Full House: Three of a Kind, Book 3

by Jess Dee

  There was no way of knowing, especially because he and Trev hadn’t said more than hello to each other since he’d arrived at Trev’s house. He’d been delayed at the shop, talking with his sister about her newest jewelry designs and their anticipated launch date, so he’d missed the general small talk and catch-up that preceded a game. Much as he’d wanted to speak to Trev, he hadn’t had a chance.

  Max looked at his cards and checked the flop. He’d played on autopilot up until now, his mind more in Trev’s pants than on the game. But the nine and jack in his hand matched the two nines and the jack on the table. Waddya know? He’d flopped a full house.

  Tricky, since that was one of the things he’d wanted to discuss with Trev tonight. A full house.

  He bet low, giving no indication of the cards he held.

  Megan, ever eager to show her new and ridiculously talented poker skills, matched his bet and raised him. Max smiled to himself. He was gonna reel her right in on this hand. Play her all the way.

  He wanted to play Trev all the way too.

  Jay was in, and so was Alex. Everyone else folded.

  Megan bet higher on the turn, forcing the three men to match her or fold. Al folded, Jay and Max bet. Max waited for the river before betting high. Megan matched his chips, while Jay tossed in his cards.

  The pot was big. The largest one of the night. Everyone watched, rapt, eager to see who’d win. Alex and Des cheered for Megan. Hunter, Jay and Jules poked fun at both remaining players, and Trev… Damn, Trev watched him with his unnerving brown eyes, his attention fixed on Max’s face.

  So intent was Trev’s focus, Max felt it all the way down to his groin. Felt the pull of attraction between them, the tug of desire, like silver heat in his veins, racing through his bloodstream and yanking on his balls.

  A couple of seconds under the watchful eyes of Trevor Greenfield, and Max was hard as a fucking pole—and losing his focus on the game.

  He revealed his cards.

  “Damn,” Megan muttered. “I thought you were bluffing.”

  He was. Big-time. Pretending he didn’t give a fuck if he stayed over with Trev tonight or not. “Me? I never bluff.” He winked at Megan.

  She gave a playful frown and set her hand down. Three jacks. Good, but not good enough.

  “I guess this means the next round of drinks is on me,” Max said and made a big production of hauling his winnings across the table.

  “Hey, I’m happy to spring for drinks,” was Megan’s quick retort. “Just so long as you all have tap water.”

  Everyone laughed. Megan and a small pile of chips was not a common sight at their poker evenings.

  Since the topic had been brought up, Jay suggested they stop for a drink break anyway. The suggestion was met with a large round of cheers, and Trev disappeared into his kitchen for a fresh bucket of ice.

  Max popped a beer and took a long sip, contemplating whether to follow Trev or not. Probably a bad move, since he’d feel compelled to back the guy into a corner and kiss the hell out of him. Maybe even grope him a little. The poker school had no idea he and Trev were anything other than mates, and Max and Trev were happy for the privacy.

  If Max shot out of his chair now and went after Trev—like he wanted to—not a single person there would be left with any doubt as to the real reason he was going into the kitchen.

  He thought about his hand. A full house. A possibility for him and Trev? Just before he’d left on his trip, Trev had mentioned he’d been looking for a housemate. Max had pondered the possibility of taking up the position. It would be a brilliant idea. A way of slowly getting under Trev’s skin. The more time they had together, the more time they could be together. Rather than keeping their relationship to two or three nights a month, as had become routine, they could fuck whenever they wanted. Or have time out—if Trev wanted. Separate rooms, separate beds, separate lives. Same house. A world of opportunity.

  And a chance for Max to spend more time with Trev.

  Yep. Top idea. Now he just needed a chance to run it by Trev. Tonight would have been perfect. But now? Seemed the night had become complicated.

  He turned to talk to Des, but Des was absorbed in conversation with Alex and Megan. Hunter, Jay and Julia had moved away from the table and were huddled in a group near the drinks. Hunter massaged Jay’s neck ever so casually, as if he hadn’t thought twice about it. Jay leaned back into the other man’s touch. They both continued their conversation with Julia as if nothing had happened.

  Max’s cock tightened in his pants. Jay and Hunter. Who’d ever have guessed? Hunter had been a ladies’ man through and through until he, Jules and Jay had gotten together, and then everything changed. They were an unexpected combination, but they worked. Really well.

  Would he and Trev work as well if they made this thing between them permanent?

  Megan laughed throatily as Alex kissed her cheek, and Des grinned like a fool at both of them. Megan’s flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes were a study in post-orgasmic bliss. Those three must have been very busy before coming to poker.

  Intense longing and desire permeated the air. Max would have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on it. It made him ache deep inside. Made him long for a man who might not be his tonight. Would he ever be his permanently?

  The atmosphere was as cloying as it was arousing. He had two choices. Stay here, the fifth wheel on the poker wagon, or ignore his self-warning to steer clear of Trev and head into the kitchen.

  He chose the latter. At least Trev would understand his need to escape the twin set of trips.

  “It’s like an orgy out there,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. “Ménage paradise in your dining room.”

  Trev turned to him, his gaze troubled. Max tried to think back to the last time he’d seen Trev worried by something and came up blank. Trev was about the most laid-back guy he knew. Nothing seemed to trouble him. Yet tonight he was definitely preoccupied. The complication?

  Trev gave Max a sardonic smile. “Don’t I know it. It’s making me horny as hell. I’ve had an erection half the bloody night.”

  Max couldn’t help it. He dropped his gaze to confirm Trev’s words, which pretty much reflected his own responses to both the dynamics outside and the man in here.

  Oh, yeah. Erection, all right. Huge one.

  He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Damn it, he wanted Trev with a ferocity that shook him to the bones.

  They hadn’t been together in six weeks. At least. Max wanted to rip off his pants and Trev’s, push the man down on all fours and fuck him until they both begged for relief. Fuck him until the hesitation in Trev’s face vanished, replaced by a post-sex lethargy.

  Trev made a funny sound. “Fuck, Max,” he said gruffly. “There are six people out there who don’t need to know my business or yours. Keep staring at me like that, and those six peeps will be treated to an eyeful of my dick in your mouth. Got me?”

  Max’s cock pressed hard against his zip. “Keep talking like that,” he warned Trev right back, “and that’s not the only treat those six people out there are gonna be given. Got me?”

  He’d bent Trev over the bench top and taken his ass more than once in this very kitchen. There was very little stopping him from doing it again, right now. Well, very little, if you discounted public impropriety and those two words: It’s complicated.

  “You threatening me?” Trev asked and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flared with both desire and humor.

  Max shook his head and smiled. Amazing how much he felt like smiling when he was around Trev. “Just fantasizing out loud.”

  Trev stared at him with those unnerving brown eyes, his gaze unwavering. The humor had dissipated, the desire had not. “You’d consider fucking me here? With six peeps on the other side of that door?” His tone was a good notch lower than usual.

  He’d consider fucking Trev in every room in his house—regardless of who stood outside the door. “You up to it?”

  Yeah, right. Big talk. When he fu
cked Trev again, it would be in private. And it wouldn’t be a fuck. It would be more than that. So much more. A fuck implied a mutually pleasurable sexual encounter and nothing else. The next time Max touched Trev in any meaningful way, he’d make love to the man.

  Again the need to back Trev into a corner and kiss the hell out of him assailed him. He was giving the idea serious thought when Trev acted all on his own. Before he knew it, Max was shoved against a cupboard, his back pinned to the smooth door, his front pressed against the hard planes of Trev’s chest. Trev pinned his arms at his sides and held them there.

  Never failed to amaze him that a guy as assertive as Trev could offer Max his ass every damn time. Never failed to amaze him how damn much it turned him on. How much he loved the sensation of sinking into Trev’s hot channel, of the smooth heat that closed around him, pulling him deeper as he held on to those round, taut butt cheeks.

  Hell, his cock wept just thinking about it.

  The man was built. Muscled, broad and solid, just the way Max liked his men. And dear God, Trev’s dick. Thick and hard, it ground against his now, igniting fires all over his body.

  Yeah, Trev had wanted to take Max. Had suggested it more than once. But bottoming for anyone had never appealed to him, and as much as he loved Trev, much as he loved Trev’s dick, he wasn’t ready for the other man to slip it in his ass.

  He rocked his hips, massaging his cock against Trev’s, mimicking the way he’d thrust if he were actually inside him. God help him, he needed to be inside him. Needed to tell him about his revelation while overseas. Needed to let Trev know he cared. A lot. About more than just sex. He’d fallen for his fuck-buddy.

  He leaned in and nipped Trev’s ear, just hard enough to cause pain. When he did it while inside Trev, it almost always resulted in Trev orgasming, especially if Max’s hand was wrapped around the other man’s cock at the same time.

  Trev’s groan was guttural, and Max flexed his wrist, wishing he held Trev’s cock now.

  “I missed this,” Max said softly into his ear. “I missed you.” Before Trev could react, he quickly added, “If those people weren’t standing on the other side of this door, my cock would be so deep in your ass you’d be coming before I pulled out the first time.”

  Trev made a small, animalistic sound in his throat, leaned down and, with unerring precision, raked his teeth over Max’s nipple.

  A thrill shot up his spine.

  Trev straightened. “If you were in my ass now, I would not be the only one coming.”

  Fucking T-shirt lay against his now highly sensitized nipple, torturing him with its cotton softness. His arms were pinned at his sides so he couldn’t use them to pull the material away from his skin. As punishment, he bit Trev’s ear again, and Trev bucked hard against him.

  “Which would you like more?” Max asked, his voice a murmur. “Your dick in my mouth…” He had to pause for a second and breathe deep. Christ, he wanted Trev’s dick in his mouth. So much he could almost taste it, could almost feel the pressure as he swallowed it down the back of his throat.

  Trev’s erection jerked against Max’s.

  “Or my cock in your ass?” This time it was Max’s cock that jerked, the thought of pushing deep into Trev more than he could stand.

  Damn it, six weeks. He didn’t want to wait another day. Another minute. He wanted to fuck Trev. Wanted to make love to him. Wanted to ease the ache in his balls and the pain in his chest. Wanted Trev to know how he felt. How he’d fallen in love…

  Trev ground his dick against Max’s, and Max closed his eyes, willing himself not to come, not to shoot his load right here, in the kitchen, fully clothed.

  “Or…” Max breathed deep, tried to keep his voice steady. “I could lay you on your kitchen table and lick you just the way you like. Let my tongue roll around your hole, over and over, in and out, wetting you for me, relaxing you.” He ran his tongue over Trev’s earlobe, and the man shuddered violently.

  Trev pulled his head away so Max could see his eyes, could recognize the hunger burning in them. Trev’s voice was a low rumble when he answered. “I want them all. I want you to suck my cock and lick my ass and fuck me until I can’t stand anymore.” His cheeks were red and heat radiated off him. “I want you to come inside me, shooting your load so hard you make me come too.”

  He stopped, panting. Their faces were close, so close his hot breath mingled with Max’s. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming. All he needed to do was inch his face forward and their lips would meet. Dear God, he had to kiss Trev, had to place his mouth over his and devour him.

  “But what I want most—” Trev hesitated, then bent his neck so his mouth was angled less than a centimeter from Max’s, “—is for you to want me as much as I want you.” With that he crushed his lips against Max’s.

  Max was more than ready for him. He attacked Trev’s lips with vigor, possessed by an urgency to taste the man he loved.

  Want Trev as much as Trev wanted him? He should only know what Max was thinking now. How the urgency to possess him, to make love to him, was driving him mad with need.

  He plunged his tongue into Trev’s mouth, kissing him like he might drown without Trev’s lips. God, he needed the man. Needed him more than he’d ever thought possible.

  Trev kissed him back with the same level of desperation. His ruthless grinding of his cock against Max’s kept Max perilously close to orgasm.

  How could his feelings have turned around so completely? How could a casual root have turned into a desire for a lifetime together?

  How could he continue kissing the man without yanking down both of their pants and burying himself in Trev’s ass? God help him, but the thought of feeling Trev’s velvety flesh closing around him, of sinking into his depths and becoming one with him, had Max hanging on the edge, needing to come. Needing to tell Trev, finally, how damn much he loved him. How damn much he wanted to make a life with him.

  Trev wanted Max to want him? Oh, that was all taken care of. Max was going stir-crazy with lust. But he needed more. Needed a night alone with Trev to tell him all of this, a night with no complications.

  Max pulled away from Trev’s lips, hating the cold air that rushed over his face.

  It took a while before Trev’s eyes opened, and when they did, the dark lust seeping from them almost undid Max. How was it possible Trev could be this aroused—and Max knew when Trev was aroused, he’d spent two years studying the phenomenon—if things were complicated?

  “Yes or no?” Max asked, his voice a whisper, his heart clenched in a vise. God help him, he needed Trev to say yes.

  Trev froze.

  The merciless grinding of cock against cock ceased. For endless seconds neither man moved. Trev stared at Max’s mouth and Max stared at Trev’s eyes. Muted laughter filtered through the door.

  His balls ached, burning with pent-up desire.

  “Shit.” Trev released him with a curse and stepped away. He rubbed his groin as though in pain.

  Max could relate.

  “Shit,” Trev swore again and walked backward until his butt hit the bench top, then he swung around so fast he knocked over a silver bucket.

  The resounding clatter of ice crashing into the sink did little to relieve the pressure in Max’s neck or dick. He breathed deep and rolled his shoulders, wishing he didn’t feel like a tightly wound coil.

  “I want you to stay the night.”

  Trev’s words were soft, but Max heard them. Exalted in them. “You do?”

  “Christ, yes,” Trev snapped. “I want you to fuck me so bad I can hardly breathe from it.”

  Joy flooded Max’s system, so intense it almost knocked him sideways.

  Trev shook his head. “But you can’t.”

  A blow to the nuts couldn’t have hit harder.

  It took Max a good few seconds to find his voice. Recovery from rejection took time. Finally he raised his hands in acceptance, pretending everything was cool. Then he dropped them. Trev wasn’t looking his way
and the effort of holding them up about killed him. “Whatever, mate. It’s your call.”

  Trev spun around, disbelief blazing in his face. “Whatever?”

  “Yes, no, it’s your choice.” Christ, how did he present such a calm façade when his insides were shriveling? “You said no. No worries.”

  “No worries?” Trev fisted his hands at his chest.

  A fighter pose or a protective one?

  “No worries?” Trev said again, his voice loud in the small room. He swore and spoke more softly. “I’ve spent six fucking weeks waiting to see you again. Six weeks fantasizing about you and your damn dick, and all you can say is no worries?”

  “What the fuck?” There went Max’s rational thought again. If Trev had spent six weeks fantasizing, then why the hell didn’t he want Max spending the night?

  Trev glowered at him, his expression incredulous and conflicted.

  Max stalked across the kitchen, getting in Trev’s face, pressing his chest against Trev’s fists, squashing them between their two bodies. “You think I don’t wanna spend the night?” There was nothing he wanted more—except perhaps a lifetime of spending the night with Trev. “You think I don’t wanna fuck you?” Wait. He didn’t. “Make love to you?” Ah, that he did. He shuffled back an inch and cupped his hand none too gently over the bulge in Trev’s pants.

  Trev jerked beneath his touch and made that same animalistic sound deep in his throat.

  “You think I haven’t spent the last month thinking about this?” Christ, he loved Trev’s dick. Touching it again, even over his jeans, was doing mad things to his breathing. Trev was every bit as hard as he was. “Damn it, I’m having wet dreams about you. Fucking wet dreams.” Sleeping alone in hotel rooms was no fun. Not when the huge double beds rattled with emptiness. “So don’t get pissy with me, mate. You said not tonight. Not me.”

  Trev’s hands uncurled, and he turned them so his palms were pressed against Max’s chest. “I said it was complicated.” Trev closed his eyes.