by R. Cayden
Malcolm choked on his water, then took another gulp to recover.
I leaned forward on the table. “I don’t think you could handle a night in my bed,” I said, dropping my voice so it came out like a growl.
Gunner licked his lips, meeting my eyes.
Maybe he’s not as easy to rattle as he seems.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine anywhere,” Malcolm said, breaking through the loaded silence with his anxious voice. “It should be warmer tonight, too.”
“Yeah, Maddox,” Gunner said. “Let’s make it a hot one.”
I pointed my fork at Malcolm, changing the subject and leaving Gunner hanging. “Can you tell me more about your housing situation?” I asked. “I’m curious. I’ve had to deal with a few shitty landlords myself.”
I didn’t mean to put Malcolm in an awkward spot by asking him for information and withholding what I knew. I just knew it was safer to keep things quiet. I was curious to hear more about my uncle’s business and might even have been able to offer Malcolm some good advice. If he knew I was related to the Richter family, though, he would probably clam up, scared to offend me or say something wrong.
Malcolm nodded. “There’s not much to say, really. I moved into the building when it was managed by a different company, but then they had a string of bad luck and had to sell the building. Richter Properties purchased it, and about a year later, they started trying to drive the tenants out. I never see the actual people who own the place, though. They just send random guys in cheap suits over to deliver letters and stress us all out.”
I nodded, imagining that some of those guys in cheap suits were my distant cousins. It sounded like just the kind of project my uncle went for. There was no ambition to it, no grand design or bigger purpose. He’d just found a building he could exploit to make some cash and used all his muscle and dirty tricks to do it.
People like my uncle felt big and powerful, but I knew they weren’t. They were small and petty, and as long as he was taking advantage of guys like Malcolm, that was all he would ever be.
“You tried complaining to your city council person?” I asked. “And to the different organizations that oversee real estate?”
“I did,” Malcolm said. “And trust me, I was thorough about it. But I got nowhere. Why? Do you have any ideas of what I should do?”
I shook my head. Ten years ago, I might have come up with some risky idea, but I wasn’t about to put myself back in harm’s way, and I had no intention of leading Malcolm and Gunner toward danger. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” I said.
Gunner finished off his plate, and I did the same with mine, twirling up the last of the pasta on my fork. Immediately, Malcolm jumped to his feet and began to gather the dishes to clean up.
I glanced at Gunner, but he stayed sitting on his stool.
I coughed. “You cleaned up the last meal,” I said to Malcolm. “Why don’t you leave that?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t mind!” he said brightly. “I kind of like cleaning.”
I looked over at Gunner again. When he looked back my way, I held his stare. “Rest,” I said, making my voice slow and clear. “Someone else can get the dishes.”
Gunner blinked, and my message finally sunk in. Standing up, he grabbed the pasta bowl and headed to the sink. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh, thanks!” Malcolm said, dropping the dishes to the counter.
Good job, Gunner, I thought. It might have taken him a second to do the right thing, but if he was going to be acting all tough to impress Malcolm, he needed to start taking care of him, too.
Malcolm returned to the counter, leaning against it awkwardly. Without Gunner by his side, he looked a little more intimidated by me, almost like he was shrinking into himself. I gave him a smile, knowing he must have felt at least a little trapped in the house, and he seemed to relax slightly.
“I’ll go throw the clothes in the washer,” I said. “Once dinner is cleaned up, why don’t you two join me on the porch? I might even give you a taste of my wine.”
Malcolm bit down on his bottom lip and averted his eyes toward the ground. When he looked back up, he blinked. “Sure,” he said. “That sounds nice.”
I winked, and his eyes got wide in response. “It sure does,” I said.
Chapter Eighteen
Gunner
With my hands in the soapy water, Malcolm squeezed up behind me. “You have to stop flirting with him,” he whispered in my ear. “What if he gets upset about it?”
“Did he look upset about it?” I asked. “He’s eating up the attention. I can tell.”
Malcolm took a couple of dishes out of the rack, drying them and returning them to shelves. “I really hope they clear the road in the morning.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, although I knew it was at least half a lie. With the weekend off between jobs, I didn’t really have much to do back in Seattle. Most weekdays, I just got home and collapsed, exhausted from work. Sometimes, my friend Laura would come over, and the two of us would smoke a joint and shoot the shit. She used to live next door, but after she moved away, she kept coming by. Outside of that, though, I didn’t get up to much except for going to the bar with the guys from work every now and then. Even then, we didn’t do much but sit, drink, and stare at each other.
I finished up the dishes. When Malcolm smiled at me, taking the last fork from my hand, I realized I was glad to have done the chore. “Let’s go on the porch,” I said. “I want Maddox to give me some of that wine.”
I instinctively pulled out my pack of smokes but saw that there were only two left. Shoving it back in my pocket, I grabbed Malcolm’s elbow instead.
Outside, I could see the stars, full and bright above us now that the clouds had passed. Maddox was sitting on an old couch, drinking his wine and staring over the yard. I saw that the light above the workshop was on. Some of the sculptures glinted with its reflection.
He looked so damn handsome sitting there, with his chiseled jaw and his swoop of black hair, speckled with gray. He wore his tattoos well, and with a T-shirt clinging to his muscles, I could see the intricate work on the sleeve of ink that covered his arm.
“How about that wine?” I asked.
“Go ahead, have a bit.”
I picked up the bottle, swigging directly from it, then handed it to Malcolm. He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the cups sitting on the table, and poured himself a splash. “Sit with me on the swing,” he said, grabbing my hand.
The porch swing was sideways to the couch, and when we sat down together, the view of the mountains opened up before our eyes.
“Careful not to rock that swing too much,” Maddox said, winking at me. “Old chains.”
My stomach tightened, and I felt flushed. Was he flirting with me?
I threw my arm over Malcolm’s shoulder, glad to feel like he was my guy for a minute. “Do you ever race your motorcycle?” I asked Maddox.
He scoffed. “Racing isn’t my poison,” he said. “Anyway, that bike takes me a lot of places. I try to treat her right.”
“You must have raced it at least once,” I said, not believing his modest attitude. I saw the tattoo of the motorcycle on his arm, and it did not look like a friendly old steed. It looked like it was exploding forward and flying off his body. “Or taken it up to full speed. Aren’t you curious how fast it can go?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “With this bike? No. With my last bike, though…”
Malcolm perked up beside me. “What happened with your last bike?”
“More like what happened to my last bike.”
“What?” I asked. “You wreck it?”
“In a ball of flames,” he said. “Swear to god.”
“No way,” I said, reaching out to grab the wine from the table. I took another swig, then rested the bottle on my leg. “If the motorcycle went up in a ball of flames, you wouldn’t have made it.”
“I jumped off,” h
e said, shrugging. “I was a little rougher for the landing, but I made it.”
“What happened?” Malcolm asked.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” he said. “And it had nothing to do with racing the bike or seeing how fast it could go, believe me. I was speeding that thing, but it wasn’t because I wanted to. I had a guy on my tail, and he was out of his fucking mind, waving a gun through his car window and screaming to all hell.”
“Who was it?” I asked.
“A man who thought I had stolen a briefcase full of cocaine from him.” He shook his head, almost laughing about it. “Which I hadn’t,” he clarified. “I don’t touch that stuff. it’s all dirty money. Once I realized I couldn’t lose him, I tried to take a sharp turn and started to lose control of the bike. We were on the outskirts of the city, and I managed to angle it toward an empty lot instead of careening into a tree or a car. That guy was hot behind me, and when he shot at me with his handgun, I had to dive off the bike to dodge the bullet.”
Maddox shook his head, and I saw a flare across his eyes. It was like he was lighting up at the memory, even though it must have been terrifying. I could understand. I was getting hot and hard just from listening to it.
“What does this guy do next?” Maddox asked, picking the story back up. “He jumps out of his car, still waving his gun in the air. Then he pops his trunk and yanks out a gallon of gasoline. Still screaming his ass of about me being a thief, he dumps it all over my bike, flicks his Zippo, and tosses the flame straight at my ride while he walks away.”
“Ball of flame,” I said. “Holy shit.”
“Blew up like you wouldn’t believe. I had to dive to the ground and run away. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my head, and he is, too! But I tell you what, I felt those flames against my cheek for weeks after.”
I pulled Malcolm a little closer, feeling his warmth against my side. He looked pretty damn cute in Maddox’s flannel, and it made me want to rub up all over him. “That must have looked amazing,” I said.
“It was pretty fucking cool,” Maddox agreed, chuckling. “But that’s not the reason I’m telling you the story. You know why I am?”
I glanced at Malcolm out of the corner of my eye, and then we both shook our heads.
“I’m telling you that story because the guy who went speeding down the street, waving his gun in the air? He liked to race motorcycles. He liked to do every foolish, selfish, impulsive thing he could think of. It’s a miracle we both made it through that afternoon without getting arrested or killed.” He leaned back against the couch again. “Guys like that aren’t cool,” he said, his voice suddenly softer, almost kind. “They’re the maniacs in someone else’s story. And while I’m still here, I would guess he’s not doing quite as well.”
I swallowed, hearing the core of his lesson despite myself. Still, I didn’t like getting lectured like that in front of Malcolm. “So no motorcycle racing,” I said. “I got you.”
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse that day,” Malcolm added.
Maddox shrugged, taking a drink from his wine. An owl called out across the forest, its hoot echoing in the mountains. “I’ve had a lot of luck,” he said.
“Me, too,” I said, pulling Malcolm a little closer to me. “Although I could always use a little more.”
Maddox chuckled, and Malcolm draped his hand over my leg. “I’m sure everyone could use a little more luck,” Maddox said.
I turned to Malcolm and saw the quivering look on his face. His gaze turned from Maddox to me, but the look in his eyes stayed the same. His pupils were almost watery with need, and when I glanced down, I saw that he was rock hard.
I didn’t know if it was from Maddox’s story or just from being so close to me. Probably it was from both of us and the way we were each eating him with our gaze. When I saw that need in his eyes, though, all I cared about what getting Malcolm what he wanted.
I turned and brushed my thumb over Malcolm’s lips, earning a shiver in response. “You feeling lucky, Malcolm?” I asked.
Malcolm sputtered. “Gunner,” he finally managed, his voice soft. “Maddox doesn’t want to watch us flirt.”
I turned back to Maddox. “I don’t know if that’s true. You must think we’re pretty sexy. Don’t you, Maddox?”
Maddox let his hand fall between his thighs. “I know you think you’re pretty sexy,” he said. “Although it’s not really about looks.”
I kept my thumb next to Malcolm’s lips, and he leaned his head forward, pressing his teeth down on my nail lightly.
“What’s it about then?” I asked.
Maddox squinted a little back at me, still smiling. “It’s about what you do. How you treat a person.” He paused, returning his eyes to Malcolm. “It’s about how you touch someone.”
Malcolm bit down harder on my thumb, whimpering quietly to himself.
I let Malcolm take my thumb further into his mouth, sucking on it almost like it was giving him comfort. “I know how to give a guy what he wants,” I said, then turned my face, kissing softly at Malcolm’s neck. “Don’t I?”
Malcolm nodded quickly, but his eyes were straight on Maddox. It was like he was scared of what Maddox was thinking.
But I wasn’t worried. I knew exactly what was going through his mind. His thick cock was rock hard in those tight jeans he liked to wear, and he was giving us the eye.
“Then what do you want, Malcolm?” Maddox asked, spreading his legs a little further.
Malcolm’s sucked in a breath. “What do I want?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, still kissing at his neck. The more I played with him, the more turned on I was getting by the idea of Maddox watching us. It felt almost like putting on a show for him, and I had a lot I wanted to show. “Tell us what you want, my prince.”
MALCOLM
The second Gunner’s thumb landed against my lips, I melted. A tingle shot across my skin, and when Maddox looked me up and down, it was like his hands were all over me, too.
And now they were asking me what I wanted? How was I supposed to answer a question like that?
Because a few days ago, I had no idea I wanted something like this. I wouldn’t have dared to fantasize about two men, toying with me together and pulling me apart piece by quivering piece. But now that I was in trouble, like actually over my head, I wanted it so bad I could taste it.
I curled my tongue around Gunner’s thumb, lowering my head and sucking softly. Bobbing my head gently, I sucked on it, looking up at Maddox the whole time. His face was set, a stern but loving expression on his brow while his hand traced the length of his shaft, bulging in his jeans.
I bit down softly on Gunner’s thumb, then pulled my head back up, placing my hand against his chest. “I want you to fuck me,” I said to Gunner, then turned to Maddox. “And I want you to watch.”
Maddox grinned, rubbing the heel of his hand against his crotch. “Sounds good to me.”
Gunner was grinning from ear to ear. I was so glad to see him happy, I felt my cheeks warm. “Let’s get you ready, my prince,” he said. “I want you good and warmed up.”
I nodded quickly, and Gunner stood up from the porch. Flashing his grin to Maddox, he pulled off his shirt and flicked open his jeans, then turned back to me. Bending forward, he took my face in his hands and pulled me into a deep kiss.
When our lips parted, Gunner dropped down to his knees and rubbed his hand up the crotch of my loose work pants. I looked up to Maddox, and when he kept my eye, I felt another wave of pleasure. I nodded as he opened his jeans and bit down on my bottom lip when he pulled his cock out, hard and fat in his hand.
Gunner grabbed the waist of my work pants, yanking them off with the boxers Maddox had leant me. My cock popped in the air, stiff and twitching. Gunner rubbed his fingers up behind my balls as I kicked the pants off, and when he found the tender edge of my hole, I moaned.
The forest spread out around us made me feel oddly safe. There probably wasn’t a person around for miles, and wi
th those two by my side, I felt protected. I didn’t have to be responsible to anyone else or worry about what I said or how I acted. I just had to give myself over to what they offered and let the pleasure that was racking my body take hold.
I jerked my hips as Gunner licked me from my base to my tip, then took my shaft into his mouth. He wrapped his hand around my length, wetting his fingers while he stroked me. By the time he was kissing at my tip and shoving his fingers back against my hole, I was dripping through my slit.
Maddox was working his fist across from us, and when I looked up at him with needy eyes, he nodded. “You’re looking real good, Malcolm,” he said. “Just like that.”
I gasped as Gunner’s fingers pushed past my entrance, stretching the inside of me. Grabbing the back of my thigh, I hitched a leg in the air, and the swing rocked beneath me. I used my free hand to unbutton the flannel, throwing it open. Pushing my backside out, I felt Gunner’s fingers stretching me deeper, entering and retreating with a soft, gentle rhythm.
I matched his motion, and he went back to swallowing my cock, twirling his tongue along my shaft and kissing my tip. When he pushed another finger inside, I felt like I was going to burst with cum, and my cock quivered on the edge. I grabbed at my nipple, pinching it and squeezing it, desperate to feel more.
“Hold on,” I finally managed to sputter. “Hold on.”
Gunner pulled his finger back but kept his hand close to my hole, cradling my butt. He looked up, his eyes flashing brightly.
“I’m ready,” I said. “I’m ready for you.”
Gunner reached down, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and lifting me into his embrace. We stood like that for a minute, kissing with my hard cock pressed between us.
Maddox rose to his feet, tucking his cock into his jeans as he did. “You should use my bedroom,” he said, his voice steady and deep. “This way.”
I let out a surprised laugh when Gunner swooped me off my feet, lifting me in the air like I was the lightest thing in the world. With my legs dangling over his arms, he carried me up the stairs, Maddox’s firm backside bouncing in front of my eyes the entire time.
