The almost-there tension took over my body. I struggled to fuck faster. Sweat gathered on my skin and dripped down my temples.
“Oh, you’re strangling my cock.” KC panted hard.
“Fuck.” Ren licked his palm and attacked his dick, pecs tensing and balls bouncing against the seat as he fucked up into his fist. His face went red and he bared his teeth.
KC shifted and blasted my prostate head on, stealing my breath and cascading lightning bolts of ecstasy from my groin out to land everywhere, even the tips of my fingers and toes.
Ren’s cum blasted from him, splashing his abs and thighs as he shouted, and then KC kissed me, perfect and sweet, before he fucked as deep into me as he could. The stretch burned so good. His cock swelled in my ass while he whimpered through unloading into the condom. He gripped me so hard while he nutted that I was sure I would have finger-shaped bruises as a souvenir later. But that was exactly what I wanted, so I didn’t say a word, just held on for the ride.
Time passed, I had no idea how much. Ren rolled KC to the side, and I could take full breaths again. In a haze I smiled at him as he cuddled us both, kissing my forehead, then KC’s.
“I really am fucking sorry,” he muttered. He brushed the tip of my nose with a butterfly kiss.
“Good,” I sighed, too wrung out to do anything except let him fuss over me.
“I love you two,” KC whispered.
“Same,” I mumbled.
“Ditto.”
We chuckled as Ren held us like he never wanted to lose us again, which was fine by me.
“I’m gonna order a steak the size of my face.” I sighed happily. “Since I’m not paying.”
“You little—” Ren tickled my sides, and I yelped and tried to fight him off while KC laughed, filling the room with joy.
26
KC
Ren cracked his knuckles, the sound reverberating in the Jeep, making me wince. He sat in the passenger seat beside me, his spine straight, shoulders tight, and jaw so tense I waited to hear the snap of his teeth breaking. He had a hand on his knee, the muscles in his arm taut and his fingers flexing.
When I came to a stop in front of A Barber for Kings—Barber’s shop—I turned off the ignition and laid my palm on top of his hand, smiling. “It’ll be okay.”
“Barber’s a good guy,” Oli agreed from the back seat. He rubbed soothing circles on Ren’s shoulder, a comfort I could tell was working because the tension in Ren began to fade.
“He’s not going to punch the shit out of me?” Ren pointed at his nose. The swelling had finally gone down from Pa’s attack. He’d already argued that he hadn’t been prepared for Pa, and if he’d known Pa would resort to violence, he would’ve reacted faster.
“No. Believe it or not, Barber’s thelessviolent one,” I said. To an extent. Barber would still fight for the people he loved. UnlikePa, he’d use his gun and bike to commit the crimes. “If you give him the chance, he could be the brother you remember.”
Ren glanced toward the shop, expression thoughtful. I gave him all the time he needed. Ren was emotionally constipated, and while he’d been open about his feelings with us when we’d forced it on him, I expected talking to Barber would be harder. They had grown up in the same home, with the same negligent parents. Speaking about feelings wasn’t in their skillset.
Oli replaced his hand with his cheek on Ren’s shoulder, staying silent and offering our boyfriend the support he needed. If he wanted to be with us, then he needed to bury the hatchet with Barber. It needed to be buried so deep there was no chance for it to resurface. Oli and I wouldn’t go through this again. We’d agreed.
“Let’s do this.” Ren petted Oli’s chin, fingers smoothing over his cheek, before taking a deep breath in a sign that he was ready to face his demons. Or, in this case, his brother.
Ren exited the Jeep and I followed him. Oli and Ren were already on the sidewalk by the time I got around to them. Oli had his hand in Ren’s, fingers curled until his knuckles were white, while Ren had his other hand held out in my direction, waiting for me to join them. Once my fingers were securely threaded with his, he marched forward like a player heading toward a touchdown. He was ready for the win.
He kicked open the shop door with his foot, his grip on my hand tightening.
Barber was waiting on the other side, sitting in the chair usually reserved for his clients. I’d warned him we were coming, and Barber gave me a simple thumbs-up in response, which was weird for him. Anyone who knew Barber knew he was the biggest shit stirrer known to man, and I couldn’t remember a time when I’d seen him be serious. But he certainly seemed serious about this. Maybe because he’d been accused of beingthe reason someone died by suicide. Or maybe because this was his little brother, the one sibling he appeared to like. Though, he’d never mentioned Ren.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard Barber talk about his family in California before Ren had shown up. Maybe that was his way of coping.
Barber’s arms were crossed when we entered. His stare dropped to our connected hands briefly, then returned to Ren’s bruised face. The marks were faded out to a sickly yellowish green.
“Quain do that to you?” The corner of his mouth ticked. “You look prettier.”
