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Take (Temptation Series)(4)

By:Ella Frank



Tate was feeling pretty fucking good as he climbed into Logan's bed and  looked at the doorway. It was always a thrill to get the better of  Logan. It didn't happen often, but when finally rendering the man  speechless, it always felt like an accomplishment of sorts.

That was, until he remembered his day.

He'd ignored several phone calls from his family and put off the inevitable with the excuse he was giving himself a day.

A day to work out how to explain what exactly his sister had seen.

Tate wasn't sure what he wanted to say, but he knew he had to do it, and  soon. He couldn't hide forever, even if he'd done a hell of a job  pushing it aside.

As that unwelcome thought lingered in his mind, Logan stepped into the  room and made his way around to his usual side of the bed. Stopping  beside the mattress, he hooked his thumbs into his pants and regarded  him.

"You look so damn good in my bed."

Those few words made Tate realize, How can I ever deny what I'm feeling?

"Do I?"

He'd never been as strongly attracted to anyone as he was to the man  currently eyeing him. But he had a lot on his mind, and shelving it  wasn't going to do much good. It was better to just face it … Well, maybe  in a minute.

Logan pushed his pants from his hips and went to remove his glasses.  Before he got them off though, Tate rolled to his side and said,  "Don't."

Logan left them in place and pulled back the covers to get under, lying  on his side so they were facing one another, his head propped up on his  hand.

"I like them. You appear so serious when you wear them."

"As opposed to not serious when they're off?"

Tate rolled to his back and studied the ceiling. "No. When they're off, you look … "

Logan lowered his head and nuzzled in against his ear. "Yes?"

Turning his head on the pillow, Tate caught the blue eyes pinning him  with an intense stare. "Sexy. Like you could get into trouble in  seconds. Stop," he sighed as Logan's lips touched his neck. "I can't  think when you're doing that."

"So glasses on makes me less sexy and easier to talk to? Good to know. I'm thinking I need to buy some contacts."

"No," Tate groaned. Nothing about having Logan naked and pressed up against him made it easier to talk. It just made him horny.

"Then what?"

"They make it less likely that you will … I don't know … do anything."

The deep laugh beside him had Tate reaching over to shove Logan's shoulder.

"I'm being serious."

"Yes, I can see that," Logan replied when he stopped laughing. "Your mood has done a complete one-eighty."

Tate remained silent as he looked at nothing in particular.

Logan had left the side lamp on, and the room was quiet as they lay  there, each of them understanding exactly what was on Tate's mind.

"Did you call your mom today?"

The way Logan asked, Tate knew he was just as nervous to hear the answer as he was to give it.

Sure, when he'd arrived, playing around had been the first thing on his  mind. Maybe they could say, "To hell with their issues," and just fuck  their brains out, but really, what it came down to was Tate wanted to  get serious, and he wanted Logan to want it too. He knew, however, that  wanting it and getting it were not going to be as easy as that, and he  wondered how the fuck his life had gotten so complicated.


Shaking his head, he admitted, "No. I didn't call her."

Logan said nothing. He just reached out to brush his hair from his forehead.

"She called me though. Several times."

The silence in the room was palpable as they both lay there staring at  each other. He couldn't think of anything to say, but then Logan opened  his mouth and suggested, "If it's easier to deny it-"

"Shut up." Tate knew that was not the answer.

"I'm just saying-"

"Well, stop. I won't lie to them. I just need some fucking time to work  out what to say." Tate closed his eyes and tried to think.

In two fucking weeks, his entire life had been turned on its ass. How in  the hell … But when warm lips pressed against his forehead and he was  pulled closer so he was lying in the crook of Logan's arm, he realized  he didn't give a shit.

"Take as long as you need."

Logan was constantly surprising him as his whispered words of support  found him in the room. Tate placed a tentative hand on Logan's chest and  felt the steady beat of his heart as he said softly, "It's William."  Logan shifted away slightly, and Tate tilted his head so he was looking  up at him. "William Tate Morrison."         



Without a word, Logan reached up and removed his glasses. He stretched  out, put them on the side table, and switched the lamp off. When he came  back and settled into the bed, Tate felt a hand stroke his hair again, a  new, familiar habit of Logan's.

"That's a very proper name, Mr. Morrison. I like it."

Tate grinned against Logan's chest. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I do," Logan murmured, and just when Tate thought he'd be rolled  over and worked over, Logan shocked him again. "Now get some rest. It's  late."

As he drifted off to sleep, Tate felt for the very first time that he  was exactly where he was supposed to be, and he didn't care what anyone  else thought.

The following morning, as Logan stood in the kitchen making his coffee, he kept thinking over the night before.

William. He never would've guessed. Such a dignified name, so …



He turned to watch Tate stroll out of the bedroom with his jeans pulled on but left unbuttoned.

"Hmm?" was all he managed as he straightened his blue tie and Tate came to a stop beside him.

"You're up early, even for you. It's not light out yet."

Logan pivoted back to the coffee maker and pushed the button on the stainless-steel appliance a little harder than was required.

"Couldn't sleep," he admitted, a little surprised at himself. He'd been tired as hell last night.

"A lot on your mind?"

Logan glanced at Tate. "Yes, William. I have a lot on my mind right now."

Tate rolled his eyes and rested against the counter. "The only person who gets away with calling me William is my mom."

Logan slipped his fingers into the loose denim at Tate's waist and pulled him close. "And now me."

Tate placed a hand on the counter he was leaning against. "I don't think so."

Logan forgot all about the coffee as he stepped in front of Tate, making  him turn so his ass was pressed back against the counter. He hooked his  fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, and with their eyes  connected, Logan pushed forward and ground his hips hard against him.

"I do, William," Logan grinned. "It's like I'm with someone totally new. Someone … refined."

As he pushed his hand into Tate's jeans and curled his fingers around  the hard-on he found, Tate's lips opened and his head rested back  against the kitchen cabinet. Unable to help himself, Logan leaned  forward and licked a path up Tate's jaw to his ear.

"Ahh fuck, Logan."

Logan's cock throbbed at the invitation as he bit the lobe and removed his hand.

"Maybe tonight. But for now, you may want to brace yourself."

He kissed his way back down Tate's neck to his shoulder and then lower  to bite his nipple. Tate placed one of his hands on the counter behind  himself as Logan gripped both sides of his jeans and tugged them down  his legs, lowering to his knees on the kitchen floor.

He circled the base of Tate's shaft with his fingers and flicked his  tongue over the swollen head in front of him. The throaty sound that  left Tate had Logan's mouth stretching into a wicked grin as he peered  up to see him braced, ready for the sensual onslaught.

As if Tate could feel him watching, he looked down and asked, "Why'd you stop?"

Logan kissed Tate's hipbone and then scraped his teeth along the taut  skin. "I wanted to make sure I had your attention, William."

One of Tate's hands came forward and then yanked his head back so he was forced to look up.

"I told you not to call me that."

Unrepentant to the end, Logan knew his face was smug. "And I've told you there's only one way to shut me up."

"So you have."

Tate's other hand cradled his face and directed him forward to his stiff rod.

Logan didn't hesitate. He nuzzled in and sucked the skin around the root  of the hard-on that was brushing the side of his cheek. He tormented  Tate with a flick of his tongue and a suck of his lips, causing Tate's  hips to shove forward, and when he finally moved to take the plump head  into his mouth, a loud curse ripped from Tate's throat. Logan closed his  eyes and felt the fingers in his hair flex as he finally slid his lips  down Tate's steely length.

Fuck yes. Use me, Logan thought, and he couldn't help the hum of approval he gave as Tate took over the pace.

He smoothed his hands up the back of firm thighs and clenched his ass as  Tate continued to thrust forward to the back of his throat. Logan dug  his fingers into cheeks that were tightly muscled and reveled in the way  Tate now let go with him one hundred percent.