More (15 page)

Panic surged.

Matthew kissed me, then crawled over me to offer the same to Richard. He settled in between us like there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

Richard spoke his next words in the softest tone he'd used yet. “Hey, Matthew?”

“Yeah?”

“That was the first time you told us what you wanted in bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. I'm glad you're here. You too, Luke.”

“Thanks,” I said, the panic gone. A relaxed contentment had replaced it. And I didn't care what had caused it. I was glad to accept it.

I'd seriously lost my mind.

I woke up with someone else in bed with me for the first time in fifteen years.

Since college.

Since Tim.

Matthew lay curled between us, asleep on his stomach where he had landed the night before, one arm draped over Richard's chest, one of his legs tangled with mine.

I had figured the first morning would be awkward, but until the moment my eyes opened, I hadn't a clue how strange it'd be.

It wasn't my bed. Not my apartment. Not my usual life.

I needed to get my ass into the office. I wasn't going to change my Saturday routine for anyone. I spotted the alarm clock on the stand next to Richard. 5:45 a.m. I had some time. I dropped my head to the pillow and listened to the rhythmic breathing beside me.

The rock of the mattress woke me. I hadn't fallen back asleep in the morning in years.

I should check the time, get up, and
—

A warm hand lifted my cock. I drew in a sharp breath as one of my balls was captured by wet heat.

My eyes shot open wide. The blankets covered the figure working me over. I checked out the other side of the bed where Richard still lay on his back, sound asleep.

Of course. I should have known Matthew's technique.

He released me and squirmed up the bed until he popped his head out from under the blankets. “Can I suck you?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?” I reached for a condom and handed it to him.

He smiled, ducked back under the blankets, and rolled the condom over my dick. Pressure and heat engulfed the crown as his steady hand jacked the base.

“Matthew. Feels good.”

He moaned in response. I snaked my arm under the covers and rested my hand on his head, needing to connect with him more, my palm sliding over his hair with his every move.

Richard stirred and rolled to his side. His gaze switched between my face and the blanket-covered head bobbing over me as his own hand moved under the blankets in a quick stroke.

“Kiss me,” I said. He slid over without delay. His mouth crashed against mine. Our spit mixed, tongues tasted. Richard's hand flew faster and faster. I brought my free hand to his cock, and he moved his out of the way without complaint, thrusting into my touch.

I had no idea of the time, and it didn't matter. I couldn't have cared less if I made it to work that day or any other. Spending the morning in bed with them was the best Saturday in a long time.

Richard came first. His dick pulsated in my hand, the smell of his cum strong even from under the blankets. I kept touching him, spreading his cum over his cock, working him through every last twitch. Matthew's head bobbed faster; he sucked harder. I released Richard and arched. “Yes!”

Matthew brought me back down with slow swirls of his tongue even as his hips pumped against me when he came. He crawled up the bed and straddled me, smiling when his head popped out from under the blankets.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I wanted to.”

“Why me and not Richard?”

Richard sat up. “'Cause he knows you're the most likely of us to freak and bolt first thing this morning, bags in hand. Might as well show you what you'll be missing if you left so soon.”

Matthew blushed and nodded. Then he rolled onto his back in the middle of the bed and laughed. I'd never been with a man who laughed in bed the way he did. It was a good sound to hear first thing in the morning.

Matthew and I carried our bags up the stairs— managing everything in one trip— and paused at the top. Richard appeared at the end of the hall as naked as when we went to bed the night before. He waved us forward. “C'mon. I left you some drawers in here. You can put the rest in the spare rooms.”

I selected the room farthest from the master bedroom and closest to the stairs. I took a more careful inventory than I had the night before: a closet, small desk, dresser, chair, and bookshelf. All of it nicer than anything I'd had since I lived with my parents. I deposited my bags and unpacked the items I needed for the day.

I walked back into the bedroom carrying my clothes and shaving kit to find Matthew on the bed with Richard. The two were sharing a lazy kiss.

“Should I use the bathroom down the hall?”

“No,” Richard said, “you can use the one in here.” He returned his attention to Matthew. “Your mouth is a fantastic way to start the day.”

“You should feel it on your dick when you wake up,” I said over my shoulder.

I heard Matthew say, “Maybe tomorrow,” before I shut the bathroom door.

The showerhead was decadent and the hot water like a massage. Better than any shower at my apartment. Well, any shower not involving an imaginary blowjob from Matthew.

I shook my head under the spray. I could probably have that fantasy come true since I lived with the man. Funny how my life had changed from fantasy to reality in a flash. I didn't let the thought linger. No part of my current situation was a wish fulfilled. Was it?

I stepped out of the shower, shaved, and was ready to head out when I spotted a new bottle of cologne on the counter. Before I could stop myself, it was in my hands and the lid was off. What the hell was I doing? The stuff smelled good on him, but did I really need to be standing in the man's bathroom sniffing his personal hygiene products?

But one whiff and that thought vanished.

Not what Richard had worn the night before. The shit smelled like my goddamn father.

I wrenched the lid back on and shoved the bottle to the far end of the counter. I opened the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around my waist. Richard sat alone on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting for your own bathroom.”

“Not a problem. You live here now too. At least for now.” He winked. “Matthew's using the shower down the hall. I'm in no hurry to get going. I just need to get to the office for a few hours to prep for a meeting.”

He stood and approached me. His naked body came in close, but no part of his skin touched mine. “I thought about stepping in to join you, but I'm trying to keep my desire for all things intimate in check. I know this is new for you. It wasn't easy for you to wake up with us.”

“You seem to think you know a lot.”

“I can sense a lot. I'm hoping someday you'll feel relaxed here.” He moved past me.

The slide of his arm along mine had my skin tingling. Need settled in my balls; my nostrils flared. Why did the simplest of his touches drive me crazy? I smelled the remnants of the past twelve hours all over him. Semen and sweat and the cologne from the previous night. “Can I ask you a favor?”

He turned to me. “Sure.”

I pointed to the bottle on the counter. “Is that new?”

“It is.”

“Don't wear it around me.”

“Bad memories?”

“No. Just... you want to think of your dad when you're having sex?”

“Got it.” He grabbed the full bottle and threw it in the trash.

“Thanks.”

He gave a nod and stepped into the shower.

I dressed and headed to the kitchen, relieved to find a fresh pot of coffee already brewed. I opened cabinets in search of a cup and sat on a stool at the counter.

Matthew strolled in wearing jeans and a tight-as-hell black T-shirt with
Linkin Park
scrawled across his chest in gray lettering, his hair wet and somewhat straight. He spotted my coffee and headed to the pot. I pointed to the cabinet.

He fetched a cup and sat next to me. “You hungry?”

“I'll grab something on the way to the office. My Saturday morning ritual.”

“You work far from here?”

“Yeah. I used to walk from my apartment. It was closer, and I don't have a car. I guess I'll hit the subway.”

“I can drop you at the subway,” Richard said, “or at your office.” A clean, woodsy smell floated in with him. Simple, intoxicating. The same as the night before. And nothing like the bottle I'd found. He was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, reminiscent of the first night at the club.

“Thanks,” I said. “I like to walk for the exercise, but today, I'll take the ride to the subway. Not sure how long it'll take me to get there on foot.”

“I'll find out,” Matthew said. “I have to go to work for a couple of hours this afternoon. I'll let you know tonight.”

“Thanks, kid.”

Richard filled a travel mug with coffee. “Before we get going, I've got something for you.” He fished an envelope out of his pocket and removed two keys. He handed one to each of us. “These are for the house. They work on the front and back doors.”

Matthew ran a finger over the silver key and was quiet as he set it on the counter in front of him.

“You don't have to do this,” I said.

“What? The keys?”

“Yeah. We don't know how long we're staying.”

“If the three of us work out, I'm not going to kick you out of my house. You can stay as long as you need.”

“Okay.” Arguing with him seemed pointless. I dug in my pocket for my own keys and added the new one to the ring.

“I'll be ready to go in ten minutes,” he said, and left the room with a grin plastered on his face.

I stood. “Have a good day, kid.”

Matthew shifted in his seat. “You too.” Then he smiled, his dark eyes focused on me.

Fuck if I couldn't get used to that look every morning.

The bang of pots and pans greeted me as I stepped into Richard's. I followed the sounds and paused in the kitchen doorway. Matthew had his arms buried in soapy water, the suds climbing up past his elbows. Soap bubbles floated in the air over his head. How much detergent had he used?

He seemed lost in his own world, unaware of my presence. I leaned against the doorway and watched him fish out a bowl and rinse it.

I had stayed at work a few hours later than I expected. The recent distraction of lust had me further behind schedule at work. The added precautions on the way home didn't help.

It also didn't help that I spent two hours scanning Google results for one reporter named Mark Summers. Mostly his bylines with
The Washington Times
. The man's reporting habits didn't surprise me. He had found me when few people knew I existed.

Summers had a knack for locating dirt on anyone of import. Actors, politicians, sports personalities, Fortune 500 CEOs, basically the top 1 percent of the income bracket. It seemed like a sleazy way to make a living— pulling out people's hidden skeletons, no matter how old the bones, no matter how genuine the layers of dust covering them were.

The next question: Did he already have something on my father?

Any thoughts of Summers or my father were gone, though, as I watched Matthew. My gaze traveled to his ass. I didn't want to scare him, but I wanted to touch his fine body. Wasn't that one of the benefits Richard mentioned? I stepped close and pressed along his length. He sighed and leaned into me.

Right. Matthew wouldn't be startled by physical contact.

I ran my lips up the side of his neck. My nose grazed his skin. “You smell nice. Like cinnamon and sugar.”

“Luke.” His voice embraced a low moan with the sound of my name mixed in. Matthew wrapped his arm around me and cupped my ass with a wet hand. “I made apple pie for dessert.” He rotated his ass and squeezed mine. “You like herb chicken and roasted potatoes?”

I crushed my groin to his ass and wished like hell I could do more. But he'd made food. I stepped back and sat on a stool. “Sounds good. That was nice of you.”

“Nah. It's no big deal. I like to cook.”

“Where is he?”

Matthew nodded toward the hall. “Working in his office. He had some calls to make.”

“What was it like when he came home?”

Matthew dried his hands on a towel and leaned his forearms on the counter before me. “Weird. I felt like a wife meeting my husband at the door.” He let out a giggle. His head shook with the laughter. “And then I didn't know what to talk to him about. At this point, I know more about what he likes in bed and how his dick feels in my mouth than I do about him. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to be here. I'm just not sure how to get over the weirdness.”

“I guess we'll either get over it or this won't work out.”

Matthew straightened and frowned.

I wanted to reach out and distract him with more touching, but I didn't want him to think all I expected from him was sex. “I'm gonna head upstairs to change.”

“Okay. Food's almost ready. I'll give you a holler if you aren't back in time.” He returned to the sink and fished out another bowl from the soapy water.

“Leave the dishes. I'll help after we eat.” I didn't wait for a response.

When I returned a few minutes later, Richard sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. He was watching Matthew check the contents of the oven. I joined him, unable to look away from the smaller man. Matthew moved with energy and coordination I never possessed at any time in my life. I wasn't accustomed to spending so much time out of bed with two men whom I wanted with such ferocity. My dick was having a hard time understanding the delay.

Matthew turned, threw a paper towel in the trash, and smiled at us, his expression surprised, horny. “Food's ready. Uh, should we eat here again or in the dining room?”

Richard stood. “Here's fine.” He pulled three glasses from the cabinet. “You guys want water? Milk? Soda?”

I pushed aside the craving for a cold beer. “Water's good.”

The food tasted delicious. Better than the frozen chicken nuggets and corn chips I'd had the night before.

“This apple pie is fabulous,” Richard said. “I haven't had anything so good since my mom's.”