by Lane Hart
“Boat!” I shout over to Gabriel as I hurry to him. “Wake up. Get your clothes on.”
“All right, all right, all right,” he mutters as he sits up blurry eyed and I toss him his boardshorts. A second later he’s slipping them on under the towel. “Is it Sax?” he asks.
“Looks like his barge,” I reply as my face heats up and I swipe a hand over my brow to mop up the sweat. “Think he’ll wonder if something is up with us?”
“No clue,” Gabe responds.
“Dalton knows.”
“What?” he asks as he gets to his feet and combs his fingers through his tussled hair.
“Dalton saw us a few weeks ago in your shop,” I explain.
“He did? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Gabe asks.
“He told me he wouldn’t say anything.”
“Well it doesn’t matter if he does or not,” he mutters.
“What are you talking about?” I ask as the sound of Sax’s boat gets closer.
“I told Torin and Chase that I’m bi,” he explains. “The bylaws allow it, so it shouldn’t be a big deal as far as the club goes.”
“You fucking told them!” I exclaim in disbelief.
“They don’t know about you,” he responds. “I didn’t mention anything about us.”
“Wow,” I say as panic claws up my throat because not just one of the Kings know, but possibly three. Four, if Sax isn’t blind.
“Morning, fellas!” our fellow brother shouts as he pulls up to the shore. I hear his anchor hit the water with a splash. “So sorry we forgot about you yesterday. Kinzie had an allergic reaction to the sunscreen, so we had to get her back.”
“And you forgot how to count?” I ask him.
“We were in a hurry,” Sax replies with a shrug of his shoulders underneath his leather cut. “Anyway, Quincey reminded me this morning that she didn’t remember seeing you two on the boat, so here I am.”
“Uh-huh,” I mutter as I pick up the closest cooler and start toward the boat.
“There are snakes on this island. Rattlers! We heard them last night!” Gabriel shouts indignantly. “Did you know about that?”
“Snakes? You don’t say,” Sax responds while biting back a grin.
Aw, fuck. He knows too.
“Did Quincey say some shit to you?” I ask him.
“About snakes? Nope. Not a word,” Sax answers.
“Stop being a prick,” I tell him.
Leaning against one of the canopy poles, he says, “If you must know, the governor told me about what was going down during visitation months ago. I knew when I came to see you that day.”
Gabriel freezes mid-fold of a beach towel, one we probably defiled last night. I hope it was Sax’s.
“Knew what?” I ask, playing dumb.
“About the conjugal visits, Ian!” he yells back. “And I won’t pretend like I have a fucking clue about what happened during them. All I know is that you had a lot of them with Gabriel. And no, I haven’t told anyone. Quincey apparently is aware of some things going down between you two, but not because I let anything slip.”
“Shit!” Gabriel grumbles. “Maybe we should just take it to the table, get it out in the open.”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. My ears are burning so badly with embarrassment I’m surprised they don’t melt off my head. “We’re not doing that. This ends right here and now, and we’re all going to pretend like it didn’t happen.”
“You know what, Ian?” Gabe asks as he throws the towel down to stomp over to me. “You’re a big, fat pussy, and you’re a horrible liar.”
“Whoa!” Sax whispers before he grabs the other cooler and ducks his head on his way back to his boat.
“I’m not lying.”
“Sure you are. Because we both know that last night isn’t going to be the last time you fuck me. If you hated yourself for it so much, you wouldn’t let it keep happening,” he points out. “I’m not forcing you to do anything! So just shut the fuck up.” He grabs both sides of my face so hard I can’t even flinch when he leans his forehead against mine. “Shut your mouth and stop with the self-loathing thoughts in your head.” Then, Gabriel kisses me, right smack dab on my lips with Sax just a few feet away, tongue and everything.
And fuuuck, I hate that my dick reacts not just to his mouth on mine but the way he’s standing up to me, putting me in my place. I’m such an aggressive control freak that I never stopped to think that maybe I would like to be bossed around a little too. It could be nice to surrender that control and power once in a while, letting someone else, Gabriel maybe, make my decisions for me. The boy scout has got a pair of brass balls to not care what Sax thinks about his words or actions. If he told me to get on my knees and worship his dick with my mouth right now, I probably would.
“You two want me to come back for you tomorrow?” Sax calls out, not sounding disgusted but just amused.
“No, we’re coming!” Gabriel says with a smirk when he pulls away and keeps his eyes on me. He glances down at the tenting in my shorts and gives my erection a teasing pat. “That’s what I thought.”
I’m so fucking screwed.
The first night back in my bed I don’t sleep a wink. All I do is toss and turn, fighting with the sheets in the darkness, unable to stop thinking about my time on the island with Gabriel. It felt good to finally be free to look at him and touch him and be with him. But deep down I know that there’s a part of me that can’t spend the rest of my life with another man. That doesn’t have anything to do with what anyone else thinks either. I’m certain of that. The problem is that Gabriel deserves nothing but complete loyalty, which is not something I can give him. Giving up women would be difficult for me. Giving up one particular curly-haired woman seems impossible, no matter how much I care about Gabriel.
That is my honest truth with myself, and it fucking sucks.
I also know that I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’ve had enough loneliness over the last few years, which is why I don’t want to just fuck my way through every single female in North and South Carolina. I’d like to give Quincey the life she wants, be a husband and a father even if both of those things scare the shit out of me.
Turning my back on Gabriel, hurting him by choosing her doesn’t scare me, it fucking kills me.
Unable to lay in bed a second longer, I eventually put on a pair of shorts and decide to go for a run. My legs pump for miles and miles until it hurts to stand up on them. Then and only then do I crawl back to the Savage Asylum and finally pass out right before sunrise.
When I wake up again, it’s almost noon, which is the longest I’ve slept since Quincey left.
I shower and head up to the bar, planning to drink myself into a coma until I figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with my life.
As soon as I leave my apartment, I notice that Gabe’s door is wide open. His room is dark and…empty, not a single sheet on the bed.
What the fuck?
Upstairs, the prospect is sweeping the bar and no one else is around, so I bark at him, “Where the hell is Gabriel?”
“Ah, I think he’s at the shop.”
“Where is he living? His shit is gone from his apartment,” I grit out. How the fuck did I sleep through him moving out?
“Oh, yeah,” the kid says. “He moved into the loft above the shop this morning.”
“Fuck,” I say on a sigh of relief before I climb up on one of the barstools. At least he didn’t go far. And I’m glad he got his own place back after he lost everything in the bombing. “Pour me a shot,” I order Cedric.
“You want a shot? Right now?” he asks while still holding the broom, like he thinks it’s too early to be drinking liquor.
“No. Next week. I’m just putting in a pre-order today,” I grumble before yelling, “Fucking yes, right now!”
“Okay. Sorry,” he says as he props the broom handle against the wall to scurry behind the bar. “What kind of shot?”
“I don’t care,”
I huff. “Whiskey or vodka, whatever’s closest.”
The kid blinks at me for several seconds like he’s waiting on me to make a decision so that he doesn’t have to. Screw that. My brains are so scrambled I can’t even make that simple choice.
“Today, son!” I yell to get him pouring.
Finally, he pulls out a shot glass and sets it in front of me, followed by another, and then he pours the amber liquid in the first one and clear liquid in the second.
“Great,” I say on a sigh as I eye the two glasses. “Now I have to decide which fucking one I want.”
“Why do you have to choose just one?” he asks. “You had five dry years and are drinking at lunchtime, so I’m guessing you could use them both.”
“Both?” I repeat.
“Do you not want to mix the Jack Daniels and Smirnoff? Would you rather have two whiskey or two vodkas instead of one of each? Or I could fix you four, so you have two of each…” the prospect rambles.
I hold up my palm to shut him up as I stare at the two glasses. “Just be quiet so I can think a second.”
“Yes, sir.”
Whiskey and vodka don’t taste anything alike. Even a little bit of whiskey is heavy with a strong kick while vodka is practically flavorless, which makes it easier to drink an entire bottle. Still, they’re both alcohol, and both will get me drunk off my ass. I’ve never tried to mix the two together before, but the kid’s right — why the hell not?
“I want both shots,” I say aloud to Cedric. “Who’s gonna fucking stop me? The liquor police? The ATF?”
“Nobody’s gonna stop you, sir, especially not me,” he replies.
“You’re damn right they’re not! Just because no one drinks both at the same time doesn’t make it wrong.”
“No, it doesn’t,” the prospect agrees.
“Maybe it’s selfish, but I want both.”
First, I pick up the vodka and pour it down my throat, and then I chase it with the whiskey.
“There’s plenty left if you want a few more shots of both,” Cedric tells me.
Slapping my palm on the bar counter, I say, “You’re right. I could choose both every goddamn day if I wanted to.” I’m no longer talking about the shots, not that he knows that.
I climb down from the stool and point a finger at the prospect on the way out the door. “Get this man some fucking patches!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gabriel
“You moved out,” Ian states as soon as he walks through the door at Savage Ink. Without warning him, I brought all of my things over this morning because the apartment above the shop is finally finished. It’s twice as big as my old one with a vaulted ceiling and a ton of windows. I fucking love it. It’s also nice having what feels like a fresh start.
“Yeah, the contractors finished painting upstairs yesterday, and all of my appliances were delivered early this morning,” I reply while continuing to stock the ink at each station.
“Good. That’s good,” he says with a nod of his head while leaning a hip against the counter not very far from where he first fucked me.
“Is that it?” I ask gruffly. I’m done begging or waiting for scraps from him.
“No,” he says, followed by a long pause. “So, I’ve been thinking…”
“Yeah? About what?” I ask while holding my breath.
“About…us.” Hell must be freezing over. “I think we should have another threesome with Quincey.”
Annnnd we’re back to where we started.
“She knows about us; and if she agrees, then it won’t matter if we want to fool around together. Me and you I mean.”
Holy shit. I didn’t expect him to want to touch me in front of her.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I ask even though in my mind I’m already taking my pants off.
“When the choice is whiskey or vodka, I want them both. That’s the best idea I could fucking come up with,” he says. I have no clue what he’s talking about. “Look, I know it’s not what you want, and maybe it’s not what she wants, but it’s what I fucking want. If I’m bisexual, then I should get to have both you and her at the same time! And I don’t just mean in bed either.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I mean like the three of us figuring out a way to make this work as a relationship or whatever.”
“Really?” I ask with a grin I can’t help because he’s blown my fucking mind throwing words like ‘relationship’ around. It feels like Christmas is coming early this year.
“Now don’t start waving any rainbow flags,” Ian warns me. “Nobody would have to know what the three of us do together in bed. And I’m not talking about us using Quincey to hide behind. I would never do that to her. But having her with us, we could avoid those questions. It’s a win-win, right?”
“I dunno, man,” I say with a heavy disappointed sigh after he went back to making me think this idea of his is just a way to keep hiding. “It still sounds like a cop out.”
“It’s not! I wouldn’t hide anything from her, but it’s nobody else’s fucking business!” he yells. “This is the best idea I can come up with, all right? So, you can take it or leave it.”
It’s not really fair for me to ask him for more since I still haven’t even come out to my own brother.
“Okay,” I agree. “If you can convince Quincey to give this a try, then I’m in.”
“You know you should probably talk to Abe too, right?” Ian says.
“Why?”
“Because he’s your brother! And he’s big as fuck. I don’t want him to kill me if he finds out from someone else instead of hearing it straight from you.”
“Straight from me,” I repeat with a chuckle. “Nice choice of words.”
Stomping up to me, Ian grabs my chin between his finger and thumb, not to hurt me but to tilt my face up. Then, he just kisses me without any hesitation and with tongue like it’s as easy as breathing. I didn’t ever expect him to enjoy putting his mouth on mine, much less here in the shop where someone could walk in and see us.
When I’m seconds away from drowning in him, he finally pulls away, leaving us both gasping for air. “I’ll talk to Quincey. You talk to Abe,” he tells me without releasing his grip on my chin. “And then you may have to talk to Quincey at my funeral after your brother rips my head off, but it’s time you tell that man the truth.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I agree, probably from a lack of oxygen; because as soon as Ian removes his hand from me and walks out, I start having second thoughts.
Quincey
“Hey, Ian,” I say in greeting when I open Peyton’s door. She’s at work and Dalton is out doing whatever it is he does during the day. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s looking for an apartment for me to try and get me out of here sooner.
“You left us stranded on an island,” he says through narrowed blue eyes. “What if we had died out there?”
Rolling my eyes, I tell him, “It wasn’t like we left you during a hurricane. It was a beautiful day and night on your very own private island. How bad could it have been?”
When Ian’s eyes lower from mine, it makes me think that it may have been pretty good and that’s his problem with it.
“Tell me the truth, Ian. Did you have fun?” I ask him.
“Do you want me to be with Gabriel because you and I are done?” he asks. “Is that why you orchestrated that whole thing? If so, just tell me the truth rather than keep pushing me toward him and hoping I get the message. I’m stubborn, but I’m not all that bright. I don’t give up easily, not until you tell me that the fight’s over or I’ve been knocked out.”
“No, Ian. I’m not trying to push you away and to Gabriel because I don’t care about you,” I answer truthfully. “I just don’t want you to be with me unless it’s a decision that isn’t based on what’s easier. And if you’re being honest with yourself, you would know that I could never compete with Gabriel. That man loves you to the ends of the earth and back again.
”
“That’s how I think I could feel about you too,” he says, which is so damn sweet I almost cave. Almost.
“Only because you’re scared, Ian. I don’t want to be a runner-up that you settle for and then one day regret,” I explain to him. “And can you honestly tell me that you can give up Gabriel that easily and never look back?”
“I’m not going to give him up,” he says with a determined clench of his scruffy, blond jaw. His words make me happy for them but also a little sad that my plan actually worked.
“Then I think you have your answer,” I tell him with a small smile.
“That’s not my answer. You need to let me finish talking here, baby girl.”
“That is your answer, so stop trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself out of it.”
“I want whiskey and vodka. I want to be with you and him, okay?” he says. “Why can’t we keep doing that? Gabe agreed to it, so all we need is for you to give us a chance.”
With a puff of laughter, I tell him, “That’s not an option, Ian! I want a husband and a family someday soon. While being with you and Gabriel was fun and sexy, it’s not something the three of us can keep doing. He loves you and needs more than sex from you too. I thought you wanted more, that you were tired of being alone or just messing around.”
“I am!”
“Then grow a pair and make a decision!” I tell him.
“It’s not that easy to pick between you or him.”
“Sure, it is. All you have to do is follow your heart instead of trying to fight it,” I reply.
“I’m not fighting it anymore. That’s why my decision is for you and me and him to be together in and out of the bedroom.”
“No, Ian.”
“What? You have a problem with Gabriel or something?” he asks. “Because you sure seemed to be having fun with him the other day when I wasn’t there!”
“That was…I was just trying to encourage Gabriel to be more involved in the three-way that I thought was going to happen again to try and get a reaction out of you. Turns out it worked sooner rather than later.”