Gryphen snorted.
“Oh, we’re absolutely going to‘loom’, Mr. Lainey. You can bet your ass on that. Or his ass. Or whatever part you like to gamble with.”
Michael chuckled, well accustomed to Gryphen’s busting, and honestly, it was welcome.
He needed a friend now.
To talk to.
Graham wasn’t the only one on the cusp. He was just holding it together so that the man had support.
Now, he needed some.
Both men were grateful this was what they walked in on, and not the worst-case scenario. Since they were naked in bed together, there was a good chance they were going to be okay.
“If I remember correctly, someone’s kink was interrupting me having sex,” Gryphen admitted. “I do believe you saw quite the show. Your ass is mild to what you saw on my body.”
Michael lifted a brow.
Well, that sounded…not like something he liked.
Already, that proprietary feeling was there, and he knew what was coming next.
He.
Was.
Screwed.
Graham sputtered.
“Should I tell that tale?” Gryphen asked, popping a stick of gum into his mouth, and offering one to Finn.
He took it, and the two men were clearly having the time of their lives.
Michael…
He was curious.
“Do I want to know?” he asked. “Or is that code for something that will make me lose my nut?”
Oh, somehow, Graham doubted it would make him blush.
“Let’s just say Lord Carter has a kink that might make us look tame,” Graham admitted.
Oddly, he and D’Artangnan had one hell of a kink—or they had at one time. He was curious if it was still there, or if it died when they died.
From where he lay, his arms behind his head, and Graham against him, Michael grinned.
It wasn’t lost on him that this was a vastly better outcome than what they could be dealing with.
A dead Graham.
Or a dead…him.
Gryphen grinned.
“I do like topping the hell out of any kink,” he said, clueing the man in.
