Chapter Eight
Demir
I selected a bottle of red from the cabinet as Marco and Grayson got comfortable in the main living space. The center of the loft stretched out beneath a high ceiling of exposed wooden beams, and a few large, sleek couches were clustered in the center. Marco draped himself onto one of the couches, and as I watched, Grayson glanced back and forth, then settled carefully on the opposite end.
Desire for each man burned inside of me. Grayson sparked me with curiosity. I wanted to hear what sounds he would make if I tangled my hands in his hair or tugged him tight against my hip. Just as strongly, I needed to see how he and Marco came together, how their bodies would press.
I sat on the couch that was adjacent to Marco, then poured the wine and passed along the glasses. Grayson’s shirt clung to his biceps, and I could see how firm and solid his muscles were. I thought about undressing him and wondered how his body would feel in my hands—where it would be soft, where it would be rough.
“I guess we don’t have to be too coy,” Marco said, “considering how we met.”
Grayson smiled, and I saw a light blush on his cheeks, warming his almond skin. “I guess not. But we should probably talk about some things first, right?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
Grayson paused, and I saw a flicker of insecurity. Like at the club, he still held his confidence and his posture, but a slight widening of his eyes and a hitch in his breath gave him away. “I’m not quite sure how to say this,” he said. “I don’t want to make assumptions just because you own the club, but I also want to make sure I’m clear.”
I held my hand to my chin, uncertain where he was going.
“Okay,” Marco said, encouraging him.
“I want to explore what it’s like to be with you,” Grayson continued, “but only if there’s a chance this could grow into something more than just a sexual relationship.” He glanced between us, and Marco reached his hand backward, resting it on my knee. My mind slowed, working over the question he was asking, the question Marco and I had been trying to find a way to ask each other.
“I’m not asking you to commit to anything,” Grayson said. “But if I’m going to get closer to you, I need to know that more is possible.”
Marco caught my eye. His gaze was clear, and as light reflected against his pupils, we both knew how to answer the question.
“Yes,” Marco said. “We’re still figuring this out, too, but yes. We’re open to more. We just haven’t figured out yet how much more.”
I nodded. “We don’t have as much time as any of us would like, but we do want to see where this goes, if you don’t mind our limited availability. And we certainly don’t expect sex every time we see each other.”
Grayson seemed to think very carefully. He took another sip from his wine, then set the glass down and turned to Marco. His lips were softly parted, and as he looked back and forth between us, he nodded and bit down lightly on his lip.
Marco reached his hand toward Grayson, who crawled forward to get closer.
“Can I kiss you?” Grayson asked, lying his hand on Marco’s knee.
“Yes,” Marco whispered, and my breath caught as they leaned into each other, brushing their lips together softly, teasingly.
Grayson pulled himself up, then turned to me. I rose to my feet and joined them on the couch. As I sat beside Grayson, he took my face in his hands and pulled me in for an equally tender, slow kiss.
His lips were soft and puffy, and the catch of his stubble followed with burning pleasure. Once we parted, Marco joined us, and we began to taste each other and explore each other with our fingertips.
I knew every tender spot and soft curve of Marco’s body better than my own, but when I touched Grayson, I was touching him for the first time. I sunk my fingers into his side as our tongues met, and he curled his leg over Marco’s, pulling him closer. I don’t know how much breathless time passed with hands in hair and lips caressing lips, but when we finally parted, my dick was fat and stiff in my boxers.
“You’re so sexy,” Marco said, stroking his hand through Grayson’s hair.
Grayson’s lips were puffy from kissing. His hand was lying across my thigh, and when he curled his fingers, a shot of electricity went up my body. “You’re both so hot I can’t even handle it,” he said with a soft laugh.
Marco laid his hand on Grayson’s stomach, then tucked it up beneath his shirt. Grayson let out a soft noise, close to a moan, as Marco stretched his fingers up Grayson’s abs. “Can I take your clothes off, Grayson?” he asked sweetly.
Grayson eyes narrowed, and he looked nervous, almost hesitant. He started to nod softly, but then paused.
His face broke open in a smile, a look in his eyes that was almost mischievous. “You can undress me,” he said, “if I can watch you undress each other, first.”
“Smart kid,” I answered, planting a kiss on Grayson’s cheek. I stood, then lifted Marco by the arm. “Come here, babe. Let’s get you ready for Grayson.”
Marco bounced a little on his feet, and I remembered how he used to act when he was still nervous around me. I thought it was the hottest thing, and it always made me want to unravel him, just like Grayson’s soft blush made me want to take him apart, piece by piece.
