I wonder if he’s having some sort of fit until Desi hides a chuckle behind his fist, and I realize I’m making Charlie more nervous. How can a person be so composed in emergencies yet socially anxious?
“Oh…that’s nice.”
It comes out forced, and my brother laughs harder, his face turning red and his eyes watering. I’m as bad as the man between us and completely fucking this up.
Charlie grins, perhaps also finding my struggle amusing. “I like Lucas.”
I return his smile, the sensation unfamiliar, and his gaze drops to my lips.
My dick stirs, and my tone lowers. “You want to kiss me, Lucas?”
“Y-yes,” he says without hesitation.
Cupping the back of his head, I lean in slowly, giving him the chance to change his mind. He doesn’t, and when our mouths meet, he releases the sweetest groan—as if he’s been waiting forever to be genuinely touched. Fuck, I know that feeling.
I swallow it down, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft and gentle. Our tongues intertwine, his hand moving to the back of my neck, gripping me, and my heart beats a violent rhythm.
The urge to have him in my lap, his body against mine, my mouth on his skin, is fierce. Before I take it too far, I break the kiss but don’t release him. I’m not sure I can at this point.
My gaze finds my twin. “What’s next, brother?”
The smug grin plastered on his face tells me he knew what he was doing when he invited Lucas over, knew I’d want him.
Des snatches Lucas’ controller and tosses it on the coffee table then shuts off the TV. Only the shimmering reflection of the pool dancing on the ceiling remains.
“My turn.” With desperation, Desi devours Lucas, their kiss punctuated by soft moans.
I’m hard and aching. Lucas wants us both; we want him. Desi was right—he’s perfect.
Just tonight, or maybe a few nights, I tell myself, knowing it’s a lie, knowing this could be something more.
Desi pulls back and grabs the hem of Lucas’ sweater. “Can I take this off?”
He hesitates, and, not ready for this to end, I nod toward the other side of the studio. “Let’s move this to the bed.”
He’ll be less exposed and more comfortable under the covers.
***
Lucas
(AKA Charlie)
My lungs are sore; I can’t catch my breath. Only in my wildest dreams did I picture the three of us together. I’m still clutching Dante’s nape like a lifeline when he lifts and sets me on my feet as if I weigh nothing at all.
They waste no time stripping, clothes strewn from the couch to the bed.
I’m a little slower, unable to take my eyes off them. They’re absolutely stunning—defined muscles flexing as they move, tattoos I want to study and draw.
Out of habit, I face away, removing everything down to my boxer briefs.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, initially startling me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Your ass is utter perfection.” Desi rolls his hips, his impressive length grinding between my cheeks, and trails kisses over my shoulder. “I can’t remember the last time I was this fucking hard.”
He runs his hands over my chest and stomach with no reluctance or revulsion then slips into my boxers, palming my erection. His strokes are unhurried, his lips worshiping my skin. I tip my head back onto his shoulder and allow myself to feel.No doubts. No anxieties. No insecurities. Just the bliss of this moment.
“Des. Share,” interrupts Dante’s gruff voice.
