Teaser Tuesday #133

"-Je suis profondément, humblement désolé d'avoir dit que vous ressembliez à un parapluie.
Joan se raidit. Elle aurait préféré n'avoir jamais entendu cela.
-Je trouve stupide de la part des femmes de porter des toilettes qui ne leur vont pas, mais, bien sûr, la manière dont vous voulez vous habiller ne me regarde pas.
-Pas du tout, en effet, marmonna-t-elle.
Il observa son visage, puis :
-Combien de temps vous a-t-il fallu pour faire toutes ces bouclettes ?
-Une heure. Pourquoi ? Vous envisagez de vous en faire ? 
Il sourit jusqu'aux oreilles. Joan essaya de ne pas regarder sa fossette.
-Pas particulièrement.
-Tant mieux, ça ne vous irait probablement pas."

“You know what I’d really love to do?”
The clueless woman leaned in, and for some reason, Tate braced himself with his palms on the edge of the bar. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that whatever Logan was gearing up to say, was not going to be even remotely appropriate.
“No, what?”
Logan also moved forward until his lips almost brushed against the woman’s, but at the last second, he turned his attention on him.
“Your bartender.”
Okay, Tate thought, there’s no doubt here. My c*ck definitely knows who it wants.
“Huh?” Red asked, clearly not understanding.
But Tate wasn’t confused by the words or the look Logan was aiming at him. It screamed, You’re mine, not hers.
“Your bartender,” Logan repeated and turned back to face her while Tate held the wood under his hands. “I want to do him, as in take off his clothes and f*ck him, and you’re in my way.”

“You’re not the only one who has changed in the last two weeks.” He paused and brought a hand up to touch Tate’s mouth before taking a step back. “You make me want things that I’d forgotten I wanted.”
(...)
And with them both staring at one another, Tate asked, “So…what’s your truth, Logan?”. Logan stared at him so intently that Tate wondered what was going on inside his head before he replied, “I think you are,” leaving Tate speechless.

Tate brought his hands to Logan’s chest and smoothed them over the hard pecs beneath his blue shirt.(...) He grabbed Logan’s waist for a stronger connection, and that was when two female voices met his ears.
“Check it out,” he heard, and he opened his eyes to see a gorgeous blonde woman whack her friend on the arm. 
As they walked farther down the hallway, the brunette seemed to realize that she was watching two men. Not only that, but they were in the middle of nearly ripping each other’s clothes off.
“Umm, maybe we should give them a minute.”
Tate doubted a minute would do, especially since Logan hadn’t even noticed that they were being watched yet. (...)
“Does it really look like a minute is going to end that? In a minute, I'm hoping one is going to get down on his—”
“Shelly!”
Ahh, so this is Shelly and—
Logan finally noticed they had an audience, and Tate almost cursed the fact he’d stopped kissing his neck to face them. (...)
“Sorry, ladies. You know how it is. Once you start, it’s hard to stop.” (...)

The brunette seemed almost as mortified as Tate was starting to feel, but the blonde had no issue whatsoever as she pushed past her friend and eyed first Logan and then turned her curious gaze on him.
“You didn’t have to stop. I was more than happy to observe.”
“Oh my God, Shelly. Shut up!”
The blonde looked over her shoulder.
“Please do not pretend you don’t want to see more. I’ve never seen two men together and…just wow.”
Her friend said nothing as Shelly turned back to them both.
“Hi. I’m Shelly, and my embarrassed friend over there is Lena. You must be Logan.”
In true Logan form, he didn’t miss a beat. He took Shelly’s hand, bent down over it, and kissed her fingers.
“And why would you assume that I’m Logan?”
It was the battle of the blue-eyed duo, because the blonde narrowed hers and a devious smile stretched her painted lips. This woman was as confident as Logan himself.
“I’ve only met one other man who barely apologized for having sex in front of me, and that was your brother, Cole. I just didn’t believe Rachel when she said you two were practically cut from the same cloth. With only a few differences.”
As that last sentence left her tongue, Tate watched her eyes move over Logan’s shoulder to meet his own, realizing that he was the difference.
“You’re hot.”
“He’s mine,” Logan was quick to claim, and Tate had no problem with that.

“What do you want?” Tate whispered over the running water. “Be honest.”
When he stepped closer and cupped either side of his neck, Logan’s heart ached as it pounded in his chest. Then he raised his hands to circle Tate’s wrists.
“I want to know where you are when you aren’t with me, and I’ll wish I’m there.”
Can’t get more honest than that.

Around you, all I want to do is fall without thought.”