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The best way he could describe it was overwhelming, devastatingly painful desire. He’d never looked at a man through less than straight eyes, never studied the male physique and gotten fucking hard from it, but the image of Conor’s thick, hard cock, jutting upward, bouncing against his tight stomach, sent his imagination down some wicked, dirty paths.
Conor was a desk jockey, but there was no denying the past few weeks had changed that, had hardened his body, defined some muscles, now that he was doing manual labor every Saturday, as well as running with Harper.
Conor held their gazes, not shying away from the fact he was the only one naked. He let them look their fill before tilting his head. “You two are good for the soul. No one’s ever looked at me like…”
“Like they’re going to die if you don’t fuck them in the next few minutes?” Harper asked.
Conor snorted. “Yeah. Like that.”
Luca appreciated the humor, but he’d be damned if he could join in on the joke. Harper had overestimated how much time they needed. He wasn’t counting in minutes, rather in seconds.
Reaching for the tab, he drew down the zipper at the back of Harper’s dress. Once it cleared the small of her back, the shimmery material fell loose, gravity taking it straight to the floor. She’d kicked off her heels the second they’d walked into the bedroom, which left her in a black strapless bra and tiny thong.
“Fuck,” Conor breathed, his gaze traveling the length of her body.
If there was something that turned Luca on more than anything, it was confidence, and the fact Harper and Conor were both standing there without seeking to cover themselves, comfortable in their own skin, ramped up Luca’s desire for them even more. Something he wouldn’t have thought possible.
Luca remained behind her, his hands grazing her sides as he looked over her shoulder, treated to a bird’s-eye view of her breasts, framed by the lacy bra.
She’d gained weight since moving to Philadelphia. Not a surprising thing, considering she was determined to make up for too many years of dieting. He was glad because, in his opinion, she’d been rail thin before, and knowing that she’d once collapsed due to overwork and starving herself, he planned to help her understand just how fucking beautiful she was right now. Her body was changing, filling out in all the best ways. She had curves that he couldn’t wait to race his lips and hands and tongue over, her tits were larger, her newly rounded ass utterly spankable.
Luca unfastened her bra, dropping it onto the discarded dress, then he knelt behind her, slipping his fingers into the elastic of her thong, pulling it off as well.
Rather than rise immediately, Luca sank his teeth in, nipping one of her ass cheeks until she yelped, then he soothed the red spot with a wet kiss.
Standing, Luca watched as Conor reached out for Harper, clasping hands with her, drawing her over to his bed. Luca teased Conor about his Midas-like wealth, but he was grateful for it now as the two of them sank down on the side of his California king.
“Your turn.” Conor tilted his head at him, even though Luca already had the bow tie unknotted.
He quickly shed his jacket and shirt, tossing them over the arm of a chair. He saw their eyes drink in his tattoos.
Harper crooked her finger at him, beckoning him over. He stepped in front of them as they each reached for an arm, running their fingers over his tattoos.
“I love these,” Harper whispered.
“Me and Gio got our first ink together when we were sixteen. Had to badger our dad for months to sign the consent form. He finally agreed, but only if we chose small designs that were completely hidden under our shirts.”
Conor snorted. “Guess that rule didn’t stick.”
Luca grinned. “We followed it every time we convinced him to let us go back. After our eighteenth birthdays, though, it was on like Donkey Kong. Gio’s got full sleeves on his arms too.”
“Totally sexy,” Harper said, Conor nodding in agreement.
“There’s no way in hell my dad would have ever let me get a tattoo,” Conor said.
“The funniest part is, Dad’s gone with us the last few times, getting several of his own tats—none of which are fully covered by his shirt.”
“Do as I say, not as I do,” Conor murmured.
“Yeah. Something like that.” Stepping back from the bed after letting them look their fill at his ink, Luca wasted no time stripping off his pants, boxers, socks, and shoes.
“Whoa,” Conor said, his gaze slipping down to the tattoos on Luca’s thighs. “Fuck me, you’re hot.”
Luca reveled in their scrutiny, reaching down and fisting his hard cock, loving the way they followed the motion of his hand.
“How does this work?” Harper’s face was flushed. She was looking at Luca for guidance, which thrilled him because if there was something Luca had no trouble doing, it was giving orders in the bedroom.
He glanced at Conor. “Kiss her.”
