Jamie didn't deny this. He put his hands beneath his head so he could watch while Tuck lowered his dark head over Jamie's groin, taking his ringed cock into his mouth.
It didn't take long for Jamie to near the edge. Tuck had his balls in one hand, his cock deep in his throat. He pulled back only long enough to issue a command. “Come for me."
Jamie did.
* * * *
Dinner had been nice, a romantic affair at an outside café on the bay, the sun setting like liquid gold over the water, Jamie's blue eyes shining in the candlelight wavering on their table.
They'd gone back to Jamie's cottage to make slow, sensual love for several more hours. Jamie was asleep in his bed, a satisfied smile on his lips, but Tuck couldn't sleep. He sat on the porch, listening to the lulling crash of the waves, a glass of red wine in his hand, staring off into the middle distance.
He'd brought out a pad of paper and a pen, with the intention of writing out a To Do list for the following week, hoping this would distract him sufficiently to get his mind off Brendan Aaronson, at least for a while. Brendan, or rather the loss of him, was like losing a tooth, the tongue drawn inexorably to the place that shouldn't be empty, but was.
He'd almost called him a dozen times, after that first and only devastating call, when Brendan had basically denied everything Tuck knew to be true. First pride, then anger, then resignation had all colluded to keep him from trying again. Jamie was right. If Brendan wanted to live in denial, that was his problem, not theirs. They had each other, without the need to lie or pretend.
Tuck had to admit he was falling in love with Jamie. They'd connected on so many levels in the time since they'd been back in California. It was ironic to realize they'd worked in the same building for over a year and had barely exchanged more than a few words prior to the Antarctica adventure. Jamie's excellent research reputation had preceded him, which was why Tuck had recommended him for the project, but socially he'd basically dismissed Jamie as just another pretty boy, too young to be worth noticing.
How wrong he had been. Jamie was the most emotionally honest of the three of them, and the most willing to put himself at risk in matters of the heart. Beneath the dry humor and the sometimes swaggering bad-boy persona, Jamie was a bright, sensitive, romantic man. On top of that, he was sexually insatiable, with a delicious submissive streak Tuck found erotic as hell.
He had Jamie, wasn't that enough?
Let it go, Jamie had wisely advised him. After all, what had they really had with Brendan? A few days of crazed sex did not a relationship make. Why was he wasting his time and energy obsessing about the guy, especially when he'd made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with them?
Maybe Brendan was right—what they'd shared had been nothing more than the acting out of three frightened guys trying to deal with the possibility of being stranded without adequate provisions for the duration of a brutal Antarctic winter.
Brendan had been bi-curious, nothing more. And obviously, that curiosity had been more than satisfied in those few days. Whatever emotional connection Tuck had thought they'd forged, it had apparently been one-sided.
Well, two-sided. And as Jamie had joked, two out of three ain't bad.
It should have been enough. They'd been rescued. He'd been given a clean bill of health after a fall that could have killed him, if the guys hadn't found him before the CO fumes did him in. He'd found a new love in Jamie, one he never expected.
If they'd left with the rest of the research crew, he would have continued to think of Jamie as just another junior researcher at the institute. He would have continued to make the erroneous and unfair assumption that because Jamie was young and good looking, that he was also shallow and boring, and not worth Tuck's time or attention.
Instead he'd found a wonderful lover and companion in Jamie, who wisely advised him to let Brendan and the whole ménage thing go. Jamie was able to move past it, so why couldn't he? What was it about Brendan that wouldn't let him go?
What was it about Brendan that had kept him interested for the entire year after their first meeting up in Washington State? Even then, before he'd tasted his sweet lips or sucked his hard cock, Tuck had felt a deep, abiding, kindred connection with Brendan for which he had no rational explanation or words.
When those gray green eyes fixed on his, Tuck felt as if the world stopped. Time no longer mattered, gravity was irrelevant, life narrowed and focused to just the two of them. Would he never see those eyes again? That sunny, wide smile that made his heart catch? Would he never touch Brendan's sexy, muscular thighs or lick his thick, straight shaft and the warm balls beneath?
Tuck glanced down at his pad. He'd been scrawling words without realizing it. When he saw what he had written, he tore off the page in anger, bunched it into a ball and tossed it over the side of the porch.
The night air was chilling him and he was tired. There was a good, sexy man waiting in bed to take him into his arms. Life was what it was, not what he wished it would be. He would count his blessings and take what was given him. Brendan could go to hell.
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Chapter Thirteen
Brendan unlocked the door to his house, glancing furtively from left to right. He had to laugh at himself. Like anyone gave a shit what he was carrying in the plain brown paper bag. It wasn't illegal, it wasn't even particularly risqué.
Still, it wasn't like him to frequent an adult sex shop. He hadn't ventured into one in years. On his way to work every morning he passed through a seedy neighborhood with a small strip shopping center that included a Chinese takeout place, a discount shoe store, a tobacco shop, two boarded-up storefronts and the Purple Passion Adult Bookstore.
There were perhaps three books in the whole store, but there were plenty of sex toys, including blowup dolls with tight Os for mouths, dildos in a bewildering array of materials and sizes, lubricants in all flavors and colors, candy underpants, gags, whips, handcuffs and an extensive library of X-Rated DVDs and old used videotapes with sticky covers.
He'd found what he was looking for and bought it, glad the cashier, a large, slovenly man in a stained shirt, hadn't made eye contact during the transaction. He was both eager and nervous at the prospect of trying it out. He would have a glass of scotch on the rocks first, to unwind.
Jesus. A date with yourself. Drinks first, then sex. How pathetic you are, Aaronson.
Since Lynn, along with the diet of steady sex she had provided, was no longer in the picture or in his bed, Brendan had begun to have dreams at night. Vivid, darkly erotic dreams in which both Tuck and Jamie loomed large.
He would awaken in a sweat, his hand on his erect cock, his heart thumping. Sometimes the dreams went so far he even awoke to find he'd ejaculated in his sleep. He hadn't had wet dreams since college.
After Lynn had stormed out, he had called her, apologizing for his behavior. She'd forced the issue, demanding that he either commit to their relationship going forward, or call it quits. As gently as he could, he chose the latter option, assuring her the problem wasn't with her, but with himself.
Which was true. Woefully, abysmally true. He found himself no longer fit for the love of a woman, but too unsure and confused to accept the love of a man. Not that that love was being offered any longer. He'd had his chance with Tuck and Jamie. He'd soundly, royally, completely fucked it up.
Too terrified to confront his own unresolved issues and desires, he'd glibly dismissed Tuck when he'd called, condescendingly explaining that what the three of them had shared over the course of a few crazy, wildly intense days had been the stuff of fantasies. It wasn't something that could be sustained back in the real world.
They'd had their fun, now life was supposed to resume as normal. Normal, he thought bitterly. What the fuck is normal?
He'd been fooling himself. The realization was frightening. He had clung to the idea he could will himself into normalcy. That was why he'd let Lynn back into his life in the first place, even while in
the back of his mind he knew it was a mistake. She was to have been his front, the proof he was straight. And for a while he'd actually pulled it off, or so he'd thought, nearly blotting out the crushing melancholy that lingered just below the surface of his so-called normal life.
Once inside the house, he grabbed the bottle of scotch from the liquor cabinet, put ice into a glass and took bottle and glass, along with the paper bag, into the living room. He poured himself several ounces of liquor and drank it down. Setting the bottle and glass on the coffee table, he opened the paper bag and took out the slim black rubber dildo and the tube of KY Jelly inside.
He wanted to know what it felt like. That was all. The dreams, the ones that made him come in his sleep, had invariably included either Tuck or Jamie penetrating him. They had been powerful dreams, filled with both fear and ecstasy.
In the magical way of dreams, he'd been both the giver and the receiver. It was as if he'd had two cocks, the one in his ass and the one in Tuck or Jamie's mouth, depending on the scenario. He could feel their pleasure along with his own. He could feel the hot grip of muscle massaging his cock, tighter than any pussy could be. At the same time, he felt full, filled, fulfilled, when taken by one of his lovers.
His lovers.
He poured a second scotch and drank it quickly, wanting to be drunk, needing to be drunk. Without even bothering to go into the bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his pants and underwear. He leaned back against the sofa, his bare ass making contact with the cool leather.
He hadn't masturbated since the rescue. He knew why now—he was afraid of his own fantasies. Afraid of the images he knew would fill his head when he did. “Admit it. Just fucking admit it, Aaronson. You want them. Both of them. You need them. You are them."
He realized he was talking out loud. Well, so what? He was allowed to talk out loud in his own damn house. He was allowed to shove a dildo up his ass if he felt like it. It didn't make him...
Disgusted with himself, Brendan again spoke to the empty room. “Your problem is labels. You have to assign a name and a rationale to every damn thing. You have to posit a hypothesis and then set about proving or disproving it. Life isn't a fucking science lab. Tuck and Jamie aren't defined by who they love. Why should you be?"
He lifted the bottle of liquor and took a swig, no longer even bothering with the glass. Drinking it reminded him of the three of them, breaking into Gordon's secret stash to stave off their desperation a while longer. Shit, everything reminded him of them in one way or another.
He pulled off his shirt, leaned back and began to pump his cock, pulling it to quick erection. He licked the middle finger of his other hand and reached under himself, lightly rimming his asshole with the tip. It felt good.
He let go of his cock long enough to grab the small tube of lubricant and squeeze some on his fingers. Cock in hand, he again touched his asshole, pushing a finger inside. He added a second finger, finding it slightly uncomfortable but at the same time, highly erotic. He'd watched Tuck do this to Jamie, opening him, readying him for a cock.
He stroked himself a while longer, finally letting the images of Tuck and Jamie, naked and in his arms, at his feet, looming over him with cocks bobbing, scroll through his mind like a silent movie.
Probably the most intense experience had been their last one, cut short by the ringing telephone. It had been incredibly hot to hold Jamie in his arms, their erect cocks colliding while Tuck entered Jamie from behind. Each thrust of Tuck's hips had forced Jamie's cock against his.
When Jamie had come on him, he hadn't been disgusted by another man's semen. On the contrary, he'd nearly come himself from Jamie's warm, wet tongue gliding over his chest and belly, licking away every drop before taking Brendan's rigid cock into his mouth. Jesus God, recalling the two of them, licking, sucking, stroking his cock and balls until he exploded in a frenzy of nearly unbearable pleasure...
Brendan dropped his cock long enough to pick up the dildo from the sofa. With shaking hands he squeezed a generous dollop of KY on its tip and touched it to his nether entrance. Holding his breath, he pressed it into himself. Much slimmer than a real cock, it slid in easily and didn't hurt at all.
He pushed it in farther, taking the length of it before resuming his cock massage. He squeezed his ass cheeks together, imagining it was Tuck inside him, taking him from behind while Jamie worked his incredible magic on his cock.
That summer night the year before whispered through his memory. Tuck leaning against him, murmuring low, so close he could have turned and kissed him. They were alone by the dying fire, exchanging sometimes funny, sometimes painful memories of childhood and teenage angst.
It had felt so good, so right, when Tuck had put his arm around Brendan's shoulder. He'd leaned into him, closing his eyes, wishing Tuck were a woman so they could fall in love. A secret part of him already knew then what he'd spent the next year denying to himself.
He'd fallen in love that night, and never fallen out. But a lifetime of self-control and rigid denial had come to bear as it always had when anything like a real emotion threatened Brendan's careful, controlled world. He'd blotted out the intensity, the utter sweetness and naked longing he'd felt for the other man, tamping it down to something more manageable and less terrifying.
Something in him had clung to his real feelings, enough so he'd managed to get Tuck onto the polar project. Then, in his usual stupid, stolid, self-denying fashion, he'd kept his feelings in check, hiding them from both Tuck and himself until it was too late.
But fate, that's what Tuck had called it and maybe he was right, fate had intervened. The blizzard and all its possible implications had stripped away his defenses, rendering himself vulnerable to Tuck and Jamie's playful sexual games. Rendering him vulnerable to his own closely held secrets, secrets he'd tried to deny since they'd come home.
The dildo was still buried between his ass cheeks. He clenched on it, almost wanting it to hurt, wanting to feel something, anything, to make him feel more connected to the two men he'd shut out of his life.
He stroked his cock, willing his mind to empty. He focused on the sensations—the hard dildo filling him, the friction of his hand moving rapidly over his shaft. Tuck and Jamie, waiting on the edges of his consciousness, slipped into his mind's eye. Tuck crouched behind him, his large, heavy cock held in his hand, its tip nudging between Brendan's cheeks. Jamie cradled Brendan's head in his lap, his thick, hard shaft pressing hotly against Brendan's lips.
He eased into the sofa, clenching his ass as Tuck slipped his hard member into him. He parted his lips to take Jamie's cock deep in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes. Please. I want it. I want you. I want you both."
His fingers flew over his cock in time to the fantasy playing out in his head. When he came, he came hard, gobs of ejaculate landing on his belly and chest, a guttural cry wrenched from his lips. He lay still for several minutes, purposely keeping the dildo clenched inside himself, holding the visions of his all-too-brief lovers in his mind.
He thought about those last intense minutes just before they got the rescue phone call, when Jamie, with Tuck's cock still buried in him from behind, had come all over him and then licked it up. He stared at his bare torso. The semen was dripping down like icing drizzled over coffeecake.
Where was Jamie, he thought with a rueful grin, when he needed him?
Where was Tuck?
He'd thrown away his first real chance at love. He'd thrown it all away because he'd been too afraid to face the truth. And now it was too late. He closed his eyes, letting tears trickle from the corners.
"What have I done?” Brendan's voice cracked in the empty room.
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Chapter Fourteen
Jamie rolled over with a contented sigh. Saturday morning, the whole glorious weekend stretching ahead of them. He smiled as his eyes lighted on the black leather cuffs still dangling from the posts at the head of his bed. They'd found them at a sex boutique
and though it had been his idea, Tuck had been very willing to go along. Tuck had teasingly handled the whips and crops, but Jamie had demurred, not quite ready for that level of play.
Having his wrists bound over his head, with Tuck free to do whatever he wanted, had made the sex even hotter than usual. He closed his eyes, recalling the sweet sting when Tuck had slapped his erect cock. Though Jamie didn't seek out erotic pain for its sake, he found it added an indefinable thrill to the experience.
In between the playful but sharp smacks, Tuck had pulled and stroked Jamie's shaft until the distinction between pleasure and pain had completely blurred into sheer ecstasy. He had come three times last night, each orgasm more intense than the last.
It was super sexy the way Tuck liked to take over sexually. Without Jamie ever having to say a word, Tuck had intuited his sexual nature and asserted a natural dominance that perfectly fit his groove.
He fingered the jeweled snake on the gold chain and smiled. Tuck had talked about maybe getting a tattoo himself, though he hadn't yet decided what he wanted. Having learned the hard way, Jamie had cautioned him to take his time. No names, as he'd foolishly done, because even if a relationship wasn't forever, a tattoo was.
Where was Tuck, anyway? His happiness faded when he remembered he wouldn't be seeing Tuck until Monday night. Tuck had slipped out early that morning, with the plan to drive down to Long Beach in time for his cousin's wedding and spend the weekend. He was going to drive back Monday.
When he'd first mentioned the wedding, Jamie hadn't said anything, waiting to see if he would be invited. Weddings, funerals, any sort of major family function—in Jamie's mind these were a key test of the seriousness of a relationship. Especially a gay relationship, where the partners potentially had something to lose by showing up with another man.
Since they were still relatively new as a couple, he hadn't really expected Tuck to invite him along, nor did he particularly relish the idea of spending his weekend among strangers. Still, he'd found himself inordinately pleased when Tuck asked him if he'd like to go.
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