And Allen, having just had his whole fucking universe turned on its ear, could only lie there. And nod.
* * * *
Before collapsing in Allen’s arms, Sidri sent Tatum one last text.
“Be ready. We’ll be there ASAP.”
Chapter 14
Allen sat in the passenger seat of Sidri’s 1961 Datsun Fairlady Roadster, his knee shaking like a rabbit warning the warren of imminent predation.
He was nervous. Beyond nervous. Sidri was driving them home—her home—to meet up with Tatum. Tatum, whom he’d been informed, had been so impatient to see the both of them he’d commandeered a private jet in order to make the flight home thirty-six hours earlier than scheduled. After the events of yesterday and last night, Allen felt like millions of bees had been shoved under his skin, all buzzing incessantly while they waited for the opportunity to sting him to death.
It was, to say the least, uncomfortable.
Sidri released the gearshift, patted his knee affectionately. “Relax, baby. Trust me, Tatum is ten times more nervous than you are right now. It will be fine, I promise.”
Easy for her to say.
But he smiled, lacing their fingers together and bringing her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss before letting her get back to driving the manual transmission. The car was exquisite, one of only two hundred eighty-eight made in the US. She’d recently had it repainted a luscious shade of cerulean blue, with white and chrome accents and a cream-colored drop-top canopy. Next to his baby, her car was his absolute favorite. That she had such great taste in motor vehicles only made her that much more desirable in his eyes.
Then again, nothing she did would damage her in his eyes. Not after last night.
His mind was still a maelstrom. Too many things had happened, far too fast, for him to process it all coherently. But, there were a few facts he’d been able to pull from the rubble of his shattered foundations.
His father had lied to him. That was probably the biggest thing preying on his psyche at the moment. His father had lied to him—not only to him, but to thousands, millions, of people. Over and over again, he’d preached the depravity of homosexuality. Held up the Bible as the penultimate proof that God. Did. Not. Approve. And yet, after one conversation with a vivacious, smart, eminently logical woman, he knew for absolute certain that was not, in any way, shape, or form, actually true.
It hurt, coming to that realization. All these years, though he’d railed against his father’s teachings, even to the point of running away when he finally understood he would forever be a pariah in his father’s eyes, he’d still believed, deep down, that the man was right. Allen was depraved, a living crime against God’s choices for humanity. He’d hated it, cursed it, fought against it—and yet still believed it. To discover his entire emotional upbringing had been tainted by such a basic, unforgiving lie made him want to weep.
Allen was not evil. At least, not for the sin of being bisexual.
His other sins…well, those were of his own making.
Ripping his mind away from that shattering thought, Allen focused on the scenery outside the windshield. Though it was February, the capricious Texas weather had chosen to gift them with clear blue skies and seventy-degree temperatures. It might change in a day or an hour, but for the moment it was absolutely perfect weather outside.
Speaking of outside…
“I thought you said you lived in Katy,” Allen said, naming one of the more affluent suburbs that rode Houston’s western boundary like a wealthy, gun-toting limpet.
“We do,” she answered, a grin curling the corner of her mouth.
Allen frowned, checking the freeway signs ahead once more. “Shouldn’t we be on I-10 West? Why are we on 45 going north?”
Her smile bloomed instantly. She turned, looking at him over the bridge of her sunglasses. “Change of plans, baby. We’re kidnapping you.”
Allen laughed in spite of himself. “Oookay. What does that mean, exactly?”
Sidri shrugged, shifting gears as she eased the classic car through traffic. “Tatum and I own a house on Lake Conroe. There’s nobody there much this time of year, so we should have the place to ourselves. I made an executive decision to make you take the vacation you’ve so studiously avoided over the last two years.”
She glanced at him, grinning for all she was worth. “One of the perks of owning the company is telling your employees what to do, after all. You, me, and Tatum are going to spend the next two weeks sequestered in a gorgeous two-story lake house complete with covered patio, a hot tub, and, best of all, no interruptions. I imagine we’ll spend our time watching football, soaking in the hot tub, and fucking each other’s brains out.”
Allen’s jaw hit the pavement.
Sidri reached out and gently shut his mouth for him. Then she patted his knee again. “We’ll take care of you, baby. Enjoy the time off with us. If, at any time, you decide this isn’t going to work out, either Tatum or myself will drive you back home, no questions asked.”
She paused as traffic ahead of them slowed to a crawl, then looked at him with one eyebrow raised in inquiry. “Deal?”
He blinked. Blinked again. Then finally managed a strangled, “Deal,” as his cock turned to steel in his jeans.
This woman was going to be the death of him.
He spent the remainder of the ride north in silence, watching the city disappear in the rearview mirror. Two weeks alone with both of them. He had to admit, it really would be the best way to figure out if he could do this, if he could conquer his demons and be with the people he was coming to love more than life itself.
Well, he was pretty sure he was in love with Sidri already. With Tatum it was mostly lust. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t turn into something much, much greater.
The closer they got, the more nervous he became. Allen swallowed and searched for a topic to help him wrap his head around the arrangement Sidri was proposing.
“Tell me about you and Tatum,” he said lightly. She glanced at him, her smile inviting clarification. He cleared his throat. “How did you come to decide you wanted…you know, a threesome?”
Damn his inability to stop blushing whenever he said that godforsaken word.
Sidri bit her lip, thinking. “Experimentation,” she said at last, with a wicked little laugh. “I told you, we’re both Dominant. We knew that pretty quickly. But it took us a while to figure out we would never be enough for each other, that there would always be something missing between us.” She paused, and he reached over and laced their fingers together over the gearshift. She shot him a smoldering look.
To his immense gratification, she had to clear her throat before continuing. “So, we experimented. Often. And once we stumbled on the idea of participating in a threesome, the idea grew wings. But, it wasn’t until Hawaii that we figured out what we really, truly needed.”
“What’s that?” Allen asked.
“Another man,” Sidri said quietly. She squeezed his hand, tossed him a significant look. “Tatum didn’t know he could be bisexual at first. When our threesome explorations began, it was with the understanding that either I would be the one being shared, or he would. It wasn’t until a wild night in Hawaii, when we met a man named Xavier and asked him back to our room, that we realized we could have so much more. Xavier was bi, you see. He’s the one who taught Tatum and me what it could be like, sharing a man between us.”
Allen hated the guy instantly. He cleared his throat. “Why not him?” The question burned like acid in his mouth, but he had to ask. “Why wasn’t he the one who…became the last member of the party?”
She shot him another significant look, letting him know she heard how much he hated asking the question—and letting him know he was a fool for doubting himself.
“Because he just wasn’t. The first night was fun, a teaching expedition, so to speak. But he wasn’t ours, and we didn’t want him to be.” She turned her hand so their palms faced each other, brought the back of his hand
to her lips. “You are the only man who has ever captivated both of us, Allen. Yes, we’ve shared other men. And yes, we enjoyed the encounters immensely. But you’re the first—the only—one we’ve ever wanted to become a permanent part of our lives. You’re the only one we both want.” She paused, swallowed. “The one we both need.”
Allen closed his eyes briefly, looked back out the windshield. “How can you know that for sure?” he asked quietly. “I’ve never met Tatum face-to-face. We’ve only talked on the phone and seen each other in person the once. Yesterday. How can you be so certain…”
She sighed. “Please, baby, trust me. I know this is all new. Surreal. But just trust me. I promise you, with everything I am, it will work out fine. Please, just promise me one thing.”
He turned back to her, surprised to hear the hitch in her voice. “Anything,” he promised fiercely, recklessly.
She bit her lip, looking at him sideways. “Promise me that, no matter what happens over the next two weeks, you will never run because of something you don’t understand, because of something you think ‘other people’”—and the air quotes were obvious in her tone—“won’t approve of. Promise me you will only make decisions based on what you, Allen, feel to be right and true.”
She swallowed, visibly tense. “We will do everything in our power to help you understand, to help you believe, that this is meant to be. But, if you decide, in your own heart and mind, that this isn’t what you want, we will let you go.”
Allen’s heart turned to lead in his chest, but she continued before he could start doubting himself again. “But understand this. We will not let you go if we feel you’re running from something outside yourself, do you understand?”
She stopped at a red light, glancing at him over her sunglasses with a raised eyebrow. “There will only be three people in our bedroom: you, me, and Tatum. If you try and bring some anonymous, judgmental, faceless ‘they’ in there with us, then Tatum and I will kick your ass so hard you’ll be tasting your own balls for the next month. Clear?”
He laughed at the unexpected threat, even though he took it seriously. “I promise. After last night…Well, let’s just say I’ve gotten a lot more open minded.”
She grinned. “Good. That’s settled. And just in time, too.” She gestured out the windshield with her chin. “Because the house is on the next street.”
* * * *
Tatum sat on the couch in the lake house’s lavish living room, clicking through channels like a machine-gunner with a happy trigger finger.
They were close. Almost here. Sidri had texted him a few hours ago, letting him know they would be there as soon as humanly possible, barring any unforeseen Houston traffic snarls. After waking up to her text this morning—Be ready. We’ll be there ASAP—he felt as if his body had been wired to a car battery while the owner kept trying to rev the engine.
It would be fine. Had to be fine. He’d dreamed about this, fantasized about this, prayed for this, for so long it was almost as if it had already happened. But now, faced with the very real possibility that Allen would run from him, Tatum was forced to accept the reality that fantasies didn’t always come true.
Tatum rubbed both hands over his face, tossing the remote onto the seat beside him. He didn’t know why it surprised him. Wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before. Just because a guy was willing to experiment with another guy didn’t mean he wanted to form a permanent attachment with that guy. And the men they’d shared over the years had always been perfectly willing to attach themselves to Sidri.
They’d just had no desire to form an attachment with him.
The sound of a car door slamming ricocheted around the room like a gunshot. Tatum shot to his feet but paused before rushing to the door. The man would already be nervous, already unsure of himself. If Tatum attacked like a hungry lion, he’d bolt like a frightened gazelle. He needed to stay calm, stay focused, and above all, restrain his innate aggression.
So he waited in the entry hall, hands shoved in his pockets, as Sidri’s keys jingled in the lock. Tatum had dressed carefully for this first meeting. He didn’t want to appear too casual yet also didn’t want to feel like a teenager waiting for his prom date to arrive. So he’d opted for fitted khaki shorts, a blue-and-white striped polo shirt that clung to every line and muscle in his torso, and his favorite Puma sneakers. Definitely not formal, but not so casual he came across as a slob, either.
He wanted Allen to find him just as physically appealing as Tatum found him.
Please, please, God, let this be the one. If we lose another one because of me…
And then all such petty considerations disappeared completely as the door flew open and Sidri threw her arms around his neck in a fierce, possessive hug. Tatum laughed, swung her around in a tight circle, and buried his face in her gorgeous auburn tresses. He inhaled deeply, loving her scent, all sexy female seductress combined with the light floral perfume of her favorite shampoo.
“I missed you. So much,” Sidri breathed against his neck.
Tatum’s arms tightened around her, and he sighed contentedly. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
When he could stand it no longer, Tatum pulled back enough to cup Sidri’s cheek. He smiled into her eyes for a moment then took her lips in a hot, openmouthed kiss. Jesus Christ, he’d missed this. Missed the aggressive way her tongue battled with his, missed the taste of her mouth. Her full breasts mashed against his chest, the insistent tug of her fingers in his hair. He could drown like this, a happy man.
At long last, he ended the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment with eyes shut tight. She squeezed his shoulders, ever able to understand the turmoil going through him. He smiled, returning her squeeze, before taking a deep breath and letting her step past him. Then he focused on the man still standing in the open doorway.
Christ God in Heaven. He’d thought Allen was beautiful looking at him through a computer monitor? Nothing could hold a candle to this man’s sheer physical perfection. His sexy-as-fuck black hair was done up in trendy spikes, his deeply tanned skin so mouthwatering Tatum wanted to lick him everywhere to find out if he tasted as good as he looked. And that face, God, that face. An angel in truth.
Unfortunately for Tatum’s peace of mind, this angel was also terrified right now. He stood in the open doorway, shaking as he stared at Tatum in wide-eyed amazement. Allen didn’t know what to do with his hands. One moment, they’d be shoved in his pockets. The next, he’d pull them out and wipe his palms nervously on his pant legs. His liquid, too-knowing brown eyes darted every which way, checking Tatum out from head to toe, yet obviously embarrassed by the desire to stare. His amazingly wide shoulders were drawn up in agitation, his feet shuffling nervously on the welcome mat. As Tatum watched, Allen gulped hard several times and licked his lips.
Tatum wanted to eat the man alive.
He shoved the urge to pounce and claim back by the skin of his teeth. If he couldn’t control himself now, Allen would never trust him. And if Tatum did something to frighten this gorgeous, achingly self-conscious man during their very first in-person meeting, he would never, never forgive himself.
Taking a deep breath, Tatum approached, slowly. Allen’s gorgeous brown eyes locked on his blue ones, wild and scared. Tatum kept his expression somewhere between welcome and blatant hunger, simply because he could not conceal how much he wanted this man. But he kept his movements slow, steady, to let Allen know that nothing would happen without his say-so. When he got close enough he could feel the heat of the shorter man’s body, Tatum reached a long arm over his shoulder and quietly shut the door.
Allen jumped but otherwise remained still. Tatum stared into those liquid brown eyes as he slowly, slowly raised his other hand and palmed Allen’s jaw. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, but he didn’t pull away.
“I will never do anything you aren’t ready for,” Tatum assured in a quiet rumble, voice thick and growly like a rock star. Allen blinked. “I promise, Allen. Nothing
until you’re ready.”
Allen stared at him for a long, tense moment. Then he nodded.
Reining his libido in by sheer force of willpower, Tatum ran his thumb along Allen’s lower lip. The other man shuddered visibly, still nervous but no longer obviously terrified. Then, because he absolutely had to, Tatum leaned forward and brought Allen in for a sweet kiss.
He didn’t take, didn’t plunder. Just a closed-mouthed brush of lips on lips, a gentle rub to let him know Tatum meant what he said. But still, he couldn’t help running his tongue ever-so-gently along the seam between those luscious lips, promising Heaven and earth if this man would just trust him. When Allen’s tentative, shaking hands touched Tatum’s waist like the gentle caress of a butterfly’s wings, he nearly came right then.
Shaking himself now, Tatum pulled back before his screaming hormones could take this further than Allen was ready to go yet. He swallowed hard, staring into wide brown eyes that were now sparking with lust instead of fear. Smiling softly, he caressed the back of Allen’s neck.
“I bet you guys are hungry,” he said. “I got Chinese on the way up. Go on, join Sidri. I’ll bring us all plates and we can get to know each other a bit more, all right?”
Allen nodded, licking his lower lip. Tatum groaned, closing his eyes briefly. Then he stole one last hard, quick kiss—still chaste—and turned away before he did something he couldn’t take back.
Sidri sat on the couch, watching their interplay over the back. Tatum went to her, bent at the waist, and speared his fingers through her hair. She lifted her chin invitingly, mouth open, and he couldn’t help but kiss her violently, possessively, spearing his tongue into every corner of her mouth. She hummed against his lips, giving as good as she got, obviously loving his aggression, the fact she could taste Allen on Tatum’s tongue. Tatum shuddered, a hard ripple of muscle that shook his whole body, and stood up straight. He strode to the kitchen, feeling as if his skin were on fire, breathing hard.
Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 15