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He swallowed hard and tried to remember what they had been talking about. Right. Triangle head’s brain. “There’s just no plausible way that it could be at the back of his head,” he said, voice a little hoarse, “because that space is smaller than hiseye,and if that was the case, he couldn’t possibly be that clever.”
“Having a large brain isn’t a sign of intelligence,” Peyton said. “At least eighty percent of the population is proof of that.”
A laugh escaped Jericho. Too right.
Will’s hand tightened on his knee as he wobbled from the vibrations. His head slipped down Jericho’s chest. His lanky body moved with the motion, stretching out over the couch as he curled into Jericho’s lap. It looked awkward as fuck, with most of one leg draped over the arm and the other over the side. The couch wasn’t made for three grown men—one of whom was closer to seven feet than six and lying sideways—and a beagle that took up way more room than they should have. Jericho had seen Great Dane’s take up less room than Persephone. One of her legs had slipped between Peyton’s and was jabbing Jericho in the thigh.
Peyton brushed strands of hair from Will’s forehead, his knuckles ghosting across his temple. “He can sleep like the dead when he’s comfortable.” His eyes met Jericho’s, the dark blue seeming even darker under the dim lighting, a black that he could easily get lost in. “I guess you make him comfortable.”
Jericho had no answer for that. None that he could articulate. He felt it too. A comfort, ease, and familiarity that shouldn’t have been there. Not like this. Not when they’d only just met. Will shooting him when he was acting as a different person didn’t count. Jericho was aware how different he was when he was in another skin. He did that on purpose. None of whohewas came out; he retreated fully into whoever he needed to be, turning off everything that made himhim. It was the only way for him to survive. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally.
“I kissed him.” No. That was too vague. Peyton knew that he’d kissed Will during sex. “Now,” he clarified. “Just the two of us.”
Peyton’s face closed, and he stared down at Will’s sleeping form. His fingers tightened around Jericho almost painfully.
Jericho braced himself. Was this the moment that Peyton snapped and punched him? He would deserve it. He had no claims here, was stepping in territory that was already spoken for.
“Okay.”
Had he just…? “Okay?” he repeated dumbly.
“Did you force him?”
Everything in Jericho recoiled. “The fuck?No.”
“Then okay. He’s not my property, and I trust him. He would never do anything to hurt me, and I know that. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. And he knew that I wouldn’t get upset over it.”
Jericho didn’t understand any of these men. “Why not?”
Peyton licked his lips. “Because I want to kiss you too.”
“You said one night,” was all Jericho could think to say, his words uttered on a breathy whisper.One night. It was safer. For them. Forhim.
“I think it’s technically still the same night,” Peyton said.
Jericho leaned closer, Peyton echoing him. The anticipation would kill him. His pulse beat in his throat, a steady thrum as heat swamped him. “When is the expiry hour? Five a.m.? Six a.m.?”
Peyton hovered over him, their breath mingling. Jericho’s lower lip trembled, the urge to close the distance a physical ache.
“Probably more like eleven a.m.,” Peyton whispered. “Hotel checkout time.”
A moan slipped out as their lips met in a wet, greedy, open-mouthed kiss. Jericho tilted his chin, changing the angle. His groin tightened as Peyton took control with long, sure strokes of his tongue. He was young—Jericho tried not to think about how much older, at thirty-seven, he was than Peyton—but he knew what to do with his mouth. And with a gun. And with those hands. And with his dick.
Jericho could feel his own hardening, just thinking about all the ways that Peyton was competent. He liked a guy that knew what he was doing. All four men ticked that box multiple times over. Not something for him to dwell on. He was only here temporarily. The quicker they could work out who had decided Sebastian was once again a target, the sooner he would go back to his regularly scheduled life.
He didn’t need four sexy-as-sin men complicating any of that.
“You can do that whenever you want,” Jericho said as Peyton lifted his head. “No expiration date.” That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say. His brain had fallen out somewhere.
Peyton’s nostrils flared. “That sounds like more than one night.”
“You think I’d say no to another fuck from any of you? There are so many variations that I’d love to explore.” Jericho rarely went back for seconds. They were pointless, and the only instances he could think of were when he travelled infrequently to Vegas. He hadn’t been in years.
That was just a bit of fun. Jericho glanced at where Will was still sleeping. He’d turned his head, his nose buried between Jericho’s legs and one hand clinging to his inner thigh, snoring lightly.
This had the potential to be so much more, and that was a terrifying thought.
Jericho wanted to run his fingers through Will’s hair, softly pet him while he slept, and coax out more of those adorable sounds.
