Hide Out (20 page)

“Open-minded of you,” Wash said.

Completely missing the sarcasm, Terrance shrugged. “I try to be open-minded about people. Now Len, on the other hand… I hate to say it but the guy’s kind of a redneck. You’d think with that weird kid of his, he’d be a little more tolerant.”

Pete made a noncommittal sound.

“In fact,” Terrance went on, “the sheriff should talk to that little freak. He’s always creeping around, spying on people. He probably saw something.”

“Has he spied on you?” Pete asked him.

Terrance dropped his gaze. “No, not on me. Abby said something about him looking in the window or some shit though. She’s so nice, she didn’t want me to beat his little spying head in.” Finishing the last quarter of his beer in one go, he set the empty bottle next to Trevor’s hip. “Better get back. She’s probably getting all spooked with me gone.” He hurried down the walk and across the street.

“Yeah,” Wash muttered. “He’s one tolerant motherfucker.”

Rhodes snorted. “Tolerant and truthful.”

“He was lying his ass off there at the end, wasn’t he?” Pete mused. “Wonder what Danny saw Terrance doing.”

“We should ask him,” Trevor suggested, gesturing with his beer at the house across the street, where Danny’s silhouette was outlined in the large front window. When they all looked over, the blinds dropped down, hiding him from view.

“Don’t think he wants to talk to us, Trev,” Wash told him as he stood and stretched.

“Since Terrance the Terror drank the rest of our beer, anyone want to start the sleepover?”

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* * * * *

Even though everyone mocked Trevor for making popcorn, they all ate it as they lounged in the living room. Although the late-summer evening wasn’t too cool, Pete started a fire in the fireplace, using the wood from the branches he’d trimmed. The ambiance of the flickering flames was worth the extra heat.

“I was thinking,” Trevor told them, “about what Pete said. Why
would
Marsha go off on Greg after all this time?”

“Yeah?” Pete prompted.

“When Greg was coming on to me in the kitchen at the barbeque, Marsha walked in on that.”

“Ooh.” Wash winced. “That’d do it.”

“Possibly,” Rhodes said. “How’d she react when she saw you?”

“Stopped like she’d just run into a wall,” Trevor answered. “Then she turned around without saying a word and left. I could tell she was flustered, since she almost ran into Terrance on her way out.”

“What’d Greg do?” Pete asked.

“He didn’t seem too bothered by it, although it did distract him enough for me to get out of there without having to knee him in the nuts.”

“I don’t know.” Pete didn’t sound convinced. “Marsha as a dick-slicing murderer?

Gay ex or not, she just doesn’t seem capable of that.”

Rhodes gave a grunt of assent. “Doesn’t seem enough motivation either. Who cares if their ex is fooling around with a guy?”

“Especially Trev,” Wash said. “He’s beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to make out with him?”

“Watch it,” Pete growled, his eyes narrow. Trevor squirmed in his chair. Pete jealous was a pretty sight.

“Chill, Petey.” Wash laughed. “No one’s trying to steal your man.”

“Better not,” Pete grumbled and Wash laughed again.

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Chapter Eleven

“I can’t believe you had an extra blow-up mattress and you didn’t tell us,” Wash bitched from the living room as Pete and Trevor brushed their teeth, crammed into the half-bath.

“You slept right on the floor last night?” Trevor called back around a mouthful of toothpaste. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch is right, you hoarding fucker,” Wash yelled.

“Floor my ass,” Rhodes’ voice rumbled from the other room. “You slept on top of me.”

“But I felt your pain,” Wash cooed. “I’m indignant for
you
, Rhodie.”

“Whatever, princess,” Rhodes scoffed. The men’s voices grew softer, interrupted by an occasional growl of laughter. Trevor concentrated on rinsing his mouth. He carefully didn’t meet Pete’s eyes, oddly shy at the knowledge the other two men were messing around in the next room.

“Think we should pull our bed in here?” Pete asked in a low voice, bumping against him.

Risking a glance at his teasing eyes, Trevor smiled. “Don’t think we’d fit,” he said resignedly, and Pete laughed.

“We’ll have to go on a long walk tomorrow,” Pete said, following Trevor out of the bathroom. “Give these two some alone time.”

As they walked into the living room, Trevor cleared his throat loudly. “We’re coming in. Hands where I can see them, dicks where I can’t.”

The guys laughed. They’d imitated Pete and Trevor’s arrangement of two zippedtogether sleeping bags on top of the air mattress and were laying front to back, covered to the waist and naked above. Rhodes’ arm was draped over Wash’s side in a way that was both comfortable and possessive.

Ever since Trevor had known Wash and Rhodes, there’d been no question the two men were together. Even when they were arguing, they were connected. For the first time, Trevor didn’t have the usual pang of envy for their easy relationship. Stealing a quick look at Pete, busy poking at the remains of the fire, Trevor felt a warmth seep through him instead. He was part of his own twosome now. He had his own connection, his own guy who sent a trill of excitement up his spine whenever he looked at him.

With a satisfied smile, Trevor yanked off his t-shirt. His hands hesitated at the button on his jeans, feeling a little awkward about stripping down in front of Wash and 114

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Rhodes, but then took those off as well, figuring he couldn’t really sleep in his jeans. In just his underwear, he climbed into the sleeping bag.

Glancing over at Wash and Rhodes, he noticed their attention was caught by the same thing. Following their gazes, Trevor turned his head to see Pete pulling off his shirt over his head. The glow from the fire lit his chest, coloring the curves of his muscles red and darkening the grooves as black as the crumbling carbon remains of the logs.

Pete dropped his jeans, bending over to pull them clear of his feet. Trevor checked to see if Rhodes and Wash were still paying attention and they definitely were. Pete stood up straight, naked except for the form-fitting boxer briefs, and Trevor caught his breath. The guy was perfect…and he was Trevor’s.

A rush of possessive pride hit him by surprise. He was out of bed and standing before he realized what he was doing. Unmoving, Pete watched him approach, the flickering light tossing strange shadows across his face. When Trevor reached him, uncertainty made him hesitate. This stranger made of hammered bronze was a different Pete than the one he knew. The eerie light, the pair watching with lustful eyes, the desire that hung in the room like a low-lying fog, thick and sticky…all of these things tightened Trevor’s stomach and stiffened his cock.

When Pete raised his hand, Trevor jumped. He felt silly for being startled but Pete had been still for so long, Trevor almost expected him to act like a statue. Reaching for Trevor’s nape, Pete caught the band that held his hair back and pulled it free.

“I like your hair,” Pete said softly, catching a handful and letting it slip through his fingers like water. Trevor shivered and half-closed his eyes.
I like that you like my hair,
he thought but didn’t say it out loud. Even in his head it sounded silly and Trevor already acted like an idiot around this man. Instead, he just stood quietly, allowing Pete to play with his hair.

Catching a strand, Pete slid his fingers down to almost the bottom and brushed the ends against Trevor’s lips. They parted on a small gasp and Pete released his hair, using his finger to trace Trevor’s bottom lip.

Trevor met the fingertip with his tongue, inviting it into his mouth. Closing his lips, he sucked at it, nipping at it in frustration when Pete refused to give him more than the very tip of his finger.

“If we were alone,” Pete whispered next to his ear, “I’d spank your ass for that.”

A sound escaped Trevor’s throat that was embarrassingly close to a whimper. Pulling his finger free, Pete held Trevor’s face in both hands and brushed his lips over his temple. Trevor closed his eyes, giving himself up to the strong hands cradling his jaw and the lips leaving trails of heat everywhere they touched. Pete kissed his closed eyelids, the bridge of his nose, the edge of his cheekbone. With a sigh, Trevor tried to tilt his chin up but Pete’s hands kept him in place. Those teasing lips touched his face again and again, everywhere except his mouth, where Trevor was dying for them to be.

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“Kiss me?” he begged in a cracked whisper. “Please?”

In answer, Pete’s lips finally settled on his, touching down lightly for a long, sweet moment before his tongue broke the chaste seal of Trevor’s lips and eased into his mouth. With a hungry groan, Trevor met the invading tongue with his own, petting and stroking before he sucked it deep into his mouth.

He felt more than heard Pete’s sharp inhale. Digging his fingers into the hard muscle of his ass cheek, Pete yanked Trevor against him, hard. His mouth was ruthless as the kiss went wild, sucking and biting until Trevor was shaking and pliant, desperately wanting to be fucked.

There was a small noise and Pete broke the kiss, staring over Trevor’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he rasped and Trevor looked at him in surprise, wondering why he was apologizing, until he realized it was directed toward Wash and Rhodes.

“Oh!” he said, twisting his head around to look at them. “Sorry.”

“You kidding?” Wash asked, sounding a little breathless. “Don’t mind us. It’s like our own live porno.” Trevor noticed Rhodes’ hand wasn’t on top of the sleeping bag anymore but had disappeared beneath it. His hand seemed to be moving in the general region of Wash’s groin. That could explain Wash’s lack of oxygen. When Pete dropped his hands to Trevor’s waist and tucked one finger into the waistband of his underwear, Trevor’s heart immediately took off. The beats thundered in his ears, his stomach clenching with a mix of excitement and apprehension and flatout lust. Pete’s hand lowered a few inches, dragging Trevor’s boxer briefs down his hip and exposing the top of his left ass cheek to the view of the two men behind him. Trevor caught his breath, tipping his head forward to press his sweating brow against Pete’s shoulder. There was something so incredibly naughty about this fire-lit striptease, from Pete’s slow-moving fingers to the quiet rustling and breathing sounds from the audience on the floor.

Snagging the opposite side of his underwear with his other hand, Pete slid the fabric down another few inches until it bunched beneath his cheeks, showing off his entire ass. Pete palmed the globes and squeezed hard enough to make Trevor gasp. One hand stayed on his ass cheek as the other one circled his hip to find his cock, swollen and leaking with need. His fingers closed around the hard shaft, sliding up its length until Pete’s thumb could slide over the head, spreading the moisture around the tip.

With a low groan, Trevor pressed his forehead harder against Pete’s shoulder, fighting to hold his hips still and not thrust into the other man’s grip. The hand on his ass wasn’t helping Trevor’s control. Pete’s fingers delved into the crevice between his cheeks, finding his tight hole and shoving a finger inside. Trevor sucked in a breath as pleasure radiated from front and back, buzzing along his spine until his entire body vibrated. Pete’s hands moved up and down on his cock, in and out of his ass, and all the time the other two men watched. Trevor imagined 116

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what it looked like from their angle, what it would be like to see that thick finger piercing his clenching ass. Pete’s fist tightened around Trevor’s cock and he came, biting Pete’s shoulder as he exploded.

“Fuck!” Pete hissed out, his hand still moving, milking the last of Trevor’s semen from him in a final burst of juddering pleasure. They stood for a moment, panting, and then Pete tugged Trevor’s underwear back into place. Trevor gave an apologetic kiss to the spot where he’d gripped Pete’s shoulder with his teeth. Wash’s groan brought Trevor’s head around. Both Rhodes’ and Wash’s faces were tight with desire.

“Excuse us,” Rhodes gritted out, standing up and hauling Wash up with him. Both of their erections bulged against the front of their underwear. They almost ran to the tiny half-bath, slamming the door behind them.

“Guess we’re in the kitchen,” Pete said, and Trevor gave a short, breathless laugh. Pete washed his hands at the sink while Trevor admired the shifting muscles in his back. He traced a line across the other man’s shoulder blade and Pete went still. Trevor smiled and drew a twisting loop, enjoying the way Pete’s muscles twitched beneath the skin at his touch.

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” Pete admitted, shutting off the water but not turning around. Trevor traced a spiral on his back as he listened. “Didn’t mean to do that in front of them.”

Trevor smiled. “I didn’t mind.” His fingers pressed harder, massaging rather than drifting over his skin.

“Yeah?” Smiling, Pete glanced at him over his shoulder then faced away again.

“After we kissed, I looked up at them and I w-wanted to…”

“You wanted to what?” Trevor found a knot and used the heel of his hand to work it out.

Pete groaned. “Shit, that feels good.” He was silent for a beat. “Guess I wanted to sh-show them I could do anything I w-wanted to you. ’Cause you’re mine.” When Trevor’s hands stilled, Pete shot him another quick look over his shoulder. “That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Trevor said, suddenly not able to breathe but in the very best way.

“Probably.”

“Yeah.” Bracing his hands on the counter, Pete sighed. Leaning in, Trevor kissed the point on his spine where his neck met his back and felt Pete shiver beneath his lips.

“I already knew,” Trevor told him, kissing a line down his backbone.

“Knew I’m a jealous, f-fucked-up freak?” Pete asked with a laugh. Lowering himself to his knees, Trevor tugged Pete’s underwear down to his thighs and licked his tailbone. “No.” He pushed Pete’s ass cheeks apart so he could kiss his puckered hole. “I already knew I’m yours.” He jabbed his tongue into Pete’s ass. 117