23. Hard Time
Chapter 23
Hard Time
COLE
“ Y ou said the guest rooms weren’t made up.”
“Correct.”
“And now they are.”
“Also correct.”
I looked up from where I sat at a desk in one of those rooms to see Callie and Marco arguing in the hallway.
She had her hands on her hips, and her stubborn jaw lifted, fighting for the illusion that he didn’t tower over her by nearly a foot and a half. “Which means I can sleep in one.”
“No.”
“But you told me resting in your room earlier was only because there was no bedding.”
“Never said that.”
“Okay, you implied it.”
“No. You inferred it.”
She let out a frustrated growl, and I thought she was about to launch herself to claw his eyes out.
He would’ve had it coming.
Hell, I did, too.
Christ, I couldn’t believe I’d slipped like that. It’d never happened before. There were conversations. Rules. Consent.
I knew better than to threaten to punish someone who wasn’t mine.
And considering she’d barely looked at me during the tense dinner, it was a safe bet she would never be mine. That when I’d jumped the gun, I’d shot myself in the foot in the process.
If she were anyone else, I would walk away. Move on. Find someone who was into what I offered.
But she was Callie.
Which meant I was staying to make things right.
Or trying to, at least.
Even if that meant reining in who I was. I had no clue if it was possible. But for her, I would try.
Pathetic, but so was hiding out in the guest room, so I wasn’t exactly batting a thousand at that moment anyway.
“Fine!” she snapped after more back-and-forth with Marco. “If you want to give up your big bed, that’s on you. Thank you. And the dinner was delicious. Good night.”
That was the most angrily polite response I’ve heard in my life.
Her contradictory words were capped off by the door slamming in Marco’s face.
He filled my doorway and leaned against the jamb. “I don’t know if I just got thanked or chewed out.”
“Little from column A, shit-ton from column B.”
He chuckled. When it faded, he looked like he was about to speak.
I cut him off by lifting a finger. Rolling with that rather than talking, I switched it to the middle one.
“Fair enough,” he murmured, taking that as the answer to his unasked question. “Hockey’s on.”
I shook my head and tapped the laptop in front of me. “Ash sent over the notes from the Moonlight meeting.”
“Enjoy your wild night, then.”
“You cool if I bring my setup here? There’s only so much I can do with one screen without it taking three times as long.”
He gave the room a pointed scan.
It wasn’t a small space, but it wasn’t large enough to hold what I needed.
“Take over the sunroom for now,” he said. “Just make sure you close the blinds during the day so your stuff doesn’t get fucked.”
I didn’t know if the for now was intentional or which way to take it.
I also didn’t ask.
He started to close the door, and I opened my mouth to tell him not to. But Marco knew. He left it ajar without me having to say a word.
If I fucked everything up, at least I know Callie’s in good hands.
With a frustrated exhale, I dragged my palm down my face before getting back to work.
Unlike every other business, Maximo didn’t start decorating for Christmas in the middle of the damn summer. He wouldn’t even do it until after Thanksgiving. Once he did, though, he went all out. All the light arrangements were synchronized to music. The decorator handled that part, but I needed to make sure there was a strong enough connection throughout the building. And that they were secure enough so smart-asses couldn’t access the controls to arrange the lights as giant flashing dicks.
It’d happened at other resorts that had no network passwords—or common sense.
With Thanksgiving under a week away, most of what I had to do was already in place. I was finishing my last few plans when a notification pinged on my phone.
She went to bed over an hour ago. Why’s she on her phone?
If I was a good man… well, I wouldn’t have put the tracking system on her devices in the first place. But if I was a better man, I would’ve exited without violating her boundaries for the second time that day.
I didn’t.
I waited to see what she did.
She bounced around her usual few apps before everything stopped.
She must’ve finally fallen asleep.
I finished the last thing I needed, closed the laptop, and leaned back. I thought about going down to catch the end of the game. I also thought harder about checking on Callie, but I didn’t want to wake her. Showering was out for the same reason since we shared a wall, and I had no clue if the noise would travel.
I settled on calling it an early night—for me—and stripped out of my suit before pulling on a pair of pajama pants from the clothes Marco had made me stash there after I’d passed out naked. I only had a few things since I rarely stayed for longer than a night.
I’ll need to get more.
Going into the en suite, I got ready for bed and grabbed my phone off the desk before flopping onto the mattress. I unlocked it to see another notification that Callie was on her phone.
Nope.
Not Callie.
When Marco had asked at Ash’s wedding if I had tracking shit on his electronics, my denial had been the truth. If Freddy had gotten the chance to ask the same, any denial would’ve been a lie.
I didn’t use the access I’d impulsively given myself. I never had. But I still had it.
When I saw the website that was loaded, my dick hardened. I ignored it and dragged down the window to see what the hell had happened. How the notifications of Freddy’s activities had gotten turned on.
If one of these came through while he was with me, he’d never…
But it wasn’t his.
It was Callie’s.
My dick didn’t just jerk. It throbbed, and I thought I’d blow my load without even touching it.
Again, if I was a decent man, I would’ve turned my phone off.
I didn’t.
I grabbed my laptop from the desk and positioned it on the mattress next to me.
She switched from one porn to another. Then another. Then another.
Like a virtual stalker, I followed along.
She didn’t stay on any of them long, but every single one she clicked on had the same theme.
One woman.
And three men.
Freddy
“You think he’s good?” Marco asked as he lifted his beer to his mouth.
It was a valid question.
Cole didn’t like staying at Marco’s to begin with.
He liked quiet, but not too quiet.
Loud, but not too loud.
People, but not too many.
The domestic neighborhood surrounded by busy nightlife didn’t fit any of his criteria.
His slip-up with Callie earlier—and the awkward silence that’d stretched between them through dinner—hadn’t helped.
“No idea,” I answered honestly. “You good after Callie yelled at you?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll survive.” One side of his mouth curved up, and he shifted in his spot at the other side of the sectional. My guess was he either had a hard-on or was fighting one.
I’d never thought about his dick before. Even right then, it wasn’t with sexual interest. More an acknowledgment of a scientific fact. Unlike with Cole, there were no blurred lines between us. None between the two of them, either. That I knew of, at least.
But everything seemed different all of a sudden.
We’d gone from agreeing to go after the same woman to forming an intertangled…
Whatever the fuck it was.
I didn’t know how it would work.
I didn’t know if it could work.
Staring at the TV as they went over the end-of-game stats, I thought about asking him. I decided against it.
If shit was about to fall faster than an overbaked soufflé, it could do it another time.
I grabbed my empty bottle and stood. “I’m headed up.”
He switched to SportsCenter . “You making her lobster thermidor and duchess potatoes soon?”
I grinned. “Thermidor will have a side of spinach. Duchess potatoes go with the steak I owe her. Plus, a decent rice pudding. It doesn’t sit right with my conscience that I had to give her the plastic cup garbage.”
He pulled his focus from the TV to hold my gaze. “Then I’m glad we do dinners together.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he meant that as more than just a friends-with-culinary-benefits way.
Dropping my bottle into the recycling, I went upstairs. The light under Callie’s door was off, but the one under Cole’s was on.
I neared it and was about to knock.
And say what?
Piss him off by asking if he’s okay?
I can’t even reassure him that it’ll work out with Callie because I don’t know. His Daddy thing isn’t for everyone. I don’t judge, but some people do.
Especially when they don’t understand it.
I walked to the room next to his and flicked on the light, but I only took a few steps in.
Fuck it.
If he’s having a hard time, I’m not gonna let him do it alone.
Backtracking, I opened his door without knocking.
I wasn’t sure what the hell I was thinking other than I was worried.
I should’ve knocked.
Well, I was right.
He is having a hard time.
And doing it alone.
Leaning against the headboard, he had his computer open next to him—but I couldn’t see the screen. Or hell, maybe I could’ve if I looked. I was too focused on where he held his pants out of the way while his other fist worked up and down the thick length of his cock.
Putain .
Fuuuuuck.
When I realized I was staring, my gaze shot up to meet his. An apology formed in my dry mouth, but I couldn’t force the words out.
Not because I didn’t mean them—though that was true.
But because he didn’t stop.
Holding our eye contact, he moved faster. The veins and muscles in his arm flexed as he squeezed harder.
Even when his muscles clenched.
When his quiet grunts turned to choked groans.
When his fist was practically a desperate blur.
And when his cum shot out to land on his abs, chest, and a bit on his cheek.
He forced his lids open and kept his eyes locked with mine through it all.
Panting heavily, he hung his head back, breaking the contact to catch his breath. It still came out winded when he started, “I?—”
I didn’t give him the chance to say more. Whatever excuses or blame or bullshit he was about to spew, I didn’t want to hear it.
Just as suddenly as I’d entered, I left, closing the door behind me.
“Freddy, wait,” he called, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Callie.
I didn’t listen.
I returned to my room, closed and locked the door, and continued into the bathroom. Not taking any chances, I locked that one, too.
Turning the shower on full blast, I didn’t wait for it to heat. I barely waited until I was naked. The moment my dick was free, I wrapped my hand around it and stroked.
The cold water pelting me didn’t do anything to slow my pathetically fast-building orgasm. The fact I hadn’t come in my pants was a miracle. I wasn’t holding out hope for impressive stamina.
Fast and hard, I worked myself. My thoughts bounced between what I’d just watched. That Callie was in the room next to us while I’d watched. I imagined her being between us. Me between them.
I pictured making her come on my dick while she watched Cole’s shoot across his abs, chest, and cheek.
Giving the barbell piercing under the head a tug, I exploded like it’d been years since I came and not a day. My vision tunneled, and my palm slapped the wall to stay upright, but I kept stroking with the other until nothing was left.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted the real thing.
Needed it.
Putain , this is going to be bad.
After cleaning up and drying off, I fished my cell from my pants pooled on the floor.
Multiple texts waited. I almost ignored them until I saw they weren’t just to me. The first handful were in the group messages with Cole and Marco.
Cole: C was watching these.
Multiple links were sent next.
I clicked through each of them. My balls were empty, but my dick still twitched when I saw the group activities our girl had watched. It did it again when I read the message sent only to me.
Cole: I hope what you just did was as good as what you helped me do.
I may not know how this will work with the four of us.
But I think we’re about to find out.