by Elle Kennedy
Yanking on the waistband of her yoga pants, Aidan pushed her onto her back and crushed her with his strong body. His hands fumbled to shove his own pants down, his erection sprang free, and then he pushed it inside her without warning. But she was ready for him, slick with desire that had erupted out of nowhere and overcome with the need to soothe him, to please him, to bring him any comfort she could, even if it was of the carnal variety.
Aidan’s cock plunged into her again and again. His mouth hungrily devoured hers. The intensity of his passion scared her, thrilled her, liberated her. She met him thrust for thrust, her inner muscles squeezing his thick shaft as shockwaves of pleasure rocked her body.
“Oh God, I’m coming.” Even as she choked out the words, she was still stunned by the sudden orgasm that exploded inside her. It started between her legs, then detonated, shards of pleasure flying to every part of her body, making her gasp in surprised delight.
The spasms of her pussy set Aidan off. He came with a loud cry, moaning her name as his cock twitched inside her. She could feel his heart hammering against her breasts, a fast, reckless rhythm that matched her own erratic pulse.
Letting out a deep breath, Aidan cupped her cheeks with his palms and stared at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “I should have said this three days ago, but…I love you too.”
Her chest squeezed with emotion. “I know.”
He kissed her tenderly, then slid his cock out of her still-throbbing pussy and rolled over.
And it was at that moment they both realized he hadn’t worn a condom.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Are you…fuck, are you on the pill?”
She shook her head in regret. They’d been using condoms this whole time, and she hadn’t gotten around yet to finding a doctor in San Diego and getting a birth control prescription.
When Aidan swore again, she gently touched his cheek. “It’s not the right time in my cycle, so I think we’re okay. But if I…if I get pregnant…gosh, what would we do?”
Suddenly she was the one in need of reassurance, and Aidan didn’t hesitate to give it to her. “We’d do whatever you wanted to do. Just know that if you chose to keep it, I think the three of us would make pretty kickass parents.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I still don’t know how any of this is going to work.”
“Same way it’s been working so far. We live together, we love each other.”
“And you want to have kids with me? With me and Dylan?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“What about marriage?”
“If you really want that wedding you didn’t get to have with Chris, then one of us will give it to you. No matter whose name is on that marriage license, you’ll always belong to us both, baby. And we’ll belong to you.”
She watched him unhappily. “You don’t just belong to me, though. You belong to each other.”
Aidan looked startled. “I know that.”
“Do you? You know Dylan loves you, right? He loves you, but he’s too scared to tell you because he thinks you don’t feel the same way, or that you won’t say it back.”
Distress flickered in his dark eyes. “He really thinks that?”
She nodded.
“I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I love him, Claire.”
“I know you do.” She slid closer and placed her hand directly over his heart, which was beating even faster than before. “But I’m not the person you need to be saying it to.”
Dylan had never felt more relieved in his life than when Claire and Aidan finally returned to San Diego four days later. Four fucking days. Sure, he’d spoken to both of them on the phone several times, had listened in wide-eyed horror as Claire told him about the secret Aidan’s dad had kept from his son all these years, but he hadn’t felt an ounce of comfort until now. Until he saw the two people he loved most in the world walk through that door.
He soaked in the sight of them—Claire, with her shiny auburn hair and big brown eyes. Aidan, with those intense dark eyes and powerful body.
“Welcome back,” Dylan said quietly.
Claire came to him first, hugging him tightly before standing on her tiptoes and kissing him senseless.
He’d barely had time to breathe when Aidan stepped in and greeted him with a kiss that packed an equal amount of heat and passion.
Dylan raised his eyebrows when they broke apart. “What was that for?”
Aidan shrugged. “Just missed you, is all.”
Pleasure floated through him. “I missed you, too, man.”
“Ditto,” Claire spoke up. She grinned. “With that said, you’re going to have to miss me again, because I have some groceries to pick up.”
“Now?” Dylan said. “You literally just walked in.”
“And when I left four days ago, the fridge was completely empty.” She raised her eyebrows. “Did you replenish our supplies during that time?”
He gave her a guilty look. “Um…”
“That’s what I thought. Ergo, I’m going grocery shopping. Someone has to make sure my big, manly men are well fed.” She glanced at Aidan and held out her hand. “Keys?”
With an indulgent smile, he dropped the car keys into her waiting palm. “Don’t take too long.”
Dylan observed that the other man was strangely upbeat for someone who’d just discovered his mother had tried to kill him, but he bit his tongue to stop from asking why. If Aidan had managed to find some peace about the whole fucked-up situation, who was he to dredge it all up again?
However, Aidan ended up surprising him—the moment Claire left the condo, the other man fixed him with a sad look and said, “So my mom was alive for half my life and I never knew it.”
“I know. I’m so sorry, man.”
They drifted over to the couch, where Aidan spent the next fifteen minutes telling him everything that had gone down with his father, including their final visit, during which Tim had asked for his son’s forgiveness.
“What did you say?” Dylan asked.
“I told him I needed some time.” Aidan sighed. “Claire keeps reminding me that time is something we might not have—I mean, he made it through the surgery and he’s definitely on the road to recovery, but who knows what the future holds. He could have another heart attack tomorrow, or next week, or next month. She thinks I should forgive him now, while I still have the chance.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think she’s right, of course. That woman is always fucking right,” Aidan grumbled. “I tried to point out that she isn’t even speaking to her own parents, and you know what she said? That it’s not for lack of trying. Do you realize she calls them every day? They fucking disowned her for the sole crime of falling in love with the two of us, and she still calls them every fucking day. They don’t pick up, but she insists that one of these days they’ll come around and—why the hell are you looking at me like that?”
Dylan shook his head in amazement. “Do you realize you’ve spoken more in the last ten minutes than in all the time I’ve known you?”
Aidan bristled. “That’s not true. I talk to you all the time.”
“Not about important stuff.”
Dragging a hand through his hair, Aidan offered a remorseful look. “Fuck. You’re right. I don’t. But I’m gonna try to change that. I don’t think I’ll ever be as open about everything as you are, but I promise you, I’ll try not to keep you guessing all the time about how I’m feeling. Starting now.” He took a breath. “I love you, man. I really, really love you. Like a lot.”
Dylan couldn’t even describe the hot rush of emotion that ballooned in his chest. “You do?”
Aidan nodded.
Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, he edged closer and touched Aidan’s jaw. The other man hadn’t shaved in days, which was totally unlike him. But he looked so unbelievably sexy with all that dark stubble shadowing his face.
Running his fingertips over the bristly hairs, Dylan brushed his lips over Ai
dan’s and said, “I love you too.”
Pleasure flared in those dark eyes he loved so fucking much, followed by a flash of heat that came out of nowhere and led to a wild, openmouthed kiss that Dylan didn’t see coming.
That one kiss was enough to set the room on fire. Aidan’s tongue filled his mouth and robbed him of breath, and then warm male hands were sliding underneath his T-shirt and running over the bare skin of his chest.
Aidan abruptly pulled back. “Bedroom. Now.”
He didn’t need to ask twice. In a nanosecond, Dylan was on his feet and racing toward the master bedroom.
They rid each other of their clothes and stumbled naked onto the bed, mouths seeking mouths, chests rubbing together, cocks straining as their lower bodies ground against each other. Every inch of Dylan’s flesh was scorching as Aidan’s lips traveled along the curve of his jaw, as Aidan’s hands roamed his body. When a rough-skinned hand cupped his balls, he groaned with abandon, shuddered with anticipation.
Aidan fondled his tight sac, then gripped his erection and gave it a slow pump. His mouth found Dylan’s neck, lips latching on and sucking until Dylan was moaning so loudly he was worried the neighbors would hear him.
“Love you,” Aidan rasped. “Love you so fucking much.”
Dylan grabbed the other man by the hair and yanked his head up, bringing him in for another kiss as he thrust his cock into that strong male fist.
When that fist suddenly disappeared, Dylan growled in displeasure, but Aidan just chuckled and said, “Not going far. Coming right back.”
And he kept that promise, climbing back onto the bed a moment later with a condom covering his erection and a tube of KY in his hand.
“I wanna be inside you.” Aidan’s eyes burned with desire. “I wanna look into your eyes as I fuck your ass and I wanna see how much you love it. How much you love me.”
Excitement gathered in his groin as Aidan lubed up two fingers and teased Dylan’s asshole with just his fingertips.
“No prep. Don’t wanna wait,” Dylan choked out. “I need you, Aid.”
Aidan made him wait, but only for a second, only so he could slather the warm lube onto the condom covering his cock, and then he lowered his body so they were chest to chest, groin to groin, thigh to thigh. He propped his forearms on either side of Dylan’s head and positioned his cock.
When the blunt head pushed through the tight ring of muscle, Dylan’s entire body trembled from the sheer pleasure of that stretching sensation. The burn, the heat, the feeling of completion.
“More,” he mumbled.
Aidan slid in another inch, then another, and another, until the entire length of him filled Dylan’s ass. They both moaned.
“So good,” Aidan said hoarsely. “Always feels so fucking good.”
Aidan began pumping his hips. Nice and slow. Thorough and sweet.
Dylan gazed into the other man’s eyes, floored by what he saw. Gulping, he moved his hand between their bodies and wrapped it around his swollen cock. He was going to explode any minute now. Any second now if Aidan kept looking at him with those smoldering liquid-brown eyes, with that unmistakable glimmer of love.
“Not gonna last long at all,” Aidan murmured ruefully.
“Me neither,” he murmured back.
Their gazes stayed lock as Aidan drove his cock in and out of Dylan’s tight passage, each stroke hitting a spot deep inside, eliciting a flash of pleasure that soon gathered in intensity and turned into a raging fire that threatened to burn him alive.
“So…good,” Aidan muttered.
“Give it to me…faster,” Dylan grunted.
Soon their husky words became broken, nonsensical, just guttural commands and pleasure-laced groans and finally, nothing but strangled curses that heated the air between them.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” Aidan drove into him so hard the headboard smacked the wall.
Dylan jerked off faster, his fist flying over his cock. “Coming… Fuck.”
He exploded in a boiling rush, hot come splashing his abdomen. His entire body trembled, moans of ecstasy escaping his lips only to be swallowed by Aidan’s kiss. Aidan’s tongue slid into his mouth at the same time the cock in his ass began to pulse.
“Fucking love you,” Aidan moaned. Naked pleasure washed over his dark eyes, and he was trembling just as hard as he came inside Dylan’s ass.
They were still lying there, Aidan’s cock lodged deep inside him, when the landline rang, three long rings that indicated a call from the front lobby.
“Claire must have forgotten her key,” Dylan said with a sigh.
With a reluctant groan, Aidan pulled out and handled the task of removing his condom, while Dylan reached for the cordless and answered with a quick hello.
Sergio, the guard who manned the desk, spoke in a brusque voice. “I have a Ron McKinley asking to be buzzed up. He says he’s here to see Claire.”
Dylan almost dropped the phone.
Claire’s father was here?
Claire’s father was here?
“Oh,” he blurted into the receiver. “Uh…one sec, Serge.” Covering the mouthpiece, he directed a panicked look at Aidan. “Claire’s father is downstairs,” he hissed.
Aidan’s face paled. “Shit. Shit.”
“I know, right?” Dylan quickly brought the phone back to his ear. “Um, let him up.”
The second he hung up, both men flew off the bed in a manic search for their clothes. Son of a bitch. What the hell was Claire’s father doing here?
Aidan vocalized Dylan’s thoughts. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“I have no clue, man. No clue.”
“Maybe he’s here to kill us,” Aidan suggested.
Dylan froze. “Do you think I should get my gun?”
“No. That’s the last thing you should do! Christ!”
They got dressed in a hurry, then eyed each other up and down to confirm they didn’t look like two men who’d just fucked each other’s brains out.
When they heard the muffled sound of someone knocking on the front door, they exchanged identical looks of terror.
“Here goes,” Aidan mumbled.
“This is not going to be good,” Dylan mumbled back.
They walked to the front hall together. Might as well show some solidarity, Dylan thought. And they did make an imposing picture standing side by side like that. Maybe that would make Claire’s father think twice before murdering them.
Taking a breath, Dylan opened the door.
The man on the other side of it scowled at them. “I’m Ron McKinley,” he muttered. “Where’s my daughter?”
“She went out for groceries,” Dylan said politely. “And we met in December, sir.” He gulped. “At the wedding. I’m Chris’s brother, Dylan.”
He stuck out his hand.
Ron McKinley did not shake it.
Masking his disappointment, Dylan gestured for the older man to enter.
Ron’s expression conveyed great distrust as he examined his surroundings. He had his daughter’s brown eyes, along with that same shrewd glint Claire got whenever she was assessing a situation before passing judgment. His hair was a different color, dark blond rather than red, and though he wasn’t as tall as Dylan’s six-foot-two frame, he was an inch taller than Aidan’s five-eleven.
“I’m Aidan Rhodes. Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Aidan didn’t bother offering his hand, because they all knew damn well Ron McKinley wouldn’t shake that one, either.
“Have a seat,” Dylan said when they entered the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
Ron regarded the leather couches as if they might be covered with ants, then sat down and stiffly crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t overweight, but he was definitely bulky, boasting one of those barrel chests that radiated power.
“Drink?” he prompted when the older man didn’t answer.
“No, thank you.”
Dylan and Aidan exchanged a what now? look, then settled on opposite
ends of the couch Claire’s dad wasn’t sitting on. Because no way was Dylan getting close to the man. He valued his own life way too much to do something so foolish.
“How long is my daughter going to be?” Ron asked curtly.
“She should be back any minute. In fact—” Aidan hastily grabbed his cell from the coffee table, “—why don’t I just give her a call and see what her ETA is.”
A few seconds later, Aidan spoke in an overly bright voice that made Dylan choke down a laugh.
“Hey, sweetheart, just wondering how much longer you’ll be… Oh, you’re pulling into the underground? Super.”
Dylan’s lips twitched uncontrollably. Super? Aidan was rattled, all right.
“No, no, everything’s fine. We do have a visitor, though…no, not them… Your father’s here.” Aidan listened for a beat, then hung up and addressed Claire’s dad. “She’ll be right up.”
Chapter Nineteen
Claire flew into the living room, then skidded to a stop like a cartoon character right out of Looney Tunes. She’d desperately hoped the boys were messing with her, only pretending that her father was here, but nope, not messing around. Because there he was, her father, sitting on the couch with an expression of extreme misery on his face.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
Her father’s brown eyes shifted toward the men, then back at her. “Can we speak in private?”
Dylan and Aidan were already shooting to their feet.
“No problem,” Aidan said hastily.
“Take your time,” Dylan chimed in.
And then they were gone.
Claire would’ve laughed at their eagerness to flee if she weren’t so confused by her father’s presence. Rather than join him on the couch, she kept a cautious distance by settling in the armchair. “What’s going on?” she asked softly.
“Your mother kicked me out.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
His unhappiness deepened. “She threw me out of my own house—can you believe that?”
“Why would she do that? Did you two get into a fight?”
“All we’ve been doing for the last three months is fighting,” he said darkly.
