Page 51 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

“What did you have for dinner?” Marshall asked, kissing the corner of my mouth. “The house smells delicious.”

“This hole in the wall Middle Eastern place we found after we moved into our apartment,” I said.

“The,” Lincoln corrected. “Mine.”

“Fuck you.” I smacked his face again and gave Marshall a smile. “I had a salad, and he had lamb.”

“It smells great. You’ll have to take me sometime.”

I hummed happily and nodded .

“How was your day?” he asked, squinting. “I tried to call you a little while ago, but you didn’t answer.”

I patted my pockets, shoving Lincoln up with a knee to get to them. They were empty.

“Oh, shit.” Heat burned my face. “I left it in the bedroom. I wasn’t thinking. Or I was thinking too much. I…sorry, Sir.”

Lincoln made a very contemplative sound, then rolled onto his side to face the TV, leaving Marshall and me both grunting for how bony he was.

“It’s all right.” Marshall stretched an arm across the back of the couch and pulled me to him so our legs touched beneath Lincoln’s weight. “Did the two of you have a good night?”

“Yeah. Yes. What about you?”

“Smith is struggling with the new brother thing,” he said, “but I think he’s in a better place now.”

“Good.”

I handed Lincoln the remote since I didn’t think he was at all interested in the news, and when he started to scroll through the channels, I rested my head on Marshall’s shoulder.

It was some kind of perfection in that moment, I thought, my boyfriend and my best friend in the same place.

The peace, the steadfast comfort I stole from the both of them.

Half an hour later, Lincoln rolled onto his back and blinked up at me. His eyes were a little red in the corners, lashes dark and fanned across his cheeks.

“I’m gonna move,” he said.

I bit the inside of my cheek and managed half of a nod. The set of his jaw and sheen in his eyes confirmed he’d been thinking hard about it since we’d talked, and he’d made up his mind.

“Thank God,” Marshall said, reaching between their bodies and shoving his hand under Lincoln’s hip. “You’re ridiculously bony.”

It wasn’t what he’d meant, but Marshall didn’t know that. Lincoln gave me an uncertain smile, then moved off Marshall’s lap and onto mine.

“Can I ask Silas to get me a drink?” he asked Marshall.

“You can ask, but he doesn’t have to do it.”

Marshall stretched, arms and legs out until something cracked. He was still dressed from work, and there was no way that was comfortable for him.

“Would you get me a drink?”

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Some wine,” Marshall answered on his behalf.

Lincoln’s nostrils flared.

“Did you want a glass too, Sir?” I asked, unwrapping Lincoln from my lap to stand.

“A small one.”

“Can I help you change first?”

Lincoln made an unimpressed noise in the back of his throat, but he already knew the truth of me, and he’d known the truth of my relationship with Marshall long before I’d been willing to admit it to myself.

“Of course, Silas.”

“Get your own wine,” I said to Lincoln, shoving him toward the kitchen.

He grumbled but laughed, heading for the kitchen while I trailed Marshall into the bedroom. I could have made undressing him a whole thing, but I didn’t want to keep Lincoln waiting too long, considering how tentative things were between us with both of our upcoming relocations.

Marshall watched me quietly as I undid all the buttons on his shirt and stripped him out of it, moving to his belt and pants next, and finally his underwear.

On my knees in front of him, I pressed my cheek against his groin and inhaled deeply.

The musky smell of him wasn’t just arousing, it was also comforting.

His fingers carding gently through my hair while I breathed him in only doubled all of those feelings .

“Is everything all right?” he asked quietly, letting me lean on him.

“Better than,” I promised.

“With Lincoln?”

“It will be.”

Marshall helped me to my feet and pulled me against his chest. His hands slid around my waist and down, cupping my ass as he pressed our mouths together. He kissed me urgently but quickly, then shoved me away with a low growl.

“I’ll have my way with you later,” he warned, giving a slow, overhanded stroke to his already thickening cock.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Get me some clothes.”

I nodded and turned for the dresser, but no sooner had I got the drawer open than he was on me, hand reaching wildly into my pants and between my legs.

Marshall grabbed my balls, kneading them almost too aggressively in his hand.

I gasped, grabbing the dresser for support while he had his way with me, which apparently ended when I began to pant and beg him for more.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, nipping at my earlobe before reaching around and taking the clothes out of my hand. I was half-dazed with pleasure while he dressed himself behind me, looking smug and self-satisfied with the problem he’d created between my legs.

“I want you to take your phone into the bathroom, Silas, and I want you to record yourself jerking off,” he said.

“Sorry. What?”

“Is recording a limit?”

I shook my head to clear it, the chain of events giving me whiplash. “No, Sir.”

“Take your phone and record yourself jerking off,” he repeated. “You can’t take that erection and those basketball shorts back out to your best friend. ”

We both knew it wouldn’t have been the first time Lincoln saw my erect cock, even if he had no interest in it, but getting myself off didn’t sound like a horrible idea so I wasn’t about to bring it up.

“Yes, Sir,” I rasped.

Marshall gave me a slow and lingering look, then nodded his chin toward the bed. I scampered over there for my phone and took it into the bathroom.

The hardest part was finding a good angle, a comfortable position.

In the end, I propped it up against the wall and sank down to my knees in front of it.

Spitting in my palm, it didn’t take more than five minutes for me to make myself come.

The orgasm was lacking because I was alone, but it did enough to relieve the pressure in my balls that I’d be able to get through the rest of the night without poking Lincoln’s back with it.

I licked my hand clean and thanked Marshall before ending the video, then I washed my hands and left my phone on the bed before returning to the living room.

I found Marshall and Lincoln there, the former on the brand new coffee table and the latter on the couch.

Marshall was leaned in, Lincoln’s hands held in his as he said something that obviously wasn’t meant for my ears.

Lincoln nodded, sniffling, and behind them I cleared my throat.

Lincoln startled, but Marshall—as always—held steady, keeping his body language the same but shooting a look in my direction.

“Are you sorted?” he asked.

I nodded.

He looked at Lincoln. “Are you sorted?”

Lincoln nodded.

“Alright then.” He gave Lincoln’s hands a squeeze, then angled his head toward the kitchen and asked, “Who wants some wine?”