Third One Read online

  “Marcus,” Liam growled. “Get ready.”

  “For what?” Marcus forced out and groaned when Liam thrust harder while pushing the dildo deeper with his hand. He pressed the button on the bullet.

  Marcus shouted. His body convulsed, and he fumbled for his cock, squeezing it.

  “Fuck! Come! Come now!” he yelled. Liam obeyed, fucking Marcus harder. The vibrating toy along his cock and the spasms of Marcus’s ring around him sent his body into a frenzy. He managed to see Marcus’s seed fly through the air before his vision blackened, and he came too.

  He pulled out, overstimulated, but thrust the vibrating toy in and out Marcus’s come-filled hole a few more times, watching his partner twitch with aftershocks. Still moaning rhythmically, Marcus took it, his slack features the image of pure bliss.

  “Insatiable,” Liam whispered and kissed Marcus’s softening cock. He pulled the toy out slowly and turned it off. He placed it on a towel on the floor. They would deal with it later.

  Marcus rolled off the mountain of pillows and stretched, rubbing the drops of come into the skin on his abdomen. “Thank you. This was brilliant.” Marcus sighed.

  “Not quite two cocks but close,” Liam said, grinning.

  Marcus reached for him and kissed him deeply. He caught Liam’s gaze and stared for a moment, no doubt overanalyzing again.

  “No, I’m not doing it just for you,” Liam murmured, answering the silent worry in Marcus’s face.

  Nodding, Marcus closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing into the mattress. There was a hush, a hollow moment, when Liam could only hear their breathing. In the meanwhile, the melancholy crept into the room. He stopped trying to outrun her long ago; now he just greeted her like an old friend.

  “How did we get to this point?” Marcus asked.

  Liam hated the self-deprecation in his tone.

  “After a decade of fucking? Of course, we needed new toys,” he joked.

  Marcus chuckled tiredly and swatted Liam over his chest. “If the rest of the world knew what a dork you really are, you would never close a deal again.”

  “You liked the dildo, then?”

  “It’s fantastic. When you turned it on, it almost blew my head off. I can’t wait to do it again.”

  “Tomorrow is the party. I’m not sure, but we can’t probably fuck in a house full of people…”

  Marcus grinned. “New Year’s 2017, your birthday, my birthday 2018, hell, in April?”

  Liam guffawed. “True. But those were quickies.”

  Marcus’s face grew serious again, and Liam could feel the earnest emotion emanate from him even before his man spoke.

  “I love you. Just as much as I did ten years ago. More.”

  “Yes. I know.” Liam smiled, and Marcus mirrored him, including the soft sadness in his eyes, the same sadness Liam felt in his heart.

  He lifted his hand and tugged at the loose strands of unruly hair above Marcus’s temple. “I wish I could just wrap him like a parcel and give him to you,” he said.

  Marcus snorted and shook his head.

  “Yes, my dear sir, please, buy me a boy for my birthday,” he said with mock obedience.

  “Now, who’s the dork?”

  The bright green eyes turned to Liam, the unnaturally long eyelashes fluttered, and Liam’s chest tightened. He adored those eyes. He could see the whole world in them, with its beauty, imperfections, and misfortunes.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Liam,” Marcus whispered.

  “Hush!”

  No, Marcus didn’t have to apologize. Not for falling in love, not for wanting more from life. Liam kissed his partner’s shoulder and inched closer, throwing his leg over Marcus’s thighs. Once upon a time, Liam wanted more too. And it led him here, to his home, into this man’s arms. He didn’t regret a thing.

  “When Julian left…” Marcus began.

  “Jules left because he was bored.”

  “But you loved him.”

  “We all thought it was love. But was it really? Would it have ended the same way? I remember thinking I loved Jules, but I don’t remember how it felt. It’s the anger I remember clearly.”

  “Maybe if I hadn’t taken the job at the theater. He wanted to travel.”

  “Love, nothing of what happened has ever been your fault. If it weren’t for you, he would have left even earlier. And that I wanted him to stay longer, even though I knew? I was the fool.” Marcus made a disapproving noise, but Liam didn’t let him speak. Marcus was a gentle soul, always thinking the best of everyone else, blaming himself first before he even considered someone else might be at fault. “He got tired of us, Marcus. There was nothing you could have done. Jules loved the thrill of breaking the rules and provoking. He loved the idea of the three of us, not the reality. When his friends got used to it, when showing up at Copenhagen Pride parade in three matching suits was old news, he needed something else to entertain himself with. It wasn’t your fault. He brought us together, and I will forever be grateful for that. But I don’t think of him anymore. Haven’t for years.”

  Marcus was quiet, and Liam knew there was something on his mind he was afraid to ask.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “We have only ever joked about it. Talked around it. But you never told me what you’d do, given the opportunity again.”

  Liam knew what Marcus was asking. And he knew his answer. “With Luke?”

  Marcus nodded.

  The other dancer. What was it about the blue-eyed dancer that made Liam want to wrap him in a fleece blanket and massage his feet? Proud, beautiful, and so sad. Had Liam ever seen him laugh? Or even smile? Luke must be gorgeous when he smiles. “I like him,” Liam said. “I like him a lot. But he’s stubborn and so convinced he knows what’s right and what’s wrong.”

  “I would have let go a long time ago, but…”

  “But he can’t let go of you either. I know.”

  Taking a deep breath, Marcus sighed in agreement.

  Liam thought of the last show. Luke standing on the stage, the accolades and flowers raining all around him. But that wasn’t what he’d wanted; Liam could see. Liam had caught his gaze, and he had seen the change in Luke’s face. The flash of anger. Luke was far from immune.

  There were things Liam could do, and had he been younger, he would have seduced the boy and been done with it. The primitive part of him rejoiced in the thought. Corner him, push him against a wall, and feel him grow hard just like I would. But Liam was tired of manipulation and games. He didn’t want one more relationship built on a flimsy attraction, on thrills and whims. If Liam’s experience had taught him anything, it was to appreciate a man who was worth more than that. For his integrity, his strength and passion, his loyalty, and Luke deserved better.

  But how could Liam talk his way into the man’s heart when Luke refused to listen?

  The next evening, the party was already getting loud when Liam hugged Tyler by the door and exchanged a few welcoming words with Joel. He noticed Luke sneaking in with his head down. The man just patted Marcus’s shoulder and nodded at Liam before he averted his gaze and walked swiftly through the house toward the open glass wall and into the lit garden.

  Liam followed him with his gaze as Luke moved through the crowd, hugging friends, kissing cheeks. He exchanged an affectionate embrace with Adam, almost lifting the small man from the ground while Christoffer watched, a fond smile on his face. Yet as soon as Luke turned away from the couple, his features fell again.

  Yesterday had been Luke’s last day with the troupe. Marcus had been quiet about it, so Liam hadn’t pushed. Yet seeing Luke now, pale and gloomy, Liam felt frustration rise.

  He continued watching Luke during the evening; he couldn’t help it. Yes, he paused a few times at the man’s expressive eyes, strong cheekbones, and beautifully curved lips. The blond bangs kept falling over Luke’s forehead, and when he ran his hand through them, the muscles and veins on his forearm rippling subtly, Liam sighed. Luke was beautiful. A
nd sad and stressed out. Liam saw him talk to Marcus briefly, in the middle of their living room, surrounded by people. Both men’s expressions were strained before Luke turned away, leaving Marcus standing there, face crestfallen.

  Liam’s anger and frustration grew stronger than his compassion. Something had to give. He followed Luke to the kitchen.

  “Luke,” he said from the kitchen door.

  The man didn’t turn his head. Instead, his shoulders lifted with a deep breath. He put down the glass of water he was holding and leaned forward, bracing himself on the edge of the counter with both hands.

  “What?” he asked, voice flat.

  I know you love him, just like he loves you. I want you, and I saw you want me.

  Liam had always known words wouldn’t fix this. He walked closer, pausing next to Luke, who still wouldn’t look at him. Liam covered Luke’s left hand with his. The chill shocked him at first. Luke’s hand was ice-cold, and Liam was painfully aware of the last time they’d touched, two months ago at the hospital. He squeezed lightly before he stroked Luke’s fingers, warming them. Luke didn’t move, except his head sunk lower.

  He didn’t pull away. Luke didn’t pull away.

  Of course, he didn’t. Liam hadn’t imagined the energy between them. Carefully watching Luke’s profile for clues, he lifted his other hand and let it rest on Luke’s neck. Luke squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled harshly, and Liam could see Luke struggling. His chest ached at the sight. He massaged Luke’s nape while the man battled with himself. Liam stepped closer still until his nose brushed Luke’s hair. Breathing in Luke’s scent, he nuzzled his temple. Just a second passed, and Liam wanted to pause the time. Please. He felt a shudder ripple through Luke. One more second, one more breath. It was unmistakable. They both felt it, the same pull, the same rush of want, glimpses of a future, a different reality where they would touch willingly and with the ease of familiar lovers. God, it had been such a long time since Liam felt this sure, this convinced of the grand potential of love.

  A deep sigh and Luke leaned away, pulling his hand from underneath Liam’s.

  “This is so wrong,” Luke blurted. He hugged his hand to his chest as if Liam had burned him with his touch.

  “Why?” Liam asked.

  Luke met Liam’s eyes, his mouth parted and closed again. Of course, he didn’t have an answer.

  “You are supposed to hate me,” Luke whispered.

  Liam smiled through the sadness. He caressed Luke’s cheek, then let his nails brush through the stubble. Luke sucked in a breath, and his pupils widened. Yes, he felt it too, Liam could see.

  “I don’t hate you. Never have.”

  “You should.”

  Liam only shrugged. He needed more time with Luke. It wasn’t just Marcus who bound them together, not anymore. Luke stood still, accepting Liam’s touch, but it was obvious he could leave any second now. Liam had nothing to lose. He brushed a thumb over Luke’s lips. Their gazes locked, and Liam inched closer. He felt Luke’s short, shallow breaths against his finger. He traced the shape, the curve from the center of Luke’s top lip to the left corner. Leaning closer still, he managed to brush his nose against Luke’s in a featherlight touch.

  Maybe the kiss wouldn’t have changed anything, and maybe it would have. Liam never got to know. Luke tore away, a low hiss escaping, and he was gone.

  Throwing his head back, Liam braced his hands on his hips and sighed.

  He needed more time. But how?

  Six

  Marcus

  Marcus took a second gulp of his drink, and he knew he was going to be stupid tonight. It was his third gin and tonic, double on the gin. The strong smell of alcohol made him wrinkle his nose, but he drank some more before he put the glass on the bookshelf behind him, by Liam’s alphabetized collection of British classics, right in front of Oscar Wilde and Virginia Woolf. He would have found the collection pretentious if he hadn’t seen Liam read and reread those books many times, sitting in the armchair Marcus was now leaning on with his hip. Where was Liam anyway?

  The noise around him was deafening, and he instinctively reached to trace the small scar on his temple with his fingertips. It didn’t hurt at all—just a memory of an ache, not actual pain. Unable to take in the whole room, he blinked a few times. The walls and floor pulsed with music. Was that Nicky Minaj? Liam was definitely nowhere near the sound system, then. Marcus smirked and then winced. The scenery broke into small puzzle pieces—Nathan laughing with his head thrown back at something Xiou was saying. C and Adam kissing, then Adam saying something in C’s ear. Someone passed them, bumped into Adam, and C caught his partner in his arms, glaring at the passer-by. There were faces Marcus recognized vaguely—friends and significant others of the whole ensemble. Maybe fifty people altogether? He used to like these parties. Now he wanted to hide.

  Luke was nowhere to be seen.

  He saw Joel coming toward him, and despite the fact that he genuinely liked the guy, he really couldn’t talk to him right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Except Luke, and Luke had brushed him off.

  “Thank you for inviting me. Great party, as always.”

  Impersonal, formal. Was that how they were supposed to part? Marcus picked the glass up again and drank more, then pushed off the armchair and strode through the crowded room. Someone caught up with him by the foot of the stairs. With bone-deep relief, he recognized Liam’s hand on the small of his back.

  “Yes, you need a break,” Liam whispered.

  With heavy steps, Marcus managed to climb to the first floor. He turned to Liam’s study, and Liam closed the door behind them.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to get drunk,” Marcus said. He heard himself slur a little.

  “You’re fine, love.” Liam kissed his forehead and poured him a glass of water from the carafe on the table.

  Marcus gulped half of it and leaned on the table, half sitting. His shoulders slumped. His head swam. How did he get wasted so fast?

  “You haven’t drunk anything except a light beer here and there since the concussion, remember?” Liam said.

  “Yeah.”

  “How much did you manage?”

  “Three gin and tonics?”

  “Lightweight. You should eat something.”

  Eat? He didn’t want to go to the kitchen. There were altogether too many people everywhere. Marcus felt the loud music from downstairs vibrate through his feet. M.I.A., Bad Girls. It must have been Adam’s choice. Marcus could see Adam in his head, the boy’s slim hips swaying, his smile playful and carefree, C looming close… Marcus liked that song too. Dancing. That would sober him up. He lifted his eyes, and the direction of his wayward thoughts changed again. Liam stood there. Black shirt—and damn, his shoulders looked divine in that shirt—no tie, charcoal slacks, beard trimmed short, neat, freshly from the barber, dark eyes watching Marcus with light amusement. Liam…

  “Come here,” Marcus breathed.

  Liam shook his head, smiling, but he stepped closer, and Marcus leaned his forehead on Liam’s chest. He inhaled the familiar scent, sophisticated cologne mixed with a loving home, and burrowed closer. No. Maybe not dancing. He didn’t think of what he was doing when he lifted his hands so he could open two buttons and nuzzle Liam’s chest.

  He felt Liam’s hands in his hair and heard his smiling voice. “Hey, love, the house is full of people.”

  “I know. So what?”

  Marcus pushed off the table, and before Liam could step away, he caught him by the belt buckle. Kneeling, he looked up and grinned.

  “I’ll sober up in no time if you let me suck you,” he said and unzipped. Liam chuckled, but his laughter stopped abruptly when Marcus freed his erection with nimble hands, feeling a little proud of himself. Yeah, he was drunk, but not so much. No fumbling, sloppy blow jobs. Nuh-uh. He was in control, and he knew what his man liked.

  Hungry, he nuzzled the long fat cock. It had been so many years, but this cock could still bring him to his knees and make him
beg for it. He licked Liam’s cockhead and sucked lightly. The room swayed a little when he closed his eyes, and a sluggish warmth spread through his gut. His senses were dulled, thinking impaired, but it only made his arousal stronger. He ran a hand over his own bulge and hummed, sucking Liam’s cock deeper into his mouth, feeling it harden even more.

  Damn, he wanted to fuck. He wanted to spread his ass for Liam. He sucked harder still, and Liam moaned, praising him with gentle words. Marcus wrestled out of his button-down shirt and opened his pants. With one last gentle lick, he let go of Liam’s hard cock and stood, slipping out of his boxers on the way up. He felt ridiculous as he dragged off one sock, almost losing balance. He couldn’t be bothered to pull off the other one. Liam held his elbow to steady him.

  “Fuck me,” Marcus ordered, determined.

  “Seriously?” Liam raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes. I’m drunk, I’m emotional and stupid, and it’s probably unfair to you, and sometimes I think I’m using you because I’m selfish, greedy, and juvenile, but I want your cock more than anything. We both know my coping mechanisms have always been shitty. Sex is the least stupid of them. Can you please, please fuck me? Take that gorgeous dick, shove it into my ass, and fucking pound into me, okay? Just turn off my brain for a minute.” He was rambling, but damn, he needed something.

  “Marcus…”

  “There’s a lube bottle in the desk drawer since the time we watched porn in here.”

  Liam burst out laughing. “You’re insane, and I love you. Turn around, hands on the desk.”

  With a sigh of relief, Marcus turned, braced himself on the table, and pushed his ass out.

  Liam smacked his ass cheeks once and walked around the table, deliberately slow, making him wait. Marcus swallowed dryly. The stinging echo of Liam’s palm on his ass made him want to writhe and moan. But he stayed still until Liam returned with the lube bottle and paused behind him.