inside him. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and pumped his hips, sliding his dick through his closed fist as Logan’s thick length teased and tormented him with each glide between his ass cheeks.

  “Another perk—and I’m just adding this because, honestly, stopping for a condom right now is gonna just about kill me. If you move in with me, we could certainly discuss forgoing this step and be able to come all hot and sticky inside—”

  “Oh, fuck…fuck!” Tate cried out, and there was no way in hell he could stop his orgasm as it hit and exploded all over his hand and sheets. He felt Logan still behind him and was about to speak when a strong hand flattened on his shoulder and pushed him down to his stomach.

  “You did not just come,” Logan growled in disbelief.

  Tate tried to hold back a laugh at Logan’s shocked tone.

  But when Logan’s lips found his ear and he whispered, “You fucker,” Tate lost it and a chuckle slipped free.

  “Oh, you think this is funny do you?” Logan asked, clearly frustrated and aroused.

  Tate bucked against the solid wall of muscle pinning him to the mattress and reveled at the hard length that was still rubbing over his ass. “It’s not my fault you never shut up. I told you.”

  “You know what I think?” Logan asked before he pressed his lips to Tate’s cheek when he turned his head on the pillow. “I think the thought of me coming in your tight ass made you so fucking hot you lost it.”

  He couldn’t deny that. It had been that final visual that had sent him over the edge, but it had also been the thought of coming in Logan that had finally done it.

  “Am I right?”

  He couldn’t resist teasing Logan as he rolled over underneath him and kissed his mouth. “You’re half right.”

  “And still fully hard.”

  Tate widened his legs, and when Logan fit his body against him, the way he nestled their groins together made him arch his hips.

  “Well, if you hadn’t been so busy pushing your agenda, you would be inside me right now instead of lying here, frustrated.”

  Logan’s eyes scanned his face, and after he leaned down and took his lips in a fierce kiss, he told him, “Don’t you worry about me. I can work with this just fine.”

  Tate watched with complete focus as Logan pushed up on both hands and dragged the lower half of his body over his in a sensual rub.

  With Logan naked and hovering above him, Tate was more than happy to lie there and enjoyed the view. He knew what Logan was about to do and had absolutely no problem being used by this man for his pleasure.

  The muscles in Logan’s arms bunched as he flexed his hips and thrust his engorged erection over Tate’s sticky flesh, connecting their cocks on every stroke of his body. His eyes latched on to Tate’s and stayed there as his full lips parted and he swiped his tongue over them.

  Tate couldn’t drag his eyes off him, and he wondered how Logan would react if he started talking. So, as he pulled Logan down to grind against him a little harder, he began to do just that.

  “It’s so hot when you use me to get off.”

  Logan’s eyes darkened at his words, and his thrusts picked up pace.

  “The way your face gets so serious, like you’ll kill anyone who dares to interrupt your pleas
ure. And so you should, because, Logan?” he teased, leaning up so he could sink his teeth into Logan’s jaw. “You’re so fucking sexy when you’re turned on. The thought of your come inside me definitely made my balls ache, but it was the thought of filling your ass with mine that really sent me over the edge.”

  Logan’s jaw clenched as his body tensed above him, and then his eyes shut and he shouted Tate’s name so loud that he made his ears ring. As his cry of pleasure finally subsided, Tate felt warm fluid drip onto his lower abdomen.

  “You dirty-talking tease,” Logan accused as he lowered his body down on top of him.

  “One of my best qualities, wouldn’t you say?”

  Logan’s lips skimmed his chin as he agreed, “I most certainly would.”

  “I know,” Tate said, feeling smug that he’d, in his own way, won this round with Logan. It was a rare event. That was for sure.

  “Hey?” Logan asked, breaking through his thoughts.

  “Yeah?”

  “You trust me, right?”

  The question was so out of place and so serious that it brought Tate out of his relaxed, sexual lethargy real fucking fast.

  “Of course,” he replied and sat up as Logan moved off him to lie by his side. “Why did you ask me that?”

  Logan licked his top lip and looked beyond his shoulder.

  “Logan?” Tate asked, waiting until he had his attention again. “Why would you ask me that? You know I trust you or I wouldn’t be here with you.” Then Tate remembered where Logan had been earlier today. “What happened at Cole’s this morning?”

  Logan rolled to his back and looked at the ceiling. “Nothing.”

  “You’re a terrible liar,” Tate told him as he undid his vest and shirt.

  Logan shook his head on the pillow and said, “Fuck, I hope not. Most days, my career depends on that.”

  “On lying?”

  “On being…convincing.”

  Tate moved to the side of the bed and stood to undress. Then he turned the light off and climbed back in. “Well, you’ve never had a problem being that. But you still didn’t answer me.”

  “And you haven’t answered me.”