Evan’s attention came to Finn. His thumb pressed to the base of Finn’s spine. “I want to watch you.”
The words hit Finn low in his gut, a jolt that tightened everything from his navel down. He took a breath. Took another. “Yeah?”
“And then I want to be the one who takes you home.”
Finn’s lips went dry. He finished his wine in one swallow and set the glass on the nearest surface. “Okay.”
Finn crossed to the woman. Up close, she smelled like red wine and rosemary. Her gaze was green and amused.
“I’m with someone,” Finn said.
She glanced past his shoulder at Evan. “I can see that. He’s been staring at you since you walked in.”
“He wants to watch.”
Her expression curved. “I can work with that.”
They talked for two minutes. Enough to establish what she was into, what she wasn’t, what the signals were. She was direct and specific and didn’t apologize for any of it, and Finn liked her immediately. Her name was Rae. She didn’t offer a last name and Finn didn’t ask.
The corridor had a curtained-off area at the end: a wide daybed, the glow amber and low, the curtain pulled but not closed. A few inches of gap. Finn clocked it. Didn’t close it.
Evan sat in the armchair by the wall. Arms crossed, legs apart, his spine to the plaster and his attention on Finn. His jaw was set and his lips pressed flat but his breathing was too fast, and the contrast made Finn’s cock throb.
Finn had done this before. Threesomes, group things, exploratory sex that came with being twenty-one and bi and curious and unashamed. He had never done it with someone watching from across a room who made his fingers tremble. Every other time, the other people had been the point. Tonight Evan was the point, and Rae was the gorgeous, willing frame around it.
Rae kissed Finn first. Her lips were warm and tasted like wine and she kissed with authority, her fingers finding the nape of his neck, her tongue sliding along his. Finn kissed her and his body responded the way his body always responded to someone confident, his palms finding her waist, pulling her closer. She was tall enough that the angle was easy. She bit his lower lip and Finn heard Evan’s breathing change from the armchair. The noise traveled straight down Finn’s spine. He was hard before Rae’s fingers got anywhere near his belt.
Rae got it open. Got him out. Wrapped her fingers around him and stroked with a grip that was firm and knowing. Finn’s head dropped and he made a noise that echoed off the low ceiling, and from the armchair Evan made a noise too, low, involuntary, the creak of the leather as his weight shifted. Finn kept his attention closed and tracked Evan by ear alone. The shift of fabric when Evan uncrossed his arms. The leather creaking under him. The inhale when Rae twisted her wrist on the upstroke. Every noise Evan made was a line drawn between them, and Finn’s body was tuned to it, every nerve ending pointed at that armchair.
“He’s watching,” Rae said near Finn’s ear. “He hasn’t looked away once.”
“I know.”
She sank to her knees and took him into her throat, and Finn’s fingers went to her hair, threading through the short strands, his hips rocking forward. She was good, her tongue flat on the underside of his cock, working a drag from base to tip before she closed her lips around the head and sucked. Finn groaned and his hips pushed forward and she took it, her fist wrapping around the base to cover what her lips couldn’t reach. She set a rhythm, unhurried and knowing, and her free palm pressed flat to his stomach, holding him in place.
From the armchair, Evan’s breathing had gone audible. Short inhales through his nose. Finn opened his attention and looked at him. Evan was white-knuckling the armrests, his legs spread, his cock hard in his slacks, the outline visible in the low glow. He was watching Rae’s lips on Finn’s cock with his own lips parted, and when Finn’s gaze met his, Evan’s throat bobbed and his weight shifted.
Rae pulled off long enough to lick a stripe from base to tip, her tongue tracing the vein on the underside, then took him deep, her nose brushing the base, her throat working around him. Finn made a noise that cracked in the middle, and Evan made one too, low from the armchair, and the two noises in the same space at the same time was enough to make Finn’s thighs shake.
Then Evan stood up.
The leather creaked and Finn’s gaze snapped open and every hair on his body stood up. All this chasing, and now Evan was walking toward him without being asked.
Evan’s palm landed on the nape of Finn’s neck. His grip was firm, fingers pressing into the tendons on either side of Finn’s spine, and the whole dynamic shifted. Finn was between them now. Rae on her knees in front of him, Evan behind him, palm on his neck, Evan’s body pressed to his spine. Evan’s cock washard through the fabric, and Finn ground into it and Evan’s breath caught at his ear.
“You’re so good.” Low. Rough. A voice Finn had never heard from him. “Taking everything we give you.”
Finn’s knees buckled. Not from the words. From the fact that Evan Tremblay, who had been running from this for years, was standing behind him in a space with the curtain open and his palm on Finn’s neck and his voice sayingyou’re so goodwith the authority of a man who had stopped asking for permission. Finn had wanted this. Had pushed for it, schemed for it, waited for it. And now Evan’s grip was on his neck and Evan’s voice was in his ear and the wanting had become having, and having was so much bigger than wanting had ever been.
Evan caught him, his arm wrapping around Finn’s chest from behind, holding him upright. Rae pulled off and looked up at both of them, her gaze bright, her lips wet, and she smiled and stood and kissed Finn’s cheek and then kissed Evan’s cheek too. The three of them stood there for a second in the amber glow of someone else’s spare room.
Rae touched Finn’s jaw once, her thumb tracing the line of it. “He’s yours,” she said to Evan. Then she dressed and left, the curtain swishing shut behind her.
Evan turned Finn around. His palms on Finn’s waist, his gaze so intense it bordered on something Finn didn’t have a word for, his breathing ragged. Evan pushed Finn until his knees hit the edge of the daybed and Finn sat, looking up at him. Evan stood over him and Finn could see his cock straining in his slacks, could see the flush climbing his throat past his loosened collar. Evan reached down and ran his thumb across Finn’s lower lip, pressing into the swell of it, and Finn’s lips parted on reflex.
“Touch yourself,” Evan said.
Finn wrapped his fist around his cock. He was so hard it ached, slick from Rae’s tongue, and he stroked himself whileEvan stood over him and watched. Long strokes, root to tip, his thumb circling the head on every pass, spreading the wet there. Evan’s fingers found the side of Finn’s neck, his thumb on Finn’s jaw, tilting his face up.
