Loose Ends

by Kristen Ashley

  “Fuck yeah,” Maddox growled, fucking himself, fucking D’s hand.

  Diesel was so into the show, he jolted when Molly wrapped her fingers around his dick, coating it in lube, greasing him, preparing him.

  She did the job and moved silently away.

  The instant she was done, he couldn’t wait any longer. Diesel removed his fingers and replaced them with the tip of his cock, so when Maddox reared back, he took D.

  Heat.

  Tight and slick and fucking amazing.

  Maddox’s head shot back again on a grunt and he came up on his hands.

  “Down,” D hissed.

  Maddox went down and Diesel went at him. Pulling his hand from between Mad’s legs, going around his side and latching onto that big dick to stroke again, without his arm as an obstruction, he thrust deep.

  “Yeah, Christ, fuck, yeah,” Maddox groaned, rearing back into the cock up his ass.

  Diesel watched that fantastic body taking his in the moonlight, felt that huge, steel shaft in his hand, the clench and release as Maddox took D up his ass, and he loved that cock, that ass, that body.

  But the truth of it was . . .

  He loved that man.

  “Up,” he clipped. “All the way.”

  Maddox pushed up to sitting on D’s dick and D pumped up into him, slow, steady, enjoying the glide, sliding a hand up Mad’s ridged abs, tweaking a nipple, up, to his throat, closing his fingers around the muscles there, feeling his heart beat against D’s palm, strong and fast.

  Molly moved in and twisted both Maddox’s nipples. In response, he clamped down on D’s dick and the slow steady glide disappeared as Mad started riding wild.

  God.

  Fuck.

  Yeah.

  Goddamned beautiful.

  Every inch of him, inside out.

  Diesel slid his hand up, clamping under Maddox’s bearded jaw, shoving his head back until it hit D’s shoulder, growling, “Yeah, baby, ride that cock. Ride your man up your ass. Ride me.”

  Diesel pulsed up as Maddox drove down, giving him more, getting more, watching over Mad’s shoulder, down the wide, furred chest, the defined stomach as he jacked that gorgeous monster cock, Mad’s thighs spread wide, Diesel’s knees and thighs between them, Mad’s balls slamming into Diesel’s flesh.

  Beauty.

  Pure beauty.

  Perfection.

  Absolute.

  “Christ, fuck, Christ, fuck,” Maddox grunted, his ass clenching, milking D’s cock, practically hauling it up with him as they fucked, all of it scrambling D’s brain at the same time centering it, fixing it, staking it right there.

  In that moment.

  Connected.

  And then it happened.

  Lost in what was happening, D twisted Maddox’s head and there it was.

  They looked into each other’s eyes right before Diesel seized Maddox’s mouth.

  He shoved his tongue inside, tasting warmth and Mad, jacking up into his man, fisting his dick fast and hard, and swallowing down the snarling rumble as Maddox arched back into D and blew his cum straight up his own chest, shuddering full body even as he kept up the ride.

  He sucked D’s tongue hard right before D’s hips slammed into Mad’s ass and his world wiped clear of everything but that suction on his tongue and the release of his seed jetting deep inside his boy.

  The orgasm swept him up in something he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt and he bucked up into that tight like he’d do it for days, lips locked, fist clamped hard and still unconsciously rhythmically pumping Maddox’s dick as he groaned and growled into Mad’s mouth, shooting cum . . . and more, more, Christ . . . more.

  He drifted back to himself finding he was suckling at Maddox’s tongue in his mouth, Mad’s hand was cupped around the back of his head holding D to him, his fingers wrapped around D’s at his cock, slowing D’s roll, and he was sitting on D’s dick like he could do it for a year.

  D began to move his head away and that hand cupping him became fingers clenched in his hair.

  “Fuck no, baby,” his gravel sheared at D’s lips. Then he caught hold of Diesel’s lower one with his teeth and bit hard enough D could taste blood. He let him go and repeated, “Fuck. No.”

  D looked into Maddox’s eyes as close as they could get.

  “Get my plug, Molly, darlin’. Holdin’ D inside me tonight.”

  “Okay, honey,” Molly whispered instantly.

  D felt the bed move with Molly but he held Maddox’s gaze, not only because Mad had a hold of him and he couldn’t move it, but also because it hit him then what he’d done.

  He’d just made love to Maddox.

  Yeah, he’d fucked him on his knees with his ass on offer before he’d pulled him up to join the ride.

  But that wasn’t play or a savage fuck that practically forced a man to come.

  He’d made love to Molly on her knees and with her riding his dick, her back to his front and the other way around.

  And that’s what he’d just done to Mad.

  “Maddox—” he started, putting pressure on that hand in his hair and trying to pry his fingers from his boy’s cock.

  “No, D,” Maddox said low. He shifted in and D tried to stay loose as Mad touched his lips to D’s. Then he whispered, “Yeah,” and ran his tongue along D’s abused lower lip and D couldn’t beat back the shiver that caused. Dripping approval now, Mad whispered again, “Yeah.”

  More aware of what was happening than D, Maddox pulsed up and Diesel lost him at the back.

  Molly was there and she didn’t waste time sliding Maddox’s plug home.

  She then circled front, pulling off her nightie before kissing Maddox’s throat, doing it gliding her hands through Mad’s cum on his chest. Then she moved to D, kissing his throat, transferring that cum to D’s chest. Taking D’s mouth, she pressed close, wriggling, getting Mad’s cum on her. She shifted and took Maddox’s mouth, snuggling into him, coating herself with more cum.

  She was not being stealthy.

  Her point with Mad’s seed was crystal clear.

  They were his. Both of them.

  In all ways.

  And it was not the first time D had Mad all over him, but this time, he felt it on his skin with a heat so hot, it seared like a brand, at the same time like an ointment, sinking into the muscle, the flesh, the blood, down to the bone.

  She broke away, put her hand over Maddox’s in D’s hair, her other to Maddox’s head and pressing them together.

  Needing no encouragement, Maddox took D’s mouth.

  Not having the opportunity to get his head together, like his orgasm, when their mouths met, Diesel’s world wiped clear and he pulled his hand from Maddox’s cock. Lifting his other, he gripped his man on both sides of his neck and went at his mouth, taking, taking, Christ, devouring.

  Maddox gave that back.

  They changed positions, front to front, chests crushed together, their cocks brushing, D groaned against Mad’s tongue, Maddox pressed closer and kissed him harder, his beard scraping D’s skin. He felt Molly’s hand light on the base of his spine and slide lovingly up, in the back of his head knowing she was doing that to Maddox too.

  God.

  Shit.

  More than everything.

  Yeah, fuck yeah.

  Right there, in that bed, their three.

  More than everything.

  Maddox broke the kiss but immediately put his mouth to D’s ear.

  “Molly,” he said.

  Deep in the zone, he said nothing, just turned in unison with Mad.

  Maddox pulled her into position, her back to their fronts. Like a practiced dance, D went in from the back, dipping into her panties, curling around, finger fucking her, Maddox at the front, working her clit, both of them claimed a nipple, both of them had their mouths working her neck.

  She came within minutes, wet to the point of dripping when they began after watching her men go at each other, soaked and quivering by the time she crie
d out her climax.

  Maddox didn’t even allow her recovery. She was still panting when he took her down to her back, then forced Diesel down with her, on his side, covering her side.

  Then Maddox came down, on her other side, practically burying her, tangling his legs in D’s over Molly’s, his arm over her, curved around D, yanking them closer so they were a mound of hot, sweaty, cum-covered bodies in the middle of the bed.

  They could tangle, especially after a threesome.

  But not like this.

  Not even in the beginning.

  Never like this.

  D was a part of it and he still couldn’t tell where he ended and Molly or Maddox began.

  “Now, my babies, sleep,” Maddox ordered.

  “Okay, Mady,” Molly instantly, her tone openly happy, agreed.

  Diesel said nothing.

  “’Night, Molly,” Maddox said gently.

  “’Night, honey,” Molly replied.

  Maddox’s hand slid down to D’s ass and gripped. “’Night, D.”

  “’Night,” he grunted.

  Maddox chuckled and squeezed D’s ass.

  Yup.

  Maddox too.

  Happy.

  D shut his eyes.

  Tight.

  What the fuck had he done?

  “Love you, Mady,” Molly whispered then pulled out all the stops, “Love you, my DD.”

  She rarely called him DD, unless she was in a super loving mood. Not that he didn’t like it so she avoided it, just, he guessed, that “D” was already a nickname.

  “Love you, Mol,” no hesitation before Maddox carried on, “Love you, Diesel.”

  D screwed his eyes shut even tighter.

  He’d never said it.

  To Molly yes.

  Not to Mad.

  “Same, both,” D grunted.

  Maddox clamped on his ass harder, jerking them even closer.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Right.

  What . . .

  The fuck . . .

  Had he done?

  Molly let out a happy sigh and Diesel breathed deep.

  Tomorrow, he’d deal.

  Tomorrow, he’d pull his shit together.

  Tomorrow, he’d figure it out.

  A Meeting of the Hearts

  Maddox

  EARLY THE NEXT morning, Maddox grabbed the cup of joe he’d just poured, looked at Molly, who was showered, made up, but hadn’t done her hair, and was leaning against the counter, cradling her own cup of coffee, wearing her short robe.

  He grinned.

  She took her coffee cup from where she was holding it up to her mouth and grinned back, her eyes dancing, happy, elated . . . thrilled.

  He knew that feeling.

  Last night hadn’t been good.

  Last night had changed everything.

  They had more than hope.

  D was getting there.

  D was coming to him, to them.

  He was giving Mad—them—all of him.

  All of him.

  Mad wasn’t lost in that goodness. He knew D had freaked afterward when neither Molly nor Maddox had let it slide, like they usually did when Diesel got in the zone to make love to Maddox. Not calling attention to it. Just having it. This for fear if Diesel realized what he was doing, he’d stop doing it.

  Nope, last night, they’d made it clear to Diesel what he’d done.

  And how much it meant to them.

  So yeah, he’d freaked.

  But he hadn’t pulled away.

  He had not pulled away.

  And now Maddox had to waste no time making certain he stayed the course.

  He walked the coffee back to the bedroom and went directly to the bathroom.

  Like usual, on autopilot, D had gotten up, slopped himself through a shower and was now bent over the sink, wet hair slicked back with fingers, not a comb, wearing a pair of black boxer briefs, his toothbrush in his mouth.

  Regardless of the shower, his blue eyes were dazed and vacant.

  He had not yet been caffeinated.

  This was his habit. Done by rote. If it wasn’t the weekend, he got the getting ready shit done so he could focus entirely, dressed and good to go, on caffeine before he got behind the wheel of a car.

  His gaze lifted groggily to Maddox as Maddox moved in with the mug.

  Mad was also showered, his hair drying. He’d put on his briefs and jeans, but hadn’t yet pulled on one of the branded polos he wore to work every day.

  Which was probably why D’s eyes dropped to his chest.

  They went instantly to the mug as Maddox slid it on the counter beside the basin and it lay testimony to the depth of D’s morning haze that he didn’t looked shocked, seeing as Maddox had never brought him a mug of coffee after his shower their entire relationship.

  He wasn’t going to make a habit of it.

  But that morning, he was on a mission.

  He leaned the side of his hip against the counter, crossed his arms on his chest and watched as D spit, rinsed, splashed some water on his face then ran the long fingers of his big hands through his hair, slicking it back again.

  When he wiped his face with a towel and started to straighten away, his attention on the mug of coffee, Maddox made his move.

  He shifted in, murmuring, “Mornin’, bud,” his hand to D’s tight abs, his intention through the trajectory of his mouth clear.

  D reared back.

  And Mad was ready.

  He shot an arm out.

  He knew he was taking advantage, D up, awake, showered, but still a total zombie.

  After last night, he didn’t give a fuck.

  Last night, they’d jumped great bounds in their relationship, at Diesel’s instigation.

  D could make love to Maddox.

  But in doing it, he never kissed him.

  Playing the game for Diesel, Maddox could get permission from Molly to kiss D but D never asked for the same, or took it.

  Last night, whatever was fucking with Diesel’s head had led him there, to making love to Maddox, to climaxing with him while their mouths were connected.

  And that was the right path to be on.

  So if Maddox had shit to do with it, and he did, they were not straying off that path.

  Not again.

  This was going to become habit.

  He was going to get all of Diesel, give Molly all of Diesel.

  And if D didn’t give it, Maddox was going to take it.

  So if Maddox wanted a good morning kiss from his boy, he was going to take that too.

  Catching Diesel hard at the back of his neck, he yanked his man to him and crushed his mouth down on Mad’s.

  He thrust his tongue inside.

  Sleep, toothpaste and Diesel.

  He had tasted a lot of goodness in his life, but that right there ranked with the ones at the top.

  He shifted closer to him.

  Diesel’s tongue started to stroke his and Maddox felt warmth build in his stomach right before D went tight, putting pressure on to pull away.

  Maddox put pressure on to hold him there.

  So D jerked away, breaking the connection of their lips, if not the hold Maddox had on his neck.

  Maddox yanked him back, face to face, eye to eye.

  D froze, turning his head slightly so Mad couldn’t get to his mouth, muttering, “Brother.”

  Maddox lifted his other hand and slid it up to his lat.

  Before he could strengthen the hold, both D’s hands came to Maddox’s chest and he shoved, forcing Maddox back two steps.

  They stood there, D breathing hard, his eyes now alert, wary, his body tense.

  Maddox gave him a beat.

  But just a beat.

  Because he’d fucked around with this for four years.

  And now there would be no . . .

  Going . . .

  Back.

  He went at him, frontal attack, pressing Diesel against the basin, fisting a hand in
his hair, pulling his mouth down to Mad’s.

  He was able to trace the tip of his tongue along the crease of D’s lips before Diesel lurched back, arcing over the bathroom counter to get away.

  Maddox was ready for him and held onto his hair at the same time he clamped an arm around his back, locking them together, chest to chest.

  Diesel’s eyes flared and then Maddox was pushed backward and slammed against the wall.

  Right.

  They were going to do this?

  He’d do this.

  “Don’t got a good morning kiss for your man?” Maddox taunted.

  “Fuck you,” Diesel hissed.

  “Fight it, yeah, brother, fight it,” Maddox invited.

  “Fuck you,” Diesel bit, straining at Maddox’s hold at the same time pushing him into the wall.

  “You want me to win,” Maddox pointed out. “You always want me to win.”

  “Fuck . . . you,” Diesel spat.

  Maddox moved in, biting D’s lower lip like he did the night before, and in Diesel’s moment of stillness at the pain, Mad took advantage, thrusting his tongue inside, holding tight to that hair, crushing D’s lips down on his in a bruising hold.

  D jerked them both away from the wall and then back into it so forcefully it felt like the wall shook, doing this to loosen Maddox’s grip on him.

  It didn’t work.

  But still, Maddox let go the hold on Diesel’s back, only to immediately go in at the front, past the elastic, grabbing hold of D’s dick, which was hard as granite.

  Yeah.

  He wanted Maddox to win.

  He coaxed Diesel’s tongue in position and sucked it into his mouth.

  And then . . .

  The fight just left him.

  Gone.

  Diesel groaned, pulsing into Mad’s fist and stroking into Mad’s mouth.

  Yeah.

  Maddox pushed off the wall, taking Diesel across the room, and they hit the counter of the basin.

  Fucking Mad’s mouth with his tongue, D pressed into him, and Christ, the man could kiss. Always could. Maddox felt that tongue everywhere.

  Still going at his mouth, Diesel forced his hands to Maddox’s chest, pressing mightily as Mad strained to stay close, and the minute he got a wedge of space, Diesel broke the kiss.

  Maddox tensed to go back at him.

  But Diesel shifted his big body around, his arm brushing Maddox’s chest in the limited space, doing this hooking his thumbs into his underpants.