Page 15

“Little one ... I-I’m going to?—”

“Come,” I beg. “Abi, I need it. I need you inside me.”

His hips are working faster than before, pulling almost all the way out before barreling back in. Every thrust is like an explosion, sending sparks of pleasure dancing up and down my spine. He slaps my hand away from my cock and takes over, pumping my shaft each time he enters and exits my hole. I don’t know how he fits so perfectly around me, but my own hand doesn’t even feel as natural as his. It’s as if in her infinite wisdom, the Goddess knew I would need him, just as much as he needs me, so she sculpted us each with the other in mind.

“Tell me you love me,” I cry out.

Our noses touch, and I don’t know that I’ve ever felt as close to someone as I feel right now. “I love you, sweetheart. I’m yours.”

“Mine,” I agree, meeting each of his thrusts with one of my own. I slide a hand down his back until it rests on his ass. I need it closer. He must realize, because he places all his weight on one hand and grabs my wrist. Bringing it to his mouth, he swallows me to the knuckle and guides me back to where I was. He doesn’t stop, just guides me further until my fingers slide into his crack. The next thing I know, he’s pressing the tip of my finger inside him, easing me in.

The moment I’m engulfed in his warm passage, I lose all control, and I feel pressure mount in my spine. He’s going to make me come again. It’s been less than fifteen minutes, and I’m ready to shoot the biggest load of my life.

“Abi—Daddy ... I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come again.”

“Do it,” he pleads. “Come with me. I’m right there with you.” He lets out a growl and throws his head back, lost in his pleasure. “Come on my cock, Tatum.”

I explode, painting his chest with my second load of the evening. It’s even stronger than last time, going on and on until it feels like I’m shooting nothing but air. When I finally look down, it’s still jetting out of the tip. I have no idea how, but it feels like my semen source is never-ending, and I’m truly afraid this moment will never end. We’ll be stuck in an unstoppable circle of pleasure.

“Fuck. Tatum. You’re milking me, baby. I can feel you ... I feel you—Everything. This is everything.” His mouth hangs open, and he’s fucking smiling like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. “I love you,” he manages, and it’s the first time I feel the words. Truly feel them. They’re tangible, hanging in the air in front of me, bumping and crashing until words of my own work their way up my throat.

“Abi?” I wait for him to look at me, and when he does, I offer something that isn’t mine to give. Hope. I cup his cheek. “I love you, too.”

The words surprise him just as much as they surprise me. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open like he’s going to say something, but the only thing that leaves him is a groan. His hips stop all movement, and he just stays there, his eyes rolling back in his head as he sobs my name. Warmth spreads inside, and it’s only now I realize he’s coming. There’s no protective barrier keeping it out. His cum is coating my insides, making me his.

“Again,” he pleads. I’ve never heard him sound so desperate.

“I love you,” I say again, squeezing his cock even harder, milking him for all he’s worth. “I’m yours, Abi.”

He falls on my chest and wraps his arms around me, holding on for dear life. His body is shaking, and whether he’s rocked with pleasure or if he’s just overwhelmed by my admission, I can’t be sure. I hold him through it, clinging to him like a life raft in the center of the sea. Once his body is still and the only sound in the room is our matching breaths, he pulls away from my chest and stares at me.

My cheeks are warm with embarrassment, because even though I meant the admission in the moment, I’m terrified he’s going to question me on my reasoning. I’m pretty sure I still mean the words, if I’m being honest, but I don’t think I’m ready to broach that subject yet. He can read me like a book, though, and instead of second guessing my declaration, he leans in and kisses me softly.

We stay like this for a while, me watching him, him watching me. Eventually, he pulls away and moves to stand. My asshole aching, I sit up, bringing my knees to my chest as I wrap my arms around them. Abi turns, and I’m gifted the sight of his cock, coated in our cum which is now white and frothy from the friction. He grabs his gray slacks from where they were discarded earlier, startling and dropping them on the floor again when I shout, “Wait!”

Turning his head, he arches an eyebrow at me. I grab my phone from where I tossed it on the bed earlier and bring up my camera, snapping a quick photo of his ass.

“For later,” I explain, locking my phone and placing it beside me on the bed.

He just stands there, laughing to himself as he grabs his discarded pants with his toes and kicks them into the air, catching them with ease. As he slips into them, he lets the waist linger beneath his cheeks, giving me an unobstructed view of the promised land. “If you would like to take more photographs to add to your collection, I’m happy to pose.”

My lips curl into a grin as I fall back into my default setting of sassy son of a bitch . “I’ve seen enough of your big hairy ass to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”

“Perhaps,” he says, and for reasons I don’t quite understand, he bends over, exposing every inch of himself. Mother of all that is holy, his hole is perfection. A dark dusting of fur that swirls around his pink pucker. Part of me wants to dive off the bed and press my lips against it, offering it a goodnight kiss. Obviously, I resist that urge, because I’m not a wild animal incapable of rational behavior. It’s a well-fought battle, though. “Collect your things and get dressed. We will destroy what’s upstairs, and then I will fuck you on their bed.”

My eyes bulge at the suggestion. “I think I’m going to need a little time to ...” The words die on my tongue when he turns around, showing me his still-throbbing erection. I’m pretty sure my heart just stopped beating entirely. “... recover.”

He strokes himself slowly—motherfucking obscenely—as he cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. “You told me anytime I want, earlier, did you not?”

“Yes, well,” I huff, forcing an eye roll when really I want to roll my tongue around his cock. “I was in the midst of a vicious buggering. You can’t believe a word that comes out of my mouth when I’m being fucked.”

He looks pained for a moment, and it takes a second for me to realize he may think I’m alluding to the way I declared my love for him while in the throes of passion. He opens his mouth like he’s going to ask for clarification, only to snap it shut and give me a nod.

I could reassure him. I could put him at ease by saying those three words again, but I don’t. And, with each second that passes, the silence seeps through the room like a fog, hiding and hoarding the admission I made earlier.

There’s hurt on his face, and I’m the one who put it there. The worst part is, no matter how much I want to take his hurt away, I just sit here, letting the silence spread around us.

“I would like to fuck you again, if you’ll allow it,” he finally says. I look at him, surprised to find him smiling. “Will you let me?”

I can’t give him the admission he deserves, but I can give him this. So, I nod. “Yeah. You can fuck me again.”

Five minutes later, after we’re both dressed, Abi picks me up, places me on his hip, and carries me toward the stairs. My hands cling desperately to him as I suck his neck, wanting to leave my mark. Tomorrow, I want our friends and family to see the purple and blue marks left on his porcelain skin. He can wear it as his scarlet letter, and maybe if I ask nicely, he’ll give me one to wear as well.

I continue sucking as he reaches the landing and pauses in front of Benito’s bedroom. With a scream that could rival a slasher flick victim, he lifts his leg and kicks the door off its hinges, the same way he did downstairs.

I don’t stop sucking his skin. Not when he sucks in a quick breath, not when I hear him mumble something in Russian, and not when I hear another voice whimpering in the corner of the room.

“Please don’t hurt me,” the voice says, and it’s one I recognize, but can’t quite place. Reluctantly, I pry my lips away from Abi’s neck long enough to look over my shoulder, and what I see makes my blood run cold. “Tater Tot?”

There, in the corner of the room, is my ex-boyfriend, Benjamin. My Benji. For reasons I don’t understand, he’s inside a large metal cage, his arms wrapped around his legs, holding them to his chest, his body shaking with nerves.

Is he in a fucking dog crate?

“Benji?” As soon as I get the name out, it’s like someone’s flipped a switch inside his head. He lets go of his legs and lunges forward.

“Tatum!” He reaches through the bars of his cage, sticking one hand out for me, flailing it desperately. I don’t understand what the hell is going on, but the facts don’t matter right now—Benji does. I rush over, falling to my knees when I reach him, grabbing his hand and holding on for dear life. Benji’s got a sleepy smile on his face, and he’s staring at me like my presence is the greatest gift he’s ever been given. He uses his other hand to grip my wrist, and I have to fight back a wince as his nails dig into my skin. “Where have you been? I looked everywhere!” He pulls my hand inside the cage and holds it against the side of his face just staring at me with his big blue eyes. His hair is longer than when I left. Usually, he keeps it short on the sides with a little fluff of blond hair at the top. Now, it’s frizzy all over, and it looks like it hasn’t seen a hairbrush in months.

I search for the latch, but my stomach twists into knots when I find it’s padlocked. “Benji? Babes, where’s the key?”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. I’ve only been here a couple of days. When Nito gets home, he’s gonna let me out. He promised.”

I clench the hand not holding Benji into a fist, trying my best to bite my tongue. “A couple of days? He’s kept you in here the whole time he’s been gone?”

Benji’s smile radiates pride. “I told him I could be his good boy again. This is my way of proving it.” He bites his lip and looks away, staring at the wall. When I turn to see what he’s staring at, I notice a large dry erase board secured to the wall where a picture of the Bens, Austin, and myself once hung. On the board, Benji and Bennet’s names are written in large, hastily scrawled letters. There’s another name scribbled at the bottom, but I can’t make out the handwriting. Green checkmarks and red frowny-face emojis fill the small boxes next to their names. Benji’s are mostly sad faces and red slashes. Bennet’s column has a little less red and a bit more green, though not by much. The third name has pink hearts scattered all over the place, making it look like a poorly constructed Valentine’s Day card.

“What the hell is that?” I ask.

“That’s our scoreboard. Nito put it up a few days after you left. He said he needed to monitor us so we don’t end up like you and Austin.” He darts his eyes away from me and stares at the floor. “I’ve been a bad boy, Tate. I try and try to do better, but I just keep messing up.” He sniffles, and it’s a sound that cracks my ice-cold heart in two. “Nito said you left because of me, so I’ve been trying to be good so Bennet doesn’t leave me, too. That’s why Daddy put me in here—so I could think about how bad I’ve been and what I can do to fix it.” He forces a smile—the same forced smile I used to wear when I would sit in the chair, waiting for them to finish so I could go to sleep—but it’s only now that I notice the tear stains on his cheeks. “He’s gonna be so proud of me when he gets home. I just know it.”

The trip to Guadalajara was supposed to last a week. That son of a bitch planned to leave Benji in a goddessdamned cage for seven days. It’s a revelation that makes me want to burn this fucking townhouse to the ground.

“Where’s the key?” I ask, fiddling with the padlock.

“Nito wears it on a chain around his neck. He’s gonna open it up as soon as he gets home, though. He said so.”

I draw in another deep breath and give Benji a nod. “Abi?” He doesn’t respond, just grunts in acknowledgment. “Do you think you can break this lock somehow? ”

Benji’s eyes widen, and his grip tightens around my wrist. He’s shaking his head frantically. “No! You can’t. He’s gonna be so mad if he gets home and sees I’m not in here anymore.”

I growl at him. “He locked you in a fucking cage for a week without food or water. If you think I’m leaving you here, you’re fucking high.”

“I’ve got water.” He points at a small water dispenser that’s been attached to the side of the crate. There’s a long silver straw at the bottom for Benji to suck on. An overwhelming rush of anger floods my veins. “And Nito says the human body can go without food for weeks. Besides,” he says, letting go of my hand long enough to squeeze his non-existent stomach. “He said I’ve been letting myself go, so my body can probably feed off my fat for a few weeks if they decide to extend their trip.”

“I’ll kill him,” I mutter. “And Bennet just went along with this?”

Benji shakes his head. “Nito said it’s our little secret. I think he took Bennet with him, because I ain’t heard from him since they left. Nito took Bennet away from me a week ago because I was bad. I miss him so much, Tater Tot.”

The Bens have been best friends since they were toddlers. They’re basically brothers, minus the familial relation. When we were together—before Benito tore us apart—the jealous looks they’d give each other when I’d pay a bit more attention to one than the other was always like a cold bucket of water being flung at my face, ripping me out of the moment. They love each other on a deeper level than anything I’ve witnessed before. If Bennet knew what Nito had done to Benji, I’m pretty sure it would be the straw that broke the twink’s back.

“I swear on everything, Abi, if you don’t break this cage open, I’ll—” My words end with a squeak when Abi reaches over me, grabbing the flimsy bars keeping me from Benji, and pulls them apart with minimal effort. The action creates a gap small enough for Benji to slide through, but he’s backing away from us. Thankfully, there isn’t much room for him to retreat. I look at Abi. He’s grinding his teeth back and forth, and he’s got a hand clenched at his side. “Babe?”

He blinks, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear a mental fog. “Da?”

“Thank you,” I say. He doesn’t respond, just kneels beside me and places his hands on each side of the crate.

“Benjamin?” He waits for Benji to look up at him before flashing a smile that doesn’t seem terribly genuine. His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. “My name is Kincaid. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Benji closes his eyes tightly. “He’s gonna be so mad when he sees you broke the cage.” He sniffles, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “He told me if I tried to get out, he’d take Bennet away forever.” When he opens his eyes, they’re sadder than I’ve ever seen them. Benji is normally such a happy, cheerful little guy. During the six months I’ve been away, Nito has taken that happiness and smashed it down to dust. Where Benji once radiated pride, he’s now curling in on himself in fear. “I haven’t seen Bennet in so long.” His jaw is trembling like he might burst into tears at any moment. “I miss him so much, Tater Tot. He’s my?—”

He's Benji’s other half. Twin stars sparkling side by side. Beginning to end.

I have to physically bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something that will make him even more upset. “You’re okay, babes.” Wanting to lift his spirits, I point at the board. “What’s that last name at the bottom?” Reaching through the bars, I cup his cheek. “Does someone have a new boyfriend?”

Any hope of having this be a gentle change of topic dies when Benji’s lip quivers and his eyes fill with tears. “Parker. He’s Nito’s new boyfriend.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Just Nito’s? What about you and Bennet?”

“Parker don’t like us touching on him when he’s with Nito. He doesn’t even want us in the room. Nito tried to make us sit in the chair and watch, but then Parker got mad. We don’t get to watch them at all now. We have to stand in the corner facing the wall and wait until it’s over.”

“The more I hear of this Benito fellow,” Abi says, “the less I care for him.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Benji responds, but it’s clear his resistance is fading. The little guy looks all tuckered out. Whatever happens next, we need to get him out of here and back to my parents’ house. Mom and Dad have always loved the Bens. They won’t mind him staying over.

“Abi?” I look up at him, my expression pleading. I need him to make this right, because I don’t know how to. He’s told me I can trust him with my heart, and my heart is breaking right now. “Please?”

He stares at me for a moment like he’s trying to read my mind. It happens in a flash. Abi reaches into his pocket and pulls out a syringe. The cap falls to the floor, and before Benji can react, Abi jabs him in the arm and plunges the serum into his bloodstream. Benji’s eyes widen and his body shakes. Having taken the cocktail more times than I can count, I know what’s in store for Benji. Warmth. Fear. Peace. Sleep.

“What was that?” Benji asks, his voice frantic. He looks terrified, and all I want is to cradle him close and tell him it’s okay. Abi must know what I need, because he reaches down into the crate and pulls Benji through the opening he’s created. Motioning toward the bed, he urges me over. I take a seat on the edge and watch as Abi lowers Benji into my lap. Much to my surprise, Benji makes no effort to scurry away. Instead, he wraps his arms around me and holds on tight.

“Why did you have to leave?” he asks with a sniffle. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, kissing his forehead. The endearment isn’t meant in a romantic manner, but when I look up at Abi, he must think it was, because he won’t make eye contact with me. I want to reassure him that any chance of a rekindled romance is off the table, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

Eventually, Benji’s tears stop, and his breathing steadies. He’s fallen asleep on my lap, and I can’t bear the thought of waking him. We can’t stay here, though. The neighbors will wake eventually. Abi must be thinking the same, because once Benji’s settled, he scoops him up.

“Will he try to run when he wakes up?” he asks.

“Probably. If he thinks it’ll lessen his chances of losing Bennet or Benito, he will.”

Abi nods. “Then we will tie him to the bed.” He nudges his head toward the door. “I’m going to take him to the car. Grab anything he might need and meet us out there.” He kneels, holding Benji against his chest as he gives me a quick kiss. “I’m sorry I did not get to fuck you again, Tatum.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed too, but getting laid isn’t a priority at the moment. All that matters is getting out of this Goddess-forsaken townhouse and carting Benji to safety.

“Don’t worry,” I say, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

He stares at me, his stoic expression hiding away his feelings. As much control as he has over his face, his voice is filled with cracks of doubt. “All the time in the world,” he agrees.

Once he’s gone, I pack a small bag of Benji’s items. Shirts and shorts. Matching outfits for Bennet. Once we get Benji settled, I’ll need to head across town and try to find Bennet. It shouldn’t be hard, truthfully. Benjamin is Bennet’s entire world. He has no friends outside the relationship, so if he isn’t sleeping on the pull-out sofa in Nito’s office at the bar, he’ll be at his mom’s.

I rush around the room like a lunatic, collecting anything else they might need. Once I’m done in the bedroom, I head into the bathroom, across the hall. I’m putting Benji’s deodorant into the bag when I hear a thud overhead, startling me. There’s another thud. It sounds like someone’s walking above us. The only room above is the attic, and last time I saw it, it was filled with mementos and boxes from our pre-polyamorous lives.

There’s a pair of small scissors in the medicine cabinet, so I grab them, wedging them between my index and middle fingers, pointed outward. It’s my only means of protection, and for all I know, there could be a home intruder in the attic. I walk slowly out of the bathroom, then to the end of the hall. The door at the far side of the townhouse leads up to the attic, and when it opens, it squeaks from disuse. Above, a set of feet scurry away, and each step I take toward them fills me with fear. Once I’m upstairs, my eyes bulge.

The room isn’t how I remember it. Before I left, boxes and suitcases filled the space to its limit, making the attic look like something you’d see on an episode of Hoarders . Now, it’s empty, save for a stained, twin-size mattress. There’s no bedding or sheets to be seen, and no pillow either. There’s an old air conditioner in the window looking out on the back yard, and it’s blasting freezing air through the small room. Everything else is gone. There are no boxes. No discarded relics from the Bens’ lives before our relationship.

As I slowly approach the bed, I hear a sniffle, and when I turn around, it feels like I’ve been pushed from a plane without a parachute. There, in the corner, is Bennet. He’s curling in on himself with his knees tucked against his chest, his arms folded around them, holding on for dear life. He isn’t looking at me. He’s just staring at the floor like a caged animal who’s given up hope of ever tasting freedom.

“Bennet?”

His head jerks up, and when our eyes meet, he lets out a shaky breath. Neither of us speak, we remain locked in place, staring. Eventually, I take a step forward, only to pause when I see his face flinch. Kneeling, I hold my arms open like an owner coaxing his fearful dog out from under the bed.

“Bennet, it’s just me,” I say, but he just stares at me, still in a haze. “It’s Tatum. ”

He blinks a few times before my voice finally registers. “Tate?” The second I nod, he’s in motion, vaulting up from the floor and sprinting toward me. He jumps into my arms, wrapping his body around me. I’m not sure where I find the strength to hold him steady without falling, but somehow, I manage.

He’s not saying anything. I ask him over and over what he’s doing up here, but he just holds on to me with all his strength. When he refuses to acknowledge me, I know I need to do something. I’m holding him steady, but he doesn’t seem to have any plan of letting me go, and I know I’m not strong enough to walk him down two flights of stairs. So I walk us toward the small mattress and ease down until we’re seated.

The scent of ammonia is strong around us, and it takes me a moment to realize what the familiar scent is, and where it’s coming from. For reasons I don’t understand, the mattress smells like someone’s soaked it in urine and allowed it to marinate in the Texas heat for weeks on end. It’s a vile, unbearable stench, so I make the conscious effort to breathe through my mouth.

“I missed you,” I say, kissing his scalp. The longer he sobs, the more my heart cracks at the sound. I notice something on the wall ahead of me, and it takes me a second to realize there’s something written on it. The room is dark, so I can’t make out the words no matter how hard I try.

I reach into my pocket and grab my phone, typing a quick message to Abi. Less than a minute later, Abi’s footsteps echo up the stairway leading to the attic, and then he’s in front of me, kneeling. His eyes are focused on Bennet who still isn’t speaking.

“We need to get them home,” I finally say. “I can’t carry him.”

Abi nods, and as he does, he takes another syringe out of his pocket. “Will we need this?” he asks me.

Truthfully, I’m not sure. Bennet’s never been violent, and I don’t see that changing in the near future. He has to be emotionally exhausted, though, and this would go a lot smoother if he were asleep. Then, he could just wake up and all of it would be over. He’d be at my parents’ house with people who love him.

He doesn’t flinch when the needle pierces his skin. He just sighs, sounding exhausted. Unlike Benji, he doesn’t seem afraid. If anything, his body going slack against me tells me he’s finally feeling the sweet rush of relief.

It takes less than ten minutes for his snoring to fill the empty room around us. Abi carefully takes Bennet out of my arms and into his, then motions toward the stairs. I follow behind, but pause when I reach the wall. Now that I’m closer, I can finally see what’s been written. In white chalk, Bennet has written the words “I’m a bad boy, but I can be better,” over and over. The words are small, and he’s left almost no space left untouched.

I don’t know if the words are a form of punishment from Benito, or if Bennet’s simply gone a bit mad during his isolation, but I’m not letting this continue another second longer. I don’t give a fuck if we have to tie them to a bed for the rest of their lives, I’m not letting Benito touch them again.

I spot the used piece of chalk resting on the floor. Using the cape attached to my shirt, I wipe away the horrible words Bennet’s written. Once I’ve grabbed the chalk, I leave a warning of sorts in the center of the chalkboard.

They’re mine.