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“Don't worry about it. Richard's still cooking. I don't think he does it all that often.” Matthew laughed. “He's dropped like three pans since I got here. And burned the first round of garlic bread. I'd be cursing and stuff, but he keeps at it.”

Matthew led me into a dining room. It reminded me too much of my parents’ with the long, solid wood table, a sideboard covered in crystal stemware, and a low-hanging brass chandelier. Formal. Polished. Stuffy. I wanted to turn around and leave. Matthew waited across the room. I went to him, my body anxious for him again. No way was I leaving while I was so close to him.

The smell of charred bread greeted us as we stepped into the kitchen. The smaller room reminded me nothing of my parents’ home. Their kitchen had been large and impersonal. Richard's was comfortable and inviting. A small table sat off to one side, and a long counter sported bar stools for close conversation with the cook. His home was impressive. Nothing like my place.

I was more impressed with the large man bent over, peering into the oven, his firm ass encased in denim.

Richard straightened. Oven mitts covered his hands. He held them in the air like a doctor who had scrubbed for surgery. A long black line of burned fabric streaked one side of a tan-colored mitt.

“Luke.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed me. The mitts pressed into my back. Soft and billowy, not like his warm, firm grip at all. Did people kiss at the beginning of a first date? Maybe when you'd already fucked. He stepped back. “You made it.”

“I guess I did. You've got a nice place.”

“Thanks. I bought it for the location. Not too far from my office downtown, but the neighborhood makes it feel like I'm in the suburbs. Have a seat. Dinner will be up in a minute.” He shed the oven mitts and tossed them on the counter. “I hope you guys like Italian. Want a soda?”

“I'm not picky,” I said. “A soda's fine.” A beer sounded good, but I assumed I'd never have another with Matthew nearby. Richard handed me a bottle of soda, and I took a seat on a stool.

“Did you find a new apartment?” Matthew asked as he sat next to me.

“Not yet.” I'd looked at four places available immediately, and none of them offered the necessary locations to hide any security cameras outside.

“What are you looking for?” Richard leaned against the counter behind him. “My business has a lot of real estate investments. Apartments. Condos.”

“You own the business?” I asked.

“I do.”

“Does it pay for this place?”

“It does.”

“Then the kind of apartment I'm looking for is way below your radar.”

Matthew chuckled.

“This place must have set you back,” I said.

“I do okay. I didn't invite you here to show off.”

“I didn't say that. I just... ” I was already fucking up. “I don't like to spend a lot on where I live. I doubt anything you'd invest in is what I'm hoping to find.”

“Fair enough.” He crossed his solid arms over his chest.

We glared at each other. Had I pissed him off, or was he working something out in his own mind?

Matthew's voice broke the silence. “I know what you mean. I've been looking around and everything is expensive in this city.”

Richard checked the bread in the oven again. “You're moving too?”

“I need to. I'm... ” He picked at the label on his soda. “I live with my mom.”

Richard stepped across the kitchen. He laid his palms on the counter in front of Matthew and lowered his head until eye level with him. “There's nothing wrong with that. Everyone's gotta start somewhere.”

Matthew shrugged. “She needs the rent money I give her. She's a great mom, real supportive of me. I have to be able to afford a place and still help her. It makes it harder to leave, you know?”

“That's nice of you,” I said.

“It is,” Richard said. “You'll work it all out. You'll find a place.”

Matthew nodded. He plucked away at the label on his soda.

Richard leaned back against the counter again. “So, Luke, can I ask why you're moving?”

I gulped down half the soda. “I can't stay where I'm at. I've gotta be out in a week.”

“Doesn't leave you much time.”

“Yeah. I'll figure something out.”

A timer on the stove chimed. “Bread's up.” Richard gestured to the table behind us. “Have a seat.” He dished out heaping plates of garlic bread and penne pasta covered in a thick tomato sauce before he spoke again. “I realized the other night I don't know your last names. Since we aren't at the club anymore, I'd like us to come clean. My name's Richard Marshall.”

Matthew smiled at Richard. “Matthew Stewart.”

They turned my way.

I hadn't given my last name to any man I'd fucked in years. Couldn't we have started with something like my favorite brand of beer or action flick? But this wasn't a make-some-small-talk-till-you-get-in-his-pants conversation. This was a date. “Luke Moore.”

“Well, Matthew Stewart and Luke Moore, dig in. I hope you like the pasta.” He took a bite and groaned in approval of his own effort. “So, tell me about yourselves.”

No matter what, there were things I wouldn't tell them. Hell, I couldn't think of one thing to say. I stuffed a large forkful of the pasta in my mouth and gave Richard a favorable nod.

Matthew hadn't eaten yet. He looked between me and Richard as if waiting for me to answer or for Richard to encourage me in some way.

“Matthew, where do you work?” Richard asked.

Matthew settled an elbow on each side of his plate. “I work part-time at Champion Music. It's in the Southview mall. I manage the inventory and cover the register when I'm needed. I don't make a lot but enough for now, I guess.”

As each word passed over his lips, I relaxed into the chair.

“I'm thinking about going back to college,” he said, “but I need to save the cash first. I sorta got into some trouble my first semester and I, uh... I had to move back home. I never went back to school.” He shifted in his seat.

“Where do you live?” Richard asked.

Matthew ran a hand through his dark hair. “On the south side near Chesterfield Park.”

“You go pretty far to get to the Haven.”

“Yeah. It works for me. I make the time to get there.”

“I'm glad.”

Matthew ducked his head.

Richard watched him for a moment more, then looked my way. “What do you do?”

I drew in a shaky breath. They had to have heard it, but I couldn't have prevented it. I breathed deep again and did what I had when I was seven years old and went swimming for the first time at my parents’ country club. I squeezed my eyes shut and jumped in before the fear stopped me.

“I'm a developer at Knox Consulting. It's an IT consulting firm.” I shoved the food around on my plate. A solitary piece of pasta stuck to the end of the fork as I twirled the utensil around in the thick sauce. I shook the fork to free the pasta from its prison. It wouldn't budge.

“A rather prestigious firm,” Richard said.

I lifted my head. “Huh? Oh, yeah, they are. It keeps me busy.”

“Not too busy, I hope.” He smirked and took another bite. His tongue snaked out and caught a bead of sauce that lingered on his bottom lip. He winked.

I shook my head. The man never let up.

“Are you a programmer?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah. Mostly Web-based applications for corporations.”

“Cool. The Internet rocks.” He smirked. “I mean, it's how I learned a lot of stuff. I can't imagine what you all did for gay porn when you were teenagers.”

Richard about choked on his food. He downed most of his soda and laughed out loud once he could breathe.

“Well, kid, back in the Stone Age, we had to carve dirty pictures on the cave walls and hope our parents were too busy hunting and gathering to notice.”

Matthew giggled. “You really have your own business?”

Richard wiped his mouth and laid his napkin across his lap. “I do. I started it ten years ago. I own and manage a number of investments, mostly development and real estate holdings.” He looked my way. “Despite what my house looks like, my work is important to me because I want to succeed, not because I want to be rich.” He smirked. I took it to mean I hadn't royally pissed him off. “I know I'm jumping into things here, but I'd like to ask you guys about sex, if you don't mind.”

“Why the hell would we mind that?” I said.

“I should have known it's the subject you'll speak of more easily than your personal life.”

I nodded and took another bite of the pasta. Sex was less complicated.

“We don't know each other all that well,” Richard said, “and we're agreeing to meet outside the club. I want to know what you expect.” He swallowed another gulp of his soda and eyed us. The look reminded me of one chess players hid behind. A mix of repressing a reaction and reading the other player's next move. His game face. “I think it'd be best if we put our cards on the table and see what each person wants and needs from this.”

Matthew waved a hand in the air and picked up his fork. “I'll go along with whatever you two decide.” He took a bite. “This is really good.”

Richard shook his head. “No, Matthew, you won't. You don't know what sorts of things we're into. You could get hurt— emotionally or physically— if we were to do something you didn't want. And I'm not only talking sex here. I want to see more of you. I want to get to know you. I don't want to take a chance I'll do or say something to hurt you.”

Matthew cocked his head to the side. “Isn't that what dating is? Taking risks? Seeing if someone is compatible with you?”

Richard leaned back in his chair. “I don't take risks. Not in my personal life.”

“Okay. Let me think about it. Maybe you or Luke can talk first.”

Richard remained still for a moment more, his game face back in play. “I've already said what I think about you guys sleeping around. I'll add one other thing. This is a little different than anything I've been involved in before. Three guys. I think we should consider a rule about sex as a group. Two of us can play at any time, but no actual sex— and I mean penetration— unless the three of us are together in the same room. Later, we can all agree to change that if we want. For now, if it's two of us, we can rub off, exchange blowjobs, or whatever, but no fucking. It leaves something for us to do together.”

Well, hell
. He sure liked his rules, and every one of them was in direct conflict with my own. I glanced at Matthew. He had a forkful of pasta paused three inches from his mouth, his large eyes staring at Richard.

It didn't seem like Matthew was going to say anything, so I spoke. “Can I ask why?”

“Trust takes time. Time we should spend together. We are three people, not two. It may not be conventional, but it's what I want to try to make work. I don't think it's reasonable to suggest we do nothing at all. I can agree to getting off without fucking. That way when I get stuck at work late when we're supposed to get together, you two don't have to go it alone. We can all get some release when we need it.”

I looked to Matthew again. A blowjob would be a great diversion.

A diversion
? Since when did I need a diversion when it came to sex? Did I want to make this work enough?

“Okay,” Matthew said.

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“Okay, Luke, what are your rules regarding sex?” Richard asked. “What would you agree to? What do you want to avoid in terms of the three of us?”

All of it
. But that answer didn't sit right with me. Not any longer.

I'd never set the rules for anything more than one night of sexual play. My mind filled with all the things I should mention. What I would do. What I wouldn't do. But it all seemed unnecessary. A conversation of strangers. They were beginning to feel like anything but. “Condoms all the way around for sex and blowjobs— even if you want to have tests done or whatever— until I say differently.”

“Sounds good,” Richard said. “Trusting what we say about not playing around isn't easy to take on faith. For any of us. If this works out, I'd like us to get tested, but I'll agree to condoms until the last person says they go.”

Matthew grabbed his soda and plucked away at the label again.

Richard eyed the younger man. “Matthew?”

“I, uh... I blow guys all the time without a condom, but I... I've never agreed to sex without one. I'm not sure I'll know when to go that far. I don't really know you. I'm ah... I'm afraid I'll take a risk when I shouldn't.”

“You won't. You'll either know we've been tested and that you trust us, or if you aren't sure, we'll still be using the rubbers. Plain and simple.”

Matthew ripped off a section of the soda's label and sat back in his seat, folding the jagged piece until it would fold no more.

I continued. “I'm not into the D/s or S&M lifestyle. Some bondage— as you know— but that's it. I'm not into the power or pain thing.”

“What you've said fits my tastes.” Richard ate the last bites of his dinner. “I want equal partners.”

Partners
? Were he and I having the same conversation? I rushed to say the rest before I changed my mind and walked out of his house. “As for anything else, we're all used to the club scene, discussing sex openly. If one of us has something in mind, he asks.”

Richard set his fork down. “At least I know you will. You'll probably describe where you want our hands, mouths, and cocks each time we fuck.”

I laughed. “Probably.”

Richard gestured to Matthew. “Your turn.”

Matthew unfolded and refolded the plastic label as he talked. “I agree with what Luke said. I've done some of the BDSM stuff, and it wasn't for me. I shouldn't have tried it. I knew it wouldn't work out, but I liked the guy. I don't care to be tied up. I get frustrated, and I don't like feeling restrained. I like to touch, to move. And the pain stuff... it hurt, like a lot, and I wasn't in the mindset to enjoy it, so... well, it sucked all the way around. When he finally stopped hitting me and fucked me, I couldn't even come.”

Someone had hurt him instead of taking him to places he could enjoy. I glanced at Richard. The skin of his forehead was puckered together in a series of vertical lines.