Despite all his efforts to disconnect from his past and embrace his future, it still felt like shocking sacrilege to suggest Jesus was anything less than pure. And yet, the Bible had all sorts of other stories about men who were awfully close with other men. He’d always suspected there’d been something going on with David and Jonathan.
“Outside of the Bible, there have been more cultures that support polygamy than I can count. Even in the modern world. Certain Muslim sects, for example. Tribes in Africa and Asia and elsewhere. And for those who don’t want to be all colonial and arrogant and misogynistic about non-western cultures, do you have any idea how thriving the poly scene is right now?”
The way Art grinned and teased him with a sparkle in his eyes made Graeme want to smile with him. He knew poly was a thing logically, but you didn’t just snap your fingers and override decades of conservative indoctrination.
“I ran away instead of staying to talk things out with you and Ryan,” he said, getting to the heart of why he felt so horrible.
Art shifted to lift one leg and rest it across Graeme’s legs, snuggling closer to him. “Darling,” he said, teasing and hot and wicked as he stroked the stubbly side of Graeme’s face. “We all get overwhelmed sometimes. But if you must know, having you watch is what pushed me over the edge. This might surprise you, but I am a shameless exhibitionist who gets off on people watching him get railed.”
Graeme laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“It doesn’t?” Art faked shock.
Graeme laughed harder, but there was a kernel of sadness under the growing ease of his troubles melting away. He lowered his head slightly and said, “I could never be as free as you are. Or as Ryan is.”
“No one could ever be as free as I am,” Art said. He moved again, straddling Graeme’s legs and sliding his hands down to the hem of Graeme’s t-shirt, then up over the bare skin of his chest. “I’m as free as a bird.”
His palms reached Graeme’s nipples, and he rubbed them until they were warm and tingly. He leaned in to capture Graeme’s mouth in a kiss as well. It was soft and close-lipped at first, then he swept his tongue along the seam of Graeme’s lips. When Graeme parted his lips, Art thrust in, kissing him with enough sensuality to short-circuit Graeme’s brain.
Graeme wasn’t entirely certain how he’d gotten there, but in a flash he was hot and hard and deeply willing to do whatever Art wanted him to do. The force of his desire was so intense thathe shook slightly as he gripped Art’s hips, holding on for dear life.
As quickly as it had started, though, Art stopped and rocked back. He was pink-faced and panting, and the front of his ever-present khakis was tented, but instead of going for it, he withdrew his hands from Graeme’s shirt and rested them on his shoulders instead.
“No,” Art said, catching his breath. “Not now. You’re not ready.”
Graeme wanted to beg to differ. He was so ready that he was worried a wet spot might form on the front of his sweatpants.
“I see that sparkle in your eyes, young man, but you arenotready,” Art said, as if he could read Graeme’s mind.
“I want to be ready,” Graeme said, feeling sheepish. “I liked being with Ryan in Cornwall. I…I’m starting to wrap my head around both of you and…and I think I would be ready to be with you, if you want me.”
Art made a sound of desire and frustration deep in his throat. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I didn’t come here to advance your sexual education. I came here, on behalf of me and Ryan, to make sure you’re alright.”
“What if I don’t know if I’m alright?” Graeme asked in a whisper. “How can I know?”
He felt like he might cry again.
Art slid off him and dropped to his knees on the floor between Graeme’s parted legs. He took Graeme’s hands and looked earnestly up at him. “I know this is a lot for you,” he said, running his thumb over Graeme’s knuckles. “For your sake and for ours, you can’t rush into something you’re not ready for. I can’t speak for Ryan completely, and things are still developing between the two of us, but I would rather ease into something deep and lasting than rush into something fun that might break if we’re not gentle with it.”
Graeme’s brow went up. “Are you saying that you want a…a relationship with me…and Ryan?”
Art’s impish grin came back with force. “Absolutely,” he said. “I’ve always struggled with commitment to just one man, but two? That’s more my speed.”
Graeme blew out a breath. “I never imagined myself in a relationship with even one man. Then I had one and it was a disaster.”
“Damien didn’t deserve you,” Art said, leaning in, hooking a hand behind Graeme’s neck, and kissing him. “Trust me when I say I deserve you,” he added with a wink.
Graeme laughed. He was still confused and uncertain, he still had a lifetime of believing the exact opposite of what was in front of him, but a blossom of happiness and fulfillment was starting to unfurl inside him.
“Now, come on,” Art said, standing and offering his hand to Graeme. “Our boy Ryan has an impossible fashion show to put together and zero time to do it in. We need to be there to support him every step of the way.”
Graeme stood with Art’s help, but gasped. “I can’t. I have a garden to design.”
“Come again?” Art said, tilting his head to the side.
“Mrs. St. Ives from Penwith Grange,” Graeme said, clutching the sides of his head. “She heard me say her gardens need improvement when we were there, and now she wants to meet with me to discuss designs and possibly hire me to redo her gardens, too. This is a chance of a lifetime and a way to take my garden design business to the next level.”
Art stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Leave it to the two of you to find yourselves in outstanding and impossible situations for improving your businesses, all at the same time.”
