Tease (Temptation Series Book 4)
Page 17
“That’s impressive, son,” Will said, regaining Logan’s attention. “Really impressive. And what about you, Tate? You said you were hiring on a manager, right?”
“That’s right,” Tate said. “And I just found one.”
“God help us all,” Logan muttered, and Tate reached under the table to pat his thigh.
“What’s wrong with who you hired?” Will asked, and Logan just shook his head and raised his glass to his mouth, letting Tate try to explain Robbie.
“Nothing,” Tate said. “It’s just someone we knew when we first started dating, that’s all.” When Will stared at the two of them, waiting for more of an explanation, Tate said, “He’s got a ridiculous crush on Logan, always has. When I told him he sometimes worked at the bar, he practically offered a blood sample to be hired.”
Logan coughed and almost choked on his drink before he lowered his glass and glared at Tate.
“What? It’s true,” Tate said with a shit-eating grin, and Logan looked over at Tate’s father, wondering if he’d be concerned at all by what he’d just heard.
“I almost feel sorry for the guy,” Will said, aiming a knowing smile at his son. “Logan barely notices anyone else is in the room when you’re around. Does this guy know that?”
That answers that, Logan thought as he aimed daggers at Tate, who just continued to grin. “Oh, he knows.”
“Anyway,” Logan said, desperately wanting to change the topic. “That’s enough about us. What’s new with you, Will? What ever happened to that Anne lady? You still seeing her?”
“Nah,” Will said, brushing his hand through the air. “Found out we didn’t really have much in common.”
“Sorry to hear that, Dad,” Tate said.
“Don’t be,” Will said with a pearly-white grin that matched his son’s. “I have another date set up this week.”
Logan sat forward at this new piece of information, his drink forgotten. “Really? Do tell us more. What’s her name?” When Will laughed but didn’t say anything, Logan added, “Or his. I’m not one to judge.”
Tate snorted. “As if he doesn’t already know that.”
“I do,” Will said. “But I think it’s safe to say that this Morrison male isn’t going to switch teams this late in the game.”
Logan’s mouth fell open, and he whipped his head around to look at Tate, and saw him looking as gobsmacked as he was. Then Logan busted up laughing, because hot damn, who would’ve ever thought Tate’s father would be joking with them about that…ever.
When Logan finally got himself under control, he said, “Okay. So, what’s her name?”
“Jackie,” Will said, and then took a sip of his bourbon. “I met her at church.”
Ahh, Logan thought. Church. Making people come together. Possibly in more ways than one.
“What’s she do, Dad?”
“She owns the local nursery. In Bloom.”
“That’s perfect,” Tate said. “You’ve always loved your garden. Something in common.”
“Exactly. I’ve been in there a few times now. She’s really very lovely. I think you’d both like her.”
“So when’s the big day?” Logan asked.
“Friday. We’re going out to dinner.”
Logan slapped the table and sat back. “Well, I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”
“Me neither,” Tate said, slinging his arm back around Logan’s shoulders. “That’s exciting.”
“First dates always are,” Logan said, and Tate laughed.
“How would you know? You never had a first date until me.”
Logan looked at him and grinned. “And it was very exciting. Wasn’t it?”
As Tate slowly smiled, Logan wondered which part of their first date he was recalling. Dinner and the blow job shot? Or after, when Tate had fucked him for the first time? He sure as hell knew which part he was thinking of.
“It was very exciting,” Tate finally said.
“Exactly,” Logan said, and turned back to face Will. “Well, we should probably think about leaving soon if we’re going to get home before the Cubs are done and the city becomes a madhouse.”
“True,” Tate said, getting to his feet.
Will followed suit, and Logan finished his drink and stood also. As they headed inside and down the hallway, Logan excused himself to use the bathroom, and when he came back, he found Will standing in the kitchen and Tate nowhere in sight.
“Thanks again for lunch and the poor Widow Jane,” Logan said, shaking Will’s hand.
“No problem. You know you’re welcome anytime. Tate just headed upstairs, said he had to grab something, but I think he might’ve gotten lost.”
Logan looked over to the staircase. “Guess I should go hunt him down, then.”
“Yeah, you should. But, uhh, before you do…”
Uh oh, Logan thought, as Tate’s father ran a hand through his hair in a gesture just like his son. With Tate, that usually meant he was nervous or concerned. But right then, Logan had no idea which was the case with Will.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Without Tate around? Yeah, okay, this did not sound good. Sure, Logan and Will had a great relationship these days and had ever since that afternoon Tate had brought him home after their trip to New York. But that didn’t mean the guy might not have a problem with something he had said or done.
“Sure,” Logan said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “Shoot.”
“I’ll make it quick. It’s just…it’s been a long time since Tate’s come to church, and I know that had a lot to do with his mother attending the old one. But even when I switched, he never really showed much interest. I’m not going to lie—it was a bit of a shock when he said yes today.”
No shit, Logan thought. Was a hell of a shock to me too. But he wasn’t about to say that, so he stood silently and waited for Will to continue.
“Earlier when we were cleaning up, he finally told me about running into his sister and, well, it started to make sense.”
Oh no. No. No. Please don’t ask me what I think you’re about to ask me. But he knew he was out of luck when Will eyed him in that direct way Tate did.
“He says he doesn’t want to see her. But Logan, I don’t think that’s true.”
“I…uhh,” Logan started, and then shook his head. “I don’t know, Will. It’s not really my—”
“Business? Place?” Will said. “Of course it is. Look, just talk to him, please. He listens to you, and I think he’d really regret it if he didn’t at least meet with her.”
“I don’t know that he’s ready for that. He’s pretty angry right now. He’s hurt.”
“And rightfully so. I’m not saying he should forgive her. But I know my boy, and Tate doesn’t volunteer to go to church. He was looking for answers today. Looking for peace of mind. And I know it’s because of Jill.”
Logan sighed, knowing those words to be true. He’d thought the same thing even before Tate had confirmed it, which was the only reason he’d said yes to attending in the first place. But that still didn’t mean he was going to urge Tate to do something he didn’t want to do. The choice was his, and his alone, in the end. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. But I’m not making any promises.”
“Of course,” Will said, as he clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Just talk, that’s all I ask. He loves you. He’ll open up to you.”
Logan wasn’t so sure he had anything good to say when it came to Jill. But his father was right about one thing: Tate had come in search of answers today, and maybe, if they talked, they could find some.
Chapter Eighteen
TATE STOOD IN the doorway of his sister’s bedroom and stared at the room. He hadn’t gone up there with the intention of taking a walk down memory lane, but after the last couple of days he’d had, that was what he found himself doing.
He pushed the door to her room all the way open and scanned the interior. Not much had changed. Hers was the room situated in the middle of t
he second-floor landing, and Tate always remembered her complaining it was the smallest. His parents had the master at one end of the floor, and his was all the way at the other end.
As he stepped inside, he noted her walls were still plastered with the movie stars and boyband members she’d had crushes on. She had her desk pushed up against the window that overlooked the backyard, and her bed was flush against the opposite wall.
He walked to the computer that was still set up there, and spotted a photo on her desk beside a pink and purple notepad. The frame was a bulky silver one with the word family across the top, and inside it was a photo of the four of them, as they had once been.
He picked it up to take a closer look and recognized it as having been taken at Jill’s high school graduation. Diana had taken that photo. He remembered the way she had followed them around that day, flirting shamelessly with him. He was young there, too—shit…twenty, maybe? Tate had his arm slung around his baby sister as they stood between their parents and all smiled for the camera.
God, that seemed like forever ago. He’d purposely avoided coming into her room whenever he visited his father, and now he knew why. This was too much. It was too fucking sad to see. And it made him furious that somehow this happy family unit had become fractured and destroyed because he’d fallen in love with someone that half of them didn’t approve of. Someone wonderful they’d deprived themselves of knowing.
Tate put the photo back on the desk and shook his head. What am I doing? But, deep down, he knew. After seeing Jill this weekend, he’d had this sudden need to remind himself of the girl he’d once known. The one who was kind. The one who was always there to help a friend or stand up for one. The girl he used to adore.
And while this room offered a glimpse of who she had once been, the only way he’d be able to know if she still existed somewhere inside the hateful woman he’d once seen would be to meet with her. To call her.
He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and turned, about to head down to his room where he’d originally been going to grab a couple of things he thought Thomas might like. That was when he saw Logan lounging against the doorjamb with his arms and legs crossed, watching him.
He had a thoughtful look on his face, and Tate wondered just how long he’d been standing there.
“Hello,” Logan said, a curious expression now crossing that striking face of his.
Tate slipped his hands into his jeans as he wandered over. “Hi.”
“What are you doing up here?”
“Was just coming to get a few G.I. Joes for Thomas. I thought I’d take them over next Sunday.”
Logan’s gaze drifted past his shoulder to Jill’s room, and then a frown appeared on his brow. “Your sister was into G.I. Joe?”
Tate rolled his eyes. “Funny.”
“That’s me, hilarious,” Logan said, and shoved off the door to brush by Tate and walk over to the desk in Jill’s room. Tate turned to see him pick up the photo he’d just been looking at, and when Logan glanced over at him, he grinned. “How old are you here?”
“Twenty.”
“Hmm,” Logan said, and when he looked back at the photo he ran a finger over it, and Tate felt his cock twitch. “Wearing your favored ripped jeans, I see.”
“I don’t think I owned any back then that weren’t ripped.”
“Well, that hasn’t changed.”
“True,” Tate said, and shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”
Logan fingered the edge of the frame as he watched him for a few seconds, and Tate made sure to hold his gaze. One thing about Logan that was always such a surprise was his ability to wait people out. It was surprising because Logan was notoriously impatient when it came to getting what he wanted. But when it involved finding out pertinent facts, when he was determined to know what someone was hiding, he was a master at getting to the bottom of things. It was what made him so good at his job. That persistence. Whether it be in your face or subtle and silent. He always ended up with the answers he was looking for, and right now, Tate knew Logan was looking for signs that he was about to freak out or have a breakdown of some sort.
When neither occurred, though, Logan finally said, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“My jeans?” Tate said, trying the avoidance route and failing.
“Your sister.”
Tate shook his head. That was the one thing he didn’t want to talk about right now. In fact, he just wanted to forget about it for the moment. He’d already made a decision, and he’d deal with it tomorrow. “No. I already made my mind up about her.”
“You did, huh?”
“Yeah, just a few seconds ago, actually. But I don’t want to talk about it right now. I want to enjoy my afternoon with you.”
“Fair enough. But we will talk.” Logan narrowed his eyes, waiting for a response, and when Tate nodded, he let it go and glanced back at the photo in his hands. “You look really fucking hot in this photo.”
The comment was so unexpected that it made Tate laugh as Logan continued to study the image. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I definitely think so. Where were you again when I was in college?” Logan said.
“In high school.”
“Mhmm, that’s right.” Logan absently placed the photo down and strolled back over to Tate. “I think I would’ve liked to have tempted you back then.”
Tate grinned, his earlier worries leaving him for now as Logan’s magnetic presence surrounded him.
God, he hasn’t done anything other than look at me and I want to touch him. That’s some kind of power right there.
“You tempted me just fine when we met,” Tate said, as he took Logan’s hand, leading him out into the hall and down to his room. As he shoved open his bedroom door and they walked inside, he glanced back to see Logan standing with his hands in those pressed navy slacks of his, and said, “You’re tempting me right now.”
Logan chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t blame me for whatever inappropriate thought is running through your mind, Mr. Morrison. I’m slightly inebriated, and will not do anything in your father’s house. I think we’ve had this conversation before.”
Tate tapped his index finger to his lips, and when Logan’s eyes immediately fell to them, he grinned. “Then you shouldn’t have looked at me like you did a minute ago.”
“And how did I look at you?” Logan asked, his mouth curving into an arrogant smirk, and shit, he was all sex in that moment. There was no way Tate wasn’t going to go and taste him. Not in this fucking lifetime.
He walked back to where Logan was and reached around him to shove the door shut, and when it clicked into place, Logan cocked his head, as if to say, Now what?
Tate crowded in on him until Logan’s back was up against the door, and then he placed one hand on it and snaked the other down to massage it over the zipper of Logan’s pants. As Logan’s breath caught, Tate placed his lips at his temple and said, “You looked at me like you want me to unzip your pants and take you to church.”
A raspy laugh left Logan as he gripped the front of Tate’s shirt. “If you’re not referring to my kind of church right now, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“If you mean by the end of the next five minutes you’re going to be trying not to shout, ‘Oh my God,’ then my ass is safe.”
“For now,” Logan said, his eyes promising all kinds of decadent things to come. “You’re really going to do this? Here. And you think I’m a bad influence.”
Tate nipped at Logan’s ear and hummed in the back of his throat. “No. I think you’re the best fucking thing that ever happened to me. And right now, I want to show you.”
“Your timing is— Oh shit.” Logan’s words got caught on a groan when Tate squeezed his fingers around him. “Damn, Tate.”
“Perfect? I think I’m right in time to take care of this.” Tate unbuckled Logan’s belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped him.
“Tate,” Logan said, “remember your father’s downstairs.”<
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Tate dipped his hand into Logan’s black boxers, and when he found the stiff erection waiting for him, he licked his top lip and said, “I don’t care.”
Logan’s head fell back against the door with a thump, and he curled his hands into the material he was holding as his hips bucked forward so he could fuck the fist now surrounding him.
“Hmm,” Tate said. “That’s it. I love how insatiable you are. You can’t help yourself from taking what you want, even when you know you shouldn’t. Like when you take me. I love how you hold me down and go fucking wild. Greedy to the very end.”
“Jesus,” Logan said on a ragged breath, as Tate lowered his head and nuzzled into his neck.
One thing that the years had definitely enhanced between the two of them was the intensity of their physical relationship. When they’d first gotten together it was all about learning one another, and for Tate especially, learning not only what he liked but what Logan liked.
But now…now the two of them were in perfect sync. And while they enjoyed the quiet, gentle moments in bed tangled between their sheets, when it came to their sex—for the most part—they liked it dirty, rough, and raw, and that was exactly what Tate was about to give the man he had pinned to his childhood bedroom door.
“Give me your mouth, Logan.”
In an instant, Logan’s hands were in Tate’s hair, holding him in place while he connected their lips. Tate closed his eyes and sucked on Logan’s tongue as he stroked the throbbing cock he held in his hand. Relaxing the arm he had braced against the door, Tate angled his body so he could grind his aching shaft against Logan, and when a muffled grunt came, Tate did it again.
Logan tore his mouth free, and with their faces this close, their noses brushed and their breath mingled.
“Ahh… So good, Tate,” Logan said as he jacked his hips forward, his dick sliding through Tate’s fist.
“You’re so sexy,” Tate whispered. “The way you move. The way you sound. The way you say my name like it’s a prayer.”
Logan growled, his arousal now at a fever pitch, judging by the flushed cheeks and tightly bunched jaw, and then Tate bit down on his lower lip and said, “Say it again like that as you come down my throat.”