Secrets in Edgewood: The Complete Series

by Kate Hawthorne

  Calvin listened to clothes rustle behind him as Emory dressed silently, and when he heard Emory begin to gather his wallet and phone and room key from the top of the dresser, he shrugged his arm in the air, hoping to catch Emory’s attention without waking Graham.

  It worked, and Emory walked around the other side of the bed, stepping into the sun that cast a soft glow over the carpet. Emory squatted down at the side of the bed, coming eye level with Calvin. He looked much more awake than Calvin felt.

  “Go back to sleep,” Emory whispered.

  “He’s cooking me with all that body heat.”

  “He’s a furnace.”

  “Good luck with the contract.” Calvin managed a sleepy smile, and Emory reached forward, tracing the bottom curve of Calvin’s lip.

  “It’s just a technicality. I’ll be back before breakfast.”

  “Will you bring coffee?” He closed his eyes and yawned.

  “And muffins.” Emory leaned in and dropped a kiss against his mouth. “And an apple.”

  “Why apples?”

  “Easy to carry.”

  Calvin opened his eyes to see Emory’s crooked smile. God, he was so young and so handsome, and so…everything.

  “I love you,” Calvin said.

  “I love you.” Emory’s stare drifted over Calvin’s shoulder. “I love him.”

  “He knows.”

  “Tell him anyway.” Emory stood up and brushed his hands down the front of his slim cut, gray slacks.

  “He’ll get a big ego,” Calvin chuckled and closed his eyes.

  “I’m buying him a restaurant. It won’t possibly get any bigger.”

  Calvin nodded and snuggled backward, pressing his body against Graham’s. Emory put his shoes on, grabbed the rest of his things and slipped out of the room. The door closed behind him with a quiet click, and a low groan rumbled out of Graham’s chest.

  “You talk so loud,” Graham mumbled, looping an arm around Calvin’s waist and pulling him closer.

  “Go back to sleep,” he whispered.

  Graham bucked his hips forward, his cock settling between Calvin’s ass cheeks. He inhaled sharply when Graham’s hand slid down from his belly toward his own erection. Graham made a fist around his length, but didn’t stroke him. He just…held him. In every way.

  “I want you,” Graham said, his voice rough from sleep and scratchy with need.

  “Do you want to wait for Emory to come back?”

  “I’m not that old.” Graham rested his lips against Calvin’s shoulder and smiled. “I have more than one in me.”

  “Such a giver.”

  “Mmmn,” Graham agreed, rolling away for the briefest moment before returning and assuming the same position he’d been in seconds before. Graham adjusted his lower half, then a slippery and wet cock sought out Calvin’s hole, breaching him with no prep and a tight stretch.

  “Fuck,” Calvin cursed under his breath and Graham entered him in a painfully slow glide.

  This wasn’t his first time, far from it, and while he didn’t often need prep, the times he was penetrated without it always felt more… He didn’t know the word, and he wouldn’t find it, because as his brain worked its way through the thesaurus, Graham seated himself fully.

  Graham didn’t move once he was in. He only wrapped his arms around Calvin’s body and held him, his mouth still flush against Calvin’s back and every other inch of their bodies that could touch, were. He closed his eyes, and Graham’s cock pulsed inside of him, twitching and thickening, stretching him more with every second that passed.

  Calvin tried to hold still, tried to stay calm, tried to breathe, but his own dick dripped a steady stream of precum onto the sheets, and his thighs trembled from the restraint he needed to remain still. He pushed backward, drawing a quiet laugh from his husband.

  “Settle down,” Graham said softly. “You said I’m a giver, let me give.”

  Calvin’s eyes rolled toward the back of his head and he tried to not fuck himself on Graham’s dick to get himself off, but this stillness was torture. He forced his eyes open and he looked at the shadows being cast from the sunrise, hoping he could distract himself from the hard cock piercing him.

  Graham’s hand came around, his fingers pressed into Calvin’s thigh, pulling back and lifting up.

  “Fuck,” he grunted.

  Graham tucked Calvin’s ankle behind the back of his leg, holding him open and exposed while impaling him from behind.

  “Later,” Graham said, finally starting to move, “I’ll do this to you again and let Emory watch.”

  Graham’s body gyrated behind him, a steady, smooth glide, moving in and out of Calvin in the barest amounts. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t jerky or hard, but it was torture all the same, as Graham’s movements didn’t stop, didn’t slow, but didn’t quicken either. Calvin’s whimpers fell on deaf ears, his pleas for more and harder went unanswered. The only sign Graham was even listening to him was the tightening of his fingers against Calvin’s thigh, which would no doubt leave bruises once they were in the full light of day.

  Being inside Calvin was always like coming home. Graham flexed his palm against the straining muscles of Calvin’s inner thigh, as he slowly stretched him apart from behind. He kissed the back of Calvin’s neck, then bit him, sinking his teeth into the skin just below Calvin’s hairline. In response, Calvin’s muscles tightened around him as he whimpered.

  “God,” Graham panted, still working his body in the same, slow motion. He gritted his teeth together, fighting back his own urges to flip Calvin onto his stomach and pummel him into the mattress. That wasn’t how he normally liked to fuck. He liked the tender intimacy he found with lingering touches and kisses. He liked spending himself fully inside one, or sometimes both, of his men, then falling asleep with his dick still in their warm grasp.

  He liked…

  He loved…

  “You,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  Calvin shifted, looking over his shoulder. The move affected his whole body and his inner muscles squeezed down on Graham’s cock.

  “Kiss me,” Calvin said, and Graham did.

  The angle was awkward, but he crashed their mouths together, licking past Calvin’s lips with a low growl. At that, Calvin started to move, fucking himself back against Graham’s cock in desperation.

  “Take your time.”

  “Need it,” Calvin grunted.

  Graham pulled Calvin’s leg over, shoving him onto his back and settling between his thighs. His cock stayed in place and as Calvin moved, Graham shifted deeper. They both shivered, and Graham raised Calvin’s calves to his shoulders, nearly folding him in half.

  “Show me,” Graham said. “Show me how much you need it.”

  Calvin tilted his head and sealed their mouths back together. His tongue explored Graham’s mouth and his fingers dug into Graham’s waist, short fingernails no doubt leaving perfect half-moon divots in their wake. This was what Graham loved—this connection, this…fusion of bodies and hearts, and…Calvin tried to pull him closer, then his body stiffened. Calvin cried into Graham’s mouth as he came, his cock held tight between their bellies, his cum now smeared in Graham’s dark curls.

  He loved when Calvin came, untouched.

  He loved…Calvin.

  It physically hurt him to think about how close he’d come to losing this man forever. His husband, well, his ex-husband, technically. Even though they had gone through with finalizing their divorce when things became serious with Emory, he’d never not be able to think of Calvin as his husband, and he could never not think of Emory in the same way. When he thought about how selfish he’d been to not understand why Calvin worked the way he did, and how easily he’d forgotten that Calvin’s dedication and drive had been one of the things he’d found most attractive about the man when they’d first started dating.

  And then there was Emory, so young, and so different, but who needed him in the way Graham was desperate to be needed. But Emory needed C
alvin, too, and it had been like falling in love with him all over again.

  On the bedside table, Graham’s phone rang, the ringtone recognizable as the one he’d set for Emory.

  “Answer it,” he said, reaching for the table and dropping the phone in Calvin’s hand.

  Calvin hit the green phone button on the screen and managed to get the phone onto the pillow Emory had been asleep on hours before.

  “You’re awake,” Emory’s voice said through the speaker.

  “I’m inside the man who’s wearing your ring,” Graham said.

  “Jesus.”

  Calvin’s eyelashes fluttered, and Graham continued to fuck him with long and fluid pumps of his hips.

  “Come back. I can hold out for you.”

  Emory gave a small laugh, then his voice came in a hushed whisper, “That’s what I’m calling about. I promised Calvin coffee…”

  “And an apple,” Calvin interrupted, Graham snapped his hips and Calvin moaned.

  “You’re killing me,” Emory grumbled. “Anyway, Bob wants to take me out for breakfast and some golf and it would be poor form to say no, considering he basically just gave me five million dollars.”

  Graham stilled.

  “You didn’t say it was that much,” he rasped.

  “It’s pennies,” Emory assured him. “Don’t worry about it. You deserve more.”

  Calvin’s hands slipped off his waist and moved to his front, his fingers snaking their way through his earlier release and dragging the sticky trails up Graham’s chest. Calvin rubbed his palms against Graham’s chest, over his heart, and Graham grabbed his hand and stilled him.

  “When will you be back?” Calvin asked, turning his hand within Graham’s so their fingers laced together.

  “I don’t know. But I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Love you,” Calvin said, and Graham bottomed out, turning the end of the promise into a choked groan.

  “I love both of you.”

  The call disconnected and Graham collapsed down, keeping his and Calvin’s fingers twined together on the pillow beside Calvin’s head. He pressed their foreheads together, their noses brushing together and their breath mixing between their parted lips. The only sounds in the room were their tangled breaths and the soft slap every time their bodies came together.

  Graham’s body broke out in gooseflesh and he changed his pace, his hips jerking uncontrollably as his orgasm rolled inside of him, bursting forth. Calvin used his mouth to muffle Graham’s shout, using his tongue and lips to devour the sounds of his pleasure. Graham’s cock throbbed, spilling his release deep into Calvin, who did his best to hold Graham through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

  When he felt stable, he rolled to the side, gently easing Calvin’s legs down and using his tired fingers to massage the muscles. Calvin turned onto his side and lowered his hand, dragging his thick thumb over the sticky, wet tip of Graham’s cock. Graham grimaced and tangled their fingers together

  “Coffee,” Calvin grunted, his eyes twinkling.

  The sun was up now, glaring in through the small break in the curtains. Graham pushed the pillow out from beneath his head, landing with a thump on the mattress, but serving its purpose. The sleepy mess of Calvin’s hair blocked the sun from his eyes.

  “We can go do that,” he agreed. “After we shower.”

  Calvin yawned and stretched, sliding across the bed so he was lined up with Graham’s sweaty body. Calvin wrapped his arms around him and kissed his chin.

  “And then what?”

  “Then we can get breakfast. Maybe go to the pool.”

  “Will you buy me a drink with an umbrella?” Calvin asked, dipping his chin to his chest so Graham couldn’t see his face.

  “If that’s what you want,” Graham said.

  “I just want you. I want him.”

  Graham raised his arms toward the ceiling, giving himself a good stretch. He untangled himself from Calvin and sat on the edge of the bed, flexing his toes against the carpet.

  “Do you ever regret it?” he asked.

  “Regret what?”

  The sheets rustled, and Calvin was there again, on him. Touching with his body, his hands, his mouth. He kissed the side of Graham’s neck and rested his chin on his shoulder.

  “The divorce.”

  Calvin let out a loud sigh and shifted, sitting beside him on the bed so their bare thighs touched. Graham looked down at Calvin’s leg, the thick hairs around the base of his cock, the sweat and cum that dried now on both of their bodies. Calvin pulled his hand over and kissed his knuckles, then gave him a sad smile.

  “I don’t regret it,” he said. “I regret we got to that point, but I’m so thankful for what we have now that I wouldn’t want to have done it any other way.”

  “Do you still have your ring?” Graham asked, biting the inside of his cheek, unsure of what he wanted the answer to be.

  “Of course.”

  “I do, too.”

  “What if we got married again?” Graham asked.

  “What?” Calvin jumped up from the bed and spun on the balls of his feet, leveling a sharp and terrified look at Graham. “What are you talking about?”

  “Not.” He shook his head and stood, walking toward Calvin with measured steps. “Not like that. Not you and me.”

  “You mean…”

  “I mean, it is Vegas,” Graham answered with a small shrug.

  “I don’t hate it, but I also don’t hate coffee.” Calvin rubbed his hand over his head and grimaced. “Can we talk about it after coffee?”

  Graham kissed him, walking him backward and into the bathroom.

  “We can talk about if after coffee,” he said, barely breaking away long enough to turn the water on before returning his attention to Calvin’s gaping mouth.

  Emory hated golf. Like, he viscerally hated it, and he hated that he’d been playing since he could walk, and he hated that it was muscle memory and that he’d never forget how to swing the club straight, correcting his natural hook. More so, he hated the heat, he hated the politics of business, and he was ready to wrap this day up and return to Calvin and Graham, who had looked utterly sinful tucked away together in bed when he’d left early in the morning.

  His business meeting had turned into breakfast, had turned into golf, had turned into an early afternoon meal, and he tried to be gracious. He really tried, but he was getting tired and his feet hurt, and the wool of his slacks itched, and he was done.

  “Bob,” he finally said, pushing the plate away from him and tossing his napkin onto the table. “I’m beat.”

  “You can’t handle this Vegas heat?” Bob laughed, resting his hands on his belly and leaning back from the table.

  “I’m not used to it,” he agreed. “Would it be rude if we called it a day?”

  “Naw, not at all, kid.”

  Emory bristled, nearly thirty now, but forced a smile anyway—one he hoped was worth five million dollars or more.

  “It’s been great today, really. Thank you. And I’m really looking forward to doing business with you.” Emory stood up and stretched out his hand for a handshake.

  Bob waved him off, pushing away from the table and standing, pulling Emory into a bear hug and slapping his back a couple times.

  “We’re past handshakes now. We’re partners.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Right.”

  “So, you’ll get in touch once you’re settled back in Edgewood?”

  “Of course. Give me a week or so to get re-acquainted once we get back and you’ll have the menu drafts and the other contracts.”

  Reciting the business end of things was easy, and he was tired of it. He’d been spewing off numbers and figures about business plans, disaster recovery events, farm-to-table food, and craft breweries. His brain was officially empty of everything important, the only things left…Calvin and Graham.

  He finished saying goodbye, then slipped into the lobby of Bob’s country club out near Red Rock Canyon and ordered a ca
r to the Strip. On the way, he texted Graham and Calvin, letting them know he was on his way back to the hotel.

  Graham: We’re not in the room.

  Me: Where are you?

  Graham: Leaving the spa.

  Me: Do anything fun?

  Graham: Are body massages fun?

  Me: Are you trying to tell me someone else had their hands all over both of your bodies???

  Graham: We’re smooth and clean. Going to Ornate.

  Ornate was one of the bar and dance clubs in their hotel. Emory looked down at his watch with a small frown. There was no way he’d been gone long enough for it to be time to turn out to a dance club.

  Me: A little early?

  Graham: City of Sin, Emory. City of Sin. Come find us when you’re ready.

  Emory let the screen of his phone fade to black and he sighed, waiting for the car to get him back to the hotel.

  Twenty minutes later, he was safely back in the suite Bob had booked in his name, Calvin and Graham noticeably absent. With a frown, Emory took a quick glance at the digital clock on the bedside table, then stripped out of his clothes and headed for the shower. He rinsed away the sunscreen and the sweat, then he gave himself a thorough cleaning and turned off the water. With a towel wrapped around his waist, Emory padded into the room and stared at their clothes in the closet.

  He absolutely loved Calvin’s and Graham’s clothes, and he loved the way everything the three of them packed fit together, unintentionally packing shirts and suits in the same color palette. He reached out and fingered the sleeve of a bright blue long sleeve shirt that he’d brought, plucking it off the hanger before he could second-guess himself.

  His life had been a lot easier since he’d stopped second-guessing himself. He’d done so much of it when he’d first gotten involved with Calvin and Graham, he was always surprised when he had any doubt left in himself. But he’d gotten over it then, and he would continue to get over it now. He was happier than he’d ever been, than he’d ever thought possible, and sealing this deal today was icing on the cake.