Bad Things (32 page)

“
Do you feel safe going out?”

Not really. But that was just paranoia, right? If Max and the Vulkova syndicate hadn’t already killed him, they didn’t know where he was. And it wasn’t like they were going to be at the beach, conducting a man hunt.

“Maybe you should shave my head. In sunglasses and Dario’s clothes, they’d never recognize me,” Carson teased.

Aidan frowned and furrowed his brow, pouting, “But I love your hair.” Combing his fingers through Carson’s sleep-mussed mop, suddenly Aidan looked shy, again. As shy as he’d seemed the first day they’d met.

“What?”

Green eyes nervously meeting his. “I’m not good at this, like Dario.”

“Good at what?”

“
You were so shaken up yesterday. I don’t want to…”

After the first few hours at the loft, Carson had more or less forgotten about Aidan being Aidan Novak. But at that moment it hit him, how surreal it was that the man behind “Grain,” and “Leviathan” was lying in bed with him, too nervous to speak.

“What?”

“
I just…if it’s not too much, I’d love to give you a good-morning kiss.”

One of those smiles we can’t control came over Carson, and that was enough for Aidan, apparently, because he smiled, too, leaned in, and lightly pressed his lips to Carson’s. An incredibly sweet, soft kiss, undemanding. Then it was over.

“I think we cleaned out the whole fridge, last night. We can pick up burritos, or something, on our way to the beach. Sound good?” Aidan asked.

“
Sounds perfect.”

In the late afternoon, when Dario was back from his meeting, and they were back from the beach, they carried three padded mats up to the roof to get some sun. As if there were no other option and the subject didn’t bear discussion, Dario stripped himself bare, and lied down on his belly. Once he’d taken off his shirt and undone his fly, though, Aidan seemed unsure of what he ought to do, so Carson gave him a smile and took everything off. After that, Aidan followed suit.

“
Maybe I should go down and get my camera,” Carson teased, though he really was tempted beyond belief by the sight of those two beautiful bodies lax and set in ideal relief by the slanting afternoon light.

“
Maybe you should,” Aidan met his challenge.

It felt strange, descending the stairwell from the roof to the loft, naked. Almost ten years out of his parents’ house and he still felt indecent walking around nude even when he was alone in his own apartment. Three days naked in Xavier’s basement hadn’t cured him of that hang-up.

He switched to the eighty-five and put on the polarizing filter before heading back up to the roof with his camera in hand, lens bag over his shoulder. When he got up to the roof, he wondered if he should have taken more time downstairs, because Aidan and Dario were loosely tangled, naked limbs interwoven, murmuring, kissing, murmuring again. Carson realized it was the first time they’d been alone together in more than twenty-four hours.

“
Did we spoil your shot by sitting up?” Dario asked.

“
No. I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

Those smiles. Warmer than the L.A. sun. “You’re not interrupting anything. Shoot away. Don’t be shy.”

He photographed a few of their kisses. Not passionate. Just tender. Smiles. Quiet words. Dario laughing. Small touches. Then they sank back down on their mats, soaking up honeyed rays of afternoon light.

Aidan. Dark curls of hair almost hidden in the hollows under his arms. Gym-perfected, muscular ass and thighs. The rounded channel running the length of his spine, between shoulder blades, dipping down with the small of his back, shallowing to a triangular delta just above his ass, just inches from where that deeper, darkly shadowed cleft began and fell away between his thighs.

And Dario. Would Carson ever learn to take his beauty for granted? Or would it keep startling him, day after day? Long, thick lashes doubled by the sunlight on his sculpted cheeks. Angled jaw almost severe with the light and shadow throwing it into exaggerated relief. Perfectly proportioned torso stretched taut, elongated with his arms folded under his head. Flat belly slightly hollowed by the position of his body. Hip bones rising like desert dunes. Cock smooth and soft, lying tranquil in its neatly manicured field of dark hair, sprawling over onto the golden skin of his thighs. Long legs, subtly muscled.

Finally Carson forced himself to put the camera away. Not because he’d exhausted the subject, but because he didn’t want his circling around them with the camera to detract from their tranquility. Stretching out on the third mat, he tried his pseudo meditation to escape the dark thoughts sneaking up on him as soon as it was quiet and there was no camera in his hands. Focusing on the sensations of the moment. The press of the hard rooftop against his hipbones through the softness of the mat. The sun’s heat on his skin. The faint tickle of the light breeze playing with his hair.

He fell asleep. Woke. Wanted to turn onto his back, but felt too weird about it, even though even Aidan was on his back, now. One arm draped over his eyes, shielding them from the light, other arm extended above Dario’s head, their hands lazily entwining, drifting apart, then together again.

Dario noticed him looking, and smiled. Feeling like a caught Peeping Tom, Carson flashed a quick, embarrassed smile and turned away. But a second later, Dario’s free hand was gently combing through his hair. A strange, bruising warmth swept through him. How could such a small gesture make him feel so comforted, and at the same time, almost wound him?

Then that caress stopped. It had just been Dario’s way of making him feel less like an intruder. Nothing more. Or he’d thought because Carson stayed turned away, passive, he hadn’t wanted to be touched. Carson made himself face Dario, to give him a smile.

But Dario had turned onto his side, and Aidan’s hand was wandering lazily up and down the length of it, sliding over his ass, his hip, then up again, along his neck, into his hair. Carson couldn’t see, but he could hear them kissing, the sound instantly sending a rush of blood to his balls, and making his chest ache.

After days of babysitting him, they deserved some alone time. A little privacy. Trying to be quiet, he started getting up, but Dario seemed to read his mind or hear his skin brush against the mat as he shifted.

Dario’s voice caught him just as he sat up. “Where are you going?”

“I have a couple emails I need to answer.”

“
Can’t they wait another hour? Or two?” Fuck, that teasing grin. Those eyes, still kind even when they were gleaming with mischief. “Because we had no intention of leaving you out.”

Dario turned onto his side, leaned in, and planted a kiss on Carson’s thigh, taking his breath and setting off a relentless thrumming pulse in his groin.

But he couldn’t really mean it. Aidan either. Not after his histrionics the day before.

Dario slid over until their bodies were almost touching. Leaned in. Nuzzled so lightly against his neck it tickled. On his cheek, a kiss so soft he barely felt it. Another, closer to his mouth. Then on his lips.

In a voice that was tender, even for Dario, he said, “You can say no, if you want to.” Gazing into his eyes for long seconds, suspended in that gaze that felt like welcome. Then another breeze of breath and brush of lips. “Do you want to say no?”

Afraid to say anything, afraid things inside of him would start crumbling and cracking apart again if he spoke a single word, Carson shook his head.

Feathered kisses down his cheek, over his jaw and along his throat unleashed a cascade of chills down his sun-heated skin, making Carson suck in a sudden breath. Dario smiled, then kissed his lips. Soft. Sweet. Lingering.

They made a circle of three. As their shadows lengthened and the sun painted the skyline orange, there were shallow, tender kisses. Tentative touches. Shy, exploratory caresses.

It was strange how overwhelming such cautious contact could be. Just Aidan’s fingertips brushing lightly over his shoulder blade sent a thrill sparking through Carson’s nerves. Or Dario’s lips grazing the nape of his neck.

Every inch of his skin was tingling. He couldn’t quite catch his breath. Dario seemed to notice him squirming, trying to bend his leg and drape his arm so they wouldn’t see he was already hard, even though they were hardly doing anything. He sighed and said, “You don’t think you’re the only one, do you?”

Taking a quick, shy glance, Carson saw that Dario was hard, too. And Aidan.

“
You’re allowed to touch us, too, if you want to.” Dario said it quietly, as if he were worried that the next word, the next touch might send Carson over the edge again. But Dario was perfect. That gaze made everything feel right and safe.

Of course he wanted to. He was fucking dying to touch Dario’s luminous skin, Aidan’s gym-cut chest and abs. And their cocks. Fuck. Yes.

Dario took his hand and pressed it against his chest. Gave him a look that made Carson feel like that contact was as rousing to Dario as it was to him.

“
Don’t be shy. Touch me all you want. Anywhere you want.”

Trembling, but hard as fuck, Carson touched. Caressed Dario’s silky warm skin, the smooth slopes and contours of his chest, barely brushing over his nipple, maybe even pretending to himself he hadn’t sought it on purpose. His touch provoked a quiet sigh that worsened the ache in his own hard cock.

For a minute or two, Aidan just watched, but now he slid over next to Dario, then pulled him back against his chest, put his arms around him, kissed Dario’s neck, his ear, provoking more sighs, making them rise, louder, higher. Then it was both of them, touching and kissing Dario’s body.

Fuck, he was dying to touch that incredible cock. Thicker and a little longer than his own. Perfectly hard. The swollen crown fat and rosy, a glistening bead of precum seeping from the slit. The rigid, veined shaft leading Carson’s eyes down to Dario’s big, dark balls.

They were both looking at him. Why was he so nervous? So hesitant?

Finally, holding Carson’s gaze, Aidan whispered to Dario, “Do you want Carson to touch your cock, love?”

A slightly teasing grin. “Yes. And the suspense is killing me.”

Carson brought his hand forward, curved his fingers around the shaft, just below the head, Dario’s quiet sigh washing over him. Fuck, what a rush, what an amazing feeling, holding that warm, hard member in his hand. Even if he touched his own cock every day, suddenly that velvety softness against his skin was new. Wondrous.

Lightly, cautiously, he brushed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the frenulum. Dario gasped, his hips tilting into that touch. Cupping his balls in his other hand, Carson teased that joint between the shaft and head again, loving how Dario bit his bottom lip, brow furrowing, dark eyes locked on him.

A strange urge overwhelmed Carson. Was it a weird thing to do? Carson shifted his hips forward, and pressed the length of his own hard cock against Dario’s, then held them together in both hands. A small bouquet. Two fleshy tulips.

“Oh, fuck,” Aidan sighed. “Please, you have to let me.”

He slipped out from behind Dario, bent down, gave Carson a teasing smile, then lightly curving his own hand over Carson’s, holding them in place, licked.

A warbling, startled groan escaped Carson’s throat. Fucking Jesus, he’d never been jolted so hard, so suddenly by the sheer arousal of a touch, by the sight of Aidan’s tongue sliding over the place where his and Dario’s tender flesh pressed together, then circling over and around and between them, their cock heads shiny with his spit, now.

He couldn’t stop groaning. He wanted to touch. To comb his fingers into Aidan’s hair. To caress Dario’s face, to touch his nipple again and hear that sigh and feel it stiffen, but his hands were trapped under Aidan’s hand. God, fuck, he already felt ready to come.

Dario bent forward, kissed him. So much. So wonderful, Dario’s tongue sliding against his tongue, Aidan’s tongue swirling over the crown of his aching, throbbing cock.

“
Stop. God, Aidan. Stop, or I’ll come.”

Aidan stopped, but Dario laughed.

“Carson, we’re really going to have to get you over this strange fear of climaxing.”

“
I just…I don’t want to…”

Dario waited with a patient smile, that calming gaze. Finally he asked, “What do you want, Carson?”

He wanted everything. But in his head, that sounded too greedy.

“
Would it be too much if I kissed you like this?” Dario asked, leaning in and brushing his lips lightly over his nipple, then looking up for Carson’s answer.

When he shook his head, Dario’s lips parted, and Carson’s whole body went electric with pleasure at the warm wet touch of his tongue on his nipple. Then he was holding his breath, writhing, as Dario sealed his lips against his flesh and sucked. When Aidan rose up, leaned in, and kissed his lips, Carson thought his heart was going to pop like an overfilled balloon.

Worried that he was being too passive again, that they were selflessly putting all their focus on giving him pleasure, Carson caught Aidan’s eye and silently asking permission, slowly slid his hand up his thigh, stopping just before he would have touched his cock. He adored that shy, lit-up smile of Aidan’s. Loved watching it waver in anticipation, then pleasure as Carson tentatively touched him. The way Aidan’s hard cock twitched in his hand, a tingling thrill rippled through Carson’s chest and groin. The way Aidan just barely pushed his hips forward, sliding his dick into his encircling fingers. Suddenly feeling bold, Carson flashed Aidan a teasing smile, bent down, and touched his tongue to the bulbous crown of his cock, overwhelmed by the sweet thrill of Aidan’s shudder and groan.