“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 face, and he was trembling just as hard as he came.
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 phone 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.”
21
Claire flew into the living room, then skidded to a stop like a cartoon character. She’d desperately hoped the boys were messing with her, only pretending that her father was here, but nope, not messing around. 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 gaze 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.
Claire’s heart stopped. “Because of me?”
His silence answered the question, and she experienced a rush of guilt that made her chest hurt. God, her parents were splitting up. Because of her. Because of the choice she’d made, the choice that had apparently torn them apart.
“I had nowhere else to go,” her father mumbled. “You know I can’t sleep in hotels, and your mother and I don’t have many friends, especially any that would take me in. So I got in my car, and…somehow I wound up here.” He looked defensive now. “You emailed me the address after you moved in. I figured that meant it was okay for me…for me to come.”
“Of course it’s okay.”
With a sigh, she moved to sit beside him. After a second of hesitation, she gave him a hug.
To her surprise, he hugged her back.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to come between you and Mom. I’m surprised she even did this. I mean, she’s ignored all of my calls and texts and emails. I thought she was on your side when it came to…we
ll, this whole thing.”
“She was, at first.” Her father’s face grew sad. “But she missed you. And she became resentful, angry at me for pushing you away, and then this morning she just had enough. She told me that unless I fix things with you, she was going to divorce me.”
Claire gawked at him. That didn’t sound at all like her mother. Nora McKinley always took her husband’s side in every argument. Always put her husband first. Always let him take the lead.
That she would give Claire’s dad an ultimatum like this came as a complete and total shock.
“She’s not going to divorce you,” Claire said firmly. “She’s just upset and not thinking clearly at the moment.”
Hope filled his eyes. “Do you really believe that, Claire-Bear?”
Her heart squeezed at the familiar endearment. “I really believe it. And if you want my advice, I’d give her a few days to calm down. I’m sure you two will be able to work it out. You love each other and you’ve been together for more than thirty years, for Pete’s sake. Your marriage is strong, Daddy. So strong it can withstand anything, even your daughter’s unconventional love life.”
Her father hesitated. “Can I stay with you until I…until your mother and I… Can I stay here?”
She met his gaze head on. “I don’t live alone, Dad. This is Dylan and Aidan’s home too.”
He shifted in discomfort. “I know.”
“I won’t ask either of them to leave while you’re here.”
“I know,” he said again.
She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re okay with that?”
Her father let out a tired breath. “I guess I’m going to have to be.”
Day One
Aidan strode into the kitchen on Saturday morning, then halted in his tracks when he spotted Claire’s father at the counter, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper.
Damn it. He’d been hoping yesterday’s surprise visit had been a bad dream, that really, Ron McKinley was back in San Francisco, passing judgment on his daughter’s relationships from afar.
But it wasn’t a dream.
Claire’s father was here.
Claire’s father was their houseguest.
Fucking hell.
“Good morning,” Aidan said politely, grabbing a mug from the cupboard.
“Good morning,” Ron answered in a tone that more than conveyed his disapproval.
“Did you sleep well?”
He damn well better have, considering his presence had completely disrupted their sleeping arrangements. Although Claire refused to apologize for loving two men, she was still that same girl who’d hidden her wild streak growing up, and she claimed she didn’t feel right sleeping in the same bed as them when her father was in the condo. So as long as Ron was here, Claire had decreed that Aidan stay in the master bedroom, her father would get Dylan’s room, she’d sleep on the pullout couch in the office, and Dylan was relegated to the living room.
It fucking sucked. Even more so because Claire had also decided that having sex while under the same roof as her father was, as she put it, icky.
And having a threesome was apparently even ickier.
Aidan was praying Claire’s mom took some pity on Mr. McKinley and let him come home soon, because he wasn’t sure how long he could last living under these restrictive conditions. But for Claire’s sake, he was willing to suck it up. At least long enough for her to repair her relationship with her dad.
“I slept very well, thank you,” Ron said stiffly.
“Glad to hear it,” Aidan replied.
An awkward silence fell between them.
Ron cleared his throat. “Where’s the other one?”
Aidan didn’t need to ask for clarification. “He works out on the beach every morning.”
“Huh.”
“He’s a SEAL,” Aidan felt obligated to add. “He needs to stay in shape for his line of work. You know, saving the world and all.”
He could have sworn he glimpsed a flicker of approval in Ron’s eyes, but then the man buried his nose in his newspaper and proceeded to pretend Aidan wasn’t in the room.
With a sigh, he poured himself a cup of coffee and left the kitchen.
Day Two
“Holy shitballs! Did you see that touchdown pass?” Dylan let out a loud whistle.
“That was a thing of beauty,” Aidan agreed.
Neither of them asked the man on the other couch what he’d thought of the pass; Ron McKinley had been ignoring them for the past hour and a half, his face hidden by the Sunday paper. The only indication he was even in the room was the sound of newsprint crinkling every time he flipped the page.
Dylan had never felt so uncomfortable in his life, and he resented the fact that Claire’s father was making him feel this way in his own home. This was the place where Dylan was supposed to kick back and relax, but these last two days he’d wanted to be anywhere but here.
For Claire’s sake, he was playing nice with her dad, but damn, winning that man over was next to impossible. Dylan doubted there was anything he and Aidan could do to change Ron McKinley’s opinion about the two men his daughter had committed herself to.
Claire, who was curled up in the armchair with an afghan drawn over her legs, rolled her eyes. “I still don’t get why we’re watching old games that you recorded.”
“Because it’s Sunday,” Dylan retorted. “And we watch football on Sundays.”
“But the season’s over.”
“There’s no such thing as an off-season when it comes to football,” he said gravely. “Jeez, honey, and you call yourself a fan.”
A loud snort of amusement cut through the air.
Everyone swiveled their heads in Ron’s direction, but he was innocently reading his newspaper again.
Day Three
“So you’re really going to do this? Start your own business?”
Claire met her father’s serious eyes. “I’m really going to do it.”
The two of them were sitting out on the terrace, the remnants of their dinner littering the large glass table. Aidan had dropped off some takeout for them because he and Dylan were having dinner at Cash and Matt’s place tonight, and the thoughtful gesture had warmed Claire’s heart. Before he’d left, Aidan had dropped a quick kiss on her lips and told her he hadn’t wanted her to spend the evening slaving over a stove when she could be spending time with her father.
She knew her dad had overheard that, and she could have sworn she’d seen him nod in approval before his expression grew shuttered.
“Do you have a business plan yet?”
Her father’s brisk inquiry interrupted her thoughts. “That’s what I’ve been working on for the last couple of months,” she told him. “But I think I’m finally ready to make this happen.”
“Why don’t the two of us go over the business plan tonight?” Her dad’s voice turned gruff. “That is, if you don’t have plans with…uh, your men.”
She hid her surprise. This was the first time he’d even acknowledged there were two men living here, let alone her men.
And this time, when he’d uttered those two words, he’d done it without any scorn.
Day Four
If he didn’t have sex with either Claire or Aidan soon, Dylan was going to fucking explode.
Day Five
“I’m serious, Mom, he’s been so great this week,” Claire said, balancing her phone on her shoulder as she tried to grab a bowl from the top cupboard. “I really think it’s time for the two of you to talk this out.”
Aidan came up behind her and intercepted her straining hand. He planted a quick kiss on her knuckles before reaching up and getting her a bowl.
With a look of gratitude, she headed to the counter and poured herself some cereal, feeling her father’s anxious eyes on her as she continued to talk him up to her mom.
And the bitch of it was? She wasn’t even lying. Her father had been great this week. She couldn’t say he’d completely warmed up to the men she l
oved, but at least he wasn’t looking at them like he wanted to skin them alive anymore.
Definitely progress.
Day Six
“I’m dying here, man.” Aidan lit up a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.
Dylan shook his head in disapproval. “What are you doing? You only smoke when you drink.”
“Or when I’m so fucking horny I feel like my balls are going to fall off. I jerked off in the shower three times this morning. Three!” Aidan said in disgust.
“Me too.”
They exchanged a look and grinned.
But both grins faded fast.
“We need to get him out of here,” Dylan said grimly. Then he paused. “Though that’s not to say I dislike him. If I’m being honest, I kinda like the old grump.”
Aidan’s reply was grudging. “Me too.”
“He’s a damn good poker player.” His gaze drifted past the terrace door to the dining room, where Claire’s father was shuffling a deck of cards like a professional card sharp. Dylan hadn’t been kidding, though—Claire’s dad really was growing on him.
“That’s because he’s an accountant. I bet he counts the cards.”
“You think?”
“You boys buying back in or what?” Ron McKinley’s smug voice wafted through the open sliding door and onto the terrace.
Dylan sighed. “Let’s go lose some more money.”
“Gee, can’t wait.”
Day Seven
“It was nice of Dylan and Aidan to treat us to dinner tonight.”
Claire knew it took a lot out of her father to say that, and a lot more for him to actually say their names instead of “your men”.
She had to admit, “her men” might have actually done it. Officially won Ron McKinley over.
Then again, when you made reservations at the best steakhouse in the city for a man who loved steaks more than life itself, you had a solid chance for success.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 55
