HE IS SO going to pay for that, Logan thought, as he righted himself in the water and caught sight of Tate’s back as he jogged off the pier toward the bank. When he reached the grass, the cocky shit wandered to the edge of the water and called out through his cupped hands, “Feeling a little cooler there, Logan?”

Logan narrowed his eyes and shot him the finger, which only made Tate laugh harder. Oh, yeah, laugh it up, Logan thought, as he imagined all the ways he was going to exact his revenge. Because while he supposed the little cool-off should’ve dampened his arousal, the victorious grin on Tate’s face just made Logan’s desire kick up a gear. That sneaky fucker was going to get what was coming to him, and Logan was going to enjoy the hell out of giving it to him.

He swam a little way in, and when he finally got to his feet and stood, he took immense satisfaction in the way Tate’s expression morphed from triumphant to turned on.

Logan knew he must have looked like a fucking disaster, but he was also aware his white shirt was now plastered to every inch of his body, and his jeans? His jeans were uncomfortable with how snug they were as he stood in the thigh-lapping water, dripping wet. Yet, even as unkempt as he felt, Tate had caught his lower lip behind his teeth in a telltale sign that he loved what he was looking at. That was when Logan knew exactly where to start with this particular revenge.

Reaching for the edge of his shirt, Logan peeled the wet fabric over his head, and then ran a hand through his slick hair. Tate took one of his hands out of his pockets and started to palm himself through his jeans.

Yeah, there you go, look at me, Logan thought, as he stood there wet, half-naked, eating Tate up with his eyes. “You know, if I were you, I’d be running. Because when I get my hands on you…”

Tate’s lips crooked up on one side. “You’ll what?”

Logan started to walk forward, the water sluicing around his legs as droplets ran in rivulets down his naked chest. “When I get my hands on you, I’m going to make you pay for that little stunt.”

As he got closer, the water now at his knees, Tate started walking backward, never once taking his eyes off Logan.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you got yourself so worked up you needed a cool-down.”

Logan’s feet finally hit the grass of the bank, and he cocked his head to the side, regarding Tate closely. “You think that cooled me down?”

Tate licked his top lip. “Didn’t it?”

Logan shook his head, threw the wet t-shirt on the ground, and said, “No. It fucking didn’t. And Tate?”

“Yeah?”

“You better start running.”

* * *

AS LOGAN’S WARNING hit his ears, Tate’s cock throbbed and his heart raced. The look in Logan’s eyes was downright predatory—had been since he’d emerged from the water like some kind of god Tate wanted to worship.

Soaked to his skin, Logan shouldn’t have looked as good as he did, but he looked sexier in wet clothes than he did the dry ones. How the hell that was humanly possible, Tate had no idea. But when Logan tossed his shirt on the grass and started in his direction, he knew he only had minutes, if that, to get to wherever the hell he wanted to be for what was about to happen next.

And what was about to happen was going to be torture.

Pure. Sexual. Torture.

The kind of torture that would have his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his cock begging to be sucked, and his ass wanting to be taken. And the man stalking him as he backed away toward the barn looked ready and willing to be the one inflicting the punishment.

“Where’s it going to be, Tate?” Logan asked, a hand going to the silver button of his jeans, and when Tate stumbled, he didn’t miss the way Logan’s eyes sparked in reaction.

He liked that he had him running. Liked the chase. Of course he does, goddamn deviant.

“Inside or out here with Mother Nature?” Logan asked, looking at the branches of the huge maple hanging over his head.

When Tate got back on the path that led to either the barn or the house, he decided it was time to take this little game up a notch, and reached over his shoulder to gather his shirt in his hand. As he tore it over his head, he noticed Logan was closer than he had been before, and he was looking at Tate as though he wanted to consume him.

Tate balled his shirt up and threw it at him, and when Logan caught it, he brought it up to smell and said, “There are those pheromones you were talking about.” Then he tossed it on the ground, and Tate knew it was on.

He turned and made a run for the barn and the doors Logan had left open, and could hear the gravel crunching under the feet of Logan, closing in behind him. He should’ve known better when it came to trying to outrun Logan though. He’d never win. Logan had been running since college. But that didn’t mean Tate wasn’t going to make him work for it. He got to the barn just before Logan did, and headed over toward the truck, figuring he could use it as a buffer.

What he didn’t realize was the truck was parked so close to the other end of the space that there was no way for him to get around it, so now, when he turned back to Logan, he found himself trapped.

He knew it, and when Logan came around the front of the truck, the smug look on his face told him that Logan did too.

* * *

“UH OH. This doesn’t look so good for you…” Logan said as he sauntered forward and Tate continued to back up toward the bed of the truck. “You’ve got nowhere to go, Mr. Morrison.”

Tate didn’t look worried in the slightest as he continued walking backward. In fact, one of his hands was massaging the obvious erection behind his jeans, even as Logan stalked him.

“Yeah, looks that way,” Tate said with a shrug, and when his back hit the corrugated wall of the barn, Logan kept coming for him, his fingers now unzipping his wet jeans and spreading the material apart.

When they were toe to toe, Logan reached out and took Tate’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, and as Tate’s lips parted and his breath caught, Logan swiped his thumb over his bottom lip and said, “You are so fucked.”

Tate’s eyes darkened with lust as he flicked his tongue over Logan’s thumb and said, “I can’t wait.”

You fucking flirt, Logan thought, as he dipped his thumb between Tate’s lips, and when he sucked on it, Logan growled. Tate shifted then, and Logan glanced down to see that he was undoing his own jeans to shove a hand inside so he could grab hold of his dick and stroke it.

“Damn. You’re just begging for it today, aren’t you?”

Tate’s cheeks flushed at the words, and his sex-hazed eyes were heavy as he slowly blinked and Logan withdrew his thumb, dragging it down over his lip.

“Yes,” Tate said, and arched his head back as he gave himself a nice, slow pull. “I want to feel you in me.”

Logan gnashed his teeth at the provocative words. Tate was seducing him with that mouth as well as his actions as he stood there masturbating for him. But there was no way Logan was about to let him off the hook that easy or be denied the pleasure of being the one to get him there.

As Tate’s mouth parted on a sigh, Logan placed one hand by his head on the wall, then drew his other fingers down the center of Tate’s chest and abs, where he stopped and swirled his fingertips around Tate’s navel. “Get these jeans out of my way, Tate.”

Tate worried his tongue over his lip, and then he was moving. He kicked his shoes off and shoved his thumbs into the sides of his jeans and boxers, and Logan moved aside so he could bend over and push them both to his ankles. Once they were gone, the socks removed also, Tate straightened and was naked as the day he was born.

Logan placed his hand back where it had been by his head, and then lowered his other to take hold of Tate’s stiff cock. When Tate cursed and squeezed his eyes shut, Logan flicked his tongue over his earlobe and said, “You know you deserve a whole lot of payback for what you pulled out there. Don’t you?”

Tate turned his head, and the sunlight slipping through the wood-paneled walls of the barn bathed his face, making his eyes the color of copper. He was gorgeous, and frustrated, as his jaw bunched and ticked. It was obvious he wanted Logan to move his hand, but Logan wanted him to make him beg.

“I ahh…” Tate started, until Logan tightened his grip. “Fuck, Logan.”

“Yes,” Logan said, ghosting his lips over Tate’s. “We already established that’s going to happen. And very soon, but first,” he said, giving Tate a final squeeze, “first I’m going to hold true to my word and get my fingers and tongue inside you. Because with how I’m feeling, you’re going to need to be good and stretched to handle me.”

* * *

TATE SHUT HIS eyes to try and get himself under some kind of control, because he knew if he didn’t rein it in here and now, he’d come the second Logan’s tongue touched any part of him. And fuck, I want to enjoy that dirty-talking tongue.

When he opened his eyes back up, it was to see Logan now naked, kicking his stiff, wet jeans away from him, and Tate couldn’t help the smirk it brought to his lips.

As Logan walked back the couple of steps needed so he was standing close enough that their cocks were grazing, he speared his fingers through Tate’s hair and pulled him forward from the wall.

“Laugh it up, because you won’t be for long,” Logan said, and then he crushed his lips down over the top of Tate’s.

Tate’s hands went to his hips in an instant, as Logan wrapped his other arm around his waist and flattened his palm on his lower back. Tate slid his tongue inside Logan’s mouth to rub it up against the one tangling with his, and when he felt Logan’s index finger slide down between his cheeks, Tate bucked his hips forward, wanting more.

Logan twisted the fingers he had in his hair and tugged his head back so he could press kisses up Tate’s jaw to his ear. When Tate grunted, Logan shifted them both, pivoting to the left so he could back him up until his ass was against the bed of the truck, and then he started to grind his erection against Tate’s.

Tate ran his hands down to grab a firm ass cheek in each hand and pull Logan as close as he could physically get him as Logan brought their lips back together in a kiss that bordered on brutal. Tongues dueled, lips were bitten, and when Logan finally tore his mouth free, it was swollen and red, and made Tate want to either suck it or fuck it. Either way would be fine with him.

Logan took a step back, and the both of them reached down to fist their dicks as they sized each other up. Naked and fully aroused, they were both clearly ready to go, and Tate couldn’t stop himself from spitting in his palm and starting to really jerk himself off.

“You dirty fucker,” Logan said as his eyes greedily took in all that he was seeing, and Tate could tell by the way Logan had to clamp a fist around the base of his cock that he loved what he was looking at.

Him, leaning bare-assed up against the side of the truck with his legs spread and his fist rapidly stroking his aching length.

“I’m going to let you keep doing that. But don’t you dare come until my cock’s inside you. Got it?”

Tate nodded, but said nothing as Logan took the couple of steps needed to stop in front of him again, and then he reached around to the back of the truck.

Logan bit the shoulder closest to him, and when he straightened with an old blanket that had been left in there from the last time they’d visited and taken the truck to the beach, he folded it over once and then dropped it on the ground at his feet. And Tate knew whatever was about to follow was going to test every ounce of control he possessed.