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But it can’t wait any longer.
Leaving the two of them, I make my way to where my coveralls were discarded earlier and fish my phone out of my pocket.
My mom.
Shit.
I pop open a beer before tapping the message open, my heart rate accelerating as I read it. I’m forty-two years old, and I still get nervous whenever my parents call or message. It’s some kind of minor PTSD.
“Shit,” I murmur when I see what it says.
I click the phone off and set it on the counter, gulping down my beer quickly. God, I don’t even want to answer, but I know I need to.
Fuck familial responsibility. I just want to be left alone, but at the same time, I know that I can’t ignore it forever. Despite their disappointment in me, I still have to show up to shit.
“Fuck.”
I sigh and then run a hand down my face. I’ll deal with this shit tomorrow. I have Ben and Ford waiting in bed. The two of them are more important.
I replay those kisses in my head, that unanswered message on my phone dissipating as I make my way toward the bedroom. For now, I’m going to put all that aside and focus on them. Ben needs us both right now.
When I appear in the bedroom and see Ben pressed up against Ford, his eyes still shut, his chest rising and falling and the content look on Ford’s face, I just melt.
I strip and slide in next to them, pressing my hand to Ben’s stomach, feeling his warm skin beneath my palm.
“I am obsessed with him,” Ford whispers, and I nod.
“I know.”
I watch as Ford leans up a little and presses his lips to the crown of Ben’s head, and then I do the same. Ford smiles at me, and I nestle into Ben, hearing him sigh and relax as we surround him.
He needs us. We might not make sense, but he needs us.
And we need him.
* * *
“I’m so hungry,” Ben grumbles as he stretches between us, his naked body warm and needy.
“I bet you are,” I say as I run my hand along his side. “I’ll get up and make you something.”
Ben groans as I move away from him, almost whimpering in sadness as I walk to the bedroom door but Ford is there, soothing him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers softly, his hands running up and down his chest.
I want to stay, want to see where this goes, but I need to make them breakfast. It’s an easy task and one that I like to do for people who appreciate it. And Ford and Ben appreciate it. I love seeing my men satisfied.
“It’s ready!” I call out twenty minutes later, but when they don’t appear, I cover the breakfast sandwiches and make my way back to the room.
“Oh god,” I hear Ben moan lowly, and my dick instantly perks up.
I know what Ford’s doing, whatthey’redoing, and for some reason it doesn’t bother me at all. No, it turns me on. I want to watch them fuck, want to see their bodies moving in tandem.
I want to stroke myself and come across their bodies.
I step into the room, the blinds still pulled shut, but I can see the shape of them moving. Ben’s on his side, his back to Ford, his leg pulled up and back as Ford slides his cock in and out of Ben’s hole.
“Fuck yes, you take it,” Ford groans and then thrusts harder, making Ben cry out. It’s a desperate cry, one filled with need and longing. He needs this fucking, he needs Ford inside of him.
