Coming Clean

by Inez Kelley

  He’d kidded Grant about the shower, calling it a hedonistic extravagance when he’d designed the damn thing with wall-to-wall dark gray slate and dual overhead cascading heads. He tilted his head back and let the water flow over him. The torrents that rained down were like erotic fingerless caresses. After grabbing a bottle of shampoo off the ledge, he soaped his hair, wondering if Grant was going to join him or if he’d changed his mind. The hand that slid up his back tightened his stomach.

  “This okay?” Grant murmured, stroking his shoulders and spine. The strong fragrance of soap filled the enclosure, and slick fingers glided across his skin.

  “Yeah.” His voice cracked like a prepubescent boy.

  It was more than okay. It was a feast of sensations—of soft soap, hard hands and hot water. Hotter anticipation roiled through him. Ten seconds ago, he’d thought the shower was huge. Now it seemed too small, pressing Grant closer behind him. He gritted his teeth, refusing to turn around and hold Grant against that slate wall, sucking every inch of his body.

  Slow. Slow. Slow.

  Filling some weird looking sponge-thing with the creamy liquid soap, Cade tried to concentrate on washing, on letting Grant get used to being nude this close to him. His erection ached with need, and he couldn’t resist a few lathered pulls along his shaft but wished it was Grant’s hand, not his own. Strong fingers massaged with confident soapy strokes but never moved from his nape, shoulders and upper arms. Cade wanted those hands all over but fought the need.

  Until Grant stepped closer.

  The unintentional nudge of his hard cock into Cade’s hip obliterated his control. He quickly rinsed the suds from his hair then turned and tugged Grant into a blistering kiss. Grant eagerly responded, diving his tongue deep and humming in want. The rich sound bounced off the wet walls, channeling lust straight into Cade’s belly. Trapped between them, their cocks rubbed and slid in sensual friction. Grant stilled with a gasp.

  He pulled from the kiss, letting his gaze drift down. Cade could appreciate the sight. Grant’s broad cockhead was darker next to his but no less swollen. Even under the water, a thick bead of pearly liquid leaked from the tip. Steam swirled around them with tropical humidity. Primal urges flared with red-hot intensity. Cade filled his palm with slick soap then boldly gripped Grant’s hard cock.

  Grant’s eyes slammed closed and a grunted exhale carried the sharp tang of bourbon. Leisurely working one hand along the thick length, Cade used his free hand to cup Grant’s silky sac. Hard fingers bit into his biceps but a hesitant rocking rhythm pushed Grant deeper into his hold. Flesh grew harder under slippery soap bubbles, and Cade’s own cock jerked in selfish want.

  “Touch me, Grant, please.”

  There was no timidity in the response. Grant swiped his palm down a foamy trail then curled his coated hand around the base of Cade’s cock. Of course, this didn’t frighten him. This they had done before, long ago in Cade’s living room, watching his older brother’s stolen video. But this was also different. They were no longer virgin boys experimenting. They were grown men who knew exactly how they liked to be touched. Cade covered Grant’s hand with his own, tightening the hold. Grant added the twisting motion on his own and it curled Cade’s toes into the hard slate.

  He must have made some sound, some involuntary reaction, because Grant jerked his head up, a cocky grin lifting to corners of his lips. His strokes got bolder, more commanding, confident, until Cade couldn’t catch the moan that fell from his tongue. Grant’s mouth caught it, licking it from his mouth and giving it back to him. Cade pulled his hands up and kneaded the hard muscles along Grant’s back.

  A fine quiver in Grant’s voice hinted at his nerves. “Was that all right?”

  “Perfect.” Cade nipped his chin, nuzzling under his jaw to drag his tongue to a scruffy Adam’s apple. The whiskers were jagged and sharp under his lips, scratching with a sensual bite. “Tell me about Viv, what does she like?”

  Grant canted his head, giving him more access. “Oral. She loves to come on my tongue.”

  “Can I go down on her? Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes.” If possible, Grant’s cock got harder with that whispered permission. “She waxes, so her pussy’s slick and smooth. Make her come with your mouth first, then she can come easier from fucking. On a good night, she can orgasm three times to my one.”

  “Lucky woman,” Cade laughed against Grant’s skin.

  “Yeah, no shit. I guess it makes up for her being a Midol-aholic five days a month.”

  “Yet another reason men are superior to women.”

  Grant threw back his head and laughed. “No wonder you’re divorced. Vivi’d kick my ass if I said something like that.”

  The humor felt as good as the teasing touches along his nuts. All the nervous tension was gone from Grant’s frame. He wasn’t thinking about doing, he was acting naturally, without self-consciousness or fear. Barriers had fallen away and they were touching, caressing and kissing without urgency. The kissing was new to them, heady and intoxicating, but nature could not be denied.

  Grant’s cock was hotter than the water and as hard as the tile. The pulse of a vein throbbed against Cade’s grip. Grant’s heavy balls seemed almost delicate next to the firm shaft. Cade rolled them, enjoying the play of hard and soft, rigid and pliable. Lust sank sharp teeth into him, and he abandoned all thought of waiting for permission. He was no Dom but he was far from submissive. He went after what he hungered for, pushing Grant’s shoulders back against the wall.

  One long, scorching, mind-numbing kiss tangled their tongues. Grant cupped his jaw but Cade stepped away. He reveled in the freedom to touch and explore and allowed his fingers to glide over Grant’s wet skin without pause. Flat dark nipples puckered beneath his touch, and he circled each one, watching them tighten and bud. Beneath the light sprinkling of ebony hair directly above his heart, Vivian was tattooed in dark red. Cade knew about the tat, had gone with Grant to get it, but he’d never touched it. He found the flow of each character fascinating and traced each one, first with a finger and then a tongue. Grant shivered through each letter.

  Cade followed one water droplet with his fingertip, tracing the jagged trek down Grant’s side, along his hip to his thigh. In slow, deliberate moves, he mimicked the route with his mouth. Grant’s chest heaved as he realized where Cade was headed.

  “Oh God.”

  “Is that a no?” Kneeling, Cade looked up and nearly fell to his ass in amazement. He’d never seen longing written so clearly on anyone’s face. Grant’s eyes were huge and dark, and burned with an internal fire. Spots of color darkened his cheeks. His mouth hung open, his gasping breaths loud even over the torrential showerheads. He reached out with a trembling hand, stroking Cade’s wet hair with a new lover’s caress.

  “I’m not saying no. I’m saying…just nervous.”

  “You’ve had blowjobs before, Grant. This is no different.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’ve nev—”

  “I know you’ve never been with a man.”

  “No,” Grant barked. “I’ve never been with you.” He looked up at the darkened skylight and sighed. “I’m so turned on right now. I’m afraid I’ll pop like a sixteen-year-old, too fast to really enjoy it.”

  The force of Cade’s smile ached on his cheeks. He laid his brow along Grant’s hipbone and struggled to slow his racing heart. “You’re not sixteen, I know what I’m doing and trust me, I’ll make damn sure you enjoy it.”

  Cade pulled every trick and bit of skill from his past. He started gently, teasing, licking and kissing along the tops of Grant’s thighs, letting his breath blow over the taut skin. He licked Grant’s balls until they grew tight, closer to his body. When Grant’s fingers fisted in his wet hair, then and only then did he close his lips over the wide head. A harsh hiss tore through the shower then softened to a low moan. His pulse rate skyrocketed at the silky skin and solid shaft in his mouth. Cade swirled his tongue around the crown, dipping into the tiny slit, tasti
ng the salty pre-come that never ceased.

  Grant was not a small man. His cock jutted thick and proud from a thin patch of dark hair. Strong veins lined the surface, and Cade savored the beat on his tongue. He wanted to show off, he could admit it. Years ago, Grant had confided that Vivi tried but she couldn’t swallow all of him. No one ever had. Cade was going to if it killed him. He wanted Grant to look back on this night as something unique and exceptional. He wanted to be special in a way Vivi never would. Selfish as it was, he accepted that flaw.

  He took a deep breath then relaxed every muscle in his throat, stretching his mouth as wide as he could and letting the rigid cock slide deep. Grant whispered his name in an awed breath. Power rushed over Cade. The full control he had at this minute was as dizzying in its effect as any liquor. Drunk on dominance, when he’d taken all he could, he pushed forward, fighting his gag reflex.

  “Holy fuck!” Grant bucked once, his fingers gripping Cade’s hair so hard it brought tears to his eyes.

  He’d done it, and his accomplishment filled him with primal gloating. He forced his retreat to a slow glide. His achievement was gigantic but he knew he couldn’t do that too much and still talk later, so he settled into a steady rhythm of suck and stroke. The deep reverberating moans echoing over the rushing water fueled his hunger.

  Most of the soap had rinsed away but a small stream of frothy bubbles clung to the hair on Grant’s calf. Cade scooped the slick trail with his fingers then reached between Grant’s thighs, behind his balls. He stroked the hot, damp perineum, inching higher with each touch. He expected Grant to freeze when he touched his asshole but he didn’t. Encouraged, he caressed the tight opening. Grant widened his stance.

  Smiling around the cock in his mouth, Cade nearly chuckled. Grant was more open-minded than he expected, and he counted that as a blessing. He pressed the tip of one finger steadily forward into tight heat. Grant’s stomach trembled but he didn’t tense or shy away. Cade made it to the second knuckle before Grant jerked.

  “Cade.” Cade froze at the shaky whisper. Regret edged his mind until Grant panted, “Don’t stop. I’m going to come.”

  Cade didn’t stop, he doubled his intention, sucking with a specific goal. Grant stiffened and thrust. His orgasm enthralled Cade from every twitching muscle to the pulse on his lips. It was a thing of beauty and of triumph. The hoarse cry he’d heard drifting in the open cabin window now carried his name. The tender impact hit his soul the same instant thick, warm liquid hit his tongue. He greedily sucked in both.

  Grant sagged against the wall, his legs quaking. Cade wiped a fast hand across his mouth and stood. He expected Grant to be sated, heavy-eyed and drained. But those coffee eyes blazed with a smoldering ember. He didn’t pull away from Cade’s kiss or clamp his lips shut. Instead, he opened his mouth and groaned. Capturing Grant’s thick wrists before they touched him, Cade stopped him reciprocating in any way with a slow headshake.

  The move slashed a furrow in Grant’s forehead. “Why not? If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” He tugged free of the light hold and determination etched along his jaw. “Maybe I won’t be any good at it, but let me try.”

  Just the fact that Grant wanted it jabbed into Cade’s heart. A fierce wave of yearning churned with a softness he hadn’t expected, and he nearly gave in to his body’s demand for release. Only the flash of gold from Grant’s wedding band kept him strong. He stroked Grant’s wet face, wonder making his touch light and reverent.

  “It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. God, I want to feel your mouth on me so bad. My nuts are aching to shoot. But I like the burn of wanting, knowing it’s going to happen, drawing it out. Viv’ll be back soon and we can play together.”

  Confusion and indecision deepened the groove between Grant’s eyebrows. “Was this just a way to get to Vivi through me?”

  They were friends long before they were lovers, and Cade reacted in a best-friend manner. He slammed Grant’s back against the wall. “No, you asshole. Even if you take her out of the picture, tonight has been…For fuck’s sake, Grant, you said it yourself. It’s time we owned up. Well, I’m owning this. I want more than quick suck or fuck with you but you’re married. I’m a plaything for you two. So let me have a few hours knowing you want me like I’ve wanted you for years.”

  Vivi Gets Her Fantasy

  Vivi sat in the car staring at the backyard. The torches were out, the record player gone and grill covered. Yet she could still hear the strains of the tango pulsing in her mind, feel Cade’s body tight against hers, the incredible heat of his mouth hovering over hers.

  She ran a shaking hand down her face. Grant had watched them, his eyes never dropping from their dance. At first, she’d been wrapped up in the moves, the intricacy of the steps, the flush of remembered rhythms and beats. Then she’d seen Grant. Every line in his body had been a classic portrait in relaxation but she knew him too well. She could read the intensity of his stare, the lust wafting from him. He was getting turned on watching her and Cade and, God help her, she’d used it. She’d upped the level of intimacy just to see her husband’s reaction. Blood stirred by music and fed by Cade’s touch had gathered power from Grant’s voyeurism.

  Then it hit her. Grant wasn’t watching her, he was watching Cade.

  She’d known for years that Cade was bisexual. Grant wasn’t but he had something, some indescribable attraction to Cade, that defied definition—or maybe it was plain old love. The few times she and Grant had watched porn together, he had responded to the buxom women, not the well-hung men. No, men didn’t turn him on.

  Cade turned him on.

  It didn’t diminish Grant’s masculinity in her eyes. If anything, it deepened her respect and admiration for him. He was still virile and strong, hard-cut and foul-mouthed at times. Every drop of his blood screamed man. But it also yearned for something she could never give him.

  Light from the garage bounced off her engagement ring, and she was thrust backward in time, to a memory she’d all but forgotten. The first year she and Grant dated, the three of them had been inseparable, going everywhere, doing everything as one, but there was no way she was going to a baseball game in July. Her redhead’s pale skin got pink at the mere thought of high summer sun. She gladly wished the men well and planned a girly spa day for herself.

  She got a blistering case of food poisoning instead.

  Praying for death and hugging a trashcan, she was shocked when Grant showed up with ginger ale and crackers.

  “You’re supposed to be at the game.”

  Grant wiped her forehead with a cool washcloth and shook his head. “Screw the game, you need me here.”

  “But what about Cade?”

  A soft smile curved his mouth. “Babe, he’s a big boy. He’ll be fine on his own. Someone has to take care of you.”

  “Go to the ballgame, Grant.” A wave of nausea hit her and she groaned.

  His warm hands massaged her shoulders, pushing her back onto the bed. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  He was. His low voice, soft as a jazz lullaby, pulled her from her weakened slumber. She cracked her eyes and found him whispering into the phone.

  “She’s sleeping. If I could get some more fluids in her, I’d feel better…Don’t know, I just hate seeing her hurt. Damn, Cade, this being-in-love shit makes you crazy. I want to track down that fucking hot dog vendor and beat his ass for doing this to her…I know, I got it bad…feels pretty good though.”

  Despite her rolling stomach, a smile had warmed her. Grant had been so excited over the third baseline tickets but he’d dropped everything and come running to her. He’d ditched the game and his best friend for her and never once complained. That was how things had always been. Cade was a major part of Grant’s life, a virtually inseparable part, but so was she. They all had a role and hers was just as important as Cade’s.

  They had always been a threesome, just without the sex.

  Music, and life in general, seemed based on a conce
pt of three, not two. The number of performers in a trio. There were three notes in a triad, the most important and basic form of any music chord. The tritone was the only interval that, when inverted, remained unaffected functionally and harmonically. The clearest musical chime came from the simplest but strongest form—and the only perfect geometric figure—the triangle.

  Cade, Grant and Vivian were a triangle. Three sides of equal strength, joined together.

  That thought soothed her nerves and calmed her jitters. She climbed from the car and started across the lawn, shaking her head and snorting at her own silly misgivings. Nothing ever had or ever would come between Grant and her. Their marriage was based on more than gold bands and shared property. It stood on a solid foundation of love.

  The roar of a recorded crowd greeted her when she walked in the back door. She saw the bourbon bottle on the counter and groaned. Grant was going to be a bear to wake at four-thirty if he had more than a couple shots. She dropped her keys on the marble island, shrugged her purse onto a chair and wandered into the den.

  The guys were engrossed in some game she couldn’t identify and didn’t try. Both had damp hair and were in clean jersey shorts and T-shirts, clearly ready for bed. Obviously there was no planned encounter tonight. Maybe at the lake, away from home base.

  Her skin itched with dried soap from the laundry trip. She pulled her ponytail holder out and rubbed her head while sitting on the arm of the couch. Grant had one foot propped on the coffee table. The edge of a bandage caught her eye.

  “What’d you do to your foot?”

  Grant never took his eyes off the screen. “Stepped on a screw. It’s nothing, barely hurts now.”

  “Did you wash it out?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced at Cade quickly. “I even put that antibiotic goop on it. Speaking of, I put the first aid kit in the suitcase.”