Kent squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll lock you guys in, and we won’t interrupt you when we come home. You can spend the night in the guest room. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen—you know where everything is. There’s plenty of groceries in the fridge. Use the grill, whatever, just clean up after yourselves.”
He slapped Boyd on the back, hard. “Claim your boy, for fuck’s sake, dumbass. He’s already in love with you. He’s in love with Boyd. Until he played with Sir last weekend and fell hard for him. I talked to him when he got here. You’re the guy he was trying to get over. You, Boyd. He’s had a hardon for you ever since he started working for you.
“He doesn’t want me, or anyone else. He wants to try to figure out how to stop being in love with you. Well, both of you, because now he thinks Sir doesn’t want him, and he thinks you, you stupid asshole, will never notice him at work, much less want him.”
Boyd stood there, looking speechless.
“And no, I didn’t tell him who Sir really was, or that Sir was the guy I was going to introduce him to today before you cancelled. That’s for you to do. The job shit will work if you make it work. Stop being a terrified pussy and Dom up, for fuck’s sake. Life is too fucking short, and you two are perfect for each other. You’re already in love with each other, and have been. Fucking do something about it already.”
With that, Kent left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He whistled to himself as he headed for the garage, where he slid behind the wheel of his Mercedes.
That’s my good deed for the month.
Followed by another thought.
Maybe I need to learn to take my own advice.
He’d really been looking forward to spending this weekend alone with Tim and Paul. That was why he hadn’t planned a party in the first place. Except Caleb had sounded so forlorn yesterday that he knew he had to do something drastic to move Boyd off his ass and force the man to see what was already right the fuck in front of him. When he’d quickly explained it to Tim over the phone, he’d readily agreed that they were okay with the extra company that weekend.
And Kent trusted Boyd not to run his mouth about anything he saw or heard between him and his boys that weekend.
Plus, knowing those two, they probably wouldn’t stick their heads out until the next morning. It’d be nearly as good as having the house to themselves.
Yes, his boys were great guys.
Great enough he hoped it didn’t break his heart when they finally grew tired of him and moved on.
He’d been on that side of things before and swore never again. Sure, he’d had twinks who were great fucks but not much in the personality department, who got greedy and wanted more, and he’d dropped them from the party list.
But this was different. This felt…deeper.
Like he was the one who couldn’t get enough of them.
A lot like love.
Except he was through with love. It would also be stupid, because they were married. There wasn’t room in there for a third for anything more than friendly fucking, and he was no home-wrecker.
Not since college, anyway.
That meant he had to protect his heart even more carefully. Especially since he’d been stupid enough to mix business and pleasure, something he’d never done before.
As Boyd said, there are no such things as unicorns. I just need to enjoy this as long as it lasts and try to be classy and let go gracefully when they eventually move on, because I cannot fuck my business all because I’m an idiot and feel too much for them.
* * * *
Paul let Tim drive today. He was too damned nervous, and he didn’t even understand why. This was Kent.
Except…something about tonight felt different.
Tim patted his thigh. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah. You?”
Tim smiled. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to go to sleep tonight with an assful of Kent’s monster.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“I hope Kent’s right that Boyd will finally come around and work things out with that guy. Boyd seems like a really nice guy.”
Paul snorted. “You weren’t on the receiving end of the non-sexy stuff. Boyd is definitely an evil sadist.”
“Was that a complaint?”
“I didn’t say that.” He grinned. “It absolutely was not a complaint, Daddy.”
“Sorry I’m not meaner.”
Paul’s hand settled over Tim’s, which still rested on Paul’s left thigh. “I don’t know, Daddy. You can be pretty mean sometimes. Like locking me in chastity with a vibrating butt plug added to the mix. I thought I’d never survive that staff meeting.”
Tim snorted. “I was seriously considering cranking it up at the end and seeing what happened.”
Paul glared at him. “You know I won’t safeword for sexy stuff between us, so that’s even meaner.”
A wide, beaming grin curved his lips. “I know.”
Paul finally laughed, his tension easing somewhat. “Can I ask you a stupid question?”
“You can ask me anything. You know that.”
“How do you really feel about Kent?”
Tim fell uncharacteristically silent for several moments. When he finally spoke again, his quiet, subdued tone told Paul volumes.
“If he asked us to be exclusive with him—not that I think he’s going to do that, because, hellooo, this is Kent we’re talking about—I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“Me, too,” Paul softly admitted. “I love playing around, but after the parties, and after the three of us played with Boyd that weekend, and then after Miami, I realized that I really want us to settle down.”
“Settle down?”
“Like we’ve…found our groove. No more piggy pup. Not at the club with others, I mean. Maybe go just with you and hang out, yeah. Be pup with only you and Kent, or pup at Kent’s parties. I’d have fun crawling on the end of your leash and taking care of you in the cigar lounge while other guys can only watch and comment. Putting on a show is a lot of fun, but with you and Kent, I…”
He took a deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong, Boyd was fricking awesome as a Top and a Dom. But when the two of us played alone with Kent, and then after spending time with him in Miami…”
Tim squeezed his hand. “It feels like we finally found the magic sauce.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
Tim sighed. “Okay, good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. Because I feel the same exact way and wasn’t sure how to bring it up in a way that didn’t make me sound like a selfish asshole.”
* * * *
Relief.
That was exactly what currently flowed through Tim’s veins.
He didn’t have a huge bottomy streak, but what little he did have seemed to be perfectly Kent-sized in terms of the kind of Top who could satisfy him. Playful and the fun kind of greedy, but not needing to be Top all the time and in all ways the way Paul enjoyed Tim being his Top.
Hell, yeah, he’d enjoyed playing with Boyd. The man could fuck like nobody’s business, and Boyd’s Dominant side had sent the good kinds of shivers through Tim while they were in bed together. Watching Boyd with Paul had been sexy as hell.
But…Kent.
It had nothing to do with the monster and everything to do with the man’s attitude. Fun first. If it wasn’t fun, it was pointless. Tim could let go for a little while and enjoy it without worrying about someone trying to pigeonhole him into that box on a permanent basis.
Kent was a live-and-let-live kind of guy. Once Tim got his needs met, he could step up again and be Daddy for Paul without worrying he had to be some specific and different role for Kent.
“Why would you think I’d think you’re being selfish?”
Tim shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m Daddy, the Top. I’m the one in charge. That’s why we’re so perfect together. Feel like I’m trying to have my cake and eat it, too.”
“What’s wrong with that? I think it’s sex
y as hell watching you with Kent, because I know what it feels like. It feels fantastic. I think it’s great you get to experience that, too.”
“And you wouldn’t miss being Daddy’s piggy?”
“Not now. I’ll always be a piggy for Daddy.” He squeezed Tim’s hand. “I think I’ve finally hit that point where yeah, it’s fun, but I’ve had fun. I need play to be more than fun. I need an emotional connection now. It’s getting kind of…boring without that, you know? Heck, Boyd would have been great for a third long-term for more than just the impact play, but I suspect he and Caleb getting together means he’s going to be totally off the market. And that’s fine.”
“Because of Kent.”
“Yeah.” Paul’s green gaze studied him. “No, Kent’s not as sadistic as Boyd, but he’s definitely more of a sadist than you are. Between the two of you…it’s plenty. I can see how much you enjoy bottoming to Kent in a way you don’t usually with me.”
“I bottom to you.”
“As Daddy. You’re enjoying it. And that’s fine. But I can see how you…let go with Kent in a way you can’t let go with me. Right?”
Tim felt his face heat but nodded. “Yeah,” he softly said. “I can.”
“Okay, then. That’s perfect, right? We’ve never had a guy who matches up to us so perfectly before.” He stared out the windshield. “If Kent’ll even go for it. I’d feel weird asking that of him and getting shot down.”
“I think we’re too far into the rabbit hole to turn back now, Alice.”
Paul sighed. “I think you’re right.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kent’s terror grew over the next couple of months. He had Paul and Tim down every weekend, party or not. Sometimes it was the three of them talking shop and working—when they weren’t fucking—and sometimes it was the two men helping him host a party.
Except at the parties, despite Tim and Paul not saying anything to him about it, Kent found himself not wanting to fuck around with anyone but the two men.
That’s what terrified him. That he’d somehow given them an emotional hold over him, even if they didn’t know it.
That he fucking loved them.
It didn’t escape his notice either that Tim and Paul no longer fucked around with anyone at the parties but Kent.
Two months after Miami, and Kent knew he needed to break this cycle, now, before it fucking crushed him.
He waited until late Sunday afternoon to talk to them about it, just before five o’clock, when the men were going to start preparing to leave. They’d had a nice weekend, the three of them, and it was the time they usually started discussing plans for next weekend.
He felt like shit anyway, physically as well as mentally. Woke up feeling…off.
Perfect day to get this over with.
Kent brought it up first, wanting to control the situation. “So I was thinking you guys don’t need to come down next weekend.”
Tim turned, a slight scowl furrowing his brow. “But you’re having a party next weekend.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to be here.”
“You don’t want us here?”
“There’s a couple of new guys going to be there, not a big thing. You guys need a break.”
Not that he had any intention of fucking the new guys. In fact, Kent was pretty sure he already had guys lined up for the newbies who would be perfect for them. He loved playing matchmaker, and had already received confirmations from the regulars that they’d be there to meet the newbies.
That meant once the party broke up, he’d be alone. No one to stay over Saturday night, a Sunday to himself to decompress and…
To figure out what the fuck he thought he was doing.
“New guys, huh?” Tim darkly asked.
* * * *
So there it is.
The harder Tim had fallen for Kent over the past couple of months, he knew the more it would hurt when Kent finally grew bored with them and wanted to start fucking around again. No, they hadn’t had a “discussion” about it with Kent, just going with the flow.
But here he’d been stupid enough to think that Kent not fucking other guys, the way they hadn’t been with other guys, meant maybe he was into them as much as they were into him.
“Yeah,” Kent said. “New guys. Couple of cute twinks. Want to pair them up.” He wouldn’t look at Tim, either.
Paul had set his laptop aside and watched, listening, but didn’t speak up.
“Sure,” Tim finally said. “Okay.”
Kent scowled. “What?”
“Nothing. Your house, your rules, man.”
Kent propped his hands on his hips. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“If you’re going to fuck them, why don’t you just say so, huh? What’s the big fucking deal?” Tim stood, slammed his laptop shut, and shoved it into his bag.
“That’s not what I said I was going to do, now, is it? Is that why you’re pissed off?”
“That’s not what you said, but let’s be honest that it’s pretty much your MO. Get some new twinks on the party list and introduce them to the monster.”
“So you’re pissed off that I’m going to have cute, fuckable guys in my house?”
“I’m pissed off that you’re telling us you don’t want us around next weekend, you got new guys coming to a party, you won’t come out and say it, and I can do the fucking math, Kent. You want to fuck them.”
“Is it a problem if I do?”
Tim clamped down on his pain. “Guess I don’t get a say in it, do I?”
“I guess you fucking don’t.”
“Here I was stupid enough to think you really gave a shit about us. That maybe we were different.”
“Guys,” Paul said, “can we calm down and back up? Why are you screaming at each other?”
“You guys are fucking married,” Kent said. “Don’t think I don’t know as soon as you get fucking bored you’ll be finding excuses not to come around. Let me save you the fucking hassle.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”
Paul stood. “Guys! Stop it!”
“Get your shit, Paul,” Tim ordered. “We’re leaving. We’ve apparently started boring the monster and he needs fresh meat.”
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass,” Kent said, heading for the hallway and presumably his bedroom. “Knew it’d only be a matter of time before you left anyway.”
* * * *
Paul felt helpless to fix this. He didn’t know where they’d gone wrong, either. Everything had been fine, and it was like suddenly switches were flipped in Tim and in Kent, and…
Boom.
Nuclear meltdown.
Tim’s dark scowl worried Paul. In their years together he’d never seen his guy look so…
Angry wasn’t even the right word, but it was probably the closest.
“I think we need to stay and talk this out,” Paul said. “I don’t even know why you two are mad at each other!”
“No, we’re fucking leaving. Let’s go.”
“What?”
“I said let’s go. Grab your shit, and let’s go. We’re done here.”
“But—”
They heard a noise from the hallway, sounded like Kent threw something on the floor. A thick, heavy, wet kind of thud that chilled Paul’s soul.
“Kent?” Paul called out.
Tim had crossed the room, heading for where he’d left his laptop bag. “Leave him. He’s just being an asshole.”
Paul walked over to the hallway entrance and looked down it. “Kent?”
No sounds at all.
“Paul, let’s go. Now.”
Ignoring Tim, Paul headed down the hallway toward the bedroom. He was still ten steps from the door to the master bedroom when he saw Kent’s legs, where he lay on the floor. “Kent!”
He rushed in, dropping to the floor next to him, shaking him. “Tim!” he screamed.
Tim ran in. “What—fuck!” He dropped down next to Kent and checked
his pulse, checked to see if he was breathing. “Fuck, call 911.” He started doing chest compressions.
“What?”
“Call 911 and go figure out how to open the gate to let them in!”
Paul scrambled to his feet, digging his phone out of his back pocket as he ran for the control panel in the kitchen, where Kent still had a land-line wall-mounted phone.
OCD Kent had a small card with his address posted there, just in case anyone ever needed to call 911 during one of the parties, along with instructions on how to override and open the gate, which Paul tried to decipher even as he attempted to answer the 911 operator’s questions.
With that done, Paul ran out the front door, leaving it standing open behind him as he raced down the long driveway toward the gate. In the distance he could already hear sirens from the fire station just down the road.
Please don’t let him die! Especially not like this!
* * * *
Tim struggled to stay calm and keep count as he performed the chest compressions. At one point his stomach rolled when he felt a crack under his hands, but he repositioned and continued, praying he wasn’t doing more harm than good.
“Come on, you son of a bitch. Don’t you dare fucking die on me and leave me feeling like shit!”
It felt like forever before he heard fire rescue roll up outside. They raced into the room, and one of the paramedics took over for him with chest compressions while the others prepped a defibrillator. Tim crawled out of the way and sat off to the side, his arms trembling and heart pounding as he watched them.
Come on, come on, come on!
Paul stood watching in the doorway, tears rolling down his cheeks and hugging himself. Tim dragged himself to his feet and walked over to him.
“Go find his wallet, bring me his keys, and you ride with them.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed Paul by the shoulders and stared into his eyes, not sure what Paul had already told the rescue squad, but it could be explained away as panic. “You’re his son. You ride with him.”