More, Sloan Parker [guided reading books TXT] 📗
- Author: Sloan Parker
Book online «More, Sloan Parker [guided reading books TXT] 📗». Author Sloan Parker
It was almost a giggle. Almost.
“Two months later, I joined the club. I felt safe at the Haven. The men there are serious about playing safe and not doing stuff their partners don't want done. And there's never any drugs on site. I haven't had sex with anyone but club members since.”
“It sounds like you made smart choices once you got out.”
He met my stare and grinned. “Thanks. One of the first things I liked about Richard was when he asked us what we wanted in bed.”
“God, I love that. It drives me crazy every single time.”
“Uh-huh.” Matthew let go of his legs and turned. He dropped his feet to the floor. “It's like he wants to please us so much he doesn't bother with assumptions. He wants to know what will make us come harder than anything else. He can be controlling— which I also love— but he always wants to give us what we need.”
I hooked an arm over the back of the couch. “When we're fucking, he takes me to places where I feel relaxed. Alive.”
“Yeah.” Matthew laid a palm on the cushion between us. “He always works to make it so damn good, but it's combined with care.”
“Right from the beginning, I've loved watching you two. He touches you with a gentleness I don't have a clue how to show.” I'd lost the ability to keep my thoughts from spilling out. Matthew did that to me.
“You do, Luke. The two of you can fuck me senseless, but at the same time, I've never felt more secure, more cared for than when I'm with him. Or you.”
“I do... care for you.” It surprised the shit out of me the words didn't literally get stuck in my throat. But he'd shared a piece of himself, and he deserved to hear my truth, even the one I hid from myself.
“I care about you too.” He inched closer and placed a hand over my chest. “I want this to work more than I've wanted anything.”
His eyes met mine, and the pure affection and passion in them didn't frighten me in the least. I ran a hand over the dark waves of his hair. We didn't rush to meet. We lingered, expelled several breaths on each other's lips before finally, slowly coming together.
The kiss was drawn out and sensual, a physical culmination of raw emotions I wasn't used to. We held on to each other instead of stroking or petting. We said more with our bodies than I could have put into words. More than I could have given him with anything other than a physical moment. So I showed him all I could. It was the least he deserved.
When Matthew pulled back, he said, “Richard's not like most men. To take this chance with us. To risk everything. It's rare. The way he goes with his instincts and trusts.”
“I don't know what he saw in me, but I'm beginning to understand how fortunate I am.”
“He saw you. You may not have thought you wanted this, but I think you needed us.”
“I think I did.”
He kissed me again, then stood and offered me a hand. “Let's tackle his fine body when he gets home. Let him make us feel relaxed, alive.”
I smiled, content in the knowledge Matthew understood what I'd meant. He'd been there with me.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Fuck this.”
I slammed my laptop lid shut without an ounce of worry I might have damaged the damn thing.
My latest program, a simple time-card application for a chain of regional pet stores, kept generating errors, and after an hour reviewing lines of code, I gave up on trying to figure it out.
Something was seriously bothering me, and it had nothing to do with work.
It'd been a month since Richard and Matthew had attended one of Richard's work parties, and they were out together again. Without me.
I ditched my laptop on the coffee table and cursed at it again. I stretched out on the couch. Did I really want to be with them? Did it bother me to be left out?
Hell, yes.
I didn't want to give the admission much thought. Instead, I reached for my laptop bag and pulled out the brown envelope. I had looked at the pictures and photocopies from Maria Lammon too many times over the past few weeks, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.
The first time I opened the envelope, I flipped through the pictures as fast as I could, as though my father could see me via the printed images of him thirty-five years earlier.
I took a closer look as I went through them for what had to be the twentieth time. The relaxed, smiling images of my dad couldn't be the same man I'd grown up with. I never saw him smile, not like that.
I reached into my laptop bag and pulled out another envelope, one I'd held onto for years. I'd gone in search of it after first getting Maria's package. The photo of Tim and me had been taken at a dorm Halloween party, the day after we had sex for the first time. I had a goofy smile on my face, a match to the one on Tim's. We were pictured with five other guys, all of us holding up our middle fingers in salute to the photographer. I couldn't remember the names of the other guys in the photo. I rarely allowed myself the melodrama of looking at the only picture I had of myself in college, the only picture I had of Tim.
I held the photo next to the one of my father— two young college men. It was unnerving how much we looked alike. Weren't my mother's genes supposed to factor in there somewhere?
I set the pictures down and picked up the photocopied newspaper articles. Most were from the university
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