Authors: Sloan Parker
He glanced around the room in a quick sweep. His gaze stilled. “Luke, I think we have our third.”
I focused my attention across the dining room. The man strolling toward us still took my breath away. The dress slacks and shirt he wore were the same ones I'd seen him in the first time. I pictured the muscular, strong body that lived underneath. There was no part of him I hadn't explored with my eyes, my hands, my mouth, my tongue.
“You two want to be alone?” That voice still did things to me, had me undone with just a few words.
“No,” Matthew and I said in unison.
“I didn't think so.” He grabbed the back of a chair from the nearest table, swung it around, and sat. “Richard.”
I waited for him to reach out and shake Matthew's hand, but he didn't, obviously as concerned about his ability to limit the contact to one handshake as I.
“I'm Matthew.”
“You're cute, kid.” The stare lingered between them.
Richard looked to me. All thoughts of what I was supposed to say next were lost. Green eyes, the strong lines of his face, and the love I saw there entranced me.
“Uh, Luke. You forgot to tell me your name.”
Matthew threw his head back and laughed. The sound settled in my soul.
Richard continued despite my blunder. “Nice to meet you.” His eyes met mine again. “What do you want?”
“Right now?” I grinned. “You. Both of you. Forever.”
Before I'd met them, I'd been waiting and looking, only I hadn't known what it was I needed.
Sitting in the Haven again with them, I knew.
I stood. We didn't need to determine our wants or desires, our rules or limitations. We already knew one another in a way I'd known no other men in my life. I wanted to hold, kiss, touch, and make love to them. For that we needed to either get our asses home or upstairs in a room.
The rooms upstairs were closer.
I took a step away from the table. Richard reached out and grabbed my hand. His large body slinked up mine as he stood. “Dance with me?”
“I thought— ”
“We've got all night.”
“What about Matthew?”
Matthew stared up at us, his dark eyes wide, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.
“This is for him,” Richard whispered. “He has a thing for watching us.” Richard bent down to him. “Stay here? Watch?”
Matthew's eyes widened. His head bobbed.
Richard ran a hand through Matthew's dark hair as he moved by the table. The same hand found mine, and I went with him.
He chose a spot on the dance floor near the edge of the crowd, keeping Matthew's line of sight clear. He gave Matthew a smile before he turned to me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
I gripped the front of his shirt with both hands. The beat of the music thudded in my chest, or it might have been my heart. He cupped my chin in his hand. I met his eyes and wound my arms around his neck.
Easy. Right. No thought required. We moved as one.
“You've never done this before?” he asked.
“I'm that bad?”
He licked and nipped along my neck to my earlobe. “I like how you move. It was a guess.”
“A good one.”
He pulled back. “Not with another guy?”
“Not with anyone.”
He gripped the back of my neck and whispered in my ear. “I like that there are some things that can be just for us.”
Another exploring hand ran over my ass. Not a random guy hitting on me. The touch was too familiar.
I reached behind me, gripped the waistband of his pants, and yanked him around until Matthew pushed between us.
I wrapped an arm around him. “He didn't last long.”
“Nope.” Richard's open palm rubbed Matthew's cheek. “But that's okay. He's right where he needs to be.”
Matthew laughed and pressed closer.
I looked to one, then the other. A freedom I'd never known washed over me. The last remnants of the man I'd forced myself to be for so long were gone. I was free... free from the past... free from my father. All that remained was the truth.
I grabbed Matthew's face in my hands. “Matthew, I love you.”
He bit his lip and leaned into me, his arms slipping around my neck, his body shaking against mine. I held on to him until he stilled.
When we let go, I laid a hand on Richard's chest, and he moved closer. His green eyes scanned mine. His chest heaved with each breath.
“I love you.”
He buried his face in my neck. Wet drops tickled my skin. His tears.
I held them close and said what my father never could. “I'll love you both until I take my last breath.”
Sloan Parker writes romantic, erotic stories of love and passion. She likes to create complex characters, imperfect people who are growing as individuals, living as true to themselves as they can, and of course, falling in love.
Sloan wrote her first book, complete with hand-drawn illustrations, in the second grade, and never looked back. She believes that in fiction— and in love— anything is possible.
You can find out more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.
www.loose-id.com