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“So…I like to try a little bit of everything and everyone.” The words sank into Tate’s head, settling in, and then they started to make a whole lot more sense—until Logan, as usual, threw another can of gasoline on the fire. “I’d like to try you.”
“You forget my name?” “No.” “Then, don’t call me sir. It turns me on,”
“Hang. Up.” Very slowly, Logan did as asked. He slid the phone down his chest and placed it in his pocket. “But you said—” “I know what I said,” Tate told him in a clipped tone. “Then what’s the problem?” Tate was trying to think of one, but all he managed was, “I don’t fucking share,” as he reached out to Logan. This time, there was no mistaking what he wanted, as Tate gave in to his curiosity and took Logan’s mouth with his own.
Logan wanted to know every little thing Tate was thinking, but he also knew he desperately needed a shower. So, he walked forward to Tate, reached out, and took the cigarette from him. Bringing it to his own lips, he took a drag, and as he gave it back, he blew the smoke out just past Tate’s face. “Sorry, I just really wanted to suck on what you were sucking.
Logan: Are you laughing or scowling? Both. Logan: Well fuck, now I want to kiss you.
“I want the man who sat down across from me and changed the way I look at the world. And if that’s wrong, then I’m confused because when I’m near you, it feels so damn right.”
“I’ve never wanted something more. But with you, I can’t seem to stop myself. I want to look at you and know that you’re mine, and that terrifies me.” Tate’s fingers wrapped around his own as he brought their arms in close to his sides, and then Tate asked again, “Why?” Logan found Tate’s eyes and finally acknowledged, “Because I think I could love someone like you.”
