And why is it that when he does finally speak, it's to say, "Okay. But only on one condition."
"Name it," Reeve says.
"I'll kiss Wilkin, but only if I get to kiss you next."
"I'll do you one better." Reeve rests his hands over ours, pressing them into his strong quads. "Instead of you two kissing, then you and me kissing, then me kissing Wilkin so he doesn't feel left out, there is another way we can approach this."
"How?" I ask, too revved up to care the word came out as barely more than a croak.
Reeve's smile lights up his whole face. "How about the three of us kiss at the same time?"
12
Reeve
This is either the stupidest idea in the world or the single best thing I've ever come up with in all my thirty-four years.
"I'm in."
I turn to Jett in surprise. I'd assumed he'd be the holdout. Even though Wilkin is the more reserved of the two, Jett's animosity toward Wilkin is almost palpable. I don't get that same vibe from Wilkin. Yes, Jett irritates him, but I suspect his feelings are less intense. Of course, I could be completely wrong. I'm still getting to know them both, and I still have no idea what the cause of their actual beef is.
"Fine," Wilkin replies, his voice flat.
His eyes, though? They've been practically smoldering ever since my nine-inch announcement. I feel bad I lied to them about it. But what can I say? I didn't want to scare them off with the truth. It's more than nine inches and often too much for one guy to handle.
Twoguys on the other hand could definitely find a way to make it work.
I flick my eyes between them. "Final call to say no," I say, not wanting them to feel pressured into doing anything they might regret. "No harm, no foul."
"I'm good," Jett says, fixing Wilkin with an unreadable look.
"Same," Wilkin says, staring hard back at Jett then turning his focus to me. "And you're all good?"
"It was my idea," I remind him.
"Okay." He inches in closer as Jett does the same from the other side. "Let's do it."
Wilkin's fingers slide along the back of my neck, Jett's hand is in my hair. All three of us pull together, closer, closer, closer until our lips meet. We become a tangled, dizzy mess as lips and tongues collide, the sweetness of cheesecake and the aftertaste of vodka swirling between us. Pleasure soars through my body, electrifying me in a way I've never experienced before. I pull back a fraction, leaving just Wilkin and Jett kissing.
Jett notices and pulls away. "Come back," he murmurs to me.
"I will, but keep going," I say, running my hand up and down over my erection. "Let me enjoy this."
There's a moment of hesitation on Jett's part until Wilkin tugs him in even closer, and they keep kissing. Actually, making out would be a more fitting way to describe it, with, of all people, Wilkin taking the lead, kissing Jett like his very existence depends on it.
"How was that?" Wilkin asks me, licking his lips.
"Best game of truth or dare I've ever played in my life," I reply.
Wilkin's gaze drops to my hand, which I've left resting over my swollen cock under my jeans. He opens his mouth to say something when a loud cuckoo sound rings out in the room. All three of us jump, startled.
"What the fuck is that?" Jett asks, looking around the darkened room.
"Grandpa's clock. It only chimes once, at midnight. His bedtime."
"Holy shit." Wilkin clutches his chest. "Almost gave me a heart attack."
"What a way to go though," Jett says, smiling at him, so carefree it's like he's forgotten the reason he hates him.
