“It better be somewhere nice, Mr. Millionaire,” Harrison said with a teasing glint in his eye, his voice low and playful. He trailed his fingers down Jett’s chest, grinning as he added, “I expect to be spoiled rotten. Fancy dinner, mood lighting—the whole deal.”
Jett knew that Harrison wanted nothing of the sort, but there was no way he was giving him any hints.
He was dumb, but he wasn’t that stupid.
“Horseback riding on the beach,” Jett blurted, squirming in Harrison’s arms in a half-hearted attempt to escape. “I’ll even hitch a little wagon behind my horse so you don’t have to strain your leg.”
His sarcasm earned a barking laugh from Harrison. Jett didn’t think anything was hotter than his grumpy boyfriend throwing his head back to laugh at somethinghehad said.
Well, he could think of a few things, but this was one of the only fully clothed options that came to mind.
“You’re a brat,” said Harrison. “I take back everything I said before. I don’t think I’m attracted to you anymore—”
Jett attacked him with a kiss, shoving his tongue into Harrison’s mouth as he tugged him closer with his legs, holding him in place to keep him from leaving. He slid their mouths together, enjoying the way Harrison went from slack-jawed surprise to aggressiveneedin seconds. His hand curled into Jett’s hair to tug his head back, giving himself better access.
Jett whimpered into the kiss, a sound that felt embarrassingly vulnerable, but he couldn’t hold it back. He didn’t know how long this all-consuming passion between them would last, but deep down, he hoped it would never fade.
Hepulled the tie out of Harrison’s hair, partially because he knew it annoyed him, but mostly because he loved it when his hair was down. The strands were so soft and easy to brush his fingers through, and they gave Jett even more leverage to keep Harrison exactly where he wanted him.
Jett was sure he was about to get bent over the counter and fucked right next to the spice rack when a sharp chime echoed through the room, freezing them both in place.
Harrison dropped his head on Jett’s chest with a groan. “Why do you have friends?”
Jett laughed and jumped off the counter, tugging his shirt down to hide the obvious bulge in his pants. Harrison was in a similar state, and they had no time to readjust their clothes and hair. He knew Max was being nice by ringing the doorbell, warning them he was coming in.
“Jetty?”
“You’re good. We have clothes on,” Jett called out, grinning when he heard Max snort a laugh.
Harrison positioned himself strategically behind the kitchen island, glowering at the marble countertop like it had offended him. Jett grinned and earned himself a one-finger salute.
The scuffling sounds near the entryway cut through their bickering, drawing their attention. Jett turned just in time to see Max cautiously stepping into the main living area, his bright eyes wide with curiosity. Jett greeted him with a warm, encouraging smile, hoping to ease whatever tension lingered in the room.
Ryan’s younger brother was a bit shorter than Jett. He didn’t have the same dark blond hair as Ryan, and after seeing family pictures, he knew Max took after their father in appearance. Sun-kissed skin, brown hair and the greenest eyes Jett had ever seen. When people said they had green eyes, they normally had hints that could be mistaken for blue or grey, but Max’s vibrant colour was unmistakable in any light.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” said Max, his gaze darting between him and Harrison. “I can come back later if you two were—”
“You weren’t interrupting,” said Jett. He walked over and threw his arms around Max in a tight hug, knocking the strap of his art case off his shoulder, causing it to fall to the floor with a thump. “I missed you, buddy.”
Jett hadn’t seen Max for a while. Hockey schedules made it difficult to keep an active role in friendships, but he always invited him over for food before he flew out for games. Max was free to come and go as he pleased, and since he lived a few floors down from Jett, it made seeing each other easier.
Max hugged him enthusiastically and smacked him on the back like Ryan always did, mocking his brother. “I watched the game against Montreal. You were awesome. And the one with Calgary—”
Max stopped abruptly and rose onto his tiptoes, craning his neck to peer over Jett’s shoulder toward where Harrison was standing. Even without seeing Max’s face, Jett could tell he was blushing—his cheeks flushed a deep, unmistakable pink. Max’s wide eyes flicked back and forth, clearly caught off guard. “Oh god,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
“Be cool, bro.” Jett got behind Max to keep him from backing out of the room. “Don’t move too fast, and he won’t be able to see you.”
“Shut the fuck up, Fraser.” Max was bracing against him despite his words. “I’m not a spazz. Just let me work up the courage to do this.”
Harrison raised an eyebrow while watching them, and Jett stifled a laugh. They weren’t quiet, so Harrison knew what they were saying, but seemed content to play along.
Max took a deep breath and held it before letting it back out. He squared his shoulders, straightened his posture, and then started marching toward Harrison like he was about to charge him.
Harrison said nothing as the smaller man stopped before him and threw out his hand like he was about to demand his lunch money.
“Nice to meet you, Harrison. My name is Max.”
A smirk slowly crept onto Harrison’s face, and he took Max’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
