Three Player Game

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Three Player Game Page 22

by Jaime Samms


  “Okay.” Before Lee could ask what that meant, Vince had left the room and closed the door behind him.

  Turning back to his charge, Lee squirted conditioner into his palm, being generous with the stuff, and carefully worked it through Pete’s wild tangles. It took him half their allotted time to get the conditioner through all the knots and rinsed out again. By the time he was done, Pete was coherent enough to be wiggling close, stealing kisses, copping feels and rubbing himself against Lee at every opportunity. He was distracting and uncooperative as far as getting his hair fixed up was concerned, and Lee was finally forced to grab both his wandering hands and pin them to the shower wall.

  Spray pelted Lee on the back as he stared down at Pete. “You’re very handsy.”

  Pete nodded and strained forward for a kiss. After letting him struggle to get one, Lee capitulated and delivered, pushing until Pete’s head was against the tiles and his moans were heady, his arms strained in his hold, and his hips undulated against him.

  Lee pulled back from the kiss. “You want to get off?”

  “Want you to fuck me.” Pete strove to twist in Lee’s grip to expose his ass.

  “Not sure that’s in the rules.”

  “The rules are whatever we make them.”

  “The rules are for me to tame you a bit. Starting with your hair.”

  “You wait and see how tame I am once I’ve come a river all over this shower. Now get that monster cock in my ass.”

  Lee let him flip so Pete’s back was to Lee’s front, then he leaned in hard, pinning him against the wall. “You have a very dirty mouth,” he whispered, mouth right at Pete’s ear, body close enough to feel the resultant shiver course through Pete. He rolled his hips so his hard-on sank between the globes of Pete’s ass. “That what you want?” he asked, rocking and rubbing so his cock ran over Pete’s hole when Pete arched his back to get that particular contact.

  “Fuck yes. Want to be fucked. Hard. Want you to take me. Please.” Pete had no compunction about begging, with either his voice or his body.

  A knock on the shower door startled Lee, but Pete either didn’t notice in his frantic rutting, or didn’t care.

  Vince appeared, a condom packet held between two fingers.

  Lee gulped.

  “Lee, please. I need to feel that cock inside me. Need it so bad. Need you. Wanna come with it in me.” Pete groaned, a long, low, needy hum without words that vibrated right down to Lee’s balls.

  Lee nodded at Vince, who ripped open the condom and opened the door enough for Lee to take it.

  As soon as his hand was free, Pete reached for his dick.

  “Oh no you don’t, you little minx.” Vince denied him by grabbing his wrist and holding tight.

  Pete’s resultant whimper bled into a sigh as Vince snaked his other hand between Pete’s legs, up the inside of his thighs, and tugged on his balls.

  “Fuck!” Pete shivered and dropped his head forward.

  “Nice, baby.” Pushing a finger between his ass cheeks distracted Pete, making him whimper and beg, while Lee fit the condom over his cock.

  Vince helped him with the lube, squirting it onto Lee’s fingers and holding one of Pete’s ass cheeks aside so Lee could see what he was doing as he drove a finger deep into him.

  Pete keened and arched his back, begging for more, widening his stance as Lee added a second finger and quickly worked them to loosen the ring of muscle.

  “He doesn’t like a lot of prep,” Vince reminded Lee, watching avidly as Lee’s fingers pumped in and pulled out, over and over.

  Lee nodded, parted his fingers as wide as he could as he pulled them out, observing Pete’s body undulate with the stretch. He didn’t waste any time shoving his raging-hard cock in to replace them. Pete pushed back, accepting the invasion, propelling himself onto Lee with so much force Lee had to brace himself with a hand on the wall behind him.

  “Pete.” Vince’s voice cracked.

  Pete stilled, frozen, mouth open slightly, eyes so wide Lee could see the whites reflected in the glass.

  “You want to get fucked hard, Pete?” Vince asked, snaking fingers into his hair and dragging his head around so Pete was looking at him.

  “Please,” Pete whispered. “So bad. Please, Vince. Please can I have it?”

  Lee’s knees wobbled at the naked want in Pete’s begging. Vince was in charge now, so Lee waited and watched as Pete at last focused on Vince’s face. His own expression was so vulnerable and filled with the desire to be taken Lee could barely breathe. It was powerful to have all that desire directed outward, and Lee suddenly understood why they needed him. Vince was a kind, determined, generous man willing to do anything for his lover. Pete was a live wire of need right now, though, and connecting to it could easily drain a person.

  “Vince,” Lee croaked, straining with the effort of remaining still when he was balls-deep in Pete, so close to taking what Pete was desperate to give up.

  “Go,” Vince barked, hauling Pete close so he could kiss him as Lee began to pump hard and fast into him.

  Pete let them pin him and fuck him, allowed them to manhandle him however they needed to get the job done, and still, he hadn’t come when Lee could hold out no longer.

  “Vince,” Lee said again, pleading for himself this time. He needed to end this. He couldn’t wait.

  “Come,” Vince demanded, yanking Pete’s head up to look him in the eye. “You want that, Pete?”

  Pete gulped and nodded.

  “Come inside him now.”

  It was all the permission Lee needed. He unloaded his desire into Pete’s body, trembling with the force of his orgasm.

  And still, Pete remained hard, begging for release he didn’t seem able to find.

  When Lee had finished, Vince ordered him to pull out and help Pete out of the shower.

  Lee had to ignore his shaking legs and lassitude long enough to complete this. He dropped the condom onto a shower ledge to deal with later and turned off the water as Vince dragged Pete out onto the mat and made him kneel.

  He had his own cock in hand, and he glanced up at Lee. “Hold his head.” He indicated the way he was keeping Pete still with a hand in his hair. It looked painful, the tightness of that grip. “And hold him hard. He can take it. He wants it that way.”

  Pete whimpered and nodded, gazing up at Vince in adoration.

  “You’ll take me too,” Vince told him, dragging his cock along Pete’s bottom lip.

  Lee’s mouth watered at the thought of swallowing that magnificent cock, but he understood this time was for Pete, and he sank his fingers deep, close to Pete’s scalp, and knelt behind him so he could grip Pete’s wrists behind his back as well.

  Pete had said he was trained not to need restraint. Lee was so trained as well. It meant nothing when one craved being held down, taken, done to as your lover dictated. Once he had a good grip on Pete, his front pressed reassuringly to Pete’s back, he looked up at Vince and nodded.

  God, it felt good to be down here, looking up at him, doing as he was told to help his Dom get what he wanted: satisfaction for himself, as well as for their pet.

  “Open,” Vince ordered, and Pete did, without hesitation, allowing Vince to slowly push in, deep, deeper, probably farther than Lee would have been able to manage.

  He felt it when Pete stopped breathing, his small body going preternaturally still against Lee’s as Vince stared down, watching carefully, cock held so deep.

  Lee’s heart stuttered. His own breath caught as he waited for Pete to squirm, for him to struggle, do something. Then Vince pulled out, and Pete sucked in a ragged breath, sagging so Lee had to hold him up, his hand in Pete’s hair pulling the strands tight until Pete was under his own control again.

  The motion repeated, over and over, until Pete’s face was flush and wet with tears and Lee was holding him up by his wrists and his hair because he no longer had the ability to stay upright himself.

  “Vince,” Lee whispered. It was so much. P
ete was panting and sweating, begging between bouts of not being able to breath, whimpering.

  “Once more,” Vince said quietly. “Keep him still.”

  Lee did as he was told, this time releasing Pete’s hands because he hadn’t the faculties or strength to use them anyway. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Pete’s chest.

  “Perfect,” Vince said, moving Lee’s hand to rest on top of Pete’s clavicle. Not on his throat, but at the base of it, symbolic.

  “You want me to come in you?” Vince asked Pete.

  “Please,” Pete croaked, voice raw from the abuse of his throat.

  “You’ll come when I do,” Vince told him.

  Pete nodded.

  “Good boy.” Vince sank, so slowly, into Pete’s mouth, down his throat, deeper than he had yet gone, until Pete jerked like his gag reflex had finally engaged.

  Vince groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as Pete’s throat worked around his buried cock. “Oh fuck, I forgot about this,” he murmured. “You’re so good, Pete. So.” He jerked his hips back and forward again, not quite as deep now, but without mercy as he made little thrusts that Pete struggled to swallow around. “So. Fucking. Good. God. Take. It. Ungh.” His body stiffened and flushed. His cock pulsed, and Lee knew he’d come.

  Pete whimpered around his mouthful and as come leaked past his lips and down his chin, his own body heated and trembled, and Lee felt the warmth of his release slither over his thighs where Pete sank into his lap, exhausted and limp.

  The room was silent for long, slow heartbeats. Lee shook in the aftermath, and it wasn’t even his orgasm. The remnants of that were long gone. He stared at Vince in awe.

  “What?” Vince eyed him back, satisfaction on his face as he stroked Pete, petting him where he lay in Lee’s lap.

  “You’re not who I thought you were,” Lee whispered.

  “Who did you think I was?”

  “A little boy who didn’t know the first thing about office politics or getting ahead.”

  Vince reached past Pete and touched Lee, his fingers tender and loving as he tucked that strand of bangs behind Lee’s ear. “This isn’t office politics, Lee. I don’t have to be a corporate guru to keep my boys safe and happy.”

  Pete murmured in Lee’s arms, stirring and smiling up at them. “That was so good,” he breathed. He smiled more deeply at Vince. “Hasn’t been like that in . . . ever?”

  Vince kissed his cheek. “I don’t think so.” He met Lee’s eyes. “We were missing a piece, you and me, babe.”

  “We were.” Pete stroked Lee’s foot, because, without moving, maybe that was the only part of Lee he could reach. “Thank goodness we found him and he let us keep him.”

  Vince let out a little laugh. “Yes. Thank goodness. But, babe, as comfy as you may be, he can’t sit on the cold floor much longer, so let’s get you up. Have a nice cool rinse, both of you, and no more hanky-panky.”

  “I don’t think I have any more in me,” Pete confessed, as he let Vince pull him to his feet.

  Lee didn’t think he had that kind of energy, either. Certainly, he wasn’t ashamed to accept their help in getting off the floor. He surprised himself, though when he found enough to make sure Pete’s hair was tangle-free before they stepped out to dry each other off.

  Vince watched for a few minutes as his lovers slowly scrubbed each other clean. Seeing the extra time and care Lee took to ensure Pete’s wild curls were tangle-free made Vince smile.

  “You’re not who I thought you were, either,” he whispered. His first encounter with Lee had been so long ago, as an intern in New York before Lee had gone to Bluewater Bay with Blaire, and Vince had known then that, one day, Lee would be his. He’d just never expected the cold office conniver to have this tender side, this caring touch and willingness to give. He’d thought Lee would be an icy conquest at best, and then, when Lee had left, a fantasy. Vince hadn’t known he would soon follow.

  But Bluewater Bay had changed them both. It had softened some of Lee’s edges, taught Vince the value of old-fashioned hard work and determination. Not every city boy who came to Bluewater Bay was going to find a home here, but a few of them had, and it gave Vince hope.

  For so long, he’d worried that Pete might not stay past the last season of Wolf’s Landing, whenever that happened to be. He had so much potential to go far in his field, if he had the right coping mechanisms when he wasn’t on set.

  Vince let out a sigh. He couldn’t worry about that tonight. He couldn’t worry about it until it happened. Closing the bathroom door on the tender scene of after care in the shower, he hurried to get himself cleaned up and ready to meet them in the kitchen.

  After sleeping longer than twelve hours that day, Pete would have expected to have more energy, but supper proved a challenge to get through. When they settled on the couch, his feet on Lee, his head in Vince’s lap, he struggled to stay conscious.

  “You never did tell us why you were home so early,” Lee said.

  “Oh!” That sent a flash of excitement through Pete. “I can’t believe I forgot. The studio was crazy. I had the schedule so packed I could barely remember my own name. If Kylee hadn’t—”

  “Pete.” Vince gripped his face. “Focus, babe.”

  Heat chased the spike of adrenaline at remembering the news he had all but forgotten in the hectic drive to get the voice-overs done. “Sorry.” He pulled free and sat up between them. “So did I tell you that Levi and Carter cornered me before we left and asked me to share their car down?”

  “No.” Vince raised an eyebrow. “That’s kind of big, isn’t it?”

  “Huge, and I had no idea why. We talked about so much. Movies we all liked—or didn’t—books we’d read, screenplays we’d like to get our mitts on. Stuff like that. Not work, really. It was . . . weird.”

  In fact, it had been the oddest few hours he could remember.

  “And?” Lee prompted.

  “Oh. And, turns out, it was an interview. Sort of.”

  “A what now?” It was Lee’s turn to swivel so he, too, was facing Pete.

  “An interview. Levi does a lot of stuff with the theater in town, right? Directs stuff, acts sometimes. It’s kind of his baby.”

  “If you say so.” They were both so focused on him now, Pete shrank back into the couch.

  “Well, he does. And he wants to do more. He figures there are enough tourists and local folk and transplants like, well, like all of us, to really get the place going. But he needs people.”

  “For what?”

  “Organizing things, mostly.” Pete grinned. “But you know, stage managing. Wrangling people. Getting shit done. Eventually directing, once I get the hang of stage direction.”

  “What about Wolf’s Landing?” Vince asked.

  Pete shrugged. “It’s great. I love that job. But it’s going to end. Eventually.” He glanced from Vince to Lee. “And I don’t want to have to relocate for another job. I think this will be perfect. Won’t pay as much, but there’s three of us. I figure we can make it work.”

  “So . . .” Vince frowned at him. “You said yes?”

  “Well. It isn’t a real job. Not yet. We’re all too busy with the show right now. But he asked if I was interested, and if I wanted to maybe come out to some rehearsals and check things out. See if it might be an option.” Pete grinned. “It was so crazy. Levi Pritchard was acting like I was some big-shot, too important to consider a lowly job in his little theater.” He snorted and shook his head. “Crazy.”

  As he’d wound down, silence thickened, and the air grew heavy with staring.

  “What?”

  “That’s—” Vince swallowed audibly.

  “What?” Pete furrowed his brow. “You okay?”

  “Are you considering it?” Lee asked. “He wants to know what you told him. If you’re considering it, that’s a big deal. A big, staying-in-Bluewater-Bay-indefinitely deal.”

  “Well.” Pete grinned. “Of course. Where else would I go?” He pushed at Vince’s
chest. “Lean back. I want to lay down.”

  “Pete.” Vince cupped his face. “I—”

  “I love you.” Pete shrugged. “I want to be where you are.” He looked at Lee. “Where you both are. If the job’s there when the show moves on, I’ll take it. It actually sounds kind of fun. Maybe a little less stressful. Can we watch TV now?”

  Lee bent to kiss him, a blistering sort of kiss that left Pete dazed and Lee smirking in satisfaction. “Yeah,” Lee said. he shoved Pete back into Vince’s lap and tugged his legs up over his own thighs, where he proceeded to rub the balls of Pete’s feet.

  “Oh. Damn, that feels good, nugget.”

  “Oh for real?” Lee groused, but he also chuckled.

  After that, Pete was out so fast he didn’t even know what they put on to watch. When he woke, they were all curled in a pile on the huge sectional in the living room. The television was flashing movie ads for On Demand and Lee was snoring softly. He was lying flat out on his back with Vince’s arm slung over his chest. Pete was nestled safely between them, where he decided to stay until the sun came up an hour or so later.

  That woke Vince, and his stirrings woke Lee.

  One by one, they peeled out of the pile, used the toilet, and hovered around the coffee maker Pete had started. No one spoke. Warm sunlight tumbled across the hardwood floors and puddled over their bare feet. The quiet was nice. Comforting.

  It lasted until they all had some caffeine in them, and it was Lee who finally broke it. “I don’t think I can carry any of the heavy stuff,” he said.

  Pete cocked his head, confused.

  “So,” Lee went on, “do we hire someone? Or do you guys know people who can carry boxes down four flights of stairs?”

  “I will carry a thousand boxes for you, bunny,” Pete pronounce, heart soaring to hear what Lee was, in fact, saying by not saying: I need to move my stuff here and live with you.

  “We can convert the guest bedroom a bit,” Pete continued. “Use screens or put up a wall or something so you have enough closet space. I only need a small corner for meditating, and we don’t really have guests anyway. My folks like the B&Bs better than this place, and Vince’s—”

 

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