Full House: Three of a Kind, Book 3

by Jess Dee

  God, he loved Trev. No, he hadn’t meant to express his feelings yet. He’d intended to take it slow, one step at a time, but lost in Trev’s body like this, lost in the perfection of their lovemaking, he’d let the words slip out as naturally as breathing.

  Trev grabbed his neck and pulled his head down for a blistering kiss. They kissed and kissed and kissed, Max inside Trev, Trev’s cock caught between them. They kissed until the pressure built in Max’s balls and he had to pull away and thrust deep, over and over again.

  He stared into Trev’s eyes, every iota of emotion he felt pouring from his soul.

  Trev smiled then. A smile so wide, so uninhibited, Max’s heart soared. “I love you too,” he said.

  That was all it took. The floodgates opened. Max could no longer stop, no longer wanted to. He drove into Trev with all the love and happiness he felt, pounding into him.

  His cock was so hard, his balls so tight, he knew relief was just a moment away. But relief without Trev was nothing. He wrapped a hand around the man’s rock-hard shaft and tugged. It didn’t take much—a series of tight, hard pulls and Trev came with a howl. Rope after rope of semen landed on his chest. Trev’s ass clenched in time with his spurts, yanking on Max’s dick, milking him.

  Watching his lover come in his hand, with Max’s dick in his ass, did him in. Max exploded. Jets of come shot from his balls, through his shaft and streamed into the condom, filling it. Six weeks of repressed need escaped.

  He came and he came until he had nothing left to give, and then, still buried in his lover’s ass, he collapsed on Trev’s chest, utterly spent.

  The very last thing he expected to hear was a feminine gasp, followed by frantic footsteps and the slamming of a door.

  “What the fuck was that?” he rasped.

  With a tortured groan, Trev slapped his hand over his forehead. “That, lover, was the complication we needed to speak about.”

  “So you fucked her?” Max asked, his face curiously blank. Still naked, he leaned against the bathroom vanity, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “No.” Somehow, when it came to Grace, fuck didn’t enter the picture. It was too coarse a word. Too cold. Nothing like the woman.

  Water cascaded over Trev’s shoulders, washing away the soap he’d scrubbed himself with, wiping away every last trace of sweat, come and lube from his body.

  It might be the shortest shower he’d ever taken, but it was effective. Trev was clean. Dripping wet, he stepped from the cubicle and swore as he stubbed his toe. Pain flashed through his foot, but he ignored it and grabbed his towel from the rack. He had to get dry and get his ass into Grace’s room. He had a lot of explaining to do.

  He had a lot of explaining to do to Max also. Well, a lot more explaining, anyway.

  The last thing he felt like doing was talking. After what had just happened between him and Max, what Max had just told him, all he wanted was to curl up into Max’s warmth and love and sleep. For hours. Or maybe for just long enough to revive his strength before making love again.

  Instead he was stuck in a situation of his own making.

  “You fucked her with your mouth,” Max corrected.

  Trev nodded. He wasn’t about to lie or keep secrets. Not when he loved Max. Not when his evening activities with Grace had blown his mind and his equilibrium, and he was pretty damn sure he loved her too. “Wanting her like I do knocked me sideways, I can tell you that.” He lowered his towel and stepped close to Max. So close their thighs touched. And their dicks. “I never expected to feel this way about her. Not when I feel so much for you.”

  Trev’s cock twitched from the contact alone. And the scent. Max hadn’t yet showered. He smelled of sex. And of Max. And of Trev. He smelled so damn fine Trev was tempted to drop to his knees and inhale Max whole.

  But he couldn’t. He had to get to Grace.

  Besides, Max’s body had turned rigid when Trev mentioned his feelings for Grace.

  “For months you’ve been the only one I want. I fucking hated it when you were away,” Trev told the other man.

  Max raised an eyebrow.

  “Know how many times I jerked off to images of us making love, like we just did?” Trev asked.

  Max shook his head. “No.”

  “Every freaking night,” Trev admitted. “And most mornings too,” he added with a grin.

  Max’s eyes became hooded and his cock shifted against Trev’s, but his tone remained impartial as he asked, “What about…Grace? You jerk off to fantasies about her as well?”

  Trev stilled. “I did.”

  Max stiffened further, his muscles tensing against Trev.

  “I jerked off to fantasies about both of you.” He was taking a chance being this honest. Max might listen to what he had to say, then turn his back and walk away. “I came imagining I was making love to her, and I came imaging you were making love to me. And I nearly fucking bust a nut imagining both of us taking Grace at the same time.”

  Max grimaced. “Don’t be shy to tell me what you really fantasized about.”

  Trev shook his head. “I’m not shy.” Nervous about Max’s reaction, perhaps, but not shy. “Wanna know the one that had me shooting halfway across the room it had me so fucking horny?”

  Max didn’t answer. Nor did he walk away.

  “Me making love to Grace while you made love to me.” Trev closed his eyes, all too easily visualizing the scenario. “Christ, imagining the three of us together? Watching my cock in her pussy, her juices all over me?” Trev licked his lips. “Feeling you in my ass and hearing your rough panting? Jesus, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

  This time Max did respond. He shoved Trev away from him, knocking him off-balance. “I just fucking told you I love you. I’m not interested in your fantasies and feelings about some woman.”

  Trev grabbed at the vanity so he didn’t fall over. “I love you too. So much I hurt from it. Knowing you love me?” He couldn’t help it. He smiled. “I swear, Max. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.” Even now, aware that Grace was probably dazed and confused, he wanted to throw his head back and laugh out loud with the sheer joy of being loved by Max.

  Max narrowed his eyes. “You love me and you’re happy, yet you still want to fuck your new housemate? You still think you’re falling in love with her?”

  “I do.” Trev tackled Max’s second question first, then deliberated the first question. Was Max jealous? The idea made Trev grin wider. “I want to make love to Grace. I want you to make love to her too. I want us all to make love.”

  “Sounds great, Trev.” Max’s face shut down. “Maybe we can all make love. Maybe we can do it in a giant field of poppies, with music from Woodstock playing all around. Free love for all. Sounds real great. Sounds perfect, in fact.” Max threw the shower door open and turned on the water. “Just fucking perfect.”

  Trev stopped him before he stepped inside the cubicle. “Don’t judge me. Not yet. Wait until you’ve met her.”

  “And then what? I’ll magically be okay with the man I love screwing someone else?”

  “And then we can take it one step at a time. See what happens.” Hell, there were no absolutes here. Just because Max met Grace didn’t mean he’d feel the same instant attraction Trev did. But something told Trev one meeting was all it would take. Max would fall as hard as Trev had.

  Not that any of that mattered. Grace was more than likely packing her bags right this second, doing everything in her power to get away from this house and the bastard who’d gone down on her and then slept with his boyfriend.

  Trev might know what he wanted: Max and Grace, but his chances of getting them both were slim to zero. But then who would have thought Max would come out and tell him he loved him? Maybe, just maybe, miracles could happen.

  Again Max didn’t respond. He simply closed himself in the shower with a grimace and ducked his head under the spray.

  Conversation over.

  Or not. Trev opened the shower door
. “Max?”

  It took a while before Max met his gaze.

  “No matter what happens, no matter how this turns out, know one thing. I love you. I’m hooked. For life. So whether or not you want me, I’m yours. Got it?”

  Max glared at Trev with those big baby blues of his. God, Trev loved those eyes.

  “Mine and Grace’s?” Max asked.

  Trev sucked in his cheeks. “I’d like to be.”

  Silence ensued.

  “Max?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  Max didn’t answer. He just sighed. A long, heavy sigh.

  “Do you love me?” Trev asked.

  Max’s voice was hoarse when he answered. “You know I do.”

  He did know. Max had told him in a million different ways tonight. “Enough to do me one favor?”

  Max frowned at him from beneath the shower spray.

  Trev waited.

  “Run it by me,” Max finally said.

  “Meet her. Give her a chance.”

  Max bit his lower lip.

  “There’s something about her. Something…irresistible.”

  Max didn’t respond, although he did appear to be considering it.

  “I swear, if I didn’t think you’d feel it too, I wouldn’t push,” Trev said. “It may just be a gut feeling, but it’s there. Every instinct tells me you’ll like her just as much as I do.”

  Silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a silence nevertheless.

  “Max?”

  Max closed his eyes. The slight movement of his head was all the confirmation Trev needed. One nod was Max’s consent.

  He popped into the shower, grabbed Max’s neck, pulled his face close and kissed him. “You won’t regret it. I promise you.” He kissed him one final time, closed the door and pivoted around to begin his hunt for Grace.

  Luckily he had perfect hearing, otherwise he might not have heard Max’s mumbling over the hiss of the shower. “Just my luck to fall in love with a lawyer. Man’ll talk me into anything.”

  Chapter Four

  Grace’s hands shook violently. So violently she’d had trouble grasping the handle. It had taken three attempts before she’d finally opened the door and lurched into the relative safety of her bedroom, closing herself in.

  The panties she’d clasped in her fingers fell to the ground. Her breath still came in unsteady gasps. Not surprising, seeing as she’d hardly inhaled since she’d walked into Trev’s room. She’d stood rooted to the spot, shocked speechless, and watched as a man slammed into the guy she thought she might be losing her heart to.

  A man?

  She’d watched as that same man confessed his love for Trev. The words emerging soft and sweet in a voice wrapped in silk. So soft and sweet they’d tumbled over her skin like a million drops of pleasure. And like a million sharp needles, every one of them stabbing at her, piercing her flesh as they cascaded downward.

  The vicious jabs she could deal with. It was the heartfelt response from Trev that had threatened to suffocate her. The I love you too that had cut off her air and clogged her lungs.

  She needed to sit before she fell over, but her bed was a thousand miles away. Too far to reach on such shaky legs. She sank to the ground in a boneless pile.

  A man? Trev was in love with another man?

  Oh God. OhGod, ohGod, ohGod ,ohGod!

  Gooseflesh erupted up her spine.

  She shoved a hand over her mouth to stop the scream that threatened to escape, but almost choked on the awfulness of the situation.

  Air. She needed air. Needed to breathe. To think.

  Hard. Too hard to think.

  Too hard to do anything but sit, shaken all the way through to her bones.

  A man! Not a woman as she’d first feared when she’d heard the muffled moans. A man. With a penis. Just like Trev.

  No wonder there were so many clothes scattered through the lounge. They weren’t all Trev’s.

  Spots danced before her eyes and she dropped her head on her knees.

  She imagined Trev’s mouth. The mouth that had brought her such intense pleasure just a few short hours ago. The mouth that had kissed her and caressed her before devouring her. Before bringing her to orgasm twice within minutes. The mouth that had her so off-balance she’d hardly been able to see her blind date clearly—every time she’d looked at his face, she’d seen Trev.

  The same mouth that was probably still glued to another man’s lips even now.

  How long had she watched them? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

  So focused were the men on each other, they’d been oblivious to her. Oblivious to her jaw dropping, to the heart that pounded so loud her pulse roared in her ears. Oblivious to the woman who watched every action with a mixture of betrayed hurt and captivated curiosity. A woman who didn’t know whether to rant against Trev for leading her on, punch him for being something she’d never have considered, or shove her hands under her skirt to relieve the ache that pounded between her legs with an aggression that left her winded.

  Even now the choices were staggering. Overwhelming.

  Grace closed her eyes and breathed. Just breathed. For a very long time. Or maybe for a second.

  A knock on her door tripled her heart rate. The last thing she needed now was Trev coming to talk to her. Or worse—Trev’s lover.

  She held her breath. Maybe if he couldn’t hear her, he’d just go away. Maybe he’d think she was sleeping.

  Hah. Sleeping? At a time like this? She doubted she’d ever be able to close her eyes again, because if she did, all she’d see were images of Trev being thoroughly fucked.

  “Gracie? Can I come in?”

  Damn it. That voice. So gentle. So compelling. So deep and manly. How on earth could a man with such raw sexuality, with such vivid masculinity, allow another man to do that to him?

  Hypocrite. Given half a chance, she’d have allowed Trev to do that to her. She’d have begged Trev to do that.

  Yeah, but she was a woman. A member of the opposite sex.

  Damn it, why hadn’t Hunter warned her? Told her she’d be living with a man who…who favored other men. A…gay man.

  And since when did the idea of two men together set her body on fire? Make it burn with a heat that wouldn’t cool down?

  “Don’t lock me out, Gracie. Please. We need to talk.”

  Talk? Now he wanted to talk? What about earlier, when his mouth had been attached to her pussy? Or before? When the electricity was down and he didn’t have to face her in the glaring light? Surely that would have been a better time for conversation?

  “I know you’re not sleeping, sweetheart.”

  Why did his voice have to sound so sincere, so…hurt? Almost as if he was the one suffering.

  “I’m going to come in now. I’m going to open the door and walk into your room.” There was a short pause. “Don’t throw anything at me, okay?”

  Damn it! Why’d he have to make her smile when that was the last thing she felt like doing?

  The door handle turned. Good grief. He was coming in.

  Grace scrambled to her feet. He already had her at a stunned disadvantage. She wasn’t about to give him another one.

  Was he alone? Dressed? Did he have semen dripping down his chest? That’s where it had landed when he’d come in that man’s hand. And on his belly. And on the fingers wrapped around his dick.

  Those should have been her fingers. Not his. Yet the thought of them belonging to him filled her pussy with liquid heat.

  Trev walked in carrying the scent of soap with him. Fresh and clean. Nothing like the sharp, musky aroma of sex that had permeated the air in his room. That was a smell unlike any she’d encountered before. A combination of cologne, male sweat and something else. Something darker and heavier than her usual associations with sex. Probably because the act she’d witnessed was darker than any sexual act she’d ever participated in.

  Trev’s chest was spotless. It was also shirtless, and the light
played against his golden flesh, outlining the six-pack on his stomach. His hair was wet, he wore a pair of boxers and his cheeks were redder than usual. Post-orgasmic bliss or embarrassment?

  To her surprise, he didn’t launch into apologies. “You’re shocked,” was all he said.

  “You’re gay,” she answered, accusation rife in her voice.

  Trev flinched. “I like men.”

  “You kissed me. All over.” Men who liked men didn’t kiss women where Trev had kissed her.

  “I like women too. I like you. A lot.”

  “You’re…bi?”

  How would her parents react if they knew? The thought filled her belly with cold dread. Thank God she hadn’t found this out before she’d described Trev to them. Thank God she’d only told them he was a fun, lovely man. And thank freaking God she hadn’t mentioned he was the exact kind of guy she could fall, and probably had already fallen, head-over-heels in love with. Her folks would be having an apoplexy right about now.

  Trev inhaled sharply. “I prefer not to label my, er, sexual preferences. I don’t think of myself as gay or straight or bi. I’m just a man attracted to men and women.”

  “At the same time?”

  Trev lifted his hands, looking helpless. “Never before. But with you and Max…it’s different.”

  Ah, so the other man had a name. “Max?”

  “My…uh…” His expression softened, his eyes grew warm and gooey. “My lover.”

  A shiver slid down her back. The idea of a man referring to another man as his lover? Her parents would freak out. For sure.

  But hadn’t she thought about Max as Trev’s lover? The shiver flickered through her spine, rippling along every nerve ending, like a tiny spark of awareness. A shiver of aversion…or arousal?

  Definitely not arousal! The thought of Trev with a man did not turn her on. It turned her evening’s fantasies into bad dreams.

  Bad dreams filled with long, muscled legs. Four of them. And asses of steel. Two of them—one of them being relentlessly pounded by a long, hard dick. A dick she suspected would feel spectacular in her own…

  No, it wouldn’t.

  No way was she closing her eyes tonight. Not a chance would she expose herself to the risk of those dreams.