by Aly Martinez
Those hands were mine.
Yep. Those hands were caressing Jessica’s leg.
If it wouldn’t have been such a downer on what I hoped would be a very good evening, I would have shoved her out the door. Or, at the very least, pulled over and dropped her off in a well-lit parking lot, maybe even left Carter with her for safety purposes. I didn’t particularly have a preference on which way it happened; I just needed her to get the fuck away from him.
But no, I couldn’t do any of that. If I wanted those hands back on me, I had to figure out a way to have sex with her. And I assumed that would most likely require me to touch her naked body without gagging.
It appeared my bisexual ploy with Evan was backfiring on me big time.
He had already broached the topic of a threesome with her. I could tell by the blush of her cheeks as he’d whispered into her ear and then the way her eyes had slowly slid over to me.
There was no doubt that her answer was going to be yes. Evan was unbelievably sexy, and I was some kind of prize trophy for no other reason than the world had told her I was.
My fingers had been crossed that she was a prude who’d balk at the idea of premarital sex with just one man, much less two. But my heart sank when she’d enthusiastically nodded in my direction.
“Have another drink, doll,” I said, leaning forward to top off her glass of champagne.
She assumed my attention was a flirty gesture and seductively brushed her finger up my thigh.
Evan smiled.
I fought a cringe.
In reality, I was just trying to get her drunk. Not even Evan could argue the merits of seducing a drunk woman.
Blowing out a defeated breath, I settled back on my seat across from them, my gaze returning to his hand at her leg.
What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t a coward. I wasn’t confused about my sexuality. I wasn’t hard up or desperate. It would have only taken one sentence to end this whole charade: I’m not into women.
However, Evan’s words still rang in my ears. “I don’t do the gay thing.”
And really, I just wanted to do the Evan Roth thing. I wanted his hands on me again. And definitely his mouth. I wanted to peel his shirt off so I could finally get a good look at the muscles that covered his stomach…and his shoulders…and his chest. I wanted to feel his hard body pinning me into a mattress as his fingers threaded through my hair. I wanted to see his blue eyes staring into mine as he slowly pressed inside me.
Really, there was only one thing I didn’t want with Evan. And that was for a woman to be involved.
“Where’d you send Tabitha?” Jessica asked, swirling her champagne around in the flute.
“I gave her a private room and then had the hotel send a masseuse up to her. She’s probably assuming that I’ll be up later.” Because I told her I’d be up there later. I glanced at Evan. “I won’t.”
He winked, sending my stomach aflutter like a teenage boy watching Queer As Folk.
Jessica started kissing up his neck, and I quickly diverted my gaze. It wasn’t necessary to watch. I still felt every brush of her lips against his skin—in my gut.
“Henry,” Evan called.
Keeping my eyes aimed out the window, I replied, “Yeah.”
“I was just telling Jessica how we met.”
A laugh sprang from my throat. I absently lifted my champagne glass in a toast. “It’s a good story, Maverick.”
“Oh! Since you’re Maverick, can I be Goose?” She giggled.
My fingers spasmed around the glass as my patience with the whole situation evaporated.
Snapping my attention to her, I curled my lip as she slid a hand under the hem of his shirt. Those were my abs. And she was touching them.
Gritting my teeth, I leaned forward and pointedly whispered, “Goose dies, Jessica.”
“What the…” Evan said only to trail off.
And then that fucking lip of his twitched, telling me that he was onto me. I would have cared if I hadn’t been praying that he’d take note and end this bullshit with her—and then move his ass over to me so we could finish what we’d started earlier.
“She hasn’t done anything like this before. I figured knowing a little bit more about us would go a long way in making her comfortable,” he said.
And what about my comfort, Evan? What about the fact that I’ve never done anything like this before and have no fucking idea why I’m even considering it now?
I kept that to myself.
“Great idea,” I mumbled dismissively.
After throwing the rest of my drink back, I promptly poured another. We were at least ten minutes from the hotel and my chest was so filled with dread for when we arrived it I felt as though I were a death row inmate.
“Come here, Henry.” His tone was gentle, and if I closed my eyes, I could imagine it was just the two of us.
Keeping my gaze aimed at the floor, I moved to his side.
“I never would have taken you as the shy, nervous type,” he teased quietly.
I wasn’t shy or nervous. I was pissed the fuck off that the one person I wanted needed a woman involved in order to want me too.
His eyes found my mouth as our thighs pressed against each other. Heat radiated like a ball of fire from the point of contact. That was all it took with Evan. A simple brush of his leg and I was rock hard.
“I’ll be fine,” I replied. And I would be—as soon as she got the hell off him and gave me a turn.
A turn?
God, I seriously hate myself right now.
Refusing to look at her, I couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing. All that mattered was that his gaze was still intently aimed at my mouth. Was I allowed to kiss him? Why was I questioning if I was allowed to do anything? Oh, right—because we were playing his game now.
Fuck that.
I inched closer, brushing my lips across his in an almost kiss.
“Whoa,” she breathed, finally drawing my attention to hers. “How does this work? Do you two…like, make out and stuff too?”
“Would that bother you?” Evan asked.
I didn’t wait a single second to hear her reply. I hoped watching two men kiss would bother the fuck out of her. So much so that she would run like hell the moment we got to the hotel.
She gasped when my lips landed on his. His mouth opened with a growl. His hand finally left her leg and moved to the back of my head instead. I shifted, shoving her legs off his lap before swinging my own over to straddle his thigh. Most of my weight rested on my knee on the seat by his hip, but I carefully slid my other to the exposed seat at the junction between his legs. His cock immediately thickened at the contact.
Smiling against his mouth, I basked in the knowledge that he hadn’t already been hard.
Not for her.
Just me.
For all I knew, Jessica had jumped from the moving vehicle by that point. Because, as his tongue rolled against mine and his hands slipped under my shirt, unabashedly exploring my body, she was nothing more than an afterthought. Or, in my case, a neverthought.
But that’s when I felt her.
Her tits brushed against my arm and her lips found my neck. If I’d been forced at gunpoint to tell the absolute truth, I would have had to admit that it wasn’t terrible to have Evan’s tongue invading my mouth and her lips trailing up to my ear. However, it wasn’t good, either.
But, as I opened my eyes and prepared to shut her down, I realized it was totally worth the heebie-jeebies.
His mouth was still moving against mine, but his eyes were slitted, focusing on her lips at my neck. There wasn’t even a hint of enjoyment in his gaze. His forehead crinkled and the skin between his eyebrows pinched together. He hated watching her maul me, and the satisfaction that knowledge gave me was immeasurable.
Not so fun with the tables turned, now is it, Evan?
Smiling to myself, I tipped my head to the side, giving her more room just so I could witness his reaction. His lips came to a scree
ching halt. When her hand landed on my stomach, I recoiled, but it was worth every second because a deep growl rumbled in Evan’s chest.
Not a moan. Not a groan.
I’m talking a possessive, animalistic growl.
He used the back of her head to peel her off me, and then he deepened our connection. He painfully gripped my hip as his kiss became punishing. It hurt in ways that made me feel as though he were repairing me. Unable to stop, I guided a hand between us and popped the button on his jeans. He broke the kiss long enough to pant his permission, which I hadn’t asked for. And then I dipped one finger under his waistband and found the smooth, hard flesh at the head of his cock.
“Fuck, Henry.” He lifted his hips and begged for more, but that was as far as I got.
Jessica’s hand snaked down to join mine, reminding me once again that she was there. I roughly caught her wrist, halting her wandering fingers.
I fought the urge to snap at her and instead whispered, “Slow down, doll.” I then shot Evan a pointed glare, begging for him to put a stop to this.
He was lying to himself if he thought she was anything more than his safety net. He wanted her involved so he didn’t have to admit to himself that he really only wanted me. But, if actions spoke louder than words, he was screaming my name so loud we’d both end up deaf.
Her lips had been at his throat, but the only place his had traveled was against my mouth. He hadn’t even kissed her. And, besides his hand on her leg, he hadn’t advanced on her at all, either.
He held my pleading gaze for a few beats before releasing an audible sigh and saying, “I can’t do this.”
Shifting me off his lap, he slid across the seat, leaving me wide open for Jessica to misread the entire situation and swing a leg over to straddle me.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” I pressed myself back into the seat, frantically reaching out for Evan.
This was so fucked up. It was like a comedy of errors without the actual comedy. I was a gay man trying to seduce a straight man who thought I was bisexual while he tried to pretend he wasn’t interested in a gay man by requiring that we share a woman. Because that totally made it acceptable to dry-hump another man.
So.
Fucked.
Up.
I absolutely wanted Evan. I’d felt a connection with him earlier. One I would have given anything to explore further, but not by sacrificing a part of myself.
“Sorry, but this isn’t going to happen,” I told Jessica. I shifted my gaze to Evan. “I’m gay,” I told him. “Not bi. Just gay.” I laughed humorlessly. “I would do anything to be with you, Evan. But not this.”
His shoulders fell, and he raked a hand through his hair. I expected anger or frustration from him. I expected the spiral down, where he would yell at me to go fuck myself as he reiterated that he wasn’t gay. After that, I’d be forced to watch as he took Jessica and cashed in his tickets on the straight train.
“Henry…” he started.
“Don’t.” I waved him off, refusing to look at him again. I couldn’t bear witnessing the regret. Not from him.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, making me flinch.
I offered Jessica a sad smile. “Sorry, doll. Wrong equipment.” I lifted her off my lap, placed her on the seat, and then quickly made my escape to the other side of the limo.
Luckily, it wasn’t but a few awkward minutes until we came to a stop. Carter was in the front seat with my driver and didn’t even have a chance to fold his giant body out before I bolted.
In my mad dash, I’d forgotten that we were in L.A.—home of the paparazzi. They were lined up on the sidewalk, waiting for me. My stomach was already in knots. I had no bag. No room key. No cell phone. Nothing but my wallet and a face that would ensure I couldn’t even walk up to the front desk without being swarmed.
And my heart was breaking for reasons that made no fucking sense.
I needed to be alone.
Using my hands, I shielded my face from the blinding flashes.
“Carter!” I yelled.
The crowd enclosed around me, calling my name in a never ending round. This was the moment when I’d usually smile, sign autographs, pose for few photos, and then shoot the shit with the photogs I recognized. It was nothing new for me.
However, the panic attack creeping up on me absolutely was.
“Carter!” I yelled again, spinning in a circle. “Carter,” I choked out one last time before the oxygen ran out. Folding over, I rested my hands on my knees as photographers snapped countless pictures of my breakdown.
Suddenly, a strong arm linked with mine and started dragging me toward the entrance.
“Get the hell out of the way!” Evan yelled, pushing people from our path.
I wanted to snatch my arm away and tell him that I didn’t need his help.
I wanted to get my shit under control and take care of myself.
I wanted him to lead me through the chaos and then never leave.
Each was an equally worthless desire.
But with no other choice, I leaned into his side and allowed him to guide me through the clamoring crowd. Once we got into the hotel, he led me directly to the elevator. I briefly made eye contact with Carter just before the doors slid closed. Predictably, he was pissed, but I was too relieved to give a damn.
As the elevator carried us up, I remained folded over, doing my best to slow my breathing.
Evan’s heavy hand landed on my back and his breath breezed over my ear as he whispered, “Ten, nine, eight. One in, one out, okay?”
I silently nodded, and he continued.
“Seven, six, five.” He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Four, three, two, one.” He paused. “Shit…I fucked that up. Let’s start at five again. Five, four, three, two…”
The elevator dinged just as the word one cleared his lips.
He kept his hand connected to base of my neck as he guided me into the suite and over to the couch.
“Are you going to be okay? I need to go see if Jessica made it up to her room safely.”
Jessica.
I nodded.
After tossing a bottle of water next to me, he marched out the door.
It didn’t hurt.
Not even a little.
It killed.
I WAS THE world’s biggest dick. Because of my little threesome bullshit, Jessica was now alone somewhere, probably feeling completely rejected, and Henry was in the middle of a panic attack that rivaled any I’d witnessed from him over flying.
He’d lied to me about being bisexual, but I should have known better. The signs were all there. The way he’d stared at me while on stage, basically ignoring the women. The way he’d deflated when he’d walked in and seen me holding Jessica. The way he’d glared at her in the limo. The way we’d both forgotten she was supposed to be involved the moments our bodies had touched. Fuck.
I hadn’t been with a man since Shannon. Not one-on-one, at least. And especially not with one who unnerved me the way Henry did. Though, the minute we’d climbed into that limo with him, I’d wanted to ask her to leave. I hadn’t been able to think of anything except getting another taste of his mouth—and, if I’m being honest, every other part of his body.
I knocked on the door to room 9965, praying that I’d remembered the numbers correctly.
“Who is it?” Jessica called in a soft voice that made me feel even more like an asshole.
“It’s me. Evan.”
The door immediately opened. She was still in her shirt and her skirt, but she wasn’t wearing her shoes. It made her smaller than I’d remembered. Her makeup had worn off a good bit since the concert, and for the first time, I realized just how young she was underneath it all. Shit. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five. Probably fresh out of college and enjoying her first job in the real world.
And I had been about to fuck her just so I could feel better about fucking Henry.
God. I’m a prick.
“Hey, ” she said with
a smile.
“Hey.” I rocked to my toes and wedged a hand into my pocket.
She pulled the door open wide. “You want to come in?”
“I can’t. I just wanted to come down to apologize and make sure you made it to your room safely.”
She shyly crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah. The big guy walked me up when the coast was clear.”
“Good,” I whispered. “Listen, about that shit in the limo. I’m—”
She cut my apology off with a laugh. “It’s okay, Evan. I’d heard he was gay. It was more of a surprise when you said he wanted to mess around.”
“Yeah, but I still feel bad. I want you to know that we both think you’re incredibly beautiful and—”
“Evan, stop. You don’t have to do this. I’m not crying myself to sleep tonight because I’m not his type.” She shrugged. “Hey, I made it further than my snobby cousin, Tabitha, right? That’s a win in my book.”
I chuckled. “She really is a snob.”
We both laugh for a second before falling into an uncomfortable silence.
“Look, the threesome thing might not have worked out, but a twosome is still on the table.” Her eyes flashed to ground as her cheeks blushed.
I swallowed hard. “Jessica…I can’t. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. I get it. Can’t blame a girl for trying. But, if you change your mind, I’ll be here, drowning my sorrows in the entire room service dessert menu on Henry’s dime.” She smiled. “Anyway, go on and get out of here. Get back to your guy.”
I threw my hands up in defense. “Okay, slow down there. He’s not my guy.”
She rolled her eyes and propped her shoulder on the doorjamb. “I was there, Evan. Remember? If he isn’t your guy, I can promise he wants to be.”
Panic built in my chest, but I covered it with a hearty dose of laughter. “Maybe. But that’s not going to happen. Trust me.”
“Oh, come on. He’s Henry Alexander. At least let him take you on a world tour or buy you a Porsche or something.”
I laughed. “And, on that note, I’m headed to bed. I’m sorry about everything, but it was nice to meet you tonight.” I smiled, backing away from her door.