His touch was unexpected. So much so Atticus wasn’t sure whether he should pull his arm away or ask Slade to touch him some more.
Of course, Slade solved the problem by moving his hand.
“Yeah. Why?” Atticus asked, pulling his arm into his lap and rubbing the spot Slade had touched.
“Your phone’s been buzzin’.”
Sure enough, his phone buzzed where it was resting on his leg.
“Is it the team?”
“No,” he said, reading the text message from Carson.
—I heard about JJ. How can I help?
“Your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Atticus said before he could think better of it.
Granted, it was the truth. Yeah, he might’ve told Slade he was dating Carson, but it was more of a casual thing at this point. It couldn’t be more than that right now. Not with Atticus heading to Dallas for six weeks.
“Your fuck buddy?”
Atticus frowned and glanced at Slade. “Do you have a problem with me seein’ Carson?”
Slade’s head snapped around. “What? Of course not. Why would I?”
Awfully defensive for a guy who didn’t care. The question was whether Slade was against Atticus seeing Carson or vice versa. Considering the two men used to fuck—as both Slade and Carson had so crudely put it—there was a good chance the guy was still pining for him.
He suddenly heard Slade’s voice in his head, the memory of that morning in the hotel room flooding his brain.
Oh, God. Fuck. Suck me, Atticus. Yeah. Like that. Just like that. Suck harder … oh, yeah … I’m gonna come in your mouth.
Atticus wasn’t sure whether Slade had been dreaming or merely jacking off, but he still heard Slade’s deep, rumbling voice as he said Atticus’s name.
He was pretty sure Slade had no idea Atticus had overheard him. If he had, surely he would’ve said something about it.
Suddenly, Slade’s voice was replaced by Carson’s as the memory of last night returned with a vengeance.
Are you thinkin’ about me or Slade?
What?
You like the idea of me fuckin’ Slade?
Atticus hadn’t been thinking about it at the time, but it was as though Carson had planted the seed on purpose, and now Atticus couldn’tstopthinking about it. He’d even dreamed about it last night while in Carson’s bed. He’d dreamed that he had woken up to find Slade in bed with them, looming over Atticus, his cock lodged deep inside him while Carson was behind Slade, fucking him.
It was by far the hottest, most intense dream Atticus had ever had.
It was also the most perverse thing he’d ever dreamed about.
There was no way he would even consider being with both of them at the same time, even though he wouldn’t deny the idea of it did something for him. From the moment he overheard Slade in that hotel room, Atticus had been fantasizing about the man. Not on purpose. In fact, he was trying damn hard not to.
Thank God he was going to Dallas. Atticus figured that was the only way he would be able to stop his mind from wandering into dangerous territory.
Remembering where they were and what they were doing, Atticus shut down the racy thoughts and focused on more important things. Like finding JJ. She was all that mattered right now, and it would serve him well to remember that.
***
