Page 25 of Party of Three

Did he mean Mateo’s boy? Or did he mean he belonged to both of them?

Eventually, these vague and slippery possessive pronouns would have to grow more defined. But for now there was only the gentle sounds and sights of a man being gently undone by the work of four powerful hands.

Buckley leaned back. Jeff worked his hands up the center of his chest. Mateo focused on Buckley’s outstretched arm, a wicked smile on his face at the sight of the tenderness between the two men in front of him.

“Normally a bottom has to get railed to get this kind of treatment,” Buckley said.

“Yeah, well, it sounded like it wasn’t the right moment.” Jeff kissed the side of Buckley’s neck.

“Stay the night,” Buckley said quietly, clearly struggling to focus through the pleasure both men were giving him. “He should stay the night, right, babe?”

Mateo nodded with an eager smile.

“Not sure that’s a good idea,” Jeff said before he could stop himself.

Mateo’s smile faded. Slowly, Buckley turned over in the water until he was eye-to-eye with Jeff.

“Do you ever let go long enough to let anyone take care of you, Master Sergeant?”

The words lanced through him.

They should have hurt, but the man who’d spoken them hadn’t said them in anger. He’d said them in need.

And that’s what he felt coming from both of the men sharing the tub with him—need. Lust had been fed by their wild three-way, distance bridged by his arrival earlier that night. Basic cravings had been satisfied. If they still wanted him to stay, they were being driven by something else. They didn’t want a guest star or a sex toy. They wantedhim, and it had been a very long time since a sexual experience of any kind had left him feeling that way. People wanted Jeff Braxton’s Marine Corps experience, they wanted him to command, to train, and occasionally, they wanted him to fuck them into the wall while calling them dirty names. But they never wanted him to be messy and hungry and needy in expensive hotel sheets for hours on end.

“You’re pretty frank now that we’ve gotten sweaty together.”

“As if. You didn’t nickname me firecracker after two minutes because I mince words.”

Jeff’s eyes met Mateo’s. “Is this how he charmed you off your feet?”

Mateo shrugged. “A little. But I didn’t need the hard sell like you did. He had me from day one. Besides, you’ve got a helluva of a mouth on you too, Master Sergeant.”

Buckley sat up. Then, smiling, he sank back against his beautiful boyfriend. For a second, Jeff thought he was being punished with a bit of distance. Then he realized it was the opposite. Buckley was setting the table with a two-course breakfast that would be waiting for him in the morning if he decided to spend the night.

He felt a lecture brewing.

They should keep this fun, that’s all. And maybe fun meant once or twice a month and no more. Then they wouldn’t lose their heads. But the lecture didn’t come. Instead, he found himself drinking in the sight of their beautiful young bodies tangled together in warm water turned sudsy. Light flickering off their wet smooth skin. What a pair they made. Mateo, tall, bronze, and solid, his gaze steady and piercing as Jeff’s, his long, muscled arms wrapped around Buckley’s thick, compact, creamy white body that always seemed coiled and ready to spring into pleasure giving. A promise buttressed by the constantly mischievous glint in his big blue searching eyes.

“Watcha thinking, Master Sergeant?” Mateo finally asked.

I’m thinking you’re two sirens and I’m a helpless sailor you’re about to drag off to a pleasure island.But what he said was, “I’m thinking we should ditch rank if we’re gonna keep doing this.”

“The master sergeant thing’s hot, though,” Buckley said softly. “I mean, I don’t even know what they do, but still…hot. Besides, Mateo’s not a Marine anymore.”

Jeff reached under the water and squeezed one of Buckley’s feet, bringing it close to the surface while kneading it in a way that made the man’s eyes hood and his lips pout with suddenly deep breaths. “Got yourself a chaser here, Cano.”

“What’s that?” Buckley asked.

Mateo shook his head. “Old-school term for a gay guy with a Marine fetish.”

“Excuse me,” Buckley said. “I will not be lumped in with some creeper who cruises Oceanside trying to blow enlisted guys in his car.”

“Hey,” Jeff said, “don’t judge. A lot of those so-called creepers were sexy as hell. I should know. I hooked up with plenty of ’em.”

“See, Master Sergeant?” Mateo asked. “This isn’t the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”

“So is this a DP I’m being invited to in the morning?”

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