“Goddamn.” Rus slapped his hands over Kaiden’s face, enthralled by the feeling.
When Kaiden pulled back to breathe, Rus chased the high for a half second but let him go. Well, he would’ve if Kaiden’s hands hadn’t moved so insistently. While he couldn’t keep himself in place, Kaiden signaled permission by squeezing Rus’ hands until they pressed to Kaiden’s head.
Rus’ teeth chattered as he sucked in a deep breath and rammed Kaiden back down his shaft. The gurgle enticed him, sohe relented just long enough for Kaiden to take in a wispy half breath while his lips were still tightly wrapped around Rus’ dick. Then, Rus shoved him back down, pushing forward at the same time. He humped Kaiden’s face, shoving his cock as far down his throat as possible.
Each thrust put Rus into a deeper frenzy until he couldn’t contain himself. Without warning, Rus shot his load down Kaiden’s throat, releasing a gasping growl with each shot into Kaiden.
“Oh, damn.” Rus wobbled a bit, releasing Kaiden, whose eyes were glossy with tears. “You okay?”
“Hell yeah.” Kaiden wiped away the spit running down his chin and eased back just enough for Rus to move forward.
He took two steps and collapsed onto his bed, panting with satisfaction. But it appeared Dylan wasn’t finished with him quite yet, returning to his ass and continuing to tease his hole.
Rus lay there, lost in the soothing sensation washing over his entire body.
Chapter Nineteen
Jasminehad certainly noticed the shift in Dylan’s demeanor over the last few weeks. More and more of his free time had been spent away from the house, always with the same people. Now, if it’d just been Kaiden, chances were she wouldn’t have suspected Dylan had gotten romantic. Or maybe she noticed his feelings for Kaiden long before he did himself.
In either case, the time he spent with Rus piqued Jasmine’s curiosity. She asked if they were dating. Dylan sort of awkwardly dodged the question since yes, he was, but he didn’t want to elaborate on his poly relationship quite yet. Moreover, he wanted Jasmine to meet Rus outside of his community service obligations. If he planned on declaring his relationship, he wanted Jasmine’s blessing.
So, he arranged for a dinner and game night date to bring Kaiden and Rus over, not too big a challenge since Jasmine hosted family dinner every night of the week, with weekends allowing flexibility for anyone who wanted to go out or just pick at leftovers.
Kaiden pulled up to the house, parking on the street, and walking up with a semi-reluctant Rus. It wasn’t the dinner itself, but Dylan could tell Rus didn’t much like the dress shirt and tie Kaiden had undoubtedly forced him into.
Dylan smirked. Dressing up was not a requirement—they kept things very casual at the house—but Kaiden likely sensed Dylan’s nerves to make a good impression and played his part well.
“Thank you,” Dylan mouthed, to which Kaiden gave a sweet smile in return.
“I can stay for dinner, but I have a shift over at—”
“Is the gallery doing something this evening?” Dylan interrupted.
“Not the gallery.” Kaiden stretched his cheeks into a forced smile. “Retail. The joy of holiday presales.”
Dylan cringed. He very much admired Kaiden’s determination to save up for a place of his own, so much so that he’d taken on a second job, but he also hated how reluctant Kaiden was when it came to accepting a little help.
Honestly, Dylan couldn’t imagine the stress of balancing two jobs at once. His gig at Dorothy’s Home consumed most of his time, though he never really considered itworkwork. He never clocked in or out. He never had to worry about his schedule. Mostly, he just ran errands, arranged moves, organized fundraisers, and helped the teens with schoolwork. Dylan felt more like a chill guncle around the house than a busy worker bee. Even on days when he juggled a hundred different tasks.
It all came down to supporting the house, and that was what mattered to him the most.
Dylan invited Kaiden and Rus inside.
“About time you got here,” Miguel greeted them as they walked inside, his eyes locked onto Rus. “How are you this evening?”
“Fine.”
“I’m not sure if we were ever formally introduced.”
Rus shrugged.
“I’m Miguel Whitley Alvarado-Hernandez, but everyone just calls me”—Miguel made a loud smacking sound with his puckered lips—“mwah.”
Dylan sighed. No one called Miguel that, despite his very desperate efforts to make it his official nickname. Truthfully, his middle name started with a J, but that wouldn’t work for his little kissy-faced flirtations.
“How about a tour?” Miguel stepped closer, and Dylan blocked his path.
“I was just about to introduce him to everyone.”
