More, page 21
I didn't say anything.
“I know this is a huge thing for you.”
I stared at my hands. No tensing. No freaking. No desire to run. “Okay.”
“What?”
I looked up at him. Hopeful green eyes gazed back at me.
“It may not seem like it, but I'm trying. I want to stay here. I want to make this work.” I want to believe nothing will make me leave. Not me. Not my father.
Richard flung himself at me. The force sent me sailing over the side of the chair. I landed on my back with him on top of me.
“Oh God. Luke, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Ow. I think so.” I laughed and rubbed the back of my head.
His fingers explored my scalp.
I brushed his hands away. “I'm fine.”
He smiled at me, and his lips covered mine again. He rolled us around on the floor, tickling my sides. I laughed more, letting the ease and comfort wash over me.
I attempted a dodge of his movements. My hips and ass wiggled, but his solid body pinned me in place. He unbuttoned the top of my pants and slid a hand in. I was still laughing as he grasped my dick.
He didn't relent with his hand or his mouth. I thrashed my hips into his touch. He knew how to work me with his big fist. I could smell my own need.
My hands grazed his bulge as I went for his pants, and he groaned. I lowered the zipper, pushed down his underwear, and released the red, swollen prick. As it always did, his cock firmed more with my touch. I considered taking him in my mouth, but his next words stopped me in my tracks.
“God, Luke. I need to fuck you.”
I stilled. “Maybe we should leave the clothes on.”
Richard threw his head back and laughed. “I'd hope I can have at least some control.” I stroked his cock. His eyes rolled back and he pumped his hips. “Uh... okay. Let's leave the clothes on, but let me at your dick.”
He undid my pants and lay on top of me. We rocked in swift jabs, sliding our dicks together, and came fast. We lay on the kitchen floor, breathless, our shirts lifted, our stomachs slick with our spunk, and our spent cocks lying free.
Some goddamn humping, and it was one of the best fucks of my life.
Richard reached for a kitchen towel and wiped us clean before he fell back onto the floor beside me. “Shit, never thought you'd say yes.”
“Me neither. When you first asked us to stay, I thought I'd be moving to Walter's after two days.”
He rolled onto his side and propped his head on a bent arm. “That was my fear. It only grew the more I got to know you. At first I didn't want to see you leave before you gave us a try. Then I didn't want to see you go because I didn't think I could take you walking out on us.”
I pushed him over and straddled his hips. I drove my lips, my body, my hands against him, letting him feel me, showing him I had no intention of leaving.
I swept my hands under his shirt. I'd never get over the addiction of his skin. My fingers brushed over the scarred flesh. “How'd you get this?”
A laugh rushed out of him. It was almost Matthew's giggle. It took a moment before he could form words. “Matthew asked me that the first week you were here.”
“I never said I was one for heart-to-hearts.”
He lifted a hand to my face. “I never asked you to be.” His fingers stroked my cheek. He dropped his hand and snaked it under his shirt to the edge of the scar by his nipple. “Some homophobic asswipes attacked me at a college party. One of them had a knife.”
“Oh God.” I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my fingers through the blond chest hair, over the firm pectoral muscles. His flesh jumped. Small bumps rose up. The color of his tan skin darkened. My fingertips examined the raised line of flesh.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Luke.”
I traced the scar to his underarm and back.
“I've never liked anyone touching me there but you.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “It was bad?”
“I was in the hospital for a week. I lost a lot of blood, and there was an infection. It was full of dirt and glass from the beer bottles. They dragged me pretty far.”
“What happened?”
“I've never hidden who I prefer to sleep with. My junior year I lived in a frat house on campus. Some of the brothers didn't like knowing a gay guy slept in the same house they did. They wanted me out, and beating the shit out of me was their best plan. I lost the fight.”
“That's hard to imagine.”
“It was me against five. I knew I'd never win. Not when I saw the knife. But I couldn't back away. I couldn't let them push me around.” He laid a hand over mine. “No one bothered me again. The rest of the fraternity respected me for fighting— for staying when it would have been easier to leave.” He moved our combined hands along the scar until my palm lay over his heart. “They sent me to a plastic surgeon, but I didn't want it fixed. I wanted the scar.”
“Why?”
“To remind me no matter where I go in life, someone could always have an issue with me. For whatever reason. Because I'm well-off. Because I'm opinionated. Because I'm gay. I can't let people get in my way or I'll never succeed; I'll never get what I want.”
“What do you want, Richard?”
“Right now? I want you to move in with me.”
“I want that too.”
We stared for several moments, watching each other's eyes, lips, and tongues. When the kiss finally came, he met me halfway, and the slow touch said more than the words we'd just exchanged. We didn't make it about anything more than being together— about saying what words couldn't.
We eventually let go, adjusted our clothes, and got off the floor.
Richard righted the chairs and took a seat. “I have to check in with Matthew when he gets home. See if he wants to talk. Maybe help him figure out what he wants to do next.”
“Yeah.”
“Will you be there with us?”
“Sure. But when the talking's done, can we fuck the shit out of him again?”
“Yeah. We're guys after all.” He winked.
I had missed that calm confidence. I didn't like being the reason he'd been upset. He deserved better. He gave Matthew and me a place to stay. He deserved the truth.
I sat across from him. “I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I don't want anyone knowing I'm living here.”
The pleased expression vanished, replaced by a creased forehead and a frown.
“I don't tell people where I'm living. Work never even has my address. I gave them Walter's.”
“Why?”
I sucked in a deep breath. “My father.” Easier to say than I expected. “I don't want him to know. I move around, never stay in one place too long, and he spends a lot of time and money to find me. His way of tormenting me.”
“Why would he want to hurt you?”
“I think he'd do anything to change me; but since he can't, he's been trying to control me, to get me to live the way he wants. I don't think he considers me a son anymore. I'm a challenge for him.” I shrugged. “I'd rather he didn't know. It's less complicated.”
“Okay. I won't tell anyone if that's what you want.”
“Thanks.”
“If you need help with anything, if there's any trouble, you'll tell me?”
I wanted to say I'd handle things on my own, but that would bother Richard. As much as I wanted to keep my father away from them, I couldn't let my own fears hurt either of them.
“I will.”
Richard and I settled in to watch a movie and were halfway through it when Matthew came home and headed for the kitchen. Richard flicked off the TV, and we trailed in after him.
He was bent over with his head in the fridge.
Richard smirked and groped his ass. “Hey.”
Matthew stood, a bottled water in his hand. “Oh, hi guys. Thought I heard the TV. Anything good on?”
Richard sat at the table. “No. How was dinner?”
Matthew sipped his water and sat. “Good. I feel bad I haven't told her about us. About Luke. She wants to see where I'm staying and meet you. I've been putting it off. She knows something's up. Most of my stuff's still at her place. I'm scared she's not going to forgive me for keeping this from her.”
I sat next to Richard and eyed him.
“Speaking of that, Luke and I were talking about making things permanent. You could move your stuff in. Tell your mom about us. Have her over here. We'll set this place up so it belongs to all of us.”
The water bottle halted halfway to Matthew's mouth. “Yeah?” He looked at me, those dark eyes unsure, uneasy.
“I'm going to bring over the rest of my stuff from Walter's as soon as I can.”
Matthew set the bottle on the table. “You're gonna live here?”
“I thought I already was,” I said.
“You know what I mean.”
“I want us to live together. Not as a temporary thing, but for real.”
Matthew sat taller. “You do?”
I reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze. “I do.”
His fingers looped around mine. “I want to live with both of you.”
Richard scooped up Matthew's other hand and kissed his fingers. “Me too.”
I gave Matthew's hand a squeeze and sat back. “I'm sorry about your job, but your boss sounded like an asshole.”
“He was. But I liked working there— up until they hired him.”
Richard took the cue again. “You want to talk about it? Talk about what your plans are?”
“Yeah?” The surprise in his voice tore at my heart. “I've been thinking about going back to school. Last time, I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do, and I messed it all up. I always thought I'd go back.” He swallowed a long gulp of his water and cleared his throat. “I need to give up my membership at the club. I don't have the money. I never did, but I needed it before so I made sure I could swing the fee. Now... we aren't going, and I'm not sure when I'll get another job.”
“I don't see a need for us to go back,” Richard said. “Unless we wanted to play somewhere. But I won't ever want to invite anyone else to join us.”
Matthew's unease melted away. He licked his full lips. I wanted to make love to that mouth. Show him how much I wanted to live with him, how much I wanted to be with him.
I had something to say first. “I don't have any reason to go to the club. I guess I see the point of somewhere we can go as a threesome, but as for playing around, I... I don't want to see anyone else touch either of you.” My knee bounced and my heel tapped the floor repeatedly.
Richard's hand gripped my thigh, and my leg stilled. No one's simple touch had ever ignited such need. Or such peace.
“Okay, Matthew,” Richard said. “Cancel your membership.”
Matthew smiled again. Then his expression sobered. He glanced around the kitchen. “Can we talk about living here? How do we split expenses and stuff?”
“Why don't you each give me what you can, and I'll put it toward the bills.” Richard looked my way. “You could make it the same as what you were paying for rent and utilities at your old place.”
“That wouldn't cover the cost of your water bill. I can swing more.”
“We'll work it out. And Matthew, you can wait until you get another job or figure out what your plans are. I want to know what you're paying your mom too, if you still need to help her, so we can factor that in. If you decide to go back to school, I can help with the money for tuition, give you a loan. We can discuss you assisting with the finances after you're done with school.”
Matthew set his water on the table. “That's... too much. I can't accept you paying for me to live here and for school. Even a loan. That'd be weird. I need to know I can take care of myself.”
“I understand. I've got the money and I want to help.”
“Thanks. I... I've gotta figure this out for myself. I keep messing up. For once, stuff was going good. I thought losing this job was me fucking up again. But maybe... ”
He stood, grabbed his bottle of water, and guzzled the rest as he meandered through the kitchen. He tossed the empty bottle into the recycling, opened the fridge, and stared inside. We'd just stocked it full of water and soda. What the hell else could he be looking for? I shifted in my seat. Waiting for people to talk was hell. Pure, evil, kill-me-now hell. Impatience boiled over. I was about to scream at him. I jammed my thumb into my thigh over and over. The dull pain distracted me from nothing. On the next jam, my thumb struck Richard's hand. He gripped my fingers and pressed my palm to his thigh.
I breathed more easily. Anything was easier when I was touching his body.
Matthew shut the fridge door and came back to the table. “Maybe I'm supposed to do something else. Go to school. Finally figure out what I want to do with my life. Maybe this time, it was a good thing.”
“That's a good way to look at it,” I said. “You should move forward, make your life better. Live here with us. Go back to school. Let Richard help you. Let me help you.”
“Thank you. For caring. For listening. For wanting to live with me. I'm gonna try. But right now it's uh, kinda late... ” He flashed us a teasing grin and cupped his groin as he walked backward. “Wanna go to bed— our bed?”
I couldn't hold back the laugh. “Yes.”
Richard stood and pulled me with him, grabbing Matthew before he got too far away. He wrapped his large arms around us. “Welcome home.”
We made love with Matthew suspended between us. He cried out one word as he came. “Home.” And when he landed on the bed, he laughed. “I'm home.”
“We all are,” Richard said.
I grunted my sated agreement. Pride like I'd never known before surged through me. Not pride in my work. Not pride in keeping my father and his men at bay. Not pride in my sexual conquests. Pride in who I was becoming. I'd stayed in the kitchen, listened to Matthew, listened to Richard.
My mind and body relaxed in an entirely new way. My thoughts ran free, spilling out of my subconscious in a rush.
I love having sex with them. I love lying in bed with them. I love listening to them talk to each other.
God, I love... no. I couldn't.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried hard not to think about those three damn words. It took everything I had to breathe, the pure relaxation long gone.
Chapter Twenty-six
Sleep continued to evade me for the next few nights. I convinced Richard and Matthew to hold off on moving our stuff in, suggesting we should wait until Matthew had a chance to talk with his mother and then rent a small truck to collect everything at once. They agreed, oblivious to my growing discomfort.
What the hell was I afraid of?
Falling in love with someone again? Or losing them?
I'd managed to travel down a slippery path I never thought I'd be able to stay on. I'd found what I'd lost years ago. And not just one man, but two.
But if my father found out, would he make good on his old promise?
I forced the concerns out of my head. I was still there, with them. I had overcome all of my other fears. I relaxed by the fourth day and found myself enjoying the company of both men again.
By the next Friday night, I was enjoying more than Richard's company. Matthew had gone to his mom's again for dinner. Richard and I made it an early night. We sucked each other off, sixty-nine-style, in the middle of the bed, and fell asleep soon after, Richard curled around me, my hand on his hip.
I awoke a few hours later to an empty bed. At first, it didn't seem odd— years of sleeping alone were hard to erase from the memory. Then sleep escaped me, and the peculiarity settled in. The bed wasn't supposed to be empty next to me. Not anymore. Not ever again if I could get up the nerve to order the damn moving truck.
I checked the clock. 1:36 a.m.
Where the hell were they?
I descended two stairs before I heard it: a low moan from the living room.
What the fuck?
They were screwing around without me. Why would they go to the living room? Any time before when two of us awoke wanting something physical together, we stayed in the bed. None of us saw a need to leave the third person out of it.
Or maybe they were doing more. What else would they hide from me? I wasn't surprised they wanted to have sex in the one way we'd agreed not to do outside the three of us. It was going to become a necessity. I didn't think any of us would mind, once we all said yes.
But we had an agreement.
I considered heading back to bed and letting them have their fun, but I wanted them to know they'd been caught. Hell, I might as well get off too.
I swallowed hard and turned the corner, anxious and not just a little bit aroused at what I'd see.
Both men were seated on the couch, fully clothed, Matthew's head on Richard's chest. His dark hair was mussed, and tears clung to his face. Richard spoke low, comforting words. His large hand stroked Matthew's back, smoothing the fabric of his shirt as he petted the smaller man.
I wanted to turn away, climb the stairs, and crawl back into bed.
Fucking I could join in on. Crying and hugging— I didn't know how to handle that.
Richard lifted his head. My heart raced at the concern on his face. Not good. Worse than Matthew getting fired. Worse than the night Richard drank with him.
He waved me over.
My legs twitched, wanting to move away from them as if they'd received an autopilot message from my brain; but when Matthew's miserable, tear-filled eyes met mine, I lurched for the couch and dropped to my knees.
“What is it?”
Richard answered. “He told his mom about us. She asked him not to come back. Said she needed some time. Said she's confused, disappointed.”
“She doesn't get it, doesn't know why I need this.” Matthew's voice cracked. His eyes were bloodshot, his pale skin ashen, his full lips dry. “She's never not accepted me— accepted who I am.”
My gut churned. Matthew wasn't supposed to look like that, to sound like that. He was fire and light and bounce. Pain and fear didn't look right on him.
“I was about to tell him I think we should go see her.” Richard lifted Matthew's chin. “Help her to understand.”
