Take (Temptation Series)

by Ella Frank

  Tate leaned forward, recaptured Logan’s mouth in a heated kiss, and started to undo the buttons of his shirt from the bottom up. As Logan’s tongue entered his mouth, Tate groaned and managed two more buttons.

  Damn, the taste of him. I can’t get enough.

  When he reached the top button, he pushed the shirt apart and drew it off Logan’s shoulders. He pulled his mouth away but didn’t go far as he dropped it on his own discarded shirt. He traced a line to the center of Logan’s sternum and twirled his finger through the short hair smattering his chest, so unlike his own hairless torso.

  “I like this.”

  Logan placed a hand over his, stilling it. “So do I.”

  “I meant the hair.”

  Tate watched as Logan smoothed his hands down his shoulders and chest to his nipples, which he lightly circled.

  “You’re so smooth. I always think like honey.”

  “Honey, huh?” Tate chuckled and then flinched slightly when a finger pinched his nipple.

  “Yes. Sweet,” Logan told him, leaning in to trace his tongue over his lip, “and sticky.”

  He sighed as Logan lowered his mouth to his shoulder and kissed a path over to his neck, where he licked the bruise he’d made that morning. He shivered at the reminder.

  “I want to make another one of these.”

  He felt Logan’s hands at the button of his jeans.

  “Right. Here,” Logan decided as he unbuttoned and unzipped him, touching the tight skin of his lower abdomen.

  “I think you need to be a little more specific.”

  “You do, do you?”

  Tate nodded as Logan’s hands slipped into the seat of his jeans and pushed them down his hips to pool at his knees. “Yes. I think you need to check up close and personal. Find exactly the right spot.”

  Logan squeezed his ass cheeks and quietly ordered, “Lie down for me, Tate.”

  He did as requested, lying down on the sheepskin rug and resting his head back against the pillow he’d put there earlier. He reached down to remove his jeans, and Logan placed a hand on his thigh.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Logan stood up beside him, took off his own jeans, and grabbed a second pillow before he came back down next to him. “Let me.” He gripped both sides of the denim and peeled them down his legs. Then he tugged them free from his ankles and threw them behind him.

  Tate took a quick breath as Logan trailed his fingertips up his shin and knee, making his cock ache even more than it already was.

  When those taunting fingers reached his hips, Logan murmured, “Lift.”

  Tate lifted up, and Logan placed the pillow under him.

  “Perfect.” Then Logan knelt between his thighs and demanded gently, “Bend your legs.”

  The order was so similar to the one he’d given only a week ago that Tate felt a small smile tug at his lips. Oh, how the tables had turned, and he loved that about them. Each was willing to give themselves over to the other.

  As he bent his legs so his feet were flat on the floor, Logan circled his erection and began to masturbate.

  “I love watching you,” Tate spoke up so Logan would hear.

  Logan’s eyes found his, then his tongue swiped a wet path over his top lip. “I love it when you watch me.”

  Tate moved his own hand down to start stroking his cock in response.

  Logan’s eyes followed and his mouth parted around a soft grunt of pleasure as he continued to work himself over.

  Logan taking his pleasure was like watching the sexiest porn video Tate could imagine. It got him hard, horny, and so fucking ready to explode that nothing else was needed, and when Logan turned it all on him, Tate knew he better be ready because he was coming for him—or more likely, he’d be coming for Logan.

  They watched one another for several minutes, and then Logan finally gave a smile that made Tate’s heart thump.

  It wasn’t charming, and it wasn’t cocky. It was sensual, a true representation of Logan’s carnal side. He was like a sleek, sensual animal, and when he released his shaft and crawled his way up so their faces were inches apart, Tate was once again happy to be his prey.

  “I’m going to spend all night inside you. Just like I said I would. But I think I’ll take my time getting there. Slow and steady,” he promised, and Tate couldn’t resist raising his head to kiss him.

  He stroked the backs of his fingers down Logan’s sides, and when he shuddered, Tate realized he’d just discovered something new. “Ticklish?”

  * * *

  Logan didn’t answer. There was no way he was giving that information to a tease like Tate. Instead, he kissed him hard and then pulled away. When he got to his feet, Tate moved up to his elbows and Logan could see the confusion on his face.

  “Where are you—”

  “Condoms, lube. We need them.”

  “Oh.” Tate lay back and settled his head against the pillow. “I was hoping you’d…” he trailed off and had Logan instantly curious.

  “That I’d…?”

  “You know…”

  Logan wondered what he was trying to say. Yeah, they’d definitely come a long way in the past few days, but they still needed to be—

  “Use your tongue.”

  Oh, that’s what he wants. Dirty, dirty Tate.

  Logan grinned thinking about what Tate wanted and then promised, “I’m going to put my tongue in every part of you. But after that,” he stroked his cock and Tate’s hips arched, shoving his own up through his fist, “I’m going to stretch you nice and slow so I can finally have you flat on your back, watching. Watching me take you.”

  Tate nodded, clearly loving that idea, and when Logan spun on his toes to go and get what he needed, he heard his name. He turned back, and Tate’s heavy-lidded eyes were focused directly on him as he pleaded, “Hurry.”

  Fuck. You don’t have to tell me twice. Logan practically sprinted to the bathroom. He got what they needed, and when he came back out into the living room, the sight that greeted him just about destroyed him.

  Tate was still working his cock, but his eyes were closed and he had a second hand down between his legs, under his balls, rubbing the taut strip of skin that led to his hole.

  Logan walked over to stand between his ankles and dropped what was in his hands on the couch, alerting Tate to his presence. When Tate’s eyes opened and spotted him, he started to remove his hand, but Logan did not want that.

  “No. Don’t stop,” he told him, his voice low and strained as he watched Tate move his hand back to where it had been.

  Logan got to his knees and smoothed both of his palms down the top of Tate’s bent legs from his knees to the V of his groin. He continued to stroke Tate’s thighs, first along the top, then down the outside, and finally up the inside as Tate pushed his hips up off the pillow.

  “God, Logan. Do something.”

  Logan curled his hands under Tate’s legs. Then, with his hands firmly behind Tate’s knees, he added enough pressure until his legs were bent back by his chest.

  Tate’s eyes were wide. So was the rest of him as Logan lowered his head and swiped his tongue up the length of his cock.

  “Ahh,” left Tate’s mouth, and Logan repeated the move, nosing his balls before dragging his tongue down his perineum. It wasn’t until one of Tate’s hands clamped onto the back of his head that Logan really let loose.

  He stiffened his tongue and pushed it directly inside Tate’s hole, which was clenching with each wet pass. When he lifted his head to gain a position so he could use his fingers, Tate moaned as if he were disappointed that he’d stopped.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet,” he assured him. “Just getting a better position.” Logan shifted until he was stretched out on his stomach with his dick pressed against the sheepskin wool. “Keep your legs bent back in the air, just like that, okay?”

  Tate said nothing as he lay on his back and grabbed his knees, holding them wide apart, just as he’d
been told.

  Logan kept his palms on the backs of Tate’s thighs, holding him in place, and then lowered his head back down, sucking the skin of his scrotum.

  From this angle, Logan could see it all and he could get his mouth on everything. He kissed and sucked the underside of Tate’s cock down to his tightly scrunched balls. Then he raised his head to bring his fingers into play.

  Tate held his legs out of the way as Logan rubbed two fingers over his pucker, and the sounds coming out of him were fucking unreal. Between the low moan and the panting breaths, Tate had him a hair trigger away from coming before he even got inside. Logan heard his own muffled growl when Tate’s fingers slid into the back of his hair to encourage him to keep going.

  He moved his mouth back down between Tate’s cheeks and tongued his hole before he slowly pressed a finger inside.

  Tate’s curse ricocheted around the high-vaulted ceiling and had Logan moving his finger in and out of him. He raised his eyes to see Tate frantically jerking himself, and when he added a second finger and dragged it over his prostate, stretching him, it was his name Tate chanted in a voice that was thick and full of desire.

  When he was satisfied with the way Tate was responding, Logan removed his fingers, shoved Tate’s thighs high against his chest, and used his tongue to bring Tate to the brink of release—over and over.

  “Logan, fuck…I can’t...please,” he heard from above and lifted his head.

  That was when he felt his heart lift of the burden he’d laid out tonight.

  The man looking at him had nothing but love and trust in his eyes, and Logan knew they were all right—even after everything he’d confessed tonight.

  He lowered Tate’s legs to the rug and leaned over to grab the condom and lube. He was quick with both, making sure to thoroughly slick his cock and Tate’s waiting body. Then he was back between Tate’s legs, lining himself up.

  He’d dreamt about this moment.

  The moment he’d be making love with someone.

  As Tate stared up at him, Logan knew that this was that moment.

  He moved over him, positioned his cock, and slid home.

  * * *

  Tate was ready. God, was he fucking ready.

  Logan had worked him into a frenzied state of all-consuming lust.

  He felt the wide head of Logan’s cock push against him, and he waited for the sharp bite of pain. He must have been too far gone though, because when Logan came down over him and his hips thrust forward, Tate could only groan from the sensation of having him deep inside. Filling him.

  No pain. Just intense pleasure.

  He wrapped his legs around Logan’s hips, and held on as he started to move. He could feel Logan’s lips on his neck and ear as his hips began a slow, torturous roll, rocking their groins together. Tate could hear Logan’s breathing as he pushed his cock in and out of him, causing a beautiful friction.

  Tate brought his hands to Logan’s hair and held on when he braced his hands on either side of him to get more leverage. He angled his hips up and watched Logan’s face as he continued to slide in and out of him and whispered, “I love you.”

  It was clear that this time was different. Each of them looked into the other’s eyes, and Tate could see all that he felt reflected back at him. He arched his neck and felt a hand at the side of his face as Logan brushed a sweaty curl from his cheek.

  He blinked and smiled up at him. Logan closed his eyes as if he couldn’t stand to witness any more emotion, but then Tate realized that wasn’t the case at all.

  Logan’s hips had sped up, his fingers were clutching the rug beneath them, and as he threw his head back, he clenched his teeth and came with fury.

  My emotions aren’t scaring him…they’re sending him over the edge. That revelation was both powerful and so fucking sexy. Tate watched and waited with his legs wrapped around Logan’s waist and his hands on his shoulders.

  Logan opened his amazing blue eyes and smiled down at him. “Want to come? I believe it’s your turn.”

  Tate nodded and was shocked as hell when Logan pulled out, grabbed a second condom, and then slid back inside. He was still fucking erect.

  “But you just—”

  Logan rested his forearms on either side of his head and kissed his shoulder. “Mhmm,” he agreed. “What can I say? You inspire me.”

  Tate cursed as Logan rubbed the entire length of his body over his. Then he moved to the side and reached down to take his cock into his hand. Logan’s palm was slick with lube, and with that added stimulation, Tate was there. His orgasm hit him like a Mack truck and he came all over his stomach and Logan’s hand, with Logan’s cock buried deep inside him.

  His man was something else, and as he opened his eyes and saw Logan smiling down at him, Tate wondered how anyone could be ashamed of being with him.

  He wanted everyone to know—Logan was his.

  24.

  The following morning, Logan suggested they pack a lunch and go for a walk around his property. Tate liked the idea because he got the feeling this was a part of Logan that he rarely, if ever, shared with anyone. It made him feel special to think he’d share it with him.

  They made some sandwiches, and Logan grabbed a bottle of wine, which Tate laughed at. “Sandwiches and wine?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Tate held his hands up. “Nothing.”

  Logan opened the fridge and checked out the contents. “Well, I have beer, wine, and bottled water.”

  “Let’s go with the water. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you get me drunk later and take advantage.”

  Logan grabbed several bottles and put them in the backpack. “If I’m lucky, huh? Maybe you’ll be the lucky one.”

  Tate knew Logan was joking but couldn’t help from telling him seriously, “I’m already the lucky one.”

  He saw Logan stop what he was doing and grip the handles of the bag. When he walked around the kitchen counter, he stopped beside him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

  “See? You are sweet.”

  Tate turned his head and returned the kiss before lightly nipping Logan’s bottom lip. “Not always.”

  Logan’s eyes sparkled at him, and when he pulled away and walked toward the door, Tate heard, “Thank God.”

  When they got outside, Tate put his sunglasses on and reached for Logan’s hand. Funny that, even dressed in shorts and a shirt, Logan still looked like he was ready for a runway. Always so put together. The only difference was the short beard he was now sporting.

  “You going to keep that?” he asked, pointing to the scruff.

  Logan reached up to stroke the hair on his face and shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you like it?”

  “I do. But I like you clean-shaven too.”

  Logan seemed to contemplate that for a moment as they walked down the road leading away from the house and toward the back pond. “The beard was my second act of rebellion.”

  Tate stepped a little ahead of him, and turned so he was walking backwards. “What was the first?”

  “I smashed my fucking coffee table.”

  Tate stopped. “You did not.”

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  Logan stepped forward, took his chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted his face up. “The night you told me to fuck off.”

  “I never said, ‘Fuck off,’” Tate reminded him. “I said I needed space.”

  Logan’s eyes flickered over his face and he growled, “Never again, Tate. I said we were making new rules. One of them is no fucking silence. If you need space, you can have it...maybe. But you don’t get to ignore me for a week.”

  Tate touched a hand to Logan’s chest and dug his fingers in. “Agreed. Do I get to add to this rule book?”

  “Depends if I like the rule or not. Plus, you added one yesterday. I think that’s enough out of you. Best to leave it to the professionals.”

  “What?” Tate scoffed and pulled away. “That’s not fair.”

  T
hey both started walking again, and Logan said, “Don’t care.”

  “Is that how you win in court? Someone presents evidence you don’t like and you shrug and say, ‘I don’t care, Your Honor.’”

  Tate saw Logan shake his head. Then he turned to look at him.

  “No. I win because I’m the best.”

  “And modest too,” Tate added tongue-in-cheek.

  “No time for modesty when you’re out to win.”

  “Ahh, and you’re always out to win.”

  “Well, who wants to lose?”

  Tate chuckled as they made a turn along the path, and he kicked the leaves on the ground. “Well you lost pretty spectacularly at game night.”

  “Did I say you were sweet earlier? I think I was in a sex coma. You are not sweet.”

  “No?” Tate asked.

  Logan let go of his hand and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him close. “No. You’re trouble.”

  Tate shoved away from him and laughed. “I’m trouble? Yeah, right.”

  Logan put his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yep. Trouble from the second I saw you.”

  “The second you saw me, you were trying to fuck me.”

  “That’s true,” Logan agreed.

  “So that would mean you were—”

  “Focused?”

  “No.”

  “Determined?”

  Tate rolled his eyes. “Can I—”

  “Smart. That makes me the smartest fucker around.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  Logan grabbed his hand and winked. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

  Tate found the smile Logan was aiming his way so damn contagious that he left their conversation right there. There was nothing more he needed to add to make that moment sheer perfection.

  * * *

  “Sit down, would you? Damn, you’re fidgety.”

  Logan looked up at Tate from where he was seated on the blanket. They’d made their way around to the back end of the grounds to one of the spring-fed ponds.

  “Well, I quit smoking,” Tate told him, shaking his hands out by his sides.

  Logan said nothing for a moment, but he discovered that this revelation made him really fucking happy.