“Sorry, Ronan,” I apologized, stripping out of my clothes and dumping them in the hamper. “I got distracted.”
“That brain of yours?” he asked, pulling back the curtain and making room for me.
“I was thinking about you and Foster.”
He groaned, pushing me under the spray of the showerhead. “You know there’s nothing between him and me like that”
“I know,” I said quickly. “It just…I was thinking about sharing and swapping, and I thought about if I wanted to see you do those things and so, of course, I thought of him.”
“And?”
“And what?” I turned to face him, pushing water off my forehead.
“What did you think about it?”
“I think it’s a maybe, but a maybe on another day in another…” I shrugged and gestured vaguely in the small space between us.
“What about watching?” Ronan asked, stilling my hands. “Being watched. Eyes only.”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
Ronan kissed my fingertips like I’d done to him earlier and spun me back under the spray. “This is all for another time,” he murmured in my ear, dragging his hands down my sides. “For now, it’s just you and me.”
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he said back, fingertips inching lower. “Now how long do we have until company arrives?”
Chapter Five
Ronan
We didn’t have as much time as I would have liked. The shower had been quiet and soft, just running water and moving skin, but it had calmed me and soothed Kevin enough to get us through the night.
I wasn’t interested in entertaining with so much between us feeling raw and unfinished, but Rich and Sam were knocking down our door before I’d even gotten Kevin dried and dressed. Foster followed behind a handful of minutes later, a tense expression on his otherwise smooth and undisturbed face.
“You all right?” I asked, letting him in and handing him a glass of wine. Kevin, Rich, and Sam were already in the living room and I could hear them laughing and clinking glasses.
“Just…” Foster wiggled his shoulders and frowned. “A bit antsy.”
He gave me a despondent look, one I recognized all too well. What was it with all the masochists in my life getting the itch at the same time?
“You need to play,” I said. “Let out some of your tension.”
He looked ashamed, like his desires were a bad thing to indulge. Or worse, like he was lesser for having them.
“How long has it been?” I asked.
“Since you,” he grumbled, taking a drink of the wine I’d handed him. He kicked off his shoes in the entryway and looked down at his feet.
“Foster.” I rubbed a circle between his shoulder blades and watched the way his shoulders went soft, the way his head dipped toward his chest in resignation. Another familiar look for him. “You need a break.”
“I don’t,” he argued, however weakly. He dragged his chin across his chest and sighed. “I need…”
“I know.” I patted the spot on his back I’d been rubbing.
“I wish I wasn’t this way,” Foster mumbled. “I wish it was easier.”
“If only there was an auction where you could read the bill of goods beforehand and pick out who you wanted based on their likes and dislikes.” I laughed. “Seems a lot easier than your usual trial and error.”
