I run my fingers through his furry chest. “Then what would you suggest?”
He scrunches his nose. “We’re like…isn’t there a name for when your boyfriend’s got a boyfriend?”
“There is,” I say, grinning at the familiar word. “In polyamorous relationships, that’s called a metamour.”
“So, yeah. We’re metamours. With benefits.”
“Even though Wick doesn’t realize he’s in a polyamorous relationship?”
Colt shrugs. “Even then.”
I grin. “I normally don't sleep with my lovers, but since we’re metamours…leaving your bed sounds like a terrible idea.”
Colt puts on a serious expression, nodding. “I agree. I don’t think you can be trusted to make it down the hallway in one piece.”
“It’s true. I’d just as likely fall down the stairs.”
He surrounds me, all arms and legs and belly. “Then you’re staying here with me,” he proclaims, nuzzling my neck.
I’m usually the strong, comforting one, but his body around mine, the honesty in his words…feel like solace and healing. As we drift off, I chuckle at a silly thought. It’s something so unlikely—crazy, even—that I decide to keep it to myself.
For now.
13
WARWICK
Imake my way into the bunkhouse in the early dawn hours after what was, on its face, a damn good night of sex. The guy was exactly in my sweet spot: my age, perpetual bachelor, no strings, and willing to flip fuck all night long. I should be strutting, but I’m not.
For absolutely no reason, the little threesome with Joaquin and Colt kept playing on a loop all night, and everything I did with that guy seemed less than. Hollow.
I hated it.
I head straight for the coffee maker, and I'm shocked to see Joaquin emerge from Colt’s room, naked. He's wearing a little grin as he carries his pile of clothes to his room.
“Joaquin,” Colt calls out, stepping from the bedroom, also naked.
Joaquin turns around, and his devil grin lights up the predawn space. He turns and pecks Colt’s jaw, bringing him in for a sweet kiss.
“I needed last night more than I realized. Thank you,” he says, touching his forehead to Colt’s.
Colt’s grin broadens and his entire body smiles. He nuzzles for a brief moment against Joaquin, then turns back to his room, cherubic and adorable as fuck. Joaquin watches him with a wistful smile.
The whole exchange pisses me off.I can’t believe they slept together without me.
And I have no right to be butt-hurt about it. It's not like any of us have any kind of agreement with each other. Hell, I just walked in the door from a hookup.
The curl of jealousy spreads in my stomach, and I can't tell if I'm jealous of Joaquin fucking Colt or Colt getting fucked by Joaquin, or if it's the fact that they were doing it without me.
And then there's the layer of watching them enjoy each other. The exchange they just had was so fucking sweet, and I don't do sweet. I don’t do emotions. Yet, here I am, all my emotions rocking and rolling into one another, and I haven't had enough orgasms or sleep to make any sense of it.
All I know is they were so focused on each other that they didn't even look around to see if anybody else was home. I'm pretty sure Abel’s out for the night, and yeah, I got back earlier than expected, but damn.
Fuck, I'm tired.
I decide against coffee. I'm sure I'm just tired and drained of fluids, and anyway, the crew gets up a little later on the weekends. I decide to aim for another hour or so of sleep.
* * *
