by Ts McKinney
“Fucking. It’s called fucking,” Brookes laughed. “I’m sure that’s what happened in the showers.”
Another punch to his gut. “Don’t talk about my boy that way. Jagger would never! Colton would, that’s for sure. I think it was more of a tease. Maybe a peep show. Who knows? Either way, Colton came back even more determined to have a relationship with Jagger.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Not just a relationship,” he corrected. “He loved Jagger. He wanted to marry him. He wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life with him. He wanted, and still wants, Jagger to be holding him when he takes his last breath. Does that make sense?”
“Of course,” Brookes answered with a smile.
“Life separated them again through the college years before fate intervened one final time on Colton’s behalf. It turned out that Colton’s college made it to the championship playoffs, which was a shocker. Of course, Kentucky made it to the championships, which was not a shocker. There’s something called a captain’s bet or some sort of nonsense where each team captain gets to invoke some sort of horror story on the losing team. It’s usually something like having to wear the other team’s jerseys or run naked down the street. Not my Colton, though, his bet was that if Kentucky lost the game, he got a twenty-four hour date with Jagger. Riley was Kentucky’s team captain and he accepted the bet, probably thinking that Kentucky didn’t have a chance of losing.” Landry studied for a second and then amended, “No, I doubt that’s the reason he accepted the bet. Who knows? He says that he saw a spark in Jagger’s eyes whenever Colton’s name was mentioned and he wanted to ‘explore’ that spark a little further.”
Brookes frowned. “So, I assume Kentucky lost the game?”
“Riley threw the game, missed a winning free throw on purpose. Jagger went on his date with Colton and the rest is history.” Sweet, sugar smack history that Landry hadn’t believed existed until he’d witnessed it with his own eyes between Jagger and Colton.
“Damn,” Brookes muttered. “Missed a winning free throw to throw one of his friends to the wolves? Nice.”
“Nu uh. Don’t go trying to make my Cinderella story anything other than what it is—fate. All the stars lined up to get those two together. You wouldn’t believe all the shit that had to happen to get them where they are today. Shit like that doesn’t happen every day, Brookes. Give Cupid some due in this case.”
“Got it. Will do. Cupid scores…even when Riley couldn’t.” He snuggled Landry closer to him. “I like your friends. They’re good people.”
“That, they are. I don’t know how in the hell I got so lucky to have them in my life.” Landry answered before he stopped to consider that the conversation was going in a direction he was totally not comfortable with. Nope. He needed to swing things in another direction. Quick. “Enough about my friends. Tell me something about Jericho Brookes,” he demanded while tracing one of Brookes’ many tattoos with the tips of his fingers. “Give me something. Anything.”
Chapter 10
“Well, well, well,” Rory teased as he set down the bottle of maple syrup and eyed Jagger and Colton as they shuffled into the dining room for breakfast. “Doesn’t somebody look thoroughly fucked?”
Jagger’s cheeks took on the usual pink shade that he sported around Colton’s group of friends, but his mouth sassed back to Rory, “Well, well, well. Doesn’t somebody look thoroughly frustrated.”
“Yes!” Colton complimented his lover with a high five and beaming smile. “You tell him, Wildcat!” Turning to Rory and Riley, he said, “Wildcat nailed you losers. I’ve never seen two more sexually frustrated men in my entire life. One of you needs to cave before you die of celibacy.”
“Hey, Riley, I can teach you if you need some guidance,” Jagger piped in, clearly pleased with himself and his earlier comment. He grew more and more confident with each passing day. Normally, it was something Riley was proud of. Today, maybe not so much.
Eyes narrowing, Riley asked, “Teach me what, Jagger? What is it that you think you could possibly teach me?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
Breakfast was turning ugly…fast.
With a nonchalant shrug, Jagger answered, “Bottoming. I could teach you how to bottom…and how to shoot free throws. I think you could use help in both categories.” He smiled his angelic Jagger smile and added, “Just trying to be helpful, man.”
Riley and Rory looked at each other and then back at Colton. Arguing with Jagger was off limits to them both. They loved the innocent kid way too much to torment him. Colton, on the other hand, was fucking fair game. Rory’s eyes narrowed. “Please tell me, Colton, that the two of you didn’t desecrate my guestroom mattress with your vanilla sex.” He shook his head sadly and made a tsking sound between his teeth. “Poor mattress. It’ll never be the same again.” Looking at Riley, he added, “And what a sad way to go, too. Death by vanilla sex boredom.”
Jagger fidgeted uncomfortably, but apparently didn’t have a smartass comeback ready for that slider. Colton, however, was a different story.
He leaned toward Rory and whispered, “Yeah, listen, I wasn’t going to say anything, but there’s been talk…I haven’t been talking, but there’s been talk between the mattresses of your house and mine.” He glanced from the left to right like he was about to reveal a big secret and then continued, “Supposedly your mattress told my mattress that it wasn’t seeing any action. Hadn’t seen any in quite a while.” He scratched his chin. “What do you think that’s all about?”
Rory growled and sat his flavored coffee down on the table with a thud. “I don’t know, Colton. Hell, I can’t even believe your mattress can talk. I could’ve sworn it was in a coma.” He grinned an evil grin and winked in Jagger’s direction. “Could’ve sworn it was comatose from vanilla boring sex.”
Colton frowned, a serious he-wasn’t-playing-anymore frown. “What the fuck, Rory? What’s with all the vanilla sex comments? You know I don’t vanilla. Never have, never will.” He leaned back in his seat and placed a possessive hand on Jagger’s upper thigh. “Is that the best you can come up with? Vanilla sex comments. That’s just stupid, man. Surely you can do better than that.”
Rory arched a brow in Jagger’s direction, silently willing the innocent of their group to speak now or forever hold his peace. Jagger licked his bottom lip, gnawed on it a moment, and then startled Colton by saying, “Yeah, Rory, what’s with all the vanilla sex comments? Sometimes he leaves the lights on.”
Aaannd, it was like an atomic bomb and detonated right inside Rory’s kitchen. Jagger looked terrified that he’d said something he shouldn’t. It was easy to see how badly he wanted to take it back. Colton looked…devastated. Crushed. Smashed flat like a fly between a fly swat and a shiny window. Riley felt sorry for the poor guy. Sure, they were still struggling and maneuvering around their new friendship, but he wasn’t totally without feelings. No way he enjoyed seeing Colton flattened so brutally. Rory, on the other hand, looked quite pleased with himself.
“Leaves the lights on, eh?” He winked at Colton. “You’re a real tiger, there, man.” He growled like cat woman used to do on the original Bat Man television series. “The next thing you know, you’ll be letting him climb all aboard and ride your cock.” He snorted out a laugh. “Nah, you probably aren’t anywhere close to that, are you?”
“That’s enough, Rory,” Jagger snapped.
The fun was over. Good times had turned bad.
Turning to Colton, Jagger said, “Rory’s just playing, Colton. Drop it. I shouldn’t have teased you that way. You know how happy I am.”
“Uh huh. I know how happy you are. I know how much you love me,” Colton said, his voice low and shaky. It sounded like it was somewhere between a growl and a whimper. “Neither of those things have a goddamned thing to do with how satisfied you are in the bedroom. Something you need to tell me, Wildcat?”
“Let’s go, Rory. This isn’t our business.” Riley said. “We’ve got detective work to do,
anyway.” When Rory didn’t make a move to get up, Riley thumped him on the back of the head. Hard. Rory yelped. “I said, let’s go. Get up off your ass, grab your laptop and let’s head out to the pool. Shake your ass.”
Colton and Jagger were just staring at each other. Rory looked like he felt like a piece of shit. He probably wasn’t comfortable with throwing Jagger to the big bad Colton wolf. Riley knew he hadn’t known any facts. Jagger hadn’t said or implied the first fucking thing to him about what was going on in the bedroom between him and Colton, but Rory obviously knew his best friend. Colton was holding back, maybe because he was afraid that Jagger couldn’t handle more. Apparently,
Rory had hit the nail flat ass on the head because Colton’s looked like his heart was smacking around the room like it was in the middle of a pinball machine.
Rory shook his head, maybe regretting what he’d done, but not looking sorry he’d done it. He grabbed his laptop and followed Riley toward the door. Before going out, he turned back and said, “Hey, Landry’s here, right?” He glanced up the stairs. “It isn’t like him to sleep late like this. He’s usually the first one out of bed.”
Colton’s green gaze never wavered from Jagger’s worried blue eyes. “Brookes is with him.” He shrugged. “Guess they’re up there having some nonvanilla sex or something as equally wicked…and the opposite of what I’m obviously doing in the bedroom.”
“Stop, Colton. You’re overreacting to us kidding around.”
Jagger started to stand up and get him some pancakes, but stopped dead cold with Colton’s icy tone and softly spoken, “Sit.”
“Fuck! Brookes is in my house?” Rory roared, once again ignoring the palpable friction between Jagger and Colton, the friction he’d caused with his vanilla bombshell. “Who invited him? I thought we were all in agreement that we didn’t trust him!” Then his eyes widened even more. “And he’s in bed with Landry? Landry doesn’t allow sleepovers, doesn’t share a bed for anything but fucking.”
“Come on, Rory. The fact that Brookes is here, with Landry, tells me that we’ve got to really dig into this research project. Leave Colton and Jagger to it.” Riley started to walk outside, his hand wrapped tightly around Rory’s wrist, when he paused and looked back at Jagger. “You okay, kid? Need me?”
Colton growled with fury.
****
“You know better than that, Riley. Colton and I are good,” Jagger answered. He loved his friend but that was probably the worst possible comment that he could’ve made.
Riley grinned. “Yeah, but I do love to hear his growl.” To Colton, he said, “Watch your shit, Colton. I’m right outside the door.”
Jagger rolled his eyes and gripped Colton’s thigh to keep his lover from launching himself across the room to tackle Riley to the ground. He was beginning to wonder if two of the most important people in his life were ever going to be able to treat each other civilly for more than thirty minutes at a time. Fuck it, he didn’t care how they felt about each other, they were going to get their shit together and learn to love each other. Jagger had spent most of his life completely alone, fighting through the easy shit and the not so easy shit all by his lonesome because he refused to let anyone inside. Those days were behind him. Colton was his entire world but his friends were a close damned second place so they’re going to love one another…even if it killed them.
When the French doors closed, Jagger said, “He’s just playing you, babe. He knows you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” He tried for a grin and added, “He knows I’d kick your ass if you did.”
****
Colton snorted. “I’d like to see you try, Wildcat. You know I can have you on your back and purring in record time.” His hand reached out to palm the back of Jagger’s neck, holding him tightly in a way that always seemed to calm Jagger’s wild nerves. Fuck, somebody needed to do the same for him. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he’d gotten the distinct impression that he wasn’t satisfying his lover in the bedroom. This was the second time in one week that this feeling had crept inside his head. He didn’t like it.
What. The. Fuck.
“I love you, Wildcat. You know this, right?” he whispered as he stared straight into Jagger’s beautiful blue eyes. Fuck, but those incredibly long lashes got to him every damned time – went straight to his heart and cock. Boom! Caused desire and love to ricochet around inside him like a stray bullet. His cat had the most gorgeous eyes – all wide, blue, and fringed with those long lashes. They’d darken in shade when he was aroused or angry. They’d be lazy and hooded when he was lost in passion. In the mornings, they were bright and breathtakingly revealing. With sleep still lingering, he didn’t have time to try and put up all those ice capades he’d used his entire life to protect himself. In the mornings, it was all Jagger, open and exposed. That was Colton’s favorite, it was something Jagger shared only with him. Even with the friends he was learning to love and trust, Colton knew that Jagger kept a part of himself tucked away. He knew he was selfish for wanting to keep that beauty all for himself, but he also knew he was okeydokey with that weakness lingering in his closet. Wildcat was his. Always had been.
Fuck, those eyes. He fucking loved them. For the briefest of seconds, he wondered how Jagger would look with some dark eyeliner accenting those beauties. Some manliner would only make him even more gorgeous, make the blue stand out even brighter. It would give him an edge, just a hint of naughtiness lurking behind the innocence. Colton felt his cock perk up at the image. With iron willpower, he stamped it back down. That shit wasn’t Jagger. His boy was all sugar and spice and everything nice.
And Colton loved every damned thing about him.
“I know you love me, Colton. You know I love you. You fought for me when nobody else would, including me.” Jagger edged closer to Colton, their lips almost touching. “You’re my everything, Colton.” He paused and took a deep, steadying breath. “I…I want to be your everything.”
Colton frowned, confused. “I don’t understand? You are my everything.” He chuckled. “Hell, you were my everything way before you even knew it. You were the headliner to all my wicked fantasies and jack off material. Why in the hell could you not know this? After everything?”
Jagger nibbled at his lip, like he always did when he was nervous. Why would he be nervous? What in the hell was going on? How had they gotten here? Colton tugged and pulled until he had a squirming Jagger seated on his lap. He knew Jagger wasn’t particularly fond of being manhandled, but just this one time, Colton was going to have to piss him off. He needed to feel him against him, needed to feel Jagger’s heart beating against his own. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it was starting to scare him.
“You know I think I look stupid when you make me sit in your lap, right?” Jagger asked impatiently when he finally stopped squirming. “I’m as big as you are, babe.”
“Correction, Wildcat. You’re almost as big as I am.” Colton teased playfully, but his heart was still thundering nervously in his chest. “Anyway, I need this. Okay? Can you suffer a few minutes for me? Let me hold you?”
Jagger answered, “Let me go for a minute.” When Colton relinquished his hold, Jagger swiveled around until he was straddling Colton’s lap. It was a much more sexual position. “This okay?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“This is always okay, Wildcat,” Colton answered as he leaned forward to catch Jagger’s lips in a sweet kiss. When their lips parted, Colton jumped straight into the problem at hand with, “So, apparently, we have some problems in the bedroom?”
The famous Jagger blush crept up his neck and then covered his cheeks. Blue eyes dropped down, but then jumped back up again. Good, he was going to be brave, meet the issue head on. Colton liked that. He didn’t like the fact that they were having problems, mostly because he hadn’t been aware of them, but he was proud that Jagger was comfortable enough to not try to hide.
“No, no problems. I’m always satisfied.” The blush deepe
ned. “I think that should be pretty apparent, right? I make all those stupid wimpy noises that you love so much, so you have to know how much I’m enjoying myself.”
Colton smiled. “I do love those sounds. Fuck, those are the best fucking sounds in the fucking world.” That comment earned him another eye roll from Jagger, but he could tell his Wildcat was still holding something back from him. “What is it, babe? What’s going on with you? I can tell you’re wanting to say something but…a Wildcat’s got your tongue.”
“Hardy har-har,” Jagger answered. “You’re such a nerd and a pathetically bad comedian.” He took a deep breath and plunged forward. “Let’s start with the house hunting.” He fought for just the right words. Hurting Colton was the last thing he’d ever want to do so he needed to tread carefully. He knew just how determined Colton was to make everything perfect for him, to give him exactly what he thought Jagger wanted. The problem being just that—what Colton thought Jagger wanted, not what Jagger thought he wanted or needed. If he wasn’t careful, Jagger knew that Colton would spend his entire life catering to Jagger’s needs without ever giving any consideration to what might make Colton happy.
Colton frowned. “House hunting? What do you mean? I thought we were going to talk about sex. You know ‘let’s talk about sex, baby, let’s talk about you and me’ stuff. I don’t see where in the hell house hunting could fit into the conversation I thought we were about to have.”
Jagger’s mouth twisted to the left and then the right. “Let’s look at some Victorian houses this week. Maybe one on this block. We could be close to Rory.” He shrugged. “Come over here every day and borrow his swimming pool and eat his food.”