Brad (Threefold #2)

by Sotia Lazu

“I can’t help myself around you.” He kissed the tip of her nose “Goodnight, babe.” I love you was at the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back for now. If Colin wasn’t going to show on Saturday, Brad would still need to make her day special, so he’d keep his declaration of love to himself till then.

  She turned her back to him, and scootched closer, fitting perfectly into the curve of his body. “Sleep. No more thinking. Gives you wrinkles, and I like my boys smooth.”

  Smooth. Like Colin’s chest. Colin insisted he didn’t wax, but he did something. No way was Golden Boy’s torso naturally hairless. Knowing Colin’s obsession with beauty, Brad wouldn’t put it past him to spend hours making sure he looked flawless.

  Which he did. Brad had seen Colin naked before Friday—they visited the same gym, and Colin wasn’t one for modesty—but he hadn’t exactly been able to study him. It wouldn’t have been kosher to be caught ogling his best friend in the lockers or the showers. Besides, Brad never before had the urge to look, either.

  Liar.

  Okay, maybe once or twice. When Colin opened up about his sexuality, Brad wasn’t shocked, but he couldn’t understand how someone who was interested in smooth creatures with boobs and a pussy could also be interested in hard muscle, wide shoulders, coarse-haired thighs, and…cock. He tried to see what his best friend saw in the male form.

  It was possible he tried too hard, because he’d started recognizing the beauty of the sculpted planes of Colin’s body, if not appreciate them the way he did Becca’s soft curves. Brad told himself he was so secure in his sexuality, he could admit that he found a guy attractive.

  So that guy was his best friend—so what?

  It didn’t mean Brad wanted to fuck Colin.

  It just meant Brad had to hide the mother of all erections when Colin tried to scare him off the threesome by warning him their cocks would rub against each other, their balls slapping together.

  He wiped the sleep from his eyes, and gently disentangled himself from Becca.

  “Where are you going?” she mumbled, half asleep.

  “To get some water. Be right back.” Yup. He’d get a glass of water. And maybe call Colin once more.

  Becca reached for him blindly. “Let the man get some rest, baby. It’s late.”

  She knew him so well, and accepted all of him. Maybe she’d accept his secret fantasies too, if he found the courage to put them into words. Or to even consciously think of them.

  For now, they were fragmented mental images of helping Colin wash his back in the shower. Touching Colin’s thigh. Pumping Colin’s cock and leading it to Becca’s pussy.

  Merely admiring the human form wasn’t a sin, was it? It had been too long since he read the bible, but he’d remember that. Then again, pure admiration didn’t come with lustful thoughts like the ones he entertained, and he was pretty fucking sure those were sinful. As was pretty much everything he did with Becca, so maybe he should stop worrying God cared what Brad did in and out of bed with a willing partner.

  Of either sex.

  Yeah, well, even if God didn’t care, Brad’s mother would.

  He didn’t use a glass. Just opened the faucet and cupped his hand under the running water. He gulped eagerly to sate his thirst, and then splashed some on his face. It did nothing for his burning skin.

  His mother didn’t have to know. Not like they talked about whom Brad had sex with. She was as good at pretending Brad was innocent as he was at pretending the check she gave the church once a year made her a good person.

  And this was a dark path to go down, so he dredged his thoughts back to the question that burned him.

  Was he gay? Was that why he had the thoughts he did for Colin? No straight man wondered how another man’s mouth tasted.

  Then why was he so drawn to Becca? Why did he want to have her as often as possible? It wasn’t overcompensating; a whiff of her perfume was enough to get him hard. He wanted her, and was determined to tell her he loved her. He’d cook her dinner this Saturday, open his heart to her, and then give her her gift—assuming Colin showed up.

  The way she took over for Colin in Brad’s head was a relief.

  He wasn’t gay. Wasn’t fooling himself and his partner. The most possible scenario was that his sexuality, repressed by his strict upbringing, had finally found an outlet in this amazing, wild woman, and he wanted to soak up new experiences. Which made him bi-curious. It sounded better, not that he’d say it aloud. His mother would disown him. And possibly sue the Catholic all-boys school Brad had attended.

  More confusion. He’d never entertained impure thoughts about any of his classmates, and not for lack of opportunity. The communal showers should have clued him in, if he were the tiniest bit into guys.

  So why did he keep calling Colin?

  He returned to bed, hoping to will away his returning erection.

  Sleep would do him some good, but Becca’s warm naked body beside him sent his thoughts back to that apartment with the mattress on the floor and the mirrors on the ceiling.

  Becca’s body wrapped around Colin’s, her pale flesh glowing against his golden skin. His hardness melting into her soft curves. Together they were perfection, and Brad wanted to have them both, at least once.

  Shit.

  Chapter Two

  “Stop checking your phone, and go. You’re already an hour late.”

  Brad looked at Becca stretching on the bed. Her naked shoulder and thigh peeked out from under the covers, and her hair was strewn around her head in a dark, messy halo. Knowing what the sheets kept from him wasn’t conducive to getting his ass to the office, even if he’d spent the greatest part of Sunday in bed with her.

  He should have spent all of Sunday in bed with her. Then he wouldn’t have sent Colin that stupid text.

  “You’re looking at me like I’m breakfast.” Becca rolled on her side, and tucked more of the covers between her legs, revealing a round buttock. How did he ever think he was gay, when he wanted to do unspeakable, wicked things to her ass?

  Maybe he could spare another half hour? “I can see you covered in maple syrup. Or whipped cream.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Messy, but sounds good. I may be convinced, if you throw in a bubble bath afterward.”

  “Deal.” He slid on a dark blue tie, and turned to the full-size mirror to do the knot. This was who he’d been before Becca waltzed into his life in her silly stained overalls and perfect manicure. He’d been Mr. Poised, and she’d been Ms. CrazyPants. Who’d have thought he’d end up head over heels for her—or with her heels by his head within hours of first meeting her outside his company?

  She’d told him she was new in town, and asked if he knew a good cocktail bar. In a surprisingly bold move, he’d invited her to dinner at an Italian restaurant he knew. That first date had been a series of surprises.

  Becca had turned out to be his newest employee. And born and raised right there, in San Francisco. She’d lied, because he was hot, as she admitted. He’d been unable to take his eyes off her lips while she spoke.

  “My place or yours?” she’d asked him before they were done with their starters.

  He’d spluttered, and gone against every principle he’d been brought up with. “Mine.” It was the first time he’d had sex outside a loving, committed relationship.

  He wouldn’t trade it for this world or the next one.

  “My place or yours?” he asked now with a smile.

  “Mine,” Becca said. “Have to spend some time with Ms. Thing, before she goes cat-ninja on my furniture. Say nine?”

  “I’ll bring dinner.”

  “I’ll provide the entertainment.” She inched to the edge of the bed, and he leaned down for a quick kiss. She’d go back to sleep as soon as he was gone. “And give Colin some time. He needs to process things,” she said.

  “He’s a guy, Becca. We don’t take as long to process as you do.” Blatant lie, because Brad was still processing, and probably would be for a while. He considered sending Co
lin another quick text, but what could he say this time?

  He shoved his phone in his back pocket, and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. He was dragging his feet. Though he generally felt reluctant to leave Becca in the morning, it had been a while since he felt this miserable. She’d brought a bounce to his step, and a night with her felt like drinking from the fountain of youth. He only wished Colin felt the same way.

  About Brad’s girlfriend.

  And Brad accused Colin of being a sick fuck.

  Maybe he should go spill his guts to Father Aloysius, and leave the whole mess behind. But that would mean no more fun sexy times with Becca either, and he wasn’t willing to lose that.

  “Give him time. And stop calling him.” Becca’s drowsy voice followed him to the front door.

  “I’ll try.” He got out and locked the door behind him. Becca had her own set of keys. He gave it to her their first week together, completely astonishing both her and himself. But that was Becca. She was astonishing, and he was a new man because of her. One unafraid of his flaws and passions.

  Less afraid, in any case.

  He called the elevator, and pulled out his phone for a quick glance at the time. Not to check if Colin had called or texted and he’d somehow missed it.

  Nothing from Colin.

  And it was a little after nine.

  Shit.

  As general manager of the construction company, Brad could make his own schedule, but he liked going in early, to set an example for employees. He didn’t have to work on actual construction, but ‘early’ still meant eight in the morning. Today he wouldn’t make it there before ten.

  And that didn’t account for the traffic he encountered as soon as he pulled out of the underground parking. Not an unusual phenomenon in San Fransisco, but today in particular, he didn’t want to be stuck in his car with his phone.

  Eh. Resistance was futile. He fished his cell out of his pocket, and pressed the side button to light the screen. Still nothing. Colin was such an ass some times. If he regretted what happened or just meant to write it off, he could at least text back to tell Brad to go screw himself. Or to leave him alone. Or something. Brad thought their friendship merited at least that courtesy. Anything but this damned disappearing act.

  But no. Mr. Colin Daniels was treating Brad and Becca as he would a casual hookup. He wrote off all that came before he did, and deleted the girl’s number.

  In this case, Brad’s number, since he didn’t have Becca’s.

  Brad didn’t tell Becca he suspected Colin was blowing them off. He’d rather let her think Colin was freaked out by the magnitude of what they’d done than tell her his best friend had taken what he wanted and had no more use for them.

  His best friend. The man had been his best friend for six years. They’d shared so much, and now that Brad shared Becca with him, Colin acted like the love ’em-and-leave ’em type he always was. It shouldn’t surprise Brad, but it did.

  More, it pissed him off.

  At the next traffic light, he browsed through his Sent folder, and reread what he wrote the night before.

  Saturday @ 8, we’ll be there. Waiting for you. It’s her birthday, man. If you don’t show, we’ll pretend none of it ever happened. We go back to the way things were. I don’t want to lose you. But we could have so much more.

  The last line had been an afterthought, a spur-of-the-moment thing. Brad hadn’t mentioned it to Becca, because he wasn’t sure what it meant. What was the ‘more’ he offered Colin? When he’d typed the words, they were meant to entice. A verbal nudge and wink for all the good times the three of them could share. But it wasn’t phrased that way. It read like the vague promise of something deeper, and that wasn’t Brad’s to offer.

  He wasn’t certain he could—would—offer it, even if the choice were in his hands.

  He sent, “At least tell me we’re okay, you fucker.”

  There. Non-sentimental guy talk. His phone buzzed almost instantly with an answer. The light turned green, but Brad opened the text, ignoring the honking behind him.

  We’re okay, you fucker.

  Brad snorted, and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. They’d be fine. They might never be naked in the same room again, but they’d be fine.

  And maybe Becca was right, and Colin was still processing.

  * * * *

  As per usual, Sarah fell in step with him the moment he exited the elevator. Part of her formidable assistant powers was the uncanny ability to guess the exact moment he’d show up at work. Either that, or she spent her mornings watching the closed-circuit camera that covered the garage.

  “You’re late.” She crossed her arms. “Your mother has called twice.”

  Brad groaned. “Did you tell her I wasn’t in?”

  “What do you take me for? First time, I said you were on site, and second that you had a meeting.”

  “With whom?”

  “The painting crew.” She bit her lower lip, but not before Brad saw her grin.

  “Nice, Sarah. Might as well have told her I was getting laid.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” This time, she beamed a smile his way. It made her look eighteen.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Your hair is a mess.” It wasn’t. The strawberry-blond, shoulder-length tresses were pulled back in the same perfectly tight bun as always, but the comment got her scattering to the bathroom, and gave him time to sit at his desk and switch on his computer.

  “My hair looks perfect,” Sarah said with a mock scowl when she returned.

  “As does the rest of you.” She was his type, plump and bubbly, but with a killer wit. She also had a girlfriend she adored, and she knew Brad didn’t mean his mock flirting.

  “Yeah, yeah. You can’t touch this.”

  “So what did my mother want?” Indubitably, to bust his balls about something, but he couldn’t think what. Correction—he had some idea, judging from the snide remarks she’d repeatedly made about Becca, but he didn’t have a fuck to spare on his mother’s issues with his girlfriend.

  “She said she needs to talk to you in person. She’ll be by at six.”

  And his day kept getting better. “You couldn’t talk her out of it?”

  “I didn’t try. You’re a big boy; you can handle an hour with your mother.”

  “One of these days, I’ll fire your ass.” Never. At thirty two, she was four years younger than him, but she’d been his mother’s assistant before he took the reins of the company, and she knew the business better than he did.

  “You won’t fire me, ’cause I can anticipate your needs. And right now, you need coffee.”

  Brad watched, as she left his office and closed the heavy double doors behind her. Then he turned his attention to his email, and his mood plummeted. Why couldn’t Mondays be a little slower?

  With the exception of a short break to have his tuna on rye, Brad kept himself busy until a little after four, making arrangements for upcoming projects and resolving issues with current ones.

  His phone stayed quiet, but Colin’s flippant reply to Brad’s pissed-off text had cooled him down. Things were all right between him and Colin. Colin didn’t want to discuss the other night, and that was fine. Brad would stop bugging him about it and trying to convince him to give a repeat performance. He probably shouldn’t have called so many times to begin with. He should have trusted Colin not to be a prick when it came to him.

  And really, Brad was the prick, for setting up Colin in a situation that obviously made him uncomfortable, but nothing would make him regret watching Becca and Colin light the sheets on fire. Yes, he was aware that made him a horrible friend.

  As his workday slowed down, doubt inched its way into Brad’s thoughts. Colin said they were okay, but that would probably be his reply to any chick who kept texting him after they had sex. Brad needed to see him up close, to make sure Colin wasn’t avoiding him, like he would any random one-night stand.

  But they didn’t have sex. Colin had s
ex with Becca. She seduced him with Brad’s blessings, and Colin seemed extremely into it, despite his initial reluctance. Maybe Brad should have given him more time to get used to the idea, before throwing him in an empty apartment with Becca and her irresistible charm.

  That could be the problem—Colin felt forced into it, and was now trying to deal with what he perceived as being used.

  Brad had to talk to him. And not over the phone.

  He looked at the time. Five twenty six. He was supposed to be in the office all day. His mother wouldn’t like being stood up, and he wanted to show her what they’d done with the development in Mosso, anyway. He’d been running the company since she’d passed it to him on his thirty-fifth birthday, but more than a year later, he still felt the need to prove himself to her every chance he got.

  He’d have to pass on that chance today. A bummer, because the apartment building was his best work so far, but Colin would be at the gym at six, if he stuck to his usual schedule.

  “Where are you going?” Sarah jumped in front of him as he neared her desk. “Mrs. Miller will be here in an hour.”

  “Not if you call her now and tell her I had to step out.”

  “You know she doesn’t like it when you cancel.”

  “My mother doesn’t like anything, Sarah. She just accepts things grudgingly, when she’s not presented with another choice.” He held up an index finger, and slipped past her. “Don’t reschedule. Say I’ll call her.”

  “You owe me for this.”

  “Put it on my tab.” He all but ran to the elevator, waving at her over his shoulder.

  Chapter Three

  Brad felt completely out of place at the gym, in his tailored suit and patent-leather shoes. He should have thought to bring a backpack with. At least pretend he was there to work out.

  He made his way through treadmills and stationary bikes, trying not to make eye-contact with anyone. His phone buzzed repeatedly. His mother was probably not happy with the last-minute change of plans. Not his top priority.

  He pushed into the men’s changing rooms, and spotted Colin immediately. He was fresh out of the shower, his wet hair gleaming bronze rather than its usual gold. His back was to the entrance, which gave Brad a couple of seconds to compose himself—and, okay, maybe study the wide back and narrow waist. Becca was right. Objectively speaking, Colin was gorgeous.