by Cari Quinn
He inched forward, cursed and dropped back his head as sweat trickled into his eyes. His skin burned from the inferno inside him. Drake’s tight passage beckoned, drawing him deeper, forcing him to shove past the initial resistance. He shouted at the first clamp around him, and slammed a hand into Drake’s back to hold him down.
All it would take was a twitch and he’d be coming like a damn geyser.
He drew back and thrust in again with growing steadiness, finding his rhythm at the same time as he forced Drake to accept exactly what he gave him. Slow strokes at first, speeding up, becoming faster and deeper.
So goddamn deep.
The leash inside him snapped. His control gone, Colt grabbed his best friend’s hips and pounded into him, bruising his skin. Digging welts. His fingers burrowed into flesh just like his cock tunneled into his ass, invading him as he’d been invaded. There could be no escape. Not for either of them.
Drake’s muffled moan drew his gaze back to his friend’s arm and the now blood-tinged cuts there. He’d bitten himself hard enough to bleed. He quaked beneath Colt, his skin a deep red beneath his tan. Somehow Colt reached around Drake to grab his cock where it was pressed into the mattress. He jerked it in rough pulls as he kept up the tempo in his ass, slamming into him again and again until he couldn’t keep from twisting his hand brutally hard around Drake’s cock. He came at once, roaring out his release, the hot, sticky splash against his palm triggering his own climax.
“Fuck.” He buried his shout in Drake’s shoulder and squeezed his buddy’s dick, pumping out every last drop while his hips hammered his hole and he emptied himself into the condom.
His orgasm didn’t stop. Pulse after pulse, he just kept coming. Filling up the damn condom until he had to let go of Drake’s spent cock and grab the latex tight around the base of his shaft or they’d have had a hell of a mess on their hands.
He pulled out and took off the condom with his slick fingers. More of a mess than he already had.
Grabbing a tissue, he cleaned up as best as he could and sprawled on the bed beside Drake. He couldn’t have walked out of that room yet if he wanted to. His legs were shaking too badly to hold him up.
Everything was still shaking.
Eyes closed, he didn’t move as Drake rolled closer. He tensed, unable to talk. There weren’t any words in him to describe this.
Soft lips skated over his shoulder and along his collarbone and he nearly sighed before he caught himself. Comfort came in all kinds of forms. He didn’t know how to take this, or where it slotted into all the safe boxes he’d created in his mind to explain away what he didn’t understand.
Sex with Paige was okay, more than. Sex between all three of them, perfect. Beyond compare. Sex with him and Paige and Paige and Drake, just dandy.
But this…this didn’t have a category. The box labeled Drake had blown wide open and he didn’t know how to close it again.
He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. Jesus, he smelled like Drake. His spicy cologne, his sweat, his release. He’d wanted to imprint himself on him? Fuck that. Drake had soaked into his freaking pores.
Behind him, still sprawled on the bed, Drake blew out a breath. “I knew you would do this.”
Colt gritted his teeth. “Do what?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re walling off. Again. Just like you do every time something is too much for you. You ignore it and you run.”
He was on his feet and searching for his clothes before the impulse even registered. “You think you know me so well.”
“Don’t I?” Drake didn’t sound angry. Just tired.
As if he’d expected exactly this, as he’d said.
Colt couldn’t get his boxers and jeans back on fast enough. He needed a shower but there wasn’t time. He’d left a student in the midst of a lesson, for God’s sake. As usual his sexual needs rose above everything else. Just like people always said about him.
Changed? Yeah, right.
He tugged on his boots and his shirt, pulling it down before heading for the door.
“Colt, dammit, wait.”
“Why?” He opened the door and grabbed the doorframe above his head, using it to keep him in place when all he wanted was to get to the hell out of there. If he turned and saw judgment in Drake’s eyes, he didn’t think he could stomach it.
Mostly because he knew he deserved it. But Jesus, how could he have known what it would be like? Not something he could just do and forget. Not the occasional romp in the midst of what they did with Paige. It had been so much more than that. He wished she’d been there too, to be part of it with them. That was the way it was supposed to be.
“You wanted this. You enjoyed it, every bit as much as I did.”
He shut his eyes and said nothing.
“If this is about Paige, she wouldn’t have a problem with—”
“She should’ve been here.”
Drake chuckled softly, though the sound held little humor. “I agree, but I’m pretty sure not for the same reason. I want her here because she completes us, just as I hope we complete her. Not so it’s safe for you to admit who you are.”
Colt turned around. “What the fuck are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re bisexual, just like I am.” Drake got right in his face and jabbed a finger in his chest. “And you won’t fucking admit it.”
“How can I be bisexual when I’ve never ever even looked at a man other than you in a sexual way? You’re the only one.”
Drake’s hand fell to his side and he swallowed hard. “No one else?”
“No. Never.” Colt pressed his fingers into his eyes. “I have to get back to work.”
“Colt, c’mon, let’s talk about—”
Colt headed down the hall. “There’s nothing to talk about. Paige should’ve been here.”
“You’ve kissed Paige when I wasn’t around. You’ll probably have sex with her too, and I wouldn’t mind.”
Colt stopped walking. “It’s different.”
“Why?” Drake followed him up the hallway. “Why is it any different? You care about her. Maybe even love her. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
Colt didn’t respond. The wires tightening around his throat wouldn’t allow him to.
“And I know you care about me,” he continued. “Maybe even…maybe even lo—”
“No,” Colt choked out. “I’ve heard enough. I’ve done enough. I’m going back to work.”
This time, Drake just let him go.
Again.
He rushed downstairs to the bathroom to clean up, then headed outside. He walked out into the bright sunshine, shading his eyes from the glare, wondering how so much could’ve changed in a few minutes.
Rita was waiting for him at the bottom of the porch steps, her smile sickly sweet. “I wondered where y’all got to.” Her eyes narrowed, and he thought he saw something slip through her gaze. Suspicion. More. “I heard Drake’s voice, then you both disappeared.”
He had to fight the urge to check his fly. Christ, had he zipped up? Even worse—had she come to the back door and seen him kiss Drake?
If she had, everyone would know soon enough. There would be no keeping it under wraps, unless he put a stop to everything. Right now.
“Sorry, we had some urgent business.” Spotting Jenny, he strode away from her mother.
Once was enough. He’d gotten it out of his system. Now everything would be fine.
Except Paige. What the hell could he do about Paige? She wouldn’t want to see him on her own most likely, and he would never make her choose. But he couldn’t keep playing these games with Drake. Though he wasn’t interested in the same kind of arrangement Drake was—wouldn’t allow himself to be—he didn’t want to hurt him any more than necessary.
A quick, clean break would be best for all of them. They’d had some fun and made some great memories and now life would go back to normal.
He’d still be the same Colt Bennett he’d always be
en.
12
Drake sat beside Paige in the stands at the football field and feigned interest in the game taking place on the field down below. They’d made plans to attend the Homecoming game together last week, long before the implosion in his bedroom. He’d nearly begged off, citing work, but he’d feared Colt would freeze out Paige like he’d done with him for the last two days and he hadn’t wanted her to deal with that alone. It was his fault, after all. He’d known he was pushing Colt too far. But every time he’d seemed to roll with the punches, and Drake had begun to think that maybe he could handle what was happening.
Maybe he’d finally taken off the blinders.
But no, that had just been a delayed reaction or something, because he’d snapped back into his regular lockdown mode right afterward. Kissing him after they’d had sex had probably been a mistake. Trying to talk to him definitely had been. Colt had just looked so damn…lost. What kind of friend was Drake if he didn’t even try to make things better?
“Are either of you even watching this game?” Paige frowned and gestured toward the field. “The Titans are killing the other team and you’re not even cheering.”
“Sorry,” he and Colt said at once.
“Don’t apologize to me. We’re supposed to be here to celebrate Coach tonight. You know, pump up the crowd before the halftime ceremony—”
“Speaking of halftime, I’m needed down there.” Colt unfolded his long legs and stood. “Catch you guys later.”
Paige stared after him, her expression wistful. She was still doing better than Drake, because he couldn’t even stand to watch him go.
“All right. What happened?”
Drake stared straight ahead, trying to focus on the game. He loved football, and the Titans might actually bring the championship home again this year. Then there was the fact that Paige was cuddled against his side, her thigh pressed to his. If he hadn’t been all tied up with the Colt crap, he would’ve been enjoying himself.
Too bad ifs, ands or buts didn’t mean shit.
“Not sure what you mean. Do you need me to explain the last play?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pointed at the Titans’ quarterback. “See, that right there is what we call a football. He’s going to throw it and—”
“Ass.” She laughed and elbowed him in the stomach. “I’ve been watching football with my daddy since I was six. I know what’s what.”
He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, revealed by her strapless dress. “Forgive me for ever doubting you.”
“Hmm. Maybe. We’ll see.” She cupped his cheek and kissed him openly, her lips molding to his as if they’d been kissing for a lifetime instead of just a few weeks. Her tongue curled around his and she slid her hand up his chest, taking him from interested to hard in a nanosecond.
See, this was the way it should be. Paige wasn’t ashamed to be with him out in the open. She wasn’t ashamed to be with Colt either. She was so much stronger than either of them.
She deserved more than they were giving her right now, that was for damn sure.
He eased back as the game raced toward halftime. She snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. For this moment, she was content.
It wouldn’t last long. He’d only be able to cover up Colt’s odd behavior for so long.
They’d already missed two nights with her, which he’d managed to dismiss as being due to long days at work. She’d been busy too and had seemed surprisingly okay with the distance. She’d almost seemed resigned about it. He wanted to reassure her, but how could he when he didn’t know what Colt was thinking himself? She’d been her usual cheerful, unflappable self when they’d picked her up tonight, and she’d chattered through any break in the conversation—of which there had been many, because Colt was doing his best silent stoic routine—but her eyes were pinched. She knew something was up. She just didn’t want to face it.
Seemed to be his lot in his life to fall for two people who refused to see the truth in front of their faces.
In Paige’s case, she wanted to believe so badly that they were okay that she refused to rock the boat. In Colt’s, he was determined to believe they’d just had a three-way fling, and he could go back to the way things were before. Oh, he hadn’t said the words. But Drake knew how his pigheaded brain worked. He’d done the same thing before, with Beth. Colt would have more trouble writing them off this time, because this situation was nothing like that one. He hadn’t been halfway or more in love with Beth, as he was with Paige. And he hadn’t been so close to finally acknowledging he had feelings for Drake too.
Fat chance there.
He sighed and held her tighter as whistles sounded, marking the end of the second quarter and the beginning of the special presentation to honor Coach’s contributions to Quinn football. The announcer told the crowd to direct their attention to the field as teammates from the old championship team all those years ago lined up in Coach’s honor.
Drake studied Colt standing so tall beside Joel, Tucker, Jackson, and Charlene’s brother Rafe. Lorelie, Coach’s daughter, stood near them as well, and she was clearly about to explode with pride. One by one, the old teammates were called forward to accompanying roars from the stands, fistbumping each other as they walked down the line. When it was Colt’s turn to be called, Paige stood up and wolf-whistled, jumping around so much that Drake had to laugh as he grabbed her hips to make sure she didn’t fall.
“Get up here,” she insisted, tugging Drake to his feet. He cheered too, though he felt like a fraud and an asshole.
Colt deserved the applause. That wasn’t it. But the guy was more than likely about to kick him out of his bed and maybe his life. Did he really have any right to cheer on his success?
After the introductions had been completed, Coach Carr was called to the center of the field. Lorelie walked with him toward the superintendent of the school system and the Quinn High School principal. Coach’s list of accomplishments was impressive, each one more noteworthy than the last. Though Drake only knew him through Colt, he’d heard lots of stories about how the man had been more like a father to some of the kids on his teams than their own fathers. His heart attack last year had hit everyone in town really hard, especially Lorelie, whose mother had apparently died in childbirth. Her and her father had always been super close.
Finally, they directed everyone’s attention to the press box. A large white sheet had been draped above the concession stand, but when the principal gave the signal, the sheet fell away to reveal a brand new sign. They were now sitting in the Nicholas Carr Stadium.
“Aww, look at that,” Paige whispered, awed, clutching her hands in front of her mouth. “They dedicated it to Coach Carr.”
Drake smiled. It was good to see the beloved coach who had given so much to the school, the community, and the players being honored in such a special way.
Eventually Colt rejoined them in the stands, his mood much better. Drake knew how much his best friend loved being the center of attention. Only problem was, in recent years Colt had received more negative attention than good. He’d been subject to some gossip in town, especially speculation that his marriage had ended to his cheating, which Drake knew for a fact was completely untrue. Colt wasn’t a cheater. If he committed to something, he stuck with it. He just wouldn’t commit unless he was absolutely sure it would work.
Drake gave him a sidelong glance from the opposite side of Paige. He was grinning, some of his usual cheer returned. It warmed Drake to see it. He’d vowed to give Colt some time to come around—or not. He couldn’t keep chasing someone who didn’t want him.
Who didn’t want to want him, which was somehow even worse.
He hadn’t imagined the crazy intense connection that had led to them falling on each other like animals the other day in the kitchen. Obviously Colt had been affected by it too. He’d kissed him first. He’d been completely into everything that had come next. God, the way he’d powered into him, ripping apart every fear Drake had
harbored that Colt would never, ever be able to see him that way. The way he’d seen Colt for far too long. Long before they’d ever shared a woman. Being part of a threesome with him had only intensified the feeling until it was nearly unbearable.
But Colt had kicked it right into the end zone, making him hope harder than he ever had in his life. And just as swiftly, he’d crushed Drake’s hopes and turned away.
His arm coiled around Paige between them. She’d been bouncing and cheering ever since halftime, on a one-woman quest to help the team win. And she was about to succeed. The Titans were crushing the Pioneers. It was practically a blowout.
It didn’t take much longer for the blowout status to become definitive. The Titans beat the Pioneers 36-7, and when the three of them walked into the barn at Coach’s for the after party Lorelie was putting on, the mood was euphoric. Almost everyone they passed slapped hands with Colt and commented how it was amazing they finally had a team that who could take it all the way like the old championship team had back in the day. That state trophy was finally in their sights again.
“He’s in his element, isn’t he?” Paige asked, drinking from a red Solo cup as she saw Colt whooping it up with some of his football buddies. He laughed loudly at something Tucker said and pointed at Jackson, getting him involved in the conversation.
“Yeah.” Drake took a drink from her cup. Oakley was at the keg and Sadie was behind the bar, keeping the drinks plentiful and the conversation lively. He’d decided to mostly abstain, since he knew Colt wouldn’t. No matter how cheerful Colt seemed on the surface, Drake knew that underneath, he must be reeling. He was painfully predictable at times.
Get miserable, get drunk.
If he followed his typical pattern tonight, Drake would be there to drive him and Paige home. Just as he had that fateful night several weeks ago.
Might as well have been a lifetime.
Drake returned her cup and she frowned into it. “Is that why he’s ignoring us?”
Aww, shit. He could put up with Colt giving him the silent treatment. What he wouldn’t tolerate was him not being square with Paige. If she’d become collateral damage due to Colt’s situation with him, then Colt damn well better man up and tell her where they stood. Not wander around acting like a big shot with his buddies.
