Page 24 of Party of Three

Beneath them, Buckley erupted with a desperate cry, creamy threads firing across his stomach. The sounds ripping from him were as frenzied as the ones he’d released in the kitchen the night before. Like the pleasure was so overwhelming Buckley had to fight it with gritted teeth as his body bucked and heaved or else it would blow him apart.

“Fuck,” Jeff whispered, staring down at the man beneath him in what looked like wonder. “Goddamn.”

Mateo reached around and grabbed the back of Jeff’s head, then he brought their foreheads together as he furiously stroked his own cock. “Paint him. Paint our boy.”

Ourboy? Had he really called Buckleytheirboy?

If it was a mistake, he’d regret it later. For now, there was only the train of release barreling toward his cock.

Mateo went first, and when the yell tore from him, Jeff started laughing with delight, and then suddenly Mateo was struggling to stay upright on his knees as he jerked and spasmed. Jeff followed a second later. He’d forgotten the majestic way the man came. Buckley climaxed like a writhing wild thing. When Mateo shot, he always felt like he was about to pass out. The acme of Jeff Braxton’s bliss made the man look focused and determined, teeth gritted, body rigid and stilled as he stroked himself with steady, experienced force, aiming his cock like a weapon.

Buckley had scooted down the bed, looking both dazed and delighted as he gently spread their slick loads across his bare chest, dressing his nipples with it. Eyes fluttering closed as if its feel made his skin tingle.

The next thing he knew, he’d wilted to the mattress beside Buckley. Jeff had done the same on the other side.

As their breaths deepened, he worried that reality and guilt—his old nemesis—might crowd in. But before it could, Buckley said, “If either of you fall asleep before you clean me up, I’m putting your underwear in the freezer.”

8

If he was going to jet, now was the time, Jeff thought.

Mateo had gone to run the bath. Buckley was half conscious next to him. He could scoot out before the other man came back. Even if Buckley threw himself across the door, he wouldn’t be outnumbered.

But when the man sighed and snuggled up into him before he could put the plan into action, his warmth filled Jeff like the first cool drink after a grueling trek through scorched desert. He returned the embrace before he could think twice about it.

When was the last time sex had left him this spent, this utterly content? He couldn’t remember.

He’d had his fair share of wild experiences, guest starred for plenty of couples in his day. Hell, he’d even taken a chance on a Grindr hookup who wouldn’t share a face pic only to have the door to a La Jolla hotel room opened by an A-list celebrity he’d lusted after since seeing him in his first superhero flick. Apparently the guy had been in town for Comic-Con.

For the most part, those experiences had been hotter in the retelling than in the execution, the stuff he’d brag about with some of his buddies. The couples awkwardly scooted him out the door once the deed was done, and the celebrity had smelled of too much liquid courage.

This had been something else entirely. This had been…Mateo.

And Buckley. Who somehow knew me down to my core without ever meeting me.

It felt like loving the same man had made them instantly intimate with each other. In ways that went beyond the physical.

Our boy.

Mateo’s words thrummed in his head. They’d pushed him over the edge, causing him to erupt. The idea that he and Mateo could have someone to share, someone wild and fierce and eager to surrender to them both.

He tried to remember the last time he’d lost control like this. With Mateo, of course. In San Diego. For over a year and half now, he’d assumed that trip had ruined everything. But if it had set the stage for this, maybe that wasn’t true. But what wasthis?What had they started?

And was it true he’d lost control? He’d spent the night chipping away at Buckley’s agenda and eventually he’d revealed it.

“Alright, gents,” Mateo said from the bathroom door. “Let’s get clean.”

Jeff rolled to one side. Mateo had lost the shirt. The sight of him naked and leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his smooth brown chest made Jeff’s head spin. He smiled, extended one hand, and helped Jeff to his feet. As soon as they were face-to-face, their mouths met. This time they kissed without a mad race to orgasm driving them.

The next thing he knew, the two of them were guiding Buckley into the dimly lit bathroom where sweeps of honey-colored marble flickered in the light of the candles Mateo had relocated from the villa’s sitting room. The massive jacuzzi tub was almost full. Buckley stumbled for a few steps, clearly still spent in more ways than one, before Mateo guided all of them into warm water, positioning Buckley in the middle.

As their soapy hands kneaded and caressed the man between them, Buckley’s soft cooing sounds turned to long, throaty groans. His pleasure was infectious, and Jeff felt a stirring in hisballs. No small feat for a guy in his forties who’d just come so hard he thought his eyes might pop out.

“Damn,papi,” Mateo cooed, and that’s when Jeff saw that Buckley was going hard again in the bathwater.

“I like being your boy,” Buckley whispered.

They were quiet words, casual words. Gentle, even. But they seemed full of promise and potential, and in the watery silence that followed, they hung in the steam over the tub as both men continued working their soapy hands across Buckley’s neck and shoulders, then up into his armpits.

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