What He Left Behind(50)

Wow.

One second, he’s hesitating.

The next, Ian tilts his head and moves in for more. His cheek hollows. Michael’s jaw relaxes. Across the tub, my balls tighten because I know how both men feel and taste when they kiss that deeply.

They pull apart and stare at each other. Both are out of breath.

No need to ask for a verdict. Their eyes say it all even before Michael licks his lips and Ian shivers.

“I have to say,” Michael murmurs, “that wine tastes even better like this.”

“No arguments here,” Ian growls, and kisses Michael again, harder this time. Together, they shift around, and Michael’s suddenly in Ian’s lap, straddling him. Without breaking the kiss, he grasps Ian’s wrist and guides it beneath the water. My blood pressure soars. Ian groans as Michael inhales sharply through his nose. Ian’s shoulder dips. Rises. Dips again. Michael shudders, digging his fingers into Ian’s arm. I can’t see Ian’s hand below the surface, but whatever he’s doing is driving Michael insane.

For all I know, they’ve forgotten I’m here, but I’m totally okay with that. There is officially nothing in the world hotter than watching my husband and my best friend making out in a hot tub. Jesus. Why didn’t we think of this years ago?

Because Michael wasn’t ready for it.

A chill cuts through the warmth of arousal and the hot tub, and memories flood my mind. How this all started with him. How he shied away from me. How he still flashes back sometimes when things get intense.

But…there he is. After the briefest possible conversation about it, he’s in. Arms around my husband, rubbing against him and kissing him as if that earlier flinch and all the ones before it never even happened.

Michael tilts his head back, and my skin tingles as Ian takes the cue and kisses his way down that beautiful bared neck.

“So, um.” Michael turns to me as Ian damn near bites him. “Yeah. That, uh, this’ll work.”

“You don’t say.” Shit, even I’m out of breath.

“I think we should go upstairs,” Ian murmurs against Michael’s throat. “Because I really, really want to suck his dick.”

Panic shoots through me—Michael’s okay with me going down on him, but Ian?

Michael drags his nails across Ian’s shoulder. “In that case, we should definitely go upstairs. Or else your neighbors are going to get a show.”

Relief replaces panic.

And then arousal takes over. Nothing but pure, electric arousal.

Holy f*ck, this is going to be hot.





Chapter Fifteen


We wait until we’re inside to slip off our swim trunks. Our privacy fence keeps out most prying eyes, but it’d be just our luck that the night someone decided to look would be the night we’d traipse naked into the house with hard-ons and a third guy. So, in the interest of keeping neighborhood barbecues from getting awkward, we step into the laundry room and peel off what little clothing we have on.

On the way upstairs, Ian steals a glance at Michael. Michael steals one at him as we step into the bedroom. And in the split second I turn away to close the door, they’re kissing. I don’t know who grabbed who, or who’s in control, or what, but the two most gorgeous men in the universe are naked, dripping wet and kissing next to my bed.

At first, all I can do is stare. I’ve fantasized about this plenty of times over the years but never imagined it would actually happen, and now, there they are. Soaked. Naked. Erect.

And why the hell am I just staring?

As I come closer, they break the kiss and turn to me, both grinning. They start to let each other go, but I put up my hands.

“No, no. Don’t stop on my behalf.” I lower myself to my knees beside them. “I can keep my mouth busy.” Closing my fingers around each of their cocks, I add, “Hands too.”

“He’s good at that,” Ian murmurs.

“Mmhmm,” Michael says. “Really good.”

Ian might’ve had a smart remark or something to add, but then I’ve got his cock in my mouth, and the only sound he makes is a soft whimper, which Michael promptly muffles.

I switch back and forth from Ian’s cock to Michael’s while they kiss above me. Someone’s hand is in my hair. Someone groans. I can’t tell one from the other, and there’s something ridiculously hot about that. It’s been years since I’ve had a threesome, and I’ve never imagined I’d actually have one with these two. This is going to be amazing. It already is.

Please don’t let this night end. Ever.

Michael’s hips rock. Fingers twitch against my scalp—they must be his, since they’re encouraging me to take him deeper in my throat.

“We should…” He pauses, and when I glance up, he’s kissing Ian again. Then he breaks away. “Bed. Before I f*cking collapse.”

“Good idea,” Ian says.

I release them both, and they each extend an arm to me. My legs are a little tingly from kneeling for so long, but they still work, and with help from the guys, I manage to get upright and onto the bed.

Michael winds up in the middle, and he’s barely horizontal before Ian and I both start on him. I kiss his mouth while Ian starts down his neck, and I lose track of Ian after that. All I’m aware of is Michael’s kiss, his hot body next to mine, his hand finding—and now stroking, oh God—my cock. Hands and mouths are everywhere. Skin on skin. Fingers in hair. Teasing nipples, stroking cocks, nipping skin here and there—I’ve never been in bed with two men as passionate as these two at the same time, and every second promises to drive me out of my mind.