My brother doesn’t miss my innuendo, and his eyes narrow on me in shock. My struggle to perform isn’t something he and I have discussed. Ever. But he’d have to be blind not to have noticed I never go out. Never pick up anyone to hook up with.

When we’re not working, we share a house not far from Ira’s college. So Gable knows I never bring anyone home to stay over, either. Not that he does. He’s nearly as much of a monk as I am, but I know he’s had a few friends-with-benefit situations in the years since he and Kendall broke up.

“Oh, we definitely are!” Hazel chirps. She threads her arm through mine and tugs me to catch up to Gable and Ira. The keycard my brother waves in front of the door makes a barely audible click, the light turning from red to green as he pushes open the heavy, painted wood.

The nervous delight pouring from Ira and Hazel turns to wonder as all four of us pour into the room. The two of them race around exploring the furniture designed with an obviously kinky intent that turns it from an ordinary space into a sensual playground. Gable and I prowl the the place with our attention on security and noting points of entry or exit. Still, even with my focus on making sure it’s a safe place to play, there’s no way to stop myself from considering all the surfaces ripe to take either Ira or Hazel on.

“What’s your safe word, Beauty?” I memorized her limits list. Ira’s, too.

“Can we just use the club’s safe words? The color system?” Ira asks.

“That works for me,” she adds. “I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve always thought sex was, I dunno, kinda silly.”

More and more, I hate this Jonathan asshole. How could he have such a darling woman in his life and squander the gift? If Hazel were mine, she’d never feel as if sex were silly or as if another woman could take her place.

I may be not be the man I was, but I’m man enough to know if life brings a woman like Hazel around, you cherish her. How did she put it? Treasure discovered in a lost crypt being worshipped? Yeah, that sounds about right.

Ten

Gable

“Hazel, Ira, clothes off. You have your safe words. Beginning now, you two are our toys, and we want to play,” I command.

“But Gable—” Ira stutters. He’s so used to me explaining the whys and hows of our protection detail, it doesn’t occur to him that tonight, from this point on, he exists for my pleasure. Discussion isn’t part of that, unless I decide it will be.

“Shh, toys don’t argue,” Hazel whispers. She throws a wink my way even as her hands slip under the narrow straps holding up her gown. The subtle sparkle of navy silk shimmers in the warm glow of the room’s lighting as it waterfalls down her curves to puddle on the floor.

Every male eye in the room is locked in on the vision she makes, riveted in place by her beauty. She stands in the semi circle of our bodies around her, proud in her tall black heels, black stockings connected to a lacy garter that presses straight lines up her exposed thighs to frame the scrap of satiny black panties covering her pussy.

My brother stifles a groan from his position behind her, and I know the view from the back must be as stunning. A strapless corset-like bra lifts her breasts high enough to almost create a shelf of them. My tongue pushes against the back of my teeth in an imitation of the way instinct urges me to suckle at the nipples I know the garment hides.

“There’s a good girl,” Ridge rasps. “Now, the bra and panties. Leave the stockings.”

The cheeky grin she throws over her shoulder at him should be a warning. When she pushes that barely there scrap of panties down over the curve of her ass, she bends low to pick them up from the floor, rubbing her tight cheeks against the front of his pants in a way I know would feel amazing if it were me.

“Yes, sir, Daddy, sir.” Her smutty little comment blows his pupils wide with lust. Envy pokes at me, wanting her attention on me, but I battle it back. The night is young. I’ll get my turn.

“What are you waiting for?” My sharp demand shakes Ira from the stupor of watching Hazel and Ridge. His fingers fumble to yank at the buttons of his shirt until I step forward to help him.

“She’s fucking beautiful,” Ira murmurs.

“That she is. And tonight, she’s all ours. I promise you this: I’m going to play with you. And her. And then I’m going to watch you play with her. And my brother play with you. By the time the sun comes up, you’re going to be so fucked out you won’t remember the stress you’ve been under.”

As soon as he’s completely naked, he sags into my arms to watch the way Hazel’s body writhes against my brother’s. There’s a sensual rhythm to her movements that hints at a tune only she can hear.

“Go lie on the bed on your back,” I tell Ira.

This time, Ira obeys without argument. His willingness to trust his pleasure to me brings a lump to my throat. Everything about tonight has been a surprise for him and Ridge, but I’ve been dreaming of being with Ira for months. Longing for it and brainstorming ways to make it work in a way that includes my brother.

No, not sexually between Ridge and me. Not that such a thing is uncommon. In my rabbit hole research about closed polyamorous relationships, I discovered it’s not uncommon for brothers to share partners. It’s less common but not unheard of for them to be involved with one another. I’m not judging anyone who goes for that, but it’s not for me.

I love Ridge, would die for him, but I’m not in love with him. And I know he’s not in love with me. But while I don’t have any intention of ever fucking my brother, I can’t deny how sexy it is watching him fondle Hazel. Or how much I want to watch his big body rise behind Ira to rail him into oblivion.

“Go lie beside Ira. On your back, too. Ira, play with our girl while I have a quick chat with Gable.” There’s a thread of steel in Ridge’s demand that has Hazel hurrying to comply and a shiver visibly running through Ira’s muscular body. He’s more slender than both my brother and me, but the home gym at the condo has given him a cut definition that wasn’t there when we first brought him to Seattle.

“I thought I would just watch,” Ridge grumbles so softly I know the duo on the bed can’t him.

“Did I say you couldn’t?” I shrug. I’m not here to force anyone into anything. The thing about Ridge is, he’s a stubborn fuck.