Volley Balls

by Tara Lain

  Edge nodded. His dick stood straight up against his body.

  David laughed. “Somebody knows what he wants.” He grabbed the lube and condoms from the nightstand.

  “Don’t really need a condom.” Edge stared at Gareth’s ass.

  “It’s better for a while. Later, we can all try bareback.”

  Gareth peered back at them. “Can we bring this tutorial to a close and get some fucking done? My cock is more than interested.”

  David started shoving lube into Gareth’s butt with first one finger and then two.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Edge kind of giggled.

  David pointed. “That’s the spot. Go for it.”

  With a look of intense concentration, Edge placed his cockhead against Gareth’s hole and thrust his hips forward. The pucker turned white, but nothing else happened. Edge looked at David.

  “Takes work. Try again.”

  His next big shove just managed to push Gareth off his knees.

  David grabbed Gareth’s arm. “Turn over.”

  Gareth flipped until he was facing up. He reached for his legs and pulled them beside his ears.

  “Holy shit!” Edge stared.

  David pointed. “Use your body weight.”

  “I’ll hurt him.”

  “Fuck me!”

  “Okay.” He positioned, took a breath, and pressed his big, lean body down. In it popped and plowed a couple inches of furrow into Gareth before he managed to stop. “It worked.”

  David laughed. Gareth moaned.

  David leaned over him. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh shit, yes.”

  “Good?”

  “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

  Edge pulled out, then pushed back in, his face a mask of realization and amazement. “That’s great. I love it like this because I can see his face so clearly. Shit, you’re bloody gorgeous. And you feel like heaven. Hotter than hell, but still like heaven.”

  “Poetry, my friend, but get busy!”

  Edge fucked with more precision, and Gareth grabbed David’s cock and led him on his knees to his side. He looked up at David and smiled. “I love you.” Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped his lips around David’s dick and hummed.

  Really, it was a stupid thing for Gareth to say. He was twenty-two years old. He’d known David for a week. His whole life had just tilted on its axis and everything in his future would change. David still recoiled from violence and had to learn to trust again. His time with Gareth hadn’t been reality. What about all the daily annoyances that tore people apart? And they were experimenting with a threesome, for crap’s sake. That wasn’t real life. Yes, those were the facts. He thrust his cock into the deep, white heat of Gareth Marshall and smiled. “I love you too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “WHAT TIME is your flight?” Gareth’s voice sounded strained.

  Edge looked over at Gareth in the driver’s seat. From the back, David saw the sadness. Hell, it practically reeked from his pores. “Ten. Nine fifty, actually.”

  “Fly all night.”

  “Yeh. Home tomorrow.” He looked toward his hotel, but his lashes fluttered.

  “You’ll come back soon?”

  Edge sighed and didn’t cover it well. “Don’t know. The schedule for the exhibition matches is mostly in Europe. You know. Plus, I may not find a partner in time to play, so I might not go at all.”

  David wiped at his own eyes. He should be glad. When Edge left, he and Gareth could find real footing for their relationship. Yeah, but after two days of outrageous bliss, it was pretty fucking hard to get to glad. “If you can’t come here, Gareth and I will find a way to come to you.”

  “Promise?” He looked so young and vulnerable when he said that.

  “Yes, absolutely.” Man, he should have crossed his fingers. With the gallery and Gareth’s school and volleyball, how the hell would they find the time and money to go to Europe?

  “Guess I better go in.”

  Gareth reached across the console and gave Edge a hug. David tried to lean over the seat to do the same. Very damned unsatisfying. He’d taken yesterday off, and the three of them had spent it mostly in bed, finding new ways to fuck, suck, and otherwise get each other off. He’d had a ridiculous amount of fun, but now he had to grow up. Didn’t he?

  “Wish I could hug you both out there.”

  Gareth kind of grimaced. “Somebody from the team would surely see you. That’s how the Cosmic Joker works, right?”

  “Yeh. And I guess I should care.”

  David pushed open the back door. “Fuck. You don’t have to care about those assholes.”

  Edge stared out the door, smiled, and stepped out into the afternoon heat. He scooped David in his arms and swung him around. “I love ya, mate.”

  “Love you too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you back.”

  “What for?”

  Gareth came up beside Edge.

  David said, “For so many things. For saving me from Phil. And for making me brave. I’ll never look at the world the same way again.”

  Gareth wrapped an arm around Edge. “Me too. You’ve made everything better.”

  “Least I could do.” Edge smiled, though a world of sorrow shone in the deep blue eyes. “So we’ll see each other when we can.”

  David nodded, but the tears pushed so hard at his throat, he couldn’t make sound come out.

  Edge wrapped them both in a group hug. “I do love you.”

  Somehow, that didn’t seem like it was just meant for Gareth.

  Edge turned suddenly and walked fast to the hotel.

  Gareth made a sound in his throat, and David wiped at his cheeks. Gareth held the car door for David and then walked to the driver’s side. They drove in silence.

  When they got back to Laguna, Gareth said, “Where to?”

  “I guess I better check at the gallery.”

  “Okay. I’ll drop you off.”

  “No. Go into the structure. I’ll walk with you.”

  He pulled into the low parking building on Glenneyre and parked, then glanced at David. “You seem really sad to see Edge go.”

  “I am.”

  “May I ask why?”

  What did Gareth want to hear? Hell, what was the truth? “I care about him. For him.”

  Gareth nodded. “Can you be happy with me?”

  “You mean, do I need two cocks to be satisfied?”

  He shrugged and gave a half grin. “Yeh. I guess that’s what I mean. Or maybe two men.” He took a breath. “You really seemed to enjoy it.”

  “So did you.”

  “I guess part of the reason I did was because you did.”

  “Hey, back atcha. I saw that you loved Edge. Wanted him. I wanted you to have what makes you happy.”

  Gareth’s smile looked strained. “Is this like that ‘Gift of the Magi’ thing where she cuts her hair to buy him a watch chain and he sells his watch to buy combs?”

  David cocked his head. “No. I don’t think so. I think it’s about us three. We fit. I can’t imagine sharing you with someone else. Hell, I’d scratch his eyes out.” He touched Gareth’s face. “But I’m happy with you. You’re not only enough for me, you’re more than I could ever imagine having.”

  Gareth nodded. “I feel the same.” He leaned over and kissed David very gently. After all the wild sex, that gentle touch of lips sealed so many deals.

  They got out of the car and walked hand in hand to Forest Avenue. As they got close to the gallery, Gareth stopped. “I think I’ll go stroll on the beach for a few minutes while you check in, okay? Then we’ll get some dinner before we go home.”

  Home. That had a good sound. “Great. I’ll call when I’m done, or just come back.”

  Gareth smiled and strode toward the beach with that graceful, confident walk. Man, what a catch.

  In the gallery, JJ was ringing up some customers at the counter.
David waved and walked straight to the back room. He stopped and rested his forehead against the coolness of the company refrigerator. He wanted to feel great about everything. He just didn’t.

  “David?”

  He looked up and smiled at JJ. “Hi, dear. How’s business?”

  “Booming. More important, how are you?”

  “Weird.”

  “So it would seem. Tell Mama JJ everything.”

  “Edge left. Or rather, he’s leaving.” He glanced at his watch. “In a few hours.”

  “Edge? Goliath of the potty mouth and the perfect butt? And we care about his leaving because—?” He waved his hand.

  David looked up through his lashes. “Because I’ve been fucking him for two solid days?”

  “What the hell? What are you talking about? What about Gareth?”

  “Him too.”

  “You’re—what—no?”

  “Yep. Threesome city. And man, was it great.”

  “You of the one true love school of romance?”

  “I know. Stupid and crazy. But I miss him already. He’s sweet and thoughtful and like a big teddy bear.”

  “Uh, yes, if the teddy bear happened to be in Hitler Youth.”

  “No, honest. You’d actually love him.” Yes, JJ would love him. So would everyone David knew if they got to know him. “Oh, I don’t know what to do. I’m so happy with Gareth, but—”

  “David!” Gareth’s voice came from the front of the shop.

  David ran out, and Gareth grabbed him. “If Edge could stay, would you want it? Seriously?”

  “What? But he’s not a citizen and getting into this country right now is so hard and—”

  “Yes or no?”

  JJ yelled, “Yes, he says yes.”

  David looked at JJ and said the dumbest thing ever. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I know that heart.” JJ pointed at David’s chest and grinned.

  David smiled at Gareth. “Yes!”

  “Let’s go.” They ran toward the parking garage.

  By the time they’d braved one and one-half hours of bloody fucking LA traffic, they found a short-term spot on the LAX parking garage and ran like orcs toward the security gates. Gareth had his phone in hand and David heard him yelling, “Come to the security line. We’ll be on the other side. They won’t let us in.”

  When they ran up to security, Edge’s shining hair showed above all the people. No way they could get close enough to talk. David waved at Edge and gestured for him to come back into the terminal.

  Edge pointed at his watch and shook his head. No time to go through security again.

  Gareth redialed Edge. David could see his teammates closing around him. Gareth put it on speaker. “Edge, Parker says he’s sure he can get you a scholarship to Santa Barbara to play volleyball. Do you really want to go to school here?”

  Silence.

  David said, “I know it’s a lot. So much change at once. But even if your family doesn’t want to support you, between me and Gareth’s folks, we can get you through your last year. Meanwhile, you can apply for citizenship. Hell, one of us will marry you if that’s the best way to get you in.”

  “You—you want me to stay?”

  “Hell yes.” David swallowed. “I know, it seems like it makes more sense for me to have him by myself, and if it was anyone else, I would. But I think this is the way it’s supposed to be. I know it’s weird and kinky and not like real life—but I think it is our life.”

  “Oh God, David.”

  His turn to be quiet. “I love you, Edge. We love you.”

  Across the sea of people milling through the security line, Edge’s smile shone like a beacon. He turned to his mates, and the phone went dead.

  David and Gareth stared at each other.

  Suddenly, like a great antelope or maybe a giraffe, this huge golden figure came running through the security checkpoint, his bags in hand. The bags got tossed as he reached them. He grabbed Gareth and kissed him. People nearby gasped. Yeah, well, not that much M/M kissing for public consumption.

  Then Edge released Gareth and grabbed David. He swung him and planted a giant kiss right on his lips. David laughed. “That should keep them talking for the next generation! Let’s go home.”

  As they walked arm in arm from the airport, David beamed. He looked forward to the day he could tell their children the story of David—and Gareth—and Goliath.

  Exclusive Excerpt

  A Balls to the Wall Romance

  By Tara Lain

  Renowned artist Rodney Mansfield stands five-six, has pink hair, six earrings, a black belt in karate—and a desperate yearning for firefighter Hunter Fallon. But Rod, the Runtback of Notre Dame, knows he’ll never land the beautiful “ straight gay” guy, so Rod musters his altruism and helps his more masculine friend Jerry attract Hunter. As if a broken heart wasn’t enough, Rod saves Hunter from a firehouse homophobe—humiliating Hunter in front of his dad!

  Hunter lives a dream life—his father’s dream. While he’d like to teach literature in college, read poetry in the sun, and find a strong guy to top him, he fights fires for his dad. Hunter hates flamboyant guys like Rodney. So why can’t he resist him? Maybe it’s time to admit this is one flame he has no desire to put out.

  Chapter One

  “HEY, BRADY! Get your pansy ass over here.” Loud, grating laughter followed the slur. Clearly Mr. Bigmouth thought he was funny.

  Rodney Mansfield glanced toward the fire station as he sauntered past. Saunter. Funny word. Actually stalk was more accurate. But the object of his stalking wasn’t in sight. Just that bigmouthed asshole called Mick. Yeah. He’d been around before on Rod’s strolls. The guy got on his last nerve.

  Sigh. No Hunter. The line of carefully assembled fire gear—pants inside boots, other paraphernalia stacked alongside—looked serious and ready. Shoot. Where was he? This was usually his shift, or so it seemed based on stalking evidence.

  One more minute, then he had to go. He paused. Try for elaborately casual, darling. Nothing. No Hunter. Shit. Had to get back to the festival.

  Rod took off at a run up Laguna Canyon Road and covered the couple of blocks in a few seconds.

  “Hi, darling.” He waggled fingers at the attendant as he pressed through the turnstile. Once on the festival grounds, he maneuvered through the crowds. Some serious art patrons and lots of tourists were crowded around the high, slanted walls of displays that edged an open lawn of tables and chairs. The festival was an art fairyland after the busy traffic on the road outside.

  “Rod! Who’s minding the store?”

  He skidded to a stop before rounding the corner of the wall of art. Heidi was waving from her stall. Loved her stuff. Really gorgeous jewelry. He fingered the six gold hoops in his ear, many of which were Heidi’s creations. “Hi, darling. Kiss, kiss.” He smooched the air in her direction on the other side of the lawn. “Jerry’s watching it for me. I just had to pee.” A couple of art patrons’ heads turned toward him. Okay, maybe TMI. A failing of his. He looked at Heidi, who grinned. He shrugged. “Gotta get back before he gives away my best portrait.” He waggled his fingers. “LOL, dear. See ya.”

  He started to jog and then stopped himself. Okay, Rodster, slow down before you run into someone. David was always telling him to just ease up a little and he’d live longer, but hell, who wanted to live longer if you couldn’t live fast? He laughed and sped up.

  He cleared one of the rows of art displays and turned to cut over to the next and saw…. His heart stopped beating. Holy shit. He dove behind the wall. Here. He was here!

  While Rod had been wasting time stalking, the object of his obsession was standing in front of Rod’s booth talking to Jerry. Oh God, beautiful. At least six foot two, with dark brown hair and wide, light eyes, the man was a walking work of art. But he was with a woman.

  Rod had never seen Hunter with a woman. Of course, firefighters didn’t often invite their girlfriends to hang out at the station, so Rod wouldn’t n
ecessarily have seen her while making his forays past the fire department.

  He sighed. He’d kind of hoped. Of course, hoping was fucking stupid. Why would somebody like Hunter Fallon be interested in a little pipsqueak like Rodney Mansfield? Why would the most gorgeous human on the planet want to cozy up to the Runtback of Notre Dame?

  But what could Mr. Gorgeous be saying to Jerry? Rod cut around the display and came up to the spot on the other side of the wall that backed against his own booth, beside the wall of “Roman’s” art. Rodney Mansfield. Aka Roman. Painter of huge, semi-impressionistic nudes of magnificent men. Yeah, yeah, he saw the irony in a miniature human painting huge nudes of gorgeous guys. Freud would’ve had a field day with him.

  Maybe he could hear if he just oozed around the corner a little. He scooted closer and picked up a copy of the art show program. Turning his back, he pretended to read while sneaking toward his display.

  Bingo. He heard that soft, low voice he sometimes caught on his walks past the fire station. Shivers. Oh God, the man was sex on a stick.

  “That’s the most beautiful brushwork I’ve ever seen. It looks like oil rather than acrylic. Is it?”

  OMG, Hunter liked his painting. Passing out was an option. Rod fluttered the program.

  Jerry giggled. The surfer dude voice rang out, and Rod cringed. “Shit, man, I don’t know oil from vinegar. I don’t paint this. It’s Roman. I’m not Roman. I’m just watching the booth for him for a few, man. Hang around and you can meet him. They’re really pretty, aren’t they? I mean, these guys’ asses are radical. I’ll tell you a secret, man. I even posed for a couple, but not this one. Don’t know who this dude is, ya know, but ya wanna buy it?”

  Shit. Rod wanted to rush around the corner. He loved Jerry, but sometimes the guy just didn’t think real clearly. Maybe a few too many drugs in childhood. But Rod couldn’t interrupt. What would he do if he met Hunter face-to-face? Faint city.

  A pretty female voice said, “Darling, you should pose for this artist. He’s the only painter I’ve ever seen who could do justice to your beauty.”