Rocking to his toes once more, he tried to hold back, to restrain himself from shoving his cock all the way down Patrick"s throat, but Patrick wasn"t cooperating. He gripped Brandon"s ass and forced him forward, his sensitive head brushing Patrick"s soft palate before the muscles in his throat clamped down around him.
Good Christ Almighty, Patrick was deep-throating him. His free hand fisted in Patrick"s hair, his body bucking, his legs trembling as Patrick sucked a spine-bowing orgasm right up out of his very soul. He shouted Patrick"s name as his body shuddered, racked with pleasure. Patrick swallowed every drop Brandon had to offer as pulse after pulse of cum roared from his body.
Brandon stayed like that for a long while, only releasing his grip on Patrick"s head when Patrick drew back and bestowed a soft kiss on the crown of Brandon"s cock.
Patrick lingered there, his eyes still closed, while he hugged Destiny to his heaving chest.
Then he smiled with pure, smug happiness.
Destiny lay across Patrick"s chest, panting as if she"d run a marathon, and tried to recover her scrambled brains. Sex with Patrick was always hot. Watching Patrick suck Brandon off had very nearly blown her mind.
Wow.
Finding enough energy to lift her head, she pressed her mouth to Patrick"s, her body clenching as she tasted Brandon"s essence on his tongue.
Tearing her mouth from his with a gasp, she pulled Brandon down and thrust her tongue between his lips, forcing him to stumble off the damn step stool, of all things.
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She hummed with pleasure when he righted himself, cupping her face and returning her attentions.
By the time the kiss ended, her body was stirring, coming back to life. She could also feel the bone-deep exhaustion of a short night"s sleep followed by a long, stressful day dragging at her. Unsure which of her body"s demands to follow, her decision was made for her when she saw Brandon"s face crease with concern, his eyes darting to the front of his house.
She could practically see him picturing Patrick"s truck in his driveway.
Standing, she whimpered as Patrick"s shaft slipped from her body. Brandon"s concerned gaze returned to her and she took willing advantage.
“I need a shower. Come on.” She grabbed Brandon"s hand and pulled him with her, smiling over her shoulder as Patrick rose to follow. She tried to yank her skirt back down over her bare bottom and garter belt, but the effort was futile. Instead, she shed her blouse and bra on the stairs, making Brandon laugh as Patrick followed, plucking up the pieces before Farley could get to them.
There were two showers in Brandon"s house but she didn"t hesitate before going to his room and into the master bath. She saw Patrick close the bedroom door behind them and knew he had no intention of leaving this room tonight either.
Reassured that Patrick would keep Brandon from another heroic attempt at saving them all, she slipped into the shower. It was a tiny corner stall with close glass walls.
She wished it was big enough to invite the boys to join her, but she wasn"t sure Patrick would fit in it all by himself, let alone with company.
She washed up quickly, cursing men and their total lack of respect for conditioner, even while being grateful that it meant her time away from the boys was that much shorter.
She knew Brandon. She knew he was thinking too hard. It was only a matter of time before he decided they had to go. She wanted to be settled in for the night, or at least settled into another bout of…distraction…before the conviction took hold.
She barely dried herself before returning to the bedroom, stark naked and refreshed. Patrick smiled at her as she strolled to the bed and climbed in, pulling the soft duvet up to her ribs and propping herself against the headboard.
Brandon stood mute, his indecision plain. Patrick went to him, winking at her from beyond Brandon"s shoulder then more or less shoving their friend into his bathroom and ordering him to shower and get ready for bed.
Brandon"s lack of protest reassured her, even if the look on his face did not.
She and Patrick didn"t speak the entire time Brandon was in the shower, though Patrick did come to sit on the edge of the bed and hold her hand. They waited, wondering if Brandon was marshalling his arguments.
Farley flopped down in a corner, letting out a deep sigh of resignation.
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She suppressed her guffaw when Brandon emerged five minutes later with a t-shirt and boxer shorts covering his beautiful body. She wondered if he was going to attempt to get completely dressed and if he honestly thought he"d stay that way for long. He didn"t, though, make any move to add more layers, but stopped in the middle of his room and stared at her tucked in his bed. Patrick gave her a last look, their understanding perfect, and retreated to the shower.
She gave serious consideration to being hurt that Brandon didn"t move, didn"t immediately join her, but she let it go.
Brandon had always been the most noble of them. The most honest, the one willing to sacrifice for what he thought was right. It was why he was such a good cop. It was why he"d felt he had to out himself to his coworkers, despite the consequences. If she were honest with herself, she might have clung to her privacy longer, until she had proof that she had to give up her most personal information for the sake of the investigation.
But not Brandon.
It was one of the many reasons she loved him. It was one of the reasons Patrick did too. She could not lament what she would not change, even while she watched the anxiety crawl across his features and his eyes return to the front window and Patrick"s truck hidden beyond the shades.
When she couldn"t take it any longer, she sat up and held out her hand just as Patrick returned. Naked, he stopped with his hands on his hips and studied Brandon, still standing there looking conflicted. Rolling his eyes, Patrick grabbed Brandon, spun him around, stripped his shirt off, yanked his shorts down and more or less stuffed him in the bed next to her before climbing in and grabbing them both.
It was only a full-sized mattress, so it was certainly cozy.
Brandon made sounds of protest but Patrick pulled him back against his chest and told him to shut up. Then Patrick turned off the light.
Destiny smiled against Brandon"s chest as she snuggled down under the covers.
She"d have gone about it a bit more subtly than Patrick, but he managed to achieve the same goal.
Once again, Patrick held onto both of his lovers for dear life.
Christ, it had been a long day, but it felt good to be here with them, even if this freaking tiny bed felt like the naked adult version of the clown car. How did Brandon bring women, let alone men, home with him to this thing? There was no room to move, to flip over, roll around, let alone get creative.
The idea of Brandon getting creative with someone other than himself or Destiny made him hold on tighter . Brandon"s body practically vibrated with the need to do something, something no doubt decent and righteous and best for all of them, but Patrick wasn"t going to let him do it.
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He had no fucking idea how he was going to pull this off, how he was going to manage keeping his private life private now that Brandon was decidedly out, whether he liked it or not. But he was going to try. More than try. He was determined to succeed.
Lifting his head from the pillow, he could see Destiny peering up at him from where she pressed her face to Brandon"s chest. Her fingers stopped doodling little figures on his hip long enough for her to smile at him. Not that he could see her lips beneath the horizon of Brandon"s bruised shoulder, but he recognized the glimmer in her eyes. He smiled back, reassured that he had one ally.
For now. She was going to flip when she figured out he wasn"t just in this for some sexual adventure. That he was thinking about playing for keeps.
Christ. He faced more hurdles than the summer fucking Olympics.
Dropping his head back to the pillow, he let the drag of t
he day ease him toward sleep. He"d no more than closed his eyes for a second when Brandon sat bolt upright, nearly tossing both him and Destiny over the sides of the narrow mattress. Before either could do more than hang on, Brandon was vaulting over him and out of the bed.
Patrick tried not to be pissed, but it was going to be a long night if he had to chase an errant lover all over Boston.
“Where the fuck are you going?” he demanded.
Brandon stared down at them from the side of the bed and Patrick could hear it coming before Brandon"s lips moved. “You both have to go.”
“No,” he and Destiny said in unison. Firmly. Patrick didn"t look back, layering his hand over hers where it came to rest on his chest.
“Jesus, Patrick. Grow up! We can"t leave your truck in my driveway all night.” It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Brandon he was paranoid, but he remembered the look on Carter"s face as he"d gossiped by the water cooler.
Damn.
He knew Brandon was right. But he also knew he didn"t want to go home. He didn"t want to sleep without either of his lovers. On that he was perfectly clear.
So how was he going to achieve that?
Before he could decide what the fuck to do, Brandon began pulling on clothes.
Panic clutched at him as he watched Brandon yank on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
“Fine,” Brandon said, his tone aggrieved. “I"ll take care of it.” He shoved his feet in an old pair of running shoes then turned to Farley. “Come on, boy. Let"s go out.” Farley, delirious at hearing his favorite word, leaped to his feet and danced out the door on Brandon"s heels. Brandon didn"t exactly storm from the room, but there was no mistaking he was pissed.
Sitting up, Patrick looked down at Destiny. “What am I supposed to do?” Her look of sympathy didn"t make him feel better. “I have no idea.” 126
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That didn"t make him feel better either.
The distinct sound of his truck engine turning over reached them. He looked at Destiny wide-eyed. “What the fuck is he doing?”
She shrugged, clearly as baffled as he.
“If he goes to my house, with my dog, and leaves us here, I swear to god I"ll spank him.”
There was no mistaking the shiver that ran across Destiny"s skin or the meaning in her smile as it slowly spread across her face. “That I"d like to see.” He smiled back, laughing in spite of the absurdity of their situation. He could almost picture the quiver of Brandon"s firm ass cheek as his hand made contact. His smile turned into a grin when he imagined what Brandon would say if he knew Patrick was even contemplating it.
Now that he’d like to see.
His smile faded when the front door squeaked, closing with a resounding bang. He and Destiny held each other"s gazes and waited, wondering what Brandon would do next. They could hear Farley"s nails as he scrambled up the hardwood stairs, followed faintly by the creak of two heavier feet.
Brandon stopped in the bedroom doorway, looking for all the world as if he might still bolt. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Patrick stood from the bed. He knew he should say something to make Brandon believe it would all be worth it, but he didn"t have the words. He had never been more acutely aware that being the one with the big mouth wasn"t the same as being the one who knew the right thing to say.
Instead, he focused on the simple things. “So, ah, what did you do with my truck?”
“It"s behind Marty"s Liquors. I called Junior, so he knows it"s there.” They"d gone to high school with Marty Jr., whose father had left him the store when he"d retired and moved to Fort Meyers. Patrick knew Marty had security cameras, as did all the local patrols, so they wouldn"t bother checking the back lot. His truck was safe. Well hidden.
Welcome to the closet, Patrick thought bitterly. He hated it here already.
Shit. How the hell was he going to fix this? He didn"t fucking know, but it sure as hell wasn"t going to get fixed tonight.
Sighing and nodding his reluctant agreement, Patrick crossed to Brandon and started to pull off his clothes. It took only a single tug of the t-shirt before Brandon shucked his sweatpants and boxers. Patrick was inordinately grateful he wasn"t going to have to wrestle them off. Again.
He was bone-deep tired.
With little finesse, he pushed Brandon back to bed and curled up behind him, lifting the covers up over them all and pressing his lips to the back of Brandon"s neck in a gentle caress.
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Brandon let out a deep sigh. Patrick only wished he knew if it was from contentment or resignation.
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Chapter Eleven
On Monday, Destiny, Patrick and Brandon arrived at Patrick"s house within minutes of each other, though Destiny got there first.
It was Brandon"s first day back at work and she"d gone into the office early so she could be sure to be home for his return. She was worried he"d be exhausted and sore.
She was terrified he"d been mistreated by his colleagues. She wanted to make sure someone was there when he could finally drop his “everything is good” act and really feel.
She moved around the kitchen, dithering until she told herself to knock it off and get focused on starting dinner. She was so damn twitchy and unsettled. Everything was so damn unsettled.
She couldn"t stop picturing Brandon"s face when he"d sat across from them at the police station and not let her touch him. How he"d looked when they"d stormed in his house later that night. Or when he"d moved Patrick"s truck to hide it.
To be honest, she was surprised he"d come to spend the past few nights with her and Patrick, back in the comfort of Patrick"s king bed, in the embrace of Ethel"s cozy home. That he"d taken a taxi one night and had her back and forth to his house the rest of the time, just to be sure the patrol car drive-bys wouldn"t see his car in his best friend"s driveway, was infuriating. And exhausting. This living in the closet business was starting to piss her off.
But what could she do? She"d seen Patrick"s dismay when Brandon had told them he"d taken a taxi, but his only protest had been that Brandon be more careful about being on his own and exposing himself to another possible attack.
Sighing, Destiny stopped what she was doing and looked out the window at Ethel"s lovely back garden that she and Brandon worked hard to maintain.
This sneaking around wouldn"t be worth it if every other moment they spent together wasn"t so freaking good.
Brandon"s shoulders and ribs were still giving him twinges and she and Patrick had been careful not to overdo it after what had happened their first night together. Not that they"d been living like monks, of course. They"d just kept it simple.
She couldn"t remember the last time she"d indulged in so much heavy petting. It felt like they were teenagers trying all those experiments again. And in a way they were, since none of them had done any of it with a third person, a second cock, an extra ten fingers and toes in the mix.
After their first night of gymnastics, she"d have guessed it would be anti-climactic to stick to hands and mouths and long, slow, gentle fucks, but it wasn"t. Not at all.
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Destiny couldn"t remember ever being so content to spend time with a lover. But these were not just any lovers.
The swell of fear was expected and she fought it back. Again. Yes, she knew with a breath-stealing certainty that walking away was going to suck. But until she was ready to leave, she was going to enjoy every minute.
Sadness squeezed her chest, stopping her in her tracks as she crossed the kitchen with her arms full of food. She"d never feared being alone. Hell, she"d craved it.
But now if felt like it might just be…lonely.
Shaking off her strange mood, she dumped her burden on the counter, heated the oil for her stir fry and turned to chopping vegetables. What did she have to feel sad about? She had two beautiful lovers who wanted her and each other. What woman in her right mind wouldn"t enjoy
that?
She fell into the relaxing rhythms of making supper and let her thoughts return to just how much every inch of her body was enjoying it.
A few minutes later, Patrick swung through the back door and her hard-won calm was shattered. Boy, was he in a mood. Scowl dark, he gave her a perfunctory kiss hello and stalked to the fridge to grab a beer before collapsing in his seat at the table. He took a long pull from his bottle.
“How was your day?” she asked, hoping like hell he"d just had a bad commute or something.
“Peachy.”
She reminded herself it had been a stressful week for all of them and tried again.
“Great. Did anything exciting happen?”
Patrick shrugged. “Bobby Wilkinson, the guy you shot? He"s claiming to be on the Benedetto"s payroll.”
Destiny gave up all pretense of making dinner and turned to Patrick. “He"s in the mob?” she asked, nervous.
She"d really hoped this was all about one stupid freak. A lone wolf went to prison and the problem was solved. Mobsters, though, had families to finish what they"d started.
Patrick stopped staring at whatever he couldn"t see in the middle distance and looked at her.
“I"m sorry, Des. I shouldn"t have dumped that on you. You know we"re looking into it, but no one can find a connection between this Bobby guy and anyone, let alone the Benedettos.” He paused to mull that over. “The only thing that makes the Benedetto thing seem real is that he went for both arresting officers.” She rubbed her temple, following what he was saying but knowing she wasn"t as good at filling in the blanks as Brandon. He must have seen her confusion.
“Even though he attacked Brandon twice, the assumption is that he came here looking for me, presumably to surprise me after work.” Patrick shook his head.
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“Though that would certainly make Bobby not the sharpest knife in the drawer. If he came here to attack another cop, he"d have been well advised to come armed.” Destiny got the chills trying to imagine what might have happened if he had brought a gun. She took a moment to send thanks to the folks upstairs that he hadn"t.
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