The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3)

by Nikki Sloane

  Clay’s hand on the table curled into a fist, but it wasn’t in anger. He realized this wasn’t going well and struggled to find the right words. “No, I asked you because I wanted us to talk. You’re . . .” He sighed. “Before Lilith, you were my best friend, Travis. And now—after Lilith—you’ve become something more.”

  His expression was so stunningly beautiful, it was heartbreaking, and Travis froze in place. It was a statement that hadn’t been said out loud before, and its power wasn’t lost on Travis.

  The rest of the restaurant ceased to exist. There was a force pulling Travis and me toward Clay. An inescapable gravity.

  “I don’t know what is,” he said, “or how to label what we are to each other, but I’m not blind. I see what’s happening between you two and I’m torn. I don’t want to stand in the way, but I don’t want to be left behind either.”

  “No one’s leaving you behind,” I said.

  Clay turned his attention toward me, and it looked like he wanted to believe what I’d said, but the skeptical side of him wouldn’t allow it. “Did I fuck this up? I tried to give you what you needed, and I brought him in when I couldn’t. Tell me that wasn’t wrong and I’m not going to lose you both as a result.”

  My jaw hit the table as I endured the rollercoaster that was Clay tonight.

  “Just wait a minute. I’m not going anywhere.” Travis sat straighter in his seat. “I don’t think she is, either. Look, I know this isn’t what you planned, but we can—”

  He flinched as if someone had poked him, and his gaze dropped to his phone which must have vibrated. Whomever was calling him, it caused concern.

  “I’m sorry. I have to take this.” He tapped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “This is Dr. Eckhart.”

  I was reeling from what Clay had said, and what he really meant. With him returning home, he thought I was going to have to choose between the men.

  And he was sure he was going to lose.

  The urge to reassure and connect with him was so strong, I reached across the table and covered his hand with mine. “It wasn’t wrong, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  Meanwhile, Travis stared at his untouched drink and listened somberly to the person on the other end. “Yeah, I agree with Dr. Khaan. It’s time.”

  “Oh, no,” I whispered. He had that same resigned and professional tone I’d heard countless times at the clinic, the one the doctors used when they’d exhausted every option.

  Clay kept his voice hushed to not disturb Travis. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re putting an animal down.”

  “I appreciate the call,” Travis said. “Is she comfortable?” He nodded as he listened, then pulled the phone away for a moment to check the time on the screen. “I can be there in thirty minutes if Khaan thinks it can wait that long.” He continued to nod. “Okay, thanks. I’m on my way.”

  He hung up, and it was as if he just realized where he was. He couldn’t have looked more conflicted if he’d tried.

  “Jasmina?” I asked, suspecting the answer. He’d mentioned a few days ago the lemur wasn’t interested in food and had withdrawn from the rest of her troop.

  Sadness filled his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  It happened so naturally, it wasn’t until his gaze dropped to the table I realized what I’d done. My hand rested on his, which meant I was now holding hands with both men.

  Neither pulled away. Maybe they felt the connection to each other as it flowed through me.

  “I’m not on-call,” Travis said, “but I’d like to be there to say goodbye. So, unfortunately, I have to go.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Clay asked.

  Travis considered it. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he made a face, shaking the thought away.

  “Tell us,” I prompted.

  His gaze flicked to Clay. “Weekends are usually yours with Lilith, but after I’m done, I was wondering if you’d . . .”

  My breath caught. Clay had just confessed he felt like he was being left behind, and now Travis was asking if he’d be willing to give up his time with me this evening. None of this was in his plans, and he hated when they were changed on him.

  But he stared across the table at his best friend and evaluated what was more important, and the dominant in him couldn’t ignore what was necessary. This was something Travis needed, and Clay would put that over his own desires.

  “Of course,” he said. “If Lilith is okay being with you tonight instead of me, I am too.”

  Emotions came on powerfully strong, so I nodded and squeezed their hands, wishing I could tell them both how I felt at the same moment, but we didn’t have time. Travis needed to go, and I wasn’t going to make him stay while the animal he’d bonded with was suffering.

  Yet, he didn’t get up from his seat.

  His gaze was fixated on how my hand was linked with Clay’s, and his chest lifted with a slow breath. “What if that’s not what I’m asking?” His gaze drifted up, tracing the line of Clay’s body, all the way until he met his eyes. “What if I don’t want tonight to be about me and her, or you and her,” he paused, “but us?”

  My heart lurched.

  The men had been scene partners twice, but that had happened before me. Since then, both had respected the other’s role when observing. They didn’t interact or interfere with who was in charge. The closest they’d come was our first night together in the club—with the day Clay had pressed his hand on Travis’s chest coming in as a distant second.

  Clay’s expression was guarded, so I couldn’t tell if he loved or hated the idea, but he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t pulled his hand away from me. “Together?”

  Travis’s voice was tight. “Yes.”

  Light glinted off Clay’s lenses as he turned his attention toward me and searched my expression. Could he see how badly I wanted this? That maybe I needed it as much as Travis did? He must have, because his focus moved on to the other man.

  His voice wasn’t loud, but it rang through my body.

  “All right.”

  We didn’t talk about Travis during dinner, nor did we on the drive back to our neighborhood. After Travis left the restaurant, Clay canceled his entrée with the kitchen, and then Clay proceeded to give me the date I’d been expecting when I’d come over to his house earlier this evening.

  We talked about his project ending and the next trip my parents were planning, still undecided if they’d do Europe or Australia. It led the conversation to what traveling we’d done, and from there . . . his family.

  His sister was married with two kids and lived on the west coast because she worked for a big tech company. His parents moved to Florida after retiring, so he only saw them at the holidays. He was alone here in Nashville, but didn’t struggle much with loneliness.

  He shared personal things with ease now, and I soaked the information up. How he’d toyed with becoming a fulltime carpenter after high school, but a teacher had pushed him to try drafting, and that was it. He loved precision and details and building, plus he was ‘decent at math.’

  Conversation flowed freely while we pretended our thoughts weren’t drifting to what would happen this evening. If Clay were drafting a plan in his head, I couldn’t tell, but perhaps he was excellent at multitasking.

  Anticipation wound tightly around my body as we returned to his house. Clay was pouring us each a glass of white wine when we received the text message.

  Travis: I’m finished. Where are you guys?

  Clay: My place. Come over.

  His line of text was casual, but it could have just as easily been an order and steam flooded every inch of my body, from my fingertips down to my toes nestled inside the beautiful shoes Clay had given me.

  The kitchen renovation was nearly complete, so I pressed my hands to the quartz countertop to try to cool down at least some part of me. It was possible I’d burst into
flames when Travis got here, and I frantically looked for something to distract.

  “Did you decide on a backsplash?” I nodded to the two samples still taped to the wall.

  He stood beside me as we drank our wine and studied the options. “Not yet. Do you have a preference?”

  “I don’t know if I can pick one. I like them both equally.” It wasn’t until the statement was out that I heard how it sounded. It could apply to a much larger decision than the decorative bits of ceramic and glass. “I mean, they both look good.”

  “Yeah. They’re both attractive,” he conceded. “But you don’t think one is better looking than the other?”

  “No, I honestly don’t.” I stared at the tiles, pretending I was talking about backsplashes and not my partners. “They’re attractive to me in different ways.”

  He stared at the samples, which were similar, and both cast in varying shades of gray. “I get that.” His voice was off. “Well, I can’t have both. That’s just . . . not how it’s done.”

  “I don’t know. Some people do it.” My heart was hurrying along. “Maybe it’d create something really unique and amazing.”

  “It sounds like a lot of work.”

  I nodded. “I don’t think it’d be easy, but it could be worth it.”

  He picked up his wine glass, took a long sip, and stared at the wall like he wished the backsplash were already installed. “A decision doesn’t have to be made tonight,” he said. “Let’s not talk about tiles anymore.”

  It wasn’t tense between Clay and me after that, but the mood had taken a hit, and conversation was stilted until the doorbell chimed. Clay set his wine glass down on the table beside the couch and moved to the entryway, while I followed behind. When he opened the door, the other man came in and scoured the room until his gaze landed on me, and his shoulders relaxed. As if the sight of me had a calming effect.

  “How did it go?” The band was back around my chest, tight with worry, and I squeezed the wineglass in my hand.

  His eyes had a hint of sadness, but they were clear. “It was good. Peaceful.”

  “Good,” I said.

  The three of us fell into awkward silence for a moment, but Clay rescued us. He motioned that we should move into the living room.

  “Did you want something to eat?” he asked Travis. “You had to skip dinner.”

  “No, thanks. I grabbed something quick after I left the zoo.”

  “Wine?”

  “Sure.”

  Clay left us, his footsteps growing quieter as he disappeared into the kitchen. Travis held my gaze as he steadily approached, moving in like nothing else existed. It was so intense, I began to retreat, only to bump up against the back of the couch near the center of the room.

  He took the glass of wine from my hand, deposited it on the side table next to Clay’s, and then cradled my face in his palms. It was so he could hold me still while he leaned down and claimed my mouth with his. I went rigid under his kiss. Not because I didn’t want it, but because I could hear the other man in the kitchen as he opened a cabinet and retrieved a wine glass.

  But I was pliable in Travis’s hands, and even though I didn’t know if this was allowed or respectful, I began to soften. His slow, sensual kiss was less about romance and more about seduction. It was dangerous.

  Which also made it exciting.

  Clay’s footsteps grew louder as he approached. There came a soft, surprised intake of breath from him as he discovered what we were doing, but Travis took his time ending the kiss. It made my head spin.

  Wait a minute.

  Was this . . . a pissing contest?

  Anger began to swell in the pit of my stomach. In the right scene, I liked how the men used me. There was a certain kind of enjoyment in being treated like an object, or a toy to bring my partner satisfaction. But we weren’t in a scene right now, and—

  Travis took the glass of wine that was meant for him from Clay, gave me a hard look, and said it in a dominating voice that would have made any submissive weak. “Now, kiss him.”

  The muscles low in my belly clenched. Travis didn’t often give me orders, and when he did, they’d always come from the other man. But this command was undeniably his, and he stepped to the side to give me room to follow it.

  Electricity swirled, charging the air in the room as I took the two steps toward Clay. He wasn’t exactly smiling with his mouth, but it lurked in his eyes. He liked our partner’s order just as much as I did and looked forward to how I would carry it out.

  He tasted like the wine we’d been drinking.

  I initiated the kiss, but the second our lips touched, he took over. It wasn’t quite as earth-shattering as the one he’d given me earlier today, but this wasn’t in his script either, so it was untamed and raw. His palm slid down my back and clenched a handful of my ass, and it drove me deeper into his kiss.

  When it was over, I pulled back just enough to turn my head and glance at Travis for approval. He sipped his wine like he was savoring both it and the way Clay had kissed me. Goosebumps shattered across my skin.

  The realization hit me then. Travis’s kiss hadn’t been competitive or territorial—it’d been a test. A hurdle to overcome and help keep jealousy at bay. It meant there was trust even when we weren’t in sight. It demonstrated Travis wasn’t going to do anything with me he wouldn’t be comfortable with Clay also doing.

  Travis said it like he was asking me to do something ordinary, and not an action guaranteed to stoke the fire between the three of us. “Again.”

  I turned my focus back to Clay, but he didn’t wait for me to instigate this time. He crushed his mouth to mine, and slid his tongue past my lips, possessing me. His deep kiss was erotic, and the way his tongue moved reminded me of how good he was at using it other places too.

  The pleasure of it was wonderful and disorienting.

  So, I didn’t realize Travis had set his wine down until I heard the clink of the glass against the wooden tabletop. He moved in behind me, pressing the length of his body against mine, his chest flattened to my back.

  Clay didn’t back down. If anything, the proximity of the other man only made him kiss me harder. Fingertips brushed over my neck, gathering my hair, and pushing it out of his way, so Travis could tilt his head down and set his warm, damp mouth on the sensitive spot just below my ear.

  I shivered.

  Holy God, it was insane to have both men kissing me at the same time. When I tore my mouth away from Clay’s to gasp for air, he simply moved, trailing his lips over my cheekbone and down to the other side of my neck.

  I was trapped between them, one arm around Clay’s waist and the other curled back so I could grip Travis’s hair while they kissed, and sucked, and softly nipped at me. There was literally nowhere else in the world I wanted to be. I could die a happy woman right here, right now.

  They could hear how hard I was breathing, but did they feel my heart as it roared? I was lightheaded and clung to both of them, worried I might fall and take us all down.

  Travis tugged at the neck of my shirt, pulling it down to expose my shoulder and his mouth followed behind, feasting on my newly exposed skin. “Let’s get you naked.”

  “Yes,” I panted. “Let’s.”

  While Travis tried to get in my shirt from the top, Clay’s attack was from the bottom. He slid a hand up under the hem and cupped one of my bra-covered breasts. “Should we go downstairs first?”

  Travis’s mouth slowed. “I was thinking a bed might be better.” He put a hand on my hip and ground his growing erection against my ass. “Wouldn’t you like that, Lilith? Plenty of room for us to fuck you exactly how we want.”

  I sagged so much, both men tightened their grip to keep me on my feet. “Yes,” I babbled. “I want that.”

  Shit, I wanted it so much it was painful, and that ache only turned me on more.

  “All right.” Clay’s hand slipped down out of my shirt and once he was sure
I wasn’t going to topple over, he stepped back. “Grab your wine and follow me.”

  There were three identical glasses on the table, and I wasn’t sure he knew which one was his, but he snatched up a glass and lead the way down the hall, stopping in front of the open door to a bedroom and casting a glance back at us.

  He hadn’t gone to the stairs that lead to the guest bedrooms on the second floor. He waited for us to follow him into his bedroom.

  Travis eyed the remaining wine glasses. “Which one is yours?”

  My voice was urgent as I blindly grabbed a glass and took off toward Clay. “Who the hell cares? Let’s go.”

  Travis’s laugh was deep and warm.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Clay’s bedroom was in the same state it’d been in last time. The bed wasn’t made, and the dark gray comforter spilled off to one side. The chair in the corner still had a few discarded articles of clothes on it, but otherwise his bedroom wasn’t messy.

  He went to the bedside lamp and clicked it on before taking a long sip of wine and set down his glass. His focus went to the man who was surveying the room for the first time, and Clay’s tone was both playful and serious.

  “You’re going to let her talk to you like that?”

  “No, you’re right.” Travis gave me a firm look. “Take off your shirt and your jeans.”

  The shirt was easy and fluttered to the carpet, but the jeans were harder because they molded to my legs, plus I’d have to take off my new shoes. I undid the button and dropped the zipper as Clay sat on his bed, pulled off his shoes and socks, and lounged across the mattress to watch.

  I wriggled my hips, pushing down the denim, but when my jeans were wadded around my knees, Travis put a hand on my shoulder and abruptly shoved me forward. I reached out, catching myself with my hands on the mattress, leaving me bent over the end of the bed.

  The first crack of his palm on my ass startled me, but not Clay, because a pleased smile burned across his lips. Warmth bloomed in my center. The spanking hadn’t been hard, but I was smart enough to know this was just the warm-up. It was so much better when it built up to the real punishment.