Those blue eyes glittered as Tate stared back at him, but he didn’t say a word.
“You felt it,” Donovan said, his voice soft and low. “I know you did.”
For the first time in his life, Donovan knew what it felt like to be completely vulnerable to someone. Because right now, right here, he was stripped bare.
***
Tate couldn’t believe this was happening.
He couldn’t believe the words coming out of Donovan’s mouth.
Was he saying…?
“Yeah,” Tate admitted. “I felt it.”
“But you’re content with one night?”
“I can be,” he said without thinking.
“Why?”
Tate held Donovan’s stare and ignored the pounding of his heart. “If that’s all I can have…”
“It’s not,” Donovan growled, his hands sliding up Tate’s back as he pulled him closer. “Are you even listening?”
Damn right, he was. He simply wasn’t understanding. This never happened. For as long as he’d lusted after this man, he figured one night was a fantasy. Never did he think he’d get that much. Now Donovan was telling him—
“You can have me,” Donovan said, his voice low. “If you want me.”
Tate was positive he was dreaming. Or perhaps he’d been cast in one of those Hallmark Christmas movies, and no one had told him.
“Tate?”
“Hmm?”
“But only if I can have all of you.”
It took a second for him to realize he was cupping Donovan’s face with both hands, staring at him.
Donovan canted his head. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” he whispered. “I want you.”
A rough growl rumbled in Donovan’s chest, and the next thing Tate knew, he was crushed against him in a bear hug, their lips pressed together as Donovan licked his way into Tate’s mouth. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, considering how tightly Donovan was holding him.
Tate’s hands shifted to Donovan’s thick, corded neck, and he held on while their tongues danced, and his chest expanded with an emotion he hadn’t felt in a really long time.
This time, when the bells over the door jingled, Donovan released him. He didn’t step back immediately, though.
“I’m gonna lock that fuckin’ door,” he mumbled under his breath before turning around.
When Tate looked up, he grunted with disappointment. Ben was standing there, staring at them like he’d never seen two men kissing.
“You could’ve just told me,” Ben said, his tone biting. “I wouldn’t’ve wasted my time.”
“Something tells me you don’t waste a precious second, Ben. If you’re not with one guy, you’re with another.” Tate huffed a laugh, but it lacked an ounce of mirth. “Hell, even when you’rewithone guy, you’re with another.”
“Can we help you with somethin’?” Donovan asked, stepping out from behind the counter.
