“You with us?” Nathan asked, his gaze boring into Luke.
“Yes, Sir,” Luke answered and looked back to Olivia. She moaned as she met Luke’s gaze, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Luke lowered himself to kiss her lips briefly before he plunged into her tight sheath.
“Fuck her slowly, Luke. Keep both yourself and her on the edge.”
Luke obeyed, not just because Nathan insisted, but because Luke also wanted this moment to last. He needed to remember the look on Olivia’s face in order to get himself through any tough times he might face ahead.
When Nathan set a hand on Luke’s lower back, stilling him with the touch, Luke inhaled sharply. He knew what was coming. Hell, he’d basically asked for it without using words the second he’d entered the house. He wanted Nathan’s cock inside him. His body shook with the need consuming him to be filled by Nathan while Luke fucked Olivia’s pussy.
Luke took deep breaths, his gaze holding Olivia’s.
She smiled, her hands landing on his biceps and rubbing up and down, soothing him. She too knew what was about to happen.
And then Nathan was right there at Luke’s tight entrance, lubing up his hole with thick fingers. His cock pressed against the sensitive puckered skin. Nathan lowered his voice as he spoke. “Just relax, baby. I’m going to make it so good.” He set one hand on Luke’s hip. The other probably held his cock.
As Nathan slid in the first few inches, Luke tensed.
“Deep breaths. Don’t tighten up. It will hurt less if you remain loose. Let it happen.”
Luke screamed inside his head. Let it happen? Wasn’t that what he was doing?
Nathan thrust in and out, each time entering the slightest bit deeper until he was fully seated, his balls brushing against Luke’s. “There. God, Luke. You’re so fucking tight. Amazing.” He gripped both of Luke’s hips then and thrust a few more times while Luke closed his eyes at the intensity of the sensation. He was so overwhelmed he almost couldn’t bring himself to move. So fucking good. So much more than he’d imagined.
“Thrust with me, Luke. Take Livi’s pussy while I claim your ass.” Nathan’s voice was strained. The conviction he’d maintained for the last half hour was slipping, letting Luke know the man was close to coming.
Luke met Olivia’s gaze again, opening his eyes enough to see her face and learn where she was mentally. She was close. She had trouble holding his gaze, and her fingers gripped him tighter. When she lifted her pussy up to meet his thrusts, her mouth fell open.
Luke thrust faster, Nathan following his lead. The change in pace pushed Luke over the edge. He pushed one final thrust into Olivia’s tight warmth, praying she would somehow tumble over the precipice with him. Luke’s cock jerked inside her sheath, his orgasm so hard it almost hurt. The pleasure of his dick pulsing out his come with Nathan buried deep in his rear was unprecedented. It was too much sensation, and for a second he seemed to separate from his body and hover above the scene, watching as Olivia shattered around his cock, her channel gripping him in rhythm with his own pulsing orgasm.
Minutes later, Nathan followed, his dick buried to the hilt inside Luke’s ass.
Luke felt himself clench involuntarily around Nathan’s cock, his tight hole gripping the man behind him, milking him.
Nathan let out a yell, so unlike him. “Fuck.” The one word encompassed so much emotion no one bothered to speak again for several moments.
They collapsed onto the mattress, Nathan slipping out of Luke’s ass to land half on and half off the two people beneath him.
For an interminable minute, Luke fought just to breathe. His ears rang as though they’d been in a noisy club for the last hour, listening to the rowdy music of a band. He followed Nathan’s lead and pulled the condom off, placing it inside a tissue on the side table before turning back to his two lovers. It took him a long time to finally get his tongue to move. He licked his lips and uttered the one word he’d known he would say since before he’d come to the apartment to request this scene. “Moisture.”
Chapter Eleven
Nathan jerked upright. Did Luke just use his out clause word? Olivia turned over and blinked glassy eyes at Luke.
“Did you…?” Nathan started.
“Coño. Fuck. Luke, baby, that’s the out-clause word. You’re not supposed to use it because it’s gross. Even if you do have my juices dribbling all over your cock. You don’t use that word. You say, ‘Holy shit, Olivia, your pussy is wet’ or something like that. Okay, baby?”
Luke shook his head. “I know what it means. I know when I’m supposed to use it.”
Nathan could not wrap his brain around what was happening. Could not. Luke. His Luke. Their Luke. The one who had just given Nathan his ass in the most intense fuck of Nathan’s life, was going to out clause himself from them.
“But…”
Nathan shook his head. “Livi. It’s no questions asked. He said the word. He wants to be released from us.”
Olivia vaulted from the bed and started pacing, muttering in Spanish in a way he hadn’t heard from her in years. She usually only used her Spanish to turn him on. But it was like some weird instinct kicked in and she remembered every swear word her mother ever screamed at her and her siblings. “No me jodas. De puta madre.” She flung her hands out and watched Luke as he pulled his clothes on.
Nathan couldn’t speak. His mind echoed her words. “Do not fuck with me. Son of a bitch.” The lump in the back of his throat was enormous. Luke was leaving them. Their Luke.
Nathan rose from the bed and tugged on a pair of jeans. “I almost died as a baby. I was born too early. Always wanting to be first to the party, I guess.” He released a soft laugh. “I weighed just over two pounds at birth. The doctors told my parents to prepare themselves. They tried not to love me. Then when I actually made it, they loved me too much. So certain all the time that I was going to kick it at any second. I had to do nothing in their home. I didn’t have to work for anything. I could treat them like complete shit and they forgave me because my life was a miracle. On the outside, we were the perfect family. And I was the miracle baby. But on the inside, they left me completely unprepared for the world.”
Luke stopped lacing up his shoes and stared at Nathan. “You seem to have done fine.”
Nathan shrugged. “Because I stopped worrying so much. Because I took what I wanted and didn’t care about who I was supposed to be. But I know who I’m supposed to be now. I don’t believe in God, you know? I think it’s all crap. I think it’s just another set of guidelines to make us feel bad about ourselves. To me, we have one life. One. We can choose to make of it what we will.”
Luke started retying his shoes. “I don’t believe that.”
Nathan blinked. “Evidently.”
Luke stood and stared between Nathan and Olivia for a long time. Olivia paused her pacing and held her breath. “Thank you,” Luke said finally. “Thank you for being kind to me. I want nothing more than for the two of you to be happy.”
Olivia pushed forward until she was right up to his chest. “If you wanted that, you wouldn’t have just dropped your out clause word into the middle of the best sex of our lives.” Then she spun and headed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Luke looked at Nathan. “I’m sorry.”
Nathan bit his tongue, stopping himself from saying anything, from begging Luke to stay. That’s what the out clause was for. To prevent pleading and begging. Fucking hell. Nathan had been stupid to give it to Luke. The kid needed to talk out all his shit like no one Nathan had ever seen. But he chose the coward’s way out.
Luke exited the room and Nathan slumped on the bed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. From the bathroom, he heard Olivia’s loud wail. He forced himself to get up and go to her. This shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. It shouldn’t. But it did.
•●•
Luke threw up twice on the bike ride home. The first when he thought of Nathan’s words and how he almost died as
a baby. And the second when he went over a bump and the delicious soreness in his ass made him realize everything he’d just walked away from.
Without completely being aware where he was headed, he found himself at the cemetery where his mom’s grave was. He parked his bike along the fence and walked toward her headstone. Rachel Anders, Beloved Mother. She never told him about his dad. She told him it was her choice to keep him as a baby. That Luke’s birth father had made a choice of his own. Luke didn’t mind it just being the two of them, him and his mom. Even when she got sick, he never felt unloved. But now, as he stood looking at her name etched into the stone, a paralyzing loneliness overtook him and he buckled to his knees.
“I don’t have anyone anymore, Mom,” he said out loud. “No one to take care of, no one to take care of me.”
And it’s my own fault. He’d given up the first two people in the world he’d ever felt at ease with, and for what? For some misplaced religious guilt? Was it even misplaced at all? Maybe his instincts were right. Maybe he needed to break off the relationship once and for all and get himself right with God. Maybe Father George had it all right, and Luke needed to assess his priorities.
Was he some sort of perverted sex addict? Nathan didn’t seem to think so. Neither did Julian for that matter, or anyone else who lived an alternative lifestyle. But Luke worried it was consuming him—this constant need to fuck and be fucked in every way possible. That’s all it was with Nathan and Olivia. His own living porn. Right?
Perhaps that wasn’t it either. He’d grown so fond of both of them that he wanted to be with them all the time. Not even strictly sexually. Sometimes he wanted to simply hang with them, eat, watch TV, sleep. They had done that together. And it felt comfortable in a way nothing in his life ever had. But neither of them had really slipped into a role with Luke that didn’t involve fucking. Right? He’d hurt their feelings when he’d insinuated as much at his office that day, but how much of it was true? Had he given them a chance really? A chance to prove they could be his everything? Wasn’t it his own fault they hadn’t connected on a deeper level because he’d kept them at arm’s length? He’d built a wall around himself that sheltered him from the world. They didn’t ask about the difficult things in his life, but was it because they were trying to protect him from that? He told Olivia they’d talk after, but before they could, he’d used his out clause word.
A chill raced down his spine. Tears fell down his cheeks. It was entirely possible he’d sabotaged the relationship all by himself by not giving Nathan and Olivia a chance to be what he needed. Instead, he’d chewed them out for not caring, barged into their home, and demanded intense sex. How could he blame them? He was an emotional mess.
He traced his fingers along his mother’s name. “Do you understand what it’s like? Do you understand what it’s like to know you could disappear and it wouldn’t make a goddamn bit of difference to anyone?”
His gut clenched. Nathan and Olivia. He’d let them go. He’d used his out clause, and they were true to their words and didn’t fight. No questions asked. Just Nathan’s strange story about nearly dying and knowing who he was supposed to be, and Olivia’s face full of so much sorrow Luke thought he’d never forget it.
“It would make a difference to me,” a voice said from behind him. Father George. Holding a handful of white lilies. “I missed you when you stopped attending church. I would miss you if you disappeared.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, I expect. I came to talk to your mom. Six months to the day. We must have had the same thought. The last time you and I spoke, it didn’t go so well, so I thought your mom might help me.” Father George shrugged.
“She can’t help either of us,” Luke choked out. “No one can help me.”
“I can.”
Luke shrugged. “That’s your job. You’re supposed to help. I wish…”
“What?”
“I wish someone would help because they wanted to. Because they thought I was worth it.”
Father George placed the flowers on his mother’s grave and turned to Luke, taking a seat on the grass next to him. “I do want to help. And not because it’s my job. Because you’re worth something to me. You always have been.”
Luke blinked.
Father George looked toward the gravestone. “She didn’t want me to say anything. She was right, of course. It was a choice for both of us and nothing I could blame her for.”
Luke’s heart thrummed in his chest. “A choice? What are you talking about?”
“I met your mom in seminary. Before I took my final vows. We were…well, I loved her. I almost left it all for her. But I was called. I couldn’t… God, the church, they needed me more.”
“More than what?”
Father George turned his gaze on Luke. “More than you.”
Luke’s breath stalled out. Spots formed in front his vision as pieces locked themselves into place in his brain. “I’m…? You and my mom?”
Father George nodded. “Yes. You’re my son. I’ve always looked out for you. I’ve always done the best I could for you. The most I could, without drawing attention. Your mom didn’t want that for you or her.”
Luke couldn’t believe it. He froze momentarily before a lance of anger speared through him, launching him to his feet. “Or you. You didn’t want to deal with having a son. You took vows of chastity. How would that look to the rest of the church? This had nothing to do with me or my mom. You fumbled, you strayed, you went off the path that God had intended for you. Isn’t that what you said to me? That Nathan and Olivia weren’t part of God’s plan?”
“Luke…” Father George rose, looking a hundred years old suddenly.
“No. You’re a hypocrite. Where the hell were you when Mom’s organs were shutting down on her?”
“I saw her in the hospital.”
“Bullshit. You visited once. I was there every single day. I watched my mom die and prayed, like you always told me, for God to give her some relief. Then I prayed for God to give me the same relief. Relief from this shitty life. From the loneliness that practically swallowed me whole. So no. I don’t think I need to hear your excuses or your explanations. I’m good. Have a nice life.”
Father George released a sob, but Luke couldn’t find it in him to care. His entire body was infused with anger. Father George was his father, and had left him and his mom on their own for years. Luke grabbed his bike and raced home, falling through his door and onto his bed before breaking into deep convulsing tears.
He’d lost everything. He’d given up everything that mattered to him over a guilt he carried for the church. And it turned out the priest he’d always believed to be the holiest person he knew had slept with his mother. Fuck fuck fuck. The man he looked up to for answers was his father?
Luke was trapped. Broken, alone, in so much pain, and with no one in the world to go to for help. One stupid word to Nathan and Olivia, and he’d lost everything.
•●•
Luke couldn’t function. He called in sick to work and spent hours lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. Not only had he given up the only people he’d cared about in a long time, but he no longer felt right about returning to the church. He spent Sunday lying in this same spot, trying not to let his guilt eat at him. He couldn’t face Father George. His dad? He couldn’t even swallow that information. Everything in his life was a jumbled mess running around inside his head and driving him mad.
A knock at the door made him flinch. No one ever came to see him. And he didn’t want to face any of the possible choices. Not even Kathryn. Her knowledge about his twisted relationship status made him cringe.
The knocking continued.
Luke rolled to face the wall.
But the visitor was determined. A third set of knocks landed on his door, louder, more insistent.
Finally, Luke heaved himself off the bed and padded to the front of his apartment.
When he opened the d
oor, he indeed found one of the four possible guests he didn’t want to talk to standing in the threshold. Father George.
“Luke. May I come in? Please.” His voice was low, controlled.
“I don’t see what else there is to say.”
“I do.”
Luke rolled his eyes and stepped back. “Fine, but make it quick. I was taking a nap.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to be rude to the priest even under these extreme circumstances. The man had never really done anything to Luke except try to help.
Father George sat on the edge of Luke’s ratty couch. “First of all, I want to say I’m sorry for the way I handled things the other day.”
Luke plopped into the chair across from the priest and said nothing.
Father George swallowed and wiped his hands on his pant legs. Luke had never seen him that nervous. “Listen. I said some things that in retrospect might not have been very helpful to you. I want you to know that in spite of the teachings within the Catholic faith, you’re a child of God, and I believe in my heart God loves you no matter what.
“I also love you, both as a priest and as a father.”
Luke glared at him, unwilling to participate in this speech. He didn’t want to give Father George the satisfaction of thinking he’d turned Luke to his way of thinking. He was all out of politeness.
“I have a suggestion. I know you’re angry with me, and confused in general. I can see this relationship you’ve developed with those two is tearing you apart. And I feel partly to blame for it. I don’t think tossing away something that important to you in the name of religion is a healthy choice.”
Luke sat up straighter. What was Father George trying to say?
“I think you need to work it out, with them, I mean. If you don’t, you’ll always have regrets, and you’ll hate me for being the catalyst that steered you down this path. Even though I don’t agree with your choices, it doesn’t change the fact that I care about you enough to recognize you need to figure things out on your own.”
Paint Page 12
