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Kisses tickled Lake’s neck, wet heat puffed against his ear. Lake bucked into the perfect glove of slick friction. Relentlessly plunged into Knight, angling where it made him thrash the most.
Their skin grew damp; their gazes held hungrily, like they wanted to be connected forever. Ecstasy hammered through him, hot in his cock and his chest, and he felt Knight’s pleasure crescendo in time.
He dropped kiss after kiss, wherever his lips landed. He sucked in that wonderful earthy scent. Each shared breath fueled his pleasure. He couldn’t get enough.
“God, Knightly.”
Their gazes hooked, and startling tenderness slammed into Lake, propelling him to a shuddering orgasm. Wave after wave of perfect release spilled into Knight, and Knight tightened around him, stiffening in pleasure, a groan of satisfaction against Lake’s ear as he came between their stomachs.
Lake collapsed over Knight, limp. His cock slipped free, and he lazily drew off the condom, tying and tossing it off the bed. He used the nearest T-shirt to wipe Knight dry, hushing his reprimanding look. Knight gave in with a soft laugh and sagged back against the pillows.
Head resting on Knight’s shoulder, Lake savored the feel of Knight gathering him close and catching a contented breath.
A feathered kiss touched Lake’s forehead. Embraced in each other’s arms, they fell asleep.
When Lake woke, sunlight beamed at the edges of the curtains, and Knight, awake and reading, was haloed in gold.
Once more, Lake had drooled over his stomach, and once more, with a glance under Moby Dick, Knight thought nothing of it.
“There’s no bookmark in here.”
Lake snuck up under Knight’s arm, curling into him. He glanced at the opened book. “Don’t need it anymore, I finished it last night.”
Knight hummed. “In that case, I believe I owe you some praise.”
Lake grinned. “Gimmie. Put the book down.” He lightly bit Knight’s shoulder. “There’s only one Dick I want you holding right now.”
A snorted laugh. Brown eyes blazed, and the book hit the floor . . .
After, Lake tucked himself against Knight’s side. His arm was wrapped around Knight’s belly, and he felt him catching his breath.
Dizzying lightness surged inside Lake, filling him up. Everything had snicked into place, like he and Knight were lock and key.
“What are you thinking?” Knight murmured.
“I’m so happy.” The moment after he said it, guilt punched into him and he lurched upright. “No, I’m not.” At Knight’s confusion, Lake exclaimed, “Harry!”
How had he forgotten?
Lake showered frantically. He needed to find Harry and apologize.
Knight palmed steadying hands on his soap-slippery shoulders and held his gaze through the spray of water.
“He’s probably at his grandma’s. He’ll be okay.”
“Physically, sure. But what about his feelings? You were right all along, Knightly. I should have been more careful. I have to fix this.” Lake grimaced. “Will you help me?”
An hour and a few text messages from Knight to Harry later, Knight cast Lake a grim smile over the dining table.
Lake gulped the last of his coffee. “What’s the matter? Is he okay?”
“Harry’s fine. But you’ve always been sensitive about this, and I’m not sure how you’ll take it.”
Lake’s mind was spiraling. “Take what?”
“He’s staying with Martin.”
Lake blinked.
Knight reached over and caressed the back of his hand. “I know you don’t like them caring for each other, Emerett. But I wish you didn’t see it as forbidden.”
Lake shook his head. “I did find it weird in the beginning, but . . .” He looked into Knight’s eyes. “Love knows no boundaries.” He flipped his hand around, two fingers pressing against Knight’s erratic pulse. “Would you come with me to talk to them?”
Knight did, and Martin welcomed them into his apartment with a hearty smile. He showed them to Harry, who lay with a blanket up to his chin on the couch.
“Should I, er, leave you?” Martin offered.
Lake shook his head. “What I have to say is for both of you.”
That remark had Harry sitting up, frowning.
Lake felt Knight’s warmth behind him, and swallowed.
He pulled torn bits of paper out of his pocket and pieced them together on the glass coffee table. “I pulled these out of the fireplace, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes watered as he read the words on the page.
“You said you were purging yourself of unrequited feelings,” Lake said. “For ages I thought you were referring to Philip. But, you never really cared for Philip, did you?”
Harry shook his head. “I wanted to, but—” He glanced at Martin, flushing.
Martin made a small noise at the back of his throat, and Harry tossed the blankets off his lap and stood. Shyly, he held out his hand to Martin, and Martin’s step stuttered as he grasped it.
Harry drew him to the coffee table. “Every page in my diary was about you.” He glanced guiltily at Lake, but raised his chin defiantly. “I’m sorry, Lake. But—”
“The only sorry should be from me, Harry,” Lake said. “I never should have steered you away from Martin. What you have is yours, and no one’s opinion should take that away.”
