Boston Avant-Garde 4: Encore (10 page)

“Gay is two men having sex.”

“Gay is a stereotype.”

Jericho’s jaw clenched as though he intended to break his teeth.

Dante tried a new approach. “Do I strike you as gay? Do I fall in love with the men who drift in and out of this casino?”

“No. Although you don’t chase the women either.”

“Exactly!” Dante had him thinking. Now they could make progress. “Sex isn’t about gender. It’s about pleasure and fulfillment.”

Jericho lifted one shaking hand to rub his eyes. Dante wished he could make this easier, wished he could make his friend understand.

“Did you enjoy last night?” Dante touched Jericho’s shoulder, needing the contact, however brief.

“Yes.”

“Did Suri bring you pleasure?”

“Yes.”

“Did I?” Above all else, Dante knew Jericho would be brutally honest.

“Yes.”

An inexplicable sense of relief made Dante almost giddy. He wanted to drag Jericho upstairs, wake Suri, and fuck until they were all too sated to move. “It gave me pleasure to touch you, even when your cock was in my mouth. It doesn’t make me gay. It doesn’t make me want to put every cock in the room in my mouth. I wanted yours. I still do. And I want Suri’s pussy so badly it’s all I can do not to run upstairs and take her again and again.”

“I don’t know if I can accept this.”

They were alone in the tiny alcove, hidden by the leafy plants and tooled screens that concealed the areas Jericho used for surveillance. Dante took Jericho’s hand and faced him. “It isn’t about accepting
this
; it’s about accepting
us
.”

Jericho didn’t pull away when Dante leaned in and brushed a light kiss across his lips.

CONFUSION MINGLED WITH desire in Jericho’s mind until he couldn’t separate one from the other. Dante’s lips were firm, the kiss unlike any that Jericho had experienced. It wasn’t distasteful. It didn’t feel wrong. And damned if his cock wasn’t sitting up to take notice.

What did that mean?

Was Dante right? If gay was just a stereotype, and desire wasn’t gender-based, did that mean Jericho might find himself bored of Suri and Dante and attracted to another guy?

Something akin to pain lanced through Jericho’s chest. He closed his eyes against the sensation. The thought of being with anyone else, male or female, was unacceptable.

“It’s getting late.” Dante turned to look over the balustrade again. Below them, the club was in full swing. “I think the place can take care of itself.”

Dante was leaving, heading back the way they’d come. Jericho took a few steps, leaving the marble for the thick carpet. He was torn by a longing to stick with what felt comfortable and an even stronger urge to explore what felt amazingly right.

“Are you coming?”

Torn by the duality of everything he felt, Jericho couldn’t even find the words to respond.

“This isn’t about making you uncomfortable, Jericho. It’s about finding pleasure in as many ways as we can.”

Dante made it sound so reasonable. As if Jericho would be nuts to turn down a chance to share that kind of intense passion with not one but two lovers.

I would be.

Jericho followed Dante’s lead into the corridor that led to the upstairs suite. Not many people knew the suite existed. The popular belief among the staff was that Dante lived in some kind of mansion in another part of the city. Truthfully, Dante rarely left the club unless he was attending some sort of political or social function as a reminder to those present that he knew enough to bring them lower than they could possibly imagine.

Dante keyed in an access code, and the entrance to his private bedroom swung open. Jericho filed through after him, closing the door and making certain it was locked. It was habit more than necessity that made him do such things. He sometimes wondered if Dante hadn’t sensed from the very beginning that Jericho had an innate talent for security.

“I don’t think she’s moved.” Dante walked toward the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.

A question formed in Jericho’s mind. It was something that needed answering but had been pushed to the back of his thoughts because of recent events. “Why were you getting drunk in your office last night?”

It was Dante’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Having a few drinks is hardly getting drunk.”

Jericho wasn’t letting Dante off that easily. “You want me to stay here and throw away all my boundaries? You first.”

Dante Torres was manipulative. A shrewd businessman who was lethal when it came to exploiting weaknesses to get what he wanted. That was the face he showed in public. Jericho knew him better. Dante had depths most people could not imagine. Jericho suspected Suri had either seen this or sensed it, which was why she didn’t seem cowed by the more intimidating aspects of his personality.

“The poker game the other night.” Dante’s voice was flat, a tone he often utilized to cover up how much something bothered him.

As it happened, Jericho knew exactly what poker game Dante was referring to. Patrons on Levels Three and Four played by slightly different rules than those on One and Two. Sex was a game, and partners were chosen, sometimes whether they were entirely willing or not. Both parties had to be consenting, but for some of their clients, it was all about the chase.

The poker game Dante referred to had been between two men who wanted the same woman. The first gentleman was from a prominent Boston family. He had the personality of a cockroach, with a tendency to turn up at the worst times, demanding things not meant for him. Which was why he’d ended up in the poker game.

The lady hadn’t wanted to be there at all that evening. She’d come with a friend, probably in an effort to forget someone else. Jericho had sensed almost immediately that Dante’s first instinct had been to let her go.

“Business is business,” Dante said, guessing the direction of Jericho’s thoughts.

Jericho nodded toward Suri’s sleeping form. “Except when its not.”

“That incident turned out all right, but if Nicolai hadn’t kept his head, it would have been a disaster.” Dante unbuckled his belt, pulled off his pants, and laid them aside.

Nicolai was the other man in the poker game. The one who’d been the lady’s first choice from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. He was also a man who’d spent time at Asylum during the early days, when the Irish mob in Southie had financed more than their fair share of things. Jericho didn’t think it was a coincidence that Nicolai’s reappearance inside Asylum coincided with Dante’s recent attack of conscience.

“You’re right. The night turned out just fine,” Jericho pointed out. “So why the liquor?”

Dante turned his back, and Jericho couldn’t help but admire the smooth line of his spine as it tapered down to his firm ass cheeks and long legs dusted with dark hair.

“I kept thinking we shouldn’t have turned that little shit loose on the world. It was like releasing a virus into the city.” Dante climbed into the bed and snuggled in close to Suri. She sighed in her sleep, cuddling closer to his warmth.

It was as Jericho thought. Dante was taking responsibility for someone else’s actions. “His family raised him. He’s their problem. Not yours.”

“Until his family fails to do something about him, and he injures someone else.” Dante brushed a kiss against Suri’s neck. “He’s the reason she was in here drinking last night too.”

The thought that one series of randomly related events could possibly be responsible for the three of them becoming involved in this strange three-way relationship was mind-boggling. Jericho stood stock-still for several moments, trying to reconcile it.

“Turn off the lights and come to bed, Jericho. You’re not going to solve the world’s problems tonight.”

He didn’t bother addressing Dante’s ridiculous statement. Instead, he picked up a remote from its spot on a delicate scrolled table and dimmed the lights until they were nothing more than a soft glow. Stripping out of his clothing, he climbed into the massive bed.

There was a certain erotic thrill to feeling the sheets on his naked skin. Dante’s heat radiated from Suri’s other side. Jericho moved in closer, careful not to wake her. She had already thrown one leg over Dante’s body and was using his shoulder as a pillow. When Jericho curled up against her back, she burrowed in deeper and wound her arm around his. When he realized the hand he’d flung around her was laying low on Dante’s belly, he didn’t move it. It felt too good to be wrapped around their warmth.

Suri wondered if it was possible for a good dream to combat the effects of a crappy mattress. She’d never dreamed herself into a toasty warm apartment with a featherbed before, but there was no doubt that was where she was. She struggled to sink back into sleep, dreading the moment her alarm would go off. That would guarantee an instant return to her frigid bedroom, sagging mattress, and the crabby sister whose own single bed shared the tiny space.

“Good morning, princess. It’s all right to wake up, although you’re welcome to go back to sleep if you’d like.”

Dante’s velvet baritone brought her fully awake like a bucket of ice water thrown in her face. Suri sat straight up, yelping when she had to grab the sheet to cover her bare breasts.

“It’s a little late to be shy, don’t you think?” Dante tugged the sheet down and cupped her breast. When he brushed the pad of his thumb across her nipple, she let out an unconscious sigh of pleasure.

“See, I know what you like.” Dante continued to stroke her, shifting his body and replacing his thumb with his mouth.

It felt so good! She groaned, unable to stop herself from leaning into the attention. She pushed her breast into his mouth until he was sucking hard, and her clit throbbed in response. At some point she became aware of another body in the bed, on her other side.

Dante let go of her breast. “He’s a fairly heavy sleeper.”

“We—all three of us—shared this bed?” It was obviously true, but she wanted confirmation anyway.

He lounged back on the pillows with a grin of total satisfaction on his face. “You were asleep when we got back last night. It seemed better to climb in beside you than wake you up.”

“It’s probably the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on.” She figured there was no harm in telling the truth.

“And the company?”

Her gaze lingered over each muscle in Dante’s torso, the grooves that had been painstakingly etched by nature. “I think I could get used to that too.”

“Should we wake him up?” With his scar, the playful grin on Dante’s face was almost predatory.

Suri twisted around to stare at Jericho. He looked so peaceful she hated to disturb him. He lay on his back with one arm thrown up over his head and the other resting on his stomach. His olive-toned skin was free of body hair but carried several scars. A crosshatch of pale lines on his right bicep, a long slash over the right side of his ribs, and a quarter-sized raised scar on his left shoulder that looked like it might actually be from a gunshot. What kind of life had he been leading that it was so determined to batter him?

His long lashes lay against his cheeks. His eyes were closed, but she knew they were hazel, tinged with green. Thick, tapered eyebrows matched the short hair on his head. A strong, straight nose and sensual mouth completed his facial features. She brushed her fingers over his lips. He didn’t stir.

“I told you—deep sleeper.” Dante didn’t seem disturbed by her intense study of Jericho. “Try starting lower if you want to wake him.”

There was just a hint of the devil in Dante’s tone. She didn’t have to do much imagining to understand what he’d insinuated. Tugging the sheet lower, she exposed Jericho’s thick cock. Half the size she knew it could be, it rested in a nest of sparse, dark hair. Leaning over, she brushed her lips over the plum-shaped head. The muscles in his belly tightened.

“Again, Suri. Take him in and suck his cock,” Dante urged.

She did as he asked, taking the entire length of Jericho’s soft penis into her mouth and sucking gently. Using her tongue to push him against her palate, she made tiny noises that vibrated against his skin. The muscles in his lower abdomen grew taut, and his shaft lengthened. His thickening cock was too much to hold all at once. Suri let him go with a
pop
and moved lower, her tongue tickling his balls.

“Don’t stop.” Jericho’s sleep-roughened voice gave her a thrill.

“You’re too big for her to take all at once.” Dante nudged her gently aside. “I think I might be able to help out.”

If Jericho’s muscles were taut before, they were positively rigid now. Suri whimpered, arousal rushing through her veins and making her pussy cream in response to seeing Dante take Jericho’s cock in his mouth.

She lapped at Jericho’s testicles, sucking lightly as Dante swallowed Jericho’s cock all the way to the back of his throat. Jericho clenched his hands for a brief moment as if fighting his response. Seconds later, he gave in and threaded his fingers through Dante’s dark hair.

A low pull of desire in Suri’s belly made her sit up. Watching was almost too much. The obvious acceptance in the way Jericho touched Dante warmed her in ways she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Dante sucked hungrily on Jericho’s cock, his tongue stroking the shaft and circling the head. He bobbed up and down as if trying to drive his friend mad with sensation overload.

“Enough, Dante.” Jericho fisted his hand in Dante’s hair and dragged him away from his cock. “I’m not ready to finish just yet.”

As turned on as she was by watching them together, Suri felt strangely left out. If they were that in to each other, did they really need her?

“Come here, love.” Jericho caught her hand and tugged her closer. “It’s been too long since I kissed you last.”

Any reservations died when Jericho’s tongue slid into her mouth. His familiar taste left her desperate for more. She all but crawled up his body, straddling him in her eagerness to get closer. His erection was trapped between them, his head damp with the precum leaking from the tip.

She whimpered when Dante stroked her nether cheeks. “Has anyone ever taken you in the ass, princess?” His fingers drifted lower, into her slit. It was hard to concentrate with Jericho making love to her with his mouth.