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Authors: Sloan Parker

More (33 page)

BOOK: More
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“Well, nothing he can do will break us up.” Richard lifted onto his elbow. With a soft touch, he brushed a few strands of hair off Matthew's forehead. “Will he hurt him?”

“I won't let him.”

“You'll tell me? If he contacts you again?”

“I will.”

“Okay. Night, Luke.”

“Night.” If it hadn't been such a long day, I would have confessed the rest.

But it had been a long day. An amazing day. I couldn't find the courage to ruin it.

Chapter Thirty-two

It took me the entire morning to work up the nerve, but I finally did it. I filled out the change of address papers at work, and for once, I gave the actual address of where I lived. My father already knew. I didn't need to hide that part of my life any longer.

I couldn't let the man destroy everything. He'd already taken enough.

The moment I gave Richard's address as my own, it seemed more official, legitimate, more than playing around in my private life.

I walked into the house after work with a huge grin plastered on my face. Matthew sat at the kitchen counter, flipping through songs on his iPod.

“Hey, Luke.” He came to me and offered a soft kiss.

“Hey. Is Richard late?”

“Yeah. He's finishing some calls for another meet-and-greet for his new investment property.” He kissed me again. His hands snaked up the sides of my shirt. His touch felt cold, shaky. Not right. “You taste like tea and lemons,” he said.

“I splurged today. Coffee this morning and tea this afternoon. I was pretty tired from the move, needed the extra caffeine.”

“It was a long day. Last night was intense.” He let go of me and sat at the counter. He fiddled with his iPod again.

“Yeah. Something wrong, Matthew?”

His head jerked up. “Nothing. I, uh... I don't feel right about it.”

“What? Last night?”

“God, no. I meant Richard's party.”

“What about it?”

He hesitated. When the front door opened, he clamped his mouth shut and scurried for the stove.

Richard came into the kitchen and passed out kisses and gropes. He held on to me longer than usual. His hands skidded over my ass, my arms, my hips, my neck, like he couldn't decide where to touch me.

He dropped his hands and moved to the stove.

What the hell was up with them?

Richard helped Matthew bring the food to the table. We ate in silence. I was about to ask what was going on when Richard spoke.

“I'm throwing another investor party. Since I've had a lot of back-outs on the Richfield condos, I need to get a few more people lined up.” His gaze shifted between Matthew and me before he spoke again. “I want you both to attend the party with me.”

Matthew dropped his fork to his plate. “Oh, good. I felt out of sorts about it all day. I mean, I knew you were working out the details, and I didn't know how to bring it up. I don't feel right about it anymore. It isn't just you and me. I don't want to do anything to hurt your business. I thought maybe we could take turns, but I didn't think that would look right either. I can't keep— ”

“Matthew,” Richard said. “It's okay. If they don't want to do business with me because I'm in love with two gorgeous, amazing men, then fuck them. If nothing else, all the straight women will want to work with me. They'll be so envious and turned on by all the cock I get, they'll be dying to see us together.”

I stared at them until my voice worked its way out. “We can't.”

Richard leaned back in his chair. “We can. I'm done pretending. I'm done with you thinking you aren't as important to me as Matthew is.”

“I don't think that. I know you— ” I shifted in my seat. “What are you suggesting? We just show up together wherever you're having the party, the three of us?”

“Yes. But I thought we'd have the party here.”

“Great idea.” Matthew picked up his fork and waved it in the air. “Might not be such a big deal if we aren't three men walking in together. Then it's our home, and if someone has anything to say we don't like, we throw their asses out.”

Richard's eyebrows rose. “Dang, kid.”

“What? I think it makes sense. You should only do business with rich people who care more about making money than about what we do in our own bedroom. Or poor people who know how to mind their own business. But then I doubt you'd make much money, so... I'd go with the rich, money-grubbing people.”

I laughed, the reaction so extreme my cheeks burned from the stretch. I'd give them whatever they wanted. I'd already taken plenty of risks. One more wouldn't kill me.

“Come on, Luke,” Richard said. “Enjoy your life.”

“Yeah. I want to. I guess we're coming out. Again.”

Matthew bounced in his seat. “This will be better than when I was fifteen. Back then I was only getting an occasional hand job from Curtis Halloway in the art room after school. At least now I'm getting the best sex of my life.”

Richard pulled Matthew onto his lap and kissed him. All the tension of earlier melted away. The kisses became needy, horny.

I cleared my throat.

Richard smiled. He whispered in Matthew's ear.

Matthew's eyes shot wide. He stood and headed over to straddle my lap.

“What did he tell you?” I caressed his thighs. His muscles twitched.

“He said I should make sure you're good and hard before he comes over here to attack us in three minutes.” Matthew rocked his hips. His tongue tangled with my own, and he sent my cock into the state Richard had requested.

Richard laughed. It was the last I heard from either of them before I was lost to the sounds of our sexual bliss filling the kitchen. Over the next hour and a half we enjoyed one another through two orgasms apiece. The kitchen table, the tiled floor, and even the countertops had never seen so much activity in one night.

After we admitted the floor was nowhere to sleep, Richard and I cleared the plates, moving around the kitchen naked. Matthew smiled to himself as he wiped the table.

I'd give them whatever they wanted.

Everything was ready to go: the caterers and their silver-plated trays, the servers dressed in pristine white shirts and black vests, and the bartender with his portable mahogany bar at one end of the living room.

I just wasn't sure I was.

I expected we'd be somewhat nervous, but I hadn't expected Matthew and Richard to be calm while I paced, bit my fingernails, and fidgeted with my tie like a kid about to leave for his first date.

I should have known. It wasn't like I was used to dating— I hadn't done so in the traditional sense at any time in my life. Years spent obtaining sex from one-night stands at parties, gay bars, and a sex club hadn't prepared me for my level of nervousness. It didn't keep me from wanting to be a part of the night, though.

I adjusted my tie again and stepped into the living room. The bartender was filling a glass with club soda for Richard. He had promised Matthew three times he wouldn't drink anything stronger. Matthew had insisted he was okay with it now, but I knew Richard. As long as he lived, he'd never drink around Matthew again.

When the doorbell rang, my stomach churned and a bitter taste settled in my mouth. I wished I could reach for a glass of anything strong enough to quell my nerves and numb my head. But I was finished drinking around Matthew too. He deserved at least that much from us. Especially since the rest of the guests filling our home would be drinking a shitload of alcohol. Free booze aided most anyone in taking a risk with their money.

The bald, older gentleman who entered had a kind smile and eyes that held a genuine delight to see Matthew and Richard. His gray-haired wife held on to his arm as they stepped inside.

Richard shook hands with the man. “Welcome, Joseph, Margaret. Come in. You remember Matthew?”

“Yes. Nice to see you again.” The older man nodded to Matthew, and the two shook hands. His wife gave Richard and Matthew each a kiss on the cheek.

Richard gestured for me to come forward. “Luke, this is Joseph and Margaret Mason. Joe and I are old friends. We worked together when I first moved to the city, and he was my first investor when I started my own business. Joe, this is my other partner, Luke.”

The older man reached for my hand, his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Other?” His eyes shot wide as our hands made contact. “Oh... nice to meet you.” He regarded Richard, shaking his head. “Two men? Aren't you getting a little old to be playing the field?”

Richard lifted a hand in protest. “Hey, just because the kid here's barely in his twenties doesn't make me old.”

“No, it doesn't,” Margaret said. “But the two of them here with you does make you far more lucky than most.” She winked at him.

Richard's laugh bellowed out of him. “It does.” Then he met the Masons’ stares with a serious look. “And we're not playing.”

Margaret nodded and embraced me before she took Matthew's arm on her way into the living room.

Joseph slapped a hand on my back and gestured for us to follow. “Luke, what do you do for a living?”

And on it went, introduction after introduction. Most were polite, a few gave questionable glances, and one woman gasped when Richard used the word partner, but overall the declaration was tolerated and well received at times. The talk turned to investment business and financial news, and it became apparent the status of their money and what people did for a living were far more important than what we all did in our beds.

After the servers had circulated trays of Gruyere tartlets and coconut-crusted shrimp and the bartender had poured glass after glass of wine, whiskey, and champagne, I relaxed. I mingled my way around the room and overheard Richard talking with Joseph Mason again. I turned away to afford them privacy to discuss their business dealings when I heard my name.

“I saw Luke and Matthew in the kitchen earlier. They looked chummy together.”

“Did they?” Richard's tone was casual and not at all alarmed.

“I have to ask: How can you stand seeing them together? Don't you get jealous? I mean they were kissing and holding each other. If I saw my wife with another man, I'd go crazy.”

Richard smirked and sipped his drink. “I love them both. It's different.” He faced his friend. “You want me to answer truthfully?”

The man's expression changed to one of somber curiosity. “Tell me.”

“I like to watch them. Sometimes when I come home from work, they are in the kitchen together, and I stop dead in my tracks. They will be setting the table or doing some other mundane task and the way they move together and touch each other is the most sensual, beautiful thing I've ever witnessed. They are amazing looking, and together they are stunning, but it's more than that. Each has an awareness of himself and his body that blends. I'm a fortunate man to see them together on a daily basis.”

I gasped. Matthew was sensual, sexy, beautiful. I was nothing of the sort.

Richard continued. “The attraction and affection you see between them— it isn't just about them. Wrapped up in that is me— their feelings for me.”

He could not have described it better. It was what I tried not to see when I looked at Matthew and Richard, but it was there. I was there. In them. With them. A part of them. We all fit together in a way we wouldn't if one of us left.

A deluge of guilt slammed into me. What would have happened to them? What would my leaving have done to them?

The doorbell rang again, and I groaned. I couldn't wait to get Richard and Matthew out of their clothes and into bed. It'd been a long night, and with each glance at my lovers, they offered me promises for later.

A man entered, and I spotted his graying hair but little else. It didn't matter, though. With one look, I knew.

I stepped through the crowd toward the door.

Matthew was shaking hands with Walter, the younger man's smile as warm and inviting as ever.

“How did you get an invite?” I asked.

“I have my ways. I was just saying hello to Matthew. I don't think I've ever had the privilege of meeting him before.”

Matthew smiled, always happy to see me, even when I'd been within a few feet of him all night. He turned back to Walter. “It's nice to finally meet you. Any friend of Luke's must be someone special.” He stepped back. “I'll let you two catch up.”

Walter didn't miss the look that lingered between Matthew and me. “Things are going better?”

“They are.”

“I'm glad. I do believe I said they'd be good for you.”

“They have been. I'm not sure I can explain it.” I paused and struggled to find the words. I settled on the truth of the matter. “I've become the man I didn't even know I wanted to be.”

He didn't tease any further. He must have deemed me sincere, or perhaps infatuated beyond all reason. He gave me a squeeze on the shoulder, nothing my father ever gave to me. “I owe them my thanks, then. For giving a dear friend a life filled with more than the club. Can I meet your Richard?”

I spotted Richard across the room and made my way to him. He excused himself from the conversation and met me near the bar.

I leaned in. “I have you to thank for this?”

“I wanted you to have a friend here tonight.”

“Thank you.” I stepped back and gestured to Walter. “Richard, I'd like you to meet Walter Simon.”

Walter accepted Richard's outstretched hand. “It's good to meet you.”

They already knew of each other from years spent at the club— whether they'd ever talked or not was beside the point. It was a moment for me to claim Richard and Matthew as mine, and the introductions were necessary, for them and for me. Walter was likely the only person of consequence in my life for me to make such introductions to.

Then, as if to mock my postulation, another unexpected guest arrived.

Natural curiosity caused me to turn my head toward the door. Matthew's small frame was sidestepped by a man of my height, a man with my own last name, a man whom I never wanted to see walk through my front door.

Chapter Thirty-three

I dashed out of the room, past the caterers in the kitchen, and down the basement steps in search of the privacy of our small playroom.

As soon as I reached the bedroom, the breath rushed out of me. I bent over and gripped the handholds of the bench. Who invited my father? What the hell was he up to? And what did a heart attack feel like anyway?

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