Three of a Kind, Book 3
Trev Greenfield pocketed his mobile phone and swallowed back his agitation. Still no message. Shit. Tonight, more than ever before, he wanted his phone to beep.
He set the box of poker chips and cards on the table and turned to put out glasses and drinks.
The lights above him flickered and died, cloaking him in darkness.
Well, freaking perfect. Poker in less than an hour, and no lights. No text message, either, but hey, who’s keeping track?
“Trev?” a feminine voice called from the other side of the house. “The power’s gone again.”
He laughed softly. As if he needed the heads-up. Still, he couldn’t get annoyed. Not when it was Grace Miles stating the obvious. It seemed anything that came out of his new housemate’s mouth was welcome. So long as he could hear her voice, he was happy.
“How often does this happen in Sydney?” Grace yelled. “It’s the third time in as many weeks.”
“Not often at all,” Trev called back and inched his way to the lounge room. “Almost never, in fact. Something must be wonky with the power supply to the neighborhood.”
“Yeah? Well, I wish they’d fix it. I’m running late.”
“You going out now?”
“Uh-huh. Got a date.”
Lucky man. Trev wouldn’t mind dating his gorgeous housemate. With her long blonde hair, unbelievable curves and breasts that begged to be touched, Grace was easy on the eyes. Very easy on the eyes indeed. Which surprised Trev, seeing as he usually didn’t give women much of a second glance. Not that he had anything against them. No, not that at all. He’d had his fair share of women in the past, and he’d enjoyed them all heartily. Lately, however, his taste favored men.
Tall, ripped men with hard asses and jet-black hair. Men with eyes so blue they shocked him every time he looked into them. Men who knew how to kiss him to fire up his senses and where to touch him to keep his body burning. Men who he spent the night with maybe once every week or two. Men who should be texting him right about now to see if they’d be spending tonight together.
Fuck, who was he kidding? Trev wasn’t interested in men. There was only one man who had his attention. One very hot, very sexy diamond dealer he hadn’t seen in six weeks, thanks to his diamond dealings around the world.
Thinking about Max Ashberg made his cock ache, and he rubbed it, trying to ward off the frustration and pain. If the man would text him, he could answer yes and spend the rest of the evening secure in the knowledge that relief was but a few hours away. Relief, pleasure and a night of blistering passion.
Or maybe it wasn’t Max he ached for. Maybe it was Grace.
Since she’d moved in with him, her sweet, feminine aroma had been doing crazy things to his libido. Wild, unexpected things. Never mind her scent, looking at her had him twitchy and aroused. It was those damn pajamas of hers. The flimsy silk that didn’t cover nearly enough flesh.
Watching her breasts swaying gently beneath her top? It blew his mind. Fuck knew, he shouldn’t be looking at his roomie’s braless breasts, but when she walked into the kitchen in the mornings he simply couldn’t help himself. No man could.
Fuck with a capital F.
Trev squeezed the base of his dick through his jeans. Fantasies about his gorgeous housemate in a dark house were not a good thing. Not when those fantasies were all twisted up with dark hair, blue eyes and a cock so perfect Trev’s mouth watered thinking about it.
“Trev?” Grace called again. Only this time her voice was much closer. She’d walked into the lounge room, and he hadn’t noticed.
He yanked his arm to his side, thankful it was dark enough she wouldn’t have seen him cradling his cock. “I’m right here.”
He should have noticed her presence. Hints of vanilla wafted in the air around him, the unmistakable aroma of Grace. The scent made him want to fall to his knees and bury his face between her legs.
How long had it been since he’d tasted a woman’s pussy? Since he’d burrowed his tongue between her legs and licked her creamy folds?
Two years. He’d lost the yearning to make love to anyone else after his first taste of Max.
Headlights from a passing car lit the lounge room momentarily, and there she was. Meters away from him. Then it was dark again.
“Take my hand,” he told her and reached out blindly in her direction. “For your own safety. With my luck I’ll trip right over you and knock us both unconscious.” Clumsy was Trev’s middle name. If there was a plate to be dropped, he dropped it. A glass to be knocked over, he knocked it. Grace had learned quickly to put all her pottery gear away lest Trev trip over it and break it.
“Good idea,” she answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice. There was one lady not willing to take any chances in the dark with him.
She must have taken advantage of the temporary illumination and stepped forward, because he found her sooner than expected. Only in typical Trev style, it wasn’t her hand he found.
Her sharp intake of breath was his first indication he’d reached a part of her body he hadn’t intended to. The tingles racing across his palm and shooting up his arm were the second sign, and the tightening of his already hard penis the final confirmation that he’d cupped his hand neatly around her breast—her plump, luscious and, oh, fuck, bra-free breast—and squeezed ever so softly.
No, the squeezing hadn’t been intentional. It had been instinctive. If he didn’t move his hand the hell away, he’d squeeze again, and then again, and then he’d use both hands and probably his mouth as well.
“Hell.” He dropped his arm like he’d burnt his fingers. “Sorry, ’bout that, Gracie.”
It took her a few seconds to answer. “It’s okay.” Her voice, usually a low sensual hum, was slightly higher than he’d heard it before. “It’s dark in here. If anyone was gonna make that kind of mistake, you’re it.” She chuckled.
Trev laughed with her, feeling anything but humorous. “Yeah, or maybe I’m being a typical guy and taking advantage of the dark to cop a feel.” Because that’s what he was. A typical guy. Craving a man’s cock and a woman’s pussy, like any other guy out there.
Grace snorted. “You grabbed my breast on purpose?”
“Hell, yeah. Lights are off, no one will ever know better, and you have a fine pair.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Grace laughed. “And clumsy as hell. Now, about the lights, how long do you think it’ll take for them to come back on?”
Trev breathed a sigh of relief and frustration. Crisis averted. Hard-on still there. “No idea. And this time the electricity’s out too. Looks like we have to phone the Council and find out what’s up.”
“Damn it. I have to dry my hair. I’m going out in less than thirty minutes.”
Her date. “Do I know the guy?”
“Not sure. Hunter set it up. Told me it was someone from his work.”
Probably no one he knew, then.
Seemed like Grace’s cousin, Hunter Miles, was good at setting her up. He was the one who’d suggested she move in with Trev. The timing was perfect. Trev had mentioned at their weekly poker game he was looking for a housemate, and a week or so later Hunter phoned to say his cousin was moving to Sydney from Adelaide and needed a place to stay. Within ten days Grace was settled in Trev’s spare room.
Not for the first time, he wondered how Max would respond to the news. They’d never had another person in the house with them before. Would tonight be the first time?
Fuck. Why hadn’t his phone beeped yet? Max never waited this late to text.
“Where are you going?” Trev asked out of politeness. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Grace dating. Yeah, selfish of him when his thoughts were all wrapped up in Max, but the thought of her with another man didn’t sit well.
“Drinks, and if that works out, dinner.” She laughed. “If I’m not home by eleven, don’t wait up.”
Trev stumbled on his answer. If she wasn’t home by eleven, she was probably spending the night with her date. The thought made him want to hit something.
But if she wasn’t home by eleven, then he and Max would have the gift of solitude. His dick twitched. There was nothing like spending quality private time with Max. Nothing like it at all. If Trev could make it permanent quality private time, he’d do so in a heartbeat.
He patted his phone, waiting for it to vibrate.
“I’ll leave a light on in case,” he teased.
“Nice gesture, Trev.” Grace snorted delicately. “Which light would that be exactly? The outside light that’s not working, or one of the fifty inside lights that aren’t working?”
“Fine, so I’ll leave a candle burning instead,” he offered gallantly.
“You have candles?” Grace’s voice was hopeful.
“Yep. I bought them after the last power failure.”
“Brilliant. I can use them to find some clothes and finally get dressed.”
“You’re not dressed?” Okay, so he’d grasped the unimportant part of her sentence, but damn, Grace without clothes? Standing next to him in the dark? The things he could do with her naked…
Hang on, she was dressed. He’d seen her in the car’s headlights and grabbed her breast, and she was definitely wearing something.
Grace muttered under her breath, then said, “Not only am I not dressed, but my hair’s wet and I haven’t got any make-up on. I’m still wearing my pjs, so I’m never gonna make it on time. Unless…we get those candles you mentioned.”
Trev’s eyes shut of their own accord. Christ, pajamas and no underwear. None at all. Never mind braless, the woman was pantiless too.
Which meant nothing covered her bottom save for that flimsy pair of pajama pants.
In that minute, the thought of burying his cock in a warm, wet pussy appealed as it hadn’t in two long years.
Add that to the endless wait for Max’s text message and the desperation to feel Max’s cock in his ass, and Trev was fucked. Well, proverbially speaking, anyway.
He shook his head. He needed to get laid. Bad. He’d thought of nothing else for days. Weeks. With Max’s absence and Grace’s appearance, he was hanging on by a fine thread. That wasn’t all. As if the physical desire to sleep with someone wasn’t bubbling through his veins like unleashed testosterone, the emotional need to settle down was messing with his head.
For the longest time he’d enjoyed no-strings-attached sex. Men, women, he’d fucked them both, with incredibly pleasing results. Most pleasing with Max. But now his needs were changing. His wants were different. Hell yeah, he still wanted sex—plenty of it—but he wanted so much more on top of that. He had since his last time with Max.
Now Grace stood before him—with no fucking underwear—and he had to act normal.
Fuck with a capital F!
He could do this. No prob. “I’m running out of time too. About ten minutes after you leave, seven peeps are going to knock on that front door, expecting drinks, snacks and a game of poker.” One of those seven people would be Max. “Oh, yeah, and light. Because playing poker without light isn’t so easy. ’Specially the black cards. Tricky little buggers in the dark, those ones are. The eights and nines? Impossible to see, which—”
Grace’s laughter shut him up. “How about we go find those candles so neither of us is late?”
“Ah. The voice of reason. They’re in the kitchen. I have a torch there too.”
“Well then, Mr. Greenfield, why not lead the way?” She touched his arm, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, and just like that, for the nine hundred and seventh time since Grace had moved in—hell, since she’d walked into the room tonight—his mind fixated on making love to her. “You get the candles, I’ll find the torch, and we can shed some light on this…shady situation.”
“You’re full of good ideas, aren’t you?” Trev’s face split into a grin. Damn, her hand felt fine there. Hot and right.
Okay! Best head for the kitchen before he did something they’d both regret—like kiss the woman and divest her of her pajamas.
“I’m always full of good ideas,” Grace told him without a shred of modesty.
Trev’s grin widened as they made their way across the minefields of the lounge and dining rooms. Grace was cool. One of the coolest women he’d ever—
“Shit!” He tripped. Over what he had no clue, but he went down fast, landing like a fool on one knee.
Grace was gracious enough not to laugh too loudly. Even so, her muted chuckles echoed in the dark, reverberating through his stomach.
Since she hadn’t released his arm when he fell, he gave serious thought to pulling her down with him. Hah, then they could debate which was funnier, her tumble or his. But if she landed on top of him now, there’d be no promises he wouldn’t take it a step further and accidentally touch her breast again. With his tongue.
“Nice,” he said instead, picking himself up and dusting himself off. “Laugh at the idiot who tripped in the dark. Very nice.”
Grace chuckled even louder. “How lucky did you get when you landed me as your housemate? Not only am I nice, I’m full of good ideas, plus I can see humor in the gloomiest of situations.”
Her peals of laughter sounded like sunshine and daylight and made Trev chuckle too. Oh, yeah. He got lucky all right, landing her as a housemate. Question was, how lucky would he get in the future?
It bothered Trev no end he could even consider getting lucky with Grace knowing how he felt about Max…but man, was he ever considering it.
He gave a little snort as he began to pick his way more cautiously to the kitchen. “Oh, yeah. I lucked out when I found you, all right. Although, a housemate with a bit of sensitivity and caring might have been good too. You know, someone who’d ask if I was okay after sustaining life-threatening injuries. But someone full of good ideas, who’s nice and funny is just as lucky.” For good measure, he reluctantly added, “I suppose.”
“Aw, shame.” Grace rubbed her hand sympathetically over Trev’s arm. “Did the little boy get a booboo? Need me to kiss it better?”
Trev came to a dead stop. He turned to face her before he thought better of it. “You offering to kiss it better?”
Well, damn. He’d meant that to come out as a joke. Instead his voice sounded raw and…excited.
Her laughter stilled.
The air between them was heavy all of a sudden, thick with the tension Trev had felt ever since Grace moved in. The teasing and the humor were gone.
Her face was close. Near enough he could smell her minty breath. Near enough that if he dipped his head a couple of inches he’d find her lips with his mouth—even in the dark.
“You offering, Gracie?” he asked again. This time he didn’t bother to hide his intent with humor.
He’d wanted her for three weeks, and now that she’d brought up the whole kissing idea, he thought he might go mad if he didn’t get to taste those cherry-red lips.
She didn’t answer, just exhaled really slowly, her breath tickling his nose and mouth.
“Because I’m accepting if you are,” he said softly.
She loosened her grip around his arm and gradually ran her hand over his shoulder and up his neck, her palm on his bare flesh heating him from the outside in. Then she took the tiniest step closer, so her braless breasts pressed against his chest, two round pillows of splendid female flesh.
With his eyes useless in the dark, the rest of his senses worked overtime. The whisper of her soft breath and his harsher exhalations echoed in his ears. Her fresh vanilla perfume tickled his nose, while the heat of her hand continued to sear his skin. Her chest moved against his, up and down, as she inhaled deeply then let the minty air out.
Her softness took his breath away. He’d gotten so used to Max’s muscular physique, to the hard sinew of man, he’d forgotten how a woman felt.
Grace’s abundant curves blew his mind. They made his heart skip a freaking beat.
He had to discover if her mouth tasted as sweet as it always looked. Trev dipped his face to hers, guided by the soft sounds of her breathing, and nearly jumped three meters when light flared around them and sound blared unexpectedly from the telly.
Just as startled as him, Grace stumbled back with a gasp.
He blinked against the glare of the light, taking in the sight of the woman before him. Long damp hair, a shade darker than usual, hung down her back. Her mouth was pouty, color stained her cheeks and her brown eyes were wide with arousal and shock.
Desire rippled through him. Desire and something else. Something less physical and more…sentimental.
“Oh, good. The lights are back on,” she said redundantly. He would have smiled again if lust and emotion hadn’t clasped his lips in a death grip.
God, she looked exquisite. Her nipples poked at the flimsy silk of her top, telling Trev she was as affected as him by their almost-kiss.
“Grace,” he murmured.
“The power’s back too.” She raised her arm slowly and lifted a strand of damp hair. “I can use my hair dryer.”
She didn’t need it. Her hair looked perfect the way it was, beginning to dry, so it fell in waves of wheaten gold down her back.
“I can put on make-up.” She looked surprised, as if the idea was both novel and astounding. “And I can get dressed.” She nodded. “Because I can see.” She looked at Trev then pointed to the light. “The power’s been restored. I can get ready now.”
“You can.” Jesus, his dick ached like the devil. “Or you can step right back here and finish what we started.” His brain was fried, his body working on testosterone alone.
“Yeah. Okay.” She stared at him, her cheeks turning pinker. “I think I better go get dressed now.” And with that she launched herself into his arms and caught his mouth in a kiss so sinful the room spun.
Trev might have made a halfhearted attempt to keep the kiss chaste if she hadn’t parted her lips and flicked her tongue over his lips, unleashing weeks of repressed desire. He opened his mouth and his tongue met hers in wild celebration.
She tasted every bit as sweet as he’d imagined.
He licked into her mouth, exploring the warm, wet cavern. He stroked her tongue with his, nipped at her lower lip, sucked on her upper one, and she met his intensity move for move.
His arms tightened around her. When last had he pushed his erection up against the gentle swell of a woman’s belly, or cupped pliable butt cheeks in his hands?
Grace rocked against his groin, rubbing her pussy against his impossibly hard cock. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her braless nipples poking at him through the silk of her pajamas and the cotton of his T-shirt.
Trev was so aroused, beads of precome trickled from his dick. He had to touch her naked flesh, feel the tight buds that tipped the generous swell of breast. Edging his hands under her shirt, he ran his palms over her hips. He couldn’t stop there. He traced her curves, relishing the way her hips flared out gently before nipping in at the waist and flaring out again at the start of her ribs.
She was so very different from Max. His complete opposite in every way. Max was solid muscle and hard lines, Grace all soft curves. Max smelled of expensive cologne, Grace like earthy vanilla. Max’s hair was short and thick, Grace’s long and silken. Max’s chest was flat and lightly covered in hair, Grace’s was smooth and blessed with a perfect set of breasts.
One so different from the other, yet Trev’s feelings for both of them seemed so similar. It shouldn’t be possible. He and Max had been lovers for two years, while he was only getting to know Grace. Experiencing this overwhelming attraction to both of them didn’t make sense.
But then when had anything ever made sense in Trev’s love life?
“God, Grace…” Her breasts now rested in his palms, each one a perfect handful. The globes were round and firm. Flawless, feminine beauty. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples, gratified by the shiver that raced through her body in response.
It took him seconds to divest her of her top, and then he leaned in and pulled one distended nipple into his mouth.
“Trev!” Grace dropped her head back and let out a long, contented sigh.
If it were possible to purr, he would have. He suckled on her nipple, scraping it with his teeth, and when she whimpered in his arms, he paid full attention to her other breast, kissing it, laving it with his tongue, loving it as he hadn’t loved a woman’s breast in months. Years.
Her fingers found his head and held his mouth to her breast. “Trev,” Grace moaned. “What are you doing to me?”
He pulled his mouth away only long enough to answer. “Kissing you, Gracie. Tasting you.”
“Because I can’t seem to stop myself.”
“Oh,” Grace whispered. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Trev looked into her eyes, needing to confirm her message.
She nodded, her gaze lazy and sensual. “Okay.”
Enough said. He settled his mouth back over her nipple, wanting more of Grace, wanting to taste her everywhere.
Like he wanted to taste Max everywhere.
What was he doing? Accidentally feeling up his housemate was one thing. Ripping off her shirt and openly adoring her body while longing for a man he hadn’t seen in weeks was quite another.
No, being with Grace wasn’t cheating on Max. You couldn’t cheat on a fuck-buddy, could you? A casual lay was a casual lay, end of story. He and Max had ensured, week in and week out, that that was all they were to each other: a Friday-night after-poker special, reserved only for those times when neither of them were seeing other people.
It wasn’t Max’s fault Trev had tripped and fallen in love with him. Wasn’t Max’s fault that their Friday-night specials had become Friday-night spectaculars in Trev’s mind. Wasn’t Max’s fault that the wait for his text message this evening, asking if they were on for tonight, seemed interminable.
It also wasn’t Max’s fault that Trev was so damned aroused he couldn’t resist his housemate one more day. Nope, that was all Grace’s doing. Luscious, beautiful, soft, feminine Grace tempted him like no woman ever had. If Trev didn’t know better, he’d think he was tripping and falling for Grace too.
Impossible. You couldn’t love more than one person at a time.
Maybe that would explain Trev’s difficulty in deciding which was better, sucking on Grace’s soft breast while she shivered beneath his ministrations, or nibbling on Max’s tight nipple, licking it until he groaned out loud.
Perhaps he’d be happiest moving from one to the other? Licking Max’s muscled flesh before switching over to scoop the heavy globes of Grace’s breasts back into his hands.
Was it any wonder he couldn’t stop himself now? Every thought about Max drove him crazy, every inch of Grace made him wild.
What he wouldn’t do to thrust his dick into this beautiful woman. What he wouldn’t do to have Max thrust his beautiful cock in his ass.
He claimed her mouth again in a kiss so sinful it had his dick slapping against his stomach. Her lips tormented his as she toyed with his tongue. God help him, he couldn’t resist flattening one hand over a rounded breast and trailing the other down her belly toward the waistband of her pajama pants.
His fingers curled in eager anticipation as he slid them under the elasticized waist and skimmed his hand over the surprisingly hairless mound of her pussy.
Trev had grown accustomed to the coarse, sexy texture of hair at the base of Max’s cock. Grace’s bareness had him growling low in his throat.
She rocked her hips, slow at first, but then faster and harder, until his hand slipped lower, and his finger rested right above her clit.
Were those carnal sounds coming from her? They had his balls tightening, preparing him for a mammoth explosion.
Trev breathed deep, seeking fresh air. Instead he inhaled enticing hints of vanilla and something else. Something even more feminine, more exciting.
The heady aroma of an aroused woman.
He rolled his finger over her clit, loving how her carnal cries changed to a soft contented mewing.
“Finally!” she gasped. “I thought you’d never touch me.”
He stared at her, stunned. “I thought I’d never touch you either.”
Grace grinned then, flashed her generous, warm, carefree grin and wrinkled her nose. “God, am I happy you did.”
He grinned right back. How could he not? Sheer happiness flowed through him, originating from her smile and piercing straight through his confusion. “Me too, Gracie. Me too.” And then he kissed her again, feeling her smile broaden against his lips.
He skimmed his hand lower, discovering the folds beneath her clit. They were damp and slick, and his finger slid easily between them, sinking into her channel.
She gasped against his mouth.
Wet heat met his touch. He sank his finger deeper, and she ground down, clenching her muscles around him. Not once did she move her mouth from his, and not once did he try to end the kiss. Holding her, penetrating her and kissing her? He’d smile for a week at this rate.
“Grace! I need to taste you.” He dropped slowly to his knees, dragging his mouth down her throat, over her breasts and stopping at her belly button to place a kiss there. But he couldn’t stop for long. Her essence beckoned him.
Placing his hands on either side of her hips, he pushed off her pants and froze at the sight he beheld. Perfect feminine beauty.
He buried his nose against her clit and licked her pussy.
Licked her pussy. Her wet, slick pussy. Her smooth, feminine pussy.
Christ, who would have believed he could ever feel this way again? Who’d ever have thought the creamy taste of her pussy juice would go straight to his head and make him crave more? Crave everything Grace had to offer. Her body, her mind. Her love.
For two years he’d craved nothing but Max. He still craved Max. But it didn’t dim his hunger for Grace one bit.
Like he’d done with his finger before, he now slid his tongue inside her channel and kissed her with all the vigor and enthusiasm he’d used to kiss her mouth.
She tasted like nectar and cream and honey. Grace was sweet with a hint of the forbidden, while Max was salty with a generous helping of man. They both blew his mind, both whet his appetite until he felt he’d never get enough.
As unbelievable as Grace tasted, Trev couldn’t help but miss Max. If only he were there too…
Fuck, he could sample them both. Switch between the two. Licking Grace before sucking Max. Then back to Grace.
How morally correct could it be to lick Grace and crave Max at the same time? Surely there had to be a rule against something like that? There should be, because the very thought of it was so wicked, he feared he might come imagining it.
She trembled in his grasp, emitting those soft mewling sounds that penetrated the fog of desire around his brain and burrowed deep in his dick.
More, he needed more Grace. He burrowed a finger between her ass cheeks and trailed it over her hidden treasure. Ah, God, he wanted to lick her there too. Wanted to feast on her butt the way he feasted on Max’s.
Not possible in this position, not without some serious neck contortionism. He had to make do with his hand.
Dipping his finger into her pussy, he helped himself to a dollop of her cream and used it to paint tiny circles around her anus.
“Oh, my God, Trev…” Grace widened her stance, giving him easier access.
He kissed her harder and brought his other hand around to stroke her clit. He had two years of pussy famine to make up for, and he intended to make up for it in a spectacular fashion. He was going for the hat trick—clit, pussy and ass.
As his thumb brushed her clit, softly at first, but then with slightly more pressure, he lovingly licked into her channel and continued to paint her hole with his finger.
Her shudders began in earnest. Grace’s thighs stiffened and she ceased breathing.
He breached her ass, sliding the tip of his finger inside, past the tight ring of muscle.
It was all Grace needed. She came with a cry. Her channel squeezed at his tongue, pulling it in as far as it would go. Her juices leaked over his lips and chin. She rocked her hips, pressing her clit harder against his thumb, and her ass clamped around his finger, making further entrance impossible.
Spasms shook her body, and Grace’s long, low moans of release reverberated through the room. Trev took advantage of the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of her pussy muscles to remove his tongue.
He lapped at her juices as her climax eased up.
Used to catching and swallowing Max’s come as it spurted into his mouth, Trev relished the job at hand. So very different from Max’s orgasms, but as satisfying. He licked her pussy a little more enthusiastically, making sure to catch every last drop. His renewed vigor must have set something off in her, for she cried out and came again, the rhythmic convulsions increasing in speed and strength before once again dwindling slowly away.
“Oh, God,” Grace gasped, and her legs shook violently.
Trev caught her as her knees gave in and she collapsed in a limp pile in his arms, her breath uneven and ragged.
At the precise moment Trev wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close as he could get her, his phone beeped.
The much-anticipated text message from Max had finally arrived, and for the first time ever, Trev had no idea how to respond.
What the fuck did that mean? A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Hell, it had sufficed for two years. But no, Trev’s response to his text had been It’s complicated.
Did that mean It’s complicated, yes or It’s complicated, no?
An answer either way would have helped Max’s mood somewhat. Instead of trying to hide his disappointment, frustration and confusion behind his cards, he could be sitting in aroused anticipation of the night to come, or hanging limp with the knowledge he’d be going home alone.
He’d waited six weeks for tonight. Looked forward to it with an eagerness he’d never have believed possible, so a straight answer would have been helpful. It wasn’t just the sex he’d anticipated, although that alone had him standing at attention every time he thought about it. Nope, Max had experienced a revelation while away. One he was eager to share with Trev.
Funny, he’d never bought into that distance-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder crap—until now. Damn it, over a month away, and the only person he’d missed had been Trev. Missed? He’d fucking pined for the guy.
The whole fuck-buddy thing they had going on between them? Not so special anymore. Max was over it. He wanted more from Trev. A whole lot more.
He dragged his attention back to the poker game, making sure to look anywhere but at Trev. He couldn’t bear to look at his face, his mouth. Couldn’t stand to see the lips he ached to kiss and not know whether he’d get a chance tonight.
The sexual tension simmering around the table only made things worse. If the terrible triplets didn’t get themselves a room soon, someone was gonna get done right there on the table. Probably Jay, with the way Hunter and Jules looked at him now.
Shit, he wanted to experience the tension and the love and the happiness that flowed between them. Not that any of them interested him on a sexual level. He envied what they’d found together.
Or maybe he wanted to get laid, pure and simple.
Nope, not that simple. Des, Megan and Alex looked as happy as the terrible trips, and Megan’s skirt had creases in it where there shouldn’t be creases. Not that he’d noticed.
Max didn’t just want to get laid. He wanted the emotions that went with the sex. The commitment. Like these six members of the poker school seemed to have found. He’d never have thought it, but he was ready to settle down again. And he’d never have guessed it, but he wanted to do that settling with Trev.
The bitch of it? Now that he finally knew what he wanted—Trev—the answer to his text had been It’s complicated. Max had no idea what complications Trev referred to, and Trev had no idea how fucking complicated Max wanted it to get.
They’d long ago shortened their messages to the one word. What had started out as a weekly text of: We on for tonight? Yes/No? had quickly morphed into Yes/No? and finally just Yes? The answers had always been simple—one word, yes or no.
So why was tonight different? What was complicated? Was there another man? A woman? Could be either with Trev. If it was either, was it serious? Was Trev at that same point as Max, ready to commit—but to someone else? Or perhaps it was a general disinterest on Trev’s part. A hard week at work, some tough clients, and Trev might not feel like sex tonight. Criminal law had a nasty habit of throwing tough clients his way.
There was no way of knowing, especially because he and Trev hadn’t said more than hello to each other since he’d arrived at Trev’s house. He’d been delayed at the shop, talking with his sister about her newest jewelry designs and their anticipated launch date, so he’d missed the general small talk and catch-up that preceded a game. Much as he’d wanted to speak to Trev, he hadn’t had a chance.
Max looked at his cards and checked the flop. He’d played on autopilot up until now, his mind more in Trev’s pants than on the game. But the nine and jack in his hand matched the two nines and the jack on the table. Waddya know? He’d flopped a full house.
Tricky, since that was one of the things he’d wanted to discuss with Trev tonight. A full house.
He bet low, giving no indication of the cards he held.
Megan, ever eager to show her new and ridiculously talented poker skills, matched his bet and raised him. Max smiled to himself. He was gonna reel her right in on this hand. Play her all the way.
He wanted to play Trev all the way too.
Jay was in, and so was Alex. Everyone else folded.
Megan bet higher on the turn, forcing the three men to match her or fold. Al folded, Jay and Max bet. Max waited for the river before betting high. Megan matched his chips, while Jay tossed in his cards.
The pot was big. The largest one of the night. Everyone watched, rapt, eager to see who’d win. Alex and Des cheered for Megan. Hunter, Jay and Jules poked fun at both remaining players, and Trev… Damn, Trev watched him with his unnerving brown eyes, his attention fixed on Max’s face.
So intent was Trev’s focus, Max felt it all the way down to his groin. Felt the pull of attraction between them, the tug of desire, like silver heat in his veins, racing through his bloodstream and yanking on his balls.
A couple of seconds under the watchful eyes of Trevor Greenfield, and Max was hard as a fucking pole—and losing his focus on the game.
He revealed his cards.
“Damn,” Megan muttered. “I thought you were bluffing.”
He was. Big-time. Pretending he didn’t give a fuck if he stayed over with Trev tonight or not. “Me? I never bluff.” He winked at Megan.
She gave a playful frown and set her hand down. Three jacks. Good, but not good enough.
“I guess this means the next round of drinks is on me,” Max said and made a big production of hauling his winnings across the table.
“Hey, I’m happy to spring for drinks,” was Megan’s quick retort. “So long as you all have tap water.”
Everyone laughed. Megan and a small pile of chips wasn’t a common sight at their poker evenings.
Since the topic had been brought up, Jay suggested they stop for a drink break anyway. The suggestion was met with a large round of cheers, and Trev disappeared into his kitchen for a fresh bucket of ice.
Max popped a beer and took a long sip, contemplating whether to follow Trev or not. Probably a bad move, since he’d feel compelled to back the guy into a corner and kiss the hell out of him. Maybe even grope him a little. The poker school had no idea he and Trev were anything other than mates, and Max and Trev were happy for the privacy.
If Max shot out of his chair now and went after Trev—like he wanted to—not a single person there would be left with any doubt as to the real reason he was going into the kitchen.
He thought about his hand. A full house. A possibility for him and Trev? Before he’d left on his trip, Trev had mentioned he’d been looking for a housemate. Max had pondered the possibility of taking up the position. It would be a brilliant idea. A way of slowly getting under Trev’s skin. The more time they had together, the more time they could be together. Rather than keeping their relationship to two or three nights a month, as had become routine, they could fuck whenever they wanted. Or have time out—if Trev wanted. Separate rooms, separate beds, separate lives. Same house. A world of opportunity.
And a chance for Max to spend more time with Trev.
Yep. Top idea. Now he needed a chance to run it by Trev. Tonight would have been perfect. But now? Seemed the night had become complicated.
He turned to talk to Des, but Des was absorbed in conversation with Alex and Megan. Hunter, Jay and Julia had moved away from the table and were huddled in a group near the drinks. Hunter massaged Jay’s neck ever so casually, as if he hadn’t thought twice about it. Jay leaned back into the other man’s touch. They both continued their conversation with Julia as if nothing had happened.
Max’s cock tightened in his pants. Jay and Hunter. Who’d ever have guessed? Hunter had been a ladies’ man through and through until he, Jules and Jay had gotten together, and then everything changed. They were an unexpected combination, but they worked. Really well.
Would he and Trev work as well if they made this thing between them permanent?
Megan laughed throatily as Alex kissed her cheek, and Des grinned like a fool at both of them. Megan’s flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes were a study in post-orgasmic bliss. Those three must have been very busy before coming to poker.
Intense longing and desire permeated the air. Max would have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on it. It made him ache deep inside. Made him long for a man who might not be his tonight. Would he ever be his permanently?
The atmosphere was as cloying as it was arousing. He had two choices. Stay here, the fifth wheel on the poker wagon, or ignore his self-warning to steer clear of Trev and head into the kitchen.
He chose the latter. At least Trev would understand his need to escape the twin set of trips.
“It’s like an orgy out there,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. “Ménage paradise in your dining room.”
Trev turned to him, his gaze troubled. Max tried to think back to the last time he’d seen Trev worried by something and came up blank. Trev was about the most laid-back guy he knew. Nothing seemed to trouble him. Yet tonight he was definitely preoccupied. The complication?
Trev gave Max a sardonic smile. “Don’t I know it. It’s making me horny as hell. I’ve had an erection half the bloody night.”
Max couldn’t help it. He dropped his gaze to confirm Trev’s words, which pretty much reflected his own responses to both the dynamics outside and the man in here.
Oh, yeah. Erection, all right. Huge one.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Damn it, he wanted Trev with a ferocity that shook him to the bones.
They hadn’t been together in six weeks. At least. Max wanted to rip off his pants and Trev’s, push the man down on all fours and fuck him until they both begged for relief. Fuck him until the hesitation in Trev’s face vanished, replaced by a post-sex lethargy.
Trev made a funny sound. “Fuck, Max,” he said gruffly. “There are six people out there who don’t need to know my business or yours. Keep staring at me like that, and those six peeps will be treated to an eyeful of my dick in your mouth. Got me?”
Max’s cock pressed hard against his zip. “Keep talking like that,” he warned Trev right back, “and that’s not the only treat those six people out there are gonna be given. Got me?”
He’d bent Trev over the bench top and taken his ass more than once in this very kitchen. There was very little stopping him from doing it again, right now. Well, very little, if you discounted public impropriety and those two words: It’s complicated.
“You threatening me?” Trev asked and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flared with both desire and humor.
Max shook his head and smiled. Amazing how much he felt like smiling when he was around Trev. “Fantasizing out loud.”
Trev stared at him with those unnerving brown eyes, his gaze unwavering. The humor had dissipated, the desire had not. “You’d consider fucking me here? With six peeps on the other side of that door?” His tone was a good notch lower than usual.
He’d consider fucking Trev in every room in his house—regardless of who stood outside the door. “You up to it?”
Yeah, right. Big talk. When he fucked Trev again, it would be in private. And it wouldn’t be a fuck. It would be more than that. So much more. A fuck implied a mutually pleasurable sexual encounter and nothing else. The next time Max touched Trev in any meaningful way, he’d make love to the man.
Again the need to back Trev into a corner and kiss the hell out of him assailed him. He was giving the idea serious thought when Trev acted all on his own. Before he knew it, Max was shoved against a cupboard, his back pinned to the smooth door, his front pressed against the hard planes of Trev’s chest. Trev pinned his arms at his sides and held them there.
Never failed to amaze him that a guy as assertive as Trev could offer Max his ass every damn time. Never failed to amaze him how damn much it turned him on. How much he loved the sensation of sinking into Trev’s hot channel, of the smooth heat that closed around him, pulling him deeper as he held on to those round, taut butt cheeks.
Hell, his cock wept thinking about it.
The man was built. Muscled, broad and solid, the way Max liked his men. And dear God, Trev’s dick. Thick and hard, it ground against his now, igniting fires all over his body.
Yeah, Trev had wanted to take Max. Had suggested it more than once. But bottoming for anyone had never appealed to him, and as much as he loved Trev, much as he loved Trev’s dick, he wasn’t ready for the other man to slip it in his ass.
He rocked his hips, massaging his cock against Trev’s, mimicking the way he’d thrust if he were actually inside him. God help him, he needed to be inside him. Needed to tell him about his revelation while overseas. Needed to let Trev know he cared. A lot. About more than sex. He’d fallen for his fuck-buddy.
He leaned in and nipped Trev’s ear, hard enough to cause pain. When he did it while inside Trev, it almost always resulted in Trev orgasming, especially if Max’s hand was wrapped around the other man’s cock at the same time.
Trev’s groan was guttural, and Max flexed his wrist, wishing he held Trev’s cock now.
“I missed this,” Max said softly into his ear. “I missed you.” Before Trev could react, he quickly added, “If those people weren’t standing on the other side of this door, my cock would be so deep in your ass you’d be coming before I pulled out the first time.”
Trev made a small, animalistic sound in his throat, leaned down and, with unerring precision, raked his teeth over Max’s nipple.
A thrill shot up his spine.
Trev straightened. “If you were in my ass now, I wouldn’t be the only one coming.”
Fucking T-shirt lay against his now highly sensitized nipple, torturing him with its cotton softness. His arms were pinned at his sides so he couldn’t use them to pull the material away from his skin. As punishment, he bit Trev’s ear again, and Trev bucked hard against him.
“Which would you like more?” Max asked, his voice a murmur. “Your dick in my mouth…” He had to pause for a second and breathe deep. Christ, he wanted Trev’s dick in his mouth. So much he could almost taste it, could almost feel the pressure as he swallowed it down the back of his throat.
Trev’s erection jerked against Max’s.
“Or my cock in your ass?” This time it was Max’s cock that jerked, the thought of pushing deep into Trev more than he could stand.
Damn it, six weeks. He didn’t want to wait another day. Another minute. He wanted to fuck Trev. Wanted to make love to him. Wanted to ease the ache in his balls and the pain in his chest. Wanted Trev to know how he felt. How he’d fallen in love…
Trev ground his dick against Max’s, and Max closed his eyes, willing himself not to come, not to shoot his load right here, in the kitchen, fully clothed.
“Or…” Max breathed deep, tried to keep his voice steady. “I could lay you on your kitchen table and lick you the way you like. Let my tongue roll around your hole, over and over, in and out, wetting you for me, relaxing you.” He ran his tongue over Trev’s earlobe, and the man shuddered violently.
Trev pulled his head away so Max could see his eyes, could recognize the hunger burning in them. Trev’s voice was a low rumble when he answered. “I want them all. I want you to suck my cock and lick my ass and fuck me until I can’t stand anymore.” His cheeks were red and heat radiated off him. “I want you to come inside me, shooting your load so hard you make me come too.”
He stopped, panting. Their faces were close, so close his hot breath mingled with Max’s. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming. All he needed to do was inch his face forward and their lips would meet. Dear God, he had to kiss Trev, had to place his mouth over his and devour him.
“But what I want most—” Trev hesitated, then bent his neck so his mouth was angled less than a centimeter from Max’s, “—is for you to want me as much as I want you.” With that he crushed his lips against Max’s.
Max was more than ready for him. He attacked Trev’s lips with vigor, possessed by an urgency to taste the man he loved.
Want Trev as much as Trev wanted him? He should only know what Max was thinking now. How the urgency to possess him, to make love to him, was driving him mad with need.
He plunged his tongue into Trev’s mouth, kissing him like he might drown without Trev’s lips. God, he needed the man. Needed him more than he’d ever thought possible.
Trev kissed him back with the same level of desperation. His ruthless grinding of his cock against Max’s kept Max perilously close to orgasm.
How could his feelings have turned around so completely? How could a casual root have turned into a desire for a lifetime together?
How could he continue kissing the man without yanking down both of their pants and burying himself in Trev’s ass? God help him, but the thought of feeling Trev’s velvety flesh closing around him, of sinking into his depths and becoming one with him, had Max hanging on the edge, needing to come. Needing to tell Trev, finally, how damn much he loved him. How damn much he wanted to make a life with him.
Trev wanted Max to want him? Oh, that was all taken care of. Max was going stir-crazy with lust. But he needed more. Needed a night alone with Trev to tell him all of this, a night with no complications.
Max pulled away from Trev’s lips, hating the cold air that rushed over his face.
It took a while before Trev’s eyes opened, and when they did, the dark lust seeping from them almost undid Max. How was it possible Trev could be this aroused—and Max knew when Trev was aroused, he’d spent two years studying the phenomenon—if things were complicated?
“Yes or no?” Max asked, his voice a whisper, his heart clenched in a vise. God help him, he needed Trev to say yes.
The merciless grinding of cock against cock ceased. For endless seconds neither man moved. Trev stared at Max’s mouth and Max stared at Trev’s eyes. Muted laughter filtered through the door.
His balls ached, burning with pent-up desire.
“Shit.” Trev released him with a curse and stepped away. He rubbed his groin as though in pain.
Max could relate.
“Shit,” Trev swore again and walked backward until his butt hit the bench top, then he swung around so fast he knocked over a silver bucket.
The resounding clatter of ice crashing into the sink did little to relieve the pressure in Max’s neck or dick. He breathed deep and rolled his shoulders, wishing he didn’t feel like a tightly wound coil.
“I want you to stay the night.”
Trev’s words were soft, but Max heard them. Exalted in them. “You do?”
“Christ, yes,” Trev snapped. “I want you to fuck me so bad I can hardly breathe from it.”
Joy flooded Max’s system, so intense it almost knocked him sideways.
Trev shook his head. “But you can’t.”
A blow to the nuts couldn’t have hit harder.
It took Max a good few seconds to find his voice. Recovery from rejection took time. Finally he raised his hands in acceptance, pretending everything was cool. Then he dropped them. Trev wasn’t looking his way and the effort of holding them up about killed him. “Whatever, mate. It’s your call.”
Trev spun around, disbelief blazing in his face. “Whatever?”
“Yes, no, it’s your choice.” Christ, how did he present such a calm façade when his insides were shriveling? “You said no. No worries.”
“No worries?” Trev fisted his hands at his chest.
A fighter pose or a protective one?
“No worries?” Trev said again, his voice loud in the small room. He swore and spoke more softly. “I’ve spent six fucking weeks waiting to see you again. Six weeks fantasizing about you and your damn dick, and all you can say is no worries?”
“What the fuck?” There went Max’s rational thought again. If Trev had spent six weeks fantasizing, then why the hell didn’t he want Max spending the night?
Trev glowered at him, his expression incredulous and conflicted.
Max stalked across the kitchen, getting in Trev’s face, pressing his chest against Trev’s fists, squashing them between their two bodies. “You think I don’t wanna spend the night?” There was nothing he wanted more—except perhaps a lifetime of spending the night with Trev. “You think I don’t wanna fuck you?” Wait. He didn’t. “Make love to you?” Ah, that he did. He shuffled back an inch and cupped his hand none too gently over the bulge in Trev’s pants.
Trev jerked beneath his touch and made that same animalistic sound deep in his throat.
“You think I haven’t spent the last month thinking about this?” Christ, he loved Trev’s dick. Touching it again, even over his jeans, was doing mad things to his breathing. Trev was every bit as hard as he was. “Damn it, I’m having wet dreams about you. Fucking wet dreams.” Sleeping alone in hotel rooms was no fun. Not when the huge double beds rattled with emptiness. “So don’t get pissy with me, mate. You said not tonight. Not me.”
Trev’s hands uncurled, and he turned them so his palms were pressed against Max’s chest. “I said it was complicated.” Trev closed his eyes.
Max forced his mind away from Trev’s touch, away from the cock in his hand. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have to tell you something.”
He dropped his arm, releasing Trev’s dick. If those weren’t the deadliest words ever invented—
“Yo, guys?” Des yelled from the dining room. “Game’s on. You coming to play?”
“Be right out,” Max yelled back, though where he found the presence of mind to answer, he had no idea. His brain seemed to have stopped functioning.
“We need to talk,” Trev said.
Max’s stomach twisted. Whatever Trev had to say, he strongly suspected he didn’t want to hear it. “About?”
Trev shook his head. “Things.”
“Real specific there, mate.”
“Alex is dealing,” Des called again. “You in or out?”
“In,” Max called back. Not because he wanted to play, but because he didn’t want to hear whatever Trev had to tell him. Every fiber of his being rebelled against it. Trev had never needed to talk before. Not about them. When it came to them, actions always spoke louder than words.
“I’m out,” Trev murmured, and judging by the level of his voice, he wasn’t addressing anyone outside of the kitchen.
Max took a breath, and then another one, filling his lungs with oxygen. Perhaps a little air would slow the malicious hammering of his heart.
Trev was out.
“Okay, then.” Max nodded and hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna play.” Fully aware that he was walking away from whatever Trev had to tell him, he stepped out of the kitchen.
Buy the complete book: