Barely four hours had gone by since Dylan’s phone call, and Mike had to absorb his first encounter with Dylan since their fight four months ago, seeing the two loves of his life endangered by fire, and now he had just learned that Laura was pregnant with their baby. Their baby. All three of them. He didn’t want to view it as his, or Dylan’s. But he had no idea Dylan felt the same way!
Pointing at Dylan, he said, “You, too?”The smile on his partner’s face was so telling, impish and serious all at once in a way only Dylan could pull off. “Me, too. She’s ours. Not yours. Not mine.”Would Laura agree? Mike wasn’t sure. Seeing her there, on her side, radiant and scared, made him want to bar the door and protect her from whatever the world threw her way. Radiant! Hah! Now he knew why she seemed to be glowing when he saw her yesterday at Jeddy’s, through that window.A happy pregnant woman, full of life. Full of his child.His daughter.Mike held the smartphone’s camera up and surveyed the soot-covered room slowly. Laura’s apartment building had just been opened for him and Dylan to come down, the fire investigation completed enough that they permitted residents to remove vital items. The conclusion: an electrical fire that started in the breaker box in the basement, directly under Laura’s place.She was damn lucky. A few more minutes and...well, he wouldn’t be holding a camera streaming live video to her on her smart phone, her sweet face asking questions and giving directions as she rested under a down throw on his couch, looking relaxed and healing nicely.His couch. At the cabin. When the fire investigators told her she wouldn’t be able to go back to her apartment for weeks, if not months, the structural damage too great for people to live there, the news had seemed to crush her. Quick to offer help, he and Dylan had both tried to get her to move in. Cabin vs. apartment?She’d chosen
A palpable tension sat between him and Mike on the car ride up the mountain, a third partner who wasn’t nearly as appealing as Laura. Unresolved emotions, unspoken words, and a sense of uncertainty made the air thick, kept Dylan’s nerves on edge, and finally forced him to blurt out, “I was a total douche. I should never have made us wait to tell her about the money, and I almost blew it, and now here we are with maybe—kinda—sorta—a chance with her, and I don’t want to fuck it up again.”Cringe.“If you’re a douche, I’m a bigger one. Mega douche. Thor the Douche,” Mike bantered back, his voice jovial, but his face serious. Eyes on the road, he seemed to feel the change in the car. They were talking. Really talking, once again.“How do we make this right with her?” Dylan’s words had an urgency, a plaintive tone he could hear in his own voice and hated.Mike shrugged. “I think this time we actually listen to her and Josie and do what Laura wants.”
Mike’s bronzed chest, with a sprinkling of sun-kissed hair, felt familiar and foreign under her finger tips, his hands lifting up under her thickened breasts, face gazing down and marveling, as if looking at a work of art for the first time. When his eyes met hers they were smiling, and he touched her lips with one finger. “I do love you.” Hand on her belly. “And her.”A lump in her throat made it hard to speak, Dylan’s hard, muscled form behind her, leaning against her back and ass. Heady from the touch of both, she tipped her face up and drank in Mike’s words. “I love you, too.” His smile, his mouth, their tongues touching as she was enveloped by manflesh, manskin, the two men who completed her—it made her feel truly, madly, intensely loved.Cherished.Dylan’s words were a trigger for so much more as he nipped her ear and whispered, “I love you, too.” Mike released her and she spun around, arms lifting over his shoulders, his muscled forearms on her back
TREY Hayworth had a choice. He could jack off to his dog-eared Victoria’s Secret catalogue or rely on his stash of torn out underwear stud ads. The Victoria’s Secret women were soft and curvy, the Calvin Klein men as ripped as gym rats in their groin-hugging briefs.Both made Trey’s eighteen-year-old cock swell up and harden.He could have used both to masturbate to of course, but he preferred to save that treat for his last climax. Privacy was precious. He liked to make a full meal of it.Trey’s father was a pharmaceuticals rep for a drug company. Twice a month he traveled out of town on sales trips. When he was home, he kept too close an eye on his son for Trey to risk breaking his anti-sex edicts. When he was gone, Trey had more leeway. His sort-of pal Kevin Dexter had shown him how to feed fake footage into his dad’s spycams, which gave him multiple days and nights to revel in freedom.He could pretend he was normal then. Crawl the mall. Crash a party if he knew of one. He wasn’t
Zane scrubbed his short sandy hair, then waved for him to come on. Trey didn’t vault over as picture-perfectly as Zane, but Zane wasn’t watching anyway. He’d moved to a nearby set of bleachers to sit on the bottom bench. Trey dropped beside him, not too close but not too far. Just because Zane was bi didn’t mean he wanted to do him. A trio of dry brown leaves blew across the track’s asphalt, the skittering sound a counterpoint to his not-quite-normal breathing.He knew it couldn’t be normal with Zane sitting next to him.“Sometimes I don’t know who I want to kill more,” Zane said. “Him for hitting me, or my mom for cutting out.”Trey wasn’t sure what to say to this. Everyone in Franklin knew Zane’s mom had run away to Trenton to live with some greasy guy who sold bargain mattresses. Sometimes his commercials played on late night TV.Fortunately, Zane didn’t require a comment. “What’s the bruise from?” he asked.“Belt. My dad caught me watching Baywatch. He’s got issues about sex. No,”
Trey’s climax gathered, his cock twisting tight with its last warning. Zane must have felt the shaft contorting inside his mouth. His cheeks pulled close, soft, his hand releasing Trey’s trapped testicle. Heat rushed outward from the freed spot. Trey gasped as his ejaculation shot from him.It felt like a flood to him, but Zane didn’t seem to mind. He sucked right through the contractions, his tongue doing things that kept Trey’s climax as sharp as it could get. When it ended, Trey didn’t recognize his own sigh. It was low and melodic, like he was singing his pleasure, like every muscle had released a tension he hadn’t known it held. His legs lost their grip on Zane, the soles of his running shoes slapping the compacted dirt beneath the bleacher bench.The sound seemed to wake Zane from his sucking. He let Trey’s cock slip free, the thing so exhausted he couldn’t even mind. With a casualness Trey found reassuring, he wiped his mouth on his T-shirt’s sleeve. Then, clearly not disgusted
REBECCA Eilert was dreaming. Same as thousands of other girls, she danced with a famous actor who’d invited her to prom. You look so pretty, he said. There’s no other girl like you. She didn’t believe him. She wasn’t that special, but she liked hearing it. When she laid her head on his shoulder, he rubbed her back. Let’s ask your parents if we can run away.The fateful words yanked her from her slumber, the slap of reality causing her heart to pound. She had no parents, and she couldn’t run away.Her mother was dead.Her father was permanently “off on business.”Her two seven-year-old brothers only had her to take care of them.Though no one had celebrated, her sweet sixteen had come and gone yesterday.Oblivious to her distress, Charlie and Pete were locked in their usual morning war. Who got to use the bathroom first was a favorite squabble, along with Pete’s habit of stealing his twin’s backpack. Charlie knew which one was his because it had no rip in it. When Pete yelled at Charlie
THE last four years had been the best of Zane’s life. Finally free of their fathers, he and Trey had gotten into Harvard. Zane’s way was paved by a football scholarship, Trey’s by a special economics prize. Trey might have been more surprised than anyone that he’d won it. His essay on the correlation between macro and micro markets had been submitted by one of his teachers at Franklin High. Though Zane wasn’t stupid, when he’d tried to read the doorstopper of a paper, he’d understood one word in two. The experience taught him an important lesson about his friend.Trey Hayworth’s smarts were easier for him to downplay than his sexuality.Zane didn’t hesitate to say yes when Trey tentatively suggested they room together off campus. Not only was this convenient for their continuing sexual hookups, but if Zane got lost in his classes, he had a built-in tutor. The arrangement turned out better than either predicted. For four years they worked and played with equal fervor, each one giving t