Coming Clean

by Inez Kelley

“I guess it would depend on the size of the bat though, wouldn’t it?

  “Are we seriously talking about anal sex in baseball analogies?”

  “Guess we are,” Grant chuckled. “Getting personal here, but do you prefer pitching or catching?”

  For a second, Grant thought Cade wouldn’t answer. Then a private smile crinkled his eyes. “I like both but if I had to pick, I prefer catching. Does that shock you?”

  “No.” It sent a ripple of lust straight to his nuts. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “No, it doesn’t. Do yourself a favor, let Viv try something sometime. You might be surprised how good it is.”

  I might. Maybe not with Vivi, but with you. “So you think you might be interested in joining us?”

  Pure manly arrogance curved Cade’s mouth. “I’m interested. Just want to work out some logistics, set some boundaries so I understand where things are heading. If this happens with the three of us, tell me the rules. She doesn’t want DP. So is it you and me pleasing Viv or is it you sitting there watching, like with the tango?”

  A knot of unknown longing crowded his vocal cords, and Grant put the bottle to his lips but didn’t drink. A strange sense of acceptance had seeped into him. He lowered every shield he had, embracing the thought of the new and untried. If he was going to do this, going to open that door, then he was going to do it with eyes wide open and with no hidden agendas. “She wants the three of us together…all parties involved equally.”

  Golden-brown brows dropped to a shrewd evaluating level. The stare danced over Grant’s skin, and each individual hair stood and twitched at the perusal. His gut tightened in anticipation of the questions he saw forming.

  “She wants you and me together?”

  He nodded once and Cade sucked in a swift breath.

  “You’re straight.”

  “Technically.”

  “Technically? Either you are or you aren’t. You are. Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, technically, I’m straight. I’ve never had any…contact with another guy.” A tight knot twisted in his belly, and he took a huge step in a timid whisper. “Except that one time with you.”

  Cade jerked the bourbon from his hand. “We were fourteen, watching our first porno. It was a circle jerk, that’s all. It doesn’t make you bi or gay or—”

  “I’m curious. Why do you think I asked about catching?” His voice seemed loud as the dryer clicked off, the whisper hanging in the thick lint-scented air. The frantic tempo of his pulse centered in his chest and he resisted the urge to rub the ache away. He waited as Cade absorbed the moment.

  “Bullshit. You’re thirty-seven-years old. You don’t suddenly get bi-curious at that age. If you wanted to play around, there’ve been a fuck ton of opportunities in your life. I personally know three guys who hit on you before you got married.”

  “Okay, I’m not bi-curious. I’m Cade-curious.”

  Cade’s eyes went wide but Grant pushed forward. He’d opened the door and it was time to step through it.

  “It’s not the idea of experimenting or another guy, it’s just you. That circle jerk as you called it? I didn’t forget it. I liked it too much and it scared me. I pushed it away, got a girlfriend and screwed her. I fell in love with Vivi and got married. Doesn’t change the fact that I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d just kissed you that day. I wanted to but I was afraid. I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “I don’t know what I feel right now.”

  “I’m not blind, Cade. You’ve looked at me a few times and thought about it.”

  What closed Cade’s eyes? Was it guilt? Disgust? Desire? They slowly opened. Ocean blue eyes shining with need, he looked deeper into Grant’s face.

  The ached slipped from his chest to swell his cock. They were so close. It wouldn’t take much to shift, to lean sidewise and touch him. Grant wanted to but he couldn’t make his body move. Maybe he was still a little afraid. Or maybe he wanted too much.

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I know you, Grant. You’ve looked at every angle, every possible outcome before opening your mouth. What are you looking for?”

  Cade was close enough for Grant to see each individual eyelash and eyebrow. They weren’t straight blonde but a random fusion of gold, yellow and pale tan. His lips ached to press to those tiny hairs, to feel the tension ease under his kiss. “No clue. I’m a rookie here. But I’m a good player and I learn fast. Teach me.”

  A soft command husked with gravelly texture. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” His sultry tone slithered across the air, shedding a skin of doubt and revealing scales of lust and promise.

  “Wondering what your mouth feels like.”

  The forthright and immediate answer sent Cade straight back against the dryer with a sharp inhale. His chest heaved, his pupils dilated and a pale pink tongue inched out to skate across his lip.

  A shiver formed at the base of Grant’s spine and worked its way outward until each muscle quaked with unfamiliar expectation. He was powerless, a cork in a sea of fate. Somehow, his course was set and the ride promised to be delectable. His mouth watered in anticipation.

  The almost-visible acknowledgment of his sincerity triggered Cade’s predatory grin. Excitement bordering on arousal coursed through Grant as he recognized the look. This was Cade closing in on a sexual encounter. He’d seen it in bars, at ball games and once in a hardware store. A seductive quality washed through Cade, invisible yet present in the languid way he moved, the heavy-lidded slant of his eyes, the simmering gaze.

  He bent his leg until his knee made contact with Grant’s thigh. Masculine heat warmed where they touched. A burn formed as he held his breath, aware that this step, this move, contained a challenge. So far, nothing more than words had been exchanged. It was crunch time, either walk away or commit to more. Cade was allowing him an escape or a foothold. The choice was his.

  Purposefully, Grant flexed his leg half an inch and bumped back. A warm, hard palm landed above his knee. Grant’s lids dropped without thought as the heat increased through his jeans with a gentle squeeze. He lowered his right hand to Cade’s thigh. A single thumb stroke shouted his understanding.

  Inside the denim, Cade’s muscle tightened. Challenge accepted.

  “How drunk are you?” Cade’s husky tone slid out with a seductive purr.

  “I’m not. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  The firm hand on his leg slid higher, massaging his thigh. “Will this—anything that happens—screw our friendship? I don’t want to lose that.”

  “No, it won’t. I can’t lose you, either. You’re more than a friend, Cade, you know that. You’re part of me.”

  “So this is what, like a new level of best friends?”

  “I don’t know,” Grant said. “But it’s something that’s been brewing for years. I think it’s time we owned up to it, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. Come on, let’s get off this hard-ass floor and go…to the living room or something. Can you stand?”

  “Yeah.”

  Cade rose effortlessly then cupped Grant’s elbow to steady him. All he felt was immediate crackling warmth until a sharp twinge zinged the second he put weight on his foot. He sucked in a fast breath.

  Cade stepped in front of him and gripped his shoulders. “Okay?”

  “I think so. I almost forgot about it. Just took me by surprise.”

  He looked straight into Cade’s eyes and his stomach lurched. Sparks flying was a metaphor Grant rarely thought about except literally, as in grounding wires and blow torches, but it wouldn’t have surprised him if a bright arc of electricity sizzled between them. They stood close enough for him feel the hot breath on his cheeks, smell the sweet dust of birch and soft maple, see the flare of nostrils when Cade inhaled deeply. Not one word was said but Grant knew exactly what Cade was thinking, could read it in his eyes.

  “Go ahead,” Cade whispered. Hot butter on warm bread, the slightly Southern voice bathed the space in intimate sensuality. “If
this is something you really want, I need you to make the first move.”

  The words jolted through Grant like a thousand volts. His chest rose with his slow inhale before he cupped Cade’s jaw, skimming a thumb across his mouth. Strength and firm bone filled his palm, foreign, different and alluring. A soft tongue darted out, licking a tiny taste of his skin. Grant shivered, closed his eyes and dipped his head.

  He took the step he’d been too terrified to take over twenty years ago. He kissed his best friend.

  Cade Crosses a Line

  The grazing kiss barely touched their lips but Cade didn’t try to return it. This was Grant’s exploration and he allowed it, unhurried and uncontested. His heart jackhammered, pummeling his ribs. The desperate need to deepen the light peck scoured through him but he refused. He would not let loose the famished need inside him too quickly and fuck this up.

  Once the first contact was breached, the touch increased. Grant pressed his mouth firmer, moving cautiously but inquisitively. Much like a teenager giving his first timid kiss, he seemed interested but unsure. After several seconds, Cade allowed himself to respond, echoing the gentle, innocent motions. His encouragement prolonged the union.

  A sobering thought planted a deep ache in his chest. He was taking Grant’s male innocence with this single exploring kiss. Even if it never went further than lips on lips for these few seconds, this would forever change the way Grant thought about himself as a man, a husband and a human being. Cade quietly vowed not to let him ever feel like it was a mistake, to regret this move. If this was as close to Grant as he ever got sexually, it would be enough.

  Grant pulled away and drew a measured breath. Cade couldn’t read his expression. This was not a side of Grant he’d ever seen. He’d seen him turned on, charged up, but never in a sexual experiment. They’d been too frantic as teens to appreciate the moment, a loss he’d reflected on more than once. Was Grant going to shrug this off as a fail?

  He couldn’t disguise the rough hunger in his voice. “Well? Was it what you expected?”

  “No.” Grant shook his head. “It was better.”

  He moved forward to bring their lips together again and Cade shifted his face away. “Wait. Is Viv okay with this? I mean…this could be seen as you cheating.”

  Grant’s slight grin eased his tightened gut. “She’s okay with it. She told me to go for it if the opportunity came up so, yeah, I went for it. Now I’m going for it again.”

  Opening his lips, Cade eagerly accepted the more aggressive kiss, his tongue stroking Grant’s. A man kissed differently than a woman, something he knew Grant was just discovering. Mouths were harder, the skin and muscle around it rougher. His faint five o’clock shadow sounded a soft grating rasp on Grant’s palm and the harsh calluses cupping his neck sparked tingles all the way down his spine. Hands had entered into the equation so he let his slide along Grant’s waist.

  Tongue to tongue, taking time to taste and discover, Cade drank in Grant’s somehow familiar and yet totally unknown flavor. His balls tightened as strong fingers sank into his hair, angling his head to deepen the kiss even more. Kissing had never been so erotic. Each tongue touch was like losing his virginity all over again. He was kissing, was being kissed by, Grant.

  He slid his fingers through Grant’s belt loops and stepped closer, grinding his growing erection into another rising one. Exploration turned to lust. Grant’s hand stroked down his back but hesitated before going lower. It glided over his back pocket then lightly squeezed his ass. A low murmur rumbled but Cade had no idea who made it, Grant or him. He didn’t care, licking a lip he’d traced a thousand times in his mind. The hard ridge grew against his lower stomach, and their jagged breaths mingled and joined.

  It had been so long since he’d been with another man, he’d nearly forgotten the zinging tremors that gripped his gut with masculine tang. There was something more intoxicating than alcohol about feeling hands and lips similar in shape and size to your own touch you. Grant definitely liked kissing, and each lick and nibble pumped more yearning through Cade. His control cracked, and he had to pull away before he moved too fast or tried to give more than Grant might be ready to accept. It took more determination to angle his head back than he could ever have imagined.

  Grant didn’t move his hands, seemingly reluctant to part. His expanded pupils all but obliterated his normal coffee-colored eyes, and a lusty haze shaded the thin visible ring to burnt maple. His heart pounded like a bass drum, and Cade’s matched the tempo. Counting himself lucky there was only an inch height difference between them, Cade tipped his head until they were touching forehead to forehead. Grant never backed away.

  “Ground rules.” Scratching in a lust-hoarse voice, his words were feather soft.

  Grant licked his lip before nodding his head.

  The wiggle of their skin made Cade smile. “First, only what you want. No pressure for anything more, got it? Slow is fine and stopping is better than regrets.”

  Grant nodded once.

  “Second, no is no, period. There isn’t any talking around something. If it’s a no, it’s a no.”

  Again, a dark head bobbed his understanding.

  “Third.” Cade tilted his head and smiled softly. “If it feels good, it’s all right. Nothing is off limits until you say so. I just want to make you feel good, Grant.”

  He leaned in to initiate another kiss but Grant moved backward. “I have a ground rule of my own. I have no clue what the fuck I’m doing, so you have to take point. I feel like a virgin on prom night here. I’ll follow your lead and assume if you make a move, it’s all right to return it. Okay?”

  “Deal. Now, why are we standing in your laundry room talking about this?”

  “Just seemed like the right time.” A flirty grin widened Grant’s mouth. “Besides, is there a better place to come clean with you?”

  Cade touched that smile, felt the curves and angles of lips moist from his own. He let his fingers slide down, past Grant’s sternum, over his tight stomach, to the button of his pants. The touch was bold and aggressive and he watched for a reaction. So far, other than a heavy-duty make-out session, no boundaries had been tested.

  Grant didn’t shy away. In fact, the hand on his ass kneaded more firmly.

  No, Grant was definitely not pulling away.

  Cade let his palm shift lower, flattening over the zipper until it cupped Grant’s hard cock through his jeans. The ridges and cords of his neck bulged with a swallow but he thrust his hips slightly, pushing into the touch. Cade stepped back, putting as much sexual need in his expression as he could. “There’s one place that’s better for coming clean. I need to wash up and you need to wash that cut. Shower with me.”

  Grant’s eyes widened a bit but he nodded. “Master shower is bigger.”

  Cade hid his smile. He knew that, had laid the heavy slate tile himself one Friday night while Grant connected plumbing and glued joints. Grant’s nerves shone through with that statement but his hand barely tremored as it secured the bourbon cap. He left the liquor on the kitchen counter and led the way down the hall to the master suite. The slight jerk in his carefully balanced limp drew Cade’s attention to the broad line of his shoulders.

  How far did Grant want to let things go? He hadn’t hesitated with the “get naked” suggestion but then, as Granny used to say, “getting naked” was one thing, but “gettin’ nekkid” was a whole ’nother ballgame. They’d shared showers as ballplayers with a dozen other guys. The circumstances were different now, the stakes higher, the emotions running. At least they were for Cade.

  Cade paused outside the bedroom. To him, this wasn’t a quick fuck. This was something deeper, something more. He was honest enough with himself to admit, finally, that he wanted more out of his best friends. What if it was purely experimentation to Grant? What if he didn’t like whatever was about to happen? Could Cade accept it if, after tonight, Grant wanted to revert to being just friends?

  He steeled his jaw and stepped into the ba
throom. He had no choice. Now that this thing was out in the open, he couldn’t walk away. If Grant backed down, then he would have to deal with it. It would hurt like a bitch, but not taking this to whatever level loomed ahead was unthinkable. It was better to be disappointed than never to take the chance, but he’d learned a lot from his divorce. He’d keep his heart under lock and key. He yanked his T-shirt off to hide the fear that shot through him.

  Grant hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and leaned on the vanity, a lost expression rounding his brows. Tenderness welled from the pit of Cade’s stomach. He remembered too well the gut-cramping nerves before his first male encounter. In a split second, he decided to play it cool, keep it physical, not make this harder than it was. A swallowed snort burned his throat. If things got any harder, he was going to bust his zipper wide open.

  With a contrived casualness, he stepped on the toe of his damp sock and pulled his foot free, first the left, then the right. Dark chocolate eyes fell to his hands when he unsnapped his jeans. The soft pop was a silenced revolver starting the action. Grant’s shuddered breath rang loud in the still air.

  “Grant, relax. It’s a shower. Nothing happens you aren’t ready for.” Cade crossed to stand in front of the toilet. Making his bladder release took concentration. His cock ached with the firm weight of an oak four-by-four. But the natural action was non-threatening, non-aggressive and served as filler for the shedding of clothes. Before he flushed, he heard the soft rustle of cotton behind him.

  Grant’s blue T-shirt lay crumpled in the sink. In the mirror, his skin gleamed like polished bronze, and Cade’s fingers twitched to run through the dark hair swirled in the center of his chest. His worn jeans hugged every curve and highlighted the cut of each muscle along his back. Cade jerked his attention away and opened the linen closet beside the toilet.

  “We’re going to make more laundry. Viv’s going pass a brick,” he joked.

  Grant grinned. “I think we can distract her from dirty towels if we put our minds to it.”

  Cade leaned into the shower and snapped the water to hot, taking too much time to adjust the temperature. Without looking over his shoulder, he shed his jeans and underwear, then stepped inside the tiled double-wide stall.