by A M Snead
You get your ass up. You get dressed. You put this whole fucking mistake behind you. And you do it right fucking now.
It wasn’t Jill’s voice prodding him, but that of self-preservation. This morning, Jill was unusually silent. And Jack was glad. He didn’t need her in his head telling him one mishap wasn’t grounds for shutting himself off again. Had she been there to try and convince him of such, Jack’s reply would have been—The fuck it isn’t.
Maybe this was a good thing. It hurt like fucking hell, but sometimes pain could serve a purpose. Like touching a hot stove—if you have any brains whatsoever, you only do it once. If this was going to happen, then perhaps it was good that it happened now, at the beginning, before he had had a chance to really dive into the man. Then the aftereffects would have been crippling, devastating…as it had been for Jill.
We were drunk. It was just sex. It meant nothing. I’ve fucked guys for the fun of it before, no big deal. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.
Jack opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling.
Yeah, I’m fan-fucking-tastic.
He was used to the hole in his chest. So what difference did it make if it was just a little bigger this morning than it had been last night before Garrett left his bed? He’d been living with it just fine for the last six months. The pain would dull, and he would be fine. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough “distractions” to help occupy his mind until he finally went numb. He had come here to be a porn star. And a damn good one at that. Focus on your career, baby, and fuck these boys like they ain’t ever been fucked before.
Jack smiled heavily. Yeah. That’s what he would do. And if Gideon put him back together with Garrett—he’d fuck him too. Show him that last night didn’t matter to Jack either. Jack Heart was fucking fine without him. His brief “glitch” in believing there might actually be something to the whole love bullshit—that was over. He would not make that mistake again.
Think about Lucas, and Derek, and…
Bodies shifting beside him brought a genuine smile to Jack’s lips.
And the twins.
Who the fuck needed Garrett?
The boys came awake simultaneously. Gentle hands caressed lazily across Jack’s stomach, his chest. Warm, nude bodies pushed against him, stretching then snuggling. Lean, supple legs curled around his and firm, growing arousals rubbed his hips.
Mickey’s soft lips touched his arm and laid tender kisses on his skin along a path up to his ear. “Morning, Jack.” Sleep remained heavy in his quiet voice. “Did you sleep okay?”
Cuddling up against his other arm, Marcus rested his head on Jack’s shoulder and gazed up at his face.
Jack curled his arms around both boys. “Better than okay,” he murmured.
“Are you…okay?” Marcus asked softly. He traced slow patterns on Jack’s chest with a single fingertip.
He’d come to them last night a mess and broke down in their arms. The twins had held him and comforted him until he’d calmed, then they made love to him with more tenderness and care than he’d ever experienced in his life. Maybe he didn’t believe in the traditional “romance movie” kind of love, but he did believe in the sincerity and compassion of the twins. What they offered was real, soothing…healing. It was all the love he needed.
Jack cupped the back of Marcus’ head and drew him into a tender kiss. “Yeah, beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m okay. Thanks to you two.” He hadn’t given them any details and they hadn’t asked. But he’d left the club with Garrett, so it surely didn’t take much for them to figure out that whatever had been wrong with him last night involved Garrett.
“We helped you feel better?” The sweet innocence in Marcus’ question caused a slight knot in Jack’s throat; had it not been for the twins…last night would have been unbearable and sleep would have evaded him, leaving him awake to suffer with the reality that Garrett had used him—just as Scotty said he would.
“Oh, babe.” Jack kissed Marcus, then Mickey. “You didn’t just make me feel better…you fixed me. Because of you, I’m good to go this morning.”
“Really?” Doubt wavered Mickey’s voice. “You were…” He hesitated, then whispered with emotion, “Really bad off last night. Are you sure everything is okay now?”
Jack ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair and kissed his forehead. “A-okay, baby,” he murmured. “I’m gonna be just fine. Don’t you worry.”
The boys exchanged a doubtful glance; they wanted to ask Jack what had happened last night but refrained from any questions. Jack was thankful. He didn’t want to talk about last night—or Garrett—right now. Ever, actually. It was done and over with. No need to ever mention it again.
“I hope that’s true,” Mickey said softly, a note of uncertainty in his voice. “That you’re okay.”
“It is.” Jack urged Mickey into another kiss, prolonging it this time, allowing it to deepen with passion. His right arm tightened around Marcus and he drew back from Mickey and turned his attention to the other twin. As his lips connected with Marcus’ scrumptious mouth, Mickey began a slow descent down Jack’s body, warm lips leaving a trail of heated kisses, wet tongue drawing a slick path over the surface of his skin.
Jack moaned through his kiss with Marcus, velvet tongues twisting around one another inside Marcus’ mouth. The blankets tented with an instant erection in response to both Marcus’ kiss and Mickey’s caressing hands and exploring mouth. His lips pushed against Jack’s belly button, tongue dipping in, teasing. Jack’s abdomen jerked and quivered and he groaned.
The blankets lifted a little and Mickey disappeared underneath, slipping in between Jack’s legs.
“Oh God…” Jack gasped softly against Marcus’ lips as Mickey began to handle him sensually, licking his hard flesh, delving lower to tease his heavy sack. “Oh fuck…” Jack lifted his hips, shoulders pushing down against the bed. His arm remained wrapped securely around Marcus who was now sucking his neck and caressing his torso, hips shoved against Jack, his erection as stiff as Jack’s own. Jack whimpered as their loving eradicated the last vestiges of the previous night’s events.
Yes, my angels…make it all go away…make me forget.
Jack closed his eyes and literally felt the ache in his heart fading as his body heated to the touch and caress of the twins. He squeezed his eyes tighter on reflex as Mickey took Jack’s cock in his mouth and stroked him slowly, his soft hands gripping Jack’s hard flesh, moving up and down his shaft, following the rhythm of his mouth.
“Yes, baby…” Jack moaned. Marcus moved down and slipped under the blankets with Mickey. Jack’s breath hitched, and he bit his lower lip. Oh God, thank you for these angels. I don’t know what I would do without them right now. Jack didn’t know if praying just then was a blasphemous act or not, but his gratitude was sincere and real.
As before, the boys took turns pleasuring him—which Jack was fast becoming accustomed to. He pushed the blankets down so he could watch them. It turned him on to unbelievable degrees the way they so smoothly transitioned back and forth between their mouths, sucking him, so perfectly in sync with one another. Marcus caught Jack’s gaze as his warm, tight mouth slid up and down his cock. He must have read Jack’s deeper thoughts and desires because he pulled off Jack and crawled up, straddling his body. His smile was angelic as he rubbed his hands on Jack’s chest and leaned forward, whispering, “Make love to me, Jack.”
Mickey sat up and moved out from between Jack’s legs as Jack wrapped Marcus in his arms and slowly turned them over, covering Marcus’ body. Up until now, it had been the twins “doing unto him.” He hadn’t taken the dominant role with them before now.
The boy felt amazing beneath him, his tender body firm but still so soft to the touch. Jack kissed him long and deep, his hands gliding lower and pushing under Marcus’ rear, lifting him up as the boy opened his legs, welcoming him. Jack ached to shove inside him, recalling how amazing he felt from their time on the hammock, but he drew back a little, ending
the kiss. “Give me a condom,” he said with a plea as he shuddered.
Marcus caressed Jack’s upper body, eyes heavy with desire. “You don’t have to, Jack,” he whispered.
A shaky groan pushed up Jack’s throat as Mickey rubbed his hands up Jack’s back and kissed him between the shoulder blades. “We’re clean,” Mickey moaned softly and kissed the back of his neck. “You’re clean.”
Am I? Jack wondered uneasily. Garrett had fucked him last night without protection, and in light of the events…Jack had to wonder how many boys Garrett made a habit of fucking…and how many of them did he do bareback? Even if the risk was a small one, any at all was too great to chance infecting these beautiful boys.
“I’m not worried about you two not being clean,” Jack said. “But I’ve…I’ve had unprotected sex, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
“As you wish, Jack.” Mickey left the bed then returned with a pack of condoms. He gave one to Jack, took one for himself and placed the others on the nightstand.
Jack sheathed himself, added saliva to his member then moved back into position. Marcus gazed at him. Lovingly—that’s the first word that came to mind to describe the look in Marcus’ eyes. He pushed into the boy. Marcus gasped and clung to him, and in moments their bodies were moving together in a perfect, smooth rhythm. Jack clutched the kid in his arms and shoved into him again and again, his face buried in Marcus’ neck, moans slipping up out of them both. “Oh my God…” Jack panted. “Oh baby…you feel so good…so perfect…”
Jack trembled when Mickey touched him again, then his chest grazed Jack’s back and his stiff arousal nudged Jack’s entrance. Oh, fuck yes. Tears stung his eyes as Mickey became one with him and Marcus, and he was enveloped between the two boys, cocooned all around—inside and out—with their love.
“Oh my God,” Jack gasped, his body taking Mickey in all the way. His thrusts intensified as his cock hardened even more. Marcus clutched both Jack and Mickey. Mickey’s thrusts shoved Jack into Marcus with added force and Marcus gasped, smiled, and begged for more.
The combined pleasures were quickly shoving all three of them to the edge and over. Jack hugged Marcus in his arms, squeezing him to his body, their skin slicking with sweat and growing hot to the touch.
“Fuck,” Jack panted hard, erratic. Mickey’s cock stroked in time with Jack’s own, nailing his magic spot with each thrust as Jack simultaneously assaulted Marcus’ prostate. Their cries and whimpers mingled and exploded throughout the bedroom, the bed protesting as the intensity of their fucking heightened. “Oh my God! Fuck!” Jack released Marcus and clawed the sheets, using his arms for leverage to drive into him harder, deeper. Mickey straightened up a bit and grabbed Jack’s hips, fucking him hard and fast.
“Uuhhh!!” Marcus yelled as he received double the power. “Yes! Fuck me! Uuh!”
“Jack!” Mickey cried, fingers gouging Jack’s flesh. “I’m…I’m gonna cum!”
Jack was right there as well. “Ah fuck, baby! Me too!” He pushed back a little and grabbed Marcus’ hard cock and pumped him vigorously. “Come on, beautiful!” he gasped, eyes locked on Marcus’ flushed, glistening face. “Cum with us, baby!”
The tightness in Marcus’ face, the strain in his body, told Jack he was as ready as they were. Marcus gripped fistfuls of blanket, hips thrusting as he gasped and panted and choked on cries as all three of them plunged over into the abyss of ecstasy together. Marcus released first, showering himself and Jack with hot cum, his body jerking and locking. Jack yelled as he and Mickey came at once, the trio bursting into a momentary frenzied fuck-fest as they lost all control in the throes of their orgasms.
Jack dropped onto Marcus and hugged him again, sweat-slick face pressed to Marcus’ wet, burning throat. He shuddered as Mickey sank against his back and held him, kissing his shoulders, his back. A sudden rush of emotion swept through Jack unexpectedly and he couldn’t stop it before it burst out of him in a fit of sobs. He clung to Marcus and Mickey hugged him tighter.
Even as the sobs tried to rip him apart inside, he screamed at himself to get a grip, that he didn’t care about last night—or Garrett.
You will not let this break you, goddammit! You won’t! You’re fine!
Jack trembled in the twins’ arms.
You are…you’re fine…
26 “The Cold Shoulder”
“Jack…?” Concern shadowed Marcus’ eyes. “Are you…?”
Jack sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. What the fuck had happened? He’d felt fine. Better than fine. Making love with the twins was the best feeling in the world. Why had he suddenly broken down like that? He cleared his throat. “I’m okay, Marcus,” he whispered. “I mean…I will be.” He straightened and wiped his face. The two boys were lying together on the bed behind him, watching him with uncertainty. “Hey.” He smiled and twisted around so he was facing them more directly. “I’m fine. I promise.”
They both gazed at him, a faint glimmer of tears in their blue eyes; they had cried with him, even though they didn’t know where his pain was coming from. But they had felt it, seen it in him, and that was enough for them to experience it as well.
Mickey pushed up on one arm and reached out, touching Jack’s cheek. His fingertips gently grazed Jack’s face. “If you want to talk…we won’t tell anyone what you say. We promise.” He glanced at Marcus and the other boy nodded, his soft eyes on Jack.
“I know you wouldn’t, baby,” Jack said thickly. Their care for him caused the knot in his throat to swell; except for Jill, no one had ever shown so much concern for him. He would like to say that his parents were in that small category, and perhaps they had been when he was a young child…before he “came out.” After that, he became something else in their eyes. He wasn’t sure just what, but he didn’t seem to be their son anymore. Only Jill had truly, unconditionally loved him, cared for him more than she had cared for herself. The twins freely and sincerely offered Jack that same love and it made him want to wrap them in his arms and never let them go. “But there’s nothing to talk about. It’ll run its course and then it’ll go away.” He covered Mickey’s hand and kissed the center of his palm. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
The twins remained unconvinced, Jack could see it in their eyes, but he didn’t know what else to do or say to put them at ease. Jack stood up, found his clothes and began to dress.
“You can sleep with us for as long as you want,” Mickey told him quietly. “I mean, if you don’t want to sleep alone in your room.”
Jack sighed and smiled. He tugged his pants up over his hips, leaving them open as he returned to the bed and leaned down, kissing each boy on the lips. “I’ll surely be back,” he murmured. “And thank you…both…for everything.” He withdrew, but before he had fully straightened, Marcus came up off the bed and threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tight.
“Please really be okay, Jack,” he whispered, voice trembling.
Jack held him tight and looked over his shoulder at Mickey. He thought about what Garrett had told him about Marcus, how he had been when he’d first come there. Jack didn’t know what kind of situation he had come out of, but he sensed that the boy understood pain—and could recognize it, even when one was trying to conceal it. Mickey had healed Marcus, that’s what Garrett had said. But even in healing, you didn’t lose the ability to spot the hurt in someone else.
“I am,” Jack assured him and kissed his neck softly. “I’ll be fine.”
It’s true, Jack told himself as he stepped out of the twins’ room, fastening his pants. What happened with Garrett was just a little glitch. But you’re fine now. You—
Jack stiffened, his fingers halting on the fly of his jeans, when Garrett emerged from his own bedroom. The man’s stare went to his partially open fly, flicked to the twins’ bedroom door then back to Jack’s face. Something akin to betrayal swept through the man’s eyes and in turn boiled Jack’s blood; did he really have the fucking balls to judge Jack—af
ter leaving Jack’s bed to go and fuck Scotty?
The accusatory look in Garrett’s stare vanished, replaced by a dull gaze that confirmed to Jack what he already thought—he was nothing but another conquest for Garrett.
Fuck you, asshole. Jack turned away as casually as he could despite the sudden spike in his heart rate, and continued to fasten his pants as he walked toward his own bedroom.
Footsteps thumped on the hall carpet behind him and he half expected Garrett to suddenly grab his arm and halt him. But the footsteps veered away, and Jack heard Garrett descending the stairs.
Jack shoved through his bedroom door and closed it hard behind him, heart pounding out of control, pissed at himself for the stab of disappointment that Garrett hadn’t come after him, hadn’t…
What? “Explained” why he left you to go dick Scotty? What is there to explain? And why do you fucking care?
Jack stood in the middle of the floor and stared at his bed, the previous night’s images exploding through his mind. Even with the alcohol in their system, he had been so sure that what happened between them had been much more than just sex.
“It wasn’t,” he whispered coldly. “It’s over. Move on.”
Stripping off his clothes, Jack entered the shower and stood beneath the hot spray, taking comfort in the soothing heat and allowing it to cleanse his mind and heart as well as his body. When he stepped out of the shower fifteen minutes later, he did feel better.
This is the day that the Lord hath made, rejoice and be glad in it. One of Jill’s favorite verses. Though Jack wasn’t really feeling particularly friendly toward God these days—and especially not this morning—he considered that the verse might hold some good advice nonetheless. Happiness is the best revenge. When people fucked you over, they expected you to get pissed, enraged. It gave them some kind of charge, a sense of accomplishment. Show them you don’t give a fuck, and you steal their victory.
The last thing Jack would do was give Garrett the satisfaction of thinking he was broken. He would show that fucker just how “okay” he really was.