Page 95 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Skylar

Kiaan walked beside me up the path to my house, our hands occasionally brushing. My mind raced with possibilities, with the words I’d whispered in his ear—words that had made his pupils dilate and his breath catch. The thought of Ryker waiting for us back at the house sent heat pooling between my legs, a delicious anticipation that made me quicken my pace.

“Eager to get back?”

Kiaan asked, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

I shot him a look that I hoped conveyed both warning and promise.

“Don’t get cocky. I might change my mind about what I told you up there.”

“No, you won’t.”

His confidence was infuriating and arousing in equal measure.

“You want us to make you come harder than you’ve ever come. Then you want to see me wrecked and stuffed with his big cock.”

“Fuck,”

I groaned. The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong. I’d been fantasizing about both of them for longer than I cared to admit. It had happened naturally, late-night gaming sessions that bled into flirting, then explicit text conversations that left me touching myself in the dark, imagining their hands on me, on each other.

What had started as separate attractions had morphed into something more complex, more demanding—a need to have them both, to watch them together, to control what happened between all of us.

When we finally rounded the last bend in the trail and my tiny house came into view, I felt a flutter of nervousness in my stomach. What if Ryker didn’t want this? What if seeing us return together made him feel left out, betrayed? What if I was about to destroy years of friendship because I couldn’t keep my fucking libido in check?

But those fears dissolved the moment we stepped through the door.

Ryker knelt on the floor beside the shelves he’d built for me, a small brush in his hand as he applied a rich, honey-colored stain to the wood. He looked up as we entered, his face breaking into that devastatingly sweet smile that never failed to make my chest tighten.

“Hey,”

he said, setting down the brush and wiping his hands on a rag.

“I was starting to wonder if you two had eloped or something.”

“Worried?”

I teased, setting down my backpack and moving closer to inspect his work.

The stain transformed the bare wood into something warm and alive, bringing out the natural grain patterns in a way that made each shelf look like it had its own unique personality. It was exactly what I would have chosen if I’d thought about it—not too dark, not too light, perfectly complementing the rest of my small space.

“Me? Worried?”

Ryker’s attempt at nonchalance was betrayed by the faint flush creeping up his neck.

“I just thought maybe Kiaan had chartered a helicopter to Vegas or something.”

Kiaan snorted, closing the door behind him.

“Please. If I was going to elope, I’d at least spring for Paris.”

I ran my fingers along the edge of one shelf, the wood silky smooth beneath my touch.

“These are beautiful, Ryker. The stain is perfect.”

“It’s nothing fancy.”

His eyes followed my hand, tracking my movements with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Just thought they needed a little protection.”

I met his gaze, holding it steady.

“Protection is important. And so is knowing when to let go.”

He swallowed visibly, understanding flickering in his eyes. “Sky...”

I stepped closer, reaching down to brush a smudge of stain from his cheek.

“Such a good boy, making everything so nice for me while we were gone.”

The effect of those two words—good boy—was immediate and visceral. Ryker’s pupils dilated, his breath catching in his throat. Behind me, I heard Kiaan make a small, strangled sound.

“I don’t know about that,”

Ryker murmured, but he didn’t move away from my touch.

I leaned down, closing the distance between us until our faces were inches apart. “I do.”

Then I kissed him, quick and light at first, then deeper. His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, holding me close. He tasted like coffee and something sweeter, his lips soft against mine. When I pulled back, his eyes were dazed, lips slightly parted.

“Kiaan told me how much he enjoyed what happened yesterday,”

I said, keeping my voice low.

“Between you two.”

Ryker’s eyes darted to Kiaan, who was watching us with an unreadable expression.

“I can explain—”

“No need.”

I straightened up, taking a step back so I could see both of them.

“I saw it. And it was fucking hot.”

The tension in the room shifted, electricity crackling in the air between the three of us. I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what I needed to say next.

“I’m going to be honest with both of you, because you deserve that. My anxiety went through the roof when you both showed up here. All I could think about was how I was going to hurt one of you, or both of you, and destroy our friendship forever.”

Kiaan moved closer, his hand brushing against mine.

“Sky, we never meant to put that kind of pressure on you.”

“I know. But my brain doesn’t always get the memo.”

I smiled wryly.

“The thing is, seeing you two together... it settled something in me. Like maybe there’s a way forward that doesn’t involve breaking anyone’s heart.”

Ryker’s eyes widened.

“You mean...?”

“I mean I want both of you. And after talking to Kiaan, I think you each other, too.”

I looked between them, heart hammering in my chest.

“Am I wrong?”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable so much as charged with possibility. Ryker was the first to break it, his voice low and rough.

“You’re not wrong.”

Kiaan’s throat worked as he swallowed.

“No. I want that, too.”

Relief and desire crashed through me in equal measure, making my knees weak and my pulse race.

“I need to know something else. Are you both willing to be good for me? To let me lead this... whatever this becomes? The way we do in chat.”

Understanding dawned in Ryker’s eyes first—he’d always been quicker to pick up on my needs, my desires. Without a word, he shifted forward onto both knees, his posture straightening, hands resting on his thighs. The sight of him kneeling there, waiting, sent a jolt of pure heat straight to my core.

Kiaan’s brow furrowed briefly before comprehension hit. Never one to be outdone, he quickly moved to kneel beside Ryker, though his posture was less practiced, more tentative.

“Is this what you want?”

he asked, uncertainty making his voice rougher than usual.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for a moment. The image of them both kneeling before me—Ryker calm and sure, Kiaan nervous but determined—was almost too much to process. Power I’d never wielded in person before surged through me, heady and terrifying all at once.

“Yes,”

I said.

“That’s what I want. My good boys.”

Ryker’s lips curved into a small, private smile, while Kiaan’s breath hitched. I circled them slowly, letting my fingertips trail across Ryker’s shoulder, then Kiaan’s, feather-light touches that made them both shiver.

“We should establish some ground rules,”

I said, stopping in front of them again.

“Safewords, first of all. Do you remember the one we used in sexting?”

Ryker nodded immediately. “Pickle.”

“You used the same safeword?”

Kiaan added, a hint of his usual snark breaking through his nervousness.

“I suppose it’s a joke for all of us.”

I laughed, some of the tension in my chest easing.

“Exactly. So if anything gets to be too much, too fast, too anything—pickle. No questions asked, everything stops.”

They both nodded, the seriousness of the moment settling over us.

“Say it for me,”

I commanded, needing to hear them acknowledge it.

“Pickle,”

they said in unison.

“Good.”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

“And what should you call me?”

“Duchess,”

Kiaan whispered.

“For your powerful character in the game, DuchessCypher.”

I smiled.

“I like that, Kitten. Now, are you both okay to play a little game? Nothing too intense for our first time.”

Ryker’s “yes”

was immediate and certain. Kiaan hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding.

“Use your words, Kiaan,”

I said, letting a hint of steel enter my voice.

His eyes darkened at my tone.

“Yes, Duchess.”

The nervousness that had been fluttering in my stomach transformed into something electric, something powerful. I’d never done this in person before—only through text, where I could edit and revise, where I had time to think about what to say next. But the way they were looking at me, waiting for direction, made me feel like I could do anything.

“I want you to undress each other,”

I said, the words coming out before I could second-guess them.

“Just shirts for now. Slowly.”

They turned to face each other, Ryker reaching out first, his fingers finding the hem of Kiaan’s button-down. With careful movements, he began undoing the buttons one by one, revealing inch after inch of Kiaan’s smooth brown skin. Kiaan’s breath came faster when Ryker’s knuckles brushed against his chest, the contact seemingly innocent but charged with meaning.

When all the buttons were undone, Ryker pushed the fabric off Kiaan’s shoulders, letting it slide down his arms to pool on the floor. The contrast between them was striking—Kiaan’s lean, wiry build beside Ryker’s broader, more muscular frame, both beautiful in different ways.

“Your turn,”

I said to Kiaan, who seemed frozen in place, staring at Ryker’s chest, which was still covered by his Denver Fire Department t-shirt.

Kiaan swallowed hard, then reached for the hem of Ryker’s shirt, tugging it upward with less grace but equal intent. Ryker raised his arms, allowing Kiaan to pull the shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled planes of his torso.

“Holy fuck,”

Kiaan muttered, the words barely audible.

I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Ryker’s body was a testament to his profession—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, defined pecs and abs that spoke of function rather than vanity. A dusting of blonde hair covered his chest, trailing down to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Now touch each other,”

I said, my voice husky with arousal.

“Start with hands on shoulders, then explore. Slowly.”

They obeyed, Ryker’s large hands settling on Kiaan’s shoulders with gentle confidence, while Kiaan’s touch was more hesitant, his fingers skimming Ryker’s skin.

“It’s okay to really touch him,”

I encouraged.

“He won’t break.”

Something in Kiaan’s expression shifted, determination replacing uncertainty. His hands settled on Ryker’s shoulders, then slid down to trace the contours of his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples in a way that made Ryker’s breath catch.

“That’s it,”

I murmured, circling them again, taking in the sight from every angle.

“Ryker, show him how you like to be touched.”

Ryker guided one of Kiaan’s hands to his side, pressing it more firmly against his ribs, then dragging it slowly down to his hip. The touch left a faint trail of pink in its wake, Kiaan’s fingernails lightly scoring the skin.

“Now you,”

I said to Ryker.

“Touch him how you think he wants to be touched.”

Ryker’s hands moved with surprising confidence, one sliding up to cup the back of Kiaan’s neck, the other tracing patterns on his chest, circling a nipple without quite touching it. Kiaan’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting slightly as Ryker’s thumb finally brushed over the sensitive bud.

“Fuck,”

Kiaan breathed, the word half curse, half prayer.

The sight of them together, touching and being touched, learning each other’s bodies under my direction, was the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed. Heat pulsed between my legs, my own arousal building with each passing moment.

“One more thing,”

I said, my voice barely steady.

“I want you to kiss each other. Really kiss. Like you mean it.”

Their eyes met, a silent communication passing between them. Then Ryker’s hand tightened on the back of Kiaan’s neck, drawing him forward as they both leaned in. The first brush of their lips was tentative, exploring. The second was anything but.

Kiaan made a small, desperate sound as Ryker deepened the kiss, his hand fisting in Ryker’s hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, chest to chest, skin to skin, as the kiss grew hungrier, more demanding. I could see the moment Ryker’s tongue slipped past Kiaan’s lips, the way Kiaan’s body went momentarily rigid before melting against him.

I watched, transfixed, as they lost themselves in each other, all hesitation forgotten. Ryker’s hand slid down Kiaan’s back to grab his ass, pulling their hips flush together. Kiaan groaned into Ryker’s mouth, his own hands roaming everywhere he could reach, as if he couldn’t get enough.

When they broke apart, both were breathing hard, lips swollen, pupils blown wide with desire. They turned to look at me in unison, and the naked want in their eyes nearly brought me to my knees.

“Good boys,”

I whispered, meaning it more than I’d ever meant anything.

“Such good boys for me. How do you feel, Ryker?”

Ryker grinned.

“I’m so into him. Obviously. I mean, you see how gorgeous he is. And he’s… Kiaan.”

Kiaan was staring at the floor, looking anywhere but at us, and I cupped his chin and forced his gaze up to mine.

“And Kitten, what about you?”

He looked flustered.

“I don’t know… it felt nice. He’s a good kisser, and I like knowing it turns you on. And… I like it when he calls me gorgeous.”

The last came out in a fast breath, eyes darting towards Ryker.

“I think he called me that when we first met on the seaplane.”

“Fuck yeah, I did,”

Ryker said with a bold grin.

“Good,”

I murmured, leaning down to give Kiaan, then Ryker, a quick kiss.

The fear that had been my constant companion since they’d arrived—the fear of hurting them, of destroying our friendship—began to dissolve, replaced by something warmer, more hopeful. This could work. We could figure this out together, the three of us, building something new and beautiful from the foundation of friendship we already shared.

I held out my hands to them, and they each took one, rising to their feet.

“Come to bed,”

I said softly.

“Both of you.”