by Pam Godwin
Despite the disturbing direction of his thoughts, he found peace in Ricky’s gaze. It wasn’t where Ricky looked that was important. It was where he didn’t look.
Those eyes didn’t slide down Martin’s body, indicating lust. They didn’t stare at his lips, demanding a kiss. They didn’t lower to his groin, signaling a desire to touch.
Ricky stared right at him, into him, wordlessly confessing this was more than sexual desire. Ricky didn’t just want to fuck him. He wanted it all—friendship, love, intimacy, forever.
It was just a look shared between best friends, but it was powerful enough to punch through Martin’s memories, sink past heavily guarded walls, and fuse with the longing he couldn’t hide from Ricky.
This wouldn’t end with a kiss.
He would hurt them beyond repair.
“For fuck’s sake.” Tula leaned in, infusing the air with her sweet, feminine scent. “If you two don’t kiss after staring at each other like that, I’m going to lose all respect for you.”
A delicious shiver slid beneath his skin and froze his lungs. His body might’ve forgotten how to breathe, but it knew exactly how to take what it wanted.
His hand went to Ricky’s nape, a merciless grip that yanked Ricky’s head where he wanted it.
Then he took what belonged to him and devoured Ricky’s mouth.
A vicious fire roared inside Martin, unleashing a dormant need to plunder and consume.
After seven years without sex, he didn’t have any restraint left to ease into a kiss. He hauled Ricky against him and mauled that perfect mouth with sharp teeth and bruising lips.
Ricky opened for him with a guttural groan, and Martin swept his tongue inside, hunting and licking every hidden wet crevice between teeth and cheek.
He’d denied himself too long, but that wasn’t the only reason he felt so reckless and desperate.
Ricky wasn’t just an exceptionally trained kisser. He kissed passionately, feverishly, with every breath, every beat of his heart, and every muscle in his body.
“Sweet Jesus.” Ricky gasped and slipped greedy fingers beneath Martin’s shirt and along his back.
Blood flowed, and muscles trembled beneath the diabolical caress of masculine hands. His hunger rose in a flood of heat, throbbing between his legs and skyrocketing his heart rate.
They pressed closer, chests colliding, arms winding, and bodies entwining as they frantically deepened the kiss. It wasn’t enough.
He hauled Ricky against him and took him down to the mattress, falling atop him in a grinding crush of hips and swollen cocks.
Fucking goddamn, his familiar taste. It was the first time they’d ever kissed, but he recognized the dark, crisp flavor of Ricky’s mouth as if it were his own.
The scent of Ricky’s hot skin seeped into his lungs. The firmness of Ricky’s lips permanently imprinted the moment on his heart. He melted into the sensations, clinging tight to the pleasure as Ricky grunted and thrust beneath him.
“I need you.” Ricky gripped his ass and bit his lips. “Please. Fucking touch me. Hurt me. Put me out of my misery.”
The intensity of that surrender vibrated the muscles beneath Martin’s hands, but the words gave him pause.
Hurt me.
Ricky didn’t know what he was asking.
Gutting memories invaded his senses and coiled his insides into a bloody knot of horror.
How was he supposed to separate the damage he endured with Jeff and Van, the pain Ricky craved, and the hurt he desperately needed to inflict? There were levels of right and wrong, willing and unwilling, and gray areas in between. He didn’t know how to navigate intimacy with one person, let alone two.
All he knew was he didn’t want to stop.
Lashing his tongue wildly against Ricky’s, he indulged in Ricky’s surrender. With his hands fisted in Ricky’s thick black hair, he bit, sucked, and kissed savagely and mindlessly with abandon.
Until nausea hit his stomach.
He pushed away before it became too much, before he lost himself in the past and puked his guts out. Or worse, before he became the monster he feared.
“Tula,” he rasped breathlessly.
She was already there, lips parted, nipples pebbling beneath her shirt, and the burnt umber of her gorgeous eyes glittering around dilated pupils.
“He’s waiting.” He sat beside Ricky, breathing heavily as he tried to reel in the unraveling mess of his thoughts.
He just needed a breather, and she seemed to read that in his expression.
With a nod, she turned to Ricky and said softly, “That was exciting.”
“You liked watching us.” Ricky sat up and lifted her onto his lap, arranging her legs to straddle him.
She shook her head and blinked.
Ricky kissed her, just a tease of lips, before boldly pinching one of her hard nipples. “These don’t lie.”
She batted his hand away and touched her brow to his. “You kissed like you’ve been lovers for years.” She feathered her fingers along his whiskered jaw. “You’re in love with each other.”
The precision of her words zapped every molecule in the air. Ricky felt it, his eyes locking onto Martin’s like beams of energy, holding him stationary in time and space. They emitted a thousand words that didn’t require voice or explanation.
Lines had been crossed.
Boundaries erased.
Everything had changed.
“Thank you.” Ricky touched his lips to hers. Then he did it again. “You opened a door.”
“And now she was walking with demons.” Her mouth twisted. “A quote from The Hellbound Heart.”
Must’ve been one of the books in her cell. Martin wasn’t much of a reader, but the sexy, nerdy, schoolteacher persona she hid from the other prisoners turned him on like nothing else.
“I don’t know that one, but I can give you this.” Ricky cleared his voice and belted out a familiar tune, “Her lips are devil-red, and her skin’s the color mocha. She…will…wear…you…out.”
“Livin’ la Vida Loca.” She threaded her fingers through his hair. “That has me thinking…”
“What’s up, querida?” Ricky trailed his mouth along her jaw.
“There’s no Tula in Ricky Martin.”
“Wanna bet?” He nipped at her throat and met Martin’s eyes. “I’ve fantasied about this for years. I want to watch him with you. I want him to watch you with me. I want the three of us together, joined in every position, fucking and ravaging without hesitation or caution.”
Christ, the way Ricky just threw that out there in his gravelly voice… His confidence was sexy as hell.
“How could you always want that when you just met me?” she asked.
“In my wildest fantasies, the woman between us was faceless.” Ricky inclined his head, edging closer to her lips. “Not anymore.” He cupped his hands around her neck. “God help me, I never imagined you’d be this beautiful. Every time I look at you, it fucking hurts.”
“Ha.” She laughed nervously. “Such a charmer. Men and women everywhere must fall at your feet.”
“Not the ones who matter.” His hands slipped down around her waist, pulling her hips against his.
She leaned back, and her mouth drew into a straight line.
Her reluctance made Martin tense, but he understood it. He wrestled with himself every second he spent with Ricky. Desire battling fear, the present always at war with the past. It was easier to shut down and pull away. It was safer.
Ricky caught his gaze, and in that moment, they shared the same thought.
She didn’t need seduction. She needed compassion, connection, and security—everything he had with Ricky.
Martin rose to his knees and moved in behind her, straddling Ricky’s legs and loosely sandwiching her between them.
“I will never disregard what you’ve been through.” He swept the heavy length of her hair to one shoulder and rested his lips against her graceful neck. “Nor will I abuse the trust you gave
me when you told me about the electrocution and Garra’s assault. You haven’t been touched by a man in two years?”
“No.”
“Any lasting damage from the torture? Anything I need to be concerned about?”
“No, I’m healed.”
She eased a shivery sigh as he kissed a winding path to her upper arm and back again, lingering beneath her ear.
“Tonight, your clothes stay on.” He ran his nose through her hair, breathing in the soft scent that was uniquely her. “No pressure. No expectations. No venturing into places you’re not ready to go.”
“Okay.” She rested her hands on his thighs, where they bracketed her hips.
“Are you ready to experience the best kiss of your life?”
“Good God.” Her fingers dug into the denim on his legs. “How can you top the kiss I just experienced between you two?”
He locked eyes with Ricky over her head. Their gazes hung, tangling and fusing, neither of them moving.
This was just the beginning. Once she got a taste of Ricky, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
It would be a long night of clothes-on torment, but he could handle the kissing. In fact, he couldn’t wait to feel her soft mouth against his.
He didn’t want to fuck this up. If he stayed right here in their space, reaching for Ricky’s gaze, breathing the feminine fragrance of Tula’s hair, their bodies aligned and mouths sealed together, he could do this without losing his shit.
“Tula.” He reached around her and gripped the back of Ricky’s neck. “Give him your mouth.”
Ricky’s body thrummed to life as Tula leaned in and offered her mouth. She did it slowly, with nervous starts and stops, which only made him want her more.
As the sweetness of her breath quivered across his lips, everything inside him went taut with need. But Martin’s hand on his nape reminded him to go slow and keep himself in check.
Dear God, desire looked sinful on her, heating her cheeks and stretching her pupils until her brown eyes turned black.
Her lust-soaked expression was exactly what he wanted to see on a woman before he took her mouth.
With Tula, he started with light teasing sips. Then he sucked faster, more assertively, licking and drinking the hesitation off her soft lips.
“Ricky.” Her hands found his hair, tugging him closer as greedy little noises escaped her throat. “More.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He trapped her in his arms and kissed her harder, opening her hot mouth with his tongue and delving deep.
Martin tightened his grip on Ricky’s neck and lowered his lips to her shoulder. The potency of his presence, the weight of his gaze, the collective sounds of their breaths—all of it coursed blood to Ricky’s groin.
Christ, he loved being watched. Never in a million years did he think Martin would participate in something like this. And the woman in his arms? They couldn’t have found a better match.
She was submissive and fierce, honest yet cautious, and because he was a man, he had the biggest fucking hard-on for her perfect body.
Holding this sexy, exotic creature on his lap, he knew he would never get enough of her.
He savored her with deep-reaching strokes, ravishing her more aggressively, his pulse singing in his veins as flavors exploded in his mouth. Her clean minty taste, the wet warmth of her breaths, and the honeyed essence of her innocence… He gorged himself on everything soft and feminine and sensual about her.
His hands roved over her shirt, memorizing every elusive dip and beautifully toned curve underneath. He wanted to rip away the cotton and bask in the feel of her satiny skin. But she wasn’t ready.
Neither was Martin.
He retreated from the wet heaven of her mouth to steal a glance at his friend.
The emerald facets of Martin’s eyes flickered amid the shadows of their small cell. There was a war going on inside that head, an inferno of want raging against a torrent of pain. Whatever happened to Martin years ago had severely messed him up.
Ricky would give anything to teleport through time and save that boy from the horrors he’d endured.
Maybe he and Martin shouldn’t have kissed, but he didn’t detect a trace of regret in Martin’s gaze. Their friendship was too solid, their bond too tight. No matter where they went from here or how they fit Tula into their relationship, they would only grow stronger together.
The hot little vixen between them shifted on his lap, peeking at him from beneath heavy lashes before turning to Martin.
She licked swollen lips and touched a finger to the deep grooves between Martin’s brows.
Stretching her spine put her mouth a hairsbreadth from his, and she waited there, eyes wide and unblinking, silently offering her vulnerability.
He glanced at Ricky for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips. He pressed in gently, then harder, sliding his wicked tongue through her mouth.
The sight of them melting into each other stole his breath. The weight of their bodies straddling his lap sent feverish tingles across his skin. He hooked an arm around her waist while his other hand traveled over the thick bones and sinewy thews that sculpted Martin’s torso.
His possessive hands remembered Martin’s body on the training mat. The corrugated terrace of abs, ripped biceps, and muscled legs locked around him, slick with sweat, and flexing with domination as they grappled and rolled across the floor. All testosterone, agility, and infinite power contracting and heaving beneath tanned skin.
Martin’s hands had the strength to grab him and pin him to the wrestling mat without mercy. But as he watched Martin with her, he noted the gentleness in every touch, the way those ruthless fingers slipped through her hair and let the tresses fall slowly, strand by strand, as he kissed her at leisure.
They made a tantalizing couple. Martin’s hard jaw gliding against the pixie-shape of her face, their tongues rubbing together and sending soft licking sounds through the room. Panting breaths. Rustling clothes. Pleasure-drenched moans. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed.
Martin held the bulk of his weight off Ricky’s thighs while she sat fully on his lap. With her legs straddling Ricky, she had to twist at the waist to kiss Martin behind her. She felt like a feather on his legs, but she couldn’t have been comfortable.
“Lie down.” Ricky tapped her thigh.
With the beds pushed together, they stretched out across them with Tula in the middle. Martin lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, mirroring Ricky’s position.
A long, deep breath nuzzled between them, silent and content, but there was a slow build in it. It started quietly, stirring the energy in the air.
Inhales chased exhales, the cadence of breaths growing faster, louder. Toes curled against the mattress. Chests rose and fell in tandem, and Martin drifted imperceptibly closer as if he wasn’t aware he was doing it.
Tula’s warm fingers rested against Ricky’s chest. He covered her hand with his, holding her to him, but he didn’t look at her. His gaze was confined by Martin’s stare.
Spiritual closeness lived and breathed through their eye contact. But it was no longer just a platonic connection between friends.
A fire had been kindled, stoked with a brazen kiss. He couldn’t brush it off as a smoldering moment of lust. A cold shower wouldn’t douse this.
Their hunger for each other was a waking volcano that had been burning too deep and too long beneath the surface. It would never die out, never grow cold. Not without total devastation.
Face to face, gazes locked, they held onto each other the way they always had. With their eyes, their history with Van, and the trust they’d forged over the years.
Except now, Ricky needed more.
He needed to hold Martin in his arms and wrap his mouth around Martin’s cock while thrusting deep inside Tula’s body. He needed her right here with them, between them, under them.
“I love the way you look at each other,” she murmured. “It’s like you’re having a who
le conversation without moving your lips, like you’re reading each other’s thoughts.”
“I read his expressions.” Martin traced a finger along the waistband at her hip. “And the way he holds himself. His body language is loud.”
“Is that right?” A smirk pulled at his lips. “What am I thinking?”
Martin angled over her and clutched Ricky’s neck. “You’re choreographing all the positions you would arrange her in while I fuck your ass.”
Sharp, penetrating heat shot along the length of his cock.
“Is that true?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He felt wired and overheated as he studied the dark prisms of her eyes. “Since I don’t know your expressions yet, tell me what you’re thinking. What do you want?”
“This.” A small smile trembled at the corner of her mouth. “Two nice, gorgeous, experienced men who kiss like…” Her lips pouted out with a pushed-out breath. “I don’t even know. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You both have this incredibly magical, mind-numbing way you kiss, like you were born from the same womb or something.” She squinted. “You’re not brothers, are you?”
“No.” Ricky laughed. “That would be awkward.”
“Good, because if you’re asking me what I want…”
“I am.”
“I want to live in your kisses. For the next hour. For the rest of the night. For as long as we’re here. Watching your mouths move together…” Her breath stuttered. “It’s freeing. Makes me forget I’m in prison.”
The electricity in her words fueled the fire inside him. A fire that burned for his best friend.
His gaze lifted, but Martin was already leaning in. Bent over her chest, he grabbed Ricky’s neck and slammed their lips together.
Their tongues met and retreated. Then they clashed again in a possessive duel, whipping and licking and cutting with teeth.
Martin went wild, feeding the flames that roared between them. His fist pulled Ricky’s hair as his tongue thrust frantically, relentlessly, fucking Ricky’s mouth with brutal strokes. Desire rose and swelled, untamed and ravenous.
Then he broke away, his chest heaving, and his face contorted in torment.
