The Boys Back Home

by Sierra Dafoe

  It was ironic, in a way. Sometimes he felt he’d spent his entire life bracing himself against the moment when Cassie would finally reach for Kyle, as surely she must (he’d watched them together, Cassie smiling merrily up at Kyle—handsome, easygoing Kyle—for too long to doubt it). Yet when the moment had finally come, Alan had to admit all his preparation had been in vain.

  And when he’d spotted the ring on Cassie’s finger, all he’d been able to see was red. The idea that Kyle could have done that, could have slept with her even though she was engaged… Alan shook his head absently as he reached the top step.

  No, he really hadn’t been thinking. Kyle would never have done that. He was too good, too honest, too fundamentally decent.

  It was a quality that, for the first time in his life, Alan was beginning to doubt in himself.

  That kiss out in the stable—what had that been about? Had he honestly managed to forget that you could see the stable perfectly from the house? Was he really so selfish that he’d purposefully kissed Kyle where Cassie could see? He’d always known this day was coming—and he’d never intended to do anything other than step back and take what pleasure he could in seeing the two people he loved most happy together.

  So how, then, could he have done something so stupid?

  The questions tumbled through his mind as he yanked open the door to the guest room. Cassie wasn’t there. The narrow single bed was unrumpled, the closet empty. Quickly, he strode to the room he shared with Kyle and threw open the door.

  She wasn’t there, either—but the sight of their oversized bed made Alan pause. He could still remember lying there, the first year after Cassie had left, feeling his own heart ache with the grief he could hear in Kyle’s sobs.

  They’d shared so much, the two of them. They’d built a business together, a home, a life. It had always been a life lived partly in suspension, both of them waiting in some small, hidden cranny of themselves for Cassie to come back—but it had been a life.

  It was a lot to give up, that was all. He’d been determined to do it, for Cassie and for Kyle, but it was a lot to give up. And he just hadn’t wanted to let go of it quite yet. It was as simple—as human—as that.

  A furtive sense of relief crept through him, and he strode briskly to the bathroom and rapped on the door.

  “Cass? Cass, you in there?”

  Despite Kyle’s insistence, he still found it almost impossible to believe that Cassie could want him. What girl in her right mind would choose him when she could have Kyle instead? But she hadn’t, Alan realized. She’d never chosen either of them. For the first time it occurred to him to wonder why, if she’d wanted Kyle so much—and she had; Alan had no doubts on that score—she hadn’t simply claimed him years ago.

  What had been stopping her?

  Kyle pounded up the stairs behind him, and one glance at his pale, worried face told Alan she wasn’t anywhere downstairs. He reached for the doorknob, then rattled it. It was locked.

  “Cassie!”

  Stepping back, he kicked at the door, sending splinters of wood flying from the frame. He stepped into the bathroom, flicked on the lights…and froze at the sight of Cassie huddled on the floor in nothing but her panties, shaking uncontrollably, her eyes staring blindly at nothing.

  Oh, hell. He stood still as a statue as Kyle pushed past him to kneel at Cassie’s side, yanking his sheepskin coat off at the same time and draping it over her bare shoulders. “Cassie? Cass, honey, talk to me!”

  But when at last she raised her head, it was Alan she looked at, Alan her haunted gaze sought—and in one single, bright burst he understood everything: why she’d put her ring on; why she’d never reached out for Kyle…

  She did love Kyle. She did.

  But she loved him, too.

  Closing his eyes, Alan swallowed against the sting of tears, seeing Cassie in his mind’s eye, always between them, laughing up at Kyle as he joked with her—and then turning to him, her eyes warm and gleaming, including him even when he stayed cold and silent. Cassie flinging her arms around Kyle’s neck—and then coming to stand close beside him, glancing sidelong at him shyly as she nudged him with her shoulder.

  More, he caught a quick, terrifying glimpse of her own determination, her own loneliness—how badly she must have wanted them! But they lived in a world where one man wanting another was still condemned, if not unheard of—how much harder would that world have been on Cassie for loving them both?

  He and Kyle had at least had each other. All these years, Cassie had been completely alone.

  Alan felt a wave of self-loathing so deep he could barely breathe. How could he have been so blind? Why hadn’t he seen it all years ago?

  But Cassie was still watching him, her mute, poignant gaze fixed on his face, and there was no time right now for guilt or regrets. Shoving his emotions aside, he knelt by her and touched her arm. Her skin was like ice, her shadowed gaze dazedly following his every movement.

  “She’s so cold, Al.”

  Alan nodded brusquely, feeling her forehead, then the pulse in her neck. “She’s in shock. Start the tub. We’ve got to get her warm.”

  While Kyle opened the taps, Alan slid his arms under Cassie’s thighs and around her back. “All right, Cass. Up you come.” He stood, lifting her easily—she was so thin. When had she gotten so thin? But her arms shifted, wrapping weakly around his neck, and Alan took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling relief wash through him. When he’d first seen her, he’d been terrified that she’d gone too deep inside herself for them to pull her back. But she was all right. She was going to be all right.

  If they could just get her warm.

  The water steamed as it splashed into the tub. “Not that hot,” Alan murmured, and Kyle moderated the temperature. When the tub was half full, Alan felt the water carefully and then lowered Cassie into it. She gave a small, wordless cry of protest as her arms slid from around his neck. Taking her hand gently, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

  “It’s all right, Cass. I’m not going anywhere.” He raised his head, meeting Kyle’s intent, worried eyes. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  She huddled in the water, still shivering, and Alan saw the muscles in her face unclench, as she let one single tear roll down her pale cheek. That was all right. It was a damn sight better than the frozen panic in her eyes when they’d first entered.

  He reached for the washcloth, then stopped abruptly, gazing down at the full, round curves of her breasts, the little pink nubs at their tips poking just out of the water. Her white panties, which he hadn’t bothered to strip off her, had gone nearly translucent as the water soaked them, and he could see the swell of her mons beneath them, the soft ash-brown curls trapped beneath the fabric.

  His cock was thickening inside his jeans, and Alan realized his hands were shaking. Roughly, he thrust the washcloth at Kyle. “You do it.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get her something to eat. She’s too thin.” Alan paused at the door, looking back. There were shadows beneath her eyes, and her hair, wet and stringy, straggled down around her wan face. But she was beautiful. She was so beautiful…

  He swallowed, feeling his groin throb with urgency, his cock straining to stand straight inside his pants. Down, boy, he told himself sharply. It didn’t help. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it a moment, struggling to moderate the furnace-like heat in his balls.

  It was hopeless. Oh sure, he’d seen naked women before. God knew Kyle and he had watched enough porn flicks together over the years. But the sight of Cassie, Cassie, naked before him, water pooling in the delectable cleft between her breasts, had practically been enough to make him come in his pants.

  Patience, Iago, he thought, and chuckled ruefully. Thank God she wanted both of them, because right now he felt ready to tear Kyle limb from limb just for one single taste of the sweet nectar between her thighs.

  But she did want both of them.

  At once? Th
e thought whispered in his mind, and Alan froze as the implications hit him, feeling the fire inside him redouble as images unfolded in his imagination, images of Cassie between them, beneath them, reaching out for both of them at once…

  His throat made a small, dry clicking sound as he swallowed again. Taking a deep breath, Alan forced his eyes to focus, steeled himself to endure the ache in his crotch and went downstairs to find Cassie something to eat.

  Chapter Five

  Cassie huddled in the tub, her knees drawn up against her chest, staring blindly at the engagement ring on her finger as Kyle washed her back.

  God, what must he think of her? She’d made love with him, wantonly, practically forcing him to fuck her—and she’d been engaged the whole time. She hadn’t even had the decency to tell him.

  And you know why, she thought grimly. Because he wouldn’t have done it. He would have stopped if he’d known.

  Tears ran down her cheeks, as warm as the bath water. Selfish! Selfish! her mind screamed, and she had no defense against it. She’d gotten involved with Richard—had almost married him—because her exhausted heart had been so full of grief and pain she’d honestly thought she couldn’t bear it one second longer. And the fact that he was a perfectly decent man only made it worse.

  He deserves better, she thought, knowing it was true. He deserves someone who loves him.

  The sparkling diamond doubled, then trebled, then split into a hundred gleaming prisms in her tear-washed sight. Its size no longer struck her as ostentatious, but rather as a measurement of the enormity of her sins. She folded her right hand over her left, hiding it, and the stone dug into her palm like a guilty secret.

  Her throat clenched and she bit her lip, trying to contain her sobs. But her shoulders shook, betraying her, and Kyle’s hand paused on her back.

  “Cass?”

  His voice, so deep, so gentle, shattered her self-restraint. For the second time in one day, Kyle pulled her into his arms, heedless of her wet hair soaking his shirt or the water sloshing onto the floor, holding her while she cried.

  “I…I don’t love him, Ky. I never did. I was just…just…”

  “You were just lonely,” he murmured, his lips brushing her hair. “I know.”

  “I hurt him. I hurt him, and he doesn’t even know. I…” She trailed off, gulping against her tears, and felt Kyle’s body stiffen slightly, a subtle tension running through his limbs.

  “Are you still going to marry him?”

  She shook her head wordlessly. Then she mumbled against his chest, “He deserves better than me.”

  “Don’t you say that!” The sternness in Kyle’s tone made her flinch. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her to look up at him. His silver-blue eyes stared into hers intently. “Don’t you say that. We all make mistakes. We all do things we… Ah, Christ!” He broke off in frustration, his gaze searching the tiled corners as if hunting for guidance. Letting her go, he sat on the rim on the tub and took off his hat, running his hands distractedly through his short, wavy hair.

  “Cass, don’t you know the only reason Alan and I ever turned to each other was because we both wanted you so much?”

  What? She stared at him, the tears shocked right out of her. He looked at her, his eyes so full of grief and guilt and yearning that she could only stare dumbly.

  Don’t you know the only reason Alan and I…

  The blood drained from her face, but at the same time she could feel two small spots blazing high on her cheekbones.

  The only reason Alan and I…

  Alan had kissed her forehead, she remembered. Even as cold and out of it as she’d been, she’d felt him do that—but it didn’t mean anything, surely? He’d only been taking care of her, the way he and Kyle had always taken care of her, ever since she could remember.

  Alan and I…

  Darkness seemed to bloom around her, and she shut her eyes, her head whirling. Behind her eyelids she saw again the sharp planes and angles of Alan’s face at twenty-one, his voice hoarse with need as he whispered, Please, Ky. I can’t wait any longer.

  Not even for an instant had she guessed he might be talking about her.

  Cassie’s mind reeled, recalling how she’d masturbated in the ladies’ room at Big Blue’s, so horny all it had taken was one good, firm stroke to send her over the edge…

  She hadn’t been able to wait either.

  She could feel Kyle by her right shoulder, a constant, sturdy presence. She had no trouble understanding how Alan had leaned on that sweet, generous nature, taking solace in it as she herself had. The bathroom door opened and Alan came in, stopping short in his tracks as he looked up from the tray he was carrying and met her gaze.

  To Cassie, it was as if everything around them had disappeared, leaving them together in some timeless, airless void, tethered together by that one single look. For the first time, she noticed the tiny lines around Alan’s eyes, the few strands of silver in his raven black hair.

  He had waited for her. They both had.

  And they’d waited quite long enough.

  A damp, secret warmth unfolded deep inside her. “Take me to bed,” she commanded, her voice husky with desire. “Take me to bed, both of you. Now.”

  The tray crashed to the floor. With a harsh, ragged groan, Alan stumbled to his knees and lifted her from the tub.

  Kyle fetched a quilt from the bedroom and wrapped her in it after toweling her dry. His eyes kept meeting hers shyly as he peeled off her wet panties, and he patted her ass cheeks playfully with the towel, making her laugh. Then he wrapped her in the quilt and stepped back, letting Alan, who’d watched all this stolidly, scoop her up to carry her to the bedroom.

  Cassie let her head drop against Alan’s shoulder, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around her. It reminded her of the way Kyle had held her when she’d gotten hysterical—had it really been only that afternoon? But unlike with Kyle, Cassie could tell fighting Alan would be useless, even if she was inclined to try. Something in the way he held her told her unmistakably that he was never going to let her go.

  She sighed contentedly, letting herself trace idle circles on his chest—he’d shed his sodden shirt as Kyle had dried her—and enjoying the anticipatory heat in her cunt. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined having both of them at once. Oh, she’d fantasized about them separately as a girl, kissing first one, then the other, in the sweaty darkness of her single bed. Later, she’d even imagined them making love without her, the picture sliding into her unwilling brain with a regularity which had horrified her even as it made her clit throb with longing.

  But this? Never.

  God, even my fantasies are prudes, she thought, and giggled. Alan looked down at her, a small smile curving his lips. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Kyle, shrugged and opened the bedroom door. Cassie had to stifle another giggle as he carried her to the bed—Kyle had obviously done more while he was in here than simply fetch a quilt. The closet door had been kicked shut. A tangle of clothes that had lain atop a dresser was conspicuous by its sudden absence. And the sheets were now miraculously wrinkle-free, turned down neatly below freshly plumped pillows.

  Oh God. She watched the hard, lean muscles in Alan’s shoulders flex as he set her down. Behind him, Kyle stood, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. She was nervous herself—how did one go about making love to two men at once?—but the heat in their eyes entranced her. She remembered how powerless she’d felt as a girl, biting her lip as she struggled to hide the arousal aching through her developing body, always convinced it was only she who felt this way, only she who wanted them…

  Now, the hunger in their eyes gave her a sense of power she’d never before experienced. Thrusting aside her own nervousness, she slid the blanket from her body and smiled lazily as their eyes widened.

  Alan had straightened after he’d set her down, standing at the side of the bed by her hip, while Kyle h
ad stopped in the middle of the room, his hat clasped in his hands. He was fidgeting with it, bending the brim this way and that, his gaze flicking to her naked body, then rapidly away.

  She laughed. “If you don’t stop that, you’re going to ruin it.” Kyle looked down, startled, and Cassie laughed again. Grinning, he tossed it onto the dresser as if to say, Now what?

  Cassie looked up at Alan. Unlike Kyle, he was staring at her fixedly, drinking in the sight of her curves. She could see the ridge of his erection inside his jeans and reached toward it wonderingly, rubbing her hand across it.

  His breathing deepened, and his eyelids drooped. She caressed the hard bulge, trying to picture it—would it be as thick as Kyle’s? As long? Longer? Her nipples tightened at the thought.

  Kyle watched her now, his gaze pinned to the motion of her hand. She trailed her fingers over the heavy leather of Alan’s belt, placing her palm flat against the taut, warm plane of his belly. There was a whorl of soft black curls just below his belly button, and she toyed with them, enjoying the way his entire body quivered under that small touch. Then she reached up with her other hand, undoing the buckle of his belt.

  “Jesus,” Kyle whispered, and she glanced over at him. He was panting, his eyes as huge as marbles.

  Cassie smiled. “Take off your shirt.” His fingers shook as he undid the buttons and pulled it off, then peeled off the T-shirt underneath. Cassie ran her fingers lightly over Alan’s bulge as she watched. “Now everything else.”

  With a quick glance at Alan, Kyle sat on the edge of the bed. Cassie reached down with her foot, caressing his back as he did so, feeling the heat inside her coil up another notch.

  God! When did Kyle get so big?

  He’d always been tall, shooting up like a sprout months before Alan had started getting his growth. There’s been a full year where he’d towered over both of them. Now his body had filled out, gaining a solid layer of muscle. His back was broad, the twin columns of muscle along the spine standing out clearly, and his deltoids flexed as he yanked off first one boot, then the other, and stood facing away from her as he unbuckled his jeans.