Page 113
“You hungry for my cum, is that it?” he groans, his thumb brushing my cheek. “God, your fucking throat.”
Heavy breathing to my left draws my gaze, and I find Logan in a similar position as me, Owen’s cute little cock between his lips. It's fucking hot, to be honest. Enough for me to unbutton my jeans and pull myself out with a slow, lazy stroke.
It doesn’t take long until Christian’s thighs start to quiver, his orgasm imminent. When he mumbles that he’s about to come, I pop off just in time to quickly grab my oatmeal.
“What the fuck are you—” He cuts off into a deep moan when I roughly jack him into the bowl. Thick ropes of cum layer the hot cereal like icing, his cock pulsing in my hand.
Once he’s finally finished, I meet his blown-out gaze as I mix in his release and take a large bite.
“Much better,” I grin, turning to where Logan and Owen both gape at me with their dicks out. Holding the spoon up to Logan’s lips, I pry open his jaw by sticking my thumb in his mouth. “Here. Taste it.”
And he does, all while his boyfriend jerks off to it.
“Holy shit,” Owen whispers, leaking precum onto the carpet.
Before I can take another bite, Christian suddenly hauls me to my feet and puts his chest to my back.
“You dirty fucker,” he hisses, wrapping his hand around my cock. “Only fair I return the favor.”
Scooting us forward, he strokes my length inches from Logan’s face. Owen does the same, and his boyfriend doesn’t seem to know where to look, eyes bouncing between the two dicks in front of him.
I turn my head to give Christian a sloppy kiss, thrusting into his fist as slick sounds and heavy breathing fill the room. It’s not until Owen starts to come that I tip over the edge myself.
Christian growls at Logan to open his mouth just in time for Owen and I to unload onto Logan’s waiting tongue. Our eyes meet briefly when he swallows, then right there in front of us, he bends his boyfriend over the couch and slides effortlessly into his ass. Holy fucking shit.
“You can watch all you want, pastelito,” Christian whispers as he kisses my neck. “And you can share our cum if that’s what gets you off. But no one touches you except for me. Yeah?”
“Right back at you,” I answer, turning to face him fully.
He nods, reaching down to tuck my dick back into my jeans. “Agreed. Nobody else. Still want that shower, or are we out of time?”
Warmth blooms throughout my chest. Those words shouldn’t be a big deal, but the way he says them with so much certainty—like there’s no version of this where he’d choose anyone else… It settles into my blood deeper than I expect.
Being wanted isn’t new. I’ve had people want my body, want the distraction, or the version of me that didn’t ask for anything in return. But this is different.
This is him choosing me on purpose, not because I’m easy or convenient.
But because I’m me.
“We’ve got time,” I tell him, letting my hand drift down his arm to lace our fingers together. “I’ll always make time for you, hot shot. Always.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Christian
The scent of oil and metal fills my nostrils.
I’ve finally got the bike frame bolted together on a stand, stripped and bare. The powertrain sits in front of me—pieces organized and ready to go for the chassis: swing arm, rear shocks, front forks. Everything's waiting for me to coax it into working together.
I just hope I can finish in time.
Despite the early snow outside, I wipe sweat from my brow and line up the mounts meticulously. This part is important. If I rush, it’ll all fail. If I force it, the motherfucker will fight me later. Learned that the hard way when Tay and I messed around with our dirt bikes in high school. My front wheel flew clean the fuck off during a jump and I broke my ankle.
The pieces finally slip into place with a satisfying click, and I nod to myself as I reach for the torque wrench. Before I can continue my work, though, someone clears their throat from behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Logan leaning against the doorframe. “What’s up?”
He shifts his weight almost anxiously. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
