Page 18 of Fanboy in the Falls (Devon Falls #3)

I've got no fucking idea exactly what's happening to me here. —Colin Templegate

“Whoa.”

Gabe stops so suddenly in front of me that I nearly run into him.

He stands in the front doorway of my house, eyes wide as he takes in the large open concept floor plan I’ve spent the last two months working to create.

A sitting area is on one side, flanked with soft, gray sofas that line walls in shades of blues or beiges.

One of the three giant flatscreens I had installed in this house is the centerpiece of the space, and it hangs in its own frame above a reclaimed fireplace.

I still don’t quite understand why I don’t feel more pride when I look around this space. I definitely honed plenty of my DIY skills over the hours I spent working on fixing it up. Hopefully I’ll feel differently when we finish our work on the inn.

“I took charge of the design!” Tom chirps from the kitchen, which sits on the other side of the large space.

The stairway to the second floor cuts cleanly up the middle of it.

Tom opens the restaurant-style fridge and pulls out a Diet Coke.

“Goodness knows what sort of color scheme Colin would have settled on without me. Did you know he once paired teal and maroon?” He wrinkles his nose.

“The teal and maroon thing was a racing uniform. Nobody gave me a choice in the matter,” I remind Tom. “Want anything, Gabe?”

Gabe takes a step toward Tom. “Those countertops,” he whispers.

“Imported from Italy,” I mutter as I walk past him and toward the island.

I let Tom get a little audacious when he was helping me pick out kitchen fixtures, and they’re all gold against dark gray cabinets.

I was skeptical, but I have to admit, it’s a pretty stunning look with the marble countertops.

Especially when you add the high-end stainless steel appliances I put in.

I pull out a Coke for Gabe and hand it to him, because he’s still gaping.

I mean, I get it. I know all too well not everyone has the luxury to install a kitchen like this in a home they may not even live in all that long.

So every time I buy something expensive for myself, like all the shit in this kitchen, I donate the same amount of money to a charity or organization that can pay it forward to people who need it.

This kitchen financed a hefty donation to The Trevor Project, a charity I’ve supported for years.

Race car drivers can end up making a lot more money than they need. Money that can help so many other people who really do need it. Why the hell would I hoard it when I could put it out into the world so it can do some good?

Gabe takes another step and slides one hand over the marble countertops. He shakes his head and takes a step back. “I think I should go,” he blurts out.

“What?” Tom and I say the word at the same time, and Tom immediately jogs around the countertop to put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Little one, what are you talking about?

“This!” Gabe gestures wildly at the room. “You’re, like, celebrities! Both of you! What the hell am I even doing in your house? In one of my group homes I used to sleep on a blow-up mattress in a sleeping bag!”

“You slept where?” I stalk to the other side of Gabe, like I might be able to protect him from the horrible sleeping arrangements of his past. If only.

“I should definitely go,” Gabe says. He puts his soda can down on the counter and starts to head toward the door.

“Wait.” Tom steps in front of him. “Of course you should leave if that’s what you really want to do. But Gabe… money and countertops and things like that have nothing to do with me wanting to kiss you right now. And.” He swallows. “I have a sneaking suspicion Colin feels the same way.”

I mean, I’m not too sure of very many of my feelings right now. But I am sure of that one. I nod slowly.

“So,” Tom goes on. “Let’s just take this slowly. What if I just kiss you now? Just once? Then we’ll see how you feel.”

Gabe swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple move in his throat. “Are you sure,” he whispers, “that we can keep this a secret? Not tell anyone?”

I don’t have to even look at Tom to have this silent conversation. I know exactly what he’s thinking.

I don’t like this stepfather character. We’ll have to do whatever we can to keep Gabe and Lou safe.

Agreed. And if this stepfather is the asshole he appears to be, I can take him down the moment I need to. I won’t hesitate to do it.

“We’re sure,” I say firmly.

Gabe takes a deep breath. I can hear him counting as he lets the breath back out again. “Okay, then,” he finally whispers.

And then I watch my best friend hold Gabe's face in his hands as he bends down and kisses him like Gabe's his life energy.

Gabe's hair is messy and askew, his eyes wide and bright one minute and closed the next, and the two of them seem to fit perfectly together.

Gabe's pressed against Tom's chest, and as he pulls away slightly, panting, I realize something: I'm hard.

I've never gotten hard watching two men kiss before. Hell, I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten hard watching a man and a woman kiss. Porn doesn't do much for me. But here I am, standing stock-still by the fridge, my jeans fully tented.

Tom's head whips around as he turns to face me. He tilts his lips into a half-smile. “You look as if you need to go somewhere more comfortable, Colin. Let’s find a bedroom posthaste.”

We’re all messy from the morning’s reno project, so we speed-shower in the three separate ensuites I installed, and I’ve never been so glad I decided to put a bathroom in every bedroom of this house.

It’s way too early to start talking about any of us showering together, and I’m too impatient to even imagine waiting for all three of us to shower one by one.

I step out of the shower in my master bedroom to find Tom and Gabe already making out next to the California King bed that takes up most of the space.

Tom’s wearing nothing but his jeans, and Gabe’s got on a t-shirt and some exercise shorts that look three sizes too big for him.

I nearly do a double-take when I realize they’re mine.

Tom pulls gently away from Gabe. “First rule, little one,” he says. “You will say stop to either one of us if you need to stop. And when you do, we stop.”

Gabe gulps and nods shakily, and then he leans over to bring his lips back against Tom’s. But Tom shakes his head.

“One more question first,” he asks softly. “Do you want to do more than kiss today?”

Gabe sucks in a long breath that sounds more like a gasp. He looks back and forth between us. “Yes,” he finally says. Or whispers, really. “I think I do.”

Fuuucccckkkkk.

I can't look away from them as Tom lays Gabe across the bed.

I'm so hard it hurts now, and I can't resist moving my hands to my crotch and rubbing myself over my jeans as Tom strips Gabe's sweatshirt and t-shirt over his head. “I’m feeling a little sad now that we didn’t do any co-showering today,” he says.

Gabe gasps lightly. “Maybe we could do that later?” he asks in a strangled voice.

Tom laughs. “You're dangerous, little one.” He leans over and starts kissing down Gabe's neck and across his chest. “Perhaps little one is the wrong nickname for you, Gabe Gomez. You’re more like a little minx.”

Gabe’s smile grows wider. But that name’s not quite right.

My legs are going weak, and I take a few steps so I can ease myself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. It creaks slightly as I lower myself. Tom glances over, and his eyes widen as he sees me stroking myself over my jeans.

“Not minx,” I whisper. “Little fox. That’s what you are, Gabe. Intelligent. Adaptable. Energetic. Resourceful. Resilient.”

And you’re taking me on the wildest chase of my life, I add in my head.

Tom traces a finger down Gabe’s cheek. “Yes,” he says.

“Little fox. That’s exactly what you are, Gabe.

” He draws the finger across Gabe’s lips, and Gabe moans.

The sound is like a shockwave through my body.

I've got no fucking idea exactly what's happening to me here. I’ve never, ever been this turned on in my life; I’m sure of that.

I never understood what other men meant about feeling some kind of desperate need for sex; I don’t even have the urge to masturbate all that often.

But right now I feel as though I might die if I can’t touch Gabe soon. Kiss him myself.

It’s like I’m driving down a straight road at top speed with no idea when a curve might be coming, and all I want to do is press down on the gas.

I push my hand harder against my dick as Tom goes back to kissing across Gabe's body.

Gabe arches his back when Tom starts teasing his nipple, and then it's like my body has a mind of its own, like I'm outside of myself watching, as my other hand reaches over to stroke Gabe's other cheek.

I play with his earlobe. I tease against his neck.

Gabe lets out a strangled cry and Tom sits up, away from Gabe. I lean over.

I press my lips to Gabe’s, and now we’re flying down the straight so fast the world is blurred.

And for the first time ever, I get what people have been saying about sex in books and movies for all these years.

There’s a thrumming energy pulsing through my entire body as Gabe’s lips press back and forth against mine, as our tongues start exploring.

My hand's moving again. Touching Gabe’s hand where it's lying next to his chest, running up his arm, his neck, and then up to his ear.

“Oh wow," Gabe whispers. I look down.

And I realize he's got his hand down his waistband.

Tom falls onto the bed on the other side of Gabe, the two of us bookending him while he and I kiss.

Tom goes back to kissing across Gabe's upper body, then his neck, his cheek, down the side of his lips.

Gabe's hand is moving faster now, and Tom slips his own hand on top of Gabe's shorts.

No, my shorts, because Gabe Gomez is wearing my clothing.

“Let it happen, little fox,” he whispers. “Come for us.”

Not come for me . But come for us .

Gabe whimpers sharply, and then his entire body seems to jerk upward as he spasms wildly against the bed.

It's beautiful. Watching him is beautiful.

Watching Tom's lips and hands move across his body is beautiful. The scene in front of me is so bright and striking that it seems to be lighting up the room around me with some kind of shocking glow. It’s as if my world, which has been so dark for so long now, is suddenly illuminated and bathed in sunlight.

“I can't—I can't—I need—”

When Gabe uses the word need I swear it’s like some kind of code word in my ears, scurrying me to action.

I bring a hand to the top of Gabe’s shorts as Tom falls across Gabe, kissing him hard.

Gabe lets out a high, sharp cry as he spasms against our hands once again, and then he falls back against the bed.

Tom and I fall next to him, cradling his head between ours. This was Gabe’s very first sexual experience. And I was part of it. There's a strange, heady power in knowing that, and I can't stop myself from pressing my hand harder against my jeans.

I glance across the bed and realize Tom’s doing the same thing. And then he does just a little more and slips his hand down his own pants.

I'm thinking of nothing and everything when I follow his lead and shove my own hand into my boxers.

I'm so close that it only takes a few strokes and tugs before I'm right at the edge. I glance over at Gabe. He looks wrung out and strung out, the way I know I always looked after a race. His mouth is hanging open as his eyes track back and forth between me and Tom.

“You two," he whispers. “I can't believe… I can't believe any of this.”

The sound of his voice pushes me another step closer to the edge of the cliff I'm standing on.

I hear Tom panting hard and then crying out across the quiet room.

I navigate the car in my brain straight down the road and into the hardest, strongest orgasm I've ever had in my life. Less than a few minutes later I’m asleep.

When Tom and I wake up hours later, Gabe is gone.