Page 72 of Tone Deaf
“We have all night,” I admit and begin to move faster.
“Hell yeah, we do,” Pen echoes as he slides his cock into Dom.
“You’re punishing me,” Dom moans.
“Yes, we are,” I say and bounce my ass against him, as Pen thrusts in counterpoint to my movements, so that Dom is being impaled as my ass is swallowing his length whole.
We are connected in so many ways. Our bodies, our minds and our hearts. There are no words—no songs that could truly capture what I feel for these two men. The depth of my affection for them goes beyond anything I can express—any song lyrics I think of.
The journey we’ve taken to get here may have been longer than we all anticipated, but looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. I’m so grateful for every step we’ve taken together, and for the bond we’ve built—it’s something I’ll carry with me always.
“I can’t wait any longer. Callum,” Pen groans. “Stroke yourself.”
“Yes,” I utter, trying to match the rhythm with Pen as he speeds up and drives deep into Dom’s ass.
But in true Dominic Rossetti fashion, he takes over. He clamps his hands on my shoulders and begins to move his hips. I brace one hand on the wall in front of me while jack myself.
Dom’s drills me faster and harder, all the while Pen is railing Dom just as roughly.
“I can’t—” I keen out, losing the rest of my words as my entire body becomes electrified and I come immediately.
Pen groans low and guttural, and Dom thrusts falters, before he growls out, “Fuck.”
I don’t know how long we stay connected, Dom’s heavy frame leaning against me, but I see Pen out of my periphery. Then Dom’s weight is gone, and he slowly pulls out of me.
“Baby,” Dom says before kissing Pen. He then reaches for me and leads me to the shower. We three barely fit the space, but none of us minds.
Once clean, we end up back in bed, where we kiss and touch each other, absorbing the love.
I take a slow deep inhale, breathing in the scent of our lovemaking, and I know this is where I’m supposed to be. In the arms of my two men.
Epilogue
Callum
“Are you ready to hit the stage?” Dante asks me through the lighted makeup mirror in the back room.
“Yes,” I say as I try to cover up the hickeys on my neck.Damn you, Dom, for doing this right before Rocktoberfest.
“Hell yeah, he is,” Danny announces as he adjusts the silver lamé vest he has on, which matches his painted-on jeans, and gives me a hip bump. “How much time do we have?” he asks Dante, who is fixing their lipstick.
“We have an hour and a half before we head to the stage.”
“I can’t believe we hit the primetime spot,” Bobby chimes in as he picks out his afro. He glances in the wall mirror and then at us. “Too much?”
“Not at all,” Danny says as he swipes his lips with the latest flavored lip balm.
“You do you,” Dante chimes in. “And why not the primetime? I worked hard getting you guys that spot. Warrior Black is going to kick ass tonight, too.”
“We always do,” Raef says as he sticks his head into the room. “Did anyone see Lyric?”
“I thought he was up front by the driver.” I point to the front of the bus.
Shortly after my father’s funeral, Lyric showed up at the San Francisco house and stayed. None of us had dared to ask Dante what they’d said to convince Lyric to come back, but we’re grateful. Having a medical person on staff has come in handy more times than we’d expected—thank God it’s been for minor stuff. No more gunshot wounds. I hope.
“Why?” Danny asks with a smile. “Do you have a booboo?”
“Fuck off, Danny. John wants him.”