“Oh, fuck,” he moaned.
She ran her hot fingers along his length and he shuddered. She stroked again.
He shook his head. “Too much. Please, not yet.”
Savannah looked sorry for him. “Poor baby,” she cooed. She cupped his cheek and drew his face closer.
Their lips brushed in a series of gentle kisses. He dragged his knees up, bent in half around Savannah, his thighs forcing hers higher. With his ass tipped in the air, he pressed Savannah to the bed with his chest. Garrick pumped his fingers, spread them, testing muscles that were so fucking ready.
He lost himself in Savannah’s kiss. His hips started to move of their own accord. Garrick moved with them. He pulled his fingers almost all the way out and scissored them, taking him to the razor’s edge of pain, before he thrust deep again. Rhian felt fuller, and realized a third finger was lodged in his ass.
He panted against Savannah’s lips. Her languid movements suddenly stopped, then she gasped and jerked beneath him.
“Are you all right?” Rhian asked.
Savannah laughed and moaned at once. “Garrick has two hands.”
Rhian closed his eyes and tried to hold back the tidal wave of need cresting over him. “God, what is he doing to you?”
It took several tries before she could answer. “Three fingers?”
“Yes.” He grunted when Garrick forcefully reminded him. “Three fingers. One tongue.”
Savannah tried to smile, but it wobbled badly. “Please, Rhian. I need you. Now.”
He shifted closer and his cock slid along the swollen, wet folds of her pussy. Garrick’s departing fingers brushed along his cock and balls. He gritted his teeth and Savannah whimpered beneath him.
“Please,” she moaned.
Shit, he might come the moment he entered her. He tried to think about something else. His game stats. Taxes. The time he found half a bug in his salad. Anything other than the fingers thrust in his ass and the lick of a broad tongue against his perineum. His hips twitched, searching, and he despaired that he didn’t have the coordination to find the entrance to her body, let alone fuck her properly.
He yelped when Garrick’s fingers, still wet with her arousal, wrapped around his cock and guided him.
Fucking hell.
He ground his teeth and tried to keep his head on straight as he surged forward, sinking into Savannah’s gloriously hot, tight sheath.
Her shout of relief rang in his ears. Garrick’s goddamn fingers worked in his ass.
God, they weren’t giving him an inch to think. To breathe.
Rhian slammed his eyes shut and fought back the storm brewing in his balls. He stayed still. Except for the panting. If he moved even an inch, he’d blow, and he didn’t want to do that. Not yet. He wanted Garrick to fuck him.
So. Damn. Much.
Rhian took a deep breath when Garrick finally pulled his fingers free. He wrapped himself around Rhian’s back and pressed their cheeks together. They both looked down at Savannah’s flushed face. “You ready?”
It took Rhian a moment to realize he was supposed to answer that. “God, yes.”
Savannah thrust her hand under a pillow and produced a bottle of lube.
Rhian groaned. “God, you’re as bad as he is.”
“I learned from the best.”
Garrick chuckled. “I’m so proud. Now give me that.”
She did and Garrick moved back. Rhian was acutely aware of Garrick’s every movement. Cold plastic brushed against his ass and a flood of cool liquid poured into and over him.
He grunted. “Sure you used enough?”
“There can never be too much,” Garrick growled. “Once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re screaming.”
Savannah shuddered beneath him.
Rhian tried to smile at her. “Are you okay?”
“God, yes. Are you kidding?”
He was amazed he could laugh, the sound cut off abruptly when the head of Garrick’s cock pushed hard against his hole. He stared down at Savannah, unblinking. She soothed him with gentle touches to his face and hair, and another long, hot kiss.
Garrick’s fingers gripped him hard enough that he’d have bruises come morning, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did but the burning pressure, the searing heat of Garrick’s cock against his ass.
Rhian groaned and shoved back, forcing the thick head past tight muscles that sang with relief. His cock drew along Savannah’s snug sheath in the process, the walls clinging to him like a fist.
“Oh, Jesus,” he cried, bucking between them. He stuttered to a halt, thrust as far into Savannah as he could get, while Garrick pushed deep into his ass.
Rhian shouted words even he didn’t understand. He reached over his shoulder, wrapped a hand around Garrick’s neck, and held on for dear life. He no longer knew up from down. Where he ended and they began.
Garrick’s weight pressed him down into Savannah, grinding his pelvic bone against her clit.
She cried his name. Then Garrick’s. Rhian’s heart leapt at the sound of both. At that moment there was no difference. There were not three people in this bed. There was one. One entity. One unit. Them.
Rhian wanted to stay there, between them, connected at the most intimate level, forever. At least, he wanted that in his head. And his heart.
His cock, though, wasn’t going to be able to stand this much longer.
“God, Garrick, do it. Move.”
Garrick must have heard how desperate Rhian was. He fucked Rhian hard and fast from the first thrust and Rhian gloried in every inch, each vein and ridge of Garrick’s cock, moving through him.
Rhian didn’t hold back either. He used what little strength and coordination he had left to fuck Savannah for all he was worth. He reveled in the unbelievable racket she made. The zing of her fingernails scoring his skin. When he thrust all the way into Savannah, Garrick was there with him, stretching him wide and forcing him farther. Then Garrick was yanking him back, dragging him from Savannah’s sweet, clutching heat as Garrick’s shaft sang along his screaming nerve endings.
Rhian relinquished any illusion of control. Garrick pushed them faster, harder, and Rhian loved it. His ass would not let him forget this for a week, and he wanted more. And Garrick gave it to him, all the while directing him as he fucked Savannah.
Rhian’s climax gathered, and he strove for it. Needed it. Garrick’s arm wrapped across Rhian’s chest, his hand clamping over Rhian’s shoulder. Savannah laced her fingers through Garrick’s. Her other hand made a fist in Rhian’s hair.
Rhian soared, a seething mass of sensation and wonder.
Garrick broke first. “Oh fuck!” he roared, hugging Rhian tight and slamming into him. Rhian ground down on Savannah’s clit and she arched beneath him, the muscles in her pussy clamping down on his cock just as the hot flood of Garrick’s come filled his ass.
Rhian’s orgasm hit him like he’d run straight into a wall.
God, it was perfect.
He clung to Savannah, his ass clenching, burning around Garrick’s thick shaft. The ripples of Savannah’s orgasm flowed over his throbbing cock, dragging him further into the abyss.
Eventually, he collapsed on Savannah, not proud of it, but weak as a baby and unable to hold himself up. His lovers moved him gently, rolling to the side and easing them apart. They petted him, smiling at one another as he lay there, boneless. He tried to smile back. He could hardly keep his eyes open, but didn’t want to look away from their faces. Someone cleaned him up. Someone else pulled the covers over them. He lay between them, humming with contentment.
He wondered when they could do it again. He might have actually said that out loud, given how Savannah and Garrick laughed when he thought it.
He didn’t care. For now he had something he craved. Something he’d needed his entire life and had only found with them.
Peace.
Chapter Thirty One
Garrick sat in the kitchen, staring off into space, his bare chest warmed b
y the sun coming in through the windows. The last week had been amazing. His arrival. The crazy reunion on the floor not far from where his bare feet rested on the rung of the counter stool. Making love to Rhian in their bed that night. Making love almost every which way since. He slept like a baby, every night, with at least one of them in his arms, and the other within reach.
Of everything, he most cherished the moments Rhian forgot to be worried, the tension lost from his face as ecstasy or sleep conquered all. Garrick was in awe of the way Savannah teased it from Rhian. Made him laugh. How it smoothed the skin between his eyebrows and his crow’s feet would pop with his smile.
Rhian was heart-stoppingly attractive when he was amused. Aroused. Content. Hell, he was beautiful even in the throes of a panic attack. But Garrick very much preferred the way Rhian looked when Garrick and Savannah coaxed him into letting go.
Happy.
Now how the hell did they keep him that way?
He and Savannah had talked about it. Several times. Her worries matched his exactly. He’d had faith from the moment he’d walked through the door and seen them together that he and Savannah were on the same page. He’d since confirmed it, just to be sure. After all, a man probably shouldn’t just assume his girlfriend also wanted a permanent threesome.
Was there a better word for that?
He should look it up. Savannah probably knew. He’d ask her as soon as she woke up.
In Moncton, he’d grown accustomed to meeting his friend and project manager, Jack, and the construction foreman at the arena at the crack of dawn. Here in Boston, he was in the habit of leaving Savannah and Rhian curled up together in bed in the mornings while he came out to the kitchen to work. This morning alone he’d already sent a dozen emails and texts back and forth with Jack and Rupert.
Things in Moncton were doing just fine without him, thank Christ. Callum was proving useful, making a far greater contribution than Rupert had credited him capable of. From what Jack had said, the fireworks were still going off between those two, but increasingly less often.
Garrick considered reminding Rupert that Callum was technically his boss.
Nah. Garrick had bigger fish to fry right here in Boston. Those two could work out their own issues.
Garrick pictured Rhian huddled in the corner of their hallway the day Garrick had come home. From post-coital bliss to terror in the space of minutes. He dreaded the next time it would happen and hated that he and Savannah couldn’t prevent it. Hell, they would probably be the cause. Garrick was determined to get Rhian to a place where that kind of fear never again lurked in his head or heart. No one should have to live with that. And certainly not this man. Whom, more than ever, Garrick loved with all his heart.
And it was the same with Savannah. Garrick had spent countless hours watching her with Rhian, coaxing those precious smiles out of him. Garrick had no doubt that she loved Rhian, too. She hadn’t said it yet, but it was there. She stared at Rhian like the sun might rise over his head. And while she was adventurous, she wasn’t reckless—they wouldn’t all be here, together, if her feelings didn’t run deep.
He should have guessed she would come to understand who Rhian was, and be drawn to those same things that called to Garrick. How could any adult with a brain and a hint of compassion resist Rhian’s strange combination of strength and vulnerability?
Certainly Garrick and Savannah couldn’t. And he wasn’t going to give anyone else a chance to discover how compelling their brave and nervous lover was. Savannah and Garrick would be enough. Would give Rhian everything he needed. Wanted. They had to.
A squeak came from down the hallway and he glanced up to see Rhian slip out of the bedroom, his loose sweatpants barely clinging to his hips. Garrick’s heart rolled over in his chest. Just like always. He’d never get tired of looking at Rhian.
Rhian padded barefoot to Garrick and absently dropped a kiss on his lips. Rhian probably had no idea how happy his casual affection made Garrick. In fact, he appeared to still be half asleep as he staggered to the cabinet, selected a mug and poured himself a large cup of coffee.
He knew his way around this kitchen better than Garrick did. That made Garrick happy, too. He hid his smile behind his coffee cup.
“Good morning,” Rhian said, his voice rough.
Garrick schooled his features before putting down his mug. “Morning. Sleep well?”
Rhian smiled softly and Garrick thought his heart might bust out his chest and land at the damn man’s feet. “Slept great,” he murmured.
Garrick pictured Rhian pressed between Garrick and Savannah all night, their legs tangled, their arms all around him.
Rhian took a gulp of coffee and brushed Garrick’s shoulder as he walked past him. “I’m going to go stretch out in the living room. For some reason, my knees and quads are killing me this morning.”
Garrick grinned, unrepentant, and watched Rhian bypass the couch and shove the coffee table to the wall. Garrick had assumed “stretch out” meant Rhian was going to go back to sleep on the couch. Garrick should have known better.
Rhian’s smooth skin glowed in the sunlight pouring through the skylights and front window as he bent to touch his toes. Each flex of muscle was highlighted by the warm light. Garrick wanted to run his hands over every inch of him, but held back. They were three now. Eventually he’d be able to jump Rhian’s bones whenever he felt like it, but for now the balance still seemed too precarious to risk throwing it off.
A loud knock on the door made Garrick jump. Rhian stood. They weren’t expecting anyone. Garrick slipped off his stool and went to the door, decency requiring he do up at least a couple of the buttons on his fly before he opened it.
Three men stood before him, two of them looking awfully familiar. The youngest and smallest of the bunch rushed through the door and slammed Garrick against the wall.
The stranger got right in Garrick’s face—a neat trick, since their rude visitor was a good six inches shorter. “Who the fuck are you?”
Garrick gaped at the ferocious little man, momentarily speechless.
Rhian’s laughter echoed in the hallway. “Let him go, Kieran. That’s Garrick.”
The arm against Garrick’s neck immediately fell away. “Oh. Uh, sorry.”
During the long awkward pause to follow, their visitors alternated between looking at Rhian—shirtless, barefoot, hair wild with bed head—and Garrick—in pretty much the same condition except he also had hickeys all over his neck and chest. As discreetly as he could, Garrick buttoned the rest of his fly. It wasn’t much help, but it was the best he could do. Maybe they’d think the hickeys were birth marks?
Rhian waved their visitors into the kitchen. “Hey, Chance. Lachlan. Come on in.”
They each shook Garrick’s hand, clarifying who was who on their way past.
“Coffee?” Rhian asked, reaching for more mugs.
Garrick stood to the side and watched Rhian act the polite host, as if he lived there. He seemed comfortable in the role. With these men. The Rhian Garrick had known back in Moncton had never once invited anyone to his apartment. Hadn’t had friends, even, until Garrick had forced his way in. This man, the one getting out cream and milk and sugar, joking with Savannah’s brothers and laughing at their banter, was a goddamn revelation.
Garrick wanted to run down the hall, throw himself on Savannah, and positively hug the stuffing out of her. She was the only one who would understand why this made Garrick unreasonably happy, and she was a lot of the reason why it was possible at all.
Garrick joined the conversation, listening more than adding anything, and watched the brothers. He remained on the opposite end of the kitchen from Rhian, enjoying how three heads swiveled as they looked between them. Garrick wasn’t sure, but Chance, in particular, seemed to be piecing things together pretty quickly. Quicker than Savannah might like.
Fortunately, other than the occasional raised eyebrow, no one seemed upset. Definitely not mad. Possibly they were a little confused.
And hell, who in this house wasn’t fucking confused about all this?
Christ, he needed Savannah out here. Was she ready for her brothers to have a clue about what was really going on? That was not something Garrick was willing to guess about.
He was about to retrieve her from the bedroom when she breezed into the kitchen, fully clothed, her hair neatly tied up. She looked like she’d been up for hours.
He shot her a dirty look and she winked back.
“Boys! What are you all doing here at this hour?”
Lachlan took a deliberate look at his watch. “What hour? It’s nine o’clock in the morning. Why aren’t you at work?”
She shrugged. “I’m working from home this week. I wanted to spend time with—at home.”
Their guests might have missed the hesitation and the way her gaze darted to him in panic, but Garrick hadn’t. And from Rhian’s suddenly downcast eyes, he hadn’t either.
Fuck.
Savannah took the mug Rhian held out. He never looked at her face. She grimaced at his profile before turning back to her brothers. “What are you doing here if you thought I’d be at work?”
Lachlan shrugged. “I didn’t know where Rhian lived and I figured he might be here.”
Everyone’s eyes bounced back and forth between Garrick and Rhian again. Rhian stared fixedly at the coffee maker. Savannah’s cheeks started to turn pink. Garrick fucking refused to squirm.
Rhian turned at last. “Did you need me for something?”
Chance circled the kitchen island and put a hand on Rhian’s arm, while Lachlan eased around the other way to stand behind them.
The hairs on the back of Garrick’s neck stood on end. Why the hell were they blocking him in?
Chance’s grip on Rhian’s arm tightened. “I have some information,” Chance began. “About your biological family. And the girl who’s been following you.”
Chapter Thirty Two
Rhian swallowed past the bile scorching his throat. No one moved, all eyes glued to him.
Why had this ever seemed like a good idea?
Then he pictured the girl in Harvard Square and her shockingly familiar smile.
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