His friend scowled. “I still think you
should call the cops.”
“There’s no point. I’ve seen guys like
me come through the ER before. Usually it’s because some asshole thought being
a Dom meant that he could kick the shit out of his sub. The cops take a
statement and that’s it. Nobody does anything. They figure we asked for it.”
“But you didn’t.” Ian gestured at his
chest. “That isn’t consensual. That’s assault.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s my word
against Barnard’s. I let him tie me up. And he did stop.
Eventually.”
The rage and shame flared again. How
many times had he treated people in the ER who’d come in with bruises,
lacerations, or broken bones inflicted by a partner? How many times had he
urged them to call the police, turn in their abuser? How many times had he
watched his patient walk out next to the person who had caused their injuries
in the first place?
Physician,
heal thyself.
Ian frowned, but sat back. “All right,
no cops. What about Memorial? I thought you weren’t supposed to go on vacation
for another two weeks.”
Nick could see his department head
sitting across from
him, that
oh-so-strange expression
on the woman’s face as she talked, explained. Cut his life into pieces. He
rolled the bottle again, feeling the warming glass against his fingertips.
“They fired me.”
Ian’s eyes went wide.
“They
what
?”
“Budget cuts. That’s what my boss said,
anyway. They needed to trim down the Emergency Medicine staff, and I was low
man on the totem pole. Cancelled my contract, gave me a reasonable severance
package. That’s all, Dr. Gardiner, thank you for your work.” His cheek
twitched. “Did I ever mention that Barnard is a major contributor to Memorial?
He used to joke that he should get me fired so that I’d have to move in with
him.
Looks like he made good on it.”
The smaller man’s jaw muscles bunched.
“That shit son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” How could so much
of him hurt? His head ached, his chest stung, his stomach burned.
And behind it all, a free-floating rage.
“Now you know why I
brought Norma. I had to get out of Chicago before he fucked me over even more.”
Absently he noted his knuckles were turning
white.
And then Ian’s hand closed around his, gently prying
his fingers off the beer bottle.
“So you’re staying here,” the other man
said. “Mi casa es su casa, for as long as you need it. And just so you know, if
Barnard Whitfield comes anywhere near this cove, I will personally make sure he
regrets it.”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t want you
to do that. This isn’t your fight, and he’s a vindictive prick.”
The hand on his
tightened.
His skin tingled oddly, as if he’d just touched an exposed wire. He glanced at
his friend, and blinked.
Ian’s eyes looked like they were glowing,
a pale aquamarine flickering under the dark blue irises. “I don’t like people
hurting my friends,” he said. His tone was soft, but there was a power to it
that called to Nick’s submissive side. “And I really, really don’t like people
like Barnard Whitfield. If he comes here, let me take care of him, okay?”
Did
he just use a Dom voice on me?
It didn’t matter. His muscles unclenched
for the first time in what felt like days. “Okay. He’s yours.”
“Good.” That weird sense of power
dissipated and Ian stood, grabbing his plate and the beer bottles. “You look
like you’re about to do a face plant. Why don’t you go back to bed?”
Nick nodded.
“Yeah,
good idea.
Did I say thank you for letting me stay here?
Because, you know, thank you.”
He took a deep breath that
shuddered more than he liked. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Ian said,
rinsing the beer bottles in the sink and stacking them to dry. “Are you going
to be okay by yourself?”
“Unless you’re inviting me upstairs for some
hot four-way action, I don’t think I have a choice.”
That earned him a familiar
long-suffering look. “I meant if you need someone to stay with you, I’ll stay.”
Nick swallowed, all humor gone. God, he
wanted that right now, wanted to have another body curled up behind him, an arm
thrown around his waist, warm breath on the nape of his neck.
Someone who would wake him up if he started dreaming about
Barnard’s bedroom again.
But he couldn’t fit Ian into that image.
It just felt … wrong.
He shook his head. “I’ll be all right.
Besides, with my luck I’ll wake up humping your ass and that would be all kinds
of weird.”
Ian snorted. “Yeah, I really don’t need
to know that much about you. All right, I’m gonna go back upstairs, but if you
need anything—”
“I’ll shout, I promise. Go get some
sleep.”
The smaller man hesitated,
then
surprised him by pulling him into a strong hug. After a
moment Nick squeezed back, grateful for the comfort. “Thanks.
Again.
I’ll probably keep saying that for a while, just so
you know.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Ian let him go
with a pat and an eye-roll. “Wish me luck. I’m gonna see if I can reclaim a
couple inches of mattress space.”
“Yeah, yeah, poor you, sleeping with
twin supermodels. My heart bleeds.”
Ian laughed as he headed for the stairs.
“Dude, you have no idea.”
The slanting sunlight coming through the
window blinds woke Nick up out of a blessedly Barnard-free dream. Rubbing his
eyes, he rolled over and checked the alarm clock. 8:12 A.M.
Then he looked up. A rhythmic creaking
noise came from overhead, combined with muffled words and the occasional moan.
He grinned at the ceiling.
Ian, you sex god, you.
The creaking picked up a notch, and he
distinctly heard his friend beg someone to go deeper.
He bottoms? Shit, that’s so hot.
Idly, he slid his hand under his boxers
and stroked his cock, already half-hard. There was a brief twinge of guilt
about masturbating to the sound of Ian and his two gorgeous boyfriends fucking
their brains out overhead, but it quickly disappeared as the creaking sped up.
He tried to imagine how they were
positioned. He could hear Ian’s voice, so the blond wasn’t going down on the
other twin.
Maybe he’s fucking one of
them while the other one fucks him?
An image popped into his mind. The three
of them on their sides, pumping in unison as Aphros fucked Ian from behind, and
Ian drove into the other twin. He imagined all three bodies lightly sheened in
sweat as they flexed and thrust, hard shafts driving deeply into muscled flesh.
He stroked his own cock more roughly
now, picturing Ian’s hand reaching around and jacking off Bythos while he
rocked on Aphros’s cock, taking the blue-eyed twin deep and loving it.
The fantasy morphed, and now he was in Bythos’s
place, Ian’s hand massaging his cock while he plowed Nick’s ass. Aphros moved
lower on the bed, warm mouth closing around Nick’s shaft as Ian’s hand dropped
away. Nick moaned, imagining a head of auburn curls bobbing greedily and taking
him deep as Ian drove into him relentlessly.
Pleasure sizzled down his spine and into
his groin, and his climax came up quickly. For a moment he regretted not
pulling his boxers down, then gave in as his balls tightened and warm semen
spurted over his hand. Overhead, it sounded as if things were also coming to a
head, judging from the hoarse cries and one low, loud roar.
Panting softly, Nick pulled his hand out
of his boxers and wiped the translucent stickiness covering his fingers on his
t-shirt. The creaking noises stopped, and all he could hear now was muffled
voices talking and soft laughter.
His afterglow disappeared. Barnard
usually sent him straight to the bathroom after they finished having sex, and
his idea of aftercare was a pat on the ass and a casually tossed lap blanket.
That should have been a big neon stop sign
right there.
He squelched a flicker of jealousy. Ian
deserved to be in a good relationship again. He wasn’t about to begrudge his
friend any happiness, especially if it came courtesy of a pair of redheaded sex
gods.
But God, he missed being with someone
who laughed and pulled him back to bed after sex. Someone who would hold him
and keep him warm after an intense scene, letting him come down gently from the
high of subspace.
Someone who wanted to be with him, full stop.
Even better, to
get that in duplicate…
Well, hell, if
we’re talking about the impossible, why not wish for a couple of hot mermen?
That’s about as likely to happen as you finding a pair of perfect Doms.
Sighing, he got
out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Just
be happy for Ian and leave it at that.
****
After a quick shower and shave, Nick headed
into the kitchen. He found Aphros standing at a counter with his back to the
room, doing something to a coffee maker.
“Need some help?” Nick offered.
The man turned, revealing a clean-shaven
face and grey eyes.
Not Aphros, then.
“Crap.
Sorry. You’re, uh...”
“Bythos,” the redhead said in a sexy
baritone. “And thanks, but I have this. Aph and Ian are still getting dressed.
Would you like some coffee?”
Nick sniffed and smothered a moan at the
unmistakable scent of Jamaica Blue Mountain.
“Oh, God yes.”
Bythos poured a cup and handed it over, looking
amused when Nick blissfully breathed in the steam. “I take it you’re feeling
better this morning?”
“I’m compos mentis, which is a huge
improvement on yesterday.” Nick took the seat he’d used last night at the
table. “Ian said that you took care of Norma. Thank you for that.”
Bythos made a dismissive gesture. “You’re
quite welcome. I haven’t had a pet in a long time, so it was nice to play with
her. In fact, I think—”
A patter of footsteps sounded and the
terrier dashed into the kitchen, jumping up and planting her paws on Nick’s
thigh with happy little yips. “Hey there, gorgeous,” he crooned, scratching her
ears. “How’s my girl?”
“Wondering
where’s all
the bacon
gone, knowing her,” Ian said as he wandered in, Aphros in his
wake. “Hungry?”
Nick’s stomach rumbled on cue.
“Yeah.”
“Good. We’ll get breakfast rustled up
before the guys head off to work. I need to go into Olympic Beach afterwards
and pick something up. You want to come with me or hang out here?”
He hadn’t paid much attention to the town
yesterday, focused as he had been on finding a road to Olympic Cove. “If you
don’t mind the company, I’ll tag along.”
“Good. You can keep him out of trouble,”
Aphros said over his shoulder as he pulled out eggs, avocados, and other
condiments from the fridge.
“How does huevos rancheros sound
this morning, gentlemen?”
Nick’s stomach rumbled again, louder
this time. “I will eat whatever you give me,” he said with a heartfelt tone.
“Good. And I take it Norma is a bacon
aficionado?”
“I’ve got kibble for her in the car.” He
leaned down and rubbed her ears. “But yeah, she likes her pork products when
she can get them.”
Aphros winked at the dog,
who
wagged her tail furiously. “Oh, I think we can do better
than kibble.”
After devouring a heaping plate of huevos
rancheros topped with fresh guacamole and sour cream, Nick put his cutlery down
and made the groan of the well and truly fed. “
Aph,
has anyone told you you’re a cooking god?” he said, smothering a burp.
Ian choked a little on his orange juice,
but Aphros just smirked.
“Oddly enough, no.
But it’s
nice to hear.”
Norma, who was licking her bowl of
shredded pork clean, paused and gave him a look of doggy
adoration
.
“Well, I think you just made two fans,” Nick said, getting up. “Can I help with
the dishes?”
The twins and Ian exchanged a look. “Oh,
it’ll just take me a few minutes,” Aph said easily. “If you’re ready, why don’t
the two of you head into town? Love,” he said to Ian, “we probably won’t be
back for lunch, so you’ll have to forage. Sorry.”
“No problem.” Ian grabbed plates and
carried them to the sink, giving Aphros a sweet kiss in passing. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” the blue-eyed twin
said with a lazy smile, touching Ian’s cheek. Nick could feel the sudden change
in the atmosphere even across the room, and glanced at Bythos. The other twin
was watching them with amused approval.
Unexpectedly, Bythos looked at him. “I
think you’re embarrassing our guest, gentlemen,” he rumbled.
Ian shot Nick an apologetic smile.
“Sorry. We’re still kind of in the honeymoon phase.”