Finding Me (The Music Within Book 3)

by Faith Gibson

  Andy couldn’t breathe. The beautiful smile on Bryan’s face had stolen his ability to move. To think. His head knew Bryan was straight and didn’t really want him, but his heart was making him see things that weren’t there. Like the fact that Bryan almost kissed him earlier. When Moe ran out the back door barking, the connection was lost, and Andy could breathe again. Curly was right behind his brother, and it looked like both dogs were enjoying their newfound entrance into the house. Neither one of them had caused chaos when they were inside. If anything, they were the picture of perfect animals. Andy had tempted Moe to jump up on the couch while he was watching television, but the dog had sat at his feet thumping his tail. The fact that Mal came down the stairs at that exact moment might have had something to do with it. As much as the dogs loved Andy and Bryan, Mal was the alpha.

  “Are we eatin’ steaks or what?” Mal asked.

  “Yes, we’re eating steaks. Let me put the potatoes in the oven so they can be cooking, then I’ll fire up the grill.”

  “I’ll handle the grilling,” Bryan offered. “I might not be able to cook, but I can work a grill like nobody’s business.” There was that smile again.

  I’d let you work my grill. Andy headed inside to wash potatoes before he made a fool of himself. When he came back outside, Mal had grabbed some hay bales and placed them in the area where Bryan had moved the grill. Andy made a mental note to pick up some lawn chairs next time he went to town. While they were waiting for the charcoal to burn down, Mal brought out a cooler and set it between them. They popped the tops on some longnecks and enjoyed the peacefulness the farm offered.

  “I talked to Mr. Matheson, and he assured me the owner is fine with us buildin’ a deck. Said for me to order the materials and put it on the company account. We just need to figure out how big we want it and go from there.”

  Andy had never built anything in his life. He didn’t know where to start with figuring out how much wood they would need or the type of materials it would take. Bryan stood and walked over to the back of the house. Putting his back to the wall, he measured out the distance Mal suggested using his feet as a tape measure. When he was finished, he put a couple of empty bottles on the ground to show the corners. “That’s roughly twelve by twenty. Plenty big enough for a grill and eventually a table and chairs. What do you think, Lily?”

  Andy imagined the deck in his mind. He could see him and Bryan sitting on a patio set while the steaks cooked on their new gas grill. He pictured them enjoying a sky full of stars while the two of them sat outside together. “It’s perfect.”

  “Mal?”

  Mal nodded. “I agree. I’ll order the materials tomorrow, and we can get started on it before it gets too hot.”

  Andy went inside to check on the potatoes. “Will you grab the steaks while you’re inside?” Bryan asked.

  Andy nodded and returned quickly with the marinated meat and some tongs he found in the utensil drawer. Bryan had already scattered the mound of white charcoal around in the bottom of the grill and was ready when Andy returned. The man hadn’t been lying when he said he could grill. Andy was the one to marinate the beef, but Bryan cooked them to a medium rare perfection. He thought Mal was going to have a foodgasm.

  “This is delicious, even for a store-bought piece of meat. I’ve never had a steak this tender,” he praised.

  “It’s all in how you prepare it,” Andy boasted. Bryan punched him gently in the arm, and Andy laughed. “Okay, maybe it has something to do with how it’s cooked, too, but the secret is adding sugar to the marinade.”

  The past few nights had been a little awkward, leaving Andy out of sorts over his feelings for Bryan, but in that moment, he was comfortable and happy. After the dishes were washed, Andy asked, “How about a game of poker?” There wasn’t a ball game on, and he wasn’t in the mood for a movie. Besides, he was getting good at steeling his facial expressions when his cards were dealt.

  “I’m in,” Bryan said.

  “Sure, I’ll play.” Mal usually opted out, but instead of hiding away in his bedroom or office, he joined the other two men. Since Andy and Bryan had gotten paid, they decided to play for actual money and not the coins from Andy’s change jar. The winnings went back and forth for almost an hour before Mal lost almost two hundred dollars. He graciously bowed out, and that left Andy and Bryan. Feeling courageous, Andy said, “How about we change the stakes?” Andy had gone and done exactly what he vowed not to do – he got Addison’s phone number for Bryan. He’d been pissed at himself afterwards, but then Bryan looked at the piece of paper like it would bite him, giving Andy had an idea. Whether or not it was a good one remained to be seen.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Here we go. “Let’s play strip poker.” Andy kept his eyes on Bryan’s face to gauge his reaction. He was glad he did, because Bryan let his gaze roam down Andy’s body and back up. When he met Andy’s eyes, Bryan was grinning.

  “Okay.”

  Andy wondered if it was the alcohol talking, or if Bryan was looking forward to seeing Andy without his shirt on. Not that they’d had that much to drink. Andy didn’t even have a buzz, not after eating a huge steak and loaded potato. Thinking of buzzes, Andy said, “Hang on.” He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the pantry. He’d never seen Mal drinking liquor, but the seal had been broken, so someone drank the stuff. He probably should have asked permission, but he would replace the bottle next time he was out.

  “Here are the rules. If you lose, you take off whatever piece of clothing the winner chooses, and the winner takes a swig of Jack.”

  Bryan’s grin was cocky. His pile of money was significantly larger than Andy’s. If Bryan kept his winning streak going, he would be clothed, but he’d also be more intoxicated than Andy. Andy had never seen a drunk Bryan, and he hoped this plan didn’t backfire on him.

  “Your deal,” Bryan said.

  Andy shuffled and dealt the first hand. When he saw the aces staring back at him, it was all he could do not to pump his fist in the air. Bryan asked for two cards, so his hand wasn’t stacked. Andy only took one, but it didn’t help his hand. Bidding went back and forth until Bryan said, “Call.”

  Andy laid down three aces, a seven and a nine. Bryan had two pair, but it didn’t beat Andy’s three of a kind. Andy took a swig out of the bottle. He wiped his hand on the back of his hand before saying, “Take your shirt off.”

  Bryan reached behind his head and gripped the neck of his T-shirt. Andy’s eyes were glued to Bryan’s chest, waiting for the reveal. He’d seen the other man’s chest several times, but sitting like this, there was no way he’d be able to avert his eyes. Bryan tossed the shirt to the floor and rubbed a hand across his pecs, making them flex. When Andy looked up, Bryan was smirking. “Like what you see, Lily?” he whispered.

  Andy couldn’t speak, so he nodded and bit his bottom lip. Bryan gathered the cards and began shuffling. With nothing covering his arms, Andy got a good look at Bryan’s biceps and forearm muscles in motion as he dealt the cards. When Bryan cleared his throat, Andy blushed and picked up the waiting hand. Okay, no fist pumping here. He didn’t have shit, but he didn’t want to ask for four cards, because that would be a dead giveaway he had nothing. He asked for three and prayed they were good ones. Nope. He could either bluff his way through and lose some cash, or fold. Either way, Bryan was going to win the hand, and Andy was going to lose some clothes. It was only a shirt, so he folded.

  Bryan grinned, tossed back the whiskey, and said, “Pants.”

  “What?” Andy was already reaching for the hem of his shirt when Bryan surprised him.

  “You heard me. I want you to take your pants off. Don’t tell me you’re shy, Lily. I’ve seen your briefs before. Unless…”

  Unless he was commando, which he wasn’t, thank God. “Shy? Have you met me?” Andy stood and went about removing his jeans. Facing Bryan, Andy slid the button out of its hole and slowly lowered the zipper. He hooked his thumbs
between the denim and the cotton of his underwear and began pushing them down his hips. Grinning, he turned around and finished sliding his jeans down his thighs then his calves. He wiggled his ass slightly until he saw a problem. He still had his fucking boots on. What started off as a sexy tease turned into something much less erotic. Andy plopped down in the chair and struggled getting the tight legs over his boots. Before he could get them all the way off, they got stuck. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he mumbled.

  “Trouble?” Bryan asked, still smirking.

  “Yeah. A little help? You’re the wiseass who wanted the pants off before my boots. Come over here and tug.” If that came out sounding sexual, so be it.

  Bryan stood and rounded the table. Andy held his legs up and leaned back in the chair for balance. Bryan wiggled each pant leg until he was able to get them past Andy’s black boots. He probably should have taken the boots off then put them back on, but this was much more fun. When Bryan had Andy’s jeans free from his legs, he stared at the bare flesh longer than a straight man should.

  “Like what you see?” Andy teased, running a hand over his semi-hard dick. Bryan blushed and returned to his side of the table. Andy never should have touched his cock. It had gone from somewhat erect to a full-blown hard-on in two point five seconds. It was his turn to deal, but his hands were shaking. He grabbed the Jack and took a deep pull, trying to calm his nerves. Whose fucking idea had this been anyway? Oh, right. His.

  Andy won the next hand, and he graciously told Bryan to remove his boots. He couldn’t see under the table anyway. Bryan won the hand after that, and Andy lost his shirt. Bryan won the next one as well, and Andy removed his boots. When they were down to nothing but their underwear, both men were slightly inebriated. Andy didn’t know if he could handle the sight of a naked Bryan, so he thought long and hard about throwing the hand. Long and hard. Andy giggled like a girl at the thought, and Bryan raised his eyebrows.

  “You okay over there, Lily?”

  “Yep. Fine. Perfect.” Liar. Andy was anything but fine. What happened when they were sitting there with nothing on? His dick was already impossibly painful. If he lost this hand, Bryan would have no doubt how he affected Andy. Would that be so bad? What would be worse was when Andy won and Bryan removed his briefs only for Andy to find a limp dick. But if that were the case, at least Andy would know for sure how Bryan felt about him. Every time he looked across the table, Bryan had been studying his hand and not Andy’s body. He had a great body, almost as nice as Bryan’s, but the other man wasn’t staring like Andy was. He just had to play this out, and whatever happened, happened.

  “If you like, we can call it a night,” Bryan offered when Andy still hadn’t dealt the cards. Bryan took another pull from the bottle that was almost empty.

  “Scared, B?”

  Bryan licked his lips and pointed at Andy while still holding the bottle. “Nope. Deal ‘em.” Bryan drank the whiskey down until there was only a small amount of liquid covering the bottom of the bottle. One last sip for the winner.

  Andy shuffled. As he dealt out five cards each, he asked himself what he thought was going to happen after this hand. One of them would be naked, but they were in the middle of Mal’s fucking kitchen. He’d just have to wait and find out if he was willing to make a move, or if Bryan ran and hid in his bedroom.

  When Andy looked at his cards, he was torn. He had two pair. That wasn’t a guaranteed win, but it wasn’t bad. Did he want to throw the game so Bryan could see how hard he was for him? Or did he want to win so he could finally have a visual of the cock he’d been imagining for two weeks? He swapped out one card and let the outcome be whatever the poker fates decided. After going back and forth upping the pot, Andy finally called. They both had two pair, but Bryan had queens and kings where Andy had jacks and nines. Bryan won. Andy was about to show his junk to his best friend.

  Bryan tipped the bottle back, emptying it. He set the bottle down with a thud and pointed. Andy bit his bottom lip. Was he really going to do this? “I think you should do the honors,” he suggested. Bryan’s beautiful eyes darkened and they traveled down Andy’s chest. He couldn’t see Andy’s crotch hidden behind the table, so could he be imagining what he was going to find?

  Bryan pushed the chair back and stood, his hand rubbing down his chest and landing on his brief-covered dick. His dick that was hard. Oh, fuck me. Andy stood when Bryan reached his side. Bryan took his time looking Andy’s body over. He placed his hands on Andy’s chest and lowered his hands, skimming along Andy’s abs, eliciting a full body shiver from Andy. Bryan kept his eyes locked on Andy’s face as his fingers reached the waistband. He slid his hands between the band and Andy’s flesh, closing his eyes as he lowered his fingertips to the globes of Andy’s ass. As he breathed in and out, Andy inhaled the scent of Bryan’s whiskey breath like it was pure oxygen.

  Their faces were so close. If Andy leaned in a half an inch, their lips would be touching. He ached to taste Bryan’s mouth, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. This was Bryan’s win, and it was up to him to set the pace. Bryan opened his eyes, but instead of kissing Andy’s lips, Bryan began moving his hands down Andy’s legs while lowering his face. Bryan placed open mouth kisses on Andy’s neck, his pecs, his abs, and finally the area just above the waist band that was precariously low at that point. When Bryan reached his knees, he pulled Andy’s boxer briefs all the way over his ass, allowing Andy’s cock to spring forward. It wasn’t a huge dick, but Bryan was close enough it almost smacked him in the face.

  Bryan continued lowering Andy’s briefs until they pooled at his ankles. He stepped out of them and held still. Andy was completely bare in front of his best friend. The man he wanted more than his next breath. Bryan placed his hands on the back of Andy’s ankles and made a slow pass up the backs of his legs, letting them settle below his cheeks. Bryan remained motionless, face to rock hard cock. Andy had no idea what Bryan was thinking, or if he was. Bryan’s dick was straining against his underwear, and even though it was covered, Andy could tell that it was longer than his own and much thicker. Thinking about sucking on it had Andy moaning. Bryan snapped his head up at the sound.

  It must have interrupted his thought process, because Bryan stood. Instead of keeping any distance between them, Bryan placed his feet on either side of Andy’s, bringing their bodies together. Andy’s cock was trapped between them, right alongside Bryan’s underwear clad erection. Andy moved slightly, rubbing their dicks together. Bryan hissed, grabbing Andy’s biceps and closing his eyes. Andy took that as permission to keep going, so he put his hands on Bryan’s hips and pulled him closer, adding friction to their dicks. Bryan’s breathing sped up, and Andy was about to blow. He wanted them to come at the same time. Before he could lower Bryan’s briefs and stroke their cocks together, Andy came, his spunk shooting onto Bryan’s stomach. Bryan’s eyes shot open, and he pulled away so quickly Andy didn’t have time to react. Bryan reached down, grabbing a handful of clothes, and disappeared down the hallway.

  What in the ever-loving fuck? Talk about a waste of a good orgasm. One last drop of jizz leaked out of Andy’s softening dick. He slumped down in the chair and cradled his head in his hands. What the fuck? How had something so right gone so incredibly wrong? When Andy raised his head, the first thing he saw was the empty bottle. Liquid courage had turned out to be the enemy. In one orgasmic moment, Bryan had sobered the fuck up, and now, Andy’s throat burned with the sour taste of the alcohol. He threw open the back door and leaned over the porch railing, spewing half a bottle of whiskey and every bit of supper he’d enjoyed hours before.

  With nothing but dry heaves left in his body, Andy straightened up and held onto the rail while his body calmed down. He should have cared that he was buck naked standing on the back porch, but he couldn’t find a fuck to give. Not wanting Mal to come downstairs and get an eyeful of his white ass, Andy went inside. He closed the door and turned on the alarm. Moe and Curly sat at his feet, whining. “I’m okay, bo
ys,” he lied. Andy felt worse than when Patrick and his lover decided using Andy as their object of a little pain play was a good idea. Andy would rather have five more lashes with a whip than have to face Bryan the next morning. As he gathered the scattered clothes, Andy prayed Bryan was drunk enough he forgot what just happened.

  When he got to his bedroom, Andy tossed the dirty clothes on the floor somewhere in the vicinity of the hamper. He didn’t bother pulling underwear on. He crawled into bed and prayed for sleep to take him. Even though he’d thrown up, the light-headedness remained as he closed his eyes. The darkness surrounded Andy. That floating feeling was no longer there. It had been replaced with a weight on Andy’s chest he didn’t understand. He opened his eyes, but he still couldn’t see. When he tried to touch his face, Andy found his wrists were bound. “Let me go,” he begged. A deep chuckle sounded somewhere in the room. Andy was disoriented, so he didn’t know who it was or how close they were.

  Someone grabbed his cock and began stroking. “Oh, Andrew. Calm down. You said you wanted to play, so be a good boy and stay still. Clark is going to make it hurt so good.”

  “Patrick?”

  “Who the fuck else would be touching your dick, Andrew? Who?” Patrick yelled.

  “No… nobody.”

  “Fucking straight. This cock is mine,” Patrick hissed into Andy’s ear as he leaned over his back. “Nobody touches you but me.” Patrick bit down on Andy’s earlobe hard. “Well, maybe Clark.”

  Andy yelped and pulled harder on the ropes. “I changed my mind. Please untie me.”

  “Don’t you trust me, Baby? You need to trust me. Clark is going to make your orgasm so much better.”

  “I trust you, but I don’t trust Clark.” The name had no sooner left Andy’s mouth than a sharp pain sliced across his back. “Owwww,” he cried out. “What the fuck, Patrick? Untie me right fucking now, goddammit!”

  Another crack of whatever Clark was using slashed on top of the other cut. Andy cried out again, tears streaming down his face. Patrick licked his face and said, “Shhh. Be a man, Andrew. Stop crying like the little bitch you are.” Patrick grabbed Andy’s flaccid cock, attempting to stroke it back into an erection. Andy could tell him it wasn’t going to work.