Tech Bros (Bay Area Bros Book 3), page 39
47
EVAN
My mom was pissed at me for leaving early, but from the moment Deacon dropped me off at her house, this was the only place I wanted to be. The elevator doors close behind me, and I take a moment to let the scene settle in. Isaac snuggled up to Deacon on the couch, his leg draped over one of Deacon’s thighs.
I glance between Deacon’s tiny frown and Isaac’s wide eyes staring at me in shock. They wanted you here, I tell myself, shaking off the quick pinch of jealousy and the much more intense rush of insecurity. Once again, it hits me how good they look together. How connected.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask.
“No.” Isaac scrambles to get off Deacon while Deacon gives him an assist. His first few steps toward me are quick, but like he thinks he’s gonna scare me off, he slows his steps until he stops several feet away from me.
We’re staring at each other, and I could count about a dozen emotions as they flash through his eyes. Confusion, relief, anxiety, concern, lust…love.
“I thought I was coming to get you,” Deacon says from the couch.
Without looking away from Isaac, I say, “I couldn’t wait.”
He runs a hand over his mouth as he takes a look back over his shoulder at Deacon. Deacon waves his hand like go ahead. Before Isaac has a chance to move, though, I take the permission and step up to him, putting my arms around him.
He immediately hugs me back, his nose digging into the side of my head where he inhales deeply. “I missed you so fucking much.”
“Me, too,” I say. “I’m so sorry I left. You deserve so much better.”
He rocks me in his arms, and I fit my arms snugly around his waist.
As usual, Isaac goes all in, never one to hold himself back. “Baby, I love you.”
I was ready for that. “I love you, too,” I whisper, glancing over at Deacon, really needing to know with a hundred percent certainty that he’s okay with this.
But his face is as impassive as it nearly always is. He’s standing, though, and walking toward us.
“Now can I touch you?” he asks, as Isaac and I loosen our hold.
“If you guys are sure—”
“We’re sure,” they say in unison.
I let go of Isaac with one arm, leaving enough room for Deacon. He crowds in, holding us both.
And then we’re kissing. All of us. It starts with Isaac’s lips on my cheek and Deacon’s on my forehead. I turn toward Isaac, finding his mouth with mine. I feel Deacon’s rough breath against my cheekbone, and then I’m turning toward him. We take turns like we’ve been doing it our whole lives. It turns out, there are a lot of ways to kiss a person, and only one of them involves tangling tongues. As Isaac devours my mouth, Deacon moves from his neck to my cheek until I’m kissing him and Isaac is gripping the back of my head to suck on my earlobe.
When I need a breath, Deacon makes a low noise that seems to signal Isaac to start kissing him instead, and I run my fingers through his hair while I fall into Isaac’s clean-smelling neck. It feels very much like they’ve been waiting for me, and I couldn’t have asked for a more reassuring greeting.
Isaac is the first one to pull away, putting a hand on each one of our faces. “I feel like we should talk,” he says.
Deacon and I share a quick look. I nearly grin, but Isaac is right, and I’m the one with all the explaining to do.
“I’ll be going back to LA on Monday,” I tell them. “But I wanted to see you. And tell you I’m ready. Really ready.”
“From LA?” Isaac asks with a whiff of desperation that I swear only makes him more attractive.
“For now. Yes.”
“Okay.” He breathes, worrying a lock of hair on the back of my head in his fingertips.
“Do you two need to be alone?” Deacon asks. He’s holding my hand, his fingertips moving through the minuet on my palm with faint pulses of pressure.
I look at Isaac.
“It’s up to you,” he says.
I shake my head. “You get a say, too.”
“How are you?” he asks. “How’s the job? Do you like being back in LA?”
I take that as a no to being alone, but if we’re gonna talk, we should get more comfortable than standing in between the foyer and the living room. “Let’s sit.”
Deacon pulls me to the couch and before I know what’s happening, he’s dragging me onto his lap, arms locked around my waist. Isaac sits next to him, gathering up my legs and draping them across his lap. I can’t argue too much about the position because I’m able to see them both, but I’m not exactly dainty, and it feels a little ridiculous. “Guys,” I laugh.
“Answer my questions,” Isaac insists as he tightens a hand around my calf.
“The company’s running great. I’ve mostly been working on my software, which lately means I don’t get out much.”
“Good,” Isaac says.
I smile faintly.
“He’s not seeing Hunter again,” Deacon says. “Right?”
“We’re just friends who work together. No benefits.”
“I’ve pictured a million things,” Isaac says.
“How’s Jake?”
“Oh.” His gaze drops from mine. “I’m not sure. Well enough to go back to school, but I worry, I guess.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“I know he was in a fight. I don’t know why or what started it.”
“I should have been here,” I whisper.
He holds my gaze and doesn’t disagree.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry, too.”
“Please. You don’t have anything to apologize for. Just so both of you know, I never felt forced into anything. I never lied when I said I wanted to try. I just care about you both so much, and I didn’t want to slow you down because I knew I was going to. It had to do with my issues. It wasn’t anything to do with how I feel about either of you.”
Deacon surprises me by speaking up. “Are you sure that’s right?”
I turn to him.
“I just mean it wasn’t exactly right with us—the two of us. Even before the fight.”
“I’ve thought about that a lot,” I tell him. “I think it was because something was missing.”
He frowns.
I put a hand on his face and turn it in Isaac’s direction.
Isaac is still looking at me, though.
“You center him,” I say, and I’m speaking to both of them.
Isaac looks at Deacon. They share a long look before Isaac wraps his other hand around the nape of Deacon’s neck. I smash their faces together like they’re dolls who need to start making out.
The result is much more satisfying than any time I ever did it with any of my toy soldiers growing up. A long kiss accompanied by a soft groan and sigh. The sigh is Deacon’s. Even as they kiss, he pulls me closer to his chest, proving in a way, that I was right. Isaac is one of the ways Deacon wants me. I can’t explain it any better than that. It’s something like Isaac brings out his intimate, soft side, and I can’t help but respond better to that than the side of him that wants to stretch me with his cock and a dildo at the same time. Not that I wasn’t absolutely game for that. But no matter how full he got my ass, there was a space in my heart that remained empty.
Whatever Deacon and Isaac feel for each other unlocks the part of Deacon that wants to be closer to me. Something about the note he sent me—once he had Isaac all to himself—made it make more sense.
But if sex or even sensual physical acts help him express his feelings, and he’s different with both of us, then being with both of us should help simplify. Or at least give Isaac and me the opportunity to see all of him.
They finish their kiss, and Deacon turns to press his nose to my neck, inhaling deeply. I interpret it as gratitude.
With his face still in my neck, Deacon says, “I think it’s good you left. You weren’t ready, and I needed to understand my relationship with Isaac better. That did take time.”
“I totally get that,” I say with my eyes on Isaac who’s once again staring at me.
“We talk about you a lot,” Deacon says. “Even when we’re having sex.”
This makes my eyes nearly pop out of my skull. “Why?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Sometimes it comes up. Sometimes it gets us off. You’re like the biggest thing we have in common.”
One of the best ways to talk to Deacon, I’ve discovered, isn’t face to face. It’s something more like this. His words are flowing in a mild, unbroken way. They don’t lack emotion entirely, but they’re not overburdened with it, either.
I wonder if this is what it’s like talking to him in the dark. We never really did that.
He keeps talking. “No one like you has ever liked me before.”
“Like me how?”
“This isn’t gonna sound right, but like sweet and pure.”
I snort.
Isaac grins, but he also shrugs like he gets what Deacon means.
“I don’t mean sexually,” Deacon goes on. “Well, I sort of mean sexually, but mostly I mean you’re not jaded, or on drugs, or super damaged.”
“I’m just regular damaged?” I ask.
He huffs. “Yeah. You’re like—boyfriend material.”
My chest flutters at those words, but the way he’s using them is suspect. “Does that mean you thought I was boring?”
“Not boring, but when you’re used to being treated like a piece of meat—hook up material—it was a little jarring to find someone who was interested in getting to know me. Who wants to try and understand me.”
“I wanted to fuck you, too. It wasn’t all innocent.”’
He and Isaac laugh softly. “But I feel like I have to earn that,” Deacon says.
“That makes me sound like I’m trying to get you to perform for rewards.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Let me try again. I mean like at any point, I can lose privileges based on something other than performance.”
“Still sounds bad,” I say.
“I like it, though, so whatever version of that you can think of as a turn on, think of it like that.”
“Being a demanding bitch is a turn on?”
“Having high expectations is.”
“They’re not that high,” I argue.
“What if we just call it having standards?” Isaac offers.
“It’s true,” I sigh. “I do have standards.”
Deacon sighs. “Okay, so we agree on something.”
“Deacon, we agree on a lot of things.”
When I look at him, he’s got a serious look on his face where I was expecting a smile. “I want to meet all your standards,” he says.
It’s not the most romantic set of words I’ve ever heard, but damn. My heart is thudding. “Fuck my standards. All they do is keep me from appreciating what I have.”
“Do you think I’m boyfriend material?” he asks.
“God, yes.”
Beneath my ass, I feel his cock twitch. Damn.
My pulse thrums. Fast and buzzing. That roller coaster feeling in my stomach is back. My dick fills and starts to rise. It occurs to me briefly—very briefly—that in all the conversations I’ve had with men since I’ve been in LA, Hunter included, I’ve had none of these feelings. Deacon and Isaac have been holding all my desire hostage and keeping it for themselves. At the moment, I’m not mad about it.
“Do you still think I am?” I ask, my voice a little thinner and lighter.
“Fuck yeah.”
“Mmph,” is the turned-on, overwhelmed noise I make when words fail me.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he says. “Roommates with benefits could have been fun, but this relationship is a lot of work.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Don’t be. You know how much I like to work. And I don’t just mean you.” Deacon nods toward Isaac. “He’s a lot.”
I manage a small smile.
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Now. Let’s talk about what kind of deal we can make to get you back in bed with us.”
“It won’t take much,” I say. “I’ve been pretty lonely.
“Is that why you’re here?” Isaac asks. “Get your fill and then leave us high and dry again?”
“I mean—you have each other.”
“Evan,” he practically growls as his hand runs up my thigh. “No one’s finished with you yet.”
“And when you are?” I ask, barely able to breathe.
“Let’s see how it plays out.” He leans in and presses a closed kiss to my lips, then he pulls back to examine me.
My eyelids are fluttering obnoxiously. “I love you,” I whisper. Then to Deacon, I say, “I’m in love with you, too.”
“I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Still not sure what it means, but I feel like it’s a good thing.”
His dick is fully hard beneath me, and it’s such a turn on. Mine is also raring to go. It’s tenting my pants in my lower periphery—a desperate thing.
I direct my next question at Isaac. “Is there anything you need to say?”
“Just that I’m here, and I support whatever you two need to do to figure out your issues.”
Deacon lifts his head, gaze intent on me. “It might take a minute.”
“Take all the time you need,” Isaac says, and I don’t miss his suggestive tone.
“You’re okay if I want him here?” Deacon asks me.
Swallowing hard, I nod. “I want him here, too.” With both hands, I drag Deacon in for a kiss. While I’ll probably never be able to kiss him the way Isaac does, I can kiss him the best way I know how. I take my time, probing his mouth and sinking in.
He inhales, and it draws me closer. Our mouths work in erotic tandem. I whimper, and he grunts, and we go after each other harder.
Isaac lets go of my leg, allowing me to move and straddle Deacon on the couch. Kissing him again, I hold onto his face, moving it and re-angling it so my tongue can rub and taste and explore his.
His hard cock presses against my stretched taint, and my body starts rolling against his, never stopping the kiss. Because it’s fucking perfect.
Isaac rubs my back but otherwise doesn’t interfere.
It’s exactly what I needed, and I think I’m finally starting to believe that I might have something they need, too.
48
DEACON
I’m excited. Like legitimately excited to be holding this hot little ass in my hands, and getting my face eaten out isn’t too bad, either. He’s a rockstar kisser. Filthy. Different than Isaac—like Evan’s kiss is way more sexual—and I am very into it. Isaac is next to us, watching us, makes me want to make it good for both of them.
I’m fucking dying to get Evan’s pants off him. I shove my hands down the back of his sweats, kissing him and digging my nails into his ass cheeks.
He’s writhing like he can barely control himself. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen yet, except maybe that one time he was on the couch in our apartment doing the same thing to Isaac.
Topping comes naturally to me now. Something changed when I met Isaac. My confidence. And also, maybe the lack of drugs clouding my senses made it easier to take control. I used to hate how controlling I am—the drugs were to help me let go, but when I’m with Isaac or Evan and they need me—I’m more than happy to let them know exactly how I want them.
I still need to let go sometimes—to get my brains fucked out. But these days, I prefer to call the shots.
I tug at Evan’s waistband to the point it should make him uncomfortable. “Get these off.”
He grunts and backs off my lap. He slides his joggers down his legs and starts stripping off his shirt, but I don’t wait. As soon as I see his nipples, I’m grabbing him by the torso and pulling him back down onto my lap.
With frenzied hands, he works my dick out of my loose pants and starts stroking as he brings his mouth back down on mine, hard.
“Isaac.” I hold out my hand.
With his unique ability to read my mind, it’s only a few seconds before he’s squeezing lube from the bottle we keep in the coffee table drawer into my palm.
Evan pants as I slick up my cock. “A month is too long.”
“He’ll help you make up for it if you let him,” Isaac says.
“Guys, fuck,” Evan grips his dick with mine, stroking them to make us both slippery.
It feels so good, I throw my head back and rock my hips up to help him out.
“And you?” Evan asks Isaac.
“What?” he says. “I’m helping.”
“Mmm…” Evan moans. Our cocks slip through his working hand while precum pulses from both of us.
“Careful,” I warn him.
“Tell me what to do,” he says.
I lift my head and zero in on one of his nipples, bringing my mouth down on it and closing my teeth around it, just enough to cause a twinge.
“Damn,” he whispers.
I lick the erect tip before sucking it between my lips. He gives our cocks another tight squeeze.
“Fuck…” he sighs. “Yeah.”
I chuckle at his hyper-responsiveness.
“I’m like really close. I should stop doing this.”
I respond with a hum against his nipple.
“It feels so good.”
I put my hand on his wrist and forcibly remove his fist from our dicks. He makes a pouty, disappointed noise. I fucking love it. Isaac is a pouter, too.
I slap his ass in a signal to get it off my lap so I can maneuver. He’s quick to obey and readjust, sliding closer to me, but he’s even quicker to reach around, aim my cock at his hole and slide right down onto it.
“Fuck,” I gasp at the sudden entry.
Isaac grunts. I glance over at him, and he’s got his pants open, his hand rubbing his erection over his underwear.
“Mmm…yeah.” Evan moans, planting his face against my neck and starting to work his entire posterior chain. “Hope this is okay.” He clenches in perfect time with my instinctive thrusts, raising and lowering himself with the strength of his thighs. His abs keep rolling, and my cock feels like a joystick inside him, going every direction once he’s got hold of it. It’s fucking amazing.
