Three Player Game

by Jaime Samms

  They didn’t let him help with the cleanup. Pete shuffled Lee off to his room with instructions to lie down and get comfortable on his stomach, and wait for him. He handed him a cloth sac filled with rice he had heated up in the microwave and a towel. “I’ll need your back bare. Put the towel over your shoulders and lay this across. They’ll be the stiffest, and the heat will start you off loosening up. You’ve been tense all evening.” He smiled. “Try not to worry so much.”

  “Thanks. I’m not worried.”

  Pete didn’t argue with him, but Lee got the distinct impression his reply amused Pete.

  A few minutes later, in his own room with the door half closed, Lee was suddenly more unsure than he had ever been.

  “You’re an idiot,” he mumbled to himself. There was absolutely no reason to be unsure. It was like any other situation with any other guy. Pete had already confessed he wanted Lee. So there was no reason for Lee not to go into this, get what he wanted out of it, and then get out. Even if all he wanted was a massage that would ease the strain so he could get some sleep.

  Vince watched Lee make his stiff way out of the kitchen before turning to Pete. “What was he talking about before? What did you say to him? Why is he so spooked?”

  Pete held up both hands. “See. I knew you were going to freak out.”

  “I am not freaking out. I want to know what the hell is wrong with him. This morning he was all but shoving his tongue down your throat, now he’s skittish and weird. What happened?”

  “I texted him.”

  “Pete.”

  “Just to get him to ask you to bring some stuff back because you were in meetings. So I asked him to let you know. He panicked, I guess. Said he was staying at his own place tonight. So I had to go fetch him. But I told you all this already. He told you when he texted you from the car.”

  “You both left out the part where you said something to him that has him questioning everything. So how about we skip to that. Yeah?”

  Pete pulled in a deep breath. He met Vince’s gaze, not defiant but not cowed, either, and Vince realized he was standing over Pete, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “Sorry.” He took a step back and dropped his arms, pushing his hands into his pockets.

  “I was talking about making supper. Cooking. He . . . assumed some things.”

  “What things?”

  “I might have let the word ‘serve’ slip.”

  “Back up. Because I heard that part. Something got him spooked before that.”

  Pete curled his lips over his teeth and scuffed a foot over the floor. “I should have talked to you first.”

  “About?”

  “I might have panicked a bit when he didn’t come back here. I went to get him and . . .”

  When Pete didn’t say more, Vince took a step toward him. “And what?”

  Finally, Pete lifted his head, gaze direct and clear. “I want to keep him.”

  Butterflies and snakes vied for space in Vince’s gut. “You told him that?”

  “I told him we both were thinking about it.”

  “Before you and I talked about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Pete moved forward fast, fingers curling around Vince’s wrists, holding tight. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but . . .” He let out a breath. “I’ll undo this. If you don’t want to try with him, I’ll undo it. I’ll take the hit.”

  “Why?”

  Pete blinked. “Why? Why what?”

  “Why do you want him?”

  There was a pause as Pete stared at him, mouth open, gaze unfocused. “I like him,” he said at last.

  “He can be mean.”

  “That’s not who he is.”

  Vince couldn’t stop the soft smile that curled his lips. His stomach settled. “I don’t think so either. But we weren’t going to mention any of this to him until we even figured out if he was interested in—”

  “He almost kissed me.” Pete grinned. “You would have let him.”

  That was true, so Vince nodded.

  “And, anyway, I didn’t do it on purpose. We were talking. It slipped out, and then the serving thing . . . I told him how I am. What I do around here. When I’m here. He inferred some things, and I guess he’s sort of wondering where he might fit into that.”

  “You guess. Sort of. Might.” Vince tossed up his hands and let them fall with a slap against his thighs. “Honestly. Sometimes I swear you disconnect your brain from your lips.”

  Pete grinned. “Sometimes, you like that.”

  “Stop.” Vince glared, but Pete was so far under his skin there was no way not to cave to his charm. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

  “I talk.” Pete shrugged and moved into Vince’s space. His heat swirled around Vince before he did. “You do. It’s how we work, and that’s okay.” He wrapped both arms around Vince’s waist and laid his head on Vince’s chest. His curls scraped against Vince’s chin, and his scent invaded his nostrils. Vince enfolded him up and held tightly.

  Pete’s hard body pressed against his, fitting into his empty spaces like putty, bracing him where he was weakest. Pete was malleable and soft and, in that moment when Vince most needed it, utterly unbreakable. He buried his face in Pete’s fluffy hair and sighed.

  “Pete, I don’t really know how to do this. I work with the guy. It’s tricky. I’m feeling my way here, and I honestly don’t know what to do next.”

  “So let me talk. Convince him.”

  Vince took a small step back so he could look down at Pete. He pushed a curl off Pete’s forehead, studying his intent expression. “Maybe this time talking isn’t the answer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just go in there and . . . do . . .”

  Pete watched him, waiting, but Vince wasn’t sure what else to say. Pete was right about that part. Vince wasn’t the talker of the two of them.

  “Do what?” Pete finally asked.

  “I don’t know.” And there it was. Vince’s gut dropped. He didn’t know, and he hated not knowing. “Do . . . whatever. Be with him and . . .” He was going to tell Pete to take the lead. It turned everything between them on its head, but he knew it was right. Even if it twisted his guts and made him nervous, underneath his own unease, he felt the rightness of letting Pete figure this out for them.

  “Don’t panic,” Pete said softly. “This is it, right? We’re doing this?”

  The only response Vince could come up with was a nod.

  “Then it’s okay. I’ll manage it.” He cupped Vince’s cheek, pushed up on his toes, and kissed him. “I know where you are if I need you.”

  It was crazy. This whole thing was crazy. Pete wiped his chin and set his toothbrush back in the holder as he stared at his reflection.

  “Not too late to back out.” Was it?

  But no. He didn’t want to back out. He just wanted Vince in there with him. He’d never imagined his first time with Lee would be without Vince next to him. But he had promised Vince he’d figure it out, and so he would.

  “Don’t be an asshole. You’re going to give him a back massage, exactly like you told him. Nothing else needs to happen.”

  Vince seemed convinced something else would, but Pete wasn’t sure. He didn’t know how he felt about it. Didn’t know if he wanted that.

  Then again, Lee wasn’t going to force anything on him anymore than he intended to force anything on Lee.

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

  But his brain never listened to him when this happened. It went on and on, out of control at a screeching level of fast-forward. It was why he needed Vince and the meditation. They calmed him. Grounded him. Lee couldn’t do that. He had no idea about the shit that went on in Pete’s brain.

  “Fuck!” Pete glared at his own reflection. His hair was all over the place. He hadn’t really done much to tame the curls today, and he’d been out in the drizzle to get Lee. He had just enough red-haired gene to make that a dire mistake. He poked at it, but there wasn’t r
eally anything that could fix it short of a shower, shampoo, and conditioner. He didn’t have that kind of time now. Vince was going to start worrying if he didn’t get out of the bathroom soon.

  “Stop it,” he told himself. “Just stop it, you dipshit. It’s just fucking hair.”

  “Pete.” Vince’s soft voice came through the door. “Baby, stop swearing at yourself in the mirror and come out here.”

  A startled chuckle escaped before Pete could clamp down on it. “I’m not doing that,” he lied.

  “Pete.” There was a soft thump. Probably Vince’s head impacting the door on the other side. Sometimes Pete drove him to bang his head against the wall.

  “Shit.”

  “Pete. Come on.”

  “All right, all right. I’m coming.” He opened the door and stepped out.

  “Relax.” Vince kissed him gently. It was so clearly calculated to calm him that it had the exact opposite effect, ramping up his irritation. It felt more like he was being sent to the slaughter than that his lover wanted to ease his worry. He yanked back and crossed his arms.

  “I’m fine.” Another lie, spouted with such snark Vince couldn’t miss the truth behind it.

  “Be still,” Vince snapped, the heat sparked by Pete’s defiance.

  That sharp tone did what all the cajoling hadn’t managed, and Pete’s butterflies settled. His nerves tingled back into their proper alignment, and his brain hummed into silence. “Thank God,” he breathed.

  Vince grabbed both his biceps and yanked Pete off-balance and into a kiss so hot and demanding Pete forgot to breathe. Forgot to think. Forgot his name for a few heartbeats, then he was set back onto his feet, the world once more right side up and his head space calmed.

  “Better?” Vince asked when he’d caught his own breath.

  Pete nodded. “I needed that.”

  Vince’s smile was calmer too. “So did I, apparently. Now go give him his massage. Don’t worry about anything else.”

  That, Pete could do.

  Lee was lying on his stomach on the bed, arms under his pillow, a sheet pulled over his ass and legs. The faint outline of dark briefs showed though the thin white sheet. He had his eyes closed, but there was a too-tense line to his back that told Pete he wasn’t asleep.

  “Hey,” Pete said quietly as he stepped inside. “You still up for this?”

  “Yeah.” Lee’s voice was low but harsh, like he was speaking through gravel.

  “Okay. Mind if I light a few candles and turn off the overhead light? It’ll help you relax.”

  “Sure. Whatever floats your— Sure.”

  “Candles and sweet jazz in the background,” Pete said. “Clean sheets. Being able to smell that salty-damp moss smell. You know, just after it rains.” As he spoke, he lit the candles on the dresser. He’d changed out the plain beeswax for faintly scented citrus when he’d changed the sheets earlier that day.

  “What?” The thickness had left Lee’s voice, but he still sounded raw.

  “You saw the flogger already. And the dildo, so you know about those.” Pete flicked off the overhead light, dropping the room into softly undulating shadow and small pools of yellow light. “I’m going to get on the bed. Okay if I straddle you?”

  “What the hell?” Lee strained to look over his shoulder.

  “Your thighs,” Pete said, touching Lee in the center of his thigh, well away from his nicely mounded ass. “So I can reach your back better.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Lee settled down again. “Shit.”

  “It’s okay. Where was I? Oh, yeah flogger and dildo.” Pete smiled, watching the muscles in Lee’s back ripple, like he was trying to suppress a shudder and failing. “Also, blindfolds.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Things that float my boat. That is what you were going to say, right? Whatever floats my boat?”

  Lee snorted. “God. Nothing fazes you.”

  “Not true.” Since Lee hadn’t said no, Pete carefully climbed on top of him and settled on his heels, one knee on either side of Lee’s hips. “This okay?”

  A soft whoof of air left Lee. He gave a vague nod, but there was no other sound. As if experimenting, he shifted his legs. He barely had room for movement, and Pete held his breath, waiting for Lee to ask for more.

  He didn’t.

  Slowly, Pete leaned forward and placed a hand in the center of Lee’s back. “I’m going to get rid of the heating pad and towel. I’ll use some oil. I picked a scent that will help open up your sacral chakra.” He paused. If Lee was going to scoff, this would be the time.

  He didn’t.

  “Close your eyes and visualize orange. It’ll help.”

  “Orange? Like, the color?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Um. Okay.”

  And so, for a while, they were silent, Pete massaging and Lee breathing carefully as Pete loosened up his muscles. The room smelled citrusy and soft by the time he was done. Lee’s breathing had eased, and he sighed delicately when Pete finally got off him.

  “Man. That’s amazing.” Lee tested, lifting his weight slowly, then he rolled over to his side so he faced Pete. “You’re good at that.”

  Pete grinned. “Told you I had a lot of settings.”

  “Yeah?” Lee stared up at him, gaze softer than Pete had ever seen it.

  “Yeah.” Pete pressed a palm to Lee’s chest, though his attention caught on his mouth as Lee dragged his tongue over his lips, leaving a shine of moisture behind. His eyes were dark in the candlelight, his cheeks flushed. Hair flopped over his forehead, and he flicked his head to move it but it tumbled back.

  Pete brushed it away for him. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, as much to his own surprise as Lee’s.

  Lee blinked at him, but he nodded, a tiny dip of his chin. “Kay.”

  The velvety mood of the light and their quiet breaths encouraged Pete to go slow. But when their lips met, it spiked his heartrate into the stratosphere.

  Lee tasted like mint and nerves. He shook slightly under Pete, and so Pete straddled him again, easing Lee onto his back, digging into the kiss, grounding it the way Vince did when Pete needed connection.

  Sounds came from Lee as their mouths slid together, huffs and grunts of pleasure dropping into the quiet room. At first, he only laid his hands on Pete’s thighs, keeping still, like he didn’t dare do more than touch, in case it all evaporated under his fingertips. Pete knew how that felt. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It should have been Vince who got this first taste, the first feel of their new lover.

  He backed out of the kiss to haul in air. “Touch me,” he whispered. “I need . . . touch. Please.”

  Lee stroked up his arm, over his shoulder, snaked fingers into his hair and eased him down into another deeper kiss. This time, the sounds came from Pete, a breathy moan as he wiggled closer, tighter to Lee’s body. Lee felt heavenly. Where Vince was soft and compact, Lee was all angles and hardness. Pete settled onto him, full length, bodies connected lips to ankles with Pete’s hip on the mattress tight against Lee’s to avoid putting his entire weight on Lee and undoing the work of the massage.

  As he found a good angle, Pete dragged his mouth off Lee’s and over his jaw. Now he had him, he wanted to taste everything, explore and feel every bit of him, all the ridges and valleys, clear skin and lightly haired limbs.

  “Pete.” Lee’s hands played over his head and neck, fingers pads scraping along his jaw as Pete kissed and licked down his throat to his collarbones and pecs.

  Vince had hair on his chest, swirls of it that rasped Pete’s tongue and made his fingers tingle when he rubbed it. Lee was warm skin over smooth muscle. He shivered when Pete licked over his ribs, and moaned when he nipped at his nipples. His body jerked and he gasped when Pete got to his briefs. His cockhead peeked from the tight elastic, and Pete tongued it, tasting the bitter tang.

  “Oh fuck,” Lee whispered, tangling his fingers in Pete’s hair. “Oh God, Pete. Please.”

 
; Pete glanced up from where he was caught in Lee’s grip.

  “That too,” he teased.

  “What?” Lee blinked, confusion edging into his gaze.

  “If you . . .” Pete’s mouth watered and his breath caught. Words. Don’t fuck it up with words. But Lee wasn’t Vince. He didn’t know what Pete liked. What he wanted—needed—in this moment. But then his throat locked and his words dried up. Helpless as Lee watched him. Panic rose. How did he tell him? If you make me suck your cock, I’ll probably come in my pants.

  All he could do was stare and will Lee to understand what he wasn’t saying.

  “I have to hear what you don’t say,” Lee murmured.

  Pete closed his eyes. He was an idiot. Stuck and panicking.

  “He wants to suck your cock.”

  Vince. Oh thank God for Vince.

  Pete jerked his head, a jagged nod, and his mouth watered. Flooded. “Please,” he croaked.

  Lee’s chest heaved. He was looking past Pete to the doorway, his fingers in Pete’s hair painfully tight. “I—” His lips moved, but it seemed his words had failed him too.

  “It’s okay,” Vince crooned, and his footfalls padded across the carpet. The bed dipped. He rubbed a hand up Pete’s back, and as Pete watched, he cupped Lee’s face with the other. “If it’s okay with you, you have to tell him that, Lee.”

  Lee nodded. “I—” He swallowed. “Shit. Yeah. I— It’s. Please.” He dragged his gaze back to Pete. “Please.”

  Released from the strange, frozen spell, Pete tugged Lee’s briefs, dragging them down far enough to free his cock.

  He didn’t waste any time getting his lips around Lee, swallowing him back as far as he could, tasting and licking and reveling in the long, slender feel of Lee’s cock. Compared to Vince, he wasn’t as big, but he was so hard. His hips, boney and sharp, rocked and juddered, forcing his cock deeper. As Lee’s fingers spasmed, in his hair, Pete groaned and took it, savoring the comfort of this position. Vince’s hand roved up and down his back, over his ass, up to cup his nape where it at last came to rest as Lee shouted a brief warning, then came.