by T. M. Smith
Deep down, there was a very small part of him that had felt betrayed when he’d learned about what happened in Washington between Rory and Rand. But the hope of what was to come outweighed the betrayal; a promise of love and the very real connection they shared shone like a beacon that could not be ignored. “Okay, I think first and foremost, we have to tell each other everything all the time. As hard as relationships are with just two people, it’s going to be that much and more for us. Even if you think I’ll be upset, or I think you’ll be upset—either way, complete honesty and transparency is a must. Don’t you agree?” Shannon exhaled when they both nodded.
Rory reached for him, pulling Shannon close and kissing him with the same passion and intensity he’d kissed Rand with. Lack of oxygen and loud, fast beeps forced them apart. This time when the door opened, the cute little twink that wheeled Rory back to the room the previous day sauntered in.
“A little birdie told me that you three boys are up to no good in here,” he teased, his saucy southern accent only adding to his charm. The nurse—Brody, according to his name tag—smiled flirtatiously, unwinding the stethoscope around his neck to listen to Rory’s heartbeat. “On a scale of one to ten, what level would you say your pain is at, sweetie?” he asked Rory, holding Rory’s wrist between two fingers to count his pulse that was probably through the roof right then.
“Uh, four, maybe five?” Rory sounded uncertain.
Brody nodded, placing Rory’s arm in his lap and sliding on a pair of latex gloves so he could check his shoulder. “Well, just because the doctor removed the pump doesn’t mean you have to go without medication, sweetie. He wrote you an order for tramadol with ibuprofen to take the edge off or, if you need something stronger, the doctor did authorize Toradol, which is an injection and would be more immediate relief.” The nurse worked quickly while talking, removing Rory’s bandages and checking the swollen, bruised area of his shoulder.
Wincing, Rory’s face showed the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure the pills would have been fine until you started poking and prodding.” He hissed.
Grinning, Brody applied a fresh dressing to Rory’s shoulder, disposing of the bandages and gloves in a waste receptacle labeled Bio-hazard before pulling a capped syringe from the pocket of his scrubs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.” The twink popped the cap of the syringe and injected the clear medicine into Rory’s IV. Shannon watched as seconds ticked by and by the time the syringe was empty, Rory’s face had softened.
“Thank you.” He smiled at Brody and reached for Rory’s hand.
“So,” Brody dropped the syringe into a sharps container mounted to the wall by the sink, “I hate to be the party pooper, but you are still healing, Agent Landers. If I have to hose the three of you down, I’m going to be sending somebody home. We clear, boys?”
Rand stood and took a seat in the chair beside the bed, hands in the air. “Absolutely.”
“Crystal,” Rory slurred, the drugs already infiltrating his system.
Dimming the lights on his way out, Brody left them alone once again. Shannon took a seat on the side of the bed, smiling down at Rory, holding on to his hand as Rory started to nod off. “Let him rest for a while. Come here, sit.” Rand patted his legs. Brushing a lock of hair off his forehead, he kissed Rory before standing and stepping over to Rand, sitting on his lap. “I need to apologize to you for what happened in that hotel room. I won’t be sorry that it brought us together in the end, but I am sorry if I, well, we, hurt you.” He grazed Shannon’s bottom lip with his thumb, the mere touch setting his mouth on fire.
“I know, but thank you for saying it.” He bent and kissed Rand.
“Now, tell me more about Shannon Dupree, about college, and dancing.” Rand lifted his legs, folding them over the arm of the chair so that he was sitting sideways in his lap. They talked about UT Austin and how the campus had changed from when Rand attended. Shannon did his best to explain to Rand what drew him to dancing, why he chose to pursue what some would consider just a hobby or activity as a career. The man listened intently, his eyes alight with adoration as he smiled, nodding his head and actively participating in the conversation. It struck Shannon while they sat talking—Rand and Rory might have completely different personalities, but they were both attentive and fiercely loyal. He could already feel a swell of pride knowing that the detective belonged to him, just as the agent lying in the bed beside them sleeping did.
Chapter Thirty
Rory
“Don’t you dare.” He growled at Rand when the man squatted down, intent on lifting Rory into his arms and carrying him up the stairs. “I’m a grown-ass man that can make it up a few steps without assistance.” Halfway up the long, narrow flight of stairs leading to the loft, he was regretting his decision, begrudgingly allowing Rand to carry him the rest of the way.
“Thanks,” Rory grumbled when Rand gently seated him on the couch.
“Stop being so grumpy,” Shannon teased, grabbing a pillow and fluffing it before placing it behind Rory’s back. “You hungry?”
Shaking his head, Rory patted the couch. “Here, sit. You too, Rand.”
Many more conversations were had while he was still in the hospital, but there was so much more to be said. Shannon was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, a nervous habit, and Rory ached with the need to pull his lover close and kiss him. Rand reached for his hand, fingers grasping his. It was very surreal, the knowledge that the men sitting on either side of him were his, both of them. Did that make him greedy? Fuck it all, he couldn’t care less if it did. “Tell us what you’re thinking Rory. What’s going on in that thick skull of yours?” Rand prodded.
“Now that we’re here, everything is undoubtedly real, and I want to be certain we’re all thinking the same thing. Relationships are hard and require a lot of work with just two people, and now we are three and I think there needs to be…” The only thing that came to mind was rules. But he didn’t know if that was the right thing to say. They weren’t children, but there were expectations he had concerning the three of them. This was the time to talk about his wants and needs as well as Shannon’s and Rand’s.
Lifting his hand, Rand cupped his cheek, watching him with an amused expression. “We’re all flying blind here, Rory, so just say whatever you’re thinking. I’m pretty sure you were about to say there needs to be rules, am I right?” He nodded. “See, that wasn’t so hard,” Rand whispered, leaning in for a kiss.
Grabbing a fistful of Rand’s shirt when he went to pull away, Rory pulled him back, intent on more. Nothing more than handholding and quick pecks had been shared at the hospital. Right now what he wanted—no, needed—was to be shown that he was desired with actions, not words. Hand moving to the back of his neck, Rand tightened his hold on him, fingers grasping long, black strands of hair. When he swept his tongue along Rory’s bottom lip he opened up, sighing and letting Rand take the lead.
Unlike the kiss they shared that night back in Washington, this kiss was soft, slow, and only slightly aggressive. Careful not to touch his injured shoulder, Rand snaked an arm around Rory, pulling him close and deepening the kiss. All he could do was hold on for the ride, enjoying the taste of his detective, loving the press of the man’s larger body against him lighting a fire deep down in his soul. Shannon was already there, two hearts entwined making room for another. Lord, but he ached with the urgency to take both men to bed, to consummate their union. But right now wasn’t the time, and this exchange wasn’t about sex. No, it was about cultivating a different familiarity, a bond that needed to be formed between three souls instead of two.
Releasing his mouth, Rand rested his forehead against Rory’s. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.” Rand spoke softly, breathless from their exchange and he smiled, quite liking this subdued side of the detective.
“Both of you are beautiful and utterly sexy.” Shannon kissed his cheek. Blinking, Rory focused on the faces in front of him, everything a little blurry through his lust-hazed eyes. Rand
slowly came into focus; dark brown eyes rimmed in gold watched him for a few seconds before turning his attention to Shannon. Licking his lips, Shannon met Rand halfway and, oh holy shit, Rory was completely entranced by their display of affection. There was a small tinge of jealousy firing in his brain but he’d expected that, had been ready for it. Instead of entertaining the negative emotions, he watched the way the two men moved closer to each other while being careful not to jostle him. It was very endearing, seeing them completely lost in each other, but still having the frame of mind to care for him as well.
Rand broke away first, sitting back and closing his eyes, breathing labored. “We better have that talk now.” Shannon nodded mutely, eyes glassy and unfocused. “At least we know that chemistry isn’t an issue.” Rand chuckled, scooting back onto the couch and propping his feet on the coffee table.
“Manners, Detective,” Rory teased.
“Bite me, Agent.” Rand took the bait.
“I can see I have my work cut out for me with you two. It’s never going to be a dull moment, is it?” Shannon grinned, shaking his head.
Sucking in a deep breath, Rory decided brutal honesty was the only route—the last step to solidifying their commitment. “We’re on the cusp of the point of no return. For my own sanity and self-preservation, I need to be certain we’re all on the same page, that the three of us are in this for the long haul.” Rand’s eyes darted between Rory and Shannon. There was no apprehension or uncertainty in his gorgeous amber eyes—the man had already made his mind up; his heart was already all the way in. Rory could see every emotion the big man was feeling, and it made his heart swell.
Shannon held a hand out to each of them, smiling. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. That being said, I feel like we all need to be together for this to work. I realize that you guys have to travel for your jobs sometimes, and there are three homes between us but, whenever possible, we should all be here at night.”
“I agree,” he and Rand both replied, and the three of them laughed.
“You should both know by now that I’m a take-charge kind of guy, so if I step on any toes, be patient with me. I’m also a slob and jealous as fuck. Just warning you.” Rand slid closer—if that was even possible. He was already almost in Rory’s lap.
Rory knew the man was domineering and pushy and blew through a small hotel room like a tornado, leaving every stitch of clothing in the room on the floor in his wake. Jealous though? “How’s that going to work, exactly, the whole jealousy thing? I mean, let’s say you come home from work one day and I’m fucking Shan on the kitchen table. You gonna get pissy cause we didn’t wait for you?”
“Or just join in?” Shannon joked, a wry grin on his pretty face.
“I think that’s something we’ll figure out over time—how each of us feels about intimacy when we’re not all together. At this point, I’d say I’d fucking join in and fuck you while you fucked him.” Rand shrugged. Hearing those words fall from the man’s lips made Rory think about what it would feel like to have Rand inside him, and he shuddered. “The schematics of our relationship will probably be tricky at some point. But as long as we talk about it, don’t ignore it or sweep it under the rug no matter how hard it may be to talk about, at the end of the day, we’ll be stronger.”
“Wow, look at you making sense.” He poked the bear.
“Ha, ha.” Rand smacked him softly on the leg. “Jealousy wouldn’t apply to the two of you, dumbass. And don’t think I didn’t notice the way your body reacted to me saying I wanted to fuck you, Agent.” Rand leaned over him, slanting his mouth over Rory’s, the kiss leaving him wanting more, making him forget about the constant dull throb in his shoulder, even if just for a few seconds.
“It’s late,” Rand whispered into his mouth, his breath warm on Rory’s lips. “We should eat and get some sleep. We have all the time in the world to explore this, us—but you need your rest, Rory.”
As if on cue, he yawned and his stomach growled. “I’ll make us some sandwiches.” Shannon hurried into the kitchen.
With Rand’s assistance, he stood and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He never realized exactly how much a person used their shoulder muscles until his were damaged. Little things like brushing his teeth or trying to take a piss became chores instead of habits. The worst was waking up and instinctively stretching before thinking. The pain would ratchet from his neck to his toes and back up, leaving him dizzy and sometimes nauseous. As much as it hurt, Rory rolled his shoulders, the relief of tension in his muscles making the pain from his wound bearable.
There was a soft knock on the door. “You good?” Rand peeked into the room. He nodded, trying to pull the sweats he was wearing up with one hand. “Here, let me.” Rand came up behind him, his eyes on Rory’s in the mirror. He reached down and grabbed the waistband of the pants, his thumbs gliding along Rory’s thighs, and it was oddly arousing. “Come on, let’s eat.”
They ate in the living room while watching a football game until he started dozing off, and Shannon insisted it was time to go to bed. It was disappointing when Rand refused to sleep in the bed with them, but he understood the man’s reasoning. A king-sized bed wasn’t large enough for the three of them not to bump into one another during the night, and Rand refused to do anything that would hurt Rory or cause him more pain. “All right, we’ll take turns then,” Shannon offered, though somehow he knew that wouldn’t be happening either. Rand was being very patient and gentle, careful not to shove his way into the mix.
“Good night, you two.” Rand kissed each of them on the cheek before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He lay awake for a while listening to the world still moving around them. Crickets chirped, a train horn blew in the distance, Shannon snored softly while Rand sawed wood in the living room. This was his new normal. Knowing what the end result would be, he’d gladly do it all over again—as long as he got to keep Shannon and Rand.
Chapter Thirty One
Rand
“Hey, come on in.” He kissed his sister on the cheek as she came into the loft, Connie right behind her, carrying two six-packs of craft beer. The Cowboys were playing and he, Rory, and Shannon had decided to have the girls as well as Frank and Taylor over to watch the game. It was their first get-together with friends and family since announcing their intent to become a throuple. In the two weeks since leaving the hospital, the two couples had been around to help with meals, grocery shopping, and cleaning, but this was their first official soiree.
“Claire, Con, hey!” Shannon ran over to hug each of them, the two women following him into the kitchen like a couple of excited puppies. They doted on the young man, his sister, and her girlfriend, and Rand couldn’t have been happier about it. Shannon’s youth and vibrancy pulled them in like moths to a flame.
Taylor came around the corner, and, seeing his best friend and the women buzzing around in the kitchen, he smiled and shook his head. “What are you guys making?” Taylor asked, stepping around Claire to open the fridge and grab four beers.
“Whatever it is, it smells wonderful. Thanks, babe.” Frank stopped at the table, waiting for his fiancé to pop the caps on the beers before grabbing two of them and a kiss, turning and going back to the living room where Rory and the football game were waiting.
“Sausage balls, stuffed artichokes, and seven-layer dip.” Shannon opened the oven to slide two trays in, the wonderful aromas tickling Rand’s nose. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d actually like artichokes, but the way Shannon prepared them with six different cheeses, Italian bread crumbs, and olive oil was actually delicious.
Claire carried a large bowl over to the island that sat between the kitchen and the door, placing the dip beside the chips and salsa. Rand walked over and pulled out one of the barstools he’d picked up on a whim earlier in the week to replace the flimsy ones that he didn’t think had ever been used, judging by the thick layer of dust on the seats. Shopping was definitely not a priority for Rand Davis—ne
ver had been—but he needed a dresser that would fit in the corner of the bedroom closet so that Shannon didn’t murder him in his sleep for leaving his clothes all over the floor. The sturdy chairs with black legs and comfortable red leather seats matched the subtle wood and stainless steel colors in the kitchen perfectly. “Maybe you should break that mess up.” Taylor pointed at the huddle in the corner by the fridge, Shannon, Claire, and Connie talking quietly and grinning.
Shaking his head, Rand took a swig from his bottle of beer. “Not my circus, not my monkeys.”
Taylor choked on his beer, sputtering and laughing. “Haven’t you heard? My monkeys fly.”
Rory came up behind him, leaning in for a quick kiss. Rand smiled, remembering his reference to the wicked witch while Rory was still in the hospital. Lord, had it only been a couple of weeks? It felt like years had gone by since the shooting. He glanced at the area over by the bathroom where Rory’s blood painted the floor that night, then at the section in the kitchen where Tuan’s lifeless body fell, a bullet in his brain compliments of Agent Connie Gonzales. They were lucky, truly, and Rand not only realized that, he thanked God for it. Losing Rory before he had the chance to love him would have been a travesty. He and the alluring agent still butted heads at times, and there were plenty of days when Rand couldn’t decide if he wanted to whip his ass or hold him down and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. That would probably never change, but as Rand liked to say, he was up for the challenge.
Shannon was different in so many ways. Agile and fierce, his dancing queen usually commanded all the attention in the room, which was perfectly fine with Rand. At times though, Shannon’s vulnerability clouded his eyes and slowed his movements. His young lover was like a flower: beautiful and brilliant but left on its own without tender love and care, it would wilt and wither away. Perhaps it was how different each of them was that solidified their partnership. Three men that consciously came together but were still individuals at the end of the day. Each of them loved the other differently, but it was still love—which was all that mattered.