Payoff (Market Garden, #6)(13)

“Uh . . . I . . . Holy f*ck.”

“That’s a good answer.” Tristan pushed in farther, pulled back out, and pushed right back in, slowly working himself deeper. Rolex was tight, and he was nervous, and he was trying very hard not to move.

Jared reached up and kissed him deeply, tongue and all judging by the way Jared’s cheek hollowed and both their jaws moved, and Tristan stayed still until he felt the man relax a little more. He used that moment to get all the way inside, groin flush to Rolex’s arse. “Oh, you’re tight. Bet you’re even tighter than Jared here.”

Between them, Rolex shivered. He pressed back against Tristan, and at first, Tristan thought he was trying to pull him even deeper. But then Jared moaned into Rolex’s kiss, and Tristan realised Rolex was trying to move inside him. Tristan drew back, Rolex followed, and then Rolex pushed forwards again. The two of them found a steady cadence, Rolex f*cking Jared while Tristan f*cked him, and after a few strokes, Jared broke the kiss and sank back onto the bed.

“Oh God.” He arched under Rolex, fingers gripping the man’s shoulders so tight it was probably painful, though Rolex didn’t seem to mind. Then Jared opened his eyes. He looked up at Rolex. At Tristan. At Rolex again.

And the most blissed-out smile spread across his lips. “You two are so . . . oh f*ck. You—” He cut himself off with a soft moan. “You two are so f*cking hot like that.”

Tristan leaned forwards, resting a hand on Rolex’s hip to steady himself, and kissed the side of Rolex’s neck. “He likes this,” he murmured. “Maybe we should give him more?”

Rolex turned his head slightly. “More?”

“Mm-hmm.” Tristan reached around Rolex and found Jared’s hard cock. As he stroked him, bringing a whimper out of Jared, Tristan thrust a little harder into Rolex. “Fuck him. Hard.”

He didn’t even know which of them moaned that time. He really didn’t care. Rolex was moving faster now, and so was he, and Jared’s dick seemed to be getting harder and thicker inside his tight grip, and as the room spun around him, Tristan wondered how much longer he could possibly last like this.

“Oh . . . shit . . .” Rolex arched against Tristan. His rhythm went to hell, but Tristan’s didn’t, and his thrusts forced Rolex into Jared again and again. “D-don’t stop.”

“Stop?” Tristan laughed softly beneath Rolex’s ear. “Not a chance.”

Jared’s hand disappeared from Rolex’s shoulder. A second later, Rolex sucked in a sharp breath and tensed, thrusting into Jared and not pulling out, and as Tristan kept right on f*cking him, he realised Jared had grabbed Rolex’s nipple. Probably pinching it, maybe twisting it, but whatever he was doing, it was driving Rolex absolutely insane, so Tristan gave him all he had, slamming into him, deep and hard. He released Jared’s cock and held onto Rolex’s hips—Jared didn’t protest. He was grinning up at Rolex, out of breath and flushed and probably not going to last much longer than either of them.

Then Rolex released a loud, helpless cry that almost took Tristan right over the edge with him. He shuddered between Jared and Tristan, as if trying to force himself deeper and at the same time encourage Tristan to give him more, and then he exhaled hard and slumped over Jared.

“Jesus Christ,” he slurred. “You two are amazing.”

Tristan grinned and quickly sought Jared’s eyes. They were both close, damn close, and likely Rolex wouldn’t mind a few more thrusts, but “wouldn’t mind” wasn’t exactly the most ringing endorsement. As he pulled out, he said, “If you get out of the way, we’ll give you one hell of a show.”

Rolex moved like a drunk, but he did manage to pull out and roll over. He dropped to the side, and made no move to get rid of the condom just yet.

Tristan cursed because he definitely had to get rid of his, and mid-f*ck, that grated. Regardless, he pulled the condom off and grabbed a new one, rolled it down and got between Jared’s legs. Sexually, they were hand in glove—a perfect fit in so many ways, and Jared loved Tristan getting a bit bossy when they were both close, so Tristan thrust in hard immediately.

Jared arched and groaned, wrapped his legs around him and pulled him into a hungry kiss while Tristan began to roll his hips, using all the self-control he had to deliver exactly what he knew Jared liked.

And how to get exactly what he wanted: Jared. Just Jared. His kiss, his body, him. Though Tristan was aware of the third man in the room, and aware of why they were all there, he let himself ignore the client, the objective, the money. Now that the air was clear between them, he could move inside Jared and touch him and kiss him without being certain that everything was this close to disaster.

To his side, Rolex moved and slid closer, running his hands along Tristan’s back. “Okay if I touch you?”

Tristan wanted to shrug him off and be alone with Jared, but this was Rolex. One of the hottest johns they’d ever played with, and as it turned out, a damned sweet one, too. He’d been good to them when Tristan had freaked out. He deserved better, and if there was anyone left in the world who Tristan didn’t mind sharing with . . .

“Yeah.” Tristan gave him a long glance and grinned. “Touch me all you like.”

Rolex found the lube and slicked up his fingers, and part of Tristan almost lost it when he realised what the man was planning. What the man did.