LOVEGAMES

M. Jules Aedin

www.loose-id.com

Lovegames

Copyright © January 2012 by M. Jules Aedin

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original
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eISBN 978-1-61118-726-7

Editor: Jana J. Hanson

Cover Artist: April Martinez

Printed in the United States of America

Published by

Loose Id LLC

PO Box 809

San Francisco CA 94104-0809

www.loose-id.com

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be
made to actual historical events or existing locations, the
names, characters, places and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

Warning

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult
language and may be considered offensive to some

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* * * *

DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice,
especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish
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Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for
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Dedication

For my mother, who has read every story I’ve published so
far and will probably read this one against my advice—I
am so sorry to have to tell you this, but your kid’s a perv.

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Chapter One

Sebastian Keane groaned as he looked down at his beer-
soaked T-shirt. “This is not the way karma is supposed to
work.”

The guy who had spilled his beer all over Sebastian—and
himself—looked up from where he was mopping up his
own shirt. “I’m sorry?”

“No, nothing, I just…” Sebastian shook his head and
laughed bitterly as he fingered the dripping garment. “I just
threw my own beer all over the guy I came here with about
three minutes ago, so it’s kind of, I dunno, karmic in a
twisted way.”

The guy tossed his half-empty cup into a nearby trash can
and took a second to evaluate Sebastian. “Why’d you throw
your beer on him?”

“Hm? Oh, because his boyfriend showed up screaming at
both of us.” Sebastian shrugged. He was still pissed off at
Russell. Sebastian didn’t get picked up very often, no
matter what his friends thought, and his only unbreakable
rule was honesty. He hated being lied to. Russell had told

Sebastian at the party last night that he was single. The guy
who’d lunged at Russell and had to be restrained by his
friends would beg to differ. “I don’t have a problem with
sharing, but if that’s the way he wants to roll, he should’ve
told his boyfriend. And me.”

The corner of the guy’s mouth quirked up, and Sebastian
couldn’t help but notice the faint ghost of a dimple in his
cheek. Great. He was always a sucker for dimples.

“Can’t argue with you there. You know, why don’t you come
over here and let me get you a new shirt. That one’s going
to smell awful when the beer starts drying.” The guy stuck
out his hand to shake, and Sebastian took it automatically.
“I’m Keith, by the way.”

“Baz.” Sebastian’s roommate, Jason, had dubbed him with
the unlikely nickname a year ago, and somewhere along
the line, Sebastian had gotten used to introducing himself
as such.

Keith’s eyebrow ticked up in apparent amusement. “Yeah,
okay. C’mon, kitten, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“

Kitten?

” Keith had started walking away before he’d even

stopped speaking, and Sebastian had to jog to catch up.
“What the fuck is that supposed to be? A come on?”

“Now did I say anything about coming on you?”

Sebastian blinked as he tried to process that sentence in
any way except the dirty double entendre he’d heard to
begin with. His temper sparked, and he stopped dead in
his tracks. Just because he dressed a certain way didn’t
mean he was a slut, willing to put out for just anyone—even
if they did have perfect dimples and blue eyes to die for.
“You know what? I don’t live that far from here. I’ll go home
and change.” He flashed a saccharine-sweet smile and
spun on his heel.

He supposed he really shouldn’t have been surprised when
a hand grabbed his elbow.

“Hey, slow down, kit—uh, kid.” Keith pulled him around so
they were face-to-face, and Sebastian thought he might
have been more inclined to forgive if Keith hadn’t been
obviously two seconds away from laughing. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean anything by it. Let me get you another shirt,
really. It’s not that big of a deal.”

This was turning out to be the worst Pride ever. The cute
guy he’d come with already had a boyfriend and had lied
about it, he’d lost his very expensive cup of beer to the
good cause of a dramatic gesture, and now this son of a
bitch was patronizing him. At twenty-one, beer was still at a
premium; as a college student, his hard-earned cash was
even more valuable; and this guy might be as hot as the
devil’s asshole, but that didn’t mean he got to treat
Sebastian like a two-dollar whore.

“No, really.” Sebastian backed away, fishing his wallet out
of his too-tight jeans and pulling out his last ten-dollar bill.
“Here. Go get yourself another beer. Sorry about the other
one. Have a nice day.”

The bastard had bumped into

him

, but Sebastian just

wanted out. Now.

Keith waved him off. “Thanks, ki…Baz, but that’s okay.”
Keith’s smile was somehow both condescending and
admiring, and Sebastian felt his face turning hot with rage.
Who did this guy think he was?

“Mr. Black!”

A very harried-looking man who gave the impression that
he lived on antacids and coffee and not much else came
scurrying up, a plastic badge on a lanyard flapping in the
breeze. “Mr. Black, they want you backstage for a sound
check. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

This last was said accusingly, the man’s eyes narrowing at
Keith—oh

shit

. Keith Black. Sebastian had to be the only

gay boy on his campus who didn’t have Keith Black on his
MP3 player, mostly because after the first five hundred
times his friends had played Keith’s big single, “Walk
Through Fire” or “Fly Through Fire” or something equally
obnoxious, Sebastian had never wanted to hear the name
again. Maybe he would have paid more attention if he’d

known the guy looked like this.

“Sure, Ron. Sorry you had to come looking for me.” Keith
glanced over at Sebastian and said, “If this young man will
let you, would you grab a shirt in his size from one of the
booths? I owe him a replacement. Give him a VIP package
too, if he’ll take it, as an apology.”

Before Sebastian could complain that he was

right there

,

dammit, Keith turned a dimpled smile on him full-force, and
his knees went weak.

“I would say I’m sorry for bumping into you, kid, but it was a
pleasure to meet you, so that would be a lie. But I do hope
the rest of your day goes better.”

Keith headed off in the direction of the amphitheater, and
Ron gave Sebastian a look of utter surprise. Sebastian
realized he was still standing there with his wallet in his
hand and a beer stain on his shirt, and he blushed as he
stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

“Um, sir…?” Ron looked like he might start rooting in his
pockets for a roll of Tums any second now. “Would you—
that is…”

Sebastian took pity on the poor guy. “Size small,” he said,
trying not to sigh. He was skinny on top of being
embarrassingly short. It made it far too easy for guys like
Keith Black not to take him seriously. He thought about

refusing the shirt on principle but figured he should at least
have a souvenir from this bizarre experience. Plus, on a
college-student budget, free clothes were not to be turned
down. “Thank you.”

“Right.” Ron still sounded a little bit weirded out by the
whole thing, and Sebastian thought he knew

exactly

how

the dude felt.

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* * * *

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“You have that look on your face.”

Keith gazed up at his lover, Adam Cruce, from his
stretched-out position on the floor. “What look is that?”

“The one that says you’ve found your target for the evening
and have your eye on him.” Adam smiled as he dropped to
the floor beside Keith, apparently unconcerned with getting
his clothes dirty or wrinkled. There were many things Keith
loved about Adam, but his unselfconsciousness was
possibly first on that list. It was something Keith had never

managed to attain. “Is he pretty?”

“He’s too pretty for words.” Keith sighed, thinking of the
college-boy twink he’d bumped into. “I spilled my beer on
him.”

Adam winced through his laughter. “Jesus. No one who
sees you dance would know what an epic klutz you are.
Was he mad?”

“As a wet cat.”

“So now you want him even more because he was pissed
at you and didn’t fall for your charm. Is that it?”

Keith narrowed his eyes at his lover before pulling himself
into a sitting position, nose to nose with him. “I thought we’d
had this discussion before.”

Adam was still laughing, his breath tickling over Keith’s lips,
tempting him with the thought of dragging Adam off to the
rehearsal room and locking the door. Or maybe not locking
the door—sometimes having an audience spiced things
up. “Which discussion is that?”

“The one where you agreed not to read my mind.” Keith
couldn’t help himself; he brushed a quick kiss over Adam’s
mouth.

“I don’t remember signing that clause in our prenup, babe.

You’re making things up again.” But Adam kissed him back
before he could argue that he wasn’t making things up,
dammit, and besides that, they didn’t even have a prenup. It
was kind of hard to have prenuptial agreements when there
weren’t any nuptials.

“How long do you have before you have to go on?” Adam
nipped at his lips, distracting him, making it difficult to
answer. He was thinking about getting even more
distracted—Adam was good enough to eat in fitted jeans
and a hilariously conservative polo, and a dirty little blowjob
on the floor was just what the doctor ordered—when he
remembered why he was backstage in the first place.

“Unfortunately”—he sighed—“they want me for sound
checks in about five minutes, and we’re good, but we’re not
that good.” He put his hand in the middle of Adam’s chest
and pushed back, but he lost his resolve halfway there and
stroked down to Adam’s stomach to tug at his belt buckle
instead. He slipped his hand behind the waistband of
Adam’s jeans and grinned. “Maybe I can be five minutes
late. Dressing room?”

“Men’s room is closer.”

“But not as empty, and babe, as much as I love showing
you off, I’d rather us not get arrested for it.”

Adam grinned and licked Keith’s lips, taking a moment to

palm Keith’s crotch through his tight—and getting tighter by
the second—leather pants. “All right. Dressing room. But
hurry up.”

Keith had plans to suck Adam off, but as soon as they were
inside the room with the door closed and locked, Adam
shoved Keith against the wall and went to his knees, taking
Keith’s pants and underwear with him.

“Tell me about the boy,” Adam demanded as he palmed
Keith’s cock. He looked up through long golden eyelashes,
the smattering of freckles across his nose giving him an
innocent air that made his current position that much hotter.
He jacked Keith’s erection with firm, steady pulls, flicking
his tongue over the head. “The one you wanted to pick up.
Tell me about him.”

“He was—

fuck

, baby!” As soon as Keith started talking,

Adam fastened his mouth over the head of Keith’s dick and
sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks. Adam gave him a
reprimanding look, and Keith took a deep breath. If he
didn’t keep going, Adam would quit. “He…he was young,
probably in college… At least twenty-one, ’cause he’d
bought a beer.” Keith couldn’t help the way his hips bucked,
pushing his dick deeper into Adam’s mouth. “Although
maybe he just batted his eyelashes at the bartender and
gave him a blowjob behind the counter.”

Adam made a humming noise that, at any other time, Keith

would have cataloged as “thoughtful.” At the moment, it
sounded dirty and delicious and felt fucking amazing.

“He was tiny—less than five-five, easy—and skinny.
Prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Blue-green eyes…glitter and
eyeliner, all glammed up.” Adam’s mouth screwed down
the length of Keith’s dick, and he lost his train of thought for
a minute. Adam cupped Keith’s balls in his hand and
squeezed, just enough to remind Keith he was supposed to
be talking.

“H-he…

Fuck

, baby, yeah… He was…” He slid his hand

into Adam’s hair, cupping the back of his skull. Adam
sucked harder, and Keith struggled to keep talking. “Two-
tone hair…black roots, blond tips. Mouth you’d pay to see
around your dick. Fucking perfect little nose.”

Adam started choking, and Keith managed to get enough
control of himself to let go of Adam’s hair and let him pull
back. He didn’t expect Adam to pull all the way off—or to
be laughing.

“His

nose

?”

Keith scowled. “Shut up and suck my dick, bitch.” The
words lost most of their heat since Keith was laughing too.
“And yeah, his nose.” Adam was still snickering, but he
must have realized they’d used up at least all of Keith’s five
minutes and were probably getting close to ten more,

because he managed to at least stop smiling long enough
to stuff Keith’s cock back into his mouth.

Keith moaned as he sank into the wet heat of Adam’s
mouth. Waves of red-tinted pleasure rippled through him.
He was pretty sure Adam had learned to suck dick from
either an angel or a whore; nobody Keith had ever met
sucked his cock like Adam did. He wondered how the
college boy would do. Speaking of…

“He’d fit perfectly between us, babe.” Keith shut his eyes
and imagined that exquisite little body between them, all
three of them slick with sweat as they moved together.
“Maybe he’d even take us both at the same time, both our
cocks shoved into his tight little hole…”

Adam groaned around his dick, and Keith gasped, yanking
on Adam’s hair.

“Babe, I’m…I’m com—

oh shit, baby, yeah!

”

Adam swallowed him down, pulling back in time to catch
the last droplets on his lips, and then grinned up at Keith as
he licked them off slowly and deliberately.

“Fuck,” Keith panted, sliding down the wall. Adam climbed
over him and kissed him, sharing the last traces of flavor,
and Keith tilted his head, inviting Adam’s tongue deeper. “I
swear to God,” Keith said when they parted. “You get better
every single time. I wish I had time to pay you back, but…”

“Mm.” Adam kissed him again. “You can owe me.” He
stood up and reached down to help Keith to his feet, then
fussed with Keith’s hair as Keith pulled his underwear and
leather pants back up. The leather was harder to get on
now that his skin was damp with sweat, but he wriggled into
it anyway.

He’d just gotten the fly done up when there was a pounding
on the door.

“Keith? You horny bastard, get the fuck out here. They’re
gonna kick us off the stage without a sound check if you’re
not there in three minutes.”

Adam laughed and yelled through the door, “Hold your
horses, Manny. He’s zipping up.”

“Shoulda known it was your fault this time,” the drummer
called back. “Everyone thinks he corrupted you, but some
of us know it was the other way around.”

Keith had himself put back together by then, and he pulled
open the door and shoved past Manny. “Come on, dude.
Stop flirting with my boyfriend and let’s go.”

“See ya, Manny,” Adam called, not sounding the least bit
repentant.

Keith saw Manny flip up his middle finger at Adam and

grinned. They made it onto the stage with thirty seconds to
spare.

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* * * *

Adam Cruce swiped at the corner of his mouth with his
thumb, checking for leftover cheese sauce from the soft
pretzel he’d just finished. The damn things were his
downfall, and he knew he should stop eating them before
they ruined his physique and sent Keith running to one of
his pretty-boy groupies once and for all, but every now and
then couldn’t hurt. Besides, that was what personal trainers
were for.

He’d been meaning to find Keith after the sound check, but
apparently Adam was wanted for interviews and Keith had
a last-minute rehearsal with his band. The cute
photographer they’d hit on in DC was at the rehearsal
snapping pics, and Adam felt a little jealous that Keith was
going to be locked up in a room with him for several
minutes, but he didn’t think the photog would fall prey to
Keith’s charm. He’d turned them down cold in DC, after all.
And it wasn’t that he minded if Keith got the guy in bed; it

was just that Adam wanted a chance at him too.

So instead, Adam was wandering around the Pride setup,
checking out vendors, occasionally buying little rainbow-
themed knickknacks for the hell of it. He knew there was an
extra security person hanging around close by, but it was
almost comical how much Adam

didn’t

get recognized. At

the most, someone would tilt their head at him and say,
“Has anyone ever told you that you look kinda like that guy
from

Boyfriends

?”

He hadn’t decided yet if it was a compliment or an insult
that they didn’t recognize him out of character. At least he
knew people were watching his show.

So Adam was seriously unprepared for a soft gasp beside
him and a sexy little voice saying tentatively, “Are you…
You’re Jamie from

Boyfriends

, aren’t you?”

He looked down quickly, surprised and pleased at being
recognized, and the wide eyes staring back at him—
turquoise and clear like a tropical ocean, rimmed in thick
blue eyeliner with sparkly glitter spreading up his temples
and into his two-tone hair—stole his breath like a sucker
punch. He would bet money this was Keith’s pretty boy, and
god

damn

, his boyfriend had good taste.

“Adam Cruce, actually.” He laughed when the kid blushed.
Fuck yes, he was going to pick up where Keith had left off

trying to get this boy into their bed. “But yes, I’m Jamie on

Boyfriends

. It’s nice to meet you…?”

He left the sentence hanging in the air, hoping it would
entice the kid into telling Adam his name.

“Baz—um, Sebastian Keane.” His eyes were still
impossibly wide, his pupils blown so there was only a tiny
ring of jewel-toned aqua around them, and Adam was not
above using a little starpower to try to seduce him. Usually
Keith was the one bringing in the starfucker factor; it was
nice to be the carrot instead of the stick for a change.

“Nice to meet you, Sebastian Keane.” He took a moment to
really look at the kid, amused to notice that he was wearing
one of Keith’s tour shirts, Keith’s hot-eyed devil smirk
painted over black fabric promising synthetic sin just from
wearing it. “I see you’re wearing one of my boyfriend’s
shirts.”

He grinned when Sebastian looked down at himself like he
wasn’t sure exactly

what

he was wearing.

“Yeah, um, he… I sort of ran into him, and there was beer
spillage, and he offered me a clean shirt, so…” Sebastian
shrugged, looking so adorably awkward Adam thought he
could actually feel his mouth watering. He wanted to protect
the boy; he also wanted to eat him up. “I don’t actually know
his music that well. Just that one single, that ‘Fire’ song that

my roommate played until my ears bled.” Sebastian’s
gorgeous eyes went wide, and he backpedaled quickly.
“Not that it’s a bad song! Or anything! I… It was…”

Adam laughed, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder,
taking advantage of the moment to touch him, to gauge his
reaction. Sebastian shivered, and Adam let his hand skim
down Sebastian’s arm before it fell away completely.

“Don’t worry. I think I understand the concept of overplayed.”
He tilted his head toward the amphitheater. “Unfortunately,
he’ll probably be playing that song tonight, but he’ll also be
doing a few others I actually like better, if you want to come
check it out.” Sebastian hesitated, and Adam pressed a
little further, hoping he was setting the hook, not letting this
shiny little fish off the line. “I’ve got a good spot to watch it
from, if the crowd’s too much for you.”

Sebastian’s gaze shot to his, and Adam knew he had him.

“Really?” Sebastian looked like he regretted sounding so
breathless and starstruck, but the awed tone went straight
to Adam’s head. “You wouldn’t mind? I mean…”

Hook, line, and sinker; time to reel him in. Oh, wouldn’t
Keith be surprised. But it wouldn’t do for the kid not to know
what he could be getting into.

“Why don’t we go take a look at it, and you can see if you
want to watch the concert from there.” Just because he

wanted Sebastian to know what was going on didn’t mean
he wanted to announce it to all of Pride Charlotte.

Sebastian trailed along behind him on the way to the
reserved VIP seating. The security guards nodded to Adam
as they passed, and Sebastian pressed a little closer,
apparently unaware of his action. Adam felt his skin tingle
when Sebastian’s arm brushed against his, and he couldn’t
help a thrill of anticipation. He sure as hell hoped Sebastian
was on board with the threesome idea because if it was
this hot walking side by side, the sex was going to be mind-
blowing.

When they got into the VIP area, which still had a few too
many people around for Adam’s taste but was much more
private, he turned to Sebastian. “Here’s the deal,” he said,
voting for the blunt and simple approach. “Keith and I like to
invite other partners in to play with us. He mentioned that he
found you very attractive, and I have to say I agree with him.
We’d like you to come back to our hotel with us after the
show tonight.”

Sebastian’s face was starting to go pale, and Adam rushed
ahead.

“It’s not mandatory. You have plenty of time to think about it,
and if you decide you don’t want to, that’s fine. We’re not
going to be angry with you. Either way, you’re still welcome
to watch the show from one of these VIP seats, no strings

attached. Consider it my contribution to Keith’s apology for
spilling his beer on you and then being an ass.”

“He wasn’t—” Sebastian stopped, unable to finish the lie.
Adam grinned.

“He’s not

really

an ass, but I do know my boyfriend, and I

know how he comes off. It’s okay. You’re allowed to think he
was a total shithead.”

Sebastian shook his head, and Adam saw that he was
really going to argue this time. “No, I’ve met total shitheads,
and…Keith…isn’t one.” The kid seemed really awkward
about saying the name so casually, and Adam forced
himself not to smile. “He might have been kind of an ass,
but…he tried to make it better.” Sebastian shrugged, and
Adam arched an eyebrow at him, hoping to prompt him
back onto the other line of conversation.

“I’d… If it’s okay, I’d love to watch the show from here…with
you.” Sebastian cleared his throat. “And can I think about
the other for a little while? It’s kind of…unexpected.”

“Of course.” Adam motioned one of the security guards
over and then gestured to the kid. “John, this is Sebastian
Keane. He’s my guest this evening for Keith’s show. Just in
case he needs something when I’m not here, I wanted to
make sure there won’t be any problem.”

“Of course not, Mr. Cruce.” John nodded, all professional

demeanor. Adam had gotten to know him a little earlier,
and he quite liked the guy. “I’ll let everyone know.”

When John walked away, Adam looked back at Sebastian.
“So that’s it. The cat’s out of the bag. Even if you decide
you don’t want to sleep with me and Keith”—

oh

, the kid’s

blush was sweet like candy—“the security staff knows
you’re to be allowed in this area. It’s all yours for the
evening.”

He leaned in closer, turning up the charm Keith insisted he
had. He held eye contact until the last second, when he put
his lips closer to Sebastian’s ear, relishing the kid’s quiet
shiver. He let his hand skim up Sebastian’s arm to rest on
his shoulder and lowered his voice.

“And so you’re clear, so are we.”

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Chapter Two

The only word Sebastian could think of to describe his
current situation was “surreal.” Several times he had
reached for the cell phone in his pocket to text his

roommate, Jason, with something like, “Guess who asked
me for a threesome?” Every time, he chickened out at the
last minute. For one, he still hadn’t decided if he was going
to say yes, and he didn’t want Jason’s fanboy opinion to
influence him. For another, he didn’t want to be rude to
Adam Cruce—

Adam freaking Cruce

!—who was standing

beside him. The TV star grinned lasciviously as he watched
his boyfriend strutting back and forth on the stage while
Keith swiveled his hips in his leather pants and ground up
against his band members.

At first, Sebastian was amazed that Adam didn’t seem to
mind Keith’s sexual behavior with everyone on stage, but
then he remembered that they were both on board with
asking him for a threesome and figured they must have a
sexually open relationship.

And with that, he was right back to trying to figure out if he
was going to go back to their hotel with them.

It was hard to talk over the music, and in between the
music, it was hard to talk over the chatter of the audience,
but Sebastian took advantage of a lull between songs to
turn to Adam, shouting to be heard over the crowd.

“If I don’t go with you, will you pick up someone else?”

Adam blinked at him as if it was the last question he’d
expected Sebastian to ask. “Probably not. You’ve piqued

our interest, but we weren’t really intending to pick up
anyone at this event at all.”

Something about his inflection made Sebastian wonder.
“Do y’all do this often?”

Adam’s smile was like sunshine, and Sebastian almost
missed it when he said, “God, Southern boys are so cute.”
He glanced at the stage, at Keith, and Sebastian wondered
if Keith could see them from up there with all those lights in
his eyes. “But to answer your question, yeah, we do. Not all
the time, but often enough to be considered a habit.”

Sebastian nodded. That helped, knowing where he slotted
into their plans. No pressure, no strings; a one-night fling
because they thought he was, what, hot? Easy?
Interesting? All of the above? Well, damn. It wasn’t his usual
thing, and he still might regret it, but he might regret saying
“no” more. It wasn’t every day he got propositioned by his
favorite actor, and since when could he not handle a little
casual sex?

“All right,” he said, nodding. “I’ll do it, if you still want me to.”

That sun-bright smile nearly blinded him, and as Keith
counted in the next song up on stage, Adam leaned in a
little. “Do you mind if we get started now?” One of his hands
came up to brush through Sebastian’s long, sideswept
bangs. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for about an

hour.”

They’d bumped into each other only about an hour before,
so that meant… Sebastian tried not to feel flattered but
failed. He might be a plaything, a live sex toy for the couple
to share, but they hadn’t been planning to pick anyone up
here, and they’d picked

him

.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian started at the use of his name. Almost everyone
he knew now called him Baz; it sounded strange. He
decided he liked it.

“Yeah, that’s…” Keith’s band started up, and Sebastian
recognized the opening notes of that “Fire” song, whatever
it was called. “That’s fine,” he shouted over the screaming
guitar. Adam grinned and leaned in, coaxing Sebastian into
the hottest kiss he could ever remember having. Adam’s
mouth teased him expertly, Adam’s tongue slid between his
lips, and Sebastian heard a little voice inside his head
shouting, “

Oh my God, I’m kissing Adam Cruce

!”

Adam shifted closer to him, and Sebastian tilted his head,
pushing himself up on his toes so Adam didn’t have to
bend over so much. Adam’s arms caught him around the
small of his back, pulling him into Adam’s body. A long leg
worked itself between Sebastian’s thighs, and he groaned
as he straddled it, instinctively rocking down in search of

friction. Adam pushed his leg up and gripped Sebastian’s
ass, encouraging the motion, and Sebastian had to break
the kiss to gulp air as he felt himself ratcheting higher.

Adam was murmuring something in his ear, but Sebastian
couldn’t understand him over the music, and he wasn’t sure
if he was learning to love this song after all or starting to
hate it more.

“…gonna come for me?”

The words made it through the song into Sebastian’s
consciousness, and he jerked against Adam’s thigh, losing
his rhythm for a second.

Holy fuck, I am dry humping

Adam Cruce’s leg, and I am about to fucking come.

“C’mon, Sebastian…”

The hand on his ass squeezed harder, and Sebastian
threw his head back, his body arching desperately as he
abandoned all common sense and just did what Adam
wanted. Adam’s mouth found his exposed throat, licking
and kissing, and then sensation exploded through him
when Adam bit down and sucked, raising what Sebastian
knew was going to be a hell of a bruise.

“Oh,

fuck

!” he shouted as he came inside his pants,

shaking hard. Adam didn’t let him go, just held him closer,
and he leaned back against Adam’s grip, trusting the man

completely as his consciousness slowly dripped back into
his body.

Adam sprinkled soft kisses across his neck and face as
Sebastian began feeling a little less boneless, and then the
realization of what he’d done snapped into the forefront of
his mind. He looked around a little wildly, waiting for the
security guard to escort him out for public indecency. Some
Pride celebrations across the country could get kind of
raunchy, but Charlotte was so well-behaved it was
ridiculous.

None of the guards were so much as looking at them,
though. The only person Sebastian even saw paying
attention was a guy in the regular seats who could probably
barely see them, and he didn’t look upset if the hand
rubbing his crotch was anything to go by.

“Don’t worry,” Adam said at his ear, still shouting a little to
be heard over the song. “You’re safe with me.”

Sebastian’s attention snapped back to the man holding
him, and he searched Adam’s face for the meaning behind
that phrase. Did he mean Sebastian didn’t have to worry
about getting in trouble as long as he was Adam’s guest?
Did he mean that he wasn’t going to hurt him sexually?
Either way, Sebastian found he believed him and nodded.

Adam smiled almost smugly and kissed his lips again,

softer this time, not as hungry, and gently let Sebastian
slide off his leg to stand on his own two feet again. Still
trembling, Sebastian tugged his pants down so they
weren’t jammed up into his crotch, wincing at the stickiness
against his skin. In retrospect, maybe that hadn’t been such
a great idea.

Sebastian hissed when Adam palmed his crotch, his dick
too sensitive for even Adam’s gentle squeezes. Adam must
have seen his face or felt him tense, because he moved his
hand away with a wry smile, instead stroking a light touch
down Sebastian’s spine from neck to lower back and
kissing his nape.

He kept up the erratic butterfly caresses until the end of the
concert when Keith took a bow on stage and blew kisses to
the audience.

“C’mon,” Adam said in his ear over the roar of applause.
“Let’s go.”

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* * * *

Backstage was chaos, and Sebastian found himself
pressing close to Adam’s side to stay out of everyone’s
way. At least Adam didn’t seem to mind. He heard Keith a
split second before he saw him, laughing and still singing
little disjointed snatches of lyrics, and when the man came
around the corner, Sebastian just stared.

Keith was sweaty and glowing, energized and lit up from
the inside. He was smiling, and even though he should have
been exhausted after everything he’d put into that show, he
was damn near bouncing on his toes. Sebastian felt Adam
shift beside him and looked up to see a look of utter
adoration cross the older man’s face.

“Baby!” Keith called out, clearly angling for Adam. “Was it
awesome? It

felt

awesome.”

“It was amazing,” Adam said, his hand skimming over
Sebastian’s lower back, including him in the statement,
reminding them of what they’d shared during Keith’s show.
“It was so good, I brought you a present.” He pushed lightly,
just enough to make Sebastian stumble forward.

Keith’s eyes flicked to Sebastian, apparently noticing him
for the first time, and his expression brightened with
unfettered delight. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

With a little less energy, a little less enthusiasm, it would
have sounded unbearably cocky, but somehow Sebastian

felt warmed by Keith’s happiness. Keith approached
Sebastian more cautiously than Sebastian would have
expected, but he reached for Sebastian’s face with
something like drunken fascination.

“So pretty,” he murmured. Fingertips dragged down
Sebastian’s jaw to his throat, and Sebastian fought a
shiver. The soft touch didn’t match anything from the
arrogant man he’d met earlier, although the way Keith
looked at him like he was a particularly tasty tray of hors
d’oeurves told him it wouldn’t stay this tentative for long.
“You’re coming with us?”

Unlike their earlier encounter, Keith’s tone of voice this time
kept the clear entendre from sounding dirty. It could almost
be innocent except for the low undercurrent of lust running
through the words.

Adam was looking at him expectantly, and Sebastian
realized they were waiting for him to answer. “Yeah.” It
came out reedy and thin, and he cleared his throat before
he repeated it louder, more firmly. “Yeah, I am.”

“Mm.” Keith’s eyes fluttered closed blissfully for a moment
before he turned to Adam, his other hand stroking over the
hollow of Adam’s throat. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

Adam caught Keith’s hand and brought it to his lips instead.
“I’m always good to you. Go get showered and changed so

we can go, okay?” He kissed Keith’s fingertips again, and
Sebastian felt more like an interloper than a boy toy as he
watched. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

Adam’s fingers twitched against Sebastian’s lower back,
and the weird feeling was gone. He’d forgotten Adam was
still touching him, what with the way Keith was feeling up his
chest.

“Yeah, okay.” Keith kissed Adam with a relish not unlike a
starving man biting into a ripe, juicy apple and then
regarded Sebastian for a moment. The kiss he gave
Sebastian wasn’t nearly as possessive as the one he’d
given Adam, but the warm, wet push of tongue was enough
to make Sebastian arch into him, body buzzing with
memory and anticipation.

Then he was gone, and Sebastian was drawing in
shuddering breaths, leaning against Adam until he didn’t
feel quite so dizzy. Adam chuckled and traced up
Sebastian’s back to ruffle his hair, petting through the long
blond bangs and brushing over the shorter, darker hair in
the back.

“He’ll settle down some after his shower. Performing
always gets him like this. I’d swear he was high if I didn’t
know better.” Adam punctuated his reassurance with a kiss
to the side of Sebastian’s head. “Are you okay?”

Sebastian was aware of everyone backstage—musicians,
dancers, road crew—who had seen the little exchange
between the three of them. Everyone knew that Sebastian
was going to be Adam and Keith’s toy for the night. He
thought about the assumptions they could be making about
him, a skinny little twink with makeup and a Keith Black tour
shirt on, leaning against Adam, lips swollen and jeans
already stiff with come.

Adam stepped away from him, putting a little more distance
between them, and really

looked

. “Are you still okay with

this?” He pitched his voice low, reassuring, too quiet for
everyone else to hear.

Sebastian remembered riding Adam’s thigh to orgasm,
remembered watching Keith kiss Adam like he was going
to eat him alive, and thought about what they were offering
him. Adam was still waiting for an answer, and Sebastian
asked slowly, “Can I be in the middle?”

The smile that spread across Adam’s face made his kiss
with Keith look innocent.

“You can be wherever you want.”

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* * * *

They rode back to the hotel in a hired SUV with privacy
glass between them and the professionally detached driver.
Keith had, as predicted, calmed down after his shower. He
still seemed to be riding the edges of euphoria, but
Sebastian no longer wondered what would come up on a
drug test. Adam sprawled comfortably on the seat across
from Sebastian and Keith, his back to the driver. Passing
streetlights illuminated him briefly, and every time,
Sebastian saw that his calm, smirking gaze was settled on
either Sebastian or Keith.

“Sebastian.” Adam’s voice was quiet, but Sebastian still
jumped. “Do you need to let anyone know you won’t be
home?”

Sebastian thought of Jason. There was a fifty-fifty chance
his roommate wouldn’t even be home, much less worried
about where Sebastian was, but it would probably be a
good idea to tell him, just in case.

“Just my roommate.” He fumbled his phone out of his
pocket, suddenly aware of Keith’s attention turning to him
from where it had been wandering who-knew-where. He
texted Jason a short, uninformative

Don’t wait up for me

and then stuffed his phone back into his pocket after turning

the volume down.

Keith’s hand was already trailing across his forearm by the
time he put the phone away, the touch not quite light enough
to be ticklish but enough to raise shivers in its wake. “So,
kitten…”

“Baz.” His tone was sharper than he’d intended, but he
didn’t take it back.

Keith’s smile was a little apologetic, a little sad as he
allowed himself to be corrected. “Baz. You look good in my
shirt.”

There was just enough leer in his voice and sparkle in his
eye that Sebastian could tell he knew the line was cheesy—
and that he’d get away with it anyway.

“He feels even better than he looks.” Rather than break the
rising tension between them, Adam’s voice seemed to
smooth it out, weave it thicker, and Sebastian swallowed
as Keith gave him an evaluating look. “Tastes good too.”

Keith’s attention snapped to Adam then, playfully
challenging. “What? You sampled him first?” Keith shook
his head as if in disappointment. “Always sneaking tastes,”
he scolded. He leaned into Sebastian, fingers curling
around Sebastian’s wrist. “I’d like it to be my turn now.”

Sebastian hesitated, then nodded, and Keith pulled him

closer, his free hand sliding up Sebastian’s back, over the
shorter hair on the back of his head and into the long bangs
that fell across his face. Keith caught the bangs and pulled
them back—keeping them out of the way but also using
them to hold Sebastian in place while he plied Sebastian’s
mouth open with his tongue.

He kissed like he danced—full of sensuality and confidence
and sex incarnate—and Sebastian found himself melting
into the embrace. The hand not in Sebastian’s hair slid up
under that stupid tour shirt, skimming over his back and
then his ribs, and he barely heard Adam’s voice over the
sound of his own moans.

“He rode my thigh in front of the whole audience at your
concert,” Adam said, obviously talking to Keith. “Rutted
against me like he was in heat. Came just from humping my
leg.”

Keith groaned into Sebastian’s mouth, the hand in his hair
clenching harder.

Adam’s voice deepened as he continued. “He’s still in the
same jeans. We’re going to have to ask to have them
cleaned at the hotel. Everybody’s going to know what he’s
been up to when he comes in walking between us, all hot
and bothered, and then we send his jeans down for
washing.”

This time it was Sebastian who couldn’t restrain a lustful
noise at Adam’s description, squirming against Keith. His
dick was filling, pressing against his uncomfortably stiff
jeans. He shifted, trying to find a better position. Eventually
they had to break the kiss to breathe, and Keith traced
Sebastian’s lips with two fingers, teasing around the
swollen edges until Sebastian opened his mouth and took
them in, suckling.

“I want him between us,” Keith said, his voice rough, and
Sebastian shivered uncontrollably.

Yes, please

. He

realized he’d bitten down on Keith’s fingers and licked
them in apology, soothing them with his tongue like he
might Keith’s cock. “I want to watch him swallow your cock
while I fuck him—or hell, the other way, I don’t really care.”

“Shit, baby.” Sebastian dimly noted that Adam’s voice was
closer to them, and that was all the warning he got before
he felt another tongue lapping at Keith’s fingers, licking
over Sebastian’s lips, and Sebastian let go of Keith’s hand
to turn and meet Adam’s mouth full-on.

Keith pulled Sebastian into his lap, his back to Keith’s
chest, and Adam crawled over both of them, fucking
Sebastian’s mouth with his tongue as Keith reached down
to work Sebastian’s jeans open. Keith had just gotten his
hand inside Sebastian’s too-tight pants when there was a
knock on the privacy window.

Adam broke away from the kiss with a curse and opened
the window barely a crack. “Yes?” His voice was rough,
breathless, and Sebastian arched up into Keith’s hand,
missing Adam’s body against his own.

Keith kissed his ear as he palmed Sebastian’s dick
through his messy underwear, and Sebastian was
profoundly disappointed when the driver said, “Sir, we’re
here.”

Chapter Three

Keith was still riding the bright edges of the rush he got
from performing—he swore it was better than sex—and
hazy with the golden glow of arousal that Adam and
Sebastian were warming in him. He hadn’t been able to
see them while he was on stage, but he didn’t doubt Adam
was telling the truth about rubbing Baz off in front of
everyone. For one thing, Baz still had the evidence in his
underwear.

He was glad Baz was young enough that his time with
Adam had probably been more of an appetizer than a main
course, because when Keith was coming down off this
much of a music high, he could go all night. He sometimes
wondered if that wasn’t half the reason Adam went along
with picking up a third lover, especially on nights when

Keith had a concert—someone to help wear Keith out
before he wore

Adam

out.

Energy buzzed under his skin, like blue electricity in his
veins, and he was reluctant to let go of Sebastian long
enough to get his pants zipped up. Adam waited until Baz
was no longer indecently exposed before he opened the
door of the SUV and helped them out onto the sidewalk.
Baz looked a little dazed himself, and Keith couldn’t resist
nuzzling behind the kid’s ear. The short hair on the back of
his head was soft and a little bit tickly, and Keith loved the
way it felt against his face.

“C’mon, you two,” Adam instructed, subtly herding them
toward the door of the hotel. “Try to tone it down until we’re
in the room, okay?”

Keith heard him, and he wanted to do what Adam said, but
Baz felt

so good

, all shiny and silver and sugar-sweet on his

tongue.

“Keith.” Adam’s voice was sharp now, and he hauled Keith
away from the kid. Keith blinked, coming back to himself.
Adam’s face came into focus, stern and unsmiling, and
Keith forced himself to sober up a little. “Can you control
yourself, or do I need to take Sebastian up first and come
back to get you?”

“No, I’m fine.” He took several deep breaths, focusing on

calming the buzz in his skin, and Adam nodded in approval.
“But maybe you’d better check us in.”

Adam chuckled but didn’t touch him as he usually would
when Keith made him laugh. Instead he took a step back,
obviously conscious of Keith’s precarious control over his
baser impulses. “We’re already checked in, babe. Now
let’s see if we can’t get up to our room without you causing
an incident like last time.”

That

had

been bad. Who would have thought that hotel

managers in Reno would be prudish enough to kick them
out just because they’d had sex in the elevator? All right, so
it had triggered a safety alarm when they’d pushed the Stop
button, and it had been a glass elevator. Still, Keith thought
it was wildly unfair that Adam, still carefully not touching
Keith, tucked Baz against his side as they walked into the
building. It wasn’t like Keith was

that

untrustworthy.

They did make it up to the room without incident, aside
from the one middle-aged woman who stared at Keith’s
very noticeable bulge as they passed her. Keith didn’t feel
he could be blamed for that—it wasn’t his fault that he was
well-endowed, that his pants were kind of tight, and that
he’d been staring at Adam’s and Baz’s finely shaped
asses all the way up the stairs. Okay, so maybe the last two
were his fault…but understandable.

He’d been a good boy, so the last thing he was expecting

once they got into the suite was to be denied, but Adam
grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pointed to a chair
in the corner of the room, sitting at an angle to the king-size
bed.

“Sebastian.” The kid jumped to attention, his eyes snapping
to Adam. Keith knew how he felt; when Adam went all
toppy, it was damn hard not to fall at his feet. “Go sit in that
chair.” A smile curved Adam’s mouth, hot and wicked. “You
can take off your pants if you want to.”

While Baz did as he was told, Adam pulled Keith in closer
to himself, keeping just enough space between them that
Keith could feel the heat radiating from his body even
though not an inch of them was touching. “You,” he purred at
Keith, “are going to give him a lapdance. I’ll be watching
you every second, so make it good.”

Keith groaned and automatically leaned into Adam, but his
lover held him away, denying him so much as a brush of
skin except the hand at his collar. A shiver worked its way
down Keith’s spine. Dominance games of all flavors were
part of their extensive repertoire, and while he doubted
Adam was going to go with full-on daddy play with a third in
the room, Keith’s balls tingled in hot-red anticipation
anyway.

“I know you’re a good little whore, so I want to see you
dance like one.” Adam’s voice was low and raspy, and

Keith shivered. He loved it when Adam called him names,
added just that bit of humiliation. It wasn’t something he
wanted all the time, but when he was fighting to contain or
channel the energy from performing, he needed that extra
push. The fact that Adam knew him that well settled him and
let him loose to explore this wildness.

In a daze, he started walking toward Baz, but Adam’s voice
halted him as sharply as if he’d pulled on a leash.

“Stop.”

Keith stood waiting, trembling as he listened to rustling
behind him. He identified the sound of Adam’s clothes
hitting the floor, the subtle squeak of Adam’s weight denting
the mattress, and then the thumping when Adam fluffed up
the pillows. “All right. Go on.”

Keith dared a glance out of the corner of his eye, just
enough to confirm his suspicions. Adam was sprawled on
the bed, leaning against the headboard with a kingly air,
miles of California tan stretched out like a banquet of sin.
His cock wasn’t completely hard yet—and Keith had to
admire the man’s detachment—but it was already thick and
long, firming as Adam stroked himself casually, as if it
didn’t matter if he ever got off or not. He was obviously
waiting for Keith to give him a show.

Keith turned his attention to Baz, who was sitting

uncomfortably in the chair in his underwear and the T-shirt
with Keith’s face and name on it, his slack-jawed attention
focused completely on Adam. Well, Keith always did like a
challenge.

He slithered into Baz’s lap, careful not to touch him. It
wasn’t a proper lapdance unless there was sufficient
teasing. He stripped his shirt off over his head, and when
Baz’s hands came up automatically to explore the exposed
skin, Keith caught his wrists and guided them back down to
the arms of the chair.

“No touching,” he explained, grinning as he undulated his
hips slowly. “That’s extra.”

Keith saw Baz’s eyes flick over to Adam, but Adam didn’t
say a word. Keith broke his own rule long enough to grip
Baz’s chin and bring his face back around.

“Look at me.” He arched toward Baz, sliding the hand from
Baz’s chin down to his throat. He didn’t exert any pressure,
just left his hand there as a silent threat. Baz looked up
obediently, and Keith felt the sudden heaviness in his
crotch as his dick filled, swelling even further against his
pants. He was sure that at this point, anyone looking at him
could provide accurate measurements and an educated
guess as to whether or not he was circumcised.

In the time between meeting Baz that afternoon and seeing

him again that evening, Keith had begun to think that
maybe he’d exaggerated his memory of the brightness and
color of Baz’s eyes. If anything, the memory hadn’t done
them justice. Even in the low light of the hotel room’s lamps,
they gleamed like gemstones scattered on the floor of the
Caribbean. Nobody should have eyes that blue.

There was no music in the room, but that wasn’t a problem
for Keith, who would have a rainbow of songs buzzing
through his veins for another couple of hours at least. He
smiled when Baz’s amazing eyes finally focused on the
slow roll of his hips, the ripple of his abdomen, and the play
of his own hand across his chest.

Keith let go of Baz’s throat in order to frame the outline of
his cock with his thumbs, rubbing his palms over his
hipbones as he thrust into Baz’s face. He could see the fine
tremor in Baz’s arms as the kid struggled to keep his hands
on the chair where Keith had put them. Keith could feel
sweat beading on his chest and arms, slick moisture
forming at the small of his back and across his shoulder
blades.

“He’s been good,” Adam said from his perch. “Give him a
kiss—and then bring him to me.”

Keith smiled and leaned in, letting his lips tease Baz’s with
butterfly brushes, chaste and utterly debauched. Baz still
didn’t break the embargo on touch, and Keith rewarded

him with his tongue, licking into Baz’s mouth, tasting the
corners with gentle flicks and a long, slow rub over the soft
palate.

When he drew back, he was gratified to see that Baz’s
pretty eyes were unfocused, his mouth red and slightly
open. It made Keith want to kiss him again, but he stood
and dragged Baz with him over to where Adam waited for
them on the bed.

“Clothes off,” Adam commanded, and Baz woke up enough
to obey, his eyes darting hungrily between Keith and Adam.
It took Keith longer to peel out of his leather pants than it
did for Baz to shed the shirt and his underwear, and when
they finished, Adam held out a hand to them.

“Now the way I see it,” Adam said with a purr, “I’ve given
both of you one orgasm apiece today, and I haven’t gotten
off yet. I think the two of you should fix that.”

“It’ll take both of us,” Keith said, grinning down at Adam’s
cock, now fully erect and curving up against his belly. “I
know for a fact I can’t get that whole thing in my throat.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Adam admitted fondly.

“Jesus,” Baz breathed, and Keith realized it was the first
thing the kid had said in ages. “It’s huge.”

Keith smirked. Adam did have an impressive dick, but it

wasn’t so much the size as what he could

do

with the damn

thing. Holy mother of God and all her wacky nephews, as
the saying went.

“Yeah.” Keith held back laughter, giving Adam a quick wink.
“We’ve had guys refuse to take Adam up their ass. Scared
to death of that monster.”

Baz tilted his head as if he were calculating the exact angle
it would take to fit Adam’s cock inside him—Keith could tell
him; if there was an angle called “Hallelujah,” that was the
one—and then surprised them both when he swooped
down and stuffed half of Adam’s cock in his mouth.

Adam groaned and fought to keep from bucking up into
Baz’s throat, and Keith just watched for a minute. Baz’s
bangs concealed only half of his face, but the ends were
long enough to tickle Adam’s groin, and Keith could see
from the way the skin twitched that it was driving Adam
nuts. So of course Keith ruffled Baz’s hair, making more of
it fall against Adam’s skin, brushing over the base of his
cock and his ball sac.

“Get down there,” Adam growled through clenched teeth,
reaching up to clasp the back of Keith’s neck. He pushed
just enough to get his point across, and Keith smiled at him.

“In good time, angel.” He was having too much fun watching
Baz, who apparently had something of a competitive

streak, trying to open his throat enough to get Adam all the
way down.

He gave it the old college try and didn’t do half bad, but he
had to give up. He backed off coughing and trying not to
gag, his eyes watering from his valiant efforts. Keith leaned
in and kissed the corner of his mouth before saying, “Let’s
start slow, huh?”

To show the kid what he meant, Keith stretched out beside
Adam’s legs on the comforter and stroked over his hip,
cupping Adam’s balls in his hand and rolling them gently as
he began licking around the base of Adam’s cock. He
lapped up the side and over the head before settling down
with the shaft, slurping and kissing.

“C’mon.” He looked up at Baz. “Take the other side.” When
Baz crouched down and gave Adam’s cock a tentative lick,
looking far too cautious about not bumping noses with
Keith, Keith let go of Adam’s balls and reached over to
grab Baz’s neck. “Go ahead. Kiss me. Just keep his cock
in the middle.”

It was harder than it sounded, especially with Adam’s porn-
star dick, but Baz got the hang of it soon enough. Keith felt
Adam’s hand tangle in his hair and looked up to see that
his other hand was gripping Baz’s long bangs. They kept it
up until Adam’s hips started bucking, and then Keith
nudged Baz up to the head of Adam’s cock, both of them

taking turns mouthing the crown before they settled into a
tongue battle at the slit, lapping salty drops of precum from
Adam’s skin and from each other’s lips.

When Adam came, Keith jumped back to keep the shot
from going up his nose—that had happened once, and he
was determined it was never going to happen again—but
Baz rubbed his face against Adam’s cock, smearing
semen everywhere. Adam jerked helplessly, and Keith
kissed him through the aftershocks as Baz continued the
cleanup with his tongue.

“Fuck.” Adam’s voice was so raw Keith thought he sounded
like he’d been the one trying to deep throat Moby, as Keith
sometimes jokingly referred to his whale of a dick. “Give
me a second to be able to see you clearly, and then I
wanna watch you fuck him, Keith.”

Keith arched his eyebrow as he glanced down at Adam’s
slowly softening cock, still red and twitching against his
stomach. “I thought we were going to put him between us.”

“We can do that later.” Adam caressed his hip clumsily,
thumbing over the small, dark tattoo that sat between
Keith’s hipbone and the base of his dick. “Right now I really
want to watch you fuck his ass.”

Keith nodded and reached over to push Baz’s messy hair
out of his face. “Christ, kid.” He laughed. “You’re going to

need a whole week of showers.”

Baz’s smile could have tempted angels out of heaven. “I
plan to get dirtier before I get clean.”

Adam laughed, and Keith shook his head, grinning. “All
right. Are you okay with me fucking you while Adam
watches?” He didn’t think the kid would say no, but it never
hurt to double check once they got to this stage.

“Oh yeah.” He gave Adam a sly look through his long,
glittery eyelashes. Keith found himself wondering for a
second if they were falsies or if he had just found some
really amazing glam mascara. “But then later, I want this in
me.” He palmed Adam’s dick so possessively that
something inside Keith twitched. He couldn’t tell if he

really

liked watching Baz do that or if it touched off some kind of
weird jealousy.

To take his mind off it, he grabbed a condom off the
bedside table—Adam must have put them there while Keith
was giving Baz his lapdance—and rolled it on over his
erection. He took a minute to lube up Baz’s ass, playing a
little while he was there and pressing firmly against his
prostate just to get him worked up. Then he put the head of
his dick against Baz’s hole and waited.

“Tell me when,” he said, his fingers flexing on Baz’s
smooth, narrow hips.

“Whe-n,” Baz said, his voice breaking in the middle as
Keith shoved in. “Oh

God

.”

Keith figured they would have time for more foreplay later;
he knew his erection wouldn’t be going down for hours. It
was one of the best and worst things about performing; it
kept him horny all night long. If he was hungover the next
morning, it was usually from too many orgasms and not
enough sleep rather than any combination of drugs or
alcohol. But he hadn’t had an orgasm since before sound
check, and he needed one

now

.

Baz wasn’t complaining; in fact, he was making all kinds of
sexy, ecstatic noises that zinged right through Keith’s balls.
Baz was braced on his hands and knees over Adam’s
body, and Keith watched them kiss as he thrust into Baz,
trying to slow down long enough to make sure Baz got a
little more out of it than just the thrill of having Keith’s dick in
his ass.

He didn’t have anything to worry about. Just when Keith
was getting ready to pry his fingers off Baz’s hip long
enough to stroke him off, Adam did it for him. Almost as
soon as Adam touched him, Baz tensed and shouted, his
ass clamping down around Keith’s dick as he came all over
Adam’s stomach and chest.

“Oh

fuck

!” Keith had been close anyway, but the ripples of

Baz’s orgasm tore it out of him so forcefully it almost hurt.

He bent over Baz’s back, humping into him with erratic end-
thrusts, trying to keep his dick inside that tight, twitching
warmth as long as he could.

“Damn, that was hot.” Of course Adam was the first to say
anything; Keith was pretty sure he was the only one whose
brains weren’t currently leaking onto the sheets. He’d had
time to recover from his orgasm after all.

“Mm.” Baz sounded blissed out, almost sleepy, but he
whined a little when Keith pulled out of him, even though
Keith tried to be careful. Keith knew he’d really been
banging away at the kid; the least he could do was go easy
on him on the way out.

Keith flopped to the bed beside Adam, and Baz collapsed
on top of both of them, his head tucked under Keith’s chin,
his hand in Adam’s hair. “If I’m still asleep in thirty minutes,”
he said, his words slurring into Keith’s skin, “you can wake
me up…as long as it’s that good the second time.”

Chapter Four

Adam came awake slowly to harsh, quiet breathing and
soft squelching sounds. The high-quality mattress didn’t let
him feel much of the motion, but he knew before he even
opened his eyes that Keith was balls-deep in Sebastian
again. Lucky for them, the kid didn’t seem to mind getting

fucked three times in one night, and Keith was finally
getting to burn out all of that manic energy.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Sebastian’s voice wavered as Keith
pushed into him rhythmically, but he sounded genuinely
pleased. Flat on his back, knees up by his shoulders, he
gave Adam a ridiculously smug grin.

“So are you,” Adam pointed out, trying on a sleepy smile.
“You getting tired of him yet?” He indicated Keith with a flick
of his eyes, and Sebastian laughed quietly. They were both
talking in low tones, as if there were someone else in the
room they were trying not to wake.

“Just getting him ready for you,” Keith said, pulling out of
Sebastian so quickly the kid gasped and arched reflexively.
Keith stripped the condom off his still-hard dick and tossed
it on the floor—they already had a hell of a mess down
there—before kneeling to the side. Sebastian lay there in a
nest of pillows and rucked-up blankets, limbs sprawled,
looking thoroughly debauched with his mascara smeared
under his eyes and random bits of glitter clinging to his hair.
More glitter sparkled on the pillows, and Adam smiled at
him.

“Are you sure you want me tonight?” He let his hand wander
down over Sebastian’s mostly soft dick, between his legs
to his well-used asshole. “You’re going to be sore in the
morning as it is.”

“I’m sure.” To his credit, Sebastian barely flinched at
Adam’s light touch, giving Adam a come-hither look so full
of temptation it brought to mind serpents and apples and
original sin. The thought made Adam smile; with his name,
he was practically obligated to give in. It was tradition.
Sebastian reached down between his legs and pushed
Adam’s hand more firmly against his hole. Repeated
applications of lube had made it wet and sticky, the skin
warm and a little swollen from Keith’s steady pounding. “I
only have one night, right? So I want you now.”

Adam almost told him of course they’d have more than one
night, and he had to check that at the door. Damn, it usually
only took him a couple of hours to tire of the groupies and
hustle them off to their own rooms, not try to assure them
that they were more than the one-night stands they totally
were.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point. All right.” He slapped Sebastian’s
hip. “Up. Hands and knees.”

Sebastian flipped over, scrambling into position, and Adam
took a moment to run his hands appreciatively over the
slender back and the smooth, subtly curved hips. “So nice.”
He pulled on his own dick, helping it up to full erection, and
grinned when Keith appeared at his side with an open
condom.

“You want his mouth?” Adam asked while Keith rolled the

condom down Adam’s dick. Sebastian glanced over his
shoulder, already licking his lips. He’d been savagely
kissed from the cherry-red look of them. Or maybe Keith
had already had his mouth while Adam had been asleep.

Keith hesitated and glanced at Sebastian, and Adam
thought that was telling. Keith

never

hesitated about taking

what he wanted from the groupies, leaving it up to them to
tell him to stop if he crossed a boundary. “You okay with
that?”

Sebastian reached up to rub his throat, appearing to
consider it, and then he winked. “Will you feed me ice
cream afterwards?”

Keith laughed, a low, wicked sound that vibrated right
through Adam. “Baby, I will feed you ice cream off my dick if
you want it.”

Suited up, Adam knee-walked up to Sebastian’s ass, not
bothering with the lube. Sebastian was slicked up enough
already. Adam rubbed the head of his cock over
Sebastian’s hole, giving him another moment to pull away,
to say he was too sore, to change his mind. He didn’t; he
pushed back against Adam, wanton and open, and Adam
figured that was good enough.

He held his cock steady as he pushed into Sebastian’s
ass, going slowly because he knew he was thicker than

Keith. No matter how much Keith’s fucking had stretched
Sebastan’s hole, it was still going to be tight.

Sebastian let out a low, guttural groan like a wounded
animal, and Adam stopped with just the head in, gritting his
teeth against the urge to thrust. He could feel the gripping of
Sebastian’s inner walls and knew the kid wasn’t ready for
more. Sebastian was panting now, and Adam reached up
to stroke soothing hands down his back, then over his
sides.

“Just relax,” he cooed. “Just let me in, baby.”

Without warning, Sebastian shoved back, taking him all in
one thrust, and Adam barely heard Sebastian cry out over
his own shout. He still had his eyes closed, his fingers
digging into Sebastian’s hips to keep either of them from
moving, when he felt Sebastian wriggle under his hands
and heard muffled groans and wet, slurping noises.

He looked up in time to see Keith with his hands in
Sebastian’s hair, thrusting his dick into Sebastian’s mouth.
Sebastian took it with enthusiasm, his head bobbing. From
the look of bliss on Keith’s flushed face, he was doing a
damn good job of it too.

“Thought I’d distract him from your mankiller, babe,” Keith
panted, one of his hands petting Sebastian’s neck.

Adam huffed a breathless laugh and forced his hands to

relax on Sebastian’s hips. The beautiful boy stretched out
between them, taking both their cocks and almost literally
begging for more. Adam felt his dick throb at the sight, and
Sebastian must have felt it too. He groaned around Keith’s
dick and rocked his hips, rubbing against Adam’s groin.

In some ways, Adam thought with the two brain cells he had
left, Sebastian’s tightness worked in the kid’s favor. It
meant that even with his orgasm earlier, Adam wouldn’t last
terribly long, and no matter what Sebastian said, Adam
worried about him not being able to sit down for a week.

But he wanted Adam to fuck him, and Adam wanted to fuck
him, and now Adam had his dick in Sebastian’s ass, and it
was time to stop thinking already. After making sure he had
a good grip on the kid, Adam withdrew slowly, loving the
drag and pull of Sebastian’s muscles against his dick. He
worked himself out until the flared head of his cock caught
on the tight sphincter, and then he shoved back in sharply.

Sebastian yelped around Keith’s dick, pulling off for a
minute to catch his breath as Adam rotated his hips,
pressing his cock into Sebastian’s soft inner walls. When
Sebastian had recovered enough to take Keith’s dick back
into his mouth, Adam slid out again. This time, Sebastian
was more prepared for Adam’s thrust, and he went all the
way down on Keith’s cock.

Keith shouted in surprise when Sebastian deep throated

him, and Sebastian made a guttural noise of pleasure.
Before he pulled out again, Adam leaned forward over
Sebastian’s flushed back and grabbed Keith by his neck,
dragging him into a rough kiss, tasting his lover’s mouth.
He let go quickly so Keith didn’t stay down Sebastian’s
throat too long. He didn’t want the kid passing out from
having his air cut off.

Adam started up a steady, shallow rhythm, just enough to
stimulate Sebastian’s prostate. He waited until Sebastian
started to relax into it, and then he pulled out and slammed
back in. Sebastian let go of Keith and howled, and when
Adam felt the clench around his dick and realized that
Sebastian was freaking

coming

without even a hand on his

dick, Adam lost it. He thrust harder, faster, fucking
Sebastian through an orgasm that seemed to go on for
hours. Sebastian’s spasms were ending when Adam felt
his own orgasm flare out from his lower back, making his
hips stutter in their rhythm as he shoved his dick as far into
Sebastian as he could get it, groaning with the force of
coming.

“Jesus

fuck

,” he gasped when he could get his breath back.

He pulled out carefully, going as slow as possible because
damn, that poor kid had to be hurting by now, and flopped
onto the bed on his back. He was dimly aware of Sebastian
curling up beside him and Keith shifting around.

He felt the cool press of hard cock at his hole, and Keith

lifted his legs, hooking Adam’s knees over Keith’s
shoulders as he slid home.

“I was gonna ask Baz if he wanted to fuck you,” Keith
grunted as he thrust hard, going for broke from the
beginning. “He took your Moby dick; he oughta get your
ass.” Adam’s spent cock made a valiant effort toward
arousal at the thought of Sebastian fucking him, but he was
too far gone to rise again. Not all of them had Keith’s mania
to keep them going all night. “But I think he’s done for,
man.”

Adam managed to open his eyes and saw Sebastian lying
there, half unconscious but watching Adam with a half-
lidded gaze. Adam reached out, his hand clumsily finding
Sebastian’s cheek. He’d meant to stroke the kid’s face
gently, but he found he didn’t have the coordination for it.
Sebastian didn’t appear to mind.

Keith was rabbit-fucking him now with short, sharp, rapid
thrusts, and even though Adam was far past done for the
night himself, it still felt good. In only a few moments, Keith
jerked and grunted, filling the condom inside him. Adam
regretted that part of picking up groupies and fucking the
hell out of them—they never felt quite safe enough to go
bare.

Adam was aware of Keith pulling out, of him palming the
condom off Adam’s dick, and even of being cleaned by a

warm, wet cloth. The gentle strokes felt good on Adam’s
still-throbbing dick and hole, and when he heard a quiet
whimper beside him, he thought Keith must be cleaning
Sebastian off too. He hoped Keith was being really fucking
gentle with the poor kid.

Adam was on the verge of drifting off again when Keith,
less manic than earlier but still with more energy than either
Adam or Sebastian, started prodding him.

“C’mon, man,” Keith grumbled. “Your feet are on my pillow.
You know I hate that.”

Adam groaned but managed to rearrange his body so that
his head was on the pillow instead. He was dimly aware of
a small body curling into his—Sebastian?—and then
blankets were dragged up over them, and darkness
swallowed the room when Keith killed the lights.

* * * *

When Adam woke the next time, it was to a room awash in
soft gray light and a pair of bloodshot turquoise eyes
staring at him through droopy eyelashes.

“Hey,” Adam croaked, wishing instantly for a glass of water.
He tried to work up enough saliva to swallow, but his mouth
felt as dry as a desert and almost as gritty. “How’re you

feeling?”

“Okay.” Sebastian winced and then admitted, “Sore.”

Adam gave him a wry smile and brought his hand up to
brush Sebastian’s hair back from his face, stroking his
eyebrows with a thumb. “Sorry if we were too rough on you.”

Sebastian shook his head but not enough to dislodge
Adam’s hand. “I liked it. And it’s like Thanksgiving, right? It
only happens once a year, so it’s totally okay to overdo it.”

Adam smiled and had just started to drift again when
Sebastian said, “Um, Adam?” He still sounded like saying
Adam’s name felt awkward, which—after everything they’d
done a few hours ago—seemed very wrong.

“Yeah?”

“I was just… You don’t have to answer, but… You know they
say you and Keith break up more than cell-phone reception
in an underground bunker.”

Adam snorted. He hadn’t actually heard that exact phrasing
before. “I’m aware of the perception, yes.”

“But it’s just…you two don’t seem like you have that kind of
tension. My friends who break up and get back together
like that, you can still see the cracks, you know?”

Adam kept petting Sebastian, thinking of how to phrase his
answer. He didn’t want to tell the kid too much about Keith’s
issues, no matter how much he and Keith liked Sebastian
or how well they clicked with him sexually. Sebastian was
still a fanboy, a young one at that, who might let the
information slip to the wrong person even if he didn’t do it
on purpose.

“We have an agreement,” Adam finally settled on. “A kind of
open relationship. We’ve never felt the need to discuss it
with the press, so when they see one of us with someone
else, they tend to think we’ve broken up.” It was usually
Keith who needed the outlet, who needed the sex to come
down after a concert ramped him up, and Adam couldn’t
always be there. He’d been known to seek out his own
companions from time to time, but he didn’t need it like
Keith did. “But we only broke up once, and it wasn’t over
bed partners.”

It had been over Keith throwing such a fit he’d wrecked a
hotel room—literally wrecked, complete with smashed
mirrors and broken furniture, a shattered television, and a
hole in the wall from a leaded-glass tumbler that had been
aimed at Adam’s head.

Adam had walked out, and six hours later, after he’d cooled
down some, he’d checked his voice mail to find
increasingly frantic messages from Keith. In the next to last
one, Keith had been sobbing so hard Adam could barely

understand him. In the very last one, Keith’s voice had been
dead, devoid of any inflection, and for a man who was so
full of life it sometimes hurt to look at him, that was more
terrifying than any ranting and raving.

Adam had rushed back to Keith’s hotel room to find him
passed out amid the debris on the floor, an empty bottle of
vodka beside him, his breathing and heartbeat far too
shallow and faint for Adam’s peace of mind.

The ironic thing was, the press had never even known
about that breakup. By the time the media got wind of it, all
the reports focused on Keith’s breakdown, the rockstar
workover he’d given the hotel room, and the faithful support
of his boyfriend as he checked himself into rehab.

“Wow.” Sebastian smiled. “I’m glad, though. It’s… I guess
it’s silly, but I like knowing you’re together.”

Adam pushed forward to kiss the tip of Sebastian’s nose
and then down to brush over his lips. “That’s adorable.”

And somehow, even after all the lewd acts he’d been
involved in the night before, that was what finally brought a
bright pink stain to Sebastian’s cheeks and made him bite
his lower lip in embarrassment. Adam kissed him again,
trying to distract him from abusing his mouth any more than
it already had been. He was a little surprised when
Sebastian’s tongue slid into his mouth. Warm and slow and

strangely intimate, they kissed as the light in the room
brightened to the lemon yellow of an early October morning.

The kiss faded naturally, leaving them nuzzling each other’s
faces, and Adam felt compelled to ask. “Do you need one
of us to take you home?” He pushed himself up to look over
Sebastian’s shoulder, smiling when he saw that Keith had
wrapped around the kid like a limpet, his face pressed into
Sebastian’s back. “Well, it’ll probably be me. It’ll be all I can
do to wake him up in time to get to the airport.”

Sebastian looked disappointed at the reminder that it had,
in fact, been only for one night. Oddly, Adam thought he
could identify.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll walk to the bus stop.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Adam petted his hair, the long
bangs and the short, fuzzy cut in the back. “Let me hire a
car for you, at least. It’ll be hard enough for you to sit on a
comfortable seat, much less a bus.”

Sebastian’s face went a little pale at the reminder, and
Adam chuckled.

“Here.” Adam groaned as he sat up, his body protesting.
“Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number so you can
text me when you get home and let me know you got there
safely, all right?”

Sebastian didn’t move, and Adam glanced back over his
shoulder to make sure he was all right. The kid was lying
there like he thought the roof would cave in if he so much as
twitched an eyelash, and Adam stared at him for a minute.
“Trust me, if you give my number to your friends and I start
getting a lot of calls, I will change my number so fast it will
make your head spin.”

“I—I wouldn’t! I swear I won’t.”

Adam gave in to the need to stretch and yawn, reveling in
the ecstasy of stiff joints popping loosely into place.
Sebastian finally got it together enough to get his phone out
of the pocket of his discarded pants and hand it to Adam.
The bright pink flip phone sported a sparkly, rhinestone-
studded case, and Adam almost didn’t catch his laugh in
time to change it to a cough.

After he’d programmed his number in and given the phone
back to Sebastian, who looked like it cost him an awful lot
not to open his address book and stare at it, Adam lay
back on the bed and held his hand out to Sebastian.

“C’mon,” he said. “We stayed up late, and our flight doesn’t
leave till this evening. Let’s get some sleep. Unless you
have somewhere to be…?”

Sebastian hesitated for the time it took Adam to breathe in
and out twice, but then he dropped his phone and crawled

back onto the mattress, snuggling down between Adam
and Keith. Still asleep, Keith naturally turned in to the
warmth of Sebastian’s body and slung his arm across
Sebastian’s waist. Adam pressed in from the front and
rearranged Keith’s hand so that it rested on Adam’s hip,
pinning Sebastian securely between them.

After a couple of valiant attempts not to yawn in each
other’s faces, Adam and Sebastian both followed Keith’s
lead and passed the hell out.

Chapter Five

Sebastian closed the door of his apartment and leaned
against it, letting his eyes drift shut. He was exhausted, and
yes, so very sore. Riding home in the car Adam had hired
for him had hurt, and he’d imagined the driver’s judgment
every time he’d squirmed uncomfortably on the seat. It
wasn’t like Adam had done anything inappropriate with him
in front of the driver, and Keith had still been sound asleep
upstairs, but Sebastian knew he looked like he’d been
ridden hard and put away wet. Probably because he had
been.

Now, though, as he stood inside his quiet, familiar
apartment, the aches and pains in his body were a
welcome reminder that he hadn’t just imagined the whole

night. He’d had Keith Black and Adam Cruce inside him
practically all night long, and nobody he told would ever
believe it.

Maybe he just wouldn’t tell. Now there was a thought.

“Baz? Is that you?” Jason stepped out of the bathroom to
the right of the entry hall, toweling his hair. Sebastian hadn’t
even realized the shower was running until the sound of the
water stopped. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly expecting
Jason to be home on a Sunday morning. Afternoon. Okay,
evening.

Jason looked him up and down and whistled. “Damn. So
either things went

really well

with Russell, or you got the hell

beat out of you.”

Russell

? Oh, right. The guy he’d gone to Pride with. Wow,

that seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d practically forgotten
about the man, but aside from feeling bad for Russell’s
boyfriend, he couldn’t say he was sorry things had turned
out as they had.

“Neither.” Sebastian pushed himself away from the door,
steadying himself against the wall. His bedroom was at the
other end of the apartment, but if he couldn’t make it that
far, the living room and the couch were on the way. He
could just collapse there.

“Neither? Shit, you didn’t go to Bread and Circuses and

“Neither? Shit, you didn’t go to Bread and Circuses and
volunteer for one of their sex rooms, did you?”

Sebastian had to bite back a laugh. He doubted even
Bread and Circuses’ famous sex rooms could hold a
candle to the workout he’d gotten. “No.” And then because
he knew Jason wouldn’t stop asking until he got an answer,
he stopped at the door to his bedroom and leaned against
the door frame. “I found out Russell wasn’t single. We ran
into his angry boyfriend at Pride, so I ditched him and ran
into…someone else. He had a boyfriend too, but it turns out
they’re into sharing. They were both pretty hot, so when they
asked me to go to a hotel with them, I did.”

Jason’s eyes were like saucers, his mouth hanging open
so far Sebastian thought about making lewd jokes about
what he could fit in there. “No way! Dude! You never go
home with people!”

That was true. But it wasn’t like he got invited by Adam
Cruce and Keith Black every day either. Sebastian
shrugged. “Like I said—they were hot.” He stood up and
winced as his body twinged. “And hung.”

“Did you get pictures?” Jason saw the answer on his face
and scowled. “Pics or it didn’t happen!”

Sebastian huffed a dry laugh and shuffled into his bedroom.
He wriggled out of his shirt, jeans, and underwear—which
they had forgotten to send for cleaning—and flopped,

facedown and naked, onto his bed. He knew he had marks
all over from Keith’s teeth and Adam’s hands, not to
mention the raw and most likely red warzone that was his
asshole.

“Dude.” Jason, who had obviously followed him into his
room anyway, sounded half awed, half scared. “They
fucked you up.”

“It was good,” Sebastian mumbled into his pillow. “But now
I’m tired, so please go away and let me die. Don’t bother
me for the next two days unless my corpse starts stinking.”

“I think you’ve already got a head start on that.” He could
hear Jason fidgeting, hesitating in the doorway, and turned
his head to see him. “Um…are you going to class in the
morning, or can I borrow the car?”

“Where’s your car?” Sebastian found that worth sitting up
for; he hated letting people borrow his car.

“At the mechanic’s. Got a flat tire crossing a railroad track
and bent the wheel bad. It should be ready soon, but not in
time for my eight o’clock lit class.” When Sebastian still
hesitated, Jason pressed. “C’mon, man. I’ve got Hawkins,
and you

know

how she is about attendance.”

“Fine, but if you wreck it, scratch it, bump it, dent it, or even
so much as get crumbs on the seat, you’re covering my half
of rent for the next three months.”

“What? Baz! That’s not even fair! Your car’s not even

worth

that much!”

Sebastian shrugged and flopped back down on the bed.
“Those are the terms of the deal. If you don’t like it, ride the
bus.”

He could practically hear Jason flounce out of his room, but
he didn’t care. That meant he had more time to sleep. Just
before he drifted off, he remembered Adam’s number in his
phone, his admonition to call to say Sebastian had made it
home safe, and he roused himself enough to dig the phone
out of his pants pocket on the floor.

With bleary eyes and a clumsy thumb, Sebastian typed out
a brief message.

Home safe. Sore, just like you said. Worth it tho. :)—Baz

He closed the phone and dropped it on the floor. He was
asleep before he ever heard it hit.

* * * *

It was Tuesday before Sebastian felt fully human again. He
still caught himself pulling out his phone in class—when it
wasn’t one of the professors who would dock his final

grade for every time they saw him touch it, blah blah blah—
to reread Adam’s message, which he had saved.

Glad you’re safe. Sorry you’re sore—but not sorry for how
you got that way. You were gr8. Thx.—AC

He got butterflies in his stomach every time he read it,
every time he remembered that AC stood for Adam Cruce,
that

Adam Cruce

had enjoyed fucking him. By the time

Thursday rolled around, he’d jerked off so many times over
that text that he was making himself sore in an entirely
different way. He’d also started playing with two of his
dildos at once, testing himself, seeing what he could fit in,
imagining what it would be like to share both men like

that

.

On Thursday night, when he and Jason and several of their
friends had their weekly popcorn party to watch the new
episode of

Boyfriends

, Sebastian found himself getting

hard every time Adam’s character, Jamie, was on the
screen. He found himself comparing Jamie to Adam.
Jamie was a self-centered asshole who couldn’t keep a
boyfriend for more than two dates, but he had Adam’s
smile and Adam’s eyes, and he did this thing where he
smirked at guys when he started flirting that was an awful lot
like how Adam had looked at

Sebastian

right before he’d

fucked him into the mattress.

After the episode, while Sebastian was cleaning up the
popcorn bowls and couch-diving for the stray kernels that

would drive him crazy until he got them cleaned up, he
listened with half an ear while his friends talked about the
show.

“That Jamie guy is hot, but he’s an asshole.” That from
Peter, a guy Jason knew better than Sebastian did. “No
wonder Keith Black keeps leaving him.”

“Keith Black isn’t dating Jamie,” Melinda said, and
Sebastian could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “He’s
dating the

actor

, not the character.”

“Yeah, but he’s an asshole!”

“It’s called

acting

, shit for brains,” Sebastian snapped

before he could stop himself. He felt everyone looking at
him. Pete wasn’t

his

friend, and he was overstepping some

serious boundaries. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to
tone it down some. “Just because a guy plays an axe
murderer or a doctor doesn’t mean he’s those things in real
life, so what makes you think he’s a jerk?”

Peter mumbled something into his beer bottle, and
Sebastian decided to ignore him. He was in the kitchen,
loading dishes in the dishwasher, when Melinda came up
behind. She had a couple of soda glasses in her hand, and
he took them from her.

“So,” she said, leaning against the counter. “What was that

about?”

Sebastian shrugged. “What was what about?”

“You defending Adam Cruce.” She grinned. “Does our little
Bazzy have a crush?”

“Shut up, Mel,” he said without heat, pouring the detergent
into the little capsule and closing the door. “I just hate it
when people are stupid.”

“Mm-hmm.” She grinned. “I believe you.” She kicked his
foot, and he spared her an irritated scowl. “That’s the real
reason you hate Keith Black, isn’t it? You’re jealous.”

“It is not!” He thought back over what she’d said. “And I
don’t hate Keith Black.” Oh God, did he not hate Keith
Black. He did not hate Keith Black so much that his cock
started filling at the thought of him. “I just got tired of that
one song of his.” He punched the dishwasher’s Start button
with a vengeance.

Melinda looked like she was about to say something else
when her boyfriend called her from the living room. “Mel!
Are you ready to go? We’ve got to make it by the store
before they close.”

“On my way!” She punched Sebastian’s shoulder as she
left the kitchen. “See ya around, Baz. I’ll see if my sister
wants to get rid of any of her Keith Black posters for you to

put up on your wall.”

Sebastian rubbed his arm after she was gone, making a
face at how much the light punch had hurt. He hated to
admit it, even to himself, but if Melinda brought him that
poster? Yeah, he would totally put it up on his wall. And
probably use it to aid his jerk-off fantasies, which so far had
revolved almost exclusively around memories of Saturday
night.

Just thinking about it was enough to make Sebastian reach
down to palm his chubbed cock through his pants. He didn’t
even realize his eyes had drifted shut until Jason’s voice
snapped him out of his daze.

“Dude—do you have a thing for the dishwasher that I didn’t
know about?”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian retorted automatically, flipping his
roommate off.

“Do you want me to roll around in dishwasher detergent
first? ’Cause I could, but I gotta tell you, man, that’s a
fucked-up kink.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, headed to his
bedroom. He slammed his door shut on Jason calling out,
“Hey! Do you prefer the efficiency setting or the extra rinse
cycle?”

* * * *

Friday morning, he bought Keith’s album and uploaded it to
his MP3 player. He listened to it whenever he wasn’t in
class on Friday and all day Saturday. About seven o’clock
Saturday night, after he’d almost learned all the words to
every song, he realized it was almost exactly one week
since Adam Cruce had gotten him off to one of these
songs. He fished out his phone, flipped it open, and reread
the text Adam had sent him.

Shaking, he hit Reply and sat staring at the empty form for
several seconds. What was the worst that could happen?
Adam could ignore his text. No—the worst would be that
Adam would tell him he was abusing the gift of Adam’s
phone number and to stop texting him.

And if that happened—well, then he would stop texting him.
Deciding that he had balls for a reason, dammit, he typed
in a message.

Tell your boyfriend that his album is pretty good if you
skip tracks 5, 7, and 9.—Baz

He had to close his eyes and pretend he wasn’t doing it
before he hit Send. Once the swooshy envelope symbol
showed a bright green check mark, he held his breath,
waiting for the return message from Adam saying, “Look,

waiting for the return message from Adam saying, “Look,
you were a good fuck, but leave me alone now.”

When nothing appeared for several long moments and
Sebastian was starting to feel light-headed, he put the
phone down and picked up his statistics homework out of
self-defense. He found he couldn’t concentrate on
predicting the Y slope from the X variable, so he threw his
notebook down, got up, and got dressed in the sluttiest,
glammest outfit in his closet, and did a quick and dirty job
on his eyeliner before he called Jason to see where the
party was tonight.

He wasn’t surprised to hear that his roommate was at
Bread and Circuses—the newest gay club in town with a
heavy emphasis on fetish was Jason’s favorite place to be
since it had opened—and he was glad to know that at least
he would be able to dance his ass off, even if half the songs
ended up being by Keith Black.

Maybe he’d even find someone to go home with. Maybe
even two someones.

The bouncer at the front door waved him to the front of the
line, groping his ass on the way, and Sebastian gave him a
perfectly coquettish look of surprise. “Get in, pretty boy,” the
bouncer laughed. Sebastian paid the cover charge,
showed his ID, and got his hand stamped even though he
knew he couldn’t afford alcohol at club prices, and wriggled
his way onto the packed dance floor.

He’d been dancing long enough he was coated in sweat,
shouting along to the chorus of some dance-remixed disco-
era hit with the rest of the sex-crazed Saturday-night crowd,
when a hand slid over his crotch with so much familiarity
that the owner almost got himself an elbow in the ribs. As it
was, Sebastian pushed him back, giving him a scowl to let
him know not to do that again.

“Sorry!” the guy yelled. He turned away from Sebastian, but
not before flipping him off. “Asshole!” He slammed into
Sebastian under the guise of stumbling, and as Sebastian
was much smaller, he went reeling forward into a big butch
dyke in leather who looked at him like she thought he ought
to be spit-shining her motorcycle boots.

“Sorry!” Sebastian shouted at her, much more sincerely
than the other guy. She turned away before he had a
chance to blame the guy behind him, and he rolled his
eyes. This was why he didn’t go clubbing as much as Jason
did. He loved the look of glam, he loved the music, and he
even loved the dancing. What he didn’t love was the
proprietary way that some guys thought his twink ass was
available for fucking. Not unless you’re an actor or a rock
star, Sebastian thought with a giddy rush.

And when Keith Black’s “I’m on Fire”—he’d finally learned
the title, along with all the words—blasted out over the
speakers, Sebastian cheered along with the rest of the
crowd and boogied down, thinking that he would bet the

guy who grabbed his dick hadn’t been fucked by Keith
Black.

Take that, “asshole

!”

Sometime around one o’clock Sunday morning, Sebastian
finally stumbled off the dance floor, exhausted and
dehydrated. The bouncer at the door smiled at him on his
way out, and Sebastian managed to give him a friendly
wave. He could tell from the way the guy’s eyes followed
him that he was hoping maybe Sebastian was up for a
quick one behind the building on the bouncer’s smoke
break, but all he wanted was to go home.

He’d driven himself, knowing he wasn’t going to drink
enough to need a cab, and he took a second to breathe
after he settled down in the driver’s seat. He dug his phone
out of his pants—not the pocket; these pants didn’t have
any—to check his messages. He’d had it on vibrate,
knowing he would never hear it over the music, but he
figured he probably wouldn’t feel it over the dancing, either.

His in-box showed three new messages, and he checked
them. Jason, asking if he’d ever gotten to the club and
where he was. A notification from his bank that his
checking account was low. And—

Adam Cruce

.

Trembling, he opened the text from Adam, resisting the
urge to cover his eyes and peek at it through his fingers.

Ha! Tell him yourself, babe

. And then there was a ten-digit

number, separated into a pattern of three, three, four. Keith
Black’s phone number. Adam had given him Keith’s phone
number.

Holy fucking shit.

He dropped the phone on the passenger’s seat and rested
his forehead against the steering wheel, sucking in deep,
shaky breaths. He sat there for probably two full minutes
before he was steady enough to start his car and drive
home.

Chapter Six

Keith hated Salt Lake City. Not because he had anything
against Salt Lake City—well, not except for the overall
politics of the area—but because there was fuck all to do in
the heart of Utah. Sure, the state might have awesome
skiing and snowboarding and other type things, but
concerts in Salt Lake were a study in preshow boredom
and avoiding the protestors. After all, he was gay,
promiscuous by most standards, and really freaking
eccentric. He was a prime target for conservative hostility.

What that meant for Keith was that he was trapped with
nothing to do. Adam was filming and therefore ignoring his
increasingly random and obnoxious text messages, and he
wasn’t even going to think about trying to pick up a pretty

little boy and accidentally ending up with angry Mormon
parents breathing down his throat.

He could feel his mood darkening; he saw it in his mind like
colors. Maybe his aura or some shit, whatever. All he knew
now was that he could see his mind going into deep blue,
heading closer to black. Those moods worried him,
because they were hard to get out of. It was hard to find
himself in them; he got lost and wallowed for a while, and
when he came out, it was to find he’d done something
stupid in the interim. Like trashed a hotel room or forced his
boyfriend to break up with him. Usually he could keep
himself out by chasing good feelings—music, sex,
alcohol…any of that would work. Of course, he was an hour
out from curtains, only his bandmates were available for
sex—just…no—and the last time he’d gone on stage drunk,
his tour sponsors had threatened to pull their capital. He
wasn’t risking that again.

So in the meantime, he was half-assedly playing some
stupid vampire game on his phone and wishing his band
would stop avoiding him so he could stir up some trouble
with them. It was at times like this, deprived of any of his
coping tricks, that he considered seeing a specialist,
maybe finding out if there was a magic pill he could take.
But if it got out that Keith Black was seeing a psychiatrist,
especially that he was on meds…damn. It’d be worse than
the time he checked into rehab. People expected rock
stars to do illegal drugs and go on drinking binges, but

sponsors and record labels got twitchy if the words “mental
illness” were uttered anywhere in the vicinity.

At least he wasn’t as bad as his dad had been. Jesus fuck,
that man was a mean old son of a bitch. Keith couldn’t be
sorry he never heard from him anymore.

Just as he got his second Game Over in two minutes—and
really, how the fuck did you play this game, anyway?—the
icon for a new text message appeared at the top of his
screen.

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” he muttered under his breath. “About
damn time.” He exited the game and pulled up his
messages, frowning when he saw that the message wasn’t
from Adam but from a number he didn’t recognize.

Shit

.

Should he open it and risk shoving himself off the edge into
that dark mood if it was something he didn’t want to deal
with, or should he leave it there and risk gradually floating
off the edge anyway?

“Fuck it.” He opened the message and had to read it twice
before it made sense.

Hey Keith—hope this is OK. AC gave me your #. Finally
got your album—s’good. Rock on—Baz

“Well now.” He grinned. “The little lost kitten is back for
more.” His dark blue mood turned bright purple around the

edges, and he hit Reply. He couldn’t have explained it if his
life depended on it, but the first time he’d seen Baz, the kid
had reminded him of a tiny spitfire kitten trapped out in the
rain. Keith was torn between antagonizing him and bringing
him inside for a bowl of warm milk.

Well. “Warm milk.” Heh.

Hey Baz—glad you like it! What’s your fave song to jerk
off to?

He grinned when he hit Send. Either the kitten would go off
to a corner to sulk or the claws would come out. Keith was
hoping for the second option; he could use a distraction. He
left all his apps alone while he waited for a reply, his leg
jiggling with the adrenaline that was starting to ramp his
system.

What he wasn’t expecting was the reply he got.

I’m On Fire. That’s the one Adam got me off to at your
concert. I get hard at the first note now.

“Oh yeah. Game on.” Keith shifted in his seat, feeling a low,
happy thrum in his balls—just like those deep red and
orange notes the bass guitar hit sometimes.

I’ll think of you when I’m doing that one tonight. If I tell you
when we start playing, will u jerk off to it while I’m singin?

He would get the text ready ahead of time, and when the
band started playing, he would hit Send. The sexy orange
notes vibrated up his hips into a sensual deep gold in his
lower stomach, and he sat up. His night had just gotten a lot
more interesting.

Yeah—fuck yeah. Shit, that’s so hot. I’ll send you a picture
to prove I did it.

His mood was turning bright blue now; the only darkness
left was at the very center, and he would need that to draw
from during the performance.

Keep yourself ready, baby. I’ll send it when the music
starts. Gotta run now. XXX.

He sent a quick note to Adam to let him know Baz had
gotten in touch with him, and then he shoved his phone in
his pocket and went off to find his band and see if they
could start sound checks yet.

* * * *

“You know what the best part of being me is?” Keith
shouted into the microphone. He paused for dramatic effect
and then said, “You! You guys are

awesome

!” He was

answered by a sea of sound—all bright white and shining

gold and

perfect

.

Despite the protestors lining the streets outside the E
Center, the stadium was packed with adoring fans waving
homemade signs and filming every goddamn second on
their cell phones. He would probably go online later and
look for the vids. Maybe he’d send a couple to Adam.
Maybe to Baz. And speaking of his little sex kitten…

He pulled out his phone and held it up to the audience. He
brought up the camera and said, “Hey, Salt Lake—say

cheese

, bitches!”

He laughed as he snapped the picture, his ears ringing with
an entire stadium full of people gamely shouting “Cheese!”
at him. Once he’d saved the picture, he had an excuse to
fiddle with his phone, and he brought up the text he’d
drafted for Baz.

Hey babe—hand on your dick in 3…2…1. I’m On Fire for
you.

He hit Send and tucked his phone away, signaling for
Manny to count them in. The drummer counted off the
downbeat, and Keith strutted into the song, leading with his
hips. He could feel the shimmering energy from the crowd,
the lime green buzz from the music that wrapped around his
balls, and a bright red thread of anticipation from thinking
about Sebastian jerking off

right that second

to thoughts of

Keith and memories of Adam. He took it all inside and
wove it together into the sexiest dance these kids would
see outside of a titty bar. Elvis wasn’t the only rock god who
could ping the censors just by shaking his moneymaker.

Manny could tell when he had a good groove going, and
they looped back through the bridge so Manny could have
an extended drum solo and Keith could have a few more
hip thrusts and shoulder rolls.

They ended with a flourish, Keith on his knees at the edge
of the stage, blowing kisses to the screaming girls—and
boys, he noticed with a grin—in the front row. He was
breathing hard and dripping sweat by the time he stood up,
and the world was so bright it was blinding.

Soaring on the feeling, Keith stood in the middle of the
stage, threw his head back, and yelled, “I fucking love this
city!”

* * * *

After the show, it was Manny’s job to get him into the
shower. Keith was at his most vulnerable and fragile while
he was coming down off a good gig, and he liked it best
when Adam could come along. Adam had just the right
touch, just the right mix of sternness and tenderness—and it
didn’t hurt that there was usually sex to help the transition

from Keith Black, rock-and-roll god, to Keith Black, regular
guy.

But for shows when Adam wasn’t there, Manny was the one
who herded him into the shower, handed him his
comfortable clothes, and rode in the limo with him back to
the hotel. Manny was also in charge of making sure that any
piece of trim Keith picked up was of age, sober, and fully
aware of what was going on.

The groupies usually didn’t like the fact that Manny rode in
the car with them to the hotel, but that was when Keith
needed him the most. Manny had saved Keith from a
couple of near-disasters with hustlers, pickpockets, and
one enterprising young man who had bugged himself with
intentions of selling the details of their sexcapade to the
highest bidder. Keith had wondered how the hell the kid
had thought he was going to explain that little wire when
Keith undressed him in the hotel room.

Tonight Manny watched him carefully as they walked past
all the fans making grabby hands at him from behind the
barricades and holding out Sharpies for him to sign
posters, CDs, body parts. One girl wanted him to sign her
breasts, and he managed to talk her into letting him sign
her T-shirt instead. One young man with pretty-boy features,
enough glitter to be a Cher impersonator, and the tightest
pants Keith had seen outside his own wardrobe, leaned in
close and said, “Will you sign my dick? My tattoo artist said

he’ll make it permanent if you will.”

Keith blinked and took a step back. The request for an
autograph on various intimate body parts was nothing new,
but somehow the idea of the guy getting it tattooed freaked
him out. He didn’t want his name permanently engraved on
some dude’s penis. He thought about offering to sign the
kid’s arm instead, but he decided he didn’t like that either.

He gave the guy back his Sharpie and hoped his smile
tipped more toward “friendly” and less toward “seriously
skeeved out.”

“Uh, yeah… Um. Thanks for coming out, man. You have a
good night.”

He was anticipating the grab and had already started
backing away, but he hadn’t been expecting the guy to start
climbing the barricade. Ugly streaks of glaring chartreuse
flared across his mind, screaming

danger, Will Robinson,

danger

! as the heel of his boot caught on something and he

staggered backward.

Two security guards were on the guy, shoving him back, as
someone caught Keith from behind and steadied him. “Be
careful!” Keith shouted at the guards. “Don’t hurt him!”

The rueful laughter at his ear was familiar, and Manny said,
“For fuck’s sake, Keith. The guy tried to attack you. Let
security do their job.” Gripping Keith’s upper arm, Manny

security do their job.” Gripping Keith’s upper arm, Manny
raised his voice so the fans and the guards could hear him.
“Face time’s over tonight, folks! Thanks for comin’ out!”

Keith stumbled along as Manny dragged him toward the
car. There would be no groupies tonight, not after that stunt.
Keith found that he wasn’t all that disappointed, but he still
grumbled as the driver pulled away, headed toward the
hotel.

“It’s not like he was trying to

hurt

me,” Keith protested. “He

was just a little overenthusiastic.”

“Seriously, man.” Manny gave him the biggest

sit still and

shut up

look he’d ever seen out of the guy. “Some of these

kids? They’re mentally unbalanced. Seriously insane. Their
overenthusiastic is your hospital bill and canceled tour.”

Keith turned to the window to hide his flinch. He knew
mentally unbalanced. He knew how fast high emotion could
turn physical in the darkest ways. It wasn’t like he of all
people needed to be told.

“If you need somebody to fuck that bad, I will come up to
your room myself, but I am not facing Adam Cruce and
telling him I let some goddamn mental patient fuck you up.”

“I don’t need your pity fuck,” Keith snarled at him, angry
crimson spiderwebs catching at his words as he forced
them out. “I am not such a fucking

mental patient

that I can’t

keep it in my pants for one motherfucking night!”

“Whoa, man, I didn’t say you were. Dial it down, dude.”
Manny leaned away from Keith, and suddenly there was a
gaping fissure of black opening right down the center of his
thoughts. He needed…something. He needed

out

.

“You know what? Fuck you, Manny. Just…

fuck you

.”

They sat in boiling, dark red silence the rest of the way to
the hotel, and Keith shoved out of the car as soon as it
stopped, knocking back the valet who had stepped up to
open his door.

Well, there goes another gossip site headline, Keith
thought bitterly as he stormed into the hotel to the bank of
elevators. He punched the button so hard shocks of pain
shot up his arm, and when he got inside, he closed the
doors before Manny could get on with him. Shaking, on the
edge of that gaping darkness in his mind, he fumbled for
his phone and opened it, praying to whatever deity might
give half a shit that Adam was done filming and wasn’t
asleep yet. He needed someone to talk him down from this.

When he opened his phone, there was a blinking icon
telling him he had two new text messages. The first was
from Adam.

Seriously baby? 37 texts? Is it that boring in SLC?

Keith felt some of the colors tilt toward softer hues when he
imagined the smile Adam had probably been wearing
when he sent that. The second one was from Baz, and
there was a brief sparkle right along the edge of his senses
when he saw the name.

Knowing you were singing for real made that awesome.
Not as awesome as the night with you and Adam. Thx for
everything.—Baz

There was a picture attached: Baz’s

stomach splattered with cum.

Suddenly the rope around his chest loosened, and he found
he could breathe. When he opened his eyes, the inside of
the elevator was silver and mahogany—all the colors it
really was. The stinging feeling under his skin was ebbing
into a pleasant thrum of postadrenaline buzz, and he
pressed the button for his floor.

When he got to his room, he turned the television on to VH1
Classic, dialed the volume all the way down, and curled up
on the bed with a diet cola and his cell phone.

He hesitated for a second before he went to Recent Calls
and highlighted a number. He was still debating hanging up
when the connection opened.

“H’lo?”

“Hey, baby.” Keith snuggled down into his pillow and tried

to ignore how guilty he felt for interrupting Adam’s sleep.
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“No, it’s fine, babe. It’s fine.” There was a barely stifled
yawn and a sleepy sniff. “What’s the matter? Are you
okay?”

Keith took a deep breath, held it, and thought seriously
about spilling it all. It wasn’t like Adam didn’t know how he
could get. But he knew Adam was on a hard filming
schedule and didn’t need any more stress, and he finally let
the breath out in a gusty sigh. “No—I’m—I’m fine. I mean, I
miss you, but I’m fine. I just…after-show, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, babe. Do you have anyone with
you?”

“No. I-I’m probably going to go to sleep in a little while. I just
wanted to call and hear your voice. But I’ll—I’ll let you get
back to your beauty rest.”

Adam laughed softly, and Keith wished he could curl up
inside the sound. “Yeah, some of us need it more than
others. Sweet dreams, baby. I love you. Call me if you need
me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Night, babe. Love you.”

He closed the phone and dropped it on the bed beside
him, staring sightlessly at the television playing an old TLC

video. The sun came up before he fell asleep.

Chapter Seven

“Yo, Cruce!”

Adam schooled his features into careful blankness before
he turned, looking up from his sandwich and chips. “Hey,
Cameron. What’s going on?”

“Your boyfriend—is he your boyfriend this week?—made
the tabloids again. Seems he had an altercation with his
drummer and broke a valet’s wrist last night.” Cameron
Bryce, who played one of Jamie’s ex-boyfriends on the
show, was not Adam’s favorite costar. Conversations like
this were just one of many reasons.

“That’s nice.” Adam had found that the easiest way to get
out of these conversations was to pretend he didn’t care,
even if he knew he was going to be taking his cell phone to
a room that locked and calling Keith to get a rundown on
what had happened the night before. Or what Keith
remembered happening the night before.

Goddamn it,

Keith. I asked you if you were okay.

Cameron’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, so he’s not your
boyfriend this week.”

“Don’t bother trying to sell that story.” Adam bit a healthy
chunk out of his turkey on marbled rye and took his time
chewing before he continued. “The tabloids are tired of our
drama by now. Besides, you know we’ll only be back
together in a day or two.”

Cameron didn’t look happy, but he left Adam to finish his
lunch in peace. Adam checked his watch—Keith teased
him endlessly about being the only man under fifty who still
wore a watch in this age of digital cell-phone clocks—and
saw that he had eight minutes left before they were due
back on set. Assuming Keith actually answered his phone,
they might have a couple of minutes for a serious
conversation, one where Adam made sure Keith was telling
him the goddamn truth.

There was a tiny cleaning supplies closet just off the props
room, and Adam figured that was his best bet for now. He
squeezed himself in between a mop and a shelf full of
pungent cleaning solutions and dug out his phone. He
pulled up Keith’s number and put the phone to his ear as he
listened to the tinny ring.

“Hey, handsome—what’s up? I didn’t expect to hear from
you till tonight.”

Keith’s sunny, easygoing greeting both soothed Adam’s
worry and piqued his temper, and he had to take a deep
breath so he wouldn’t snap at his lover. Chastising him

could undo whatever hard work Keith had done to get to the
point he could answer the phone like that.

“Hey, babe,” he said instead, going for light and
affectionate. He could hear the cracks of strain around the
edges, but maybe Keith couldn’t. “How are you today?”

“Doing fine.” His voice was too cheerful and a little flat at
the same time. Yep, there was something there. The
brightness was a thin mask Keith was holding on to.

Just

great

. Seven minutes before he had to be on set was not

the time to dig up whatever shit was going on in Keith’s
fucked-up head.

“You gonna have time to talk to me tonight, or are you going
to fuck yourself into oblivion after the show?”

A shaky breath from the other end, and Adam winced.
Maybe he’d accidentally brought it up anyway. Had
someone rejected Keith last night? That didn’t seem right—
even in the heart of Mormon country, there should have
been any number of groupies ready to jump into Keith’s
bed. Maybe Manny had run interference again and Keith
had been upset, but usually Keith liked Manny vetting his
bed partners when Adam wasn’t there to do it. Keith wasn’t
normally at his most logical after a show.

“No, I… unless someone comes looking for me that I can’t
resist, I’m probably going to lay low tonight.” Keith’s dry

chuckle sounded kind of brittle, and Adam felt his heart
twist. He hated being this far away when Keith was having
a streak of bad days.

“Well, baby, if someone you can’t resist finds you, call me
and leave the phone open beside the bed, okay?”

This time Keith’s laugh was low, pleased, and Adam felt the
tension knotted at the base of his spine loosen as his lover
teased, “Miss me?”

“I always miss you, sweetheart.” Adam was aware he was
veering more into mothering territory than they usually did,
but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. “Look, you’re
going to be in Vegas, aren’t you? I’ll come to the show.
We’ll find someone to take back to the hotel with us.”

Keith sighed. “Vegas isn’t for another month. Any chance
you could come to Phoenix? Or Denver?”

“I will find a way.” The promise slipped out far too easily.
Keith rarely asked him to come to shows, and Adam’s
worry had just spiked by several points. “Sweetie, look, I’ve
got to go, but keep your phone with you. I’ll try to text you
between takes.”

“Okay.” There was some fidgeting, something that sounded
like Keith might have been cupping his hand around the
phone. “Love you.”

Adam twitched with guilt. Keith had a

thing

about saying “I

love you” over the phone. Namely, he hated it. Dammit, he
would go to the Denver, Phoenix,

and

Vegas shows if they

had to write him out of an episode. “Love you too, babe.”

It wasn’t until after Keith hung up that Adam realized he’d
forgotten to warn Keith that rumors of them breaking up
would be hitting the sites soon. Again.

* * * *

They were almost done with the day’s filming when Adam’s
phone vibrated in his pocket. The director usually made him
leave it somewhere else on set, but with Keith in a fragile
mood, Adam was bending a few rules. He finished his
scene, but he pulled out the phone as soon as they called
cut.

He opened the text without looking at who it was from, and
he was confused for several moments after he first read it.

Saw online you and Keith broke up again. Not over
cheating this time. Rumor?—Baz

Adam laughed once he finally realized it was Sebastian,
the kid they’d picked up in Charlotte. Adam supposed he
really shouldn’t encourage the contact, but Sebastian had
seemed like a sweet kid and hadn’t made a pest of

himself. In fact, he’d sent Adam a total of two unsolicited
texts in the weeks since their night together. He
remembered Sebastian telling him that it was important to
know that Adam and Keith were together, so Adam didn’t
hold this one against him.

On the other hand—damn, Cameron had wasted absolutely
no time calling up the gossip sites with that one. The
knowledge that Cameron had been contacting TMZ or
Perez Hilton or E! News with the false rumor while Adam
had been doing his best contortionist impression in a tiny
cleaning closet, trying to keep Keith from falling apart, set
his nerve endings on fire with anger.

He would deal with Cameron later. Right now he figured he
would answer Sebastian and then check on Keith.

Rumor. Nosy coworker getting his story wrong. Not a big
deal.

He hesitated and then added,

Thx for checking.

He wasn’t sure if he was thanking Sebastian for caring
about them or for getting the story straight before he
believed the rumor mill. Either way, he was probably
encouraging the kid when he shouldn’t.

Before he could hit Send, another message popped up,
covering the screen.

Been thinking about watching u suck my dick. So hard

right now.

He blinked at the message. The readout didn’t show a
number, just UNAVAILABLE. It could be anything from a
very embarrassing wrong number to someone sending out
spam messages to someone he’d slept with once and
promptly forgotten. He didn’t usually give his number out to
one-night stands—another place where Sebastian was an
exception—and he didn’t usually keep them around long
enough for them to go nosing through his stuff while he
slept, but it was possible. Maybe he’d gone to clean up in
the bathroom and some enterprising hookup had seized
the opportunity.

“Cruce! Hurry up! We need a retake, and we’re all ready to
go home!”

“Just a minute!” He closed the spam message, sent the
one to Sebastian, and then started a new one to Keith as
the director’s assistant called his name again, impatience
and threat in her tone. He fumbled the touch keyboard on
the iPhone’s screen and huffed in frustration as he typed as
fast as he could:

Rumor abt breakup untrue. Call u tonight.

Love.

The last thing he needed was for Keith to hear one of those
rumors when he wasn’t in the best place emotionally and
start

wondering

. Especially since this one would probably

say that Adam had confirmed aloud that they were on the

outs, what with his stupid noncommittal answer to
Cameron.

He slid his cell phone into his pocket and headed back to
the other side of the cameras. He was determined to make
this take perfect so he could go the hell home already. He
fought his best to channel his energy into his performance.

On the plus side, it was easier than normal to be an
asshole to Cameron’s character.

* * * *

The guilt over carelessly fueling breakup rumors about his
own relationship only lasted for the time it took the herbal
relaxation supplements to kick in once he got home.
Feeling like he was floating on a cloud of apathy—a soft,
sweet cloud with a comfortable pillow—Adam kicked back
in the empty California-king bed and stretched until all his
joints popped.

He wriggled until the pillow cradled his head exactly the way
he wanted, slipped on his expensive noise-canceling
headphones, and turned his phone to vibrate before
dropping it in the middle of his chest. The headphones
really were state of the art, and he wouldn’t stand a chance
of hearing his phone when Keith called him. He set his iPod
to play what Keith mockingly called his “Zen Spa Playlist”

and closed his eyes.

It was much easier to ignore stress with the headphones on
and the herbal supplement trickling through his
bloodstream. He’d done such a good job of it that by the
time Keith called, the buzzing of the phone against his
chest woke him with a start. He reluctantly removed the
headphones and answered the call, rubbing sleep out of his
eyes.

“Meditating?” Keith asked as soon as Adam said hello.

“If you call lying flat on my back in the bed ‘meditating,’ then
sure. Oh, don’t forget the part where I was snoring.”

Keith chuckled, and the tone was already much better than
it had been that afternoon. Adam couldn’t help but wonder
which stress reliever Keith had chosen this time. No matter
how many times Adam offered Keith his pills, Keith
refused. Said they made him queasy.

How natural supplements could make Keith queasy when
the man had been known to have Jack Daniels for
breakfast—admittedly, not in a long time, but it used to be a
regular thing—Adam didn’t exactly know.

“Where are you tonight?” It was an inane question, but it
kept him from asking if Keith had anyone with him. He
didn’t like how jealous it would make him sound if he
asked, especially because he wasn’t. He would be kind of

piqued if Keith had already fucked the guy without letting
Adam listen in, but that was because he liked to listen. And
watch too, but neither of them felt safe with video. If it was
recorded, it could eventually be leaked to the press. That
much they’d learned, both separately and together.

“South Dakota. Rapid City, I think. Or maybe we just drove
through Rapid City. I don’t remember anymore.” Keith’s
yawn crackled across the connection, and Adam fought the
instinct to follow suit.

“You sound tired,” Adam observed. “Pick up somebody to
help wear you out?”

“Nope.” Keith didn’t sound too sad about that either, which
was just wrong. Two nights in a row, Keith hadn’t had a
piece on the side, and even if he wasn’t hitting the gay
capitals of the United States right now, there was always
somebody willing to go home with Keith Black. Even sitcom
actors old enough to know better.

“Damn.” Adam tried to make light of the worry that was
starting to press in on the soft cushion of calm wrapped
around his brain. “Better be careful; someone might accuse
you of being celibate.”

“God forbid.” But Keith’s laughter wasn’t as bright that time;
even through his semifog, Adam could tell that. “There just
hasn’t been anyone tasty in the last few cities.”

“Getting picky, Mr. Wet Panties? I should have known I
would spoil you for all others, but this is a surprise.”

That got a more genuine laugh, although Adam knew he’d
be paying for the Wet Panties reminder later. A women’s
magazine had hung that title on him in an Internet readers’
poll, and Adam liked to pull it out every so often just
because it was one of the only things guaranteed to
embarrass his shameless lover.

“Anyway,” Keith said, sounding shy, “I was hoping… I mean,
I know phone sex isn’t as much fun when it’s just our hands,
no boys doing our bidding, but…”

Adam smiled. Maybe things weren’t all bad just because
Keith was saving it for Adam instead of picking up small-
town groupies who could cause trouble. “Yeah? What, you
want me to talk dirty to you, baby? Get you off? Tell you
stories about all the pretty boys that have sucked my dick?”

A strangled noise was all the answer he needed, and he
got comfortable. He could feel his cock filling slowly, but he
knew he wasn’t going to be nearly as involved in this as
Keith was; he was too relaxed to get off quickly if at all.
He’d give Keith the best orgasm he could over the phone
before they hung up, and then he’d take his own sweet time
with himself.

“There was that guy in WeHo—”

“Which one?”

Adam snorted. Okay, yeah, so West Hollywood was pretty
regular cruising ground for them. “The wannabe leather
daddy who got down on his knees and begged when he
saw my dick.”

“Hmm.” Keith sounded unimpressed, and Adam cocked an
eyebrow, even though Keith couldn’t see him. Adam liked
that memory very much, thank you. Okay, the guy hadn’t
been particularly good-looking, and he hadn’t wanted a
threesome, just wanted to suck Adam off, but Adam had
thought it was pretty hot how this big, swaggering dom had
begged like a hungry puppy for a taste of Adam’s cock.

“What, were you thinking of someone else?”

“No, not…just not him.”

Adam laughed. “All right. What about…” He racked his
brain, trying to remember a scene Keith had been really
into, one of the guys he’d

really

liked. Well, it was a little

awkward, what with the continued correspondence, but…
“What about the glam twink from Charlotte?”

“Baz?” Keith didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah, that
was a good one.”

“We never did get to see if he could take both of us at
once,” Adam pointed out sadly, and he heard Keith’s

breath hitch. Good to know he was on the right track. “I think
he might. He took you three times that night, and he was
still begging for me. He might be able to handle it.”

“Oh God. He was so good. Pushed back on me every time I
fucked into him. Hungry little boy.” Keith groaned, and
Adam realized that he must’ve already been going before
he called Adam. He usually didn’t get that hot that fast.
Either that or he’d

really

liked Sebastian.

“He was, wasn’t he? And so sweet too.”

“Mm, like candy.” Another long-drawn-out moan, and Adam
would have laughed if he hadn’t been aching to touch Keith
for real. “I want him again, babe. Do you think we could?”

Now

that

was a surprise. They’d never had the same third

party for more than one night. In fact, they usually only kept
the third for a few hours before sending him off; the fact that
they’d kept Sebastian all night and most of the next day had
already been breaking all their records.

“You want to go to Charlotte and look him up?” Adam tilted
his head. “We probably could.”

“Or we could ask if he wants to come out to LA.” There was
a steady hitch in Keith’s breathing now. “Do you think he’d
be up for it?”

Adam hesitated. He couldn’t tell if Keith was asking for real

or as part of their mutual fantasy. Did he want Adam to say

Yes, of course he would—he’d be up for it all night long,
and we’d tie him to our bed and take turns fucking him
until he passed out

, or would he rather Adam tell him what

he thought the actual odds were of Sebastian agreeing to
fly out for a weekend booty call?

But then Keith was coming, mumbling garbled half words
that sounded like Adam’s name in places, and Adam
cooed to him over the phone until Keith had started to calm
down.

Adam thought he’d dodged that bullet until Keith panted,
“Call him, babe. Ask him when he can come out. Please.”

Nothing had changed since that time at the industry party in
some Hollywood bigwig’s mansion when Keith had
introduced himself and then thirty minutes later begged
Adam in dirty whispers to bend him over the stupid golden
toilet and fuck his ass. He liked the thought of having
Sebastian again—the sex had been the best they’d ever
had, a spark that had never been there with any other third
—but it was for Keith that Adam just said, “Okay.”

Chapter Eight

Sebastian hated the end of the semester like nothing else.

Winter break hovered so close he could almost taste it—
the whole town was decked out in wreaths and holly and
sparkly lights and questionably shaped tinsel angels—but
he had five final exams to study for and three term papers
due.

Jason, in his typical way, insisted on partying his way
through finals and turning in half-assed papers, but
Sebastian had a grade point average to worry about. If he
didn’t keep his GPA above a 3.5, he could kiss his winter
internship in DC good-bye, and he wanted that internship.
It, along with the GPA itself and his GRE scores, would go
a long way toward getting him into a top grad school.

But all his good behavior meant that he got to hear Jason
coming and going at all hours of the day and night,
sometimes uproariously drunk, sometimes with someone in
tow. And then he would sit at the desk in his room, staring
at his notes in the little puddle of lamplight in front of him,
and listen to Jason’s headboard slamming into the wall at
the other end of the apartment.

It was about two o’clock in the morning under these
circumstances—Jason’s partner that night was apparently
as tireless as Keith Black had been, and

damn

, he did not

need that distraction when he could barely focus as it was
—when his phone rang. The unfamiliar ringtone startled him
at first, but then he remembered that he’d given Adam
Cruce and Keith Black a unique ringtone for the hell of it. It

wasn’t like they were ever going to call him…

He snatched his phone up off the desk, listening to its little
speakers blasting out Keith’s “I’m On Fire” as he stared
openmouthed at the caller ID. It was Adam. Sebastian was
torn between answering and letting it go to voice mail. He
would love to have a message from Adam on his phone—
he might finally get around to bragging about who his Pride
weekend threesome had been with—but if he didn’t
answer, Adam might not leave a message. And he might
not call back. And—

“Hello?” Sebastian winced at the breathlessness of his
voice, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Sebastian?” Adam sounded a little unsure, and
Sebastian’s heart skipped at the sound of his voice.
Somehow he sounded different than he did on television or
even in person.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me. Um. Hi.”

Adam chuckled, and that was

it

. Sebastian was stick-a-

fork-in-me done. There would be no more term paper
outlining for at least six hours. “It’s Adam Cruce,” he said,
and Sebastian kicked himself for not letting voice mail pick
up.

“Yeah, I… You came up on caller ID.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretched out awkwardly, and Sebastian fidgeted.
He didn’t want to ask Adam why he’d called, but he did
wish he knew. Should he say anything at all? Comment on
the weather? Ask how Adam was? How Keith was?

“Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it is there—my
time is all screwed up. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Adam
still sounded stilted and nervous, which wasn’t at all how
Sebastian remembered him. Sebastian had to wonder if
Adam had even meant to call him, or if he was high or
something.

“No, no—I’m up. Studying for finals. Um…how are you?”

“I’m good, I—this is going to sound kind of weird, and if you
already have plans with your family or whatever, don’t worry
about it. But would you want to fly out to LA in two weeks?
Keith’s tour will be over, and he—we—wanted to see you
again.”

Sebastian felt like he was in a movie and the camera had
just done a dramatic shot with him in focus at the center
and the whole rest of the world in a black-and-white blur.
His mind swirled with disbelief and want and
disappointment, because as much as he wanted to say

Oh

my God, yes

! in two weeks he would be in DC, assuming

he got that internship. He and the two other final candidates

wouldn’t know for another couple of days who’d gotten the
position.

“I…I don’t know.” And then because that didn’t tell nearly
enough of the story, he blurted out, “I mean, I’d love to. That
would be so awesome. It would be the best thing ever! But I
might not be able to.” He stopped and took a deep breath.
“I applied for an internship over winter break and spring
semester in Washington, DC. I won’t know until next week if
I got in or not. I’m one of the finalists.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure what he’d expected Adam’s
reaction to be, but the deep, confident chuckle was a
surprise—and a delight. Gone was the odd awkwardness
of the beginning of their conversation. Suddenly Sebastian
didn’t know whether he wanted to get that internship or not.

“I’m glad,” Adam said, still smiling if the sound of his voice
was anything to go by. “Glad I don’t have to worry that we’re
taking advantage and ruining your life. I’m glad you’ve got
your priorities right.” He paused briefly and then added,
“But if for some reason one of the other finalists gets the
internship, call me back, okay? That’s still plenty of time for
us to buy you a ticket. Assuming you want to, of course.”

“I—yes, okay! I will.”

“Good. And Sebastian?”

“Y-yes?”

“If you

do

get the internship, let me know that too. I hear the

White House is beautiful at Christmas. Good luck on your
finals. Remember to sleep sometime.”

And with that, Adam hung up. Sebastian stared down at his
phone for long moments before he got up, stalked across
the apartment, and banged on Jason’s closed bedroom
door. The grunts and moans within quieted, and the bed
stopped squeaking. Quiet reigned for a few moments
before Jason yelled, “Baz? Is that you?”

“Hey, Jason, am I awake?”

He could hear murmurs through the door, like Jason and his
hookup were discussing something. Probably Jason
explaining that his roommate had never shown signs of
psychosis before, but…

“You’d sure as hell better hope you’re not! Because if you
aren’t sleepwalking and you came and knocked on my door
for something that doesn’t include bleeding injuries or the
house on fire, I am going to kick your ass all the way into
next week.”

“That’s what I thought. Good night. Have fun!”

“Jesus,” Sebastian heard Jason say as he retreated to his
own room. “I think studying has fried his brains.”

Sebastian took one look at the notes on his desk, turned off
his lamp, and went to bed. He obviously needed sleep.

* * * *

Sebastian’s mother had often told him that things looked
clearer in the light of day after a good night’s sleep,
especially when he’d just finished having an argument with
his father over any of a million things: how he was spending
his money, who he was dating, where he was going to
college, what he was majoring in. She’d often been right.
But when Sebastian woke up the next day, he’d barely
opened his eyes before he grabbed his phone and
checked the call log. Yep, it showed a received call from
Adam’s number. He hadn’t dreamed it after all.

Adam and Keith wanted him again. They wanted him
enough that they were willing to pay for plane fare in
December to see him. Admittedly that wasn’t as big of a
deal for them as it would have been for Sebastian, but they
could’ve picked up someone in LA for less effort.

And Sebastian had practically turned them down over an
internship. He groaned and pulled his covers up over his
face. Adam had solved that, of course, and at least he
hadn’t been offended—he’d seemed pleased, in fact—but
still…how embarrassing.

He really wanted to talk to someone about it, but Jason’s
sleepover guest was probably still in the house, and after
he’d gone and pounded on their door last night, doing it
again now would probably get him killed and all his
belongings donated to charity.

What he’d apparently earned, however, was payback.

“Baz!” Thunderous pounding on the door made him jump,
and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the door swung
open a moment later. “You crazy bastard! What the hell
were you doing last night?”

Sebastian tried to peer around Jason into the rest of the
apartment. “Is he still here?”

Jason snorted. “Why, you want a look at him?”

“No.” Sebastian glared. “I want to talk to you, but I don’t
want to talk to anyone

but

you.”

That got his roommate’s attention, and Jason went from
annoyed to mothering in zero point two seconds. “Are you
okay? Was everything—did something happen last night?”
Jason came into the room and sat down on the edge of
Sebastian’s bed without so much as asking, laying his
hand against Sebastian’s forehead like he was feeling for a
fever. “Are you sick?”

“No. Stop that.” Sebastian shoved Jason, pushing him off

the bed. Then, to put himself on level footing and so he
wouldn’t seem so rude, he threw back the covers and sat
on the edge of the mattress. Jason took the chair at his
desk. “Remember back in October, Pride weekend?”

“Yeah, why? What about it?”

“Remember how I told you I’d gotten picked up by a couple
of guys?”

Jason leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms.
“Yeah. They did a number on you.”

Sebastian allowed himself to remember for a moment—the
sharp little bruises, the throbbing, persistent ache in his
well-used body, how swollen and hot his skin had felt
everywhere—before continuing. “Right. Well, one of them
called me last night. They want me to join them again.”

Jason sat up straight with alarm. “Are they harassing you?
Do you not want to—is that why you were so upset last
night? We can go get you a new phone if you want, change
your number. They don’t know where you live, do they?”

Sebastian held up his hand. “Settle down. It’s nothing like
that. It’s…” He picked up his phone, pulled up the call log,
and handed it to Jason. “The top number. That’s who called
me.”

“Adam Cru—” Jason’s mouth snapped shut. “You’re shitting

me, right? Or this guy just has the same name as…”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, the threesome was with
him and Keith Black.”

If Jason’s eyes had gotten any bigger, they might have
fallen out of his head. “Dude. Lying to me is

not cool

.”

Before Sebastian could protest that he wasn’t lying, Jason
had a revelation. “Holy shit! That’s why you suddenly turned
into the biggest Keith Black fan on the planet. You hated his
music before!”

Sebastian squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, after that, it…
And I didn’t hate it! I was tired of that one song.”

The one

that gets me hot now. The one that Adam got me off to.
The one that Keith dedicated to me masturbating for him.

“So they called you last night, and they want you to, what, fly
out to LA for Christmas break?”

“Well, he didn’t say for how long. But I have that internship in
DC, and—”

“

Fuck

the internship! Holy shit!”

Sebastian scowled. “Dude. The sex thing is just sex. My
whole future depends on that internship. If I get it, I can get
into a good grad school with a good journalism program. I
can get a better job. I’m not blowing all that for sex.”

Jason stared at him like he’d lost his mind, but enunciating
all that helped Sebastian see what Adam had been getting
at on the phone. It made him feel better about the choice
he’d made at the time to put the internship first.

“And anyway,” Sebastian drawled, “he said if I got the
internship, they’d fly out to DC and see me.” That might be
nicer anyway, he thought. Not so many star-hungry
paparazzi in DC; out there, the journalists were mostly after
the dirt on the politicians. They could even go look at some
of the monuments. Maybe there would be snow.

Jason shook his head. “Okay, so…you told me this much.
You can’t hold out on me now. What were they like? I mean,
I saw you afterward, but…”

Sebastian felt the grin take over his whole face. He flopped
back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling before he
gave in to Jason’s pleading. “Well, it all started when I ran
into Keith, and he spilled his beer on me…”

* * * *

Despite the distraction of Adam’s call and invitation,
Sebastian buckled down and worked his ass off. In fact, the
call might’ve helped. He would still be disappointed if he
didn’t get the internship, but he would go out to LA and
spend some time being fucked into oblivion until he forgot

about it. Then he would come back to school for the spring
semester and apply for a summer internship instead.

And if he got the internship…well, then he could have his
cake and eat it too.

Freed from most of his anxiety, his exams and term papers
went by a lot more easily than he had expected. And at nine
thirty on a Wednesday morning, he walked out of his last
final exam and headed home. Gray clouds hung low in the
sky, and Sebastian wished for snow, even though he knew
it was early. Charlotte only got one or two days of snow per
year, and that usually didn’t happen until January or
February.

His phone rang in his coat pocket, and he checked the
caller ID before he answered it. He didn’t recognize the
number, and his heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat
and stopped walking before he hit the green button that
would connect the call.

“Hello, this is Sebastian Keane.” He tried to make his voice
sound professional and hoped he’d succeeded.

“Hello, Mr. Keane. This is Jaclyn David from Human Voices
Washington. I’m calling in regard to your journalism
internship application.”

Sebastian stopped walking and held his breath. Surely if he
hadn’t gotten the position, they would have just sent him a

letter, right?

“Um, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you for asking. Mr. Keane, we have a unique
situation. The position you applied for has been awarded to
another candidate, but we were very impressed by your
application. We have another internship that is available
that we would like to offer you, but it is not a position that
students are usually interested in. It runs from March to
October, which means that you would have to leave before
the end of the spring semester and would be returning after
the start of the fall semester. It’s been known to cause
issues with student loans and scholarships, which is why
we usually don’t advertise it for students. However, as I
said, we were very impressed with your application and
would love to have you working with us at HVW.”

That was a lot of information to take in, and Sebastian was
silent for a moment as he tried to process it. “Well, thank
you for offering it to me,” he said slowly, still figuring out the
rest of his answer. “When do you need a decision from me,
and would it be possible to have the information about this
position in writing?”

“Absolutely. We’ll mail the information package today. If you
think it sounds like something you might be interested in,
we’ll list you as the preferred candidate until you have time
to give it more consideration.”

“That—that would be awesome, thank you.”

“All right. The information package will go out in today’s
mail, and you’ve been entered in the system as the
preferred candidate. Please let me know your final decision
by Monday, February fourteenth. Do you have any more
questions for me right now?”

“No, that’s—thank you. That’s fine. Thank you again.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Keane. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” He pressed the Off button on the phone and sat
down hard on the cold metal bench outside the student
center. He didn’t have a clue if he wanted to take their other
internship and risk fucking up his financial aid, or if he
wanted to play it safe and stay home. He had already
registered for classes for the spring as a precautionary
measure, so there wasn’t anything he needed to act on until
the deadline for dropping classes in mid-January. But
before that, there was another offer he needed to respond
to.

Fingers turning red and numb from the cold, he flipped
open his phone again and brought up a text message. He
put both Adam’s and Keith’s names in the Send To field,
and then he typed,

I guess there are worse places to spend

Christmas break than on the beach. Is the ticket to LA still
open?

Chapter Nine

Keith stood naked in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of
his room at the Mandalay Bay hotel in Las Vegas, staring
out over the neon lights of the strip, listening to water
running in the huge tub in the bathroom. The quietly
humming heater kept the December cold to manageable
levels, and anyway, if Vegas ever froze over, Keith would
be checking the weather reports in hell. The water in the
bathroom shut off, and Keith tracked the quiet sound of
footsteps across the thick carpet until Adam’s arms slid
around him.

Adam’s big hands, a little wet from running the bath,
skimmed over Keith’s chest and stomach, long fingers
creeping down between Keith’s legs to cup and massage
his testicles and soft dick. Keith hummed in contentment
and leaned back against Adam’s chest, loving the feel of
Adam’s shirt and the rough denim of his jeans against
Keith’s bare skin.

“We should’ve gotten a room on one of the lower floors,”
Adam purred in his ear. “So people could look up and see
you when I fuck you against the window.”

Keith smiled, nuzzling into the side of Adam’s neck. “We
could always sell tickets.”

“No, it’s no fun unless they’re shocked.”

“We could tell them it’s tickets to the circus, surprise them. It
wouldn’t really be a lie.”

Adam snorted, his breath tickling across Keith’s skin.
“Come on, Mr. Big-Shot Rock Star. Your bath awaits.”

Keith turned in Adam’s arms, pressing their bodies
together, rubbing just to feel the friction of cloth against his
skin. “I thought you were going to fuck me in front of the
window first.”

Adam slid his hand down Keith’s back, stroking his ass
cheeks before cupping them and squeezing. Keith
wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck and leaned in,
brushing soft kisses over Adam’s jaw until he got to the
sweetly curved mouth. He licked Adam’s lower lip before
pushing his ass into Adam’s hand at the same time he
pressed his chest against Adam’s shirt. The fabric scraped
across Keith’s nipples, and the position emphasized the
negligible height difference between them. Adam was
about half an inch taller than Keith; like this, though, Keith
had to crane his neck to look up at the man holding him.

“Playing submissive tonight?” Adam skimmed the hand that
wasn’t holding Keith’s ass up his spine, tickling between
his shoulder blades. “Pretending to be sweet?”

“I am sweet.” The words sounded breathless, like a nervous
lie. Adam pinched his bottom. Keith waited for the sexy
insult, the dirty talk, the erotic shaming. It didn’t happen.

“Yes, you’re a sweet boy. But you’re a dirty boy too, and you
need your bath.”

Keith pouted and mouthed Adam’s chin, licking tentatively
down his throat. He stared at the hollow of Adam’s throat,
avoiding Adam’s eyes as he said, “I don’t want to be
alone.”

Adam’s arms tightened around him, and Keith could tell
Adam was frowning without even looking at him. “I’m here,
baby. You’re not alone.”

Keith already knew that, but hearing the words leeched the
ugly shades of tension from him, and he melted farther into
Adam’s embrace, soaking up his lover’s presence.

Adam hadn’t made it to the Denver concert, but he’d flown
out to Phoenix in time to catch Keith after that show. They’d
picked up a third, a college kid from Arizona State, but he’d
been cocky and arrogant in all the wrong ways, and Keith
hadn’t liked him much. Adam must have felt the same way,
because they cut him loose after only half an hour. Adam
had fed him that monster cock while Keith had pounded his
ass; then they’d sent him off to shower and go home while
they continued the party, just the two of them. Tonight they

hadn’t even bothered with the third.

Keith only had one more stop on the tour after the Vegas
show, a club in West Hollywood. It was a smaller venue than
he normally played, and he liked to think of it as a show for
the home crowd. The band had a few weeks of vacation
before they were due back in the studio, and Keith was
planning to sleep through half of it. He loved performing; it
would always be his favorite part of being a musician. But
three months of four shows a week, crisscrossing the
country from New York to LA, had finally worn him out.

“You’re thinking,” Adam whispered at his ear, and Keith
cuddled into Adam’s arms. “I must be doing something
wrong.”

“No.” Keith nuzzled Adam’s throat. “You make it quiet
enough inside my head that I

can

think.”

He clung a little more tightly to Adam, hungry and desperate
for touch. Keith’s insecurities got the best of him from time
to time, knowing how high-maintenance he was, how much
of a pain in the ass. He’d never forgotten the feeling of
hearing Adam say “It’s over” and then watching him walk
out the door. He’d never really gotten over the panic of
waiting for thirty minutes, then an hour, then two for Adam to
cool off and change his mind, come back, and make things
better.

Adam hadn’t come back, and Keith’s whole world had
gone pitch-black. He remembered starting to drink, but he
didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember Adam
coming back. He remembered waking up in the hospital
and thinking Adam had been right to leave him. Then Adam
had been there, and Keith had promised himself that he’d
never do that again—he’d never be so horrible that he
drove away the most patient person he knew. He would
never let himself turn into his father.

He knew he walked a fine line some days, knew that his
dark moods were hard to handle, and he worried. He
shivered, pressing harder into Adam’s body, and Adam
kissed his temple.

“C’mon, baby,” Adam crooned. “Let’s get you into the bath
before the water gets cold.” When Keith didn’t let go, Adam
jostled him a little and coaxed, “I’ll get in with you.”

“Okay.” Keith finally relaxed his grip, leaning back and
looking up at Adam through his eyelashes, trying for coy
and innocent and, yes, submissive and sweet. “Can I sit on
your lap?”

Adam chuckled and brushed Keith’s face with his knuckles.
“Maybe we should save that for when we go to bed. I don’t
want to hurt you.”

“I can handle it.” Keith turned his head to kiss Adam’s

fingers. “I want you in me.”

“In bed.” Adam wouldn’t budge. “Hot water’s not good for
the condom.”

Keith didn’t know why that made him feel guilty, like it was
his fault they had to wear condoms, his fault they couldn’t
take chances. He knew better—Adam was the one who
picked out their third party most of the time, and the open
arrangement they shared had been Adam’s idea as much
as it had been Keith’s. Even so, Keith was under no illusion
about which of them was the bigger slut. He knew he had
four partners for every one Adam picked up without him
and that Adam picked out guys he knew Keith would like for
their threesomes. Keith couldn’t help worrying that one day
Adam was going to get tired of indulging him.

But for now, Adam undressed methodically, folding each
piece of clothing before he took off the next. Keith had
never seen a strip show so ridiculously OCD—or so
enticing. He’d thought Adam was fucking gorgeous the first
time he’d laid eyes on the man, and that hadn’t changed in
three and a half years.

When Adam was down to just his briefs, the dark blue
fabric cupping his cock and balls as lovingly as Keith
wanted to, he raised his eyebrows. “What are you waiting
for? Get in.”

Keith shook his head. “You first. I do want to sit in your lap.
Maybe not with your cock up my ass for now, but there are
other ways.” He leered. “I know you like it between my
thighs. Or against my back.” He leaned forward, hoping he
looked sexy and not just silly. “I want you between my legs,
Daddy.”

Adam hesitated with his briefs halfway down his legs, and
Keith felt something in the pit of his stomach go white and
ice-cold, like tiny snowflakes of anxiety. He knew
sometimes Adam didn’t like the daddy game, but
sometimes he did. Or maybe that was just another way he
indulged Keith’s fucked-up psyche.

Shit, I probably

shouldn’t have sprung it on him like that.

Adam finished undressing and sat down in the massive tub,
keeping his legs together. His cock lay thick and heavy
against his thigh, slowly hardening, and Keith felt his own
cock stir in anticipation.

“C’mon, boy,” Adam said, deepening his voice, and Keith
closed his eyes briefly in relief. Adam didn’t look angry or
impatient; he was playing the game. “Come sit on Daddy’s
lap.”

Jesus fuck, but nothing got Keith hot like hearing Adam talk
like that. Adam was only seven years his senior, and Keith
would have swallowed an entire drawerful of kitchen knives
before he would have had sex with his bastard of a father,

but he loved this game. He didn’t want a daddy all the time,
but when he did, Adam was

it

.

Keith climbed into the tub and straddled Adam’s legs,
sitting with his back against Adam’s chest. The water
splashed around them, still plenty hot, and Keith wondered
how hot Adam had run it. He’d probably anticipated the
delay, knowing Keith as he did.

Keith wriggled until Adam’s body cradled his just so and
reached down to stroke Adam’s dick where it curved up
between Keith’s legs, pressing against Keith’s balls and
rubbing against Keith’s shaft. This position worked
particularly well with Adam’s big cock, and Keith relaxed
into Adam’s arms, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded,
being held.

Adam reached down and grasped his dick, ignoring
Keith’s erection. His wrist bumped against Keith’s dick, but
he didn’t grab it, didn’t stroke it. He thrust between Keith’s
legs and into his own hand, using Keith as a human-sized
masturbator. Keith loved it. He shifted, trying to get Adam’s
hand to accidentally bump him more, and Adam stopped
moving.

“If you want to sit on Daddy’s lap, you’re going to have to be
a good boy.” Adam’s hand on Keith’s hip held him still,
reinforcing his words, and Keith bit back a whine. “That’s
right. Just be still and let Daddy hold you.”

Adam moved again, rubbing his cock against Keith’s
perineum and balls, brushing Keith’s cock with his wrist as
he rubbed the head of his own dick. Adam’s movements
made the water swirl around Keith’s dick, sliding across his
skin. Keith’s ass skidded across Adam’s belly. The water
sloshed up to their necks, and Keith closed his eyes,
basking.

“You’re being awfully quiet, little boy. What’s on your mind?”

Keith shook his head, unwilling to speak and break the
spell. His voice didn’t sound anything like a little boy’s, and
even though that wasn’t the point of this game, it helped him
maintain the illusion.

“If you’re not going to talk, I guess we’re going to have to
put your mouth to other uses.”

Adam grabbed Keith’s chin with his free hand, tilting
Keith’s head back, pressing the heel of his hand against
Keith’s throat. He rubbed Keith’s jaw with his thumb before
he pried open Keith’s mouth and stuck two of his fingers in.
Keith suckled eagerly, licking Adam’s fingers, soft
whimpers escaping through his nose as Adam rubbed
Keith’s tongue with his fingertips.

“That feels so nice, baby,” Adam whispered. He licked
Keith’s ear, and Keith jerked at the sensation. “I love your
mouth. It’s so dirty, just like you.” Oh yeah, there was the

rough talk. Keith squirmed a little to make Adam squeeze
his jaw tighter as a reminder to be still.

“You’re gonna make Daddy feel so good with your mouth,
aren’t you?”

Keith nodded, still sucking on Adam’s fingers. He really
wanted to reach down and rub his own dick, but he
restrained himself. Between the water tickling him and the
random, accidental brushes of Adam’s hand and cock,
Keith thought this should qualify as some kind of torture.
Delicious, amazing torture.

“I’d love to take your pretty little bottom.” Adam took the
edge of Keith’s ear between his teeth and nipped carefully,
just enough to sting. “But I don’t wanna hurt you, and
Daddy’s dick is kind of big.”

“Want you inside.” Keith kept his voice quiet, trying to avoid
breaking the spell of the game. “Want you to come inside
me, Daddy.”

Adam groaned against Keith’s neck, and orange-gold
warmth cascaded through Keith’s stomach, satisfaction at
turning Adam on. He rocked his hips down and squeezed
his legs together, catching Adam’s cock between his thighs
and rubbing himself against the length.

“Put it in me, Daddy, please.”

“We have to go to the bed for that, baby. Let’s get you
cleaned up before we get out of the bath, little boy.”

Keith obeyed the nudges at his hips, leaning forward until
he was kneeling, bracing himself over Adam’s legs, his ass
up in the air. Adam palmed Keith’s ass cheeks, pulling
them apart and squeezing them, scratching his nails over
the skin. When Keith’s ass was tingling from Adam’s rough
handling, he rubbed his fingertips over Keith’s hole, and
Keith sighed. He relaxed as Adam cleaned him gently with
warm water and fingers. He was so calm by the time Adam
finished that he didn’t even jump at the rough swipe of wet
tongue on his freshly cleaned hole.

“Ready for bed, little boy?” Adam pressed a kiss to one
cheek, then the other, and Keith stood up and stepped out
of the tub. He stood waiting while Adam opened the drain
and then grabbed two fluffy towels. One he put on the tile
floor; the other he wrapped around Keith. Keith closed his
eyes and swayed on his feet as Adam dried him
thoroughly. The soft towel even found its way into the shells
of Keith’s ears to soak up the water there, and into his belly
button. Adam cupped the towel around Keith’s genitals,
patting them carefully dry but not wasting any time with
stimulating him.

When he finished with Keith, Adam dried himself brusquely.
Keith could still see damp patches on Adam’s skin, and he
wanted to taste them. Adam led him to the bed and guided

him onto it.

“Hands and knees, boy.” Adam patted his thigh. “Want you
to take this big cock all the way in.” Keith obeyed, and
Adam grabbed one of the thick pillows and slid it under his
stomach. Little silver-blue threads of excitement shivered
through him; he knew what came next. “Lie down on the
pillow.”

Keith loved this position, and they only used it in this game.
He lowered himself to his stomach, letting the pillow tilt his
ass up. His cock rubbed smoothly against the pillowcase,
giving him the stimulation he’d craved in the bathtub.

A cool stream of air blew across his asshole, and Keith
jerked, pushing his hips into the pillow. Adam grabbed his
thighs and opened them, pinning him to the bed as he blew
again, making Keith’s asshole twitch at the sensation. Keith
felt Adam’s tongue sweep over his hole, leaving behind a
cooling wetness, and when Adam blew again, it turned cold
on Keith’s skin.

Keith whimpered and twitched in Adam’s hands, trying to
get away from the torture, trying to get more stimulation on
his cock. Adam kept alternating licking and blowing until
Keith nearly cried with frustration, and then finally,

finally

, he

speared his tongue into Keith’s hole.

Keith bit off an exclamation as Adam worked his tongue

inside, pushing against the tight muscle, forcing Keith to
accept the intrusion. By the time he finished, Keith’s hands
were fisted in the sheets, his body shaking from the effort of
not just humping the pillow until he shot.

“Are you ready for Daddy’s cock?” The words gusted over
Keith’s damp, tortured skin, and Keith groaned. “Ready for
Daddy to fuck you, baby?”

“God, yes. Fuck me, Daddy, please. Please, Daddy, I want
your—

oh

!”

Two of Adam’s fingers, thick and rough and slick with lube,
were shoved into Keith’s hole and twisted, opening him up.
Adam finger-fucked him, pressing hard against his
prostate. Adam spread his fingers wide and continued to
move in and out, stretching him until Keith felt like he could
take Adam’s whole hand.

But when Adam started pushing his cock inside, it fucking

burned

. Keith gasped, bucking away from the invasion. The

motion rubbed Keith’s dick against the pillow, and his hips
moved instinctively, seeking more stimulation. It pushed
him back farther on Adam’s dick, and he took another inch.

“That’s it.” Adam sounded breathless and strained, like he
was pushing the words through his teeth, and Keith forgot
about his own discomfort in a rush of emerald green
ecstasy. Adam’s arousal was the best aphrodisiac in the

world, and Keith felt his body opening up to take in his
lover. “That’s right, baby. Let Daddy in. Let Daddy fuck
you.”

And then Adam was in as far as he could go, and Keith
closed his eyes and imagined they were bare, imagined he
could feel Adam all the way up in his diaphragm. Adam
shifted, bracing his weight over Keith’s back, pushing him
down into the pillow. Keith arched his back, shoving his ass
up into the curve of Adam’s hips, asking wordlessly for

More, deeper, harder.

Adam lowered his body until they were skin to skin from
shoulders to thighs, and then he began to rock his hips.
Slowly at first, then picking up speed and force, he fucked
straight down into Keith’s ass, his hot breath puffing against
Keith’s ear, his chest sliding slickly against Keith’s back as
sweat gathered between them. Every thrust pressed Keith
down into the pillow, and Keith could feel his dick leaking,
could feel the pillow getting wet as Adam hammered his
prostate.

“You feel so good,” Adam groaned beside his ear. “So
good on my dick, baby. Love fucking your ass. Love
coming inside you.”

The words spiked through him, and Keith’s orgasm took
him by surprise, drowning him in a wave of raw, bright light.
Adam clutched him harder, fucking him even deeper as his

muscles tensed and rippled in pleasure.

“Jesus, baby.” Adam was fucking him so fast now Keith felt
battered by the huge dick inside him. “God—fucking love
you

so much

.” Adam thrust hard and deep and held himself

there, his teeth pressing into the back of Keith’s neck as he
groaned out his orgasm. Keith squeezed his inner muscles,
dragging out Adam’s pleasure as much as he could, and
imagined he could feel Adam spilling inside him.

It took a long time for them to pull apart from each other, but
Adam finally left to get rid of the condom while Keith threw
the pillow to the floor. At least that took care of the wet spot
easily. Keith’s body was still humming, bright sparks
flickering through him in aftershocks, when Adam curled up
behind him, spooning him comfortably.

Keith laid his arm over Adam’s, linking their fingers
together, and sighed in contentment. “Love you, Daddy.”

Chapter Ten

When he felt sure Keith was asleep, Adam gently extracted
himself from his lover’s embrace and sat on the edge of the
bed. Shivers worked through his body, and he braced his
elbows on his knees, propping his head in his hands. End
of a tour was always rough; Adam could see Keith’s mood
steadily dropping during the last few shows. The month

between the tour’s end and the start of the new album in the
studio would be fraught with angst and bouts of depression,
temper tantrums, and dark moods. It wasn’t exactly a walk
in the park for Adam, but he dreaded it more for Keith’s
sake than his own. Every time it happened, Adam feared
that Keith might not fight his way back up.

The whisper of the room’s heater told him the way he shook
had nothing to do with temperature, and he stood, glancing
over his shoulder to be sure he hadn’t woken Keith. His
lover slept on, exhausted not by their lovemaking—as
intense as that had been—but by the shadows preying on
his mind. Closer to the beginning of the tour, Keith wouldn’t
have rolled over and gone to sleep; he would have worn
Adam out. Now, though, Adam was the one with jangly
nerves that kept him awake.

Adam paced to the window and braced himself against the
pane. The strip shone below him, neon and pulsing in the
night. It looked like an entire city of falling stars, streaks of
light and blazing color fumbling their way through darkness.
An apt metaphor, perhaps, or maybe he was
overdramatizing things. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It isn’t love if it doesn’t make you want to throw yourself
from a seventh-story window, after all.

“Adam?”

Keith’s sleepy murmur pulled Adam’s attention away from
his contemplation of the neon streets, and he abandoned
the window to crawl back into the bed.

“Hey, babe.” He kissed the soft spot on Keith’s neck, right
under his ear. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay. Rather be awake with you anyway.” Keith shifted,
snuggling deeper into Adam’s arms. “Did I freak you out?”

Adam hesitated, but he knew better than to try to hedge his
answer. “Yes, but not because of the scene.” He stroked
Keith’s hair. “Mostly because I can tell you’re crashing. End-
of-tour routine.”

Keith wriggled until he was underneath Adam on his back,
looking up with the same vulnerable eyes Adam had fallen
for to begin with. They’d started out as a wild fuck when
Keith was in one of his moods that Adam now thought of as
a flux, somewhere between bright and dark, flickering like a
lightbulb. Bright enough to corner Adam in the bathroom
and goad him into sex; dark enough to give him the same
broken look afterward that was staring up at him now.
Adam couldn’t have invented a more lethal combination if
he’d tried.

And even though he knew his timing sucked, he heard the
words bursting out of him before he had fully decided to say
them.

“You know, maybe we should make an appointment with
that therapist they recommended at the rehab center.” Keith
frowned sharply, but Adam took a deep breath and forged
on, skimming his hands over Keith’s arms soothingly. “It’s
worth a try, anyway. Can’t hurt, right?”

Keith tensed, but even though he was clearly upset, he did
an admirable job of keeping a reasonable tone with only a
hint of the frustration he was obviously feeling.

“Adam, you know I can’t. My record label—”

“—would support you. Or they might dump you. But you
could find another one. You’re a star, baby. You sell
records, you make money, and they know where their
bread’s buttered.”

“It’s not that easy. Nobody wants to work with someone
who’s fucked in the head. Don’t give me all that crap about
celebrities coming out about their mental illnesses. They
still get ripped apart. People start talking about ‘What a
shame, they had such talent, but nobody can be expected
to work with someone with problems like that.’ I’m already
gay. I’m already lewd and offensive and

promiscuous

. A

diagnosis could be the last straw, you know?”

“But maybe it might help. Maybe it might make things
better. Please, babe—”

Keith shoved him hard, and Adam sat back as his lover

Keith shoved him hard, and Adam sat back as his lover
struggled out from under him. It was clear from his face that
Adam had pushed too far, and guilt squirmed in his belly as
he waited for the

fuck you

he was sure was coming.

But Keith didn’t say anything, just got out of the bed and
went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
It wasn’t quite a slam, but it got his point across. This time
when water started running in the tub, Adam knew he
wasn’t invited.

For half a moment, he toyed with the idea of getting
dressed and going home, back to LA. But Keith trusted him
to be there when he was ready to open the door again, and
Adam had made the decision to come here, had told Keith
to lean on him. This was part of the deal—this lying here on
the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and pretending his skin
didn’t itch with the need to be in there, watching Keith. He
didn’t expect Keith to do anything stupid like try to drown in
the tub, although it was deep enough that it wouldn’t have
been much trouble, but the what-ifs always nagged at the
back of his mind.

What if he underestimated Keith’s mood? What if he
trusted Keith at the wrong time? What if one day, the closed
door wasn’t a boundary but a cry for help?

Adam grabbed his phone and idly checked his messages
to take his mind off it. A few e-mails, a note that it was his
turn in a word game, and another obscene text message

from an unknown number.

I love watching u. Sometimes I

get so hard looking at u I have to go to the bathroom at
work and jerk off.

He shuddered. Sex scenes in his role on the TV show
didn’t bother him, but he wished people wouldn’t overshare
how they felt about it. Especially whoever this blocked caller
was; he’d pretty much decided it had to be a one-night-
stand fan who had gotten his number. He deleted the
message quickly.

The e-mails weren’t interesting, and he couldn’t concentrate
on the game, so he dropped the phone back on the
bedside table and stared at the closed bathroom door as if
he could see through it by will alone.

Just like Keith trusted Adam to be there when the door
opened, Adam had to trust Keith to open it again. This was
part of their dance, part of them. This was what he’d signed
on for.

It didn’t stop him from being grateful for every small splash
and hint of movement he could hear in the silence after the
water shut off.

* * * *

By the time Keith finished soaking—almost an hour later—

some of Adam’s tension had given way to common sense.
Apparently so had Keith’s, as he took Adam’s invitation of
open arms without hesitation. Keith’s still-damp skin
smelled warm and sweet when Adam wrapped them both
in the soft sheets, and Adam couldn’t resist a small taste,
lapping at the base of Keith’s neck. Keith hummed in
contentment, and Adam whispered, “Sorry,” into his hair.

Keith turned enough to catch Adam’s mouth in a brief kiss.
“Me too.”

The next time Adam opened his eyes, Keith was
scrambling over him, reaching for the bedside table. He
was fairly sure the knee in his stomach was what had
woken him.

“Babe—wha…?” Adam blinked, trying to get the world to
come into focus. The barest hint of morning light shone
through the curtains he’d forgotten to close the night before,
and he squinted in the gray dimness.

“Text message.” Keith sounded as sleepy as Adam, and
Adam couldn’t figure out why a text message warranted so
much fuss before sunrise. “Forgot to call Manny last night
and tell him you picked me up. Figure he’s probably
worried.”

“Oh.” Adam rubbed his eyes. “Oops.”

Keith gave him a sleep-creased smile over his shoulder. “I

heard your phone’s text sound too. I’ll let you explain to him
why you didn’t remember.”

Adam snorted. “I will too. In full detail. ‘Sorry, Manny, but you
know how I get when Keith and I are fucking. Can’t think of
a damn thing except the gorgeous man on my dick.’ Think
he’ll go for it?”

That didn’t garner the laugh he had expected, and he
opened his eyes again to check Keith’s expression. He
was frowning at his phone, and Adam was about to ask
what was wrong when Keith turned the screen toward him.

“You know anything about this?”

Adam had to blink a few more times before the tiny letters
came into focus, and again before it made sense, but when
it finally did, he groaned.

I guess there are worse places to spend Christmas break
than on the beach. Is the ticket to LA still open?

“You want to tell me why Baz is asking me about a ticket to
LA?” Keith wiggled the phone, and Adam took it from him.

“You have him in your phone book as ‘Kitten’?” Adam
laughed. “Does he know this?”

Keith scowled and snatched the phone back. “Don’t
change the subject.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise. I forgot to tell him that
part, though, so I guess it’s my fault it got ruined.” He
peered at Keith. “You do still want him to come out, right?”

“Oh my God, really?” Keith beamed, and Adam felt his
heart skip at the brightness of Keith’s smile. “You got me

Baz

for Christmas?”

Adam laughed. “Babe, you don’t celebrate Christmas. You
don’t celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Yule either, so
don’t start.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I celebrate

presents

. And you got me

one! A good one.” He leaned down and kissed Adam,
lingering for a moment. “Hang on, let me text him back, and
then I’ll thank you properly.”

“Okay, but if I remember what he told me, he’s coming out
here because he didn’t get an internship he wanted, so be
nice.”

Keith pouted. “We’re his consolation prize?”

“A hell of a consolation, babe.” Adam tugged at Keith’s
hair. “But if he got the internship, I was going to surprise you
with a trip to DC to see him, so he was going to be your
present anyway.”

That got him another kiss, this one a little longer and more

involved, Keith’s tongue dipping into his mouth.

“Mm, okay, hang on. Wanna text him first.” Keith typed
furiously on his phone and then tossed it onto the table
before pouncing on Adam. “You,” he purred, licking the tip
of Adam’s nose, “are the best boyfriend in the world.”

“Because I give you pretty boys to have sex with?” Adam
grinned when Keith pinched the flesh over his ribs. “Or
because I have sex with those pretty boys with you?”

“Both.” Keith grinned. “And because you make me happy.
But I might be biased.” A sweet kiss, far too fleeting, and
Keith winked as he slithered down Adam’s body. “Are you
ready for your thank-you, or do you need the bathroom
first?” He licked the hollow of Adam’s hip, and Adam’s
cock twitched sympathetically.

“You picked a fine time to ask me,” Adam grumbled. “It
would take me ten minutes just to get my erection to go
down, what with the way you’re looking at me.”

Keith’s expression went from playful to wicked in an instant,
and Adam reached down to grab his dick. He rubbed the
head over Keith’s lips and then smacked it lightly against
Keith’s face.

Keith turned to lick over the circumcision scar, nibbling
lightly at the edge of the flared head. He didn’t bite enough
to sting, just enough to let Adam feel the cool slickness of

enamel against the heated skin, and Adam groaned.

“Game on,” Keith whispered, his warm breath chilling
quickly on Adam’s wet flesh, and Adam fought to keep from
bucking up.

“Dammit.” Adam gripped the back of Keith’s head, pulling
him back to his dick. “Stop playing and get to it.”

“So impatient.” Keith didn’t seem concerned with Adam’s
not so subtle directions, licking a teasing stripe up the long
shaft. “Don’t rush me, baby. I’m gonna try to get you all the
way down my throat.”

Adam grinned. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Keith laughed, and the happy sound was worth whatever
delay Adam had to endure getting to his orgasm. After the
darkness of the night before, Keith’s smile was brighter and
more welcome than the morning sun.

“Keep 911 on speed dial, just in case.” Before Adam could
respond, Keith swiped the flat of his tongue over the head
of Adam’s cock. Another lick, and then he wiggled the tip of
his tongue down into the slit, being careful not to push too
hard. Adam concentrated on keeping his hips still, and
Keith rewarded him by wrapping his lips over the whole
head. Keith kept up the tongue massage as he screwed his
mouth down the length of Adam’s shaft, one hand circling
the base.

Keith’s other hand rubbed over Adam’s thigh, a strangely
soothing, grounding touch in contrast to his mouth on
Adam’s dick. The hand stilled when Adam felt his cock hit
the back of Keith’s throat. Keith paused, taking a deep
breath through his nose, and Adam was about to tell him
not to worry about it when Keith swallowed, pushed down
harder, and—

“Oh

God

!” Adam felt his cock pop through the ring of

muscle in Keith’s throat, and he trembled with the force of
not shoving deeper. “Fuck, baby, yes—God, that’s good.”

Adam’s fingers flexed in Keith’s hair, careful not to hold his
head down, and Keith tried to take him deeper. That was
too much, and Keith backed off, coughing and gagging.
When he tried to go back for more, Adam caught his face
and shook his head.

“Don’t.” The word was barely a hoarse whisper, but Keith
looked mutinous. “Please, baby. It felt good, but I want you
to be comfortable too.”

“You liked it.” Keith frowned. “I want to.”

Adam hesitated. It had felt fucking amazing, but…

“All right. You’re an adult; this is your choice.” He rubbed his
thumb over Keith’s cheek. “But for fuck’s sake, don’t gag
yourself.” Adam grinned. “I’m into a lot of kinky shit with you,

but being thrown up on isn’t one of them.”

Keith laughed. “Point taken.”

Adam kept his hand on Keith’s head, more because he
liked the extra contact than anything else, and tried to relax
and enjoy the heat of Keith’s mouth. Keith got his throat
around Adam’s cock one more time, but he backed off
before he went too far.

“Babe,” Adam gasped when Keith pulled off. “Come up
here. Please. I want to suck you too.”

Keith’s eyes lit up, and he shifted until his dick was at
Adam’s mouth. Adam opened up and took it in, savoring
the tang of precum that had already gathered at the tip.
Keith let Adam suck him for a minute, his hand gently
skimming up and down Adam’s cock to keep it stimulated.
When Adam reached up to fondle Keith’s balls, Keith took
Adam’s cock back in his mouth.

They worked each other long enough that Adam’s jaw
began to feel sore, and he sucked harder, putting real intent
behind it. Keith took the hint and doubled his efforts—he

had

to be hurting; he’d been going even longer than Adam.

Keith wet one finger in his mouth—Adam felt it press up
against his dick—and Adam realized what he was doing
about half a second before that fingertip pushed inside his
ass and rubbed firmly, sending sparks up Adam’s spine

and shooting him straight to the edge.

Adam kept enough presence of mind to tap Keith’s hip in
warning. He didn’t really expect Keith to pull off, but it was
still polite. Keith sucked harder, and Adam groaned around
Keith’s cock. The vibration was apparently enough to
trigger Keith, and while Adam was still coming, he tasted
the salty tang of Keith’s semen pulsing across his tongue.

They sucked each other through the aftershocks, tongues
gentle in deference to postorgasm sensitivity, and then
Keith rolled to the side. He lay still for a moment before he
crawled back up so that he could kiss Adam, sharing their
tastes between them.

Keith’s cell phone chimed, and Adam laughed into his
mouth. He broke the kiss long enough to say, “Either that’s
Sebastian answering you, or Manny is about to break down
the door to check on us.”

Keith laughed. “They’ll both have to wait for a minute. I can’t
move.”

Adam reached over and picked up Keith’s phone, flipping it
open. He turned it so they could both read the text.

From: Kitten

I can see the cavity search now. :p You’ll just have to
make do.

make do.

Adam frowned. “What the hell did you say to him?”

Keith snickered, hiding his face in Adam’s shoulder. “I told
him to bring me a present that would shock the X-ray
security person. He’s the one who took it that far.”

Adam shook his head and handed the phone to Keith to
answer the text. Keith flipped it closed and set it back on
the table.

“You’re not going to answer him?”

“Sleep now, babe. I’m a rock star. I’m not supposed to be
awake for at least six more hours.”

“Oh thank God. I knew there was a reason I started
sleeping with you.” He kissed Keith’s temple and got them
both back under the covers. For now it seemed his
trespass of the night before was forgotten and all was
forgiven. When the phone beeped again a few minutes
later, he figured if anybody needed them, it could wait until
they woke up next time.

Chapter Eleven

Sebastian had toyed with not telling Jason where he was
going, but considering he didn’t know how long he’d be

gone and he didn’t want to leave his car in the long-term
parking at the airport, he had to ask for a ride. And even
though by now he was fairly sure Adam and Keith weren’t
serial murderers waiting to get him alone and then kill him
—except maybe accidentally, by really enthusiastic sex—it
never hurt to have someone who knew his whereabouts,
just in case. It was a really good thing he’d already told
Jason about his threesome with them at Pride; as it was,
his roommate was still giving him hell.

“I swear, Baz, if you don’t bring pictures back with you, I’m
going to tell everyone you went to a convention for people
who grow pot in their parents’ basement and sell it to
kindergarteners.”

“What?” Sebastian had laughed, which was obviously what
Jason had intended, but there was still a serious note in the
threat. “Since when are kindergarteners a major market for
illegal marijuana?”

Jason shrugged. “Since you started getting flown out to
fucking California two weeks before Christmas for a

booty

call

with two of the sexiest men in the known universe.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Damn, dude, why are you even still enrolled in classes?
You’ve got

two

sugar daddies willing to pay for your candy

ass.”

Sebastian had done the only thing he could possibly do as
a mature young adult; he’d flipped his middle finger up at
his roommate. “Maybe I’d rather have a degree than be a
whore. Ever thought of that?”

Jason had pretended to consider it for a moment. “Nope.
Does not compute.” He grinned. “I’m pretty sure you can
have a degree and still be a whore if you want to. Seriously
though, have fun. And if you can get pictures… Hell yeah,
send ’em.”

Somehow, even knowing who had bought his ticket,
Sebastian still hadn’t been expecting the way the lady at the
check-in had given him a wide smile and called him “Mr.
Keane” and invited him to wait for his flight in the platinum
members’ lounge.

“Don’t worry; you won’t miss the call for first-class boarding.
They announce it inside the lounge.”

And that was when he noticed his seat assignment on the
ticket: 3B, Premium Package, First Class. Jesus, maybe
he

could

drop out of college and let Adam and Keith be his

sugar daddies. Except he’d never respect himself, and he
had a feeling Adam—who had been so happy that
Sebastian had turned him down over an internship—would
kick his ass.

He was still in shock when he settled into the plush first-

class seat and buckled himself in. The first thing he noticed
was how much more

room

he had than he was used to.

Instead of being snug up against the seat next to him, he
could spread out comfortably. He had so much leg room he
felt like he was wallowing in open space. Being less than
five and a half feet tall, he’d never felt particularly cramped
on planes in the first place, unlike some of his taller friends,
but his usual seating arrangements felt like a sardine can in
comparison.

He had just gotten comfortable when one of the flight
attendants approached and bent over slightly, putting him at
eye level with her subtle cleavage. Was it a calculated
move? Were first-class passengers supposed to tip?

“Good afternoon, sir. Would you like anything?”

Sebastian stared at her blankly, but her perma-smile never
wavered.

“We offer sodas, water, and a modest range of alcoholic
beverages, including beer, red and white wine, and liquor
with simple mixers.” Her eyes flickered over him, and he
knew she was debating whether he was old enough to even
have alcohol.

“Rum and Coke?” He didn’t drink very often aside from
beer on Thursday nights during

Boyfriends

-watching

parties, but he remembered liking rum and Coke the one

time Jason had fixed it for him.

“Of course. If you don’t mind, may I see your ID?”

He handed her his driver’s license, and she studied it for a
moment before handing it back. Jason liked to tease him
that, with his baby face, he’d still be getting ID’d when he
was forty.

“Thank you, Mr. Keane. I’ll be right back with your
beverage.”

She didn’t take long at all, and Sebastian sipped at the
drink as the rest of the passengers filed onto the plane and
moved back to business and economy seating. He had to
admit, it was much more comfortable waiting for takeoff in
his new digs.

As the plane started to taxi away from the airport, the
friendly attendant who had served him his drink took her
place at the front of the plane and narrated the beginning-
of-flight pleasantries.

“Hello, and welcome aboard CTC Airlines Flight 1798 with
nonstop service to Los Angeles’s LAX airport. Your pilot
today is Captain Dustin McDonough, and your copilot is
Lieutenant James Cassaday. Your flight attendants will be
demonstrating the plane’s safety features in one moment,
and we ask that you give them your full attention. On behalf
of your Charlotte-based flight crew, thank you for choosing

CTC Airlines, and we hope you have a pleasant flight.”

Sebastian actually did pay attention to the safety features,
as he was uncertain whether first class might have a
different procedure than economy, but there didn’t seem to
be anything different at all, and soon enough he was left to
entertain himself with his MP3 player and the few
amusements he’d packed into his school bookbag. Jason
had seen him packing

Journalism and Ethics in the

Twenty-First Century

and the GRE study guide in a fit of

responsibility and had made it his mission to supply
Sebastian with pleasure reading as well. Of course,
Jason’s definition of pleasure reading was a collection of
smutty novels and a copy of

Playgirl

, though he lamented

that, considering Sebastian’s recent experiences, the bar
had been raised for finding shocking material. He had all of
Keith’s songs—including a few live bootlegs—cued up on
his MP3 player. He had episodes of

Boyfriends

downloaded too, and he figured he would watch them later,
if he didn’t fall asleep first. Planes had a tendency to make
him sleepy.

Deciding that he wasn’t ready to shock the other first-class
passengers (or himself, despite Jason’s presumptions
about his recent experiences), he skipped

Playgirl

and the

smutty novels that featured bare-chested men and even the
occasional buxom female torso on their covers. His exam-
fried brain rebelled against the thought of studying for the
GRE or reading one more book about journalism, though,

so in the end he was left trying to fill in the crossword puzzle
in the back of the airline’s in-flight magazine.

Thirteen across. “Traditional part of holidays and
celebrations.” Four letters, starts with G. Gift?—

“Oh shit!”

The lady in the seat next to him glanced at him, startled. “Is
everything all right?”

Sebastian covered his eyes with one hand and bit back a
groan. “Yes, sorry,” he said to his seatmate. “I just
remembered I completely forgot to get presents. For the
friends I’m flying out to see for Christmas.”

And because that made him sound like a self-centered jerk,
he explained, “It was a last-minute decision to visit.”

“I’m sure they appreciate you coming to see them.” The
lady smiled at him. “My family stopped giving traditional
gifts several years ago when we realized we were cluttering
up our lives with trinkets we didn’t need. Now we just try to
do something nice for each other around the holidays—
take a trip, visit, something like that.”

Sebastian couldn’t really care less about what the woman
and her family did, but he didn’t want to look rude when he
was the one who’d had an outburst of profanity. “That’s a
nice idea. I guess I’ll figure something out. Sorry to bother
you.”

He smiled at her and put his earbuds in, cranking up
Keith’s album. That just made him keep thinking about the
gifts he didn’t have, though, so he ended up switching to a
different playlist. There was nothing he could do about
buying presents at this point unless he wanted to order
something ridiculous and overpriced from the in-flight
magazine catalog, so he might as well not think about it
until they landed in LA.

* * * *

He resisted the lure of the airport’s gift shop by telling
himself that not only could he not even remotely afford
anything that would be appropriate for a television
heartthrob and a rock star, he probably wouldn’t find
anything in the airport anyway. If he’d thought about it while
he was still in Charlotte, he might have excused buying a
little trinket with the city’s name on it as a kind of touristy
thing, but Adam and Keith lived in Los Angeles. They had
no use for an “I Heart LA” shot glass. Besides, gifts might
imply intimacy, might say he was reading too much into
things. This was just sex. Just a really elaborate, expensive
booty call, as Jason had put it. There was no need for
presents.

The awkward, nervous feelings didn’t fade when he saw the
hired driver holding up a sign with his name printed on it.

Adam and Keith couldn’t pick him up at the airport for
obvious reasons, and it was nice not to have to worry about
finding a taxi service and convincing the driver that yes, he

did

mean that particular Beverly Hills address, but it still felt

weird. Especially when the driver held out his hand for
Sebastian’s luggage and said smoothly, “Mr. Keane,
welcome to Los Angeles. How was your flight?”

“Fine, thank you.” Sebastian handed over his suitcase
gracelessly. He wasn’t used to anyone else handling his
things. They didn’t say another word to each other until the
car pulled up in front of a sprawling, intimidating house. The
gate swung open silently—Sebastian didn’t know why he
had expected it to creak—and closed behind them. The
driver got out and brought Sebastian’s suitcase to him from
the trunk, handing it off with a smile and a “Happy holidays,
Mr. Keane.”

Sebastian was uncertain about whether he should tip the
man, but he assumed Adam would have taken care of that
already. “Thank you. Happy holidays to you as well.”

And then it was just him and this great big house. Wouldn’t
he feel like an idiot if he got to the door and nobody was
home? He pressed the doorbell button, and the chiming
sound landed in his stomach like a rock. A house this big,
maybe they had staff. What if the butler took one look at him
in his tight I TAUGHT YOUR BOYFRIEND THAT THING
YOU LIKE shirt and his stylishly ripped jeans and sent him

packing? Maybe he should have told the driver to wait.

He definitely wasn’t expecting Keith to answer the door in a
pair of clingy, wet Speedos and nothing else.

“Kitten! You’re here! Go put your bags in your room and
come get in the hot tub with us.” Keith leaned forward and
kissed his cheek. Sebastian stared, so shocked he
couldn’t even protest the nickname, and Keith finally
seemed to clue in. “Oh, sorry, you don’t actually know where
any of that is, do you?” A wink and a smile, and Keith
stepped back to let him into the house. “Well, come with
me. I’ll show you.”

Sebastian tried not to gawk as he followed Keith up a
massive staircase to the second floor. Keith showed him
into a lush room with a huge, soft bed and gestured. “You
can put your things in here. This is your room. Obviously,
you’re welcome to stay in our room as much as you want,
but we thought you might like to have your own space.”

Keith hovered in the doorway, looking like he was going to
eat Sebastian alive. “You’re welcome to change into a
bathing suit, if you brought one, but au naturel is fine too.”
He smirked and snapped the waistband on his wet
Speedos. “I’m only wearing this ’cause I knew I was going
to be answering the door.”

Sebastian finally found his tongue. “I, uh, didn’t bring a

swimsuit, so…”

“Awesome!” Keith stripped his Speedos off right there, and
Sebastian lost his capacity for speech all over again. “The
Jacuzzi is downstairs in the solarium. Adam’s already
there. Do you want me to stick around and play tour guide,
or would you rather have some privacy and find it yourself?”

Sebastian almost asked for privacy, but then he thought of
how ridiculous that was. As if he hadn’t spent all night and
half a day naked in Keith and Adam’s bed already, getting
fucked silly. Still, he hadn’t expected to be stripping within
fifteen minutes of walking in the door. “No, I’ll—hang on, let
me get out of these clothes.”

“That’s the spirit.” Keith leaned against the door frame,
unabashedly ogling him as he shimmied out of his clothes.
He folded them self-consciously, leaving them on the foot of
the bed, and then he was facing Keith, his cock unable to
decide whether it wanted to rise at the sight of Keith Black
eye-fucking him or crawl up inside his body and hide from
sheer embarrassment.

“God, you’re pretty.” Keith looked him up and down again,
and Sebastian’s dick finally made up its mind, starting to
fill. “I’d forgotten how gorgeous you really are. C’mon, let’s
go remind Adam.”

Sebastian had plenty of time to ogle Keith’s bare ass as he

followed the man down to the solarium—

A solarium, for

fuck’s sake

!—where the hot tub was. Keith dropped his wet

Speedos into a wicker hamper in a bathroom as they
passed, and then he was opening the door to a glassed-in
room with a view of a beautiful backyard. Well-manicured
gardens surrounded a pool area that looked inviting even in
the depth of winter…or probably would if it wasn’t pouring
rain.

What really caught Sebastian’s eye, however, was the huge
hot tub and the man reclining in it. Adam’s hair was dark
and wet, slicked back from his face, and droplets of water
sparkled on his tanned shoulders.

“Hi, Sebastian.” Adam grinned. “I’m glad you made it. Sorry
about your internship, though.”

That was the first Sebastian had even thought about the
internship since before the plane had touched down at
LAX. Maybe this trip had been a better idea than he’d
realized. At least he wasn’t sitting at home moping. “Thank
you. Thanks for inviting me.”

Keith clambered into the hot tub and kissed Adam before
sprawling next to him and gesturing to Sebastian. “C’mon,
kitten. We only bite where you like it.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at Keith and climbed into the tub.
The water was exactly the right temperature, and he found a

spot where the water jets hit him just right against his thighs
and back. It was a delicious massage, and Sebastian
closed his eyes, relaxing back into the warm, pulsing water.

“I think he likes it.” Keith chuckled, and Sebastian cracked
open one eye to look at him.

“I think you’re right.” Adam smiled warmly, one muscled arm
slung over Keith’s shoulder. Sebastian watched them from
across the tub, noting the contrasts between them—Adam
warm and golden like summer sunshine and sand, Keith
dark and yet somehow sparkling, like fireworks at night.
They fit together so perfectly, and Sebastian was amazed
that they wanted him at all, much less enough to fly him out
to LA for a weekend.

“I think he should come over here and show us how much
he likes it.” Keith leered at him, and Adam stroked the skin
under Keith’s ear.

“Give him time to settle in, babe.” Keith leaned into the
caress, and Adam rewarded him with a kiss to his temple,
holding Sebastian’s gaze the whole time. “He just got here.
You can suck his dick after he’s had a chance to get his
bearings.”

Keith pouted, but it was a playful expression, and
Sebastian suddenly felt a lot more at ease. This was a bit
closer to what he remembered: Keith wild and

mischievous, Adam cool and seductive.

Despite the expensively decorated house he was sitting in,
he was suddenly aware of them as people, as the men who
had used his body so skillfully and tenderly two and a half
months earlier, and not as their celebrity personas. He
relaxed into the pulsating water jets, comfortable enough
with the moment to let his eyes drift closed.

That was his first mistake.

His second was not reacting when a foot brushed his ankle
and then went higher up his leg. He didn’t have time to
make a third mistake; his lap was full of wet, horny,
impatient rock star, and he heard Adam laughing as Keith
bent down to brush his open mouth over Sebastian’s lips.

Naked with nothing but hot, swirling water between them,
Sebastian was acutely aware of the way his cock swelled,
lifting toward Keith’s body.

“Have you had time to settle in and get your bearings yet?”
Keith murmured. His wet hand pushed through Sebastian’s
hair, securing Sebastian’s long bangs behind his ear.
“Because I’ve been waiting for you to get here for two
weeks, and I want to see if you taste as good as I
remember.”

“Yeah.” The word came out as barely a breath, and
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah.”

Chapter Twelve

Keith could feel Adam’s gaze on him as he groped Baz,
playing at deep kisses and bold hands before backing
away, teasing the small, tight body beneath him. He hadn’t
been lying when he’d told Baz he’d forgotten how pretty he
was. In fact, he’d started wondering if he’d only imagined
the boy’s good looks, if his memory was tainted by the
euphoric colors of that performance. It had been a damn
good concert that night, and Adam had been there, which
always made things that much better. It wouldn’t have been
a stretch for his memory to be exaggerating.

But no, if anything, Keith’s memory had dimmed and
downplayed it. Baz was

gorgeous

.

“Bring him over here, babe.” Adam’s voice was low and
raspy, vibrating through Keith’s body with a deep green
rumble. Keith obeyed, leaning back and pulling Baz with
him. Adam’s hands caught him and guided him back until
Keith was seated beside Adam, wet skin pressed tightly
against him from shoulder to knee, and Baz was stretched
across their laps, straddling their legs. Adam nibbled at the
left side of Baz’s neck, and Keith took it as a cue to lick up
the right side. Baz shuddered between them, one hand
tightening on Keith’s shoulder. The other was splayed

across Adam’s chest.

“So sweet,” Adam murmured. The candy-cane ripple of his
voice made Keith want to taste it, so he licked across the
arch of Baz’s throat until he found Adam’s mouth. He licked
Adam’s tongue where it was lapping at Baz’s skin, tasting
both of them at once. The salty flavor burst across his
palate, and he groaned as he felt his dick go from hard to
painful.

“Jesus.” He barely registered Baz’s voice before there was
another tongue licking at his and Adam’s mouths, and
Jesus fucking Christ, why hadn’t they tried this before? It
was awkward and sloppy and messy and so fucking hot
Keith had to reach down to grab his cock around the base
so he wouldn’t come before the fun started.

“I think we need to move.” Adam didn’t sound convinced of
his own argument, and Keith homed in on the weakness,
reaching over to tug Adam’s dick. The water made it oddly
weightless, and he had to grip harder to feel like he was
getting a good hold. “To the bed.”

“I don’t want to move.” Baz squeezed their legs between his
thighs for emphasis, and Keith felt the press and rub of
Baz’s balls and dick in the groove between his leg and
Adam’s. “This would be really hard without the water.”

“Feels pretty hard even with the water.” Keith snickered,

unable to resist the pun. Adam flicked his ear, which was
just juvenile enough to be an appropriate punishment.

Adam still hesitated, obviously thinking of the dangerous
possibilities of free-floating semen in the water, but he was
apparently as powerless to resist Baz as Keith was. “All
right.” He slipped a hand behind Baz’s back, and Keith felt
Baz’s hips jerk against them. “Ride our thighs, baby, just
like you rode me the first time.”

Baz groaned and bucked his hips, his head lolling back to
expose his slender neck. The skin of his chest was flushing
pink with the heat of the water, and red splotches were
creeping down his neck from the rush of arousal. Keith
thought he looked like he should taste like strawberries, but
when he leaned forward and licked over the rose-mottled
skin, it tasted like salt with a faint hint of chlorine. Baz
groaned when Keith found his nipple and sucked on it,
pressing against it hard with his tongue.

“Oh God, yeah, fuck me,” Baz said breathlessly, and Keith
let his hand drift down to Baz’s ass, smiling when he found
Adam’s hand already there, confirming his suspicions.
Adam had worked one finger into Baz’s ass and was
thrusting so slowly as to be mostly rubbing. Keith moved
carefully to slide his own finger in next to Adam’s, and Baz
trembled hard in their arms.

It wasn’t quite dry, not with the warm water making their skin

slippery, but water wasn’t lube, and the slide wasn’t as
smooth as it could’ve been. Baz took it without
complaining, though, pushing his ass down onto their
fingers and then rocking forward to thrust his cock into the
channel between their thighs.

Keith tried to prod Baz farther into their laps. It took him a
moment, but Baz got the picture and shifted up so that one
knee was pressing into Adam’s crotch, the other into
Keith’s. The bony kneecap was almost too much against
Keith’s hard dick, but he squirmed until the pressure was
on the good side of painful. Baz was much more
conservative with his thrusts now, and Keith was profoundly
grateful.

Keith brought his free hand to Baz’s dick and pressed it
down into the space where Keith’s leg met Adam’s, making
it easier for Baz to get friction as he thrust into the groove.
Baz let out a deep groan, and Keith shivered. Adam’s
finger was hot against his inside Baz, and the wet sounds
of Adam’s mouth against Baz’s nipple made Keith want to
find something tight and hot to thrust his dick into. Maybe
moving to the bed wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

But Baz’s hips were stuttering now, like he was on the
verge of coming, and Keith would never be so cruel as to
interrupt a man on the verge of orgasm. Especially not
when that man was making the sexiest goddamn noises
he’d ever heard. Baz ground his hips down into Keith’s and

Adam’s thighs, and a burst of something hotter than the
water tickled Keith’s leg and the palm of his hand.

Baz folded forward, his face pressing into their upper arms
as he panted through the aftershocks. His breath was cold
against the moisture on Keith’s arm, and Keith felt
gooseflesh rise in its wake.

Adam slipped his finger carefully from Baz’s hole, drawing
another groan, and Keith wiggled his finger around inside
for a moment to feel Baz’s reflexive twitch before he pulled
out too. Baz shifted, seeming uncomfortable, and Adam
helped him move so that his butt was resting on Keith’s lap,
his torso curled against Adam’s chest.

“Bed now?” Adam stroked one hand down Baz’s sternum
to his stomach where he found Keith’s hand and linked their
fingers together.

“Mm-hmm.” Baz seemed much less inclined to argue now
that he’d orgasmed, and Keith chuckled. He and Adam had
an agreement that they wouldn’t make any important
decisions right after sex for exactly that reason.

They managed to get Baz on his feet, although he was
pliant and sleepy and almost too relaxed to stand. With
some effort, they coaxed him out of the hot tub, dried him
off, and herded him upstairs, tucked securely between
them.

“I think if he could, he would have rolled over and gone to
sleep,” Keith commented over Baz’s head. Adam laughed
when Baz didn’t even bother defending himself. Adam
hesitated when they passed the guest room where Baz had
put his suitcase, but they kept going until they got to the
master bedroom that Keith and Adam shared.

They got Baz into the bed, pulling the cool sheets up over
his naked body. His eyelids fluttered open, bright slivers of
turquoise showing beneath long, dark lashes, and Keith
was reminded sharply that he hadn’t come yet. The cool air
against his skin when he’d gotten out of the hot tub had
leached away some of the urgency, but watching Baz wet
his pouty lips with that sweet pink tongue sent the blood
rushing back to his dick, making it heavy and hard, like a
goddamn baseball bat between his legs.

He turned to Adam, his lover’s body backlit by their
bedside lamp, and reached for him. Keith’s hand skimmed
along Adam’s arm, fingertips tickling down over Adam’s
palms and back up over his wrists. “Babe.” His voice was
hoarse, scratchy, and he cleared his throat to try again.
“Can I fuck you? Please?”

The look Adam turned on him was heated, and Adam
nodded without saying a word. He crawled up onto the bed,
nudging Baz over, and Keith climbed up behind him. Baz’s
eyes were open more now, waking up as he took interest in
what was going on.

“Just put it in, Keith.” Adam was on his elbows and knees,
his head resting on a thin pillow, his hips in the air. “Hurry.”

Adam loved foreplay, so to hear him that desperate for a
fuck—for Keith—made Keith’s hands shake as he grabbed
the lube and condom out of the bedside table. A small
dollop under the condom to make it more comfortable,
more on the outside of the condom for Adam, and then two
fingers in Adam’s hole to spread the rest of the slickness
and stretch him. Keith’s dick wasn’t as thick as Adam’s,
though it was almost as long, but Adam didn’t bottom as
often as Keith did.

Baz rolled onto his side and propped his head up on one
hand, watching with interest as Keith grabbed Adam’s hips
and lined himself up. Holding his cock steady with one
hand, he pushed slowly until the head popped in. Adam
groaned and twitched away, and Keith held still. Baz,
apparently having given up sleeping for the live porn going
on in front of him, reached underneath Adam and fondled
his cock and balls. Keith felt the butterfly brush of fingertips
against his shaft as Sebastian explored Adam’s skin. A
moment later, the touch was back, firmer now, Sebastian’s
fingers scissoring around Keith’s dick and pressing into
Adam’s ass on either side.

Adam groaned louder, the sound bursting into Keith’s mind
in a tangle of bright blue and purple, and Baz started
working himself underneath Adam’s body as Keith pushed

in ever deeper. Right about the time Baz got his head
under Adam’s hips, Keith bottomed out inside his lover, his
balls bumping against Baz’s knuckles, Baz’s fingers
trapped between Keith’s groin and Adam’s ass.

Adam made a strangled noise, and from the wet, muffled
moans beneath him, Keith figured that Baz had just taken
Adam’s dick into his mouth. He was still careful as he
pulled out and then thrust into Adam again, not wanting to
shove that massive cock too deep into Baz’s throat without
warning. Baz’s fingers stayed where they were, tightening
around Keith’s dick as he pulled out, loosening and pulling
open Adam’s hole when Keith thrust back in.

Keith watched through slitted eyes when Adam tugged
Baz’s hips around so that they were in a sixty-nine as Keith
fucked deeper into Adam. Then it was too much to watch,
and Keith couldn’t keep his eyes open when multicolored
fireworks exploded inside his brain. He was aware of
Adam tightening around him, but he didn’t know anything
outside the heated rush of pleasure in his blood until the
swirl of colors melted away as tension leaked out of his
body.

When he finally came back to himself, Baz had wiggled out
from under Adam’s body and reclined against the pillows,
his cock lying limply against his thigh, shiny with spit and
traces of cum. Baz’s fingers trailed up Adam’s arm,
skimming over his shoulder and neck before tickling down

over his chest.

Under Keith on his hands and knees, Adam was gasping
for breath, and Keith reached around his hips to see if he
was still hard. Adam’s cock was as wet as Baz’s looked—
half-hard but softening—and Adam pushed him away with a
hissed breath when Keith touched his skin. Still sensitive,
then.

Keith was careful when he pulled out, holding the condom
with one hand and stroking Adam’s hip with the other. He’d
actually planned on maybe having an hour or so of
conversation with Baz before they got right back into the
sex, but the anticipation of his not-Christmas present had
been enough to not only ward off the typical posttour
depression all these weeks, it had kept him in a state of
elevated bliss…and arousal.

He almost felt like he should apologize, but Baz was
smiling, his features all fuzzy and soft with afterglow, and
Adam was shaking under Keith’s hands as he sucked air
into his lungs, his sides heaving for breath. What the hell
did he have to apologize for?

Besides, Baz was there for at least a couple of days, so
they would have plenty of time to talk. It wasn’t like they
could have sex 24-7, at least not without chemical help. The
colors had faded into soft green and baby blue, pale and
comforting and not nearly as overwhelming as the

kaleidoscope that had accompanied his orgasm. They
made him sleepy, made him feel young and small and
secure, and he lay down behind Adam and reached over to
touch Baz—who was younger and smaller, and who had
wrapped himself in Adam’s arms. A cold, sharp feeling the
color of ice—deceptively clear but clouded and distorted in
some places—settled into his stomach, and he clutched
both his lovers tighter in reaction.

He’d told Adam once that he thought whoever hardwired
him had completely forgotten to hook up the jealousy
connection. Not once in any relationship, especially this one
with Adam, had he ever felt any spark of such an emotion.

Until now.

Chapter Thirteen

Adam was sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook,
nursing a cup of coffee and skimming the headlines in the

LA Times

when he heard the soft sound of bare feet on the

stairs. Since Keith had been dead to the world only twenty
minutes ago and the footsteps weren’t accompanied by
bitching and grumbling about how it was too damn early to
be awake, Adam figured it must be their guest.

“Good morning.” Sebastian’s voice was tentative in the
hushed room, as if he didn’t want to disturb Adam’s

silence.

“Morning.” Adam kept his own voice quiet to match
Sebastian’s and smiled at the kid. “There’s coffee in the
kitchen. Mugs are in the cabinet above the coffeemaker, if
you want some. Sugar’s in the canister behind the maker.
Cream’s in the fridge.”

Adam watched over the edge of the paper as Sebastian
shuffled into the kitchen and went about making himself a
cup of coffee. As Adam had expected, it ended up being
mostly sugar and cream with the coffee poured in as an
afterthought. He hid a smile in his mug as he took another
drink of his own coffee, feeling a twitch low in his stomach
when Sebastian groaned in pleasure at the first sip of
creamy, sugary caffeine.

Sebastian brought his confection over to the table and slid
into the chair across from Adam. Adam offered him the
paper, and Sebastian hesitated for a moment before he
took the National News section, surprising Adam, who had
honestly expected him to go for Entertainment or the
comics.

Adam took the Entertainment section for himself, and they
read in companionable silence, the only sound the
occasional slurp of hot coffee or the rustle of a page. It
wasn’t much longer before Keith came down, probably
awakened by the absence of warm bodies in the bed with

him, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He paused at the table
to kiss Adam, then put his thumb under Sebastian’s chin.
Sebastian seemed a little surprised, but he tilted his face
up anyway, and Keith kissed him too, lingering a little more
than he had with Adam.

“Mm,” Keith said after he pulled back. “Sweet.” He gave
Adam a sly look, and Adam arched an eyebrow and
slurped loudly at black coffee.

Keith grinned and went into the kitchen to get his own cup
of coffee, which would fall somewhere between Adam’s
and Sebastian’s on the sweetness scale. Adam started
reading the entertainment news a little faster, knowing Keith
would want it, and froze when he saw a review of Keith’s
West Hollywood concert. The reviewer had given the
concert a C-plus, saying that she would have rated him
higher except for a few scathing observations about his
personal life that, quite honestly, were none of her fucking
business. Not that she admitted that last part.

Shit. Keith had an agent for these kinds of things—to call
him and tell him not to read the paper. Or to call Adam and
tell him to spill coffee on the Entertainment pages before
Keith woke up. Keith had been doing much better than
normal after this tour, and Adam didn’t want to take the very
real chance that this review would knock his feet right out
from under him.

Trying not to make too much noise, Adam folded the
Entertainment page and shuffled it underneath the World,
Business, and Sports pages. With any luck, Keith would get
distracted by the comics and the Sunday black belt Sudoku
puzzle, and that catty little “review” would stay hidden long
enough for Adam to throw it away. Adam noticed
Sebastian watching him curiously, but the kid didn’t ask
and Adam didn’t have time to explain anyway. He shook his
head subtly, hoping Sebastian got the hint.

Adam set the comics in front of the empty chair where Keith
would sit when he came back and took the Local pages for
himself. Keith sank into his chair like he’d been on his feet
for a month, his coffee mug clutched firmly in both hands.
He never started talking in full sentences until after his
second cup, so Adam was surprised for more than one
reason when he asked, “Why are you reading the Local
pages? You hate those.”

Adam was aware of Sebastian watching them over the
edge of the National News section, his bright blue eyes
tracking their movements and expressions like he was
going to have to write a report on them.

“Just thought I’d glance at it,” Adam drawled, hoping the
little white lie sounded natural. From the way Keith frowned
at him, he hadn’t succeeded.

“You know your Georgia accent gets stronger when you’re

lying to me.” Keith took another long sip of his coffee.

“Florida,” Adam corrected automatically. Keith waved him
off. It was an old argument; north-central Florida might as
well have belonged to Georgia instead. Even his high
school mascot had been chosen in honor of the University
of Georgia Bulldogs.

Sebastian stopped being subtle about his observation then
and put down the paper he wasn’t reading. “I didn’t know
you were from Florida.”

Adam shrugged uncomfortably. “I left the day after I
graduated high school. Moved to LA, waited tables,
auditioned at every open call. The usual story.”

“My older sister went to college in Gainesville.” Sebastian
fumbled for his coffee and took a drink to hide his sudden
awkwardness, but Adam was grateful. His curiosity had
steered the conversation away from Keith digging deeper
into their change in routine.

Adam laughed. “Gator Nation. I think half my graduating
class went there.” Adam glanced furtively at Keith. He
wished he could tell his lover not to read the Entertainment
pages instead of hiding it from him like this, but Keith was
too curious by half and would ferret it out anyway. The best
Adam could hope for was keeping him distracted long
enough for Adam to dispose of the pages.

His mind raced, trying to come up with a ploy, when he
finally remembered that it was, thank fuck,

Christmas

. “Hey,

babe.” He kicked Keith’s ankle lightly under the table,
staying there long enough to rub up Keith’s calf with his
foot. “Do you want to go look at the holiday lights tonight?
Candy Cane Lane, maybe?”

“That could be fun.” Keith looked to Sebastian. “What do
you say? If you get bored, we can always pull over to the
side of the road and make out.”

Adam arched an eyebrow. “And get arrested.”

Keith kicked him back, but Sebastian laughed. “Sure.
Could be fun. Do I have to wear pants?”

* * * *

The paper was forgotten as they made plans, and after all
the coffee was gone and Sebastian had run upstairs to
take a shower, Adam started cleaning up the breakfast
nook. He gathered all the sections of the newspaper and
stuffed them into the recycling bin, allowing himself a sigh at
having dodged that bullet.

But of course, he wasn’t that lucky.

“Hey, babe? Don’t throw the paper away yet. I haven’t seen

the Entertainment section.” Keith wandered into the kitchen,
somehow still looking sleep-mussed and adorable after
he’d been awake for more than an hour.

“It’s already in the recycling bin. I’m sorry; I guess I wasn’t
thinkin’.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed, and Adam froze. “You’ve got an
accent again. Both times it’s been about the paper. What
are you hiding from me?”

Adam sighed and set the coffee mugs down in the sink
before turning to face Keith. “Shirley Mason reviewed your
WeHo concert.”

“Dammit.” Keith went right over to the recycle bin and
started digging for the pages. “What did she say this time?
Another ‘cheap David Bowie rip-off’? ‘Postbreakdown
Britney Spears with a dick’? ‘Just like Justin Bieber—
except old, ugly, and untalented’?”

“Jesus, Keith, stop.” Adam tried to block Keith’s access to
the recycle bin, but Keith fought past him, determined to pull
out the pages. All those things were, in fact, things that
Shirley Mason had said about him at some time or another.
No matter how much Adam told Keith that she was just
taking her homophobia out on him—the columnist had
written a long piece in support of Proposition 8 back when
it was up for votes—Keith persisted in viewing it as

personal.

“No. I wanna know what she said.”

“For fuck’s sake! She said the only reason anybody came
to your concerts was because they hoped you would fuck
them afterwards! That you’re a slut who can’t sing! Are you
happy now?”

Keith straightened up from rummaging in the recycle bin,
and Adam thought—hoped—he’d given up. That Adam’s
summary of the worst parts had been enough for Keith’s
masochism. Instead Keith held up the piece of paper,
soaked through with coffee-water, little bits of coffee
grounds clinging to it.

“You put the coffee grounds in the recycle bin.” Keith’s
voice sounded tight, like he was trying to keep from losing
it. “Coffee grounds don’t go in the recycling. They go in the
compost.” His voice cracked at the end, and he closed his
mouth with a snap of teeth that Adam could hear from two
feet away.

“Babe…” Adam reached out but stopped without actually
touching him, unsure if his touch would be welcome or
make things worse.

Keith slammed the soggy paper back into the recycling and
paced away, bracing his hands on the kitchen counter.
Adam approached him carefully, one hand rubbing softly

across his back. Adam felt the shudder that worked its way
through Keith’s body right about the time he heard the
shower upstairs go off.

“Can we save this for later?” Adam kept up his soothing
massage, hoping it would take the sting out of his request.
“After Sebastian has gone home? Or maybe after he’s
asleep tonight?”

Keith let out a long, shaky breath and nodded. “Yeah. Baz
didn’t sign up for this. Okay.” But he still didn’t move, and
Adam just kept touching him. “Goddamn it,” Keith finally
said, his voice sounding more normal. “I fucking hate
journos.”

A soft sound at the door made Adam look up to see
Sebastian standing there, toweling his wet hair. A blue T-
shirt clung to his torso, emphasizing his trim physique and
the color of his eyes. He looked a little deer-in-the-
headlights, and Adam guessed he’d overheard enough to
know that Keith was seriously upset.

“Hey, Sebastian,” Adam said, trying for welcoming and
reassuring. “Come on in.”

“Sorry, kitten.” Keith stood up and ran a hand through his
hair. Adam could barely tell he was shaking. “Bad review. I
get a little overreactive sometimes.”

“No, that’s…that’s fine. I mean, hell, you should see me if I

get a C on a paper.” Sebastian’s smile was a little anemic,
but it was an A-plus effort. “And anyway, I think you’re great,
so screw the haters.”

“Thanks.” Keith laughed, but it still sounded a little off to
Adam’s ear. At least he was talking, engaging. As long as
he was able to moderate his interactions, there was a
chance this wouldn’t get the better of him just yet. They
might still have to pay the piper later, but they could deal
with that then. “I don’t think I’d even mind so much if she
didn’t like the music, but it’s like… I don’t know. My sex life
is none of her business, and even if it were, she’s got a
double standard. Hell, the

whole fucking world

has a double

standard. If I were sleeping with girls instead, I’d be a stud,
you know? I guess it’s sleeping with men that gets you
labeled a slut.”

Adam waited, unsure how Sebastian would take Keith’s
outburst, and the kid tilted his head, looking thoughtful for a
minute. “I guess it must rock to be a lesbian. You’re not a
slut, and the girls you’re sleeping with aren’t either.”

Keith snorted, almost a giggle, and Adam grinned.

“I’m not sure it works quite like that.” Adam checked his
watch; it was only about eleven a.m. Nothing interesting
would be happening for several hours, and Keith could use
a distraction. They all could, probably. “Ah, we don’t usually
have guests for longer than a couple of hours,” Adam said,

glancing at Keith and then at Sebastian. “So I have no idea
what you would like to do. Keith and I usually sit around with
our laptops.”

“Watching porn,” Keith added. He was only half joking.

Sebastian smiled at them both, and some of the
awkwardness finally started leaving his expression. “Well, I
brought my laptop, and I’ve been going nonstop for the past
three months, so I don’t mind vegging out a little.”

“Cool. Keith, get him set up on our wireless, and I’ll call and
make reservations for dinner so we don’t have to fight the
crowds. Italian okay with everybody?” Nobody had an
argument for him, so Adam kissed them both briefly and
sent them off to get their computers. He figured he’d give
them twenty minutes before they got bored and started
making porn of their own.

Chapter Fourteen

Sebastian was having a hell of a time concentrating on
anything. His Internet surfing patterns looked something like
the path of an attention-deficient squirrel. On crack. He
knew Keith hadn’t meant anything in particular—after all,
he’d just been very personally attacked by a columnist—but
Sebastian still felt a little nervous. He didn’t think he’d ever
told Adam or Keith what his major was, and even aside

from the nasty, overly personal review, it seemed like a
conflict of interests. Sebastian knew he would never sell
either of them out, even if he

had

the connections in the

press to do so, and for more reasons than because
revealing his part in their threesome would be detrimental
to his own ambitions in political journalism. But despite the
fact that they’d gone to a fair bit of trouble for this trip, he
was still little more than a one-night stand to them. They had
no reason to trust him.

Maybe they didn’t need to be told. Maybe this was the last
time he’d see them. But then again, they seemed to like
him a lot, at least as far as casual fuck buddies went, and
he wouldn’t say no if they invited him back. It was the best
sex of his life—which, okay, he’d only lost his virginity at
nineteen, but he’d had enough mediocre sex in the two
years he’d been having it to know that this was off the
charts.

Or he could just tell them and hope it wasn’t actually a big
deal. That he was worrying about nothing. But, as his father
had been fond of saying, nothing is ever “nothing.” Or
maybe his father was paranoid. Maybe it ran in the family.

It was in the middle of worrying about this that he realized
he could hear the

ping

of Keith’s and Adam’s instant

messenger programs bouncing back and forth in a pattern
that sounded an awful lot like they were talking to each
other. On messenger. While sitting less than five feet apart.

An uncomfortable chill crept into Sebastian’s stomach, and
he shifted in the leather recliner they’d invited him to sit in.
Were they talking about him? And even if they weren’t, what
were they talking about that they couldn’t tell him?

Plenty, you dumbass, he scolded himself. They’re a couple.
They’ve been together for years. They have all kinds of
things they say to each other that you’re not a part of. It’s
fine. They’re probably discussing some kind of business.

But the chill in his abdomen didn’t go away. It turned sour
as he realized that, if they knew he was a journalism major,
they would be even less inclined to discuss business out
loud. And for some reason, he really wanted to be able to
pretend he was a normal part of them, that what they had
going was a little special, that he was more than just a
temporary fuck.

Of course, he knew better. He was going to have to go
back to college after this amazing weekend, decide what
the fuck he was going to do about the spring internship
offer, and get on with his mediocre life.

“Sebastian?”

Adam’s voice interrupted his breakup preplans, and he
jumped guiltily. “Yes?”

“It’s totally my fault—I forgot to mention packing anything

specific—but you wouldn’t happen to have packed, say,
business casual wear, would you?”

Sebastian’s heart sank a little. “No. Why?”

“I just remembered—”

Keith cleared his throat, and Adam backtracked.

“Keith just reminded me that the restaurant I made
reservations at doesn’t have a dress code exactly, but
you’d feel out of place in casual clothes. We can change
the reservations, although chances are there won’t be much
available this late in the game that isn’t at a similar place,
or we can stay home and you can brave our cooking. You
won’t get food poisoning. Probably. Or we can order in”—
Adam took a breath—“or, if you’re okay with it, we can run
out and find you something really quick.”

Adam looked uncomfortable saying it, and that made
Sebastian feel like squirming. Jesus. He was making their
life so fucking complicated. Even if Adam had told him to
pack “business casual,” Sebastian would have been shit
out of luck. He didn’t have anything like that with him at
college. It was all back home, packed in his parents’
garage with the rest of his stuff. And it wasn’t like he could
run home to his parents’ house and say, “Hi, bye, I just
came to pick up some nice clothes so I can go out with the
two guys I’m flying out to LA to fuck!”

“No, I don’t want to impose. Y’all can go, and I’ll…stay
here…and, I don’t know, order in? Or something.”

“The hell you will.” Keith frowned at him, and Sebastian felt
his stomach twist.

“No, I didn’t mean—I mean, obviously I won’t call for delivery
if y’all don’t want people to know I’m here or—”

“Keith.” Adam sighed at his lover and then gave Sebastian
an apologetic glance. “That’s not it, sweetie. We just want
you with us. That’s why we invited you out, right? I mean,
sure, for the sex, but because we like you too. We want you
to go out with us. I just wasn’t sure if you’d be
comfortable…”

Comfortable letting them buy clothes for him like a couple
of sugar daddies who had bought him a first-class ticket all
the way across the country. What had he told Jason about
not wanting to be a whore? Sebastian could feel his cheeks
heating. Damn, he must look like a giant tomato by now. Of
course, the knowledge he was blushing only made him
blush more.

“I…” He trailed off, uncertain of what he actually wanted to
say.

Keith watched him for a long moment. “We could always hit
a fast-food drive-through.” He shrugged, and then a leer
pulled up the corner of his mouth. “Although I’d love to see

you all dressed up, especially knowing you’re going to take
it off when we get home…”

And somehow, that did it. As much as he was worried
about being a rentboy, Keith’s warm flirtation eased the
knot of tension in Sebastian’s stomach and made it
bearable. He found he could smile again.

“All right, fine. I’ll pay you back in trade.”

Keith raised both fists in a victory pose, as if he’d been
trying to coax Sebastian into his bed all along, and
Sebastian couldn’t help laughing. Like he was going to be
anywhere else at the end of the day.

Adam smiled at them both. Sebastian thought he looked a
little relieved. Maybe he hadn’t been freaked out about
buying clothes for Sebastian; maybe he’d been worried
about Sebastian being freaked out.

Suddenly Sebastian wanted to drag them both upstairs and
into bed, to share this warm, happy feeling with their bare
bodies, but Adam stood and checked his watch. Sebastian
felt his stomach flip, but in a good way. Something about
the way that metal watchband shone on Adam’s wrist drew
Sebastian’s attention to his hands. Sebastian was a sucker
for hands. Adam’s were gorgeous. He really wanted to feel
them all over his body, stroking his cock, lifting his balls,
pushing into his—

“We’d better go now if we want to have time to find
something.” Adam glanced at Keith, who was dressed in
torn jeans and a faded Madonna T-shirt. “Are you ready to
go, or did you want to change clothes?”

Keith looked down at himself and held the hem of the T-
shirt away from his stomach, examining it. It was ragged, as
if he’d been wearing it daily since the—Sebastian squinted
to read what was printed on the shirt—1990 Blond
Ambition World Tour.

“What, you don’t like my Madge vintage? I thought it was
stylish.”

“So help me, if you call 1990 vintage again, I’m divorcing
you.”

Sebastian blinked at Adam’s pronouncement. He hadn’t
realized they were married. He was sure he would’ve—

“Have to marry me before you can divorce me, bitch.” Keith
was smiling, but Sebastian wondered if he was only
imagining an edge to the taunt. He knew he wasn’t
imagining the shadow that flickered across Adam’s face.

“Yeah, well.” Adam frowned down at his watch again, but
this time, Sebastian watched his eyes instead of being
distracted by his hands. They were dark, shaded with some
emotion Sebastian couldn’t name. “If we’re going, we’d

better go.”

The smile slipped right off Keith’s face, and he stood,
closing his laptop and putting it aside. “Let’s go, then.”
When Adam glanced at his shirt again, Keith shrugged.
“Nordstrom has seen me in worse. Plus, I’m famous. I can
get away with this.”

“At least I won’t stand out like a sore thumb,” Sebastian
offered, fingering the hem of his own shirt. Of course, his
wasn’t frayed and worn, but it was still clingy and stylishly
faded, the

Rolling Stone

magazine logo cracked like it was

as old as the publication instead of fresh off the shelf.

Adam gave him a mildly horrified look, and just when
Sebastian was starting to get squirmy, Adam blurted out an
apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about…”

Sebastian laughed it off. “All right, so we’ll consider it even.
You can buy me new clothes to make up for it.”

If Sebastian didn’t know better, he would have sworn that
the twin looks Adam and Keith turned on him were full of
something suspiciously like adoration. The soft kisses they
brushed over his mouth in turn made him feel like his heart
had melted all over his diaphragm, and he followed them
out to their car like a lovesick puppy.

Somebody find me a leash, he thought bitterly. I’m a goner.

* * * *

Their shopping trip to Nordstrom began as awkwardly as
Sebastian had been afraid it might as he continued to trail
along behind them, feeling useless and lost. An eager
salesman had come rushing up to them—though subtly, so
that he looked neither eager nor rushing—almost
immediately. Sebastian guessed it must have been
because Adam was dressed nicely, since both he and
Keith looked like they ought to be shopping at Target
instead. Or maybe only rich people dared to shop in
Nordstrom looking like they were one step up from sleeping
on the floor of a college dorm room.

Sebastian was a little surprised when neither Keith nor
Adam followed him into the cubicle, though perhaps it had
something to do with the conspicuous security cameras.
Instead they waited in the larger part of the dressing room,
over by the three-way mirrors. Sebastian could hear them
speaking to each other in low tones as he undressed, but
they’d fallen silent by the time he got into the first pair of
charcoal trousers and buttoned up the shimmering, bright
teal shirt they’d found.

The pants were a little long—he was short, after all—and
pooled slightly on top of his bare feet, but other than that,
they fit nicely. He turned so that he could see himself in the

one mirror on the back of the cubicle door, but it was hard
to crane his neck enough to see over his shoulder. He
wanted to make sure the pants fit his ass well, wanted to
make sure Adam and Keith got their money’s worth.

“Sebastian?”

Adam’s voice felt like it brushed across his skin, even
though he was at the other end of the dressing room, and
Sebastian took a deep, steadying breath before he opened
the cubicle and walked out. Adam sat on a bench to the
side of the mirrors, fiddling with his phone. Keith was
nowhere to be seen.

Sebastian smiled nervously at Adam, feeling especially tiny
and vulnerable in his bare feet and too-long pants. The cuffs
of the shirt’s sleeves fell past his wrists, and even though it
was part of the design, it added to the feeling of being
undersized.

Adam watched him sharply, and Sebastian couldn’t read
the look in his eyes until Adam’s tongue darted out to wet
his lips, and then the predatory light hit Sebastian like a
sucker punch, stealing the breath from his lungs.

“You look gorgeous.” Adam stood, and Sebastian felt
dwarfed by his six-foot frame. Adam slipped his iPhone
into his pocket and let his hands skim over Sebastian’s
arms, rustling the shiny fabric. Sebastian shivered when

Adam got to the collar, fingertips tickling Sebastian’s neck.

“I l-like the shirt.” Sebastian winced at how inane that
sounded, but Adam didn’t seem to notice. “It’s a nice color.”

“It’s the same color as your eyes.” Adam’s fingers danced
up Sebastian’s throat, catching his chin and tilting his face
up. “It looks good on you.”

Adam’s voice had gone husky, rasping over Sebastian’s
ears straight to his dick. He felt a tingle of arousal in his
balls as Adam’s big hand spread out, cupping Sebastian’s
face, thumb rubbing Sebastian’s cheekbone as his fingers
cradled Sebastian’s skull.

Sebastian tried to think of something to say, but when he
opened his mouth, nothing came out but a breathy moan.
He hadn’t thought it was possible for Adam’s brown eyes to
go any darker, but they did, right before Adam leaned down
and brushed his lips over Sebastian’s.

The first touch of tongues startled a tiny whimper out of
Sebastian’s throat, and even though his neck hurt from
craning it back to meet Adam’s kiss—their height
difference wasn’t making this easy on either of them—he
couldn’t make himself pull back.

Adam’s arms slid around Sebastian’s back, pulling him in
more tightly, lifting him onto his tiptoes. Sebastian clutched
at Adam’s shoulders, trying to get closer, trying to make the

angle of their kiss more comfortable, more open, just…
more. Adam’s tongue caressed his mouth like it had been
made for no other purpose, and Sebastian felt his breath
stutter in his chest, the sharp edge of pleasure sliding along
his jangling nerves.

“So good,” Adam whispered against his mouth. Sebastian
didn’t have time to say anything before Adam kissed him
again, deeper this time, like he was trying to lick all the way
into Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian wrapped one leg around
Adam’s hip to keep them from falling over and groaned as
it brought his cock into contact with Adam’s firm thigh. Body
memory had him rocking almost instantly, and it was just as
amazing as the first time, even if this time they were being
serenaded by department-store Muzak instead of Keith,
and—

Sebastian pulled back despite himself, trying in vain to
catch his breath. Adam was panting too, and Sebastian
watched his mouth, reddened and kiss swollen, until he
couldn’t remember why the hell they weren’t still making out.

“The store…clerk…cameras…” Sebastian cleared his
throat. Adam nodded, even though he looked as
disappointed as Sebastian felt. Adam let go of him, and
Sebastian stumbled backward, trying in vain to smooth out
the new wrinkles they’d put in the outfit.

“I guess we’ll be getting those,” Adam noted wryly.

Sebastian laughed, a short, breathless burst of sound, and
looked down nervously to see that the loose cut of the
slacks at least partially disguised his growing hard-on.

“I need shoes,” Sebastian blurted, curling his bare toes into
the burgundy carpet.

“And so you shall have shoes.” Keith’s voice was right
behind him. He jumped. Keith chuckled, holding out a pair
of dress shoes and socks, and Sebastian reached for them
gratefully, wondering why the hell he felt so guilty. Keith’s
gaze swept over him, and he fought the urge to cover the
bulge at his crotch in a fit of misplaced modesty.

Keith glanced at Adam and then back at Sebastian and
smirked.

“Damn. I leave for ten minutes and the party starts without
me.” He nodded to the shoes Sebastian held in his hand.
“Go ahead and try them on, kitten. Give me the price tags
from the clothes, and I’ll go pay. We’ll put your other ones in
a bag, and you can wear that out. We need to hurry if we’re
going to make our reservation time.”

Sebastian nodded dumbly, and Adam stepped aside to let
him sit down on the bench to put on the new shoes.

“I’ll grab your other clothes,” Adam said quietly. “Come out
when you’re ready.” He leaned down and bussed a quick
kiss over Sebastian’s lips, and then he was gone.

Keith stood where he was for a second, and Sebastian
held his gaze, trying not to act like he’d done something to
be ashamed of. Then he noticed that Keith was no longer
wearing his Madonna shirt and torn jeans, and he frowned.

“Did you…?”

“What, you thought you were the only person getting new
clothes?” Keith winked at him and did a half turn, showing
off the way his new black trousers hugged his ass perfectly.
The ruffled purple shirt he wore would have looked
ridiculous on anyone else, but on Keith it looked like it was
right off the pages of

GQ

. “Although I’m thinking I should’ve

changed in here so I could get some of the dressing-room
groping too.”

Sebastian was about to apologize when Keith held out his
hand and made an impatient

gimme

gesture with his

fingers.

“Tags, dude. C’mon.”

“Oh…” Sebastian looked helplessly at the price tag
hanging off the sleeve of the shirt and tried to ignore the
actual numbers printed there. “I don’t have a knife, or—”

Keith grabbed his hand, pulling his wrist up, and caught the
little plastic strip between his teeth. He bit through it,
catching the price tag in his hand, and then gestured for

Sebastian to turn around so he could get to the pants. He
pushed up Sebastian’s shirt to expose the tag on the
waistband of the trousers, and Sebastian felt his dick go
from half-hard to

Oh God, touch me now

when Keith’s

moist breath skimmed across his lower back a half second
before the other plastic strip snapped between Keith’s
teeth.

“That’s not good for your teeth,” Sebastian said, but instead
of a rebuke, it came out sounding like

Please throw me up

against that three-way mirror and fuck my brains out

. At

least, that was what Sebastian thought. Keith was either
immune or he was

really

invested in getting them to dinner

on time.

“You can kiss them and make them better later.” A quick
brush of lips across the shell of his ear, and then Keith was
gone. Sebastian stayed where he was, fully dressed all the
way down to his brand new shoes but feeling completely
naked. He stared at the wide-eyed, flush-cheeked twink in
the mirror for long moments before Adam stepped out of
the cubicle behind him, Sebastian’s clothes folded over his
arm.

He met Sebastian’s eyes in the mirror and arched an
eyebrow.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice broke the spell, and Sebastian
nodded, turning away from the mirrors. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s
go.”

Chapter Fifteen

Four in the morning saw Keith trying to wriggle out of bed
without waking either of the men plastered against him in
their sleep. His bladder had woken him insistently, and the
feeling was enough to force him out of his comfortable little
lovenest. He relieved himself, then realized how parched
his mouth and throat were and padded down to the kitchen
without bothering to put on any clothes. The house was a
comfortable temperature, and the only other occupants
would be less than shocked by his nudity.

He started having second thoughts when he opened the
refrigerator, and the frosty air gusted out over his skin. He
shivered.

“Careful.” Adam’s sleepy voice startled him, and he
jumped. He hadn’t heard anyone coming up behind him.
“You might catch a chill.” Adam’s big, warm hand slid over
Keith’s pelvis, down to tenderly cup his cock and balls. His
other arm went around Keith’s waist.

Keith let out a soft breath and leaned back into Adam’s
chest, letting the refrigerator door fall shut, washing them in

darkness as Adam kissed down the side of his neck.
Adam still smelled like cologne and sweat, the sticky-sweet
smell of bourbon and Coke lingering near his lips from the
club they’d gone to after dinner. Not much for dancing,
although Keith thought he was fantastically good at it, Adam
had sat at the bar, nursing a single drink and watching
Keith and Baz have drunken, fully-clothed sex on the dance
floor.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Nah. Just bathroom, and then I was thirsty.” He laid his
hands over Adam’s arm around his waist. “Not insomnia
this time.”

Keith’s nerves were jangling, but it wasn’t from insomnia; it
was the leftover buzz of incredible sex. They’d left the club
together, Baz draped over Adam and giving Keith
conspiratorial looks from underneath those long eyelashes.
He’d kissed Adam’s ear and told him breathlessly, “

You

should have come out and danced with us

.” A lick up

Adam’s neck and then a nip at his earlobe punctuated his
statement. “

We fit together so well

.”

Adam had laughed, but once they were in the car, he’d
grabbed Baz’s chin and kissed him so hard Keith imagined
he’d heard Baz’s jaw pop. Keith had watched them, feeling
the heaviness of his cock between his legs and the fire of
arousal in his blood.

“Good.” Adam muffled his yawn against Keith’s skin.
“Enjoying your not-Christmas present?” Despite the fact
that they both should have been passed out with Baz
upstairs, Adam kissed the soft spot behind Keith’s ear with
what felt like serious intent, and Keith melted into his hands.

“He was right.” Keith gasped as Adam dragged his mouth
down Keith’s neck and nipped his bare shoulder. “We do fit
together well.”

Adam paused, his fingers flexing around Keith’s dick,
which was beginning to plump out with all the attention even
though he’d come so many times in the last few hours his
balls were sore. Keith tried not to fidget, but when Adam
didn’t immediately continue his explorations, he couldn’t
help himself.

“You don’t think we do?”

Adam sucked thoughtfully on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith
shivered at the hint of teeth. A soft

pop

and the cool brush

of air over the wet skin sent another shudder through him;
then Adam’s lips brushed him as he spoke.

“I… What do you mean by

fit together

?”

Adam’s voice sounded small and uncertain, and Keith tried
to mask his reaction, the way all his muscles went guilty-stiff
as he realized how greedy he was being, how selfish it was

to ask for this to last. This close to Adam, he didn’t stand a
chance of hiding it, so he took a deep breath and put his
cards on the table.

“I want to keep him.” Adam’s grip slackened, and Keith
clutched at both hands to keep him from letting go. “That
came out weird.” He cleared his throat, suddenly very
conscious that he’d never gotten that drink of water. “I
meant… I’d like to talk about the possibility of making it
long-term. I don’t want this to be the last time he’s with us.”

This time when Adam let go, Keith didn’t fight him. Adam
didn’t retreat very far, though, just enough to turn Keith
around to face him. Keith could almost see the wheels
turning in his lover’s head.

“Okay. I can see where this might be something to
consider, but I think you and I need to talk about it first, the
two of us, after Sebastian goes home.”

Keith frowned, but before he could say anything, Adam held
up his hand.

“We need to discuss this alone first. There are a lot of
things to talk about, a lot of details to work out. What we
want, what Sebastian wants, the distance, what needs to
change, what we’re going to do about it being public. You
know we won’t be able to keep it a secret forever. If we
make it long-term, we may not even want to.”

Keith wanted to pout at the delay, but he knew Adam was
right. As usual. And there were other things they needed to
talk about that Adam hadn’t mentioned. How it would affect
their relationship. How Adam felt about it. “But you’re okay
with the idea? It would be something you wouldn’t mind
trying?”

Adam stepped close enough to kiss him. “If it’s something
you think you want, yes, I’m going to seriously consider it.”

That wasn’t what Keith wanted to know. “But you like him?”
Keith knew he was pressing the issue, but he wanted to
make sure Adam wanted it too, that he wasn’t just indulging
Keith. “You like Baz?”

Adam pulled their bodies flush and kissed his ear. “I do,
yes. He’s sweet, and God knows the sex is hot. But I think
we need to enjoy the rest of the weekend without feeling
pressured to make a decision on this right away.”

Keith melted against Adam’s chest, snuggling in closer.
“You’re so smart. Must be why I’ve been sleeping with you
all this time.” Adam gave him a faint smile and a soft kiss,
but Keith could taste his distraction. “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” Adam nuzzled him and then leaned back to study
him. He opened his mouth, sighed, and shook his head.
“Nothing.”

“Yeah, okay.” Keith couldn’t help feeling a little

disappointed. He’d been hoping for something else from
his lover, maybe some indication of excitement about the
possibilities—the same kind of excitement that tingled all
through his body, singing down his nerves in streaks of
silver optimism. He’d wanted to share that feeling, that
bubbling energy. But then again, Adam’s relative level-
headedness was one of the reasons Keith loved and
trusted his partner. He grounded Keith instead of letting him
fly away on his emotions. “I guess we’d better get back
before our pretty little bedwarmer thinks we’ve abandoned
him.”

“Can’t have that.” Adam leaned over and kissed Keith
softly, lingeringly.

Keith felt something inside glow warm and bright, and he
leaned against Adam. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Adam trailed a finger down Keith’s jaw and
across his lower lip. Maybe it was just the heavy shadows,
but Keith thought he looked a little pensive, maybe even
sad.

That look stayed with him as they climbed the stairs, fingers
tangled casually. It niggled at the back of his mind as they
crawled into bed on either side of Baz, who was sleeping
the sleep of the well-fucked, and distracted him across
Baz’s pretty face as they both rained gentle kisses on their
lover’s warm, smooth skin. Then Adam gave him a wolfish

smile and reached across Baz’s body to stroke Keith’s hip,
and Baz woke with a gasp when Adam bit down on his
nipple. Suddenly Keith forgot everything—the soreness in
his balls, the turmoil of indecision, and the shadow he’d
thought he’d seen over Adam’s eyes. At any rate, there was
no shadow there as Baz began to writhe under Adam’s
assault. He must have imagined it.

* * * *

Bright sunlight directly in his eyes finally dragged Keith out
of slumber. Used to being the heavy sleeper in the
household and the last one up in the mornings, he was
surprised when he shifted and found that he wasn’t alone.
Baz was pressed against him, curled into Adam’s much
bigger body. Adam held Baz around his waist, keeping
them pinned together, and Keith felt a sleepy smile tug at
his lips. That was the way Adam held Keith most of the
time.

He honestly expected to feel a little bit jealous at that
revelation, but he didn’t. As long as they both wanted him
too, he thought they were beautiful spooned up together like
that.

Like cake and ice cream.

Exhausted, he let his eyes drift close and could feel himself
slipping back into sleep when his phone beeped. He

cracked one eye open and glared at the piece of plastic
resting on the bedside table. It beeped again. He sighed. It
wouldn’t stop until he checked whatever message had
come in, so he picked up the phone and opened his inbox.

A text from his manager with an attachment. The message
said only,

Got an explanation for me?

He opened the

attachment to find an article from an online gossip site with
pictures of himself and Baz at the dance club, grinding on
each other, and more pictures of Baz leaving the club
draped over Adam and obviously giving him very sexual
signals. The title of the article proved that they were
choosing drama over the most obvious answer:

Are Cruce

and Black Cheating on Each Other…with the Same Guy?

“Jesus Christ,” Keith muttered at his phone. He would have
to think of something to text his manager that was more
suitable than

Does it count as cheating if we’re fucking him

together?

He had a feeling that what his manager really

wanted wasn’t an explanation so much as an agreement to
unconditional damage control. They went through this every
few months when the gossip blogs and tabloids reported
yet another breakup, but this might be worse. Cheating on
your partner was one thing; having threesomes was
somehow less acceptable. What a world. “That is fucked-
up.”

A sharp intake of breath over his shoulder startled him, and
he turned to see a sleepy but wide-eyed Baz staring at

Keith’s phone.

“Hey, kitten.” Keith reached up and stroked Baz’s chin
awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It wasn’t me.” The words left Baz’s mouth on a rush of air,
and Keith paused, confused.

“What wasn’t you?”

“The pictures. I didn’t… It wasn’t me.”

Was the kid sleep-talking, or had he hit his head too hard
on the wall last night when Keith fucked him?

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s you.” Keith pointed to the pretty
boy hanging on Adam on his cell phone screen. “I think I
remember humping your ass on the dance floor about five
minutes before this was taken.”

Baz looked so horrified that for a moment Keith thought
maybe he

did

have amnesia and didn’t remember the kind

of things they’d been doing together. The thought sent a
cold splash of ice-blue panic through his veins.

“No, I mean—I didn’t give them those pictures. I didn’t even
know… Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Suddenly it clicked, and Keith let out a relieved laugh. “It’s
all right. They do this all the time. Well, not

this

. They’ve

never caught us with the same guy before.” He leaned up
and kissed Baz, lingering at his lips. Baz’s response was
tentative, but he kissed Keith back.

When they broke apart, Keith thumbed Baz’s lower lip and
smiled at him. “They’ll just have to get used to it.”

Baz’s eyes went wide, but he smiled back and leaned in for
another kiss. Just when things were starting to get
interesting, Keith’s stomach growled with a sharp reminder
that he hadn’t gotten that midnight snack the night before.
Baz laughed, and Keith grinned sheepishly.

“What do you say to some breakfast, kitten?”

Chapter Sixteen

Keith and Sebastian rolled out of bed, jostling Adam. He
stayed where he was, staring up at the ceiling, listening to
the echo in his head and telling himself not to overreact.

“

They’ll just have to get used to it

.”

He counted to ten, took a deep breath and went on to
twenty, but lost count around seventeen and gave up. It
wasn’t a big deal, he told himself. Keith was impulsive. He
just said things. He probably didn’t even mean it like Adam
had taken it. But he couldn’t help feeling like Keith had

betrayed their agreement to wait, to talk about things
before inviting Sebastian to be their third.

He could barely hear them downstairs, laughing and talking
as they moved things around, presumably fixing breakfast.
Adam sighed and heaved himself out of bed. He stalked to
the bathroom, got into the shower, and turned the taps until
the water was just short of scalding.

He stood there for long moments under the downpour,
letting the pulse of hot water soothe the tension out of his
shoulders and back. Finally he let out a long sigh, rolling his
head to loosen his neck, and reached for the shampoo.
He’d just gotten lathered up when he felt a small hand on
his back, and he jumped.

“Sorry,” Sebastian said contritely from behind him. “I didn’t
—I thought—Is this okay? I can go if—”

“It’s fine.” Adam stepped under the spray to rinse the lather
from his hair before he got soap in his eyes, and when he
could finally look, he saw Sebastian standing at the back of
the luxurious shower, taking up as little space as humanly
possible. “Hey.” Adam tried on a smile, sure he looked
ridiculous, soaking wet with his hair plastered to his face.

It seemed to work, though, as Sebastian uncurled from his
huddled position and took a step toward him. “Hey.”
Sebastian smiled, and it didn’t look ridiculous on him, even

though his hair was already flattened against his skull. It
looked pretty damned adorable.

Adam pushed his own hair back from his face and reached
for the body gel, pouring some into his hand. “Where’s
Keith?” He watched as the gel pooled in his palm, and
when he looked up, Sebastian seemed awkward again.

“He went to meet his manager. Said he wouldn’t be back
for a while.” His glance darted toward the shower door. “I
can…um. If you’d rather wait until he… I mean…”

“Hey.” Adam slid both of his hands around Sebastian’s
hips, pulling him close. His left hand slid on the slickness of
gel, and he began to work up a lather for the fun of it. “I don’t
mind, and neither does Keith. I just didn’t know why you’d
be climbing into the shower with me if he was still here.”

Sebastian looked confused and maybe a little hurt, and
before Adam could ask why, he shook his head. “You mean
you think I would rather have Keith than

you

?”

Adam paused, gripping Sebastian’s hips tighter, his
fingers sliding in the lather. “Everybody would rather have
Keith than me. Except maybe Keith.”

“Like hell!”

Even soaking wet, he looked ferocious as he scowled.
Adam remembered the first time Keith had described

Sebastian—mad as a wet cat—and suddenly understood
Keith’s insistence on calling him kitten. He was tiny and
fierce and absolutely adorable.

“Look, I like Keith, but I didn’t sleep with y’all because of
him. If he had asked me, I would have turned him down.”
Sebastian slid his hands up Adam’s chest and held on to
his shoulders, bringing them closer together, his eyes
intense. “I like you both now, but you were the one who
caught my attention, the one I had a crush on. I like you,
okay?”

He faltered suddenly, but before he could be embarrassed,
Adam pulled him close and kissed him. The kiss was slick
with shower water, and Adam felt like he was drinking
Sebastian in with long, slow draughts.

When they broke apart, Adam had to catch his breath, but
his heart thundered at the look on Sebastian’s face. He
rubbed his thumb over Sebastian’s lower lip, then up to one
of his devastating cheekbones. He opened his mouth to
say something, but all he could think of was

Thank you

, so

he just lowered his head and kissed Sebastian again.

As their tongues moved together, Adam collected the lather
he’d been building on Sebastian’s hip and began
spreading it over his body with long, sweeping strokes.
Sebastian arched into him and moaned as he skimmed
both hands up his back and then down to his butt. Adam

broke away and placed openmouthed kisses down his
neck to his shoulder, where he stayed and sucked on
Sebastian’s collarbone for a moment.

“I want… Oh God, Adam, I want…”

Adam licked back up the path he’d just kissed and bit down
gently on Sebastian’s earlobe. “What do you want, baby?”
He squeezed the firm cheeks in his hands, and Sebastian’s
breath hitched.

“I don’t… You. I want you.”

Adam shivered and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s cheek.
“All right, let’s get rinsed off and take this somewhere more
comfortable.”

THEY DRIED OFF, but impatiently, scrubbing haphazardly
with terrycloth around each other’s hands as they kept
kissing. Every time Adam let Sebastian up for air, the kid
refused to take advantage of it, lunging for him, fingers
sliding across slick patches of skin. They were both
distinctly damp as they fell to the bed, sheets clinging to
them as they rolled.

Sebastian’s skin was warm and fragrant, and Adam pinned
him to the mattress, holding him down and relishing the way
his small body squirmed under Adam’s larger one. Adam

insinuated himself between Sebastian’s thighs and
swiveled his hips as he nipped under Sebastian’s jaw.

Sebastian arched sharply, but his gasp and wince spoke
more of pain than pleasure, and Adam stopped moving.

“Sore?” He drew his hand down Sebastian’s side, soothing
and gentle.

Sebastian shook his head and reached for Adam,
threading his fingers through wet hair. “I’m fine.”

Adam snorted and kissed him softly, then rolled away. “It’s
not Thanksgiving.” He took Sebastian’s hand, skimming a
light touch over his knuckles. “We don’t have to fit it all in at
once. We have time.”

Sebastian giggled, turning his hand over so that Adam’s
fingertips tickled his palm. “Fit it in?”

Adam rolled his eyes, but he grinned too and laced their
fingers together. “I didn’t mean that

literally

, but yes, that

too.”

Sebastian gave him a slow, lazy smile and peered at him
through long lashes. “Is it okay if I kiss you again, though?”

Despite what he’d said about having plenty of time, the shy,
seductive request sparked a slow burn in Adam’s stomach,
and he leaned in close. He paused, waiting for Sebastian

to close the distance. Their lips brushed chastely at first;
then Sebastian deepened the kiss. Their tongues brushed
lazily together, and Sebastian sighed, the sound spreading
through Adam’s body like a warm breeze.

He slid his hand across Sebastian’s stomach, fingers
curling possessively over the smooth swell of hip.
Sebastian turned in to his embrace, their bodies fitting
together as if they’d been made for it.

They broke the kiss half a dozen times only to come back
together each time until they stopped, lips hovering close,
panting into each other’s mouths.

“You’re beautiful.” Sebastian’s breath skimmed Adam’s
lips, sending a shiver down his spine. Adam traced his
thumb across the small of Sebastian’s back in retaliation,
smiling when the smaller man shuddered against him.

“You’re one to talk.” He let his tongue trace the soft edge of
Sebastian’s upper lip, tasting the salt there. “You’re so
fucking pretty. Can’t get you out of my head.” He took a
moment to steal a kiss, the hand on Sebastian’s back
pulling him closer, pressing their hips together. “You know,
you’re the only person we’ve had sex with more than once.”

Sebastian jumped like someone had shocked him, and his
eyes went big and round.

“Th-the only one?”

Adam nodded and sealed their mouths together, licking
deep, and rubbed his dick against Sebastian’s thigh. As
much as he tried to shut off his brain, and as much as his
body’s response was trying to help with that, his thoughts
still shook with uncertainty.

Last night, he’d thought Keith wanted Sebastian

instead of

Adam. This morning, it had sounded more like the long-
term arrangement he’d been talking about was the three of
them, and wow, would that ever change the dynamic. It was
one thing to be a swinger couple with an occasional third; it
would be completely different to bring Sebastian in as an
equal partner. As much as he liked Sebastian, as much as
Sebastian filled an emotional spot Adam hadn’t known was
empty, he didn’t know if he wanted to take that risk yet.

Sebastian writhed and groaned under Adam’s kiss, and he
thought about what he’d confessed to the kid. It was
possible that telling Sebastian how much of an exception
he was wasn’t doing him any favors. Maybe Adam was
doing exactly what he’d told Keith they shouldn’t do and
was putting pressure on him.

The kiss gentled, but every time Adam tried to pull away, he
couldn’t help dipping in again for more. When they finally
parted, Adam stared at the flushed, ravished man beneath
him and felt his heart stutter with a realization. Not only was
Sebastian the only third they’d invited back for more, he

was the only person besides Keith that Adam had ever
spent so much time just kissing.

“Shit,” he murmured, and Sebastian gave him a blinding
smile.

“

Get used to it

,” indeed. His life was about to get a hell of a

lot more complicated.

* * * *

Adam should have known that Keith’s manager wasn’t the
only one who would flip out over the pictures of them with
Sebastian. The phone rang just when Adam had taken a
huge bite out of an apple, trying to dampen the appetite
he’d worked up with Sebastian. He checked the caller ID
and frowned, then swallowed and answered.

“Hey, Karen. What’s up?”

“Funny thing, Ad, I was about to ask you the same
question.” He could almost hear the look she was surely
giving him. “I’m used to seeing your beau in the virtual
papers, but lo and behold, there’s my client’s face on the
front page of all the gossip sites.”

Adam sighed, deliberately loud, but Karen didn’t so much
as pause.

“And I have to say, that is a

very

pretty boy you have

hanging off you. I’m surprised no one’s asking you how old
he is.”

“Old enough they let him into the club and served him
alcohol,” Adam snapped. He’d caught a fair bit of abuse for
his age when he and Keith had started dating, though
mostly playful jabs about how he’d better enjoy it while he
could before Keith left him for someone younger and better
looking. Sebastian was even younger than Keith, and
despite his reassurance that morning that he found Adam
attractive, Adam knew he couldn’t count on the novelty of a
celebrity crush to hold the kid’s attention for long.

“Oh, touchy subject. I forgot.” The smirk in Karen’s voice
said she hadn’t forgotten at all. “Look, I know you and Keith
have something of an unconventional relationship going on,
so what I need to know is how you want to spin this.”

Adam crunched into the apple again and chewed as he
thought. Karen waited, and he almost wished she’d make
some suggestions. “Well,” he said after he swallowed, “I
think Keith is in a meeting with his manager right now to
decide how they want to handle it, so I guess we can take
our cue from them.”

The sound Karen made wasn’t encouraging. “Is he still with
Grissom? Cause I gotta tell you, I do not like that man.”

Adam smiled. “You tell me that every chance you get,
Karen.”

“I know, but it deserves repeating. Okay, listen.

Boyfriends

is not a conservative show. It makes a lot of its image on
unconventional sexuality and the implication that many of its
characters are kinky bastards. People make that
association about its actors as well.”

Karen wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.
Adam’s character Jamie had once sustained a three-
episode subplot about his taste for sexual roleplay,
complete with ridiculously elaborate costumes and
questionable props. “Your point?”

“My

point

, you ass, is that people don’t expect you to be

chaste or even terribly vanilla, but whether they buy this will
depend on how we sell it to them.”

Adam sighed. “All things considered, I’d rather

not

have to

sell them my personal life.” Karen made a noise, but he
continued right over her. “I know, I know. Cost of celebrity
and all that jazz. It’s just that we don’t

know

where this is

going. I’d rather tell everyone the truth, but I don’t know what
that is yet.”

“Try telling me the situation first, and let’s see how that goes
over.”

Adam frowned and checked over his shoulder for any sign
of Sebastian. Fuck, this was turning into a mess. “Well, you
know Keith and I have an open relationship, but up until
now, we’ve only had casual, one-time partners.” He
hesitated, trying to find the best way to explain Sebastian.

“Until now?” Karen ventured. “Does that mean this”—she
paused as if she were trying to remember something
—“Sebastian Keane is serious?”

A chill of fear slid into Adam’s gut. “How do you know his
name?”

“Oh,

honey

.” There was no mistaking the pity in her voice.

“It’s all over the Internet. I’m guessing that’s not a good
thing.”

“Shit.” Adam rubbed his forehead, trying to ward off what
was threatening to be a spectacular headache. “I don’t
know. He…he has his own life. I never meant for him to get
so tangled up in this.”

“So he’s

not

serious?”

“I don’t know! We’re considering things. I mean,

normal

relationships are allowed to be uncertain and figure out
where they’re going, aren’t they?”

“Normal as in…?”

Adam snorted. “As in noncelebrity, you brat.” Of course, the
rest of the world probably would have thought the multiple
same-sex partners bit was more abnormal than celebrity
relationships, but that showed what they knew.

He could almost hear her shrug. “I wouldn’t know.”

He heard the front door open and turned, peering down the
hallway to see Keith. He couldn’t read his lover’s body
language, not even enough to get a hint of how the meeting
with Grissom had gone.

“Hey, Karen, Keith just got home. Let me go talk to him, and
I’ll call you back when we know what we’re doing.”

“All right. But don’t wait too long—time is power. The longer
you wait, the more the story’s going to tell itself without your
input.”

Adam winced. “Right. Thanks.”

Chapter Seventeen

Lips swollen and hot from Adam’s kisses—and wasn’t that
thought enough to make him dizzy—Sebastian finally
remembered he had never told Jason he’d made it to Los
Angeles safe and sound. Come to think of it, he was
surprised Jason hadn’t called him. If it were anyone else,

Sebastian might have thought they were afraid to interrupt
all the sex they knew he’d be having, but this was his
roommate. Subtlety and discretion were not among
Jason’s list of virtues.

When he finally found his phone, it became obvious why
Jason seemed to have suddenly developed a severe case
of tact—the battery was dead. Of course. The charger was
in his luggage, which was in the guest bedroom, which he
hadn’t slept in since arriving. Sure, he’d gone and ferreted
out clothes on the rare occasion he’d needed something of
his own, but he hadn’t

unpacked

. Time to fix that.

He found the charger first and plugged it in, then started
unpacking his clothes. He wondered why he was bothering,
since he was only going to be there a few more days and
probably wouldn’t be spending much of that time in the
guest room, but he liked the tiny thrill it gave him, as if he
were sneakily moving in.

“

They’ll just have to get used to it

.”

What on earth had Keith meant? There were any number of
possible ways to take that statement, all of which were risky
assumptions to make. Had he meant the public would have
to get used to Sebastian specifically, or simply to the idea
of Keith and Adam having a third?

“

You’re the only person we’ve had sex with more than

once

.”

A warm glow fluttered in his rib cage, beneath his heart. No
matter what was going on, they did really like him—or at
least, they

really

liked sex with him, and that was almost as

good.

With half his clothes in the dresser and the other half still in
his suitcase, he paused to check his phone. It had enough
charge that he should be able to turn it on without it dying
immediately, so he sat down and held the Power button.

He expected to have several unread messages from
Jason, most of them obnoxious and intrusive, and probably
more than half asking for dick pictures—of Adam and
Keith, anyway. Sebastian doubted Jason had any real
interest in seeing

his

dick.

He wasn’t expecting to watch his unread messages count
keep climbing past ten…fifteen…twenty… When it hit thirty-
five, his eyes widened. He couldn’t open any until they were
all in, since the phone would just stall and freeze, but how
many more could there possibly be?

When the deluge finally stopped, there were fifty-six text
messages, thirteen voice-mail messages, and twenty-
seven missed calls, and Sebastian was almost scared to
look at them. Had something terrible happened in the two
days he hadn’t checked his phone?

Jason was, unsurprisingly, his most recent message—and
twenty-three of the total count—but a quick glance told him
that people he hadn’t talked to in ages, some of them
whose numbers he didn’t recognize, had seen fit to add to
the barrage.

He opened Jason’s first, hoping it would at least explain the
situation before he waded into the rest of it. He read each
succeeding message with a sinking feeling, and by the
time he’d finished all of them, he was shaking, chilled, and
sick to his stomach.

Several of the texts were congratulatory in nature. Several
more were lewd, suggesting acts they’d like to do to him,
many of which sounded physically impossible. One was a
picture of a dick from a number he didn’t recognize, no
message attached. There were multiple voice-mail
messages from his mother asking if he was all right, if he
needed money, if he was in any kind of

trouble

, and one

from his grandfather telling him not to bother coming to the
reunion in the summer because it was only for family.

All of this was explained by Jason’s texts, the tone shifting
from teasing to worried and culminating with,

Dude, we

recognized you right away. Everyone from school is
talking about it. You’re freaking famous. Are you okay?

The pictures he’d seen on Keith’s phone that morning
hadn’t seemed quite so bad when his name hadn’t been

attached, when his family and friends hadn’t seen them and
recognized him. When apparently the entire student body at
his university—or at least the ones Jason hung out with over
winter break, which was probably most of them—didn’t
know yet that he was fucking two men. At the same time.
Together.

The icing on the cake, though, was the voice mail from his
internship. Expressing concern for their public image, they
had regretfully withdrawn their offer and wished him
success in all his future endeavors.

He wanted to throw up.

He supposed that if he’d stopped to think about it, he might
have realized that his choices would have repercussions.
He might have gotten away with any one variable in the
equation—a male partner, two partners,

or

a celebrity

partner—but not all three. Not that there was anything he
could do about it now. The cat was out of the bag. And if it
were just him, he’d say maybe that was a good thing, but
how would it affect Keith and Adam? And were they serious
about saying people would have to “

get used to it

”?

That wasn’t such a bad feeling. It would still hurt that so
many people instantly reduced him to his sex life, but it
might be okay as long as he still had some support. Keith.
Adam. Jason. Maybe his mother. Probably not his father—
she hadn’t mentioned him other than to say “

Your father

and I are worried about you

,” and that could mean any one

of a hundred things.

He took a moment to send texts to Jason and his mother to
let them know he was all right. No one else really needed to
know, especially not when he was so distracted he could
barely construct a simple sentence.

Voices from downstairs caught his attention, and he stared
uncertainly at the doorway. He couldn’t tell if Adam and
Keith were fighting or just talking. He assumed they would
already know about this. Keith had seen those pictures this
morning, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t make so much of a
difference that the press knew his name now.

Or maybe it would. Maybe he should stay where he was
and let them work it out without him.

The choice was taken out of his hands when Adam
appeared at the doorway, looking very concerned, tapping
his phone against his thigh nervously.

“Hey, there you are.” Adam’s smile was distracted, not at all
like his heated, tender gaze while they’d been rolling
around on the bed, kissing each other to within an inch of
their lives. He glanced at Sebastian’s phone and seemed
to take in his shell-shocked appearance, and his smile
turned more sympathetic. “I guess you heard, huh?”

Sebastian held up his phone, his mouth twisting wryly.

“From everyone I know and a few people I don’t.”

Keith appeared and slipped past Adam, coming into the
room and sitting beside Sebastian on the bed. “I’m sorry,
kitten. We should’ve known something like this would
happen, but this is kind of new territory for us.” He slipped
his arm around Sebastian’s shoulders and kissed the side
of his head. “Are you okay?”

Sebastian laughed drily. “Yeah. My best friend and my mom
are still speaking to me, even if my grandfather and my
internship aren’t.”

Keith squeezed him tighter, and Adam straightened from
where he’d been leaning against the door frame. “Your
internship?”

“They left a message on my phone that they’re withdrawing
their offer. They said they aren’t sure I’m a good match for
their ‘image.’” He reached up and flicked his long blond
bangs out of his eyes. “Just as well. They probably would’ve
made me cut my hair.”

Keith kissed his temple again, and Adam finally came into
the room, squatting and resting his arms on Sebastian’s
knees. It put them almost at eye level. “I’m really sorry. Keith
and I just got out of meetings with our agents, and they want
us to issue a statement about this.” He rubbed up and down
Sebastian’s thighs, and the rasp of denim under his hands

was comforting. “We’re going to tell them that you’re just a
friend, that we’re not sleeping with you, and that the
salesman at Nordstrom was mistaken or lying when he said
we had sex in the dressing room.”

Sebastian’s head snapped up. “We

didn’t

have sex in the

dressing room.”

“Exactly.” Adam kissed his hand. “So it will all be over
shortly, and after your visit, you can go home to your normal
life and never have to deal with this again.”

Sebastian froze. He barely noticed Adam kissing his
stomach and only turned in to Keith’s kiss at the last
moment. It still landed to the side of his mouth, sloppy and
eager, and he fought down his buzzing thoughts long
enough to get the angle right and let Keith kiss him like he
wanted to.

Adam seemed to notice his discomfort first and sat back,
hands rasping over Sebastian’s thighs as they had earlier.
“We’ll give you some time. Come down when you’re done
and we’ll have dinner. At home, this time.”

He linked hands with Keith and stood, pulling his lover from
the bed, though Keith managed to plant one last kiss on the
tip of Sebastian’s nose.

“We’ll see you at dinner, kitten,” Keith promised. Sebastian
was still sitting there, staring, when the door closed softly

behind them.

ALL THROUGH DINNER, he couldn’t stop thinking. He
barely tasted the delicious food one of Keith’s assistants
had brought by, and he knew his participation in
conversation was stilted at best. He had known, in the
logical part of his mind, that this thing wouldn’t last. He’d
known he was only a fun bit on the side for them. He’d
already given himself that pep talk.

It was just that he’d let their tenderness convince him
otherwise—all the talk about how he was their only repeat,
about how other people would have to get used to seeing
him with them. He’d let himself believe that meant more
than it did. He knew better now. Adam had set him straight.

“

You can go home to your normal life and never have to

deal with this again

.”

Of course, now that he knew this was going to be the last
chance he got, that clarified a few things for him. Some
possibilities he’d been toying with since the first time they’d
slept together in Charlotte were either going to happen now
or not at all, and he didn’t like the “not at all” option.

“I want you both.”

The words burst out of him so suddenly that Keith froze

midsentence, Adam stopped midchew, and they both
swiveled to look at him, surprised and maybe a little
concerned. He took a deep breath and continued.

“At the same time. Together. Before I go home.”

Keith gave him a confused look. “Haven’t we been doing
that?”

Sebastian could feel himself blush. His ears were
practically on fire. “No, not like… I want you both. I-inside
me. At the same time.”

Keith blinked, and Adam choked as he tried to swallow his
mouthful of food. A sip of water and some throat-clearings
later, Adam rasped, “Sweetie, I’m not sure—”

But Sebastian had his mind made up. If he was going to go
back to his normal life after this, if he wasn’t going to get
another chance, then he was damn well going to have
everything he wanted. It was Thanksgiving, Christmas,

and

his birthday all rolled into one. Pain would fade. Injuries
would heal. But he wanted this one thing to have forever.

“I can take it. I want to.” He pleaded with Adam with his
eyes and watched the other man visibly struggle. Keith was
sitting back, looking between them. “Please.” His face was
so hot now it had to be bright red. “I practiced. I…I

want

this.”

Adam set his glass down very deliberately and studied first
Sebastian, then Keith. “These things take preparation.
Time. I don’t know if we have enough time before you go
home.”

Sebastian’s stomach clenched. They definitely wouldn’t
have enough time

after

he went home! He took a deep

breath, but before he could attempt to convince Adam to
give it a try, Keith spoke up.

“Maybe if we take it slow.” He glanced from Adam to
Sebastian and back again. “And if he promises to tell us if
it hurts, at which point we’ll stop.”

Adam still didn’t look convinced, but Sebastian seized the
opportunity. “Yes! If it hurts too much, I’ll tell you to stop, and
we won’t try it again.”

Adam’s eyes on his were suddenly fierce. “You promise?”
When Sebastian nodded, he pointed at him and
demanded, “Say it. Say you promise.”

Everything about the man said he wasn’t taking this lightly,
and Sebastian nodded slowly again, saying very
deliberately, “I promise to tell you if it’s too much.”

Adam stared hard at him for several moments before he
finally picked up his fork again and took another bite of
chicken cacciatore. Sebastian finally managed to take a

bite of his instead of pushing it around on his plate, but as
he did, a new worry occupied his attention. Adam’s hand
had been shaking.

* * * *

Sebastian couldn’t decide whether the knots in his stomach
were anticipation or nervousness. Probably a whole lot of
both. Keith had helped him prepare, clean, and stretch
while Adam got the bedroom ready, and he reminded
himself he could stop the whole thing with a word at any
time. Adam and Keith would both be listening for it.

As if he could sense Sebastian’s tension—and he probably
could through the tightly coiled muscles under his hands—
Keith dropped a kiss on the back of his neck.

“We’ll take good care of you, kitten,” Keith murmured
against the shell of his ear.

He reached back to grab Keith’s head, turning so that
Keith’s lips brushed his cheek, arching his neck to get a
kiss. Keith obliged him, arms slipping down and around his
waist, pulling him back against a warm wall of skin and
muscle. Soft lips found his mouth, and the kiss was gentler
than Sebastian had expected, full of reassurance and
comfort and more tenderness than he’d known Keith was
capable of.

He sensed another body in front of him bare moments
before Adam pressed against him, arms going around him
and Keith both. Sebastian broke away from Keith’s mouth
to press a kiss to Adam’s throat, up over his chin and lips.
Then Adam kissed Keith and glanced toward the bed.

“Ready?”

Sebastian took a deep breath and nodded, and Keith
rubbed his upper arms soothingly as they moved as a unit
to the mattress. Adam gave him a reassuring smile and lay
back on the bed, spreading out, all long limbs and tousled
blond hair, faint freckles scattered across his pale skin.
Worry fled, and he crawled up over Adam, crouching low
enough to kiss him. Adam stroked fingertips down his
spine, and Sebastian shivered at the ticklish sensation.

“Turn over,” Adam murmured at his ear, dragging his
fingers back up the path they’d just taken to cup his nape.

It was a little awkward, but Sebastian obeyed. As he settled
onto his back with Adam’s arms around his chest, Keith
met his eyes and grinned. Without being told, Sebastian
opened his legs, planting his heels on the mattress on
either side of Adam’s thighs. Adam stroked his stomach,
and Keith slipped two fingers into him. After their careful
stretching and generous applications of lube, Sebastian
took the fingers easily. That was good—there was a lot

more to go. He didn’t want to be feeling it already.

Keith dropped a kiss on Sebastian’s dick while he stroked
Adam to full hardness and rolled a condom onto him. More
lube—no such thing as too much, not in this situation—and
then Keith was pressing the tip of Adam’s erection into
Sebastian’s hole. Sebastian took a deep breath and
relaxed, and Adam kissed the side of his neck. Taking
Adam was easier now than it had been the first time.
Sebastian let out his breath in a sigh at the familiar slide.

Adam rolled his hips slowly, pushing himself deeper in
small, circular movements that pressed against all the right
places. They couldn’t get very deep in this position without
some serious effort, but that wasn’t the point. When Keith’s
finger slid in beside Adam’s dick, Adam and Sebastian
both gasped. Adam stilled, and Keith added a second
finger, using them to rub the straining edges of Sebastian’s
hole with soothing strokes.

Keith spread his fingers, stretching Sebastian more, and
shivers worked their way through Sebastian’s muscles. He
felt answering shudders in Adam and smiled around a
gasp. Keith took his time, working slowly, and Sebastian
felt all his residual tension bleed out until he was practically
a puddle on Adam’s chest, nearly purring as his lovers’
hands stroked him inside and out.

Despite his languid arousal, he might have drowsed, but

Keith removed his fingers—and then he felt the most
intense pressure of his life as Keith finally pushed in.

Chapter Eighteen

Even though he felt like he’d been going slow for hours,
Keith still took his time as he pressed his cock into Baz. It
was a tight fit, Baz’s walls squeezing him hard against
Adam’s cock, and it nearly took his breath away. Even
through the condoms they both wore, Keith could feel the
ridge of Adam’s cockhead catch on his own. Pleasure
flared, deep and red, and he stopped moving altogether to
keep himself from thrusting too sharply.

He braced himself with hands on Baz’s hips, panting for air,
and dragged his gaze up the two men in front of him. Baz’s
smaller body sprawled over Adam’s, legs splayed wide, a
dark flush working its way down over his throat and chest.
Adam was clutching him—cradling him, really, both of his
long arms locked across Baz’s chest and stomach. Their
faces, flushed and sweaty, pressed cheek to cheek, were
beautiful, and Keith felt his already erratic pulse stutter
hard.

Adam watched him through hazy eyes, and when Keith
reached down to stroke Baz’s dick, Adam peeled his hand
off Baz’s sweaty stomach to join him. Their fingers bumped

and linked, pulling together, and Baz groaned, arching and
pushing himself down farther on their cocks. Keith lost his
breath in a rush, Adam let out a sound like he was dying,
and Baz’s voice hitched on what sounded like a sob.

“You okay?” Adam rasped, as hoarse as Keith had ever
heard him. He stroked Baz’s chest, and the younger man
nodded.

“Fine.” Baz’s voice was thin and reedy, but he seemed all
right.

Keith’s dick throbbed, and he couldn’t stop the little
reflexive buck of his hips that made all three of them groan.
Baz nodded again and licked his lips.

“K-keep…keep going.”

Keith began moving steadily, reining himself in as best he
could. How Adam was managing to keep from pounding up
into Baz’s body, Keith had no idea. It was all Keith could do
to keep his thrusts smooth and shallow instead of rutting
into the vise grip like a mindless animal. Feeling Adam’s
dick slip and slide against his inside Baz’s body was
eating all his self control. When Adam met his eyes over
Baz’s shoulder at the same moment their cockheads slid
past each other, all the best colors in the world exploded in
his chest, like fireworks sparkling through him. Suddenly he
couldn’t breathe, caught in a whirl of heat and pressure and

the knowledge that, after all the sex games he and Adam
had ever played, this one had just stopped being a game.

At some point between October and now, the young man
writhing between them, speared on their cocks, had
become a piece he hadn’t known they were missing.

And when Baz opened his eyes and stared straight at him,
Keith shattered.

* * * *

The irony of the timing wasn’t lost on Keith. A mere hour
after they’d allowed their agents to disseminate the story
that Baz was “just a good friend,” Keith was surer than ever
that he was in love…or at least had a good head start on
getting there.

He knew he was full of endorphins—he still felt the soft-
white glow of his powerful orgasm lingering in his bones—
and that wasn’t a great time to be making decisions, but he
also knew he’d really already made that decision. He’d told
Adam earlier he didn’t want this to be their last time with
Baz, but now he was starting to see that he wanted to
change their whole structure. He didn’t want to be a couple
who sometimes played with a third, even if that third was
always Baz.

He wanted to be all of them, together, in one relationship.
Equals. And boy, did he know that was a lot to ask.

Both his lovers slept beside him, exhaustion written in the
lines of their bodies, contentment in their faces. Keith was
just as tired, but he couldn’t sleep, too full of a rainbow of
emotions that bounced around inside him like his rib cage
was made of prisms and mirrors. He felt as full of rightness
as he had the day after he’d met Adam, the day he’d woken
up in Adam’s apartment, sharing a mattress on the floor,
sheets tangled around them, covered in lovebites and
bruises.

He was sorry they’d had to send out the press release they
had. He would like to have made an announcement that
these were his partners, plural, and nobody was cheating
on anybody. But it wasn’t time for that yet. Nobody but Keith
was even on that page, as usual, and he’d have to keep his
feelings to himself for a little longer if he could. Two more
days until Baz went home, and then he could at least talk to
Adam. They could figure things out.

And hopefully it wouldn’t all go to hell in a handbasket in the
meantime.

* * * *

The next day, by unspoken agreement, they all avoided the

outside world, going so far as to silence their cell phones.
Keith remembered with amusement that this very
phenomenon was exactly why he and Adam were such
homebodies. Adam liked things quiet, and Keith got all his
extraversion out on tour, ready to take advantage of his
downtime when he got home. Plus, the less they went out,
the less chance they had of ending up in the tabloids and
getting caught up in exactly what they were going through
now.

Sex was off the menu too, since Baz was sorer than he
thought he’d be, though he maintained he didn’t regret it for
a moment. He insisted Adam and Keith were welcome to
have sex that didn’t involve him, or at least didn’t involve his
ass, but even though Keith’s nerves were

still

buzzing with

the aftereffects of their last encounter, he was too scattered
to focus on sex, even with Adam. Adam didn’t push him
either.

Instead they all wore the most comfortable clothes they
could find, curled up together on the huge couch in the
entertainment room, and watched movies on the big
flatscreen TV, practically a miniature cinema. Baz
mischievously suggested watching old episodes of

Boyfriends

, which, of course, Adam had, as the DVDs had

been sent to him by the production company. Even if they
hadn’t been, Keith would have bought them. Adam was iffy
about it, but in the end, they watched all of Season One and
half of Season Two while they demolished two whole pizzas

and a two-liter of soda.

During the Season One finale, Baz swallowed his bite of
meat lovers’ pizza (ordered with much snickering and
rolling of eyes) and pointed at the screen with the triangular
slice. “That Wesley Scotts guy is an ass. I still don’t like him.
He’s a dick to Jamie.”

Keith snorted, and on Baz’s other side, Adam chuckled.
“What, you don’t think Jamie deserves it?”

“Hell no!” Baz seemed completely unaware of—or at least
unconcerned with—Keith’s sudden fit of cough-covered
giggles, wound up as he was. “Look, so Jamie outed him.
But he didn’t know Wesley wasn’t out yet. I mean, as far as
he knew, he was doing his best friend a favor. ‘Hey, this
douchebag you’re dating blew me in the club last night.
Thought you should know.’”

Adam grinned wolfishly. “You think he didn’t know?” Keith
watched Adam’s big hand land on Baz’s thigh, squeezing
gently. “I mean, he’s Maria’s best friend. He would know if
she knows her boyfriend’s fucking dudes on the side or not.
Maybe he was jealous of his best friend not paying
attention to him anymore now that she’s got a new
boyfriend. Or maybe he was getting back at Wesley for
dumping him and then coming back for ex-sex.”

Keith knew Adam was playing devil’s advocate just to bait

Baz. Not only had the Jamie/Wesley storyline not been his
favorite, Adam hated Cameron Bryce, the actor who played
Wesley, and had complained vociferously the day he got
home from filming one of their makeout scenes. It was so
unlike him that Keith often wondered if maybe Cameron
had propositioned Adam and was a pain about taking no
for an answer. Adam didn’t sleep with coworkers, and
Cameron wouldn’t have been the first to try to convince him
otherwise. But Adam never talked about it, and Keith didn’t
find it important enough to ask.

Baz frowned. “But I

like

Jamie.”

Adam laughed and kissed his temple. “He’s still kind of a
jerk. But you’re right, Wes is an ass.”

They had ice cream for dessert, and when Baz fell asleep
between them on the couch, clearly exhausted no matter
how much he protested, Keith took the dishes to the kitchen
while Adam carried their lover up to bed. He hesitated by
the guest room, clearly conflicted about where Baz might
like to sleep, and Keith found him standing there, looking
indecisive.

“You could always wake him up to ask him,” Keith
murmured, hand low on Adam’s back in support. “But I vote
for our bed. With us.”

Adam smiled and leaned over awkwardly to kiss him. Baz

stirred in his arms, murmuring sleepily, but didn’t wake.
Keith’s heart thudded, feeling the swirl of colors that wanted
to be let out, but he choked them back, biting down on the
words he wanted to say. Adam wanted to wait, to talk about
things, and Keith owed him that, even though the colors
dimmed when he shoved them down.

They curled up in bed together, Baz between them in an
unspoken agreement to make him feel as included as
possible. Keith imagined it wouldn’t be very warm and fuzzy
to wake up on the edge of the bed while your lovers
cuddled on the other side like the established couple they
were.

Adam fell asleep quickly, lulled into drowsiness by their
dinner and dessert, but Keith felt like someone had
uncaged a whole hive of bees under his skin. Sleep was
not in the cards. He fidgeted on his side of the bed, not
wanting to get up for fear of waking the other two and
knowing it would worry Adam to find him out of bed.

But the expensive, top-of-the-line mattress felt as lumpy as
a bag of potatoes, and he finally had to give up. He crept
out from under the covers and slipped on a pair of soft
lounge pants. His throat felt dry, and he longed for a swig of
whiskey, but he hadn’t drunk since the time Adam had left
him over it, and he wasn’t about to start now, no matter how
good a nightcap sounded.

Instead he made a detour to the kitchen and dug in the
back of the junk drawer for his secret stash of cigarettes.
He almost never smoked them—not only did Adam dislike
the taste in his mouth, Keith couldn’t stand the lingering
smell on himself—but he needed something for his nerves,
and it was either going to be whiskey, sex, or cigarettes.
He wasn’t touching the first and his options for the second
were currently asleep and sore and probably sexed-out for
a while, so that left this pack of old, probably stale
menthols.

He palmed one of the sticks and a lighter and let himself
out into the backyard. It had stopped raining, and the grass
was wet under his bare feet, the night air chilly and moist.
He took a deep breath before he lit the cigarette. The first
drag was a rush of bitter, stale smoke—obviously far past
its prime—but the second was a little better. By the third,
tendrils of cool, misty-gray calm were beginning to thread
through him.

The advantage to not smoking often was that it didn’t take
much to give him a buzz, and he sucked strongly on the
filter, reveling in the light-headed sensation that followed his
exhale. He could still feel the tangle of emotions and the
hum of the bees under his skin, but everything was
shadowed, muted. He chased an exhale with a lick of his
lips, picking up the lingering hint of mint, and felt another
surge of desire for a whiskey chaser.

That worried him, and he frowned, nervously flicking the ash
off the end of the cigarette. He didn’t have any whiskey in
the house, which made it a little easier, but it wouldn’t be
hard at all to get some. He had

people

. He could call

someone, even now, past midnight, who would bring him
whiskey.

Who would probably tell Adam.

Adam, who, even if Keith’s smugglers kept his secrets,
would find out somehow and would be disappointed. Would
worry.

With a sigh, he took a long, deep drag on the cigarette,
holding the smoke inside for as long as he could before he
let it drift out of his mouth. He ground out the butt in the dirt,
then took it inside to throw it away. Tossing it in the yard
would probably bring the house down around his ears, but
leaving it in the trashcan would make the kitchen smell
terrible, like wet ashes, so his only real option was to take
out the garbage. At one in the morning.

He glanced down at his bare feet, his pajama bottoms, his
bare chest, and wondered if he should put more clothes on.
There was always the chance that an ambitious paparazzo
was waiting outside in the bushes—or in the garbage can
—but at this hour, it was a slim one. Plus, maybe the red
herring they’d thrown to the media would buy them a brief
reprieve.

And then he opened the front door to the wailing of an
alarm and the bright pop of a camera flash, and without a
single drop of guilt, he wished he’d had a bottle of whiskey
after all.

Chapter Nineteen

Possibly the best thing about Keith accidentally setting off
the alarm by opening the front door without entering the
code was that it meant the police arrived quickly enough to
keep Keith from beating the paparazzo to a pulp with his
own camera and a garbage bag.

The red and blue lights washed over the yard and house,
sirens off in deference to the time of night in a high-end
neighborhood, making the scene in front of Adam look like
something out of a cops-and-robbers show. Keith was
straddling a man in the yard, long, eerie shadows jumping
from their forms and from the black lump of the trash bag
beside them. He had to wonder what the hell Keith had
been doing taking out the trash at one in the morning.

Sebastian stumbled to the doorway next to him, rubbing the
sleep from his eyes, looking small and pale and young in
only a pair of boxers. Adam saw the young man sway
toward him and then straighten, as if he’d been about to
lean into him and then thought better of it. Adam’s skin

ached with the loss of potential touch, but it was for the
best. Too many witnesses.

One of whom was being interrogated rather roughly on the
front lawn.

“What the

fuck

are you doing?” Keith shouted as two of the

officers attempted to move him away from the prone
photographer. The man stumbled to his feet, one hand
cupping his nose in a way that made Adam think Keith had
probably taken a swing at it.

“My camera,” the photographer said, pointing to something
Keith held in his left hand. “I need—He deleted—Give me
my camera!”

“Not until you answer my fucking question!” Keith shouted
back, keeping the camera away from the officer who
reached for it. “What were you doing in my yard?”

“Calm down, dude. Some guy told me there was a scoop,
that’s all.”

“What guy?” Keith demanded, finally losing the camera to a
police officer who confiscated it, much to the
photographer’s dismay. “What

scoop

?”

One of the officers took Keith’s arm and tried to encourage
him to move back toward the house. “Sir, if you’ll just—”

“

What guy?

” Keith shouted, struggling against the officer’s

hold, and Adam finally stepped out of the doorway and into
the yard, putting his arm around Keith to do what the officer
couldn’t. Keith didn’t fight Adam, but he didn’t take his
attention off the photographer either.

“He knows him,” the photographer said, pointing to Adam.
“In a TV show with him. Said the press release was a lie,
said you two really are fucking your little buddy. Gave me
your address.”

“Are you fucking

kidding

me?” Keith’s disbelief echoed

Adam’s thoughts so perfectly that for a moment he wasn’t
sure which of them had spoken. The police stepped in
between them and the intruder, assuring them they’d take
care of the problem, and since the snoop had actually been
on their front lawn instead of a more neutral location—like
the street—he was promptly arrested on charges of
trespassing and invasion of privacy.

Now, back inside with the door closed and locked, the
alarm reset, Adam was trying to tell himself it wouldn’t do
any good to call Cameron Bryce at one-thirty a.m. to ream
him out. He had no proof Cameron was actually the culprit,
since the pap hadn’t named names in a halfhearted effort to
protect his source, but he’d long suspected the man had it
out for him. He’d been willing to write it off as professional
rivalry, some kind of run-of-the-mill competition that
happened in Hollywood. He’d been annoyed but willing to

ignore it.

Until now.

He had no idea what Cameron could hope to accomplish
by sending a photographer to stake out their front yard or
what the fuck made him think the press release was a lie.
Adam didn’t talk about his arrangement with Keith to his
coworkers. They didn’t talk about their arrangement with
anyone they weren’t planning to sleep with, actually. Did
Cameron make a lucky guess, or did he somehow know
what was going on with the pretty-faced, sleepy-eyed young
man currently curled up against Keith on the couch? And
did he think he could sabotage Adam with that knowledge?

Maybe he could.

That had been Karen’s main concern when she’d been
playing the good agent and advising him to make “We’re
just friends” his official story and stick to it. “

Think about

your career—about Keith’s career

.”

Adam had been more worried about Sebastian. As Karen
had already acknowledged, they could spin the truth any
way they wanted to, and he and Keith were never going to
make anyone’s list of squeaky-clean conservatism. But
Sebastian hadn’t asked for any of this. He wasn’t famous.
He had no ambition to be famous. For him, there

was

such

a thing as bad press—it could ruin his career.

It had already ruined his internship.

They’d dodged a bullet tonight. The photographer hadn’t
gotten anything incriminating, just Keith being an
insomniac. The camera had already been wrenched out of
his hands by the time Adam and Sebastian had stumbled
to the door, jolted awake by the alarm.

They might keep dodging bullets, but with their lifestyle,
sooner or later, someone was going to catch on. They
couldn’t make the pap keep his mouth shut. He’d probably
write a story about it, recycling the original photos. After the
possibility was introduced, the tabloid speculation would
take on a different note. Everyone from delivery boys to
lifelong friends would be suspected of being their third.

And sometimes it would be true.

Movement on the couch caught his eye, and he glanced
over in time to see Keith placing a tender kiss on
Sebastian’s forehead, smoothing back his hair and
stroking down his neck. Sebastian shifted, turning more
into Keith’s embrace. The sight of his two lovers cuddling
flooded him with emotion, everything from affection to
protectiveness, and he thought of what Keith had said.

“

I want him

.”

He felt an answering thrum in his chest, an echo of

rightness, and frowned. Aside from his natural tendency not
to rush into anything, Sebastian was going home the next
day. Now was not the time to bring new dynamics into their
relationship.

But when Sebastian and Keith got up and headed toward
the bedroom, pausing and turning at the bottom of the
stairs to wait for him, Adam had to wonder if that ship had
already sailed.

* * * *

No one could say Cameron Bryce didn’t think big enough.
Apparently the tabloid journalist from that morning wasn’t
the only one he’d set on their trail, just the first, the fastest,
and the most foolhardy. By the time they woke up at a more
reasonable hour, there were clumps of photographers
milling around the end of their driveway but wisely staying
off their actual property and not blocking the road.
Unfortunately all their by-the-book behavior meant Adam
couldn’t call the cops on them.

It didn’t mean he couldn’t periodically peer through the
blinds to see if they’d given up yet. Of course they hadn’t. If
anything, they’d multiplied, and finally he turned away in
disgust and went to find his lovers. They weren’t in either of
the bedrooms, the living room, or in the hot tub, but he did

finally find them in the kitchen, sitting at the table.

They sat kitty-corner to each other, a messy pile of cards
between them, guarding neater stacks in front of them.
Keith’s stack was larger than Sebastian’s, and they were
both counting as Sebastian turned over one card after
another.

“…three…four…ha! I win!” Keith beamed, Sebastian
scowled, and Keith leaned across the corner of the table.
“With

tongue

,” he said. Adam propped himself against the

door frame and watched as Sebastian rolled his eyes,
sighed with mock aggrievance, and gave Keith a sloppy,
sexy kiss. Definitely with tongue.

“What are you two playing?” Adam wanted to know when
they pulled apart.

“Strip Jack Naked,” Keith said. “Which is a cocktease of a
name, because it doesn’t involve stripping

anybody

naked.”

Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked up, and he licked his
reddened lips before adding, “So Keith modified the rules.
Now instead of just winning the cards in the pile”—he
gestured to the messy pile in the middle that Keith was now
gathering to himself with greedy chuckles—“he also wins a
favor of some kind.”

“Above the waist only,” Keith complained, and Adam

“Above the waist only,” Keith complained, and Adam
chuckled.

“Do you want to play?” Sebastian asked, idly riffling the
small stack of cards he held in his hand. “It’s a two-player
game, but it can be modified for a threeway.” A devil’s grin
played at his pretty mouth, but Adam laughed. He could see
the hungry edge in the way Keith watched Sebastian.

“Thanks, but I think I’m still too distracted by the people with
cameras practically in my front yard. You two would beat the
pants off me.” Before either of them could protest that he
wasn’t exactly deterring them, he forged on. “Karen sent
over the interview questions from that late-night talk show
I’m supposed to go on next week. I think I’ll go over those
for a while and see if I can come up with some clever
responses.”

He leaned over and kissed both his lovers in turn, and then
settled himself in the living room with the pages of
questions he’d printed out. He stared at the first question—
something safe about where he was from, how he ended
up in LA—and skipped it. A few more questions about what
movies he liked, what music he was listening to, and then,
predictably, about his relationship with Keith.

You’ve been famously dating Keith Black for almost three
years now. Nobody thought you’d last three months.
What’s your secret?

That might not have been a loaded question when the show
wrote it, but damn if it wasn’t going to be a minefield to
navigate now. No matter what Adam said, someone was
going to suggest that their real secret was they slept with
other people.

He sighed and drew a squiggly line in the corner of the
page that eventually grew into a geometric pattern walking
down the margins. His usual style was to cut those
questions off at the pass, to preempt them by spilling his
secrets before someone could back him into a corner
about them, but he’d backed himself into a corner here.

Well, you know, we’re both into threesomes, so that’s
common ground right there.

Right. And then Sebastian would come up. And then
nobody would really

believe

their press release. It didn’t

help that the press release really was a lie.

Laughter drifted to him from the kitchen, carefree giggles
spilling out of the room. It sounded innocent, and
annoyance and affection spiked through him in equal
measures, a flood of protectiveness. Affection for his lovers
and their enjoyment of each other; annoyance that the
whole world thought it was their business, their

right

to

judge them for being tawdry.

Adam had seen G-rated children’s movies that were more

tawdry than what was going on between the three of them.
Just because there were more than two people didn’t make
it cheap. Fuck that. Fuck all of it.

He steadied the sheet of questions against his lap and
underneath the impertinent What’s your secret? he wrote in
heavy, emphatic script,

We love each other.

* * * *

Their last night together was spent curled up in bed,
touching, cuddling, kissing. And even though the sex
happened as an afterthought, it shook Adam to his core.
He would have put Sebastian in the middle, lavished as
much attention on him as possible, but they were still being
careful after their adventure in double penetration. Instead
Adam found himself sandwiched between the man he loved
and the man he was falling for, thrusting into Keith below
him as Sebastian filled him from behind. Their panting
gusted against his neck; their sweat slicked his skin.
Sebastian groaned and shook against his back, and Adam
reached up to grab his hair as Keith curled up to kiss him
through it, sloppy and awkward, Sebastian gasping for
fevered breaths that Keith fed him from his own hungry
mouth.

Sebastian stayed plastered to Adam’s back even after he

slipped out, hands shaking against Adam’s ribs, and Keith
groaned like a dying man as he trembled through his own
climax. Adam couldn’t hold back a wordless cry as he
came apart in his lovers’ arms, every muscle tense and
twitching, every nerve alive with raw pleasure.

“If this is wrong…” Sebastian whispered, then paused,
jagged breaths interrupting him.

Keith reached past Adam’s face and brushed Sebastian’s
hair back, tracing fingertips along Adam’s ear on the way
back. “Then fuck being right,” he finished, and Adam, too
shaken for words, kissed his throat in utter agreement.

* * * *

Adam wasn’t ready to let Sebastian go home. The
realization spooked him, unsettled him in a way that even
the media stalking hadn’t. Five days was enough time to
set three lives on their ears and far too little to get his fill of
this intoxicating new arrangement. He lay awake, both arms
pinned under his lovers, unwilling to move even though his
fingers were beginning to tingle from restricted circulation.

The bedside clock assured him it was much too early to be
awake, especially since Sebastian didn’t have to be at the
airport for six and a half more hours. But his stomach
twisted at the thought that it was

only

a little over six hours.

He knew it wasn’t fair, not with the way he’d told Keith they
needed to talk first, not after he’d told Sebastian that he
could go home and forget all about it, but he wanted
reassurances. He wanted to know this wasn’t the end, that
the relationship would continue. And he had no idea what to
do about it.

As the day wore on, he tried to give Sebastian space to let
him pack. From what he’d gathered, apparently everyone
he knew back home had seen the article about the three of
them. And no matter what kind of defusing statement they’d
issued, it was obvious from the pack of paparazzi still on
the lawn that no one really believed it.

And even if it

had

been true, if Sebastian

was

only a friend,

Adam knew it would still be a problem. He went to college
in a small town a little south of Charlotte, North Carolina, an
area not as jaded by stardom as Los Angeles or New York.
Being friends with two celebrities was news enough even
without all the salacious details. Adam didn’t want to say he
believed anything as drastic as that he and Keith had
ruined Sebastian’s life, but they had probably made it a hell
of a lot more difficult for him.

So when it was time for Sebastian to go, Adam hesitated
while Keith swept the younger man up in tight hugs and
fond kisses trailing from his lips to his shoulder with a
detour at his earlobe. And when Sebastian came to say

good-bye to Adam, it took far too long, arms wrapped
around each other, for Adam to find his voice.

“Do you want us to drive you to the airport?” Maybe in the
car, on the way, there could be some hint of future plans.
Some easy opportunity to say

We should do this again,

but without the photographers and the gossip

. And if there

wasn’t, it would at least give them a good forty-five more
minutes together and one last kiss at the drop-off.

Sebastian hesitated, and Adam pulled back enough to see
his eyes dart to the side and an uncomfortable blush wend
its way up his face. “Ah, that’s okay. The driver’s already on
his way.”

“We can call and cancel the car. That’s no problem.”
Sebastian still looked uneasy, and Adam backtracked. “But
if you’d rather we didn’t take you, that’s fine too.”

Sebastian winced. “It’s not that.” His hand jerked as if he
had been about to reach for Adam and thought better of it.
Or maybe it had been involuntary; Adam couldn’t read
anything in his lover’s body language or expression, and he
felt suddenly chilled. It was like talking to a stranger. Just
hours ago, he’d been so convinced that Sebastian was a
piece they hadn’t known was missing from their lives, and
now…

“No, it’s fine.” Adam took a step back, trying to keep the

humiliation from his face. It was obvious Sebastian wanted
to get away. Great sex could make up for only so much, and
Adam had a feeling the media circus and the problems it
was spawning were making Sebastian rethink the wisdom
of being involved with celebrities. “Have a good flight.”

He felt Keith’s arm slide around his waist and returned the
gesture, tugging Keith close. The warmth of his body was
comforting, especially when Sebastian didn’t meet either of
their gazes when he said quietly, “Thank you.”

The crunch of tires in the horseshoe driveway let them know
the driver was there, and Sebastian hefted his suitcase and
carry-on, refusing Keith’s wordless offer of help with a
shake of his head.

“Good-bye,” Sebastian said over his shoulder, his eyes
finally flickering up to meet their gazes. Then he left, and he
didn’t look back.

Chapter Twenty

The flight back to Charlotte was hands down the worst
Sebastian had ever been on. First there was the
thunderstorm that made their descent into Houston
something out of a low-budget action movie, complete with
screaming, babies crying, one toddler laughing like he
thought he was on a roller coaster, and one of the overhead

compartments popping open and spilling luggage
everywhere. The same storm delayed his connecting
flight’s departure, and he spent the unexpected layover
sitting in an Irish pub in the airport, picking listlessly at
mashed potatoes on his plate and sipping occasionally
from the seven-dollar Irish cream coffee he couldn’t really
afford that he’d ordered in a fit of depression.

He hadn’t expected the depression.

Leaving Adam and Keith had been like having something
ripped from his stomach, straight through his abdomen,
and then being left to bleed out slowly. Their last night
together had been earth-shattering for its tenderness, but it
had been nothing more than a farewell. He regretted not
taking Adam up on his offer to drive him to the airport. It
would’ve been a few more minutes, and maybe he would
have been able to say something. At the time, he’d thought
it would be better to get it over with quickly, like ripping off a
bandage.

What a horrible idea.

Still, maybe it was for the better. Now he could get on with
his life as if none of it had ever happened, as Adam had
suggested.

When the storm passed enough that his flight was finally
called, he texted Jason that he was leaving and gave the

estimated arrival time, then hauled his carry-on over to the
boarding gate. He forced himself to think about going
home, about seeing his friends again, catching up with
Jason.

Then he remembered the shitstorm that was waiting for him
and groaned.

Fuck.

He spent the last leg of his flight home staring out the
window, Keith’s album on repeat in his headphones, and
tried to forget about what he was leaving and what was
waiting for him on the ground in Charlotte.

But even though Jason had texted him to warn him that
things still hadn’t settled down over the pictures of him with
Adam and Keith, he was completely unprepared for Jason
to drive up to the passenger-pickup lane in a car spray-
painted with ugly slurs. It took a long moment of stunned
staring to realize it was

his

car.

“Wh—” He couldn’t even get a full word out, but Jason was
hustling him into the car, throwing his luggage into the
backseat, sliding into the driver’s seat, and pulling out of
the airport. Sebastian didn’t know if he actually heard
someone shouting the words that were painted on the
vehicle, but they were ringing in his head as loudly as if he
had.

“How was your trip?” Jason asked inanely. “Well, after the

storm and the delay, of course.”

“Jason, what the fuck happened to my car?”

Jason flexed his grip on the steering wheel and took a
deep breath. “We’re not exactly the neighborhood favorites
right now. I was going to pick you up in

my

car and prepare

you for this, but someone slashed my tires this morning,
so…”

Sebastian’s mind reeled. “When did this happen? What’s
been going on?”

Jason shrugged uncomfortably. “The spray-painting
happened yesterday. I’ve been calling around to get an
estimate of how much a paint job would cost, but it’s going
to be expensive. Of course.”

Of course it would. The slurs covered almost the entire car,
including some of the windows.

“So I did a search on the Internet for how to clean spray
paint off a car. It’s… Well, I figure we can make a day of it.”
He gave Sebastian a wry, apologetic smile. “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s not…not your fault.” Sebastian took a deep breath.
“Shit.”

Jason let Sebastian soak it all up for a moment before he
ventured, “But other than the flight home and the whole

tabloid leak, did you have a good time?”

A week before, Sebastian couldn’t have imagined hearing
Jason ask that question without a salacious undertone, but
he was sincere and genuine, and Sebastian tried to corral
his chaotic feelings long enough to give him an equally
genuine answer.

“I did. It was…” He felt his voice catch in his throat and
paused, mortified. There was no way he was about to cry.
“It was kind of amazing, actually. I…” He choked again and
stopped.

Jason slowed to a stop at a red light, and Sebastian could
feel his gaze. “Well, shit,” Jason said softly, voice full of
understanding and a hint of pity. “That’s going to be
complicated.”

And then, to Sebastian’s everlasting humiliation, tears
pricked his eyes. He blinked furiously, keeping them back,
and turned his face to stare out the window. Jason tactfully
said nothing, and they drove the rest of the way home in
silence.

When they pulled into the parking space beside Jason’s
car, Sebastian saw that either the vandals had come back
for more or Jason had understated the damage. Not only
were all four tires slashed, there were long scratch marks
down both sides. Several dents looked suspiciously like

they’d been made by a baseball bat, and one of his back
windows was spiderwebbed with cracks. Across the back
of the trunk, they’d keyed FAGGOT and FUCK U. How
original.

Jason stood beside him as they took in the damage to both
vehicles. Sebastian supposed he should be grateful his
had escaped the keying and tire-slashing, even if it was
dripping with SLUT and WHORE and BURN IN HELL U
FUCKING QUEER. That last one took up most of the back
windshield and the trunk.

“Well, I guess we’re out to the neighbors,” Sebastian finally
said, and Jason snorted.

“You could say that.”

There was nothing left to do but haul the luggage up the two
flights of stairs to their apartment. Out of sight of the
vandalized cars, he could almost forget about it all. Almost.
He dropped the bags beside the bed and flopped onto the
mattress face-first. Jason hovered for a minute, but when
Sebastian didn’t move or say anything, he crept out of the
room quietly and closed the door.

Sebastian gave half a thought to texting Keith or Adam to
let them know he’d made it home safe, but everything
ached with exhaustion and devastation, and he was asleep
before he could even reach for his phone.

* * * *

Sebastian had very little to contribute to the police report
Jason gave about the vandalism. He’d been in California at
the time it had taken place, and he had absolutely no idea
who the culprits might be. Once the officers were satisfied
Sebastian had no information, he retreated to his room with
his laptop and junk food. He could hear Jason in the living
room, answering questions, though he didn’t know much
more than Sebastian despite being here the whole time.
He could offer guesses, the identities of people who had
harassed him in other ways, but he hadn’t seen the vandals.

For his part, Sebastian was considering changing phone
numbers. After the tenth or so time he’d heard a text
message come in only to open it and find something
obscene or hateful from unfamiliar and sometimes blocked
numbers, he turned the phone to silent. Even then he
couldn’t make himself stop checking it to see if maybe
Adam or Keith had sent him anything. He’d gotten one
—

Did you get in ok?

—from Adam, had answered in the

affirmative with another thanks, and hadn’t heard another
peep out of them since.

He did his best to lose himself in mindless entertainment,
games and blogs and social media, and he dozed off a few
times, but at the back of his mind the entire time was a tug

of pain. He couldn’t look directly at the emotion without
being blinded by it, but it weighed down every thought and
movement.

A dozen times he picked up his phone with every intention
of texting the men he’d left behind in California. Every time,
he put it back down. They’d made it pretty clear they were
cutting ties. He didn’t want to look desperate, didn’t want to
be

that guy

who made a scene and turned into a stalker.

Just because he found himself wanting to tell them about
what had happened to the cars, what it was like to know he
was going to have to go back to school in a few weeks and
feel a hundred pairs of eyes on him all picturing him doing
lewd things—some of which he had actually done—didn’t
mean that they wanted to hear it.

He still thought about doing it, though, and what would
happen if he did. Adam would go all super-nurturer on him,
trying everything to make him more comfortable. Keith
would make a few idle threats about what he’d do to
anyone who looked at Sebastian wrong, and then he’d take
Sebastian’s mind off the situation one way or another.

Or else they’d ignore his text and his phone call, and
Sebastian would feel like an idiot.

It was far safer to sit back and wait for them to make the
first move. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t check
every few minutes to see if they’d made it yet.

He jumped at the knock on his door, and then Jason stuck
his head in, looking haggard.

“Hey. The officers are gone. They got pictures and said we
could go ahead and clean up the car if we want to.”

It had to be better than sitting in his room sulking, so
Sebastian nodded and hauled himself out of bed, groaning
at the stiffness in his limbs. Several cans of WD-40 and a
selection of sponges and soft cloths were in the laundry
room, and Sebastian could only guess that Jason had
gotten them before he’d come to pick Sebastian up at the
airport. Chances were, if Sebastian had returned a day
later, his roommate probably would have cleaned the car
already.

A half hour into it, Sebastian knew he wasn’t going to get
the reek of acetone out of his hands for weeks. The slurs
were coming off, slowly but surely, but they left the ghosts of
themselves behind. To a casual glance, it would look like
an uneven paint job. Considering how Sebastian felt about
his car, although it was neither new nor very expensive, that
hurt enough. But if he stared at the streaks long enough, he
could still make out the shape of the letters.

Jason hadn’t said anything the entire time, and Sebastian
was finally starting to notice the unnatural silence. It wasn’t
like his outgoing roommate not to have a witty comment or
two, and he peeked around the bumper to see Jason’s

expression.

“Hey,” he said when Jason didn’t look up. “You okay?”

Jason gave him a lopsided smile, a bare shadow of his
normal rakish grin, and waved a little with his sponge.
“Aside from being so high off these fumes I think I’d fail a
drug test, peachy keen. You?”

“Oh, you know. Could be better. Could be worse.”
Sebastian tried for a casual shrug and hoped he made it.
“Dreading classes.”

Jason gave him a sympathetic wince. “I feel ya there. You’ll
be lucky if they don’t list this in the graduation program.

Sebastian Gregory Keane, Journalism, Starfucker, cum
laude

.”

“

Magna

cum laude, thank you very much,” Sebastian shot

back. He concentrated on scrubbing off the bottom curve of
the U in SLUT and frowned. “I still haven’t talked to my
parents since I got home. I’m dreading that worse than
classes.”

“Hmm.” Silence reigned for long moments until Jason
ventured casually, “Have you talked to…them? Adam and
Keith?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Adam texted to see if I’d gotten
in okay. I told him I had. That’s been the end of it.”

“Are you going to tell them? About…you know.” Jason
looked apologetic as he stumbled over the awkward
question.

“About the fact that I’m mooning over them like a teenage
girl with posters on her wall, writing

Mr. and Mrs. Cruce

and Black

in my notebooks? No. It’s probably better if I try

to forget about it and move on.”

Jason rocked back on his heels and stretched his arms.
“How would that work, anyhow? Whose name would you
take if you married both of them? Would you hyphenate?”

Sebastian would have thrown something if he’d had
anything close at hand more effective than WD-40 cans
and sponges. “Did you miss the

move on

part there?”

Jason turned puppy-dog eyes on him, and he sighed and
gave in. “Aside from the fact that not even

two

of us can get

married right now, much less all three?”

“Aside from that.”

Sebastian laughed. “We’d probably keep our own names,
I’m guessing. Hyphenating all three could get a little
confusing.”

“Or you could measure dicks. Whoever’s got the biggest,
that’s whose name you’d use.”

“Adam,” Sebastian said before he could think better of it.
As soon as he realized what he’d revealed, he felt heat
creeping all the way up his cheeks.

“

Very

nice,” Jason said slyly. “So if you decided based on

sexual skill, who would—”

“Your mom,” Sebastian snapped. “Now shut up and get
back to work.”

But he felt better, and out of the corner of his eye, he could
tell Jason seemed pretty satisfied with himself.

Chapter Twenty-one

Keith could hear his own breathing, harsh with an edge like
white frost, burning through his lungs and throat like ice.
Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath, unwilling
to so much as blink in case it set him off and he broke
something more expensive—or more irreplaceable—than
his cell phone.

He hadn’t meant to break the phone. Hadn’t even realized
he was throwing it until long after it shattered against the
wall, little plastic pieces scattering everywhere the way he
wanted to imagine the text from his manager exploding.
Everyone had shut up immediately, all eyes on him, and
now he stood in the middle of the recording room, trembling

hands clenched into fists at his side. He could tell without
looking that they were all afraid of him, and he felt a rush of
satisfaction and resentment. At least they were leaving him
alone, but goddamn it, he was not some

ogre

who would

cook them in a stew for breathing wrong.

Of course, with the way he’d been acting lately, he couldn’t
really blame them.

He heard the trill of a cell-phone speed dial, and then
Manny’s quiet, calm voice.

“Adam? You might want to come to the studio if you can get
away from the set.” A pause, and he could barely make out
Adam’s muffled voice. “No, everyone’s fine. So far, at least,
but call me if you need to get in touch. Keith’s phone is
broken.” More Adam, and even though he couldn’t hear the
words, Keith could tell his lover was agitated. “Yeah, sure.
Get here when you can. See ya.”

The

beep

of Manny’s phone turning off and then a string of

words Keith barely heard enough to know he was
dismissing the other band members who were there for
early songwriting and jam sessions for the new album.
Keith never took his eyes off his own shattered phone lying
on the floor, and he couldn’t help thinking what an obvious,
clumsy metaphor it was for the rest of his life.

It was just a stupid text message. Sure it was intrusive and

offensive and none of Grissom’s goddamn business, but
taking it out on his phone was ridiculous. Just because the
media was playing dog-with-a-bone over his and Adam’s
sex life to a degree they never had before, just because he
missed Baz and was impatient to talk to Adam about
rearranging their relationship to make him a permanent
fixture in it, was no reason to let it erupt in the middle of his
professional environment. He knew that, but he also knew
all those things had stacked on top of each other until it felt
like they were pushing at his skin, trying to burst out.

He kept waiting for Manny to say something, to berate him,
to tell him what an asshole he was being and how much he
was endangering his career. He’d braced himself for it,
every muscle tense, ears already ringing with the imagined
dressing-down.

Go the fuck to therapy, Black, or risk

losing your band, your recording contract, and everything
else you have.

But Manny stayed quiet behind the drum kit, little rustling
noises telling Keith that he wasn’t as tense as the other
band members had been. Eventually everything unwound
enough that he sneaked a glance over to see that Manny
was fiddling with his phone—from the motions, most likely
playing a game. Keith took a deep breath, straightened,
and turned to face him. He braced himself for a sarcastic

Feeling better

? or a patronizing

How are you doing

? but he

should have known better. Manny had been with him a long,
long time.

“Hey.”

Keith cleared his throat. “Hey. Uh, sorry.”

Manny turned off his phone and slid it into his pocket, then
rested his hands loosely on his thighs. Keith recognized the
body language—open, nonthreatening,

Hey, buddy, I’m on

your side.

“I don’t know wh-wh—” His throat closed tight around the
words, and he had to stop and swallow. “Sorry,” he said
again.

“Adam said he’d come over as soon as he can, but he
doesn’t know when that’ll be.” Manny’s casual tone helped
take some of the sting out of the words, but Keith still felt a
hot, dark red spike of anger at the way everyone treated
Adam like his babysitter. Like he was a goddamned

child

who needed his nanny to rein in his temper tantrums.

He felt like storming out of the studio, but he knew that
Manny would dog his heels, calm and loose-limbed and
probably whistling the melody they’d been trying to get
down before Keith had snapped. His skin still crawled with
the need for movement, though, so he took a deep breath
and straightened his shoulders.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Manny nodded and stood, clearly intending to go along, as
Keith had known he would. Keith knew better than to
protest, but it didn’t stop him from lengthening his stride
toward the back door and not waiting for Manny to catch up,
aware that he was acting as childishly as he was being
treated.

Once out in the chilly sunlight behind the studio, he slowed
his steps as a tacit apology. Manny fell into step beside
him, and they walked quietly together until the black, thorny
feeling eased enough that his skin no longer felt prickly and
tender. He could still feel a swirl of dark emotions waiting to
spring up and torment him, but at least they weren’t on the
surface for now, and he could act like a decent human
being.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and Manny nodded. “I’ll call the
band and apologize as soon as I get a new phone.”

Manny grinned. “At least all our guys know what an ass you
are, and we don’t have to go groveling to studio musicians.
Silver lining.”

Keith flipped him off, and Manny laughed. It was a good
sound.

* * * *

Adam wasn’t laughing that evening when they met at home,
takeout containers scattered across the kitchen counters.
Keith poked at his food with a pair of cheap bamboo
chopsticks, sliding noodles and vegetables across his
plate. It was one of his favorite dishes, and he suspected
Adam had chosen it deliberately because of that, but he
just couldn’t find his appetite.

He felt Adam’s gaze on him and popped a shrimp into his
mouth to avoid suspicion.

It didn’t work.

“It’s been three weeks,” Adam said softly, and Keith tensed.
Three weeks since Baz had gone home, he meant, and
since Keith had tumbled headlong into this dark, sticky
morass of feelings. They still hadn’t been able to talk about
what they wanted, because Keith couldn’t manage to get
his feelings to shut up long enough to get to his thoughts.
“Have you thought any more about what we talked about?
With the therapist?”

“Grissom texted me today,” Keith said instead of
answering, twirling lo mein around his chopsticks. Adam
sighed from across the table, disappointed and resigned
that Keith

still

wasn’t ready to talk about anything of

substance, and Keith kept going. “Asked me if he was
going to have to field any more questions about ‘that twink
slut.’”

The clatter of Adam’s fork dropping to his plate startled
him, and he looked up to see Adam looking pale with
anger. For a moment, Keith wondered if his lover was
going to explode, but instead Adam picked up his fork and
gripped it so tightly his knuckles went white. His hand was
shaking.

“Is that why you broke your phone?”

“Yeah.” That and the rest of Grissom’s texts, full of snide
moral superiority and telling Keith he knew about the
temper tantrums, knew the studio was having trouble with
him.

Keep your ass out of rehab and out of therapy. I don’t

need you picking up any more bad press.

“Maybe we should find you a new manager, babe.”

That was an appealing idea. Unfortunately Keith had a
reputation as being difficult to work with, and—“He’s got
nine months left on his employment contract.”

Adam gave him a pointed look over a forkful of fried rice.
“You could pay him out. We can afford it, and it would be
worth it.”

The thought of shopping for a new manager turned Keith’s
stomach into knots. Résumés, interviews, the exhaustion of
trying to read through the bullshit to find someone who was
a good match. Someone who didn’t think he was morally

degenerate. Someone who understood his problems
instead of using them against him. Someone who wasn’t

worse

than Grissom.

“No.” When Adam frowned, Keith shook his head again.
“Just…no. I can’t right now.”

Keith knew it cost Adam a lot to let that go, but he did, and
Keith felt a bright surge of gratitude even in the middle of
his darker colors. Then he realized it was only because
Adam had bigger fish to fry.

“About Sebastian…” Adam paused to take a deep breath,
and Keith held his. “Are we—Do we—Do you still want to
talk about asking him to be permanent?”

The words came out all in a rush, and Keith couldn’t tell if it
was because Adam did want it…or because he didn’t.

“Maybe.” He knew he was hedging, but something about
Adam’s nervousness was infecting him, sending a
spiderweb of bright green doubt all the way through his
nerves. He could feel it snaking up his arms like a physical
ache. He was already on thin ice with Adam, pushing his
luck, pushing his lover’s patience. The idea of pushing him

away

was terrifying. “Do you?”

Adam couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, eyes flicking down
to his plate, and Keith squirmed. What did

that

bit of body

language mean?

“I…” Adam cleared his throat, and unfamiliar tension
radiated from him. Keith had never seen him like this. “I
think so. But maybe not now. Not yet.” His fork made a
horrible screech when he scraped it across the plate, and
he winced. “Maybe after he’s had some time. After we’ve

all

had some time.”

There was a lie in there, but Keith couldn’t tell where. All he
knew was that he could read Adam’s body, read the tic in
his jaw and the tremble in his hand. The tension was too
much to handle. He could feel Adam’s uneasiness under
his skin, almost as raw as his own, and he needed

out

for a

minute. Needed to be able to breathe.

He stood abruptly, taking his plate with him, and Adam’s
head snapped up. “Where are you going?”

“To put away the leftovers.”

Adam glanced at his plate. “But you’ve barely eaten
anything.”

“Not hungry.” Keith went into the kitchen before Adam could
say anything else. More than anything right now, he did

not

need to be answering questions. Not about something as
vital as what place Baz had in their lives. Not even about
something as inane as why he didn’t want the rest of his

shrimp and vegetable lo mein.

What he needed…was to get away.

Chapter Twenty-two

Distraction was the name of the game, and Adam was
losing by a mile. Or winning, however one wanted to look at
it. They’d had to retake the scene five times because he
couldn’t get a simple line right. He kept missing his cue,
forgetting the words.

“Cut!” The director rubbed his temples and sighed. “Take
five, everybody. Cruce, get fresh and get your head back in
the game.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one feeling his phone
buzz in his pocket every two or three minutes. With Keith
bottoming out and no relief in sight, Adam wasn’t taking any
chances. He couldn’t always get to the phone immediately,
but he wanted to know if Keith or Manny or—God forbid—
Grissom was trying to get in touch with him. He ducked
around the corner of the stage and through the door to the
hallway, pulling out his phone as he went.

Six new text messages, all from a blocked number, with
increasingly lurid suggestions. He stared at the fifth and
sixth ones for a long time, wondering if he’d misjudged the

anonymous sex messages he’d been getting all along.

I’ll make u leave ur crazy boyfriend. I know u want me.

Even when ur distracted u make me hard. R u thinking
about me?

It wasn’t anything particularly identifying, but… Adam felt the
corner of his eye twitch and reached up with one finger to
smooth the tired muscle. Between the “crazy boyfriend” line
and the reference to him being distracted sent eight
minutes ago… Was it someone on set? Someone in the
cast or the crew?

He glanced over his shoulder as if the culprit would
suddenly leap out at him, but of course there was no one
there. Just the empty hallway. He cursed under his breath
and pulled up a text message, intending to check up on
Keith. As he started to key it in, though, he remembered
that Keith didn’t have his new phone yet. He would be
getting it that afternoon, and Adam didn’t want the first
person who saw the message to be the tech who set it up
for him.

Even then, he didn’t close the message. He hovered, finger
barely touching the screen, and thought about Sebastian.
He still didn’t think it was fair to upset Sebastian’s life again
without knowing what they would be asking for. And was it
fair to ask him to be part of their relationship without

making sure he understood what he might be getting into
with Keith? Adam sighed and closed the message.

I don’t regret loving him or being in a relationship with him,
but fuck, it has made my life harder. Maybe I should do
the research on the therapists for him so he can have the
information.

He brought up the browser on his phone and keyed in
“bipolar psychotherapist” to see what would come up. He
wouldn’t have time to do any in-depth research, nothing that
would be informative enough to give Keith, but it might give
him an idea of where to start.

The sound of a door closing down the hall snapped Adam
to attention, and he looked up to see Cameron Bryce
walking toward him. He sighed and straightened his spine,
squaring his shoulders.

“Sorry. Break’s over, right? I’ll be right there.” He looked
back down at his phone, hoping it would give Cameron the
cue to back off. He didn’t want to talk to the man. He still
had no proof Cameron was the one who had sent the
paparazzi after him, but the suspicion was strong enough to
make it harder than usual to be civil. He also didn’t want to
give him more fodder to use against Keith, since Cameron
had already proven himself willing to do so.

Cameron hadn’t answered him, and the lack of response

made him glance up again, but he wasn’t prepared for how
near Cameron was, invading his personal space, face tilted
intimately close. He slid his hand onto Adam’s hip, and
Adam tried to pull away, but the wall at his back stopped
him.

“Cameron, wha—”

Cameron ducked in, and Adam turned his face as he
pushed, barely feeling Cameron’s lips against his cheek
before the other man stumbled backward, off-balance. It
was just enough room for Adam to slide away from the wall.
He frowned and pocketed his phone, then put his hands up
between them as Cameron reached for him, snagging his
sleeve.

“Stop fighting it,” Cameron growled, and Adam wrenched
away, heart pounding up into his throat. “We’ve been
dancing around this for months.”

“Dancing around

what

? Knocking each other’s teeth out?”

Adam kept backing away, but Cameron kept advancing.
He was going to run out of hallway eventually.

Cameron laughed, low and lustily, sending chills up Adam’s
spine—and not the good kind. “Well, sure, if you like it
rough. We could try for that.”

He moved like lightning, so fast Adam couldn’t dodge him,
and he pushed Adam back against the wall, pinning him

there. Adam pushed back, but Cameron was prepared and
didn’t budge.

“Cameron, look, dude. I’m not interested in you. I’m sorry if I
gave you that impression at any point, but I thought we were
on the same page with the whole barely-tolerating-each-
other thing.”

“We are. I hate you. I can’t stand you. But goddamn, I want
to fuck you.” Cameron leaned closer, his breath gusting
over Adam’s throat, and Adam stiffened, trying to decide
how to get Cameron off him without hurting the other man.
Injuring his coworker wouldn’t put him on anybody’s
favorites list. “I can’t believe you don’t want to fuck me too.
I’ve seen the way you look at me. The way you check your
phone for my texts. I know you want this as bad as I do.”

“The hell?” Adam shoved without thinking, and this time, he
caught Cameron off guard and managed to put a little
distance between them before Cameron could regain his
footing. “

You

sent those texts? You sick motherfucker.

What is wrong with you?”

“Come on, you can’t expect me to believe you

love

that

piece of shit you’re with. He cheats on you and doesn’t
even bother to hide it! He even brings his little sluts into
your house! You think I believe that bullshit that you’re okay
with it?” He pressed in again, but Adam pushed back
harder, keeping the space between them. “Don’t you want

to get back at him? Come on. We could go fuck. You could
call him, make him listen like he does to you. Make him
hear some other man making you come.”

“What the fuck is—” Adam stopped, stunned, as he
remembered the conversation he’d had on the phone with
Keith that day Cameron had taunted him with Keith’s erratic
behavior on tour and then told the tabloids they were on the
outs. Had he said anything about listening in to Keith and
some random guy? Probably. It was a common enough
occurrence.

“Listen, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.
What’s between me and Keith is our business, not yours.
And I don’t have any interest in sleeping with you—not for
revenge, not for some twisted kind of punishment, and sure
as hell not for my own pleasure.”

Cameron lunged, and this time Adam didn’t care if he hurt
the man or not; he was putting a stop to this. Cameron was
a little broader, more muscle on him, but Adam had a good
five inches on him and used it to his advantage, tackling the
other man to the floor.

It felt like a high-school scuffle, kicking and pushing, never
getting in a good punch. Neither of them could pin the other
to the floor; neither gained a clear advantage. When hands
closed around his upper arms and hauled him back, he
was startled to find there were other people in the hallway—

the crew from the show, pulling them apart, holding them
both back.

“What is going on here?” Rand Marshall demanded,
looking between them. It was never a good thing when the
director started treating you like first graders. “Fuck, you’re
a mess. Fuck! We might as well call it quits and take the
rest of the goddamn day off! Look at yourselves! What the
hell has gotten into you?”

Adam felt something wet on his upper lip and swiped at it,
only a little surprise when his hand came away sticky with
blood. “He”—he pointed to Cameron—“has been sending
me obscene text messages and just assaulted me.”

He felt the key grip behind him ease away slightly and
watched the eyes of the crew members around him widen
in disbelief. Resentment bubbled hot as he imagined they
were all thinking about the gossip about him, his
“promiscuous” boyfriend, and their third. He knew they were
all thinking

What did you expect

? Or perhaps they were

thinking that he had propositioned Cameron instead.

Adam dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it to
Rand. “Here. The texts are all from a blocked number. The
ones on there are all from today. He’s been sending them
to me for months, but I didn’t know it was him, and I deleted
them all.”

Rand gave Adam a skeptical look, then turned the same
expression on Cameron before he read the texts.

“He admitted to sending these?” Rand didn’t sound
convinced, and Cameron sneered.

“Yes. And I’m sure any of the security cameras in the hall
will show he approached and assaulted me, not the other
way around.”

Rand gave Cameron a hard look, and Cameron averted his
eyes.

“Goddamn actors,” Rand groused. “You’re all fucked in the
head. We’ll look at the tapes, and Bryce, if Cruce is telling
the truth, you’re out. Your contract is up, and you’d better
get your head on straight if you’re ever going to work in this
town again. Harassing coworkers is a great way to end up
waiting tables for the rest of your life.”

Rand gave Adam’s phone back to him and dismissed
everyone with a wave.

“Sarah, call Ormond and Davis, tell them we need them on
set. We’re going to move their scenes up to today so at
least we won’t lose a whole goddamn day of filming.”

Adam took the phone with an unsteady hand and glanced
across at Cameron. The other man wasn’t looking at him,
and Adam couldn’t decide if he was glad about that or not.

* * * *

The video, of course, confirmed Adam’s version of the
story, and it was enough to get Cameron fired and his
character written out of the script. In an ironic twist, the
tabloids ran the headline almost as soon as it happened.
Adam didn’t know who had called it in, but it wasn’t him. Of
course it got trumped up as much more than it was, but
what concerned him most were the pop psychologist
diagnoses that got tossed around.

Keith gave him a long, wordless look the first time one of
them mentioned “mental instability” and the possibility that it
would have a permanent, negative impact on Cameron’s
career. Adam sighed and admitted defeat, at least for the
moment.

Keith still wasn’t eating. He picked at meals that consisted
of his favorite dishes. Adam got the feeling he wasn’t even
doing that much when he was alone. He smelled like
cigarette smoke—the stale menthols that Adam knew he
kept in the back of a kitchen drawer—but as much as
Adam worried, he never smelled of alcohol.

Adam still hesitated over contacting Sebastian. The whole
discussion of where they wanted that relationship to go
seemed to be shelved. Keith was barely holding his own,

and Adam had lost what little ground he’d gained in the
argument about involving a psychiatrist. Keith tried to hide
it, but Adam got the feeling that Grissom was putting
pressure on him to stay out of the limelight, to minimize the
effect of his depression on his career and the band. It was
two against one. Adam might have been Keith’s lover, but
he wasn’t his manager.

Keith’s black mood crept into their bedroom and slept
between them like a living thing. No matter how close
Adam held him, there was a gulf his touch couldn’t cross.
For all that his sexual appetites were insatiable in the high
moods, Keith now had no interest in anything more than
chaste kisses and sleeping in the same bed, and
sometimes Adam got the distinct impression he was only
tolerating that.

On a day off from filming while Keith was at the studio,
Adam lugged his laptop into the kitchen and set it up on the
table with a notepad and pen to the side. He searched for
counselors and pharmapsychotherapists, did research on
the medications recommended for bipolar and their side
effects. He looked for support groups, for any kind of
advice on how to keep Keith’s treatments quiet. If he was
prepared, if he had evidence, a

plan

, maybe it would be

easier to convince Keith that Grissom’s scare tactics about
therapy were just that, that Cameron’s situation didn’t have
to be his.

He was so involved in scribbling down his notes he didn’t
hear the front door open or Keith come in. The first clue he
had was the soft kiss dropped on the back of his neck that
startled him so sharply his palms ached with the sudden
burst of adrenaline.

“H-hey, babe.” He closed the laptop as casually as possible
and turned in the chair, hoping to catch Keith’s full attention
before he could decipher the chicken scratch on the
notepad.

Keith pulled the chair away from the table enough that he
could climb into Adam’s lap, and Adam held him tight,
breathing a sigh of relief. Adam was taller by a few inches,
but like this, Keith was at exactly the right height to rest his
chin on Adam’s head, and they stayed like that for long
moments, Adam listening to Keith’s heartbeat and steady
breathing.

“You okay?” he finally asked, and Keith took a long,
shuddering breath.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. It’s bad this time.” He straightened
up, rolling his head to work out the tension in his neck, and
Adam ran a soothing hand up his back. “I don’t know if—”

He froze, and Adam peered up at his face. “Babe?”

“What…” Keith squirmed in Adam’s arms enough that he
could pick up the notepad, and ice crashed into Adam’s

stomach. “What is this?”

“I was doing a little research.”

For a character

was on the

tip of his tongue, but lying to Keith seemed like a bad idea.
Of course, telling him the truth could be much worse at this
stage.

“What is—

lithium

?”

“Ah, crossed through, if you’ll notice. I was going to tell you,
just—”

“Antipsychotics? What is this… ‘No antidepressants,’ what
does that mean? ‘Pharmapsychotherapist, specializes in
bipolar’?” Keith was shaking.

“It’s just research.”

Keith fixed him with a sharp look, and Adam felt his mouth
go dry. “Research. Into bipolar medications and
treatments.” The notepad curled in his grip, pages crinkling.
“I am

not

my father!”

“No, sweetie, I didn’t—no. It’s not—it’s just—”

“Damn you, we

talked

about this! I can’t do this, Adam. I

can’t—go to your happy little therapist and take happy little
drugs and be a happy little model b-bipolar patient. They’ll
kill me. They’ll chew me up and spit me out. Fuck, you saw
what they did when I went to rehab. You see what

Grissom’s doing now after Baz—

shit

. Fuck this shit.”

He stood, nearly taking Adam with him, and slammed the
notepad down on the table.

“I

can’t

.”

“Keith—wait—hang on! Where are you—where are you
going?”

Keith was almost out the door before Adam found his feet,
but longer legs were good for some things. He caught Keith
right outside on the steps, fingertips barely catching in his
sleeve and pulling him around.

Keith stopped, but his glare was ice-cold, and when Adam
couldn’t help a reflexive glance to see if there were any
lingering photographers from their last tangle with the
paparazzi, Keith pulled away again.

“Don’t—don’t drive,” Adam pleaded, stepping out into the
yard, heedless of bare feet and cold, dead grass.

“I’ll be fine.” Keith stopped with the car door open but didn’t
face him. “I have my phone. I’ll be careful.”

It was as much of a concession as Adam was likely to get,
and he held back the rest of the protests he wanted to blurt
out. If Keith had his mood mostly under control, the last
thing Adam needed to do was ruin that.

“Okay,” he said instead, and his voice sounded like a
stranger’s, low and tight with pain.

He stood in the grass long after Keith had pulled out of the
driveway, his toes going numb in the January evening.

Chapter Twenty-three

When the first day of classes arrived several weeks later
and Sebastian still hadn’t heard anything from California,
the distraction of starting the semester was almost a relief.
At least now he had something to interrupt long days of
trying to pretend he didn’t care that he hadn’t heard a peep
out of Keith or Adam and subsequently arguing with himself
over whether he dared try to send them a message.

It didn’t take him long to feel like he’d gone from the frying
pan to the fire, though. He tried to tell himself it was only his
imagination that everyone seemed to stare at him a little
too long, just paranoia that his mass-comm professor
hesitated over his name on the first day’s roll call. But he
knew he wasn’t imagining the lingering echo of graffiti on
his car, and it took all the courage he had buried deep
down inside to drive the damn thing to school and park it in
the commuters’ parking lot. If there had been a bus
available, he might not have driven at all.

All of his classes for the first day were morning courses, the
myth of senior privilege gone right out the eastern-facing
window in his eight a.m. humanities course. The good part
of an early start was an early end, though, and Sebastian
walked out of his last class a few minutes after noon,
squinting against the pale light of the January sun.

Back in the familiar halls of his university, where he’d spent
a vast portion of the last four and a half years of his life, he
could almost pretend that everything with Keith and Adam
had happened to someone else. He noticed good-looking
guys in his classes, old friends, and an ex-boyfriend he
passed in the halls and wondered if maybe one of them
might like to go out for coffee some time. The lingering
ache in his chest was just an anomaly, and—

The loud

trill

of his phone ringing stopped him, and he froze

as he recognized the ringtone. He hadn’t expected to ever
hear it again. Sebastian stared at the readout on his caller
ID.

He took a deep breath and answered.

“Hello?”

“Sebastian! I—Oh God, I’m sorry. How are you? Is
everything—Jesus, I haven’t even…”

Sebastian blinked. For all the time he’d spent with Keith
and Adam, he’d never heard either of them less than

articulate outside the bedroom. And if he’d had to guess
one of them was going to call him in a tizzy, he wouldn’t
have guessed Adam.

“I’m fine, but what’s wrong? You don’t sound so good.”
Telling him about the slurs, the graffiti, and the stares of his
classmates could wait. “Is it Keith?”

Adam barked out a dry, humorless laugh that turned into
static in the speaker. “Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry we haven’t
been in touch. It’s been…”

“No, that’s fine. What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I probably shouldn’t have called you. There isn’t anything
you can do. I just—Keith’s having a hard time. He’s not… I
missed you. We miss you.”

Sebastian could feel the tips of his fingers going tingly and
tried to remember to breathe. This was a dream and a
nightmare all at once. He missed both of them more than
he’d ever expected, but this frantic, incoherent burst of
sentiment was terrifying. He wanted to believe it was
genuine, that Adam would have missed him even if Keith
hadn’t been in the middle of…whatever it was that Adam
wasn’t saying. But two weeks of silence made that seem
unlikely.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said cautiously, and he could hear
Adam sigh right into his ear, two thousand miles away.

Adam sigh right into his ear, two thousand miles away.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t how I meant to call you. I’ve nearly
called or texted you a hundred times, but we were waiting
until we had a more solid idea of… It just didn’t seem fair to
you. I…” Adam took a deep breath, and it sounded shaky
on the exhale. “I’m worried about Keith. And I needed to talk
to someone. And you were the only person I could think of
that I wanted to talk to. The only one who would…
understand.”

Sebastian doubted he was the only person Adam knew
who would understand what was going on with Keith. In fact,

Sebastian

didn’t have a clue. But the words warmed him

nonetheless. “What’s wrong with Keith? Why are you
worried?”

“It’s a long story, kitten,” he said, and the sound of Keith’s
nickname for him in Adam’s voice made his heartbeat
stutter. “Have you got a minute?”

“I’ve got at least a hundred. Let me go sit down.”

This time there was relief in Adam’s tone as he said quietly,
“Thank you.”

* * * *

When Adam finally hung up over an hour later, Sebastian’s

ear was sore from pressing his phone against it, and his
mind was spinning. It all made sense, in odd ways, but it
was a lot to take in. Adam and Keith

didn’t

want him out of

their lives; exactly the opposite. It had taken a bit to coax all
the details out of Adam, to uncover his desires behind the
veil of his sense of responsibility, but they both wanted him.
Long-term. As a partner.

He felt light-headed thinking about it.

“

We wanted to give you time away from us, to make sure it

was what you wanted, to make sure we weren’t pressuring
you into anything. I probably shouldn’t be telling you now,
but it’s just… We miss you

.”

That wasn’t the only surprise bomb Adam had dropped,
though. He’d been reluctant to share the details—”

It’s

Keith’s story, not mine

”—but some of Keith’s erratic

behavior he’d only ever heard about, and some of it he’d
experienced firsthand, was due to a psychological
condition. Adam said he’d been given a preliminary
diagnosis by his substance-abuse counselor in rehab, and
although Adam wouldn’t tell him what the diagnosis was,
Sebastian could make a few rough guesses.

“

I want you to know that before you make any decisions.

He isn’t likely to seek treatment anytime soon—he’s
adamant that it would ruin his career, and maybe he’s
right—so that’s a risk you need to know about

.”

It was a big risk. A scary one. But for all that he’d thought he
could move on to someone else an hour ago, he knew
better now. Just the sound of Adam’s voice had made
Sebastian ache for both him and Keith, their smiles, their
touches, the smell of their skin as they curled against him,
boneless and sweaty, their breath as they panted his name
through heated kisses. More than that, he missed

them

, the

simple feeling of being near them.

It was worth a million slurs painted on his car. Worth curious
stares and ruined internships and family rejections. Worth
the effort of figuring out how the course of his life would
need to change, whether to look into grad school in
Southern California.

And, he thought with a giddy flutter in his diaphragm, it
seemed they felt the same. At the very least, Adam had
sounded so much lighter by the time they’d hung up, his
voice tender and fond as he’d said, “

Bye, sweetheart. If all

goes well, we’ll see you soon

.”

And didn’t that just make his heart beat doubletime: Keith
Black and Adam Cruce were coming back to Charlotte.

For him.

Chapter Twenty-four

The plane tickets were a bribe. Keith understood that. They
were a bribe for good behavior, a last-ditch effort at
keeping him from sailing off a cliff of dark moods into a
darker abyss. They were a peace offering for a betrayal of
trust and an apology for Adam not knowing what to do.
They were weighted down with so many meanings that
Keith imagined they might as well have been carved from
stone. They certainly felt cool and gray in his hands, heavy
and sharp-edged.

But when he handed them to the concierge at the first-class
check-in, they were only paper after all, and the knight in
shining armor standing at his back was just a man, fragile
and vulnerable and helpless against the muddle and chaos
living in Keith’s brain.

Adam kept his hand pressed against the small of Keith’s
back as they moved through the security line and toward
the gate, and when they eventually settled side by side in
the cabin, his touch hovered uncertainly above Keith’s knee
for a moment.

And despite the way he felt like living strings of color were
tangling and fighting for the right to rule him, Keith turned
his hand palm up on the armrest between them in a peace
offering of his own. It was worth it for the way Adam relaxed
at his side as their fingers entwined, even if Keith could feel
his skin prickling and crawling with too much feeling, too

much sensation. When the flight attendant offered them
drinks, he let Adam order for both of them so that he
wouldn’t ask for whiskey.

It wasn’t the way Keith expected to move this part of things
forward. In fact, he hadn’t really thought about how it would
happen at all. They’d sort of skipped that point, and in
some respects, Keith felt even more like a child than he
had the day Manny had called Adam to come get him at the
studio. Now he felt like a toddler who’d been handed a toy
to appease his temper tantrum, and he wasn’t sure he liked
it.

He knew that wasn’t fair to Adam or Baz. Adam had told
him about the conversation, about how happy Baz had
been, about how much he’d missed them.

Adam

was

excited, and that was enough to make Keith swallow all his
misgivings and bitter feelings. He worried sometimes that
Adam was doing things just to make him happy—ordering
Keith’s favorite dinners from takeout, picking out his
favorite movies on pay-per-view, sleeping with other
people.

He turned his head and stared out the window at the tarmac
gliding by as the plane picked up speed, and as the wheels
left the ground, he let his thoughts slide into an idea that
sent splinters of ice through him.

At least they’ll have each other.

Adam’s fingers tightened briefly around his, and Keith
turned enough to see his face. There was a question there,
an unspoken

How are you doing

? and Keith forced a smile

in answer. And then, because Adam didn’t seem convinced
by the gesture, he shifted so that their shoulders were
pressed together.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the
back of Adam’s hand.

Adam lifted their hands together and kissed Keith’s
fingertips, holding his gaze. “You sure you’re okay?”

The knowledge of everything

not okay

twisted inside him,

pressing at him, but he nodded. Adam arched an eyebrow,
and to divert him before he could start prying open things
better left sealed in Keith’s brain, Keith blurted out
something he’d been thinking about.

“So if it turns out that this conversation goes the way we all
hope it will, and we start being the three of us instead of you
and me plus Baz, how is that going to change…things?”

Adam tilted his head. “What things?”

“I mean…” Keith paused and took a deep breath while he
tried to get his words together. For once, he preferred

not

to shock everyone around him. This was too private to be a
spectacle, and he was too raw to make it a show. “Will it be

just

the three of us?”

“Oh.” The look on Adam’s face said he hadn’t thought about
it. “I guess we’ll bring that up for discussion and see how
everybody feels.”

Keith nodded. “I wouldn’t want to hold Baz back, you know?
I mean. He’s young.” Uncertainty flickered across Adam’s
face as clearly as if it had been written there, and Keith
pressed on. “But…I don’t know. I just haven’t been
interested in anybody else since him.”

“Mm.”

Something shuttered in Adam’s expression then, and as
easily as he’d read him a moment ago, Keith couldn’t tell
what he was thinking now for anything. Keith felt the shift in
the tension of his grip, and then Adam let go of him to take
a sip of his drink. When he set down the cup, he didn’t take
Keith’s hand again, and Keith sank down in his seat,
feeling the air between his fingers as if Adam had carved
out wider spaces there and left them empty.

Keith tried to let it go, but it pushed at him until he couldn’t
stand it, everything inside him pushing back until he blurted,
“But I mean…if you want to keep sleeping with other
people, that’s fine. That’s you. We can still… It doesn’t have
to change. Unless Baz wants it to, I guess, and then…”

“No, it’s fine.”

Keith kept waiting for some elaboration—

What’s fine

?—

but Adam seemed to have dropped the subject. Keith tried
one more time to follow his lead, but the buzzing under his
skin wouldn’t let him relax. He stared at Adam’s hand,
wishing he had the courage to take it again, lace their
fingers back together so his wouldn’t feel so empty.

What’s

the big deal

? He should be able to do this. They’d been

together for years. Adam had never refused him anything.

Except that one night when everything had just gone black.

“You know…” Keith trailed off and cleared his throat,
watching his fingers flex toward Adam’s before he clenched
his hand into a fist. Adam gave him a half glance and an
inquisitive arch of his eyebrow. He swallowed.

You know I

couldn’t do this without you

. It was on the tip of his tongue,

but it sounded so needy, so demanding. “I don’t know if I
ever told you thank you for these plane tickets.”

Adam cracked a smile then, a real one, wry and tender
around the edges, and some of the anxious threads cutting
into Keith’s heart relaxed.

“You can thank me properly when we get there.” He leaned
over and brushed a soft, lingering kiss across Keith’s
cheek, then another closer to his ear.

Keith shivered, and Adam chuckled, his breath stirring

Keith’s hair before he settled back into his own seat. Adam
refocused on his magazine, and Keith took a deep breath,
wishing the rest of the tightness in his chest would ease.
Tired of fighting it, he leaned against the window and
closed his eyes.

Just as he started to drift off, he felt Adam’s fingers curl
around his, and he smiled.

* * * *

The hotel room felt like almost as much of a prison as his
skin did. No matter how much he paced, he was still
trapped in both. He could leave the hotel room, of course,
but Baz and Adam were both on their way, and Keith didn’t
want to miss either of them. Their visit to the East Coast
coincided with an interview Adam was supposed to do.
He’d been gone since midmorning and should have been
wrapping up any minute. Baz’s last class of the day had
ended about ten minutes before, so it was anybody’s guess
who would get there first or if they’d arrive at the same time.

He and Adam had agreed that it would be best to lead into
things slowly, but the relationship discussion was on
everybody’s mind, and Keith knew they might, at best, get a
few minutes of small talk in before jumping straight into it.
Which was fine. He wanted to know if this would work and

how.

He worried that they would want sex. Happy, giddy reunion
sex. Heady new relationship sex. And part of him wanted
that too, but he knew how his body had been for the last few
weeks. Nothing Adam did stirred him. Touches and
whispers went ignored by his libido. Kisses laid sweetly
against his mouth stayed only lukewarm. It wasn’t unusual;
the blue moods sometimes drained him of his responses.
But here they were, trying to convince Baz to stay with them,
and all he had to offer was a fucked-up head and a body to
match.

Footsteps in the hall had him pausing midpace, and he
stared hard at the door as if he could see who was on the
other side. Then there was a knock, and unless Adam had
lost his key, that was Baz. Keith’s heart double-thumped
and his hands shook as he opened the door.

Baz looked tired but happy, dark circles under bright eyes,
and Keith reached for him. Things that hadn’t felt right since
Baz had left clicked into place again, and the warm feeling
Keith got when he thought about Adam joining them soon
convinced him they were definitely right to be making this
long-term. The three of them together was like a magic
formula.

“I missed you,” Keith murmured into Baz’s hair, and Baz
heaved a giant sigh against him.

“I missed you too.” Baz lifted his face and brushed a kiss
over Keith’s jaw. Warmth trickled through him from the
contact, and he pressed an answering kiss to Baz’s cheek,
right under his eye. “Where’s Adam?”

After another kiss to Baz’s nose, Keith murmured, “He’s on
his way. Or should be.”

Baz slid his arms around Keith’s waist, melting into him.
“Think he’d mind if we don’t wait for him?”

Arousal sparked in his blood for the first time in a month,
making him dizzy with the rush. He slid his hand down to the
curve of Baz’s ass, kneading and lifting, and Baz groaned,
openmouthed. Keith couldn’t help kissing him deep and
hard, hands clutching without grace or finesse. When Baz
ground his hips into Keith’s, he broke the kiss, gasping for
air.

“On the bed?” Baz panted, sounding hopeful, and Keith
backed him toward the mattress. He pushed Baz down on
top of the blanket and crawled over him, peppering his face
and neck with kisses. He could feel his dick getting hard,
twinges of pain and pleasure and relief running through him.

He shoved his hand under Baz’s shirt, shuddering at the
slide of skin, and Baz took the hint, sitting up enough to get
the shirt over his head. He didn’t stop there, reaching for
the button on his jeans, and Keith sat back and watched,

one hand flexing on Baz’s stomach as Baz wriggled out of
the pants. He was wearing fitted black underwear that
framed and lifted his dick and balls, and Keith felt raw
hunger flood him.

He bent down and mouthed Baz’s cock through the fabric
before pulling the underwear off and sliding them down to
Baz’s knees. He felt Baz squirming underneath him as he
kicked them the rest of the way off, and then Keith
swallowed him down, one hand caressing and rolling his
testicles, the other stroking the base of his cock. He
hummed around the flesh in his mouth, and Baz bucked
helplessly.

“Fuck me,” Baz whimpered. “I’m already—I’m ready. Fuck
me.”

Without taking his mouth off Baz’s dick, Keith slid his hand
down to feel his hole, and heat burst in his chest when he
discovered that Baz meant that literally. He’d prepared
himself before he’d come, slick with lube, hole relaxed and
warm around Keith’s fingers.

He pulled away from Baz’s dick and sat back, tearing at his
pants. “Turn over, baby,” he demanded breathlessly.
“Wanna fuck you into the mattress.”

Baz scrambled to obey, on his elbows and knees, face in
the blanket and ass in the air.

“Fuck

yes

.” Keith spat into his hand and slicked his cock,

then knee-walked forward until he was pressed against
Baz. He thrust in, too eager to be gentle, and Baz hissed in
pain. Keith tried to apologize, but all he got out was a grunt.
Bright colors were popping everywhere, so welcome after
weeks of nothing but muddy darkness, like fireworks in his
chest. He was breathless and blind with the relief that
swamped him as his hips took over, thrusting him into Baz.

He could tell that he wasn’t going to last more than a few
seconds, already on the ragged edge of pleasure. He could
hear Baz’s voice, muffled and indistinct over the roar of
blood in his ears, and then he was coming, hips jerking as
his orgasm ripped through him. It was more pain than
euphoria, sharp and bitter like the first streak of heat over
frozen flesh, and it left him drained.

He slumped forward and sucked in a deep breath, then
coughed as Baz’s elbow dug into his rib.

“Get

off

me!”

Keith’s thoughts felt scattered, like threads of logic floating
on a breeze, but he tried to collect himself enough to pay
attention to Baz.

“Dammit,

get off

!”

He finally heard the tremor in Baz’s voice, the bare note of

panic, and sat back.

Shit

. That had been rougher than he’d

intended. It was like something had taken over, and he
hadn’t even thought about how Baz must be feeling. Regret
sucker-punched him, and he felt sick to his stomach at the
thought of hurting Baz.

“Shit, I’m sorry, kitten,” he said as he pulled out carefully. He
saw Baz’s reddened asshole, and the guilt twisted deeper
in his gut. Then thick, white liquid trickled out, and a frisson
of panic spread through him.

Once he was out, Baz pushed himself off the bed, avoiding
any contact with Keith, and began gathering up his clothes
with shaky hands. He wouldn’t look at Keith, and cum was
running down the inside of his leg.

“Oh God.” The words caught in his throat, choking him. “Oh

God

, Baz, I’m so—I’m so sorry.”

Baz didn’t respond, pulling on clothes haphazardly with
short, jerky movements.

“Baz…”

Finally, fully dressed, bare toes curling into the hotel carpet,
Baz paused. He turned his face just enough that Keith could
see his expression but still didn’t make eye contact.

“I—I need to go. Tell…tell Adam…”

All the blood in Keith’s body ran ice-cold at the thought of
Adam knowing what he’d done. Baz finished his sentence
and didn’t wait for a response before leaving the room. For
all that he had every right to slam the door behind him, it
slid closed with a soft, condemning

click

.

It was all Keith could do to get to the bathroom before he
threw up.

Chapter Twenty-five

Adam almost didn’t recognize him at first, hunched over
and walking quickly away from the front door of the hotel.
He looked so harried and hunted that Adam couldn’t help
the uncertainty in his voice when he called out,
“Sebastian?”

Sebastian paused for a bare moment, nothing more than a
hesitation in his step that could have been a stumble if not
for the way he glanced over his shoulder. But he didn’t stop,
didn’t acknowledge Adam’s call with more than that. In fact,
if anything, he walked faster, hands shoved in his pockets,
head low.

“Sebastian!”

His walk turned into a run as he made a beeline for the
parking lot, for a car with a weirdly faded paint job, and

Adam’s hint of worry exploded. He was torn between going
after Sebastian and running up to the room to check on
Keith, but since Sebastian was already getting into his car,
ignition starting with a vengeance before the door was even
closed, Adam took that as a sign that Sebastian didn’t want
his attention.

Instead Adam strode into the hotel, doing his best not to
break into a run until he was out of sight of the concierge
and the other guests. He punched the button for the
elevator, but when the door didn’t open right away, he
broke for the stairs instead, taking them two at a time as he
raced up to the third floor.

He missed the slot with the keycard the first two times he
tried to unlock the door, then pushed his way into the room
on the third try, looking around for any sign of his lover.

“Keith?”

The sound of retching greeted him from the bathroom, and
he stepped around the corner to find Keith sprawled in front
of the toilet, jeans around his thighs, his skin frighteningly
pale.

“Babe?” Adam stepped forward cautiously, trying to catch
any sign of awareness in his eyes. He looked stunned,
gaze dull and unfocused. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Keith managed to look up at him then, but he still didn’t

speak. “I saw Sebastian leaving. He looked upset. Did
something…go wrong?”

Keith laughed harshly, but the bitter smile quickly twisted
into a frown. “Yeah. I… Fuck.” Keith was shaking, and
Adam lowered himself to the floor beside him. A quick
glance in the toilet bowl showed that whatever Keith had
been retching up, it hadn’t consisted of a lot of food. He
probably hadn’t eaten much that day, like every other day
for the past few weeks.

“Can you…tell me about it?” Adam ventured, taking one of
Keith’s hands between both of his. The flesh was chilled,
and Adam rubbed briskly, trying to warm him up. He locked
down all the feelings of panic, shut them behind an open
face and a helpful expression, and tried to focus on getting
Keith calm enough to tell him the story.

Keith watched the motion for long moments before he
nodded shortly and took a deep breath. “I… He showed up.
We… I was happy to see him. I was actually turned on.”
Keith’s eyes flicked up uncertainly, checking Adam’s
expression. He nodded. He knew what a big deal it was for
Keith to have felt arousal, the way things were going lately.
He felt a little stab of envy, but that clearly wasn’t the point of
this story.

“Go on.”

“So we were kissing. Making out. It got serious. He took his
clothes off, asked me to fuck him, said he was already
prepared. And he was. And I just… I don’t know what
happened. I don’t remember anything except this rush of…
Anyway, so I fuck him. I come almost as soon as I get
inside him, hair-trigger. Next thing I know, he’s struggling,
trying to get me off of him. He’s really upset. So I get off
him.” Keith took a deep breath, his fingers flexing in
Adam’s grip. When he spoke again, his voice trembled.
“That’s when I noticed I…wasn’t wearing a condom.”

A chill spread through Adam’s stomach, and he stopped
rubbing Keith’s hand. “Did he not realize it before you
came?”

“I’m not sure he had time. But maybe he did. Maybe he was
even telling me to stop, and I didn’t hear him. Oh God,
Adam, I…” He stopped, sniffed, and Adam could tell he
was on the verge of something, maybe tears, maybe a
breakdown. For a moment, Adam thought he might not be
the only one. He pulled on Keith’s hand, guiding him closer
so he could put both arms around him and hold him.

“Shh, baby. Shh.” He kissed Keith’s hair, fighting to keep
his own breathing steady as his adrenaline ebbed, leaving
him trembling in its wake. “We get tested every six months
anyway, you know, and we’ve never had a problem.”

“But what if there

is

a problem? What if I got something

from one of the guys we slept with since then?” He leaned
more fully against Adam’s chest and whispered, “What if I
got Baz sick?”

“Then…I guess we’ll deal with it. You probably didn’t,
though.” He rubbed Keith’s back. “We’ll get another test
done and give Sebastian the results. Pay for him to get his
own test. It’ll be okay.”

Keith clung to him for a while before he said, “But what if he
was saying no, and I didn’t hear him? I don’t… I don’t think
he’s going to be okay being with someone who r…did that
to him.”

Assurances died on Adam’s lips. He’d seen Sebastian
leaving, and he

had

been upset. “I guess we’ll have to play

it by ear.” He hugged Keith closer, one hand rubbing up
and down his back, and tried not to think too hard about all
the things that could go wrong.

* * * *

Sebastian had told Adam when they arrived where his
apartment building was and what number he lived in. It had
been done with the expectation that if Sebastian’s
roommate needed to borrow his car, Adam and Keith could
come pick him up to take him to the hotel. He wasn’t sure
the invitation to show up still stood, but he’d had their doctor

fax his and Keith’s last blood test results to the hotel, and
he was determined to deliver them to Sebastian.

It had only been a few hours since Sebastian had left, and
he wondered if he shouldn’t give the kid a little more time,
but in the end, he drove over anyway. Keith stayed in the
car as Adam climbed the steps to the second floor and
knocked on door 207. He had texted Sebastian to let him
know they were coming so he wouldn’t answer the door and
be surprised. Adam hoped he answered the door at all.

Just when he was about to give up and slide the papers
under the door, it swung open to reveal a hard-eyed, stony-
faced young man about Sebastian’s age. He blocked the
doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and met Adam’s
gaze without flinching.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

Adam nodded. “You’re his roommate, then? Jason, was
it?” He held out the folder that contained the results, and
Jason took it. “These are the most recent blood test results
for me and Keith. We’re getting tested again as soon as
we can find someone local to give us an appointment, but
we thought he might like to have these. We’re both negative
on everything.”

He turned to go but then paused, looking back at Jason.
“We

are

careful. Tell him we’re sorry, and we’re staying in

town for another few days if he wants to see us or talk. If he
doesn’t, we understand.”

Jason didn’t give any indication that he would do that, and
Adam continued down the steps, pausing only when he
heard Jason call out, “Wait.”

He stopped, looking up, and waited.

“Are you just fucking with him? Because I don’t give a fuck
what

TV Guide

says about your show or how many albums

your boyfriend sells. Baz is my friend, and I

do

give a fuck

about him and what happens to him.”

Adam made a point of turning to face Jason straight on,
opening his stance and his face to be as honest as
possible. “So do I. So does Keith.” He took a deep breath.
“We’re not just fucking with him. We’re serious. But there
are complications, and something happened today. I don’t
know how much he’s told you, so I’ll leave it at that. If that’s
too much for him, I understand, but believe me when I tell
you, letting him go will hurt like hell.”

Jason studied him for long moments more before he finally
nodded. “Good.”

He went back into the apartment and closed the door, and
Adam made it halfway back to the car before he let himself
stop and look back at the apartment. There was someone
watching him in one of the darkened windows. Even with

watching him in one of the darkened windows. Even with
the glow from the streetlamp, Adam couldn’t see his face,
but he thought the figure was too short to be Jason. He
stood where he was, staring at the silhouette until the
curtain twitched back into place.

When he got back into the car, Keith was sitting so stiffly in
the passenger’s seat that he could have been a carved
statue. Adam waited for a moment, listening to the soft hum
of the engine and the heater, and watched him. Finally,
when Keith didn’t even look at him, he asked, “You okay?”

Keith took a deep, shuddering breath and shook his head.
“Look, I… All this time, I’ve told you I didn’t want to get
treatment for this.”

Adam’s heart stopped before it skipped a beat, but he
didn’t dare let himself start hoping yet. He held his tongue
and waited.

“I kept telling myself I wasn’t anything like my father. Wasn’t
like that Cameron Bryce asshole. Sure, I had shit days, but I
could handle it. I could minimize the damage. My old man
never quit drinking. I did. I knew my boundaries, my limits. I
didn’t hurt anyone.” His stony mask cracked, and his
eyebrows drew together. “Until today.” He turned, meeting
Adam’s eyes, and the pain in his own was heartbreaking.
“The thing is, I love you, and I hurt you all those years ago. I
told myself it was the drinking, but that just made something
worse that was already there. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with

Baz, and I hurt him today. If we’re lucky, the long-term
effects won’t be anything worse than a bad scare, but I

hurt

him.”

Adam reached over and laid his hand over one of Keith’s
clenched fists. It was like holding a rock.

“My fucking career isn’t worth hurting people. ‘Keeping a
low profile’ can go to hell if it means I have to make choices
that put the people I love in danger.” His hand relaxed
enough to let Adam’s fingers curl into his palm. “When we
get back to LA, I’ll go see a therapist. My father never got
treatment because he was too damn proud to admit he had
a problem, even after the doctors told him he did. If I’m
going to be better than him, I’m going to stop acting like
him. And if Grissom or my label has a problem with that,
they can sue me for breach of contract and go find
themselves some other rock star.”

Gratefulness and affection unwound in Adam’s heart, and
he leaned over to kiss Keith gently on the cheek. Years of
fighting over and avoiding the topic were finally coming to
an end, and Adam couldn’t help but feel that his faith in the
man in front of him had finally been vindicated.

“Just so you know,” he said gruffly, “I love you, and no
matter what happens, I will

not

go looking for another rock

star.” When Keith gave him a watery smile, he planted a
soft kiss on his lips. “One’s about all I can handle of you.”

Keith leaned into him, pressing their foreheads together,
and after a few moments, he asked quietly, “Now what?”

“Now we wait. Ball’s in Sebastian’s court. He’ll either call us
or he won’t. In the meantime, we’re going to go get tested
again, and we’ll send those results to him.” He gently
disentangled himself from Keith and put the car in gear. As
he pulled out of the parking lot, he added, “And we’ll keep
our fingers crossed that everything goes as well as it
possibly can.”

Chapter Twenty-six

“It can take a few weeks for things to show up on the tests
after your first exposure,” the nurse said as she swiped an
alcohol pad over the inside of Sebastian’s elbow, wiping
away the pinprick of blood that welled there. “So it’s safest
if you come back in six weeks to have the panel run again
to be sure.”

Sebastian nodded, watching as she pressed a cotton ball
to the puncture wound and taped it with medical tape. “How
long will it take to get the results from this panel?”

“The test will take anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two
hours. Most people don’t want a call unless something
shows up.” She gave him a searching look. “Would you like

to be notified either way?”

“Yes, please.” He brushed his fingertips over the cottonball
and tape. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled at him as he left the little
room. “Have a good day.”

I fucking hope so

. “You too.” The truth was, he didn’t know

how any day could be good until he knew what he was
facing. And even if he was fine—the papers Jason had
given him last night, that Adam had brought over, said that
Keith and Adam were both negative—he still had to decide
what to do about everything else. He had a lot to think about
it, and it nagged at him all the way home from the clinic.

Adam had warned him that Keith had problems, but he
hadn’t been expecting Keith to ignore him when he’d tried
to get him to stop. Then again, it had all happened so

fast

.

Sebastian had barely realized what was going on before
Keith was coming, and then the panic had twisted in him so
painfully that he’d had to get out. Still, Sebastian had said

stop

, and Keith hadn’t stopped.

He’d explained it to Jason in halting phrases, forcing the
words out past a throat that was almost too tight to breathe.
“

He seemed so shocked afterward, like he hadn’t realized

it. And maybe he didn’t. I don’t know. All I know is it scared
me—bad

.”

He remembered Adam telling him when they’d first slept
together—a lifetime ago, it felt like—that he and Keith really
had broken up once, but it hadn’t been over any of the
alleged cheating. Now he wondered if it was over
something like this. Had Keith hurt someone like this
before? Had Keith hurt

Adam

?

Even underneath the echoes of his own fear, he felt a
twinge of sympathy. He knew Keith, knew how much he
cared. He remembered the horror on Keith’s face as he’d
realized what had happened, the tremor in his voice and his
hands. He already knew he wasn’t going to hold this
against him, but he also wasn’t sure he could commit to a
relationship under those circumstances.

He fiddled with the edges of the medical tape as he waited
for the light to change so he could turn in to his apartment
complex. Jason had said Keith and Adam would be in town
for a few more days, that they would be waiting for him if he
wanted to talk to them. Did he want to? No, that was a
stupid question. If he didn’t have some kind of closure to
this, it would always bother him. He

would

talk to them; he

just didn’t know when.

He would wait until he had the results of the tests, and then
he would call and ask them to meet him somewhere.
Somewhere in public, in a wide-open space.

God, I hope it’s only twenty-four hours.

* * * *

Keith looked haggard, like he hadn’t slept since Sebastian
had seen him two days ago. Adam looked tired too, but he
seemed relaxed, almost happy. Adam set their little plastic
order number on the table and pulled his chair up closer to
the table. It was a sunny day, warm for early February, but it
was still cold enough that they were the only ones outside
on the patio.

Nobody seemed to know how to start the small talk, and
Sebastian almost laughed at the absurdity of it. He
wondered if it would have been this awkward if the
conversation had happened three days before, when it was
supposed to. So much had changed in so little time, and
yet not much had changed at all.

Keith cleared his throat and braced his elbows on the table
as he leaned forward earnestly. “I want to start off by saying
I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I wasn’t…all there that day. If I
had realized… It’s no excuse, but I didn’t know I was hurting
you. I am so sorry.”

Sebastian nodded, stiff and awkward but relieved. “Thank
you. I—I had wondered if… Anyway, thank you.”

“We got our more recent test results,” Adam said. “They’re

negative. The last time we had sex with anyone except you
was about two months ago, so anything from those
encounters should have shown up by now.”

Sebastian sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. “My
initial results are negative too. I’m still going to get retested
in six weeks, just in case, but—that takes a lot off my mind.
Thank you.”

With that unpleasant business out of the way, they fell into
silence once more, and Sebastian fiddled with the edge of
a napkin. He knew they were all waiting to broach the same
subject—what was going to happen to their relationship?—
but he didn’t know how to break the ice, and apparently
neither did anyone else.

And then Keith started talking, and Sebastian realized he’d
been completely wrong.

“When I was growing up, my father was an alcoholic. It
wasn’t until years later, until he was in a nursing home,
slowly dying, that I found out he also had bipolar disorder.
They called it manic depressive back then. He’d never
been treated. As far as I know, he never knew he had it. By
the time we found that out, he was practically on death’s
doorstep anyway.”

Sebastian stared at Keith, but his gaze was fixed on the
table. He glanced at Adam and got a nod and an

encouraging smile, then focused on Keith again as he
continued talking.

“Apparently, bipolar is as hereditary as alcoholism. I went
into treatment for alcoholism three years ago—the only time
Adam and I have ever broken up. I hurt him, he left me, and I
drank myself damn near into a coma. I went to rehab.” He
scratched the back of his neck, looking distinctly
uncomfortable. “While I was in rehab, the therapist
suggested I might have bipolar as well. He wanted me to
see someone, maybe see about going on medication. My
manager threw a fit.”

Keith paused while the server stopped at their table and
passed out their sandwiches and soup. Once she’d gone
back inside and they’d all started on their food, Adam
giving Keith a pointed look, Keith continued between
spoonfuls of soup.

“Anyway, long story short, I got told mental illness kills sales
and record deals, and if I knew what was good for me, I’d
keep a lid on it. And I didn’t fight it too hard. I didn’t want to
admit I was like my old man—I

hated

him—and I thought I

could keep it under control.”

Keith paused, stirring his soup thoughtfully, and then he
finally looked up and made eye contact with Sebastian. His
expression was so open, so vulnerable, that Sebastian
could do nothing but sit and wait to hear what he had to say.

“I was wrong, and I was an idiot. When Adam and I go back
to LA, I’m going to see a therapist, probably start taking
medication. I’m going to take care of this as best as I can.
What happened the other day was my fault. If I hadn’t been
so stubborn, I might have had help dealing with this
clusterfuck in my head before now, and maybe you wouldn’t
have been hurt.”

Sebastian felt his breath catch in his chest and looked
down at his burger and fries, waiting until the tightness
around his rib cage eased. When he could breathe again,
he nodded and looked up. “I’m glad you’re going to get help
—for yourself if for nothing else. And thank you for telling
me. That means a lot.”

Keith looked disappointed, but he focused on his soup
instead. Adam watched them both carefully and finally
spoke up.

“I know from experience that taking a chance on something
like this isn’t easy, and if you feel like it isn’t worth it, no one
will blame you.” He fidgeted with his water glass, and
Sebastian watched him carefully. On closer examination,
despite his relaxed demeanor, Adam’s exhaustion was
more visible. Dark circles under his eyes and deepened
lines beside his mouth emphasized the slump of his
shoulders, and Sebastian felt suddenly, oddly protective.
“Keith and I have maintained balance in our relationship, for
the most part, but even with treatment and medication,

there will be problems. Not just because of Keith’s bipolar
or my tendency to ignore my needs to take care of
everyone else, but we’re three men in a society where even
two men together is a test of people’s tolerance and
understanding.”

“You sound like you’re trying to talk me out of it,” Sebastian
said wryly.

Adam’s laugh was dry and a touch bitter. “No, but I do want
you to know for sure what you’re getting into. Even if things
between

us

work well, it won’t be a walk in the park. And

you don’t have to make a decision now. Take your time and
think about it.”

Sebastian gathered his courage and took a deep breath. “I
don’t know if I ever told you, but I’m a journalism major.
That’s a conflict of interests to your careers right there,
although I’d never sell you out.” Keith glanced up sharply,
surprise on his features. Adam waited, eating his sandwich
and seeming to keep an eye on how much Keith was
eating. Sebastian looked more closely at Keith’s sallow
complexion and wondered if he’d been skipping meals on
top of everything else. “I live in Charlotte. You’re in LA. The
press already knows about me. If I start showing up with you
guys a lot, they’re never going to believe that I’m just a
friend. We’ll be outed by default.”

He waited, watching them for reactions, but neither of them

seemed troubled by any of this. Finally, Adam put his
sandwich down and wiped his hands on his napkin.

“In all of that,” he said slowly, “I didn’t hear anything about
how you feel or what you want. I think if we all know what we
want, we can deal with the outside issues from that
perspective.”

Sebastian could suddenly feel every cold, tingly bit of skin
where the sun wasn’t enough to warm him against the
breath of winter inside his body. The idea of laying his
cards on the table

first

, of telling them that he dreamed

about them, that he missed them, that he longed for them—
it was fucking terrifying, no matter how much of a gesture
they’d made by flying all the way out to Charlotte to have
this conversation.

But then he thought of Keith facing the wrath of his manager
and possibly his label to go to therapy because he’d hurt
Sebastian. He thought of Adam and his infinite patience,
his care for Sebastian, his constant insistence that
Sebastian be taken care of in any situation, and he
decided he was brave enough.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think I might be falling in love with
both of you. Well, might have already fallen. A little. Or a lot.”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how the fuck we can
make this work, but I think I want to try. I know that I tried to
move on when I got home, when I thought y’all were done

with me, and I couldn’t. I don’t want to. I want to ride this—
whatever it is—between us as far as it will go. That’s what I
want.”

Adam smiled like he’d just found a Christmas present he’d
forgotten to open, and Keith dropped his spoon to the
saucer under his soup bowl.

“We feel exactly the same,” Adam assured him as Keith got
out of his chair and came around the table.

To Sebastian’s everlasting surprise, Keith got down on one
knee beside his chair and laid one hand carefully over
Sebastian’s.

“I want you to know,” Keith murmured, “this is not a game to
us. We are not playing with you.”

“O-okay,” Sebastian stammered, still stunned to see Keith
kneeling, bloodshot eyes looking up at him earnestly, and
then Keith leaned in closer.

“I’d really like it,” he said softly, “if I could kiss you now.”

Sebastian nodded, but then Adam was leaning into his
personal space, his chair scraping over the concrete patio
as it tilted with him.

“Hang on now,” he protested. “I’m not getting left out of this.”

Sebastian kissed Keith first, then Adam, both of them brief,
chaste kisses that could almost be mistaken for brotherly.
He was intensely glad for the full-size advertisement panels
hiding them from the inside diners, but even so, he was
aware that the server might come back out at any moment.

They seemed satisfied enough with the token, and Keith
got up and went back to his seat. They sat in silence as
they ate, although Sebastian had a hard time swallowing
around the giddy feeling bubbling up in his throat. When he
dared to look up, he found two sets of eyes watching him,
two matching smiles turned on him, and suddenly the
February air didn’t feel quite as chilled.

For the first time, he dared to hope that it just might work
out after all.

Loose Id Titles by M. Jules Aedin

Lovegames

Paper Planes

M. Jules Aedin

M. Jules is an over-the-top, outrageous, awe-inspiring
smart ass who entertains the masses. She is sharp and
witty and also a bit of a troublemaker. She has a modest
home on the outskirts of the space-time continuum, which
makes meeting deadlines something of a challenge. She
was once Miss America, but thankfully she woke up and
discovered that it was only a very bad dream. She cohabits
with two feline companions and an entourage of imaginary
friends, and at night she shares her bed with a stack of
books that would make any librarian green with envy.
Especially if it was a pervy librarian.

You can find M. Jules all over the Internet, starting with
http://mjules.net. From there, it’s anybody’s guess, but you
might try her other cyber haunts:

Twitter—http://twitter.com/mjaedin

LiveJournal—http://mjaedin.livejournal.com

Yahoo! Group—http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mjules/

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Loose Id Titles by M. Jules Aedin

M. Jules Aedin