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I grinned. “So, who else is in this group of guys? Do they all know about me?”
He stiffened. “No, of course not.”
“No?” I asked softly. “It would be okay if they did.”
He grimaced. “Well, I mean, they know about our first hookup and about us running into each other at the rehab center. But, um, not that things have continued.” He paused. “Except Hollywood. He saw me get a text and grilled me about you.”
I nodded thoughtfully. That pretty much lined up with what Hollywood had told me. Not that I’d doubted it.
“They all know about Dakota,” he said quietly. “It was their idea for me to write a letter to her.”
“So, tell me about them.”
Joey told me about Tex, the southern country boy who’d been a little intimidating at first, and Ghost, who was grim, mostly silent, and still intimidating—but in a good way.
“I didn’t know there was a good way to be intimidating,” I said with a chuckle.
“Really?” Joey said, lips quirking. “You kind of do it when we have sex. Getting all bossy.”
“That’s for you,” I said. “You want me that way.”
Joey met my gaze, his eyes dark with emotion. “I want you any which way, Kit. You don’t have to do anything special for me.”
I shifted sideways, our knees bumping, and cupped his cheek. “It’s the same for me.”
I could see he didn’t entirely believe me. That was fair. I’d set us on this course. Our relationship—such as it was—had been defined by my anger and resentment after discovering Joey’s role in Dakota’s accident. I’d set the terms, and Joey had gone along with every request. But I didn’t want it to be that way anymore.
“I mean it,” I said softly.
He tilted his face toward me, and I gave in to the urge to kiss him. It was soft and sweet. Our lips clung, lingering. Joey’s hands slipped into my hair and tightened. His tongue danced over my bottom lip. I opened at his urging, meeting his tongue, enjoying the frisson of want that shot through me.
He swung a leg over my thighs, straddling my lap, and sat on my hardening cock. I groaned and yanked his shirt up and over his head. Joey was lean but toned, with only the smallest smattering of dark brown hair between his pecs and arrowing down below his navel. I skimmed my fingers over his ribs, his skin hot to the touch.
He leaned into my touch, silently asking for more, as his kiss became more demanding. I ran my hands down the length of his torso, then curved them around to cup his ass.
He broke the kiss with a gasp. “Want you so much.”
“Want you too.”
“All the time.” His voice was vulnerable. “Kit, please…”
My throat grew tight. “Yes. Always yes, Joey.”
I kissed him, unable to put into words the ache in my heart. We slipped sideways, landing on the sofa, entangled, Joey on top of me. I pushed my hands under the waistband of his jeans, kneading his ass, hips surging up to rub my hard-on against him.
Pogo ran through the room, nails clicking, an excited whine escaping his throat. I ignored him. He probably just wanted me to play, and I had a more entertaining game in mind.
There was a click, and then—
“Oh, crap!” Dakota’s voice cut through the room. “My eyes! They’re bleeding! Felipe, protect me!”
Joey tried to scramble away so quickly he fell off the sofa and landed with a thump on the floor. Pogo, who was dancing around Dakota in greeting, charged toward Joey to sniff out the damage. He followed the sniffing with a lick to Joey’s chin.
How bad could a guy be when my dog’s first instinct was to take care of him?
The door was standing wide open, with Felipe hovering on the threshold behind my sister. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard them arrive, but I’d been pretty caught up in the moment. I sat up and grabbed Joey’s shirt, still on the sofa beside me.
“You okay?” I asked him.
