by A. T Brennan
Hearing them come was all I needed and my orgasm exploded out of my body, my release streaking my dress shirt as I shot all the way up to my shoulder.
“Oh god.” Isaac gasped. “Wow.”
“Yeah. That was... wow,” Cody agreed, his voice confident and strong for once.
“It really was.” I groaned as I let go of my now flaccid dick and leaned back against my pillows.
“Well, I think we all need to take a moment to clean up. But maybe we could do this again, soon?” Isaac asked hopefully.
“I’d like to.”
I smiled as Cody answered before I could ask if he’d be okay with that.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Both men laughed and we quickly said our goodbyes.
After ending the call I climbed off my bed and headed into my bathroom, stripping off my soiled shirt and tossing it in the hamper as I went.
Even if we couldn’t see each other all the time, it was nice to know there were other ways to stay connected, and help Cody expand his comfort zone.
Chapter Ten
Cody
“Fucking hell.”
“What?” I glanced over at Rhys and grinned.
“I’m way too tired to deal with drunken idiots tonight.” He rolled his eyes as two men hip bumped each other as they tried to get a spot at the bar so they could order drinks. “Remind me again why we don’t have wait staff?”
“Because it’s my bar and this is the way I run things.” Evan put his hand up and I tossed him the bottle opener I was holding as I scooped ice into a tumbler with my other hand.
“Dude, it’s Friday night. You thought it would be quiet?” I raised my eyebrow at Rhys and added a shot of whiskey and then cola to the glass I was holding.
“No, but I didn’t sleep for shit last night and I’m tired.” Rhys turned his attention to the customers in front of him and I did the same.
I was halfway through my shift and I had to admit that I was tired too. I had no idea why Rhys wasn’t sleeping, but I’d been kept awake by both nightmares and fantasies.
During the waking hours my thoughts were consumed with Isaac and Jonah. I thought about everything from simply eating a meal together to watching them as Jonah had taken Isaac’s bottoming virginity.
That had been the single hottest moment of my life, and I couldn’t get the images out of my head. Jonah had been so gentle with Isaac when he’d needed it, prepping him so thoroughly and then taking his time entering him. He’d known when to change and get a bit rough, and Isaac had loved every second of it.
As I’d watched them I’d gotten harder than I ever had in my life, and my body had been screaming at me to come, but I’d held off. I’d wanted to see the entire encounter, and I’d wanted to be part of it on some level.
Even after they were done and spent, they’d turned their attention on me and welcomed me into the bed with them so I could jerk off. It had been hot and I’d come harder than I ever had, but it was the fact that they’d both touched me, connecting all three of us, that had been the most incredible part.
I wanted more. Holy hell, I wanted so much more, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it. I wanted to feel both of them inside me, to know what it would be like to be completely possessed by them, and bottoming for Isaac was quickly becoming the number one thing I thought about when I had a few minutes to spare. I wanted Jonah there too, but in my fantasy it was my lips wrapped around his cock that made us a unit of three.
I was distracted to the point of obsession and I actually welcomed the busy night so I could shut my brain down and focus on making drinks and counting change. It was simple, repetitive and I could work off muscle memory, because no matter how much I wanted to be with both of my men, the nightmares were back.
They’d started when I was nine, after the first time I’d been pimped out. I hadn’t understood what was happening in the moment, and even after I couldn’t comprehend that I’d been raped.
Then it started to happen on a regular basis, and every time my mom’s beeper went off, I’d known what was going to happen and who was going to knock on our door.
I’d stopped begging and crying for my mom to help me after the fourth time. She’d either been too strung out and high to notice, or her eyes were blank as she watched me being pulled out of our apartment. It was like she was watching me go to the store to pick up milk, there’d been no emotion in her eyes.
As the abuse continued, the nightmares had gotten worse. Each time something new happened to me, it was added to the library of my shame and humiliation. I knew the videos that had been taken of me were up on the internet, and it was another reason I was still afraid to look at porn.
Once I’d ended up in foster care the nightmares had continued, and one in particular had haunted me. It always started the same way. I’d be in my old apartment begging Mom to save me, to stop him from taking me. Mom would just look away and pick up her meth pipe. Hands would drag me out of the apartment and I’d be in that shitty hotel room I’ll never be able to forget.
The tacky red and orange bedspread, the stained beige carpet. The heavy yellowed drapes and that godawful scenic painting over the bed that had become my focal point every time someone would take me from behind. I’d pick a spot in the landscape and focus on the details of the paint. Each little swirl in the texture, the subtle shift in colors as they were blended, and when that didn’t work I’d try to read the signature in the bottom corner. To this day I still had no idea who had painted the monstrosity.
In my dream I’d see a video camera floating around the room, a spotlight on me that was so bright it made my skin feel hot. His voice was ordering me to take it and stop crying like a baby, while some random voice told me over and over again how good I was as it felt like my ass was on fire and my body was being ripped in half.
Then my mom would be there. Her eyes open and glassy as she lay on the bed beside me. I’d call out to her, knowing she was dead, begging for help. But no one ever helped me.
I always woke up in a sweat, screaming and thrashing about. It was another reason my foster parents would send me back. I was not only skittish and afraid of everything, I’d wake up two or three times a week with that fucking nightmare and disturb the house.
The nightmares had lessened after I’d started therapy at Open Arms, and now they only hit me when I was overtired or something happened to trigger them.
I hated that the beautiful moment Jonah, Isaac and I had shared was a trigger, but the nightmare had come back that same night after I’d gone to sleep, and I’d had it again after our phone sex experiment.
After spending most of the day in bed trying to catch up on some sleep and faking a headache so I wouldn’t have to talk to Isaac, I’d realized that it wasn’t the actual sex that I was afraid of, it was the nightmares.
I trusted Isaac and Jonah, and I’d seen how kind and giving they were in bed. I knew they’d never hurt me and that they’d do everything in their power to ease me into things. The thought of being with them was exciting, but it was the fear of what would happen after I fell asleep that was really holding me back, and I hated that I was letting my fear control me again.
“Cody?”
I jumped at the sound of my name and glanced over at Evan, my boss and savior.
Okay, maybe savior was a bit hero-worshippy, but that’s truly how I felt about the man.
Evan had come to Open Arms as part of the work placement program. He’d given Blaze a job the year before, despite his history of abusing drugs and alcohol, and his time on the streets.
I hadn’t been old enough to tend bar, but Evan had met with me. I’d been shy and had a hard time looking him in the eye, but I’d managed to answer his questions. I’d had no idea he owned a bar or was looking for help, all the job manager at the shelter had said was that Evan wanted to talk to some of the older kids about their plans for the future.
He’d offered me a job on the spot, saying I could train to tend bar
and bus tables until I turned twenty-one. I’d been so floored I hadn’t been able to answer him, and he’d given me a kind smile and told me to call the bar if I wanted the job.
It had taken me three days to get up the nerve to accept. Once I was working I would have to move out of the shelter, but knew I wasn’t ready to live on my own. I knew how to cook and do all the things that adults did, but I was scared to be independent.
I’d taken a leap of faith, praying I would be able to handle it, and accepted the job.
On my first meeting with Evan at the bar he’d introduced me to Blaze and Layla. Blaze and I had quickly become friends since we shared similar histories and were only two years apart in age, and Layla had become the mother I’d lost long before the drugs had killed her.
As the day manager Layla had taken over my training, and setting me up for life as an adult. She’d helped me start a bank account, had taught me about interest and bills and budgeting, had taken me shopping and helped me learn how to buy things on sale and get the most out of my money, and she’d taught me about simple things like how to file taxes and calculating a tip.
A month after I’d started working Layla had offered to let me come live with her until I felt ready to be on my own. She had a spare room in her apartment and made it clear that we were going to be roommates and she wasn’t going to take care of me. She was going to help me learn to take care of myself.
Layla was the only person at The Den who knew my entire story. I’d told Evan most of it, including being pimped out to pay for my mom’s drugs and about bouncing around the system. I’d also told Blaze about what had happened to me after he’d admitted to prostituting himself to survive while living on the street, but there was a lot I’d kept back.
I couldn’t have hidden the truth from Layla if I’d tried.
My first night in her place I’d had another one of my nightmares. It had been so bad Layla had had to pin me down and scream at me to break me free from its hold. She’d been wonderful, talking to me and soothing me until I’d calmed down, but when it had happened again that night, and for the next three nights, I’d decided to tell her everything.
She’d been incredible. Like Evan and Blaze she hadn’t judged me, she’d just patted my hand and told me that nothing would ever change how she felt about me. Then she’d slept in my room for a week on a sleeping bag next to my bed so I wouldn’t be alone.
I owed her and Evan everything, and I couldn’t help seeing them as pseudo parents.
“You’re pouring doubles,” Evan said, breaking me free of my musings as he nodded to the bar gun in my hand.
“Shit, sorry, Ev.”
“It’s okay, just try to not give my livelihood away for free.” He winked to take the sting out of his words and I nodded sheepishly.
Evan normally didn’t work the bar, but it was busy enough he’d come to help Rhys and I out. We were at full strength tonight with Rhys and I behind the bar, Blaze running the kitchen orders and Tristan and Zander doing clean up and helping Blaze when they could.
I focused on what I was doing, trying to shake every other thought out of my head so I stopped fucking up.
* * * * *
“Goddamn that was insane.” Rhys flopped onto one of the bar stools as Evan put six glasses on the counter and began filling them with our preferred drinks.
“What the hell was that group?” Blaze asked as he sat on my other side. “And why were they dressed like that?”
“Some sort of role-playing guild, like wizards and stuff would be my guess.” Tristan leaned against the counter and stretched his legs.
“The only roleplay I like is in the bedroom.” Rhys grinned.
“I can only imagine the shit you’re into.” Zander rolled his eyes.
“I bet you spend a lot of time ‘imagining’ it.” Rhys winked at Zander and we all chuckled.
“Yeah, not a chance. Sorry, but you’re not my type.”
“Yeah, Zander likes his guys pocket sized,” Blaze quipped as he bumped his shoulder against Zander’s and the rest of us laughed. It was no secret that Zander had a thing for men who were short and thin, which was interesting considering he was over six-feet and built like an athlete. He was also incredibly handsome with dark brown hair, angular features and perpetual stubble that was sexy as hell.
“Fuck you.”
“Well, Rhys doesn’t even have a type so he really isn’t one to judge.” Tristan nodded his thanks to Evan as he slid a beer over to him.
Tristan was a bit of an enigma. He didn’t really talk about himself or his past, and all I really knew about him was that he was ex-military and had been injured overseas. He was also quiet and reserved around people he didn’t know, but once he trusted you he opened up and would defend you to the death, of that I was sure. It was something we had in common. He was also hot with his dark brown hair, slightly olive toned skin and long and lean body. I knew he was a gym rat, and he and Rhys worked out religiously together. They were also closer than brothers, despite their opposite personalities.
“I do so have a type. Male. That’s a type.” Rhys grinned. “Thanks, man.” He accepted the beer Evan handed him with a smile.
Rhys looked like the typical All-American football player, which he had been. His short blond hair and piercing blue eyes, not to mention his traditionally handsome good looks and linebacker body, garnered him plenty of attention. He could sweet talk and charm anyone, male or female. It was a skill of his I envied.
“Slut,” Blaze teased as he took the soda Evan had poured for him. As an alcoholic Blaze hadn’t had a drink since he’d gone through rehab over two years ago.
“And proud of it.” Rhys raised his glass in a mock toast.
Evan chuckled as he slid my rum and cola toward me, and took a drink of his whiskey and Coke.
It was true that I thought of Evan as a dad figure, but I could objectively say he was hot as fuck. With his tall, athletic frame and super broad shoulders he looked bigger than six feet. His perpetually sun-kissed skin tone, soulful brown eyes and chestnut brown hair gave him a youthful but still rugged look. He was the epitome of sexy, and while he might be twice my age, he didn’t look older than thirty-five. The only thing that gave away Evan’s real age were his eyes. They were warm and inviting when he was talking to someone he cared about, but otherwise they were guarded and weary. I didn’t know what had happened to him, but it was obvious he’d been hurt and still carried that burden.
This was one of my favorite parts of working at the bar, just sitting around and hanging out with my friends as we enjoyed a drink and decompressed from our shift. We didn’t get many opportunities to hang out as a complete group outside of work since the bar was open seven days a week, so we made time when we could.
“So where’s that sexy lawyer of yours?” Zander asked, a grin tugging at his lips when Blaze flushed. “I thought he’d be picking you up to take you home. Seeing as you live together now.”
“What?” Tristan looked over at Blaze.
“Seriously?” Rhys pulled his drink from his lips and almost spilled it as he turned to Blaze.
“Congratulations.” Evan held his drink out and Blaze gently clinked it with his.
“Thanks.”
I sat back as the guys started grilling Blaze about his new living arrangement, just enjoying the friendly and familiar banter.
The conversation evolved and changed, and I found myself relaxing. After so many years alone and having no one to rely on, it was nice to spend time with the men who had become my family.
When we finished our drinks, Tristan stayed behind with Evan to finish closing up and the rest of us drifted away. Blaze and Rhys headed to their cars and I went with Zander since he’d offered to drive me home.
By the time I was inside my apartment exhaustion had set in. I managed to kick off my shoes and strip off my clothes, but didn’t bother brushing my teeth or putting on my pajamas before I fell into bed.
Hopefully I was tired enough I woul
dn’t dream and the nightmares would leave me alone tonight.
* * * * *
I hadn’t had any nightmares, but that didn’t mean I’d slept well.
I’d tossed and turned all night, waking up from fevered sex dreams with my cock trying to impersonate a steel rod. I’d jacked off twice during the night, and then again when I’d woken up. I didn’t remember all of my dreams, but two of them had stuck with me, and they were the reason I hadn’t been able to keep my hand off my dick.
In the first I’d been lying on Jonah’s bed while he and Isaac knelt at my hips. They were running their tongues over my cock in tandem, pausing to kiss every time they reached my tip. After a few minutes of teasing me, Jonah had swallowed my cock down to the back of his throat while Isaac had teased my balls with his fingers. When Jonah had popped off a second later, Isaac had swallowed me. They’d continued to share me, taking turns feasting on me, and when I’d woken up my balls had been tight and the tingling at the base of my spine had been painful. It had taken exactly four tugs on my shaft and I’d come so hard I’d shot over my shoulder and a rope of cum had hit my ear.
That dream wasn’t exactly new, but the intensity of it had been. I’d always seen it in a detached way, enjoying them but not feeling anything. That had changed.
The second dream had been the most risqué thing I’d ever dreamed about. Even in my sex dreams, I was never penetrated or penetrating someone else. I was all about the mutual masturbation or rubbing dicks, but never fucking. That had also changed.
Isaac had been on top of me, his cock sliding in and out of my ass as he held me close. Jonah had been behind Isaac, fucking him. We’d been a mess of sweaty limbs and grunting voices, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever imagined.
I’d woken up halfway to my orgasm and had barely had enough time to pull the sheet down to expose my dick before I was shooting my load.
I’d never been so aroused by anything in my life, and I was sure I’d die of dehydration if I kept thinking about what Jonah, Isaac and I could do together.
I didn’t know if I was ready to have sex, or if I’d ever be able to accept someone into my body, but I was finally able to imagine it. Hopefully that meant I was making progress.
