Luscious Beginnings [Love in Luscious, Kansas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove)

by Mia Ashlinn

  “Well”—Ethan paused to slam his foot on the accelerator—“it looks like he’s about to find out.” Then he drove like a bat out of hell through the Kansas night.

  Chapter 12

  Three weeks. Three motherfucking weeks. The longest damn weeks of my life. And I get so close to Ethan I can taste him. Then what happens? A big, fat nothing.

  Aggravated, Sam exhaled in frustration as he fell backward onto his bed. The cushy mattress caught him but didn’t slow his body’s rebound. He bounced up before dropping down again. Finally, he settled spread-eagle on top of the fluffy duvet.

  Today was supposed to be the day. According to Brooklyn, a magical something would occur before the night was out, a life-altering event that would leave him a changed man. But had it happened yet? No. Had he come close? Yes, he had—earlier, when he and Ethan nearly kissed. That would have been magical and life-altering. But no, the kiss had never happened. And now, he was alone, and it was already…Shit, what time is it?

  Sam lifted his unusually heavy arm and checked the time. Nine thirty-one p.m. He had another two hours and twenty-nine minutes before the night turned into the next day. Considering Ethan and Brett had gone back to the Paisley House already, Sam doubted anything was going to happen.

  Sam rolled his eyes at his own gullibility. What had he expected? A bolt of lightning to strike them? Cupid to come down from the skies and shoot them with his precious love arrows? Or hell, their drinks getting spiked with a Truth Serum? He snorted. What an idiot, he was. Psychics could get their predictions wrong, even one as talented as Brooklyn.

  With an irritated huff, Sam snatched the remote control to the flat screen off the pillow he’d left it on earlier. He turned on the television sitting on top of his dresser then started scrolling through the channels. Once he’d run through every channel—twice—he flipped the television right back off and tossed the remote aside.

  Damn it. Why couldn’t he find something to hold his interest for more than five seconds? Because I need to get laid. That’s why.

  Since Brett and Ethan had returned, Sam walked around with a damn squirrel in his pants. He was hot, hard, and ready all the time. And tonight had been the worst. As they’d lounged on the couch, sitting too close for his roaring libido, eating popcorn, and watching the latest episode of The Voice on Hulu, Sam had to sit on his free hand to keep from rubbing his crotch or at the very least, adjusting it. The feel of his erection pressing against the zipper hadn’t been a pleasant one.

  Now he was by himself, and his dick was still battling his zipper. The damn thing needed released. And relieved. A smirk lit his face. He could release it, and he could relieve it. Yes, he most definitely could. And he knew what to do to help him along. Even better, he had the means to do it this very second. So what the hell was he waiting for?

  Sam rolled over onto his stomach and stretched his body across the mattress as he reached for the drawer in his nightstand. Wiggling the door open, he pulled out a copy of his favorite porn flick When Harry Met Sally’s Brothers and a bottle of lube. In a rush, he stuffed the lube beneath the pillow. With a kiss to the movie case, he hopped up and darted over to the DVD player. He popped that sucker in before returning to the bed.

  Once again, he dropped onto the mattress then grabbed the remote. He pressed a couple of buttons. And eureka! The opening credits appeared on the television screen. After that, the show began.

  Using his legs to propel himself up the bed, Sam couldn’t take his eyes off the three men getting naked. He admired their buff bodies while he settled his back against the padded headboard and stretched his long legs in front of him. Getting comfortable, he listened to the sound of the men’s sinfully wet kisses, and he smiled. That was one thing he loved about gay porn. The men kissed, and they kissed well.

  Yeah. You like that, don’t you? And that was the other thing he loved about gay porn—the men talked to each other rather than moaning like some screeching cat in heat. Their words, their deep voices, were sexy as hell.

  Fuck me. Fuck me. Come on. Fuck me harder.

  Sam considered muting the sound. But he figured it was silly. Tate wouldn’t give a shit if he was watching porn. Hell, he’d probably bring him a box of Mike and Ikes and a soda to wash the candy down with. Besides, his roommate was on his way out anyway. He had some big plans with his best friend, Haven. So rather than turning down the volume, he listened to the men fucking, the sinful noise like music to his ears.

  Oh yesss. I’m going to come.

  Sam bit back his grin. Porn was cheesy. But damn, it was hot. And it was getting hotter by the second. Feeling overheated, Sam reached for the bottom of his T-shirt. Without preliminaries, he ripped his shirt over his head and flung it off the bed. Then he went for his jean fly. In a hurry, he fumbled with the button then jerked down his zipper. And a second later, he had his dick out of his pants and firmly in his hand.

  Without hesitating, Sam swiftly started stroking himself. He raked his hand up and down the length of his shaft with a voracity that both astounded and aroused him. Root to tip, he moved. His quick sweeps were steady, his glides confident. His hand was strong and his hold unyielding.

  Sam pumped his cock in time with the man being fucked on the screen. He hissed, “Holy shit,” as he felt the ecstasy begin to simmer in his balls. One drag of his hand after another had his temperature escalating, his fever flying higher and higher, until the pleasure boiled over and spilled out, spreading through his engorged flesh in a mind-blowing flash of heat.

  Seized by lust, Sam moaned. His muscles coiled, winding so tightly and so fiercely he feared he would break from the strain. His dick pulsated, the stalk growing into a massive entity.

  As arousal clutched him in its blissful claws, he knew he was mere seconds from blowing. But just when he reached the precipice, a knock came from the door, the sound hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water to the face. Oh shit.

  “Just a minute,” he croaked, rushing to stuff his cock back in his pants. When the damn thing wouldn’t return to its cage, he grabbed the nearest pillow and covered his lower body then dove for the remote. But he wasn’t fast enough. His door flew open and revealed Brett. A second later, Ethan appeared behind him. Both men’s expressions were indiscernible. Their bodies, however, were not.

  Brett was tensed like a predatory beast preparing to pounce on his prey. His muscles were noticeably strained. Next to him, Ethan stood with his eyes glued to Sam’s bare chest. His green eyes reflected hunger, a ravenousness most people would starve from. He licked his lips, the pink tip of his tongue peeking out then going back into hiding. “Well, what do we have here?” he asked as his attention drifted away from Sam and traveled to the television.

  Sam watched Ethan study the television with intent eyes. His gaze was sharp and assessing as he observed one man pounding another while a third played voyeur, all the while jerking his monstrous dick off. Yet Ethan’s discerning eyes betrayed him. The green depths were vivid, alive with his arousal.

  Swallowing nervously, Sam stammered, “I−I−I’m, um, watching—”

  “Porn,” Brett interjected. “And the good kind, too.”

  Oh my God. Could this get any more embarrassing? A mortified blush crept into Sam’s cheeks. “Uh.” That was all he could think of to say. Yep, it could get more embarrassing.

  Ethan didn’t ask, and he didn’t wait for an invitation. He pushed past Brett and strolled right in, his hips swaying sensually as he moved. “Now why couldn’t we have watched this instead of The Voice?”

  Sam’s lips pulled down into a frown. Why? Hello? Who watched porn with their friends? Well, other than righteously perverted people.

  While Brett remained in the doorway, Ethan crawled onto the bed with Sam. “I would have much preferred this.”

  Ethan’s nearness caused a spark to ignite in Sam’s heart, sending it into overdrive. As Ethan drew closer, fire spread through Sam’s veins in a violent inferno of flames. With his scorching-hot blood
pumping into his lungs, breathing was difficult. He felt stifled, suffocated. His chest was heavy, and he expelled short, choppy breaths.

  After what felt like an eternity, Ethan settled next to Sam. “The Voice has nothing on this stuff. I’ll take moans and groans over melodies and harmonies any day of the week, even Sindays.” Wicked humor glinted in his mesmerizing eyes. “I mean Sundays.”

  Sam laughed. But he sounded more choked than amused. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he mumbled.

  “You do that,” Brett replied. Like Ethan, Brett didn’t ask for permission to come in Sam’s bedroom. He simply moved inside then crossed the room. His steps were stealthy, his strides far-reaching. His entire body emanated arrogance, and he had the smile of a beast who knew his prey had no chance of escape.

  As the mammoth man invaded the other side of the bed, Sam couldn’t stop staring at him. His gaze clung to his best friend’s tantalizing face. The strength of Brett’s features, those seductive dark eyes, were too much, and heat swelled inside Sam. Drops of moisture oozed from his pores, the sweat gathering on his skin. Without thinking, he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead wiping away the perspiration beading there.

  When Brett came to rest by Sam, he sat close. Their entire bodies were touching. From shoulder to pinkie toes, Sam could feel Brett, and his cock responded eagerly beneath the pillow. He shifted his hip then situated the pillow, going so far as fluffing the damn thing, in a desperate attempt to hide his erection. But Sam wasn’t successful. And Ethan chuckled. “Having a hard time?”

  Sam swung his head to face Ethan. Then he deliberately dropped his gaze to Ethan’s crotch. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a hard time.”

  “Now, boys,” Brett murmured. “We’re supposed to be watching porn, not giving each other a hard time.”

  Holding Sam’s eyes captive, Ethan said to Brett, “I’m not giving anyone a hard time—yet.”

  Ethan’s words created havoc with Sam’s pulse. The rhythmic thud transformed, the cadence growing erratic. And the speed ramped up until he lost his breath momentarily. Once he was able to breathe normally—as normally as was possible anyway—Sam asked, “Promise?” When Sam spoke, he didn’t think about the consequences. He didn’t care what eventually came. Right now, he needed to know the answer. He wanted to live in the moment.

  Grinning, Ethan tipped Sam’s chin up with his finger. He stared straight into his eyes and vowed. “I promise.”

  Sam’s breath hitched. Restlessly, he clasped his hands on top of the pillow then rested them there.

  Brett covered Sam’s hand possessively. “Me, too.”

  Sam’s hand itched to flip over and hold Brett’s in a gesture of unity. Just like his lips ached to take Ethan’s. But he denied himself both pleasures—for now.

  Ethan ran his finger along Sam’s bottom lip. “And you know how I feel about promises.”

  Sam did. Ethan never made a promise he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—keep. Neither did Brett. They were too honorable for something so crass.

  “Yes, I do.” Unintentionally, Sam licked his dry lips. But Ethan’s finger was in the way, and he ended up licking more of Ethan than he did of his lips.

  Ethan groaned, the deep sound carrying over the porn still playing on the television. “If you keep that up, no more porn for you tonight.”

  “And that’s bad because?” Sam’s words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  “Because porn is an excellent form of foreplay,” Brett answered as he squeezed Sam’s hand.

  Good point.

  Ethan’s lips tipped up into a devilish smile. “Well, we would actually have to watch it first, Brett.”

  Another good point.

  “Then watch it, E.”

  Brett spoke to Ethan. But he stroked Sam’s hand as he did. The feel of Brett’s callused fingertips against the back of his hand was delicious. His friend’s touch sent a bolt of electrical current skittering up his arm, and he sighed. “I’m game if you are, angel boy.”

  Ethan leaned forward and brushed Sam’s lips with his own. The surprise kiss was no more than a fleeting sweep of his mouth. Still, he left Sam weak and shivering. “I’m not going to complain. Porn and my two favorite men? Sounds like a fucking good time to me.”

  It did to Sam, too.

  * * * *

  By the time the final credits rolled across Sam’s flat screen, Ethan was ready to explode. And his poor cock wasn’t much better. The damn thing was nearing the point of detonation. He’d barely survived that last scene. It had been all he could do to keep his hands to himself while he’d watched yet another ménage—the third one in a fucking row. Even then, he’d struggled to not take his cock in hand and stroke the shaft until he came all over the bed.

  Knowing Brett and Sam were sitting on the bed with him didn’t abate his need to masturbate. The only thing that had kept him from jerking off was he didn’t want to get off without being deep inside Brett or Sam. He wanted to come buried in them so far they wouldn’t be able to tell where they ended and he began.

  And if I have my way, that’ll be coming very, very soon.

  Ethan chuckled at his lame pun. Beside him, Brett and Sam stared at him, wearing identical expressions of confusion. “What?” Ethan asked. “Can’t a guy laugh?”

  Sam’s eyes caught Ethan’s, and he couldn’t break the connection even if he’d actually wanted to. “Not when no one is talking. It makes them look like a nutjob.” A mischievous smile played at each corner of his lips. “Wait. You are a nutjob. Feel free to laugh away.”

  Ethan’s eyes fell to Sam’s lips. His mouth was compelled to claim those laughing lips, to kiss them with the passion he’d pent up for years. “I feel like doing something, but I can promise you it has nothing to do with laughing.”

  Brett chuckled. His laugh was dark, edgy. And an air of danger swirled in his eyes. “Are you ready to make good on your promise, E?” His voice deepened when he whispered, “I know I am.” The husky timbre of Brett’s voice was heavy and thick, and it sent a shiver down Ethan’s spine.

  Ready? Ethan was past ready. Hell, he’d sped beyond ready through set and blown by go half an hour ago. At this point, he was racing around the track, waiting for the others to catch up. Vroom, vroom, boys.

  Being funny, Ethan stretched his right arm up and over his head then snuck it around Sam’s shoulder like a teenager making a move on his first date. “Well then, boys, let’s go.”

  Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Not very romantic, angel boy.”

  “Who said my forte was romance?” Ethan planted a sheepish grin on his face. “That’s Brett’s area of expertise. I’m the good-time guy.”

  Brett snorted.

  At the same time, Sam batted his eyelashes playfully. “But, honey, everyone needs a little romance before they give it up for the first time.”

  Predictably, Brett jumped in on the action. “Yeah, E. You wouldn’t want us to feel like a sleazy one-night stand, would you?”

  “You two are anything but a one-night stand,” Ethan replied, his voice hoarse from the honesty he willingly laid bare. Then to break the sudden tension, he cracked a joke. “I’m thinking three nights should do it.”

  Sam elbowed Ethan. “And here I thought you were going to be sweet and sappy.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Brett retorted. His voice held no malice, just amusement.

  “Do you really want me to be lovey-dovey? I can be—for the two of you.” Ethan allowed a wicked grin to lift his lips. “Or we could do something a little more entertaining.”

  “Like what?” Sam winked. “Play backgammon? Work a crossword puzzle?”

  Brett chuckled. “How about we memorize all fifty states in alphabetical order? That sounds like loads of fun.”

  Ethan lifted his eyebrows. “Loads of fun, huh? I can show you loads of fun.” And loads and loads and several more loads after that.

  “I wish you would,” Brett replied.

&nbs
p; But what Sam said next drowned out everything around Ethan and drove all his thought from his head. “Why don’t you both shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

  * * * *

  Brett’s jaw dropped at the demand in Sam’s voice. His soon-to-be lover had some serious balls speaking to him and Ethan in that tone, especially Ethan. He was not going to be pleased. He tended to lean toward the dominant side when it came to fucking. Brett had learned years ago to let him stay there—when he wanted to be. It was easier and far more pleasurable.

  “How about you put your money where your smart mouth is?” Ethan’s voice held a note of teasing. But the strained expression he wore was at odds with his jesting.

  Sam must have sensed Ethan’s abrupt change because he twisted his upper body and brushed his bare chest up against Ethan’s. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

  Ethan’s nostrils flared out. His face hardened from unmistakable arousal, not anger. “You kiss me this time.”

  Brett expected Sam to listen. He didn’t. “Kiss me, Ethan. I’ve dreamed of you and Brett kissing me, really kissing me. But not like earlier. I want you both to take control and kiss me like you mean it.” Sam ran his tongue across his lower lip slowly, deliberately. “Next time I’ll kiss you. Next time I’ll take control. I promise. Just not this time. Please.”

  A fire lit in Ethan’s glassy green eyes. And he seized Sam’s lips.

  Brett grabbed a couple of pillows from behind him then spun around so he had a better view of Sam and Ethan. He tossed the pillows down onto the mattress and reclined back against them. As he relaxed, he admired Ethan and Sam’s kiss. Their lips were fascinating. The way their mouths moved together like the most sensual of dances, an erotic tango for two that sizzled with enough heat to sear Brett’s already overheated skin. And their tongues, fuck, Brett could see their tongues coming out and dueling. They twisted them one way then tangled them together before twirling them to the other. Continuously, they twined their tongues, not once did they slow—just hot, hard, and fast-paced.