Page 10 of Kylan (The Wylde Street Boys #3)

TEN

MAREK

Kylan was exhausted.

He was physically and emotionally wiped out, dehydrated, and under nourished.

He didn’t need hospitalisation or even a doctor.

The fact he was drinking and eating, and passing urine, was reassuring enough that we could manage that on our own. We could ensure his body received the right nutrients and adequate hydration and enough rest.

What we couldn’t do was fix the lifetime of neglect and abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his family, his father.

Sure, we could safeguard him, make sure he knew he was safe and loved, protected. And, moving forward, that was great.

But we couldn’t repair the damage that was done. Not on our own.

He was going to need professional help for that. Help that we could encourage and pay for, but it was Kylan who needed to take that first step.

All we could do was hold his hands and gently steer him in the right direction. We couldn’t make him get help. We couldn’t make him do anything.

There was no contract, no obligations to be met on a legal basis. This was a relationship now, not a clause in a binding agreement.

After we’d all had a much-needed nap, Kylan wanted to venture downstairs. He needed a change of scenery, and his room was beginning to feel too small.

He wanted to cuddle up with us on the sofa and watch a movie—with him in the middle, of course—which was perfect, and to be honest, something the three of us needed.

We needed to feel connected while also being very normal.

If normal was something we ever were . . .

While being very much boyfriends.

Because maybe that is what we all were?

I still wasn’t sure . . .

“Can I ask something?” Kylan asked. The movie was clearly not holding his attention.

“Sure,” Leon replied.

“Will you tell me about your families?” he asked. “What your personal lives are like? Where you grew up, that kind of thing. I realised I don’t know anything about that. Is that something I should know?”

I chuckled. “Of course, darling. My parents are here in Sydney. My mother was born in France, and she met my father when he travelled to Europe after college.”

“Oh, how romantic,” he whispered. “And Leon? What about you?”

“My father passed away sixteen years ago,” he said. “My mother remarried. They live on the northern beaches.”

Kylan nodded eagerly.

“I have one brother,” Leon added. “And Marek has four siblings.”

He shot me a look. “Four?”

I chuckled. “Yes. Two brothers, two sisters.”

“And they... they know you’re gay?” Kylan made a face. “I mean, you’re married, so I guess they do.”

“Do you mean are they okay with it?” Leon asked.

“I guess.”

“Sure,” I replied with a shrug. “Not that it would have mattered either way. Because the day I met Leon, I knew I was going to spend my life with him.”

Kylan’s whole face lit up and he wiggled happily. “Tell me about how you met.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Well, we met when we were at university, as you know,” I answered. “It was a block party and I was drunk and dancing with another guy.”

Kylan giggled and nodded for me to continue.

“And in walked this absolutely gorgeous man. Tall, confident, stunning. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.”

“I was also very sober,” Leon added. “I’d just finished work. I walked in and there he was—tight jeans, shirt unbuttoned, cute moustache—slutting it up with another man.”

Kylan was grinning now. “And what did you do?”

Leon looked at me when he answered. “I walked over and kissed him.”

“When he was dancing with another guy?”

“Absolutely. I thought that right there is the man I am going to marry .”

Kylan swooned, so enthralled. “So what happened with the other guy?”

“Oh, we fucked him good and proper that night,” I answered.

Kylan laughed and clapped his hands. “That’s perfect.”

“And a few more nights that year, if I remember correctly,” Leon said, his eyes on mine.

I chuckled, because of course he remembered correctly.

“So you’ve always been into threesomes?” Kylan asked.

“Pretty much.” I nodded. “I do bottom, occasionally, but I don’t love it. I don’t crave it.” Then I made a face. “I’m better at topping.”

“Yes, you are,” Kylan agreed.

That made me chuckle. “We’ve always invited a third into our beds. Usually someone smaller that we could pass between us, manhandle easily. We were just always drawn to twinks and pretty femboys.”

Leon hummed. “Then, about fifteen years ago, we met a twink at a bar. He called us daddy, and that unlocked a new set of doors for us.”

Kylan made a contented sound. “Thank you bar-twink for paving the way for me.”

That made me laugh. “So yes, to answer your question, yes, we’ve always had a third. Very rarely a repeat though. We did have a contract in place with another man, maybe five years ago now?”

I looked at Leon and he nodded.

“What happened to him?” Kylan asked, frowning now.

“He met someone,” I replied, smiling at the fond memory. “He was a barista. Liked a bit of kink. Loved the toys, loved having two daddies.”

“But then he met another man,” Leon added. “And that was that. We were happy for him. He was... he was fun. I suggested the NDA because the café he worked at was in the legal district. He met a lot of our colleagues and associates.”

Kylan nodded. “Sounds fair.”

“And I thought,” Leon added with a sigh, “when we agreed to have you on a regular basis that we should have some sort of similar arrangement. I didn’t realise how it would make you feel.”

Kylan shook his head. “And I didn’t either. Like I said, at first I liked it. But then I didn’t.”

“We’re glad you told us,” I said. “Anything you’re not comfortable with, you need to let us know.”

“I won’t ever tell anyone anything about us anyway,” Kylan added. “I know that doesn’t mean much in a legal sense. But I won’t ever betray you. If someone ever asks me anything—about what I wear for you, about the toys we use, the names we use—I’ll tell them I don’t know what they’re talking about.” He shrugged. “Well, probably except Fitch. He’s a total whore for details. Explicit details. But he knows not to tell anyone. It’s a hooker code. Never snitch.”

Leon took Kylan’s hand and smiled with a quiet sigh. “I know you won’t. I trust you.”

“I do too,” I chimed in. “Though we should probably work out what we’re going to tell people. When we go to family functions or to work events. We’ll need to have our stories straight because you know people will ask.”

Kylan’s wide eyes met mine. “Family functions? Work events?” He shook his head. “Uh, I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I... When I said I wanted us to be more public, I was thinking maybe dinner with Fitch or Benji, and Dominic and Nolan, of course. Or coffee at a café. Something much more low-key than family gatherings and work events.”

Leon chuckled. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. And maybe we should give him some time to acclimate before he meets your sisters,” he said, smiling at me. “But yes, we should devise a plan of action for what to tell people.”

“You could tell them I’m a nephew or something,” Kylan offered. “Or a long-lost child from some experimental hook-up with a woman.”

I barked out a laugh. “Or we could go with something a little more honest. ”

“Such as?” Kylan whispered.

“That you’re our boyfriend?” I looked at Leon to see what he thought, and he smiled.

“I’m happy with that.”

“Boyfriend?” Kylan looked stunned and a little bewildered, truth be told.

“Is that not okay?” I asked him.

He let out a high-pitched laugh. “Uh, yes! I just didn’t think... I wasn’t sure if that’s... Is that what I am? A boyfriend?”

I gestured between myself and Leon. “Husband.” Then I pointed to him. “Boyfriend.”

Kylan nodded and laughed all at once, his hand to his forehead. “This is crazy. Can I call Fitch? I should probably check in anyway, but he’s gonna freak out.”

“Of course you can,” Leon said. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

Kylan leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, daddy,” he said, then shot up off the sofa and raced upstairs.

Leon blushed, and damn, if it wasn’t the cutest thing ever. I took Kylan’s place and snuggled into Leon. “We’re going to be okay.”

Leon gave me a squeeze. “Yeah, I think we will.”

Because we weren’t going into work the next day, we had a late breakfast with an agenda for the day of doing not much at all .

Kylan had slept in his bed alone last night.

After dinner, Leon had suggested he get a good night’s sleep so he woke up feeling a hundred percent tomorrow.

Kylan didn’t love the idea, but he still needed to rest and recover, and he needed to know that this new arrangement was more than just sex.

It was also nice for me and Leon to spend the night sleeping in each other’s arms. We needed to reconnect too. Not in a sexual way but in a closeness, been-together-for-twenty-five years kind of way.

But by mid-afternoon, after lingering hugs and his need to be close and touching us, I could tell Kylan was more than just bored. He was uncomfortable. As if he wanted to ask us something but was unsure how.

He’d eaten well, he’d drank a lot of water and juice, he said he felt great.

“Come here, darling,” I said. I pulled him onto my lap, and he was quick to lean in, his head against my neck. “Is something on your mind?”

He was quiet for a long moment that told me yes, something was on his mind.

“I know daddy said I need to recover,” he murmured.

As soon as he’d used the word daddy, I knew where this was going.

He squirmed a little. “And I know daddy knows best.”

I rubbed his back. “Yes, we want you to be back to your old self, darling.”

He squirmed again. “I feel fine, daddy. I feel like...”

“Like what, sweetheart?” I soothed, rocking him a little.

“Like I’d feel so much better if you fucked me.” He arched his back a little, squirming still. “I think I need it, daddy. I need you both to have me. I need you to prove to me that I’m yours. Please, daddy?”

I hummed.

We’d wondered how long we should leave it until we broached the subject with him. We needed to show patience and restraint while he made the decision about what he needed.

I guess he’d just made his mind up.

“Will daddy mind?” Kylan asked, his eyes wide with innocence. “I don’t want him to get mad or tell me no because he thinks I’m not feeling better. But daddy, I am,” he said. Then he palmed his crotch and winced. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I put my finger to his chin and pulled his face up. “Go upstairs and get yourself ready. I’ll go talk to daddy.”

Because I knew Leon, and I knew that he wanted the same thing. He wanted to celebrate this new stage in our relationship. He’d wanted to take Kylan into our bed last night, but he’d said Kylan needed the rest. That he’d needed time to adjust and to feel safe with us without the presumption of sex.

But he’d wanted him.

The same way I’d wanted him. But Leon was right. We had to let Kylan take the lead and be the one to tell us when he was ready.

Which he’d just done .

I watched Kylan disappear up the stairs, then went to find Leon in his office. He’d had a few emergency business things to take care of, but he’d been gone a while.

The door was ajar and I could see him at his desk, sitting back in his chair, staring at some papers on his desk. I lightly knocked, startling him. “Hey,” I said, walking in.

He smiled at me. “Hey.”

I walked around to his side of the desk, swivelled his desk chair around, and sat on his lap. He slung one arm around my waist, the other resting on my knee. “You looked lost in thought. Everything okay?”

He hummed and picked up the papers, handing them to me.

It was the NDA we’d all signed.

“Oh.”

“Should we sign a release statement?” he asked. “Or just tear it up?”

I sighed. “Maybe we should ask Kylan.”

He nodded, looking up at me and smiling. “Where is he?”

I laughed. “Well, about that . . .”