Tease (Temptation Series Book 4)

by Ella Frank

  LOGAN WAS LUCKY he could still form a coherent sentence after that stamp of ownership Tate had just laid on him when he’d first arrived. But he figured sitting his ass on a barstool and messing with Robbie for a bit was probably a good plan to get his brain back in working order.

  “Payback?” Robbie said, as he looked at Tate, who was now walking over to them.

  “Yes,” Logan said, pulling the straw from between his lips, and when Robbie’s eyes dropped to the move, Logan chuckled. “Payback. For all the shit you used to give Tate when we first met.”

  “I…I didn’t give him that much shit.”

  Logan arched a brow. “Really? I must be mistaking the invite to a threesome, then.”

  “On more than one occasion,” Tate added with a smirk.

  When Robbie’s mouth fell open, he looked as though he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. But then the sides of his lips slowly curved and the flirt Logan remembered snuck through. “Well, could you blame me? I was just being friendly.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Tate said. “If my memory serves me correctly, you were willing to be very friendly.”

  Robbie looked between the two of them and gave an innocent shrug. “Have you seen you two? I’m still willing and friendly.”

  “Why am I not surprised? But forget it,” Tate said, and rolled his eyes.

  Logan continued to watch the two of them and grinned. “Aww, this is so nice. The two of you coming together for the greater good.”

  Robbie snorted, and when Tate looked at him, he shrugged. “Sorry. Whenever he talks, my brain automatically goes, Well, there. Does he even realize the way he looks? Or the way people take his words? It’s all—”

  “Sex? Trust me,” Tate said, looking in Logan’s direction. “He’s aware of everything that comes in and out of his mouth.”

  “You would know,” Logan said, trailing his eyes down Tate’s vest to settle on the zipper of his pants.

  “Yes, I would,” Tate said, catching Logan’s attention with the arrogance in his voice. “That’s what makes him the perfect person for you to work around tonight.” Tate glanced over to Amelia, who was down the other end of the bar laughing with a couple who’d just sat down. “He’s going to be your guinea pig.”

  “Wait up,” Logan said with a frown. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  “He needs to learn a few of the staples. Even you know those,” Tate said. “He also needs to learn how to concentrate on more than one person, and you are the biggest distraction I can think of to place in the path of anyone.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow at Tate’s smug face, and then he looked at Robbie, who appeared stuck somewhere between nervous and excited. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one,” Tate said as a customer came up to the bar. “I’ll be back, you two. Try to behave.”

  As Tate moved down to the man and greeted him, Logan looked across to Robbie and gestured with his straw. “The uniform looks good.”

  Robbie looked down at the black vest, red shirt, and black pants. “Yeah, I like it. Tate said I could get away with the red tonight, but I need to get a burgundy shirt by next week.”

  “Such a hardass, that boss of yours.”

  When Robbie’s eyes landed on his, Logan raised his eyebrows, acting the innocent. But Robbie was right: most of his thoughts were less than innocent, and, well, Tate really did have a hard—

  “He seems nice enough,” Robbie said, interrupting Logan’s train of thought.

  “Tate?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t so sure he liked me. But he’s been really cool.”

  Logan let his eyes travel up to Robbie’s hair and noticed for the first time he’d cut the sides shorter, so the longer strands on top now formed a perfectly styled faux-hawk. It was still the natural color he seemed to now favor, but with the new cut, there were definite hints that Robbie might be thinking of re-embracing that side of himself.

  “Tate’s a good guy. The best I’ve ever met. He’s fair and honest, and if you ever fuck him over, you’ll have me to answer to.”

  Robbie arched an eyebrow and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Message received. Down, boy.”

  “Just making sure shit is crystal clear. That man over there has one of the biggest hearts I know. So if you take this job, you better be ready to give him one hundred percent.”

  “Is this how you two always interview people?” Robbie asked, bracing his hands on the bar.

  “How’s that?”

  “By double-teaming them?”

  Logan scoffed. “You wish.”

  Robbie sighed. “I mean…he’s the welcoming committee who makes you want to work here. Then you come in and lay down the law.”

  Logan’s lips curled slowly, and Robbie visibly swallowed. “What can I say? We each have our strengths.”

  Robbie nodded and then blinked a couple of times, as though trying to remember his name. “Uhh…okay, so, if you’re going to bust my balls all night, we might as well start, right?”

  Logan narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Sure. How about we begin with my staple, since it’s important to please the management.”

  “And what might that be?” Robbie asked.

  Logan was just about to answer when a tumbler slid in front of him with a slice of lime in it. “A gin and tonic is his drink of choice,” Tate said with a wink. “Amelia said she’d handle things for a bit, so how about we run through a few drinks and get Logan good and…relaxed?”

  Relaxed my ass, Logan thought, when Tate aimed a heated look in his direction.

  That look didn’t make his body feel relaxed. Fuck no. Those smoldering eyes and that crooked I know you want me smile had Logan about two seconds away from reaching between his legs to palm the erection now throbbing there. Add in alcohol, and God only knew how this would end up, because it seemed that Tate was hellbent on playing with him tonight in front of Robbie.

  Fine by me. Game on, Logan thought, and then raised his glass to take a sip.

  “Come on, then, do your worst, boys—relax me.”

  TWO HOURS LATER, the bar was full of the usual after-workers along with the hump day crowd. Tate had Amelia and one of his other bartenders working the counter while he, Robbie, and Logan occupied the far corner of the bar.

  Throughout the night, he’d had Robbie taking orders and making the basics for customers while he’d been beside him filling the orders from the customized menu. During the in-between moments, he’d had Robbie mixing some of their most requested drinks and then passing them off to Logan for a taste test, because nothing was more fun, or distracting, than a tanked Logan.

  So far, Logan had finished his gin and tonic, downed a Throat Tickler, complained the entire way through a Cherry Banger and just now licked up the remnants of one of his favorite shots—The Ivy League.

  When he finished and slammed the shot glass down on the counter, he slid it over to Tate and wiped his thumb over his lower lip.

  “How was that?” Robbie asked, a frown marring his forehead. “I have the Tongue Twister up next for you.”

  Tate had to give Robbie credit: he was a quick study and was meticulous in the measurements he poured and mixed, which resulted in a really great-tasting drink. Thank God, considering he’d already hired him.

  “It was strong, but good,” Logan answered, and the lazy way his eyes shifted between them told Tate he was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. “I think I might need a bit of a time-out, though.”

  Tate chuckled. “Feeling relaxed, are we?”

  “Oh, I’m feeling something, all right,” Logan said as he focused on Tate, and when he bit down on his full bottom lip, Tate had to fight every instinct he had not to grab him and head upstairs for a quick fuck. Shit, he doubted they would even make it up the stairs.

  “Damn, okay,” Robbie muttered from beside him, and when Tate looked over, Robbie’s eyes were fixated on Logan. “How do you ever say no to him?”

 
“He doesn’t,” Logan said, arrogant as ever.

  But hell if he’s not wrong, Tate thought. He couldn’t actually remember a time he’d ever said no to Logan. And when he was like this? Forget it. “You having trouble keeping up there, counselor?”

  Logan ran his eyes all over him, and Tate shook his head. Jesus, he was hot. Adding a couple of drinks to the mix didn’t take away from that one little bit. It just guaranteed Logan’s sex appeal was even stronger. Something the dumbfounded Robbie seemed to be having trouble dealing with.

  “Definitely not having trouble keeping it up,” Logan said, and pushed forward on his stool to lean over and crook a finger at Tate. Tate laughed and moved forward so Logan’s lips could brush over his cheek, and then he said, “Want to come around here and see for yourself?” He took Logan’s chin between his fingers and kissed him quickly before moving away and pointing at him. “Sit and behave. We’re training a new employee.”

  Logan grinned shamelessly, and then his dark eyes found Robbie. “Isn’t sexual harassment in the training manual? Come around here, and I’ll show him what he’s not allowed to do to you.”

  Robbie looked as though he liked the idea of that, but Tate knew if he got close to Logan without the barrier of the bar, there’d be no telling what would happen. “I don’t think so. But I think that’s enough alcohol for you.”

  “Perhaps,” Logan said, a serious expression crossing his face. “I have to go to work with Priestley tomorrow, and I don’t want him riding my ass.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” Tate said with a laugh, and that was when he realized Robbie had stiffened beside him and a fierce scowl had crossed his face.

  He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the change, either, because Logan started chuckling and said, “I bet Robbie wouldn’t mind that, though.”

  “Mind what?” Robbie said, and the demand was pitched a little higher than his usual tone.

  “Priestley, riding your ass,” Logan said, subtle as a sledgehammer.

  Robbie’s mouth fell open and his eyes became so round they came close to encompassing his entire face. “You’re joking, right?” When Logan winked at Tate, Robbie shook his head adamantly. “You’ve had way too much to drink if you think I would ever let that…that arrogant asshole anywhere near me.”

  “Methinks thou protests too much,” Logan said, twirling one of the black straws between his thumb and forefinger.

  “And I think you’ve lost your fucking mind,” Robbie said.

  Tate crossed his arms as Logan tsked at Robbie and pointed the straw at him. “Is that any way to talk to one of your new bosses?”

  “You just said I wanted one of your coworkers to ride my ass. Is that any way for you to talk to your new employee?”

  “Now that you mention it, you’re probably right. But…” Logan said, his eyes alight with mischief. Fucking troublemaker. “What do you think, Tate? He’s a little bit touchy about this subject, isn’t he?”

  At the reminder of Robbie’s words to him all those years ago, Tate nodded and tapped a finger to his chin. “He does seem a little bit uptight about this.”

  Robbie narrowed his eyes on them both and fumed. “You two suck.”

  “Hmm, and often, too,” Logan said. “But the real question here is, do you think Priestley does? I bet he’s an arrogant fucker in the bedroom. He sure didn’t take any of your shit today. What do you think, Robbie?”

  Robbie sputtered a couple of times and looked at Tate as though he might save him. But Tate was too busy trying not to laugh his ass off. Ahh, payback can be such a fun little bitch.

  “I don’t care what he is in the bedroom,” Robbie finally said.

  “Sure you don’t,” Logan said, and started to laugh as Tate finally lost it.

  Poor Robbie. His face was bright red, either from embarrassment or arousal.

  “I don’t,” Robbie said.

  Logan nodded as he bit down on the straw and flashed an unrepentant grin. “Then why are you strangling that poor bar towel?”

  Robbie’s hands stilled immediately, then he threw the towel on the bar top and turned on Tate. “I’m due a break, aren’t I?”

  Tate bit the inside of his cheek, trying to get himself under control, and nodded.

  “Then I’d like to take it.”

  “To call Priestley?” Logan asked. “I have his number if you want it.”

  Robbie’s head snapped around, and the fuck you look he gave Logan was full-on old barista Robbie. It was dripping with haughty indignation, and the tilt to his chin told Tate that no matter how much Robbie was protesting, there was definitely something about this Priestley guy that had gotten under his skin.

  Robbie stepped around Tate and marched off down the bar to the door that led out the back, and Logan started to laugh so hard he ended up wiping tears from his eyes.

  “You enjoyed that way too much,” Tate said, as he bent over to rest his arms on the counter so he was eye level with Logan.

  “Maybe a little. But come on, he’s had that coming for a long time. Plus, you saw his reaction.”

  “I did.”

  “And,” Logan asked, as he reached out to link their fingers together. “What did you think?”

  Well, if anyone understood the denial of one’s sexual attraction to another person, it was Tate. He’d been a master of doing that when he first met Logan, and right now, Robbie was reacting the same way he had, even though the interest was there in his flushed cheeks and curious eyes.

  “I think you’re spot-on,” Tate said. “He protested a little too hard and a little too loud.”

  “Hmm, reminds me of someone else I used to know. By the way,” Logan said, and then lowered his voice, “that sounded dirty.”

  “I could recite the alphabet to you right now and you’d take it as a come-on.”

  “Probably. Want to try? Start with F and we can end with U.”

  Tate pushed forward on his toes until he could kiss Logan hard. “Or you could head upstairs, shower, and get in bed and wait for me.”

  Logan’s lips curved. “I could. Couldn’t I?”

  “Mhmm. And when I come up there, I’ll make you protest hard and loud.”

  Logan chuckled. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. But if you don’t get the hell out of my bar in the next five minutes, I’m not going to be held responsible for fucking you in the stairwell.”

  When Logan’s eyes lit, Tate shook his head and straightened, and then he pointed to the door. “Go. Your presence here has been much appreciated, but hell if you aren’t also my biggest distraction.”

  Logan winked and bit down on the straw a final time as he sauntered out of the bar, leaving Tate hard as hell and, as always, so damn glad that man was his.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  IT WAS THE end of the week, and a beautiful Friday morning, as Tate floored his Mustang up I-90 and the two of them relaxed into the drive that would take them to their cabin for the weekend.

  The sun was out, the sky was clear, and Logan couldn’t think of another place in the world he’d rather be than sitting beside Tate with his window rolled down and the Killers blasting from the stereo.

  They’d stopped for a quick bite and coffee, but neither wanted to linger before hitting the road, both eager to get to their home away from the city.

  Logan looked across to see Tate with one of his arms resting on the open window and the other hand casually holding the steering wheel. In his ripped jeans, he looked so cool and relaxed that Logan wanted to tell him to pull over so he could shove him in the back seat and unzip those jeans. As the thought entered his mind, Logan placed his hand on Tate’s thigh, and when he automatically put his over the top and shifted it up his leg to rest between his thighs, Logan thought, Fuck it.

  He angled his body so he could lean over and kiss Tate’s cheek, and then he inhaled, and the scent of their shampoo and soap wafted around, making Logan want to nuzzle his nose behind Tate’s ear. “You smell fucking amazing.” />
  Tate added pressure to the top of Logan’s hand as he spread his legs a little wider. “Considering we showered together, I’d say I smell exactly the same as you.”

  “Mhmm, I remember,” Logan said. “But you still smell amazing. I think it’s just you. Your skin. The way the soap reacts to it.”

  “Maybe it’s pheromones. Maybe my body’s reacting to you being so close.”

  “I’m not sure there is such a thing. But,” Logan said, and squeezed his hand around the cock he could feel swelling behind the denim, causing Tate to groan in the back of his throat, “your body is definitely reacting to me.”

  “I think you need to go back to your side of the car,” Tate said, just as Logan nipped at his earlobe and tightened his grip. “Like…shit, Logan. Now.”

  Logan chuckled but relented. If there was one thing he was overly cautious about when it came to Tate, it was driving. Ever since his accident, any time they were in a vehicle that was moving, Logan wanted all attention on the task at hand. Even if that does mean I’m now sitting here with a serious case of blue balls.

  Deciding to distract himself, Logan reached for the volume and turned the music down. Talking was a good idea. If they talked, he wouldn’t just sit there and stare at Tate for the next forty or fifty minutes thinking of all the ways he was going to enjoy that strong body as soon as they reached their destination.

  Tate must’ve been of the same mindset, because he glanced over for a second, blew out a sigh, and then pressed the heel of his hand against his obvious arousal. “So,” he said. “You never did tell me what happened yesterday with Priestley and the prosecutor.”

  “And you want me to tell you now?”

  Tate laughed at his put-out tone. “Don’t worry. The second we’re out of the car and inside the cabin, you can do whatever you want to me. But for now, this seems like a safe enough topic.”