by Anne Brooke
Neither of them said anything about what they’d shouted, and I thought it would be best for my health and safety, too, if I kept quiet about it. All things considered. Every family had its secrets after all.
Not too much later, they swapped positions and did me again. Johnny was gentler in my arse than he’d been in my mouth, and even Mark took it a little easier as well. I wasn’t complaining. I didn’t really want to end up in hospital trying to explain how the hell I’d got there, plus I wanted to be able to sit down the next day. At some point. And chew food properly.
Mark even touched my cock and let me come all over his hand, whilst Johnny stroked my back and murmured words I couldn’t hear against my neck.
Then we did it again, same way around. As we lay there afterwards, I shuffled sideways so I was on my back between them both. Then I reached out and eased Mark’s mouth down to mine. He seemed to like kissing. I hoped he wouldn’t object to what I had in mind. I opened my lips as wide as possible and his tongue filled me. At the same time, I reached up to Johnny and eased him closer to me as well. I opened my mouth even wider and brought him down so the three of us were kissing, the twins’ tongues exploring me together. One of them groaned, maybe both. I couldn’t tell.
I could feel Mark trembling where I held him. I wondered if they’d ever touched each other like this before, or if this was their first time. It was certainly mine. Like this. And, hell, but it was messy. Saliva dripped down my chin. After a while, I couldn’t tell where my mouth ended and theirs began. It made me feel bloody good, though, the three of us kissing, in bed. Fucking and kissing. Sweaty and hot. I didn’t think I could ever get enough of it.
Eventually, though, the kissing stopped, and they cuddled me for maybe another ten minutes or so. After that, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remembered was the early morning light beating its way into my eyes. I blinked until I was able to focus and then became utterly and incredibly still. Mark was sitting on the bed, fully dressed, with Johnny lurking behind him. On Mark’s lap lay the gun. It was pointing at me.
A long, long moment went by. Then Mark began to talk. Not looking at me, but simply speaking, almost as if to himself.
“Very nice, Liam. Very enjoyable. And I think I speak for my brother as well.” Johnny nodded, but Mark paid him no attention. “I think we both had the best evening with you that we’ve ever had with anyone. I trust you understand. And we’re men of our word, as I’m sure you know. Yesterday, you chose to have sex with us and we promised if it was good enough, then we wouldn’t shoot you. I think I can safely say you passed the test. With flying colors.”
I let out the breath I was holding, and Mark glanced at me and smiled briefly.
“Yes, with flying colours,” he went on, picking up the gun and turning it over and over in his hand. “But it might be that some things, some private things, were revealed last night in the heat of the moment, which it would be better by far in the cold light of day for you to forget. Because neither Johnny nor I would want to have to go back on our promise. Do you understand, Liam?”
“Yes, Mr. Delaney, I understand perfectly well and, believe me, you can rely on me,” I said, nodding my head with vigor. “You can rely on me totally. I’m the soul of absolute discretion. I promise you.”
Mark gazed at me then, his eyes seeming to pierce mine and to search out all my secrets in an instance. He nodded and put the gun down on my bedside cabinet. “Good, because both Johnny and I were hoping you’d see things sensibly. We’ll be on our way then, and leave you to recover. But there is one thing I’d like you to know before we depart.”
“What’s that, Mr. Delaney?”
He shrugged. “We both think Brandon’s a fool. You’re well rid of him.”
And then they were gone. I could hear the heavy tread of their feet making their way toward my front door. I collapsed back onto the bed, thanking all the gods I knew and some I didn’t that I’d come out of this whole thing in one piece.
Then I saw the gun. Bloody hell, it was the last thing I wanted in the flat.
“Mr. Delaney, wait! Please!” I yelled, springing out of bed as naked as the day I was born and edging round the wretched weapon as if it might go off all on its own. Hell, from the little I knew about guns, it might well do, and the Delaneys would have the last laugh in the end. Goddammit.
The footsteps stopped and then came back. Just one set this time. Mark opened the door and stared at me as I hopped round the cabinet gesturing and whimpering. “The gun, sir, you’ve forgotten the gun…”
As I blinked at him, a slow smile spread over his face.
“Keep it,” he said, “as a memento.”
“But, Mr, Delaney, I…”
He swore softly. “Bloody civilians. For God’s sake, Liam, it’s not loaded. It’s not even a bloody gun. It’s a replica. Your boss—the lovely Melissa—can be very persuasive on her employees’ behalf. Don’t forget to thank her when she next pops by the gallery.”
As I stared at him, unable to speak at all, he began to laugh. Deeply and from the belly, as if watching me was the funniest thing he’d seen in years. Perhaps it was. The sound of it echoed through my bedroom and onto the landing. It brought Johnny back into the room and, when he saw me, he began to laugh as well.
Just what I needed—two hysterical twins and one naked idiot. Correction: one naked, loved-up and thoroughly, satisfyingly buggered idiot.
But it wasn’t quite over yet. When the laughter died away, I smiled, too. I picked up the gun and held it out to Mark. Before he took it, I spoke, no more than a whisper really.
“If it’s worthless,” I said, “it does you no harm carrying it around, does it, Mr. Delaney? Unless, of course…”
“Unless?” One eyebrow went up and he cocked his head at me. I couldn’t ever be sure, but I thought Johnny might have winked, too.
“Unless you want to leave it here, sir, so you can come back and claim your property whenever you feel the need? And anything else you might feel like claiming as well. After all, it’s a shame to waste a good set-up, isn’t it? Mr. Delaney, sir? Milk it for all you can get is what I say.”
The twins looked at each other for a few moments. Johnny nodded. Then Mark nodded. I took the gun back, placed it carefully in the drawer. And then? Well, then we all began to laugh.
And that, so you see, is how I messed with the Delaney twins and lived.
Chapter Two
Call me Liam. Not because I’m chasing a whale, but mainly because it’s my name, so it makes sense if you need to attract my attention. But also call me Liam because these days, only a few short weeks after being fixed up, fooled and generally fabulously fucked by the Delaneys, I suddenly found people ’round here didn’t seem to need to ask what my surname was.
This was both a bad and a good thing. By nature, I preferred to keep my head down, in all senses of the phrase, but since I’d found myself in the spotlight of those Delaney twins, keeping a low profile hadn’t been a viable option on any level.
Take last night for instance. What a night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’d worked late at the gallery and didn’t get home till gone seven, my head spinning with picture orders and the new invoice system. An artistic life is so glamorous, you know. Letting myself into the flat, I realized, not for the first time, how empty it was and glanced at the phone. No messages, damn it.
Shrugging off the disappointment and in an effort to prevent my memory from dwelling over matters it was probably wisest to leave behind, I started heating up the stew I’d made the day before. I opened the fridge to see if I had any lager left. I hadn’t. I swore softly and was calculating if I had the energy to nip to the supermarket to get some when my mobile rang.
I was so eager to get to the damn thing to see who might be calling—and more importantly if it might be them—that it slipped out of my grasp and spun across the kitchen floor. Never one to let dignity get in the way of desire, I leapt after it, banging my elbow on the neare
st cupboard, and sliding to a halt near the oven.
I answered it on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Ah, Liam.”
The voice of Mark Delaney entered my ear like a warm breeze on a summer day, or would have done if I’d been at all poetical. As it was, I found myself blushing and remembering the shape of his cock inside me. His brother’s, too. “Mr. Delaney, sir.”
“I trust you have a free evening tonight?”
Sitting up, I leant against the oven. Thankfully, it wasn’t on. “For you, Mr. Delaney, my evening is whatever you want it to be.”
I thought he gasped, but I couldn’t be sure, and when he spoke, his tone was crisp. “Good. There’s a car outside your flat. Get into it.”
“Yes, Mr. Delaney,” I started to say, but he’d already ended the call.
Heart beating fast and cock not that far behind, I switched off the stew, shoved a lid on it and sprinted out into the hallway. Did I have time for a shower or shave? Probably not, as when the Delaneys said jump, you jumped. Don’t even bother asking how high—if it’s wrong, they’ll tell you. I did manage a quick check in the mirror, though, and allocated myself no more than two seconds to smooth down my hair and give myself a thumbs-up. Yes. My evening had definitely taken a turn for the better.
Outside, a black car lurked, glimmering under the streetlight and, when the driver saw me, he got out and waved at the passenger seat. No words needed. I opened the door and slid in, breathing in the smell of leather and money. The driver got back in, still silent, and clicked his seatbelt into place. I didn’t recognize him from before.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Liam—”
“I know who you are.” The man cut across my attempts at the kind of social niceties I was sure my mother would be proud of. “I’m not here to talk. The bosses want you there like yesterday, so I’m going to have to put my foot down. I’m glad you were quick, though, as any more messing around and I would have had to come in and get you.”
For a man who didn’t talk, he got a lot across. One swift glance over at him showed me the shape of the gun under his jacket, so I was glad he hadn’t had to make that house call. Thank God my responses were pretty sharpish.
Seeing I probably wasn’t going to get any more conversation, I relaxed back into the leather, closed my eyes and tried not to get too excited about what the Delaneys might have in store for me. In truth, I hadn’t been entirely sure they would even bother contacting me again after they’d given me their unique brand of personal punishment, no matter what Mark had said when he’d left in the morning, but I was bloody glad they had.
Something inside told me that, even though we’d only had one night of sex, whatever it was we’d started wasn’t over yet. Neither had I any idea how long this whole threesome thing might last and, if it did, just how the hell I was ever going to broach it with my parents, but I was determined to enjoy whatever happened while I could. Never say never, eh?
All these deep philosophical thoughts drifted through my gay-guy head as Mr. Silent drove, completely speechless now, through the town centre and out toward where the posh, rich and/or criminal people lived. Completely the other side of town from me. I gazed out the window and watched the shapes of the houses in the darkness become taller and grander, gaining front lawns, gates and lines of trees as we drove on. I swear, even the way the people walked out here was different, more measured and more in control. I wondered what they’d think of me.
Finally, my wordless chauffeur turned into the massive gates of the Delaney residence, and no there wasn’t any other way to describe it. They were both living proof of the indisputable fact that crime paid. I knew very well I was playing with fire, but hell who doesn’t like to live dangerously every now and again. Anyway, I had no choice: the twins had called, and I’d jumped to it. Bearing in mind our last encounter, I’d be a hundred times more of an idiot than I actually was if I didn’t jump to it.
The car glided to a halt, and the chauffeur leapt out. Assuming this was a sign I was supposed to be super-fast, I leapt out, too. Too damn quickly as it happened because the handle of my door caught the unfortunate driver right in the gut and he fell to the ground with a groan.
The next second, two men rose from the undergrowth and hunkered down on the driveway next to the car, brandishing what had to be guns in my direction. “Freeze!”
I froze, from instinct putting my hands up in the air and from terror gabbling like a child. “Hello, you must be security. Nice work. I’m not doing anything. I just got out of the car, that’s all. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, please believe me.”
“Shut up and turn around. Put your hands behind your head and lean against the car.”
I obeyed at once, hoping I wasn’t going to be killed before I managed to see even one twin. They wouldn’t be happy about that, I could tell. One of the security team frisked me down, finding nothing, of course, apart from a cock the size of a walnut—well, I was more than nervous by then—as the driver staggered to his feet.
“I don’t think he meant it, guys. He just got out of the car, that’s all.”
“I don’t know,” the nearest guard snapped, giving me a quick push and placing the gun next to my cheek. What was it with the Delaneys and guns anyway? “He looked pretty mean to me.”
“What’s going on here?” A soft voice from the direction of the house made everyone stop what he was doing instantly. The chauffeur stood up straight and might even have saluted, but I couldn’t be sure, and the two security guards half turned so they were facing the voice, but still covering me. Just in case I did something stupid, I guess, which, on recent experience, was probably a wise move. The one with the gun pressed against my cheek shuffled his feet.
“Your visitor tried to attack Benjy, Mr. Delaney, sir,” the guard mumbled.
Benjy must be the chauffeur. It wasn’t a name I would have associated with him, but I thought it best not to laugh.
The Delaney twin, whichever one it was, sighed. “I think that’s highly unlikely. Let him go. Turn ’round, Liam.”
The gun disappeared, an act that went partway to steadying my breathing, and I slowly turned to face the man I’d come to see, or one of them anyway. I didn’t expect to recognize which it was, but I knew at once it was Johnny. This made sense, of course, as if Mark had heard a disturbance, he was too important to investigate himself; he’d send Johnny. But I couldn’t be sure of that until I’d seen him. Now I had, I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself round those lean but muscular legs, undo his zipper and bury my nose deep into his groin, and maybe hope Mark might come out to see that kind of disturbance anyway. God knows what that would do to the chauffeur and the ultra-keen guards, but what did I care? Johnny was here, and I was safe.
“Hello, Mr. Delaney,” I whispered as he took the two or three paces needed to come face to face with me. “I came as quickly as I could. I was so keen to see you and your brother, in fact, that I accidentally knocked over your driver with the door. Sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “No need to apologise. Come in.”
Then, with no more words and a mere couple of jerks of his head, he dismissed the guards, propelled the unfortunately named Benjy back into the kick-ass car and began to lead me up into the house. It must be nice, I thought, to have so much personal power that you didn’t even need to speak. Would I could learn some of that talent, which would at the very least please my father.
On the way up to the mansion, as we passed a water feature, a summer house and a half-naked statue of some Greek god or other, I couldn’t help but check out Johnny’s arse. I hadn’t really had the opportunity before and, believe me, it was well worth the checking. So much so when he stopped at the front door, I careened into him and all but knocked him over, too. God, I was classy tonight. Same as any other night then.
“Sorry, Mr. Delaney,” I stammered as he grabbed at the doorframe in order to stay upright. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I was too busy checking you out and…”
I shut up. Even I knew when I’d gone too far and was busy digging my own grave with the nearest spade.
“Sorry,” I squeaked again, head bowed.
To my surprise, Johnny didn’t lash out or call the guards back, guns at the ready for some serious whipping. Instead, I felt the coolness of his finger under my chin as he lifted up my head.
“Always nice to be checked out,” he said. “You nervous?”
Unable to say anything at all, I swallowed and nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Mark likes that. But there’s no need. Just stay calm.”
With that, he let me go, swung around and strode into the house. I followed him, unwilling to let him out of my sight in case anything worse happened to me. I found myself in a hallway you could put two of my flats in and still have room for a neighborhood party. The walls were lined with antique mirrors and pictures of reclining nudes, some male and some female. The carpet was a deep blue and the walls the softest yellow. I was outclassed by some miles here. If I hadn’t known it before, it was obvious now that being a professional criminal was definitely a good career choice; they should offer it in schools.
A click of the fingers told me Johnny was waiting and I hurried to catch up. He stopped at one of the doorways, which was decorated in carved gold creatures that might have been serpents or dolphins, but I didn’t have time for an accurate identification, and then he announced me as if I were a local dignitary expected for a late supper. As if.
“Liam has arrived,” he said.
Telling myself I was a good Irish lad way back somewhere and therefore had no need to be overawed by anything, I stepped into the elegant living room when Johnny waved me on. It was at least three times the length of mine and twice as wide. Instead of my half-price paint mahogany walls and thin cotton curtains, the Delaneys’ place was all cream with gold accessories and the curtains were the richest velvet I’d ever seen. Gold, of course. The whole effect was as if I’d stumbled upon royalty at play, an effect they no doubt wanted to achieve. If the Delaneys had set out to overawe me, hell, it was working.