What He Left Behind(51)

Ian starts kissing his way down Michael’s chest. He did say he wanted to suck Michael’s dick, and my whole body is on fire just imagining the sight of it.

Michael bites his lip and squirms. “Fuck…”

Then Ian kisses above Michael’s navel.

And Michael sucks in a sharp breath.

His body goes stiff. My blood goes cold.

Ian and I both lift our heads.

And there they are—Michael’s nerves.

“You all right?” Ian asks.

“Michael?” I touch his face.

He closes his eyes, and the breath he draws this time is deep but controlled. Steady. He inhales, puts his hand over the top of mine on his face and exhales slowly.

“Easy,” I whisper. “It’s just us. Just you, me and Ian.”

Ian comes back up and eases himself down beside Michael. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Michael shakes himself and opens his eyes. “Oral is a weird thing for me. I should’ve said something.”

Ian glances at me, eyebrows up. What do I do?

“Do you want him to try again?” I ask Michael. “Or hold off for tonight?”

Michael scowls. “I want you to,” he says to Ian. “God, I do. But…” He shivers, lips pulling tight as he does, and I caress his face again.

“It’s just us,” I remind him. “Nothing has to happen. You’re not obligated to do anything.”

“I know.” Michael inhales. Exhales. Opens his eyes. Then he licks his lips and grins sheepishly. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s this—”

“Don’t apologize.” Ian kisses Michael’s forehead. “This is a new thing. I’m new to you.”

“You are. But I like this. Just have to get past—” Michael taps his temple.

“Take all the time you need. There’s absolutely no hurry. Tonight or any other night.”

“Thank you.” Michael curves his hand around the back of Ian’s neck, and he kisses him. Gently at first, but then they both come back for more. Michael opens to him, and Ian takes the invitation, deepening the kiss as Michael’s hand drifts lower. When Michael starts stroking Ian’s cock, Ian groans and kisses him even harder, and Michael gives as good as he gets—oh yeah, he’s definitely back.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Not just the fact that my husband and best friend are kissing and turning each other on, but that Michael’s actually okay. His nerves have raised their heads, but he’s tamped them down, and fast. I can’t help smiling as I watch the two of them kiss—Michael’s definitely come further than he thought. Of course I’m not surprised he trusts Ian, but his demons showed up when it was just him and me too, so they were bound to make an appearance or two tonight. The fact that he’s banished them so quickly, and recovered enough to get back in the game after just a moment of calming himself down—he can’t possibly know that’s nearly moving me to tears.

You really are back, aren’t you?

Oblivious to me, Ian breaks the kiss and meets Michael’s eyes. “All of this is at your speed. Whatever you want to do.”

“Good,” Michael pants against Ian’s lips. “Because right now, I want to f*ck you.”

Ian and I both stare at him. My heart goes haywire—Ian’s not much of a bottom, though he’s not opposed to it, but it’s this aggressiveness from Michael that turns me on like whoa. And blows my mind in the wake of that brief setback.

“You’re sure you’re ready for that?” I ask.

Michael’s gaze stays fixed on Ian. “Yeah.” He strokes Ian’s cock, biting his lip when Ian shudders and curses. To me, Michael says, “I’m definitely ready for it.”

“Thank f*ck,” Ian says. “So am I.” He kisses him again, briefly this time. “There’s lube next to the bed.” He grins. “How do you want me?”

“Depends.” Michael’s eyes gleam with lust. “You want it hard or slow?”

Ian shivers. “Is that even a question?” The grin broadens. “Hard.”

I’m surprised Michael doesn’t come right then and there. Hell, I’m surprised I don’t.

“If you really want it hard”—Michael nods toward the foot of the bed—“get on your hands and knees.” To me, he says, “Could you hand me the lube, please?”

Despite my hands forgetting how they’re supposed to work, I somehow manage to get him the lube from the nightstand without dropping it.

Ian gets on his hands and knees and holds on to the footboard. I lie down beside him, holding myself up on my elbow, and watch, my pulse soaring as Michael kneels behind Ian with the bottle of lube in his hand.

Michael puts some lube on himself. He inhales sharply—just stroking lube onto his cock is enough to make his breath hitch. As he positions himself behind Ian, Michael’s eyes are heavy-lidded, and he’s breathing hard already, but evidently he’s still focused enough to push into Ian.

“Oh…God.” Ian moans, closing his eyes and gripping the footboard. He rocks back, driving Michael deeper. They’re breathing almost in unison now, and their bodies are falling into synch like they’ve done this a million times before.

My mouth waters. Apparently there is something hotter than watching them make out in a hot tub. Jesus Christ.