Maddox shook his head, and I saw a flare across his eyes. It was like he was lighting up at the memory, even though it must have been terrifying. I could understand. I was getting hot and hard just from listening to it.
“What does this guy do next?” Maddox asked, picking the story back up. “He jumps out of his car, still waving his gun in the air. Then he pops his trunk and yanks out a gallon of gasoline. Still screaming his ass of about me being a thief, he dumps it all over my bike, flicks his Zippo, and tosses the flame straight at my ride while he walks away.”
“Ball of flame,” I said. “Holy shit.”
“Blew up like you wouldn’t believe. I had to dive to the ground and run away. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my head, and he is, too! But I tell you what, I felt those flames against my cheek for weeks after.”
I pulled Malcolm a little closer, feeling his warmth against my side. He looked pretty damn cute in Maddox’s flannel, and it made me want to rub up all over him. “That must have looked amazing,” I said.
“It was pretty fucking cool,” Maddox agreed, chuckling. “But that’s not the reason I’m telling you the story. You know why I am?”
I glanced at Malcolm out of the corner of my eye, and then we both shook our heads.
“I’m telling you that story because the guy who went speeding down the street, waving his gun in the air? He liked to race motorcycles. He liked to do every foolish, selfish, impulsive thing he could think of. It’s a miracle we both made it through that afternoon without getting arrested or killed.” He leaned back against the couch again. “Guys like that aren’t cool,” he said, his voice suddenly softer, almost kind. “They’re the maniacs in someone else’s story. And while I’m still here, I would guess he’s not doing quite as well.”
I swallowed, hearing the core of his lesson despite myself. Still, I didn’t like getting lectured like that in front of Malcolm. “So no motorcycle racing,” I said. “I got you.”
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse that day,” Malcolm added.
Maddox shrugged, taking a drink from his wine. An owl called out across the forest, its hoot echoing in the mountains. “I’ve had a lot of luck,” he said.
“Me, too,” I said, pulling Malcolm a little closer to me. “Although I could always use a little more.”
Maddox chuckled, and Malcolm draped his hand over my leg. “I’m sure everyone could use a little more luck,” Maddox said.
I turned to Malcolm and saw the quivering look on his face. His gaze turned from Maddox to me, but the look in his eyes stayed the same. His pupils were almost watery with need, and when I glanced down, I saw that he was rock hard.
I didn’t know if it was from Maddox’s story or just from being so close to me. Probably it was from both of us and the way we were each eating him with our gaze. When I saw that need in his eyes, though, all I cared about what getting Malcolm what he wanted.
I turned and brushed my thumb over Malcolm’s lips, earning a shiver in response. “You feeling lucky, Malcolm?” I asked.
Malcolm sputtered. “Gunner,” he finally managed, his voice soft. “Maddox doesn’t want to watch us flirt.”
I turned back to Maddox. “I don’t know if that’s true. You must think we’re pretty sexy. Don’t you, Maddox?”
Maddox let his hand fall between his thighs. “I know you think you’re pretty sexy,” he said. “Although it’s not really about looks.”
I kept my thumb next to Malcolm’s lips, and he leaned his head forward, pressing his teeth down on my nail lightly.
“What’s it about then?” I asked.
Maddox squinted a little back at me, still smiling. “It’s about what you do. How you treat a person.” He paused, returning his eyes to Malcolm. “It’s about how you touch someone.”
Malcolm bit down harder on my thumb, whimpering quietly to himself.
I let Malcolm take my thumb further into his mouth, sucking on it almost like it was giving him comfort. “I know how to give a guy what he wants,” I said, then turned my face, kissing softly at Malcolm’s neck. “Don’t I?”
Malcolm nodded quickly, but his eyes were straight on Maddox. It was like he was scared of what Maddox was thinking.
But I wasn’t worried. I knew exactly what was going through his mind. His thick cock was rock hard in those tight jeans he liked to wear, and he was giving us the eye.
“Then what do you want, Malcolm?” Maddox asked, spreading his legs a little further.
Malcolm’s sucked in a breath. “What do I want?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, still kissing at his neck. The more I played with him, the more turned on I was getting by the idea of Maddox watching us. It felt almost like putting on a show for him, and I had a lot I wanted to show. “Tell us what you want, my prince.”
MALCOLM
