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
The weird exchange with the cute waitress seemed to be over. Trey traded thewine list for Zane’s zippered leather case. He opened it, pulled out the stack of bound pages, and flipped through them. Though his movements were swift, Zane knew his friend was reading.As he did, his expressive lips began curving. “You want to call your business The Bad Boys Club?”“It conveys a feeling. Exclusive but still fun.”“I agree.” Trey turned a few pages back and forth. “This is a big plan, Zane. A magazine. Luxury vacation properties.” His saturnine eyebrows quirked. “A fleet of fractional jets?”“I want to create a brand. I wouldn’t try to do everything at once.” Trey closed the neat report. “You’d start with the magazine.”“Yes.” Zane was relieved he saw it the same way. “I know magazines are risky, but this one is designed to be ad heavy. We’d do articles on the coolest expensive watches or the best wines for impressing your girlfriend. So many people are insecure about spending money. Whethe
He touched Zane’s waist when he arrived, fingers rubbing his skin softly. His tenderness might have been the only thing that could drag Zane’s gaze upward.“Take yours off first,” Trey said. “My surprise is under mine.” “You’ve really got a surprise.”“I really do,” Trey said.Zane kissed him, lips molding over his lover’s gently, hands flattened for balance behind his shoulder blades. The girl-soft kiss was more Trey’s style than his. When he let go, Trey was starry-eyed. Pleased with himself, Zane shucked his briefs, spun them around one finger, then plopped himself bare-ass naked on the couch.“All right,” he said, arms and legs akimbo on the leather, “show me what you’ve got in there.”Trey shoved the white briefs down his legs. Zane noticed his bare cock first, this being the natural magnet for his interest. He took a moment to realize Trey’s pubes were shaved.Then he saw the outline of the ornate monster.“Holy fuck,” he said, scooting forward on the cushion.Trey had a new tat