9. 8
I step out of Chester’s home office after finding it empty. Remy’s car is in the driveway, but I can’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in the living room, the kitchen or at the pool. Chester’s office was my next guess, but it was just as deserted as the rest of the house.
I run up the stairs and make my way to Chester’s room, opening the door without knocking. When I’m about to say Remy’s name, the sound gets stuck in my throat.
On the bed are two out of three of my lovers, very naked and very compromised. Remy is on his back, one of his knees pulled against his chest, while Chester is working him over, his fingers disappearing inside Remy’s body.
Four eyes dart to the door, where I’ve come to a complete standstill. My pulse is racing, and my lip hurts from where I’m biting down on it. It’s one thing to know that they enjoy each other’s intimacy. It’s another to see it happening.
“Sorry,” I say, while I start to turn around. I’m not really sorry though. I guess it’s the polite thing to say. Is there proper etiquette for a situation like this? If so, I highly doubt it’s the kind of etiquette Chester was taught when he was younger.
“Abs,” Chester says, pulling my attention back to him and stopping my gracious exit.
“Hm?” I say, my curious eyes wandering back to the two gorgeous men on that bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Giving you two some time together.” At least, that’s what I think I’m doing.
“Do you want to stay?” Chester asks me, more straight to the point than I’d expect him to be. My experience with him when it comes to sex is that he’s a little hesitant, keeping back and seeing which way the wind blows. But he’s had regular hookups, and I’ve never seen him in his element. What if this is who he is when it comes to sex?
I’m so fucking curious.
“Stay, go, I don’t care, just keep going, or I swear to God I’ll destroy your laptop and your headphones,” Remy whines.
“Making demands?”
“I’ll throw your Kurt Funko out of the window.”
“I think he means business,” I say, grabbing the laundry pile on the chair in the corner of Chester’s room and I sit myself down.
Chester starts moving his hand again, and I focus on the way Remy closes his eyes and throws his head back while grunting a heartfelt ‘fuck’. When my attention shifts to Chester, he looks very smug. Bastard is enjoying himself.
And that’s a freaking turn on if I’ve ever seen one.
I let myself fully fall back in the chair, pulling my legs in and hugging my knees to my chest. I’ve let go of the lip I was biting, replaced it with my fingers, and I am unconsciously biting one of my knuckles.
Gay porn has never been high on my list of preferences, but I’m starting to wonder if that has been a mistake. Because I can’t take my eyes off what’s unfolding in front of me.
Remy pulls Chester’s head down for a kiss, and while I’ve seen them do that before, this is one hell of a kiss. They bite, and nip, and go at it like fucking wildlings.
“Not so bossy now, aren’t you?” Chester taunts.
“Shut the fuck up,” Remy grunts.
Chester keeps moving his fingers slowly but steadily, almost taking them out, but never leaving Remy’s body fully. He’s kind of blocking my view every now and then, and it annoys me, but I feel too much of an intruder at the moment to speak up.
Saliva is building up in my mouth though.
The glorious cheeks of Chester’s ass flex when he moves his hand forward, using his body to put some force into it, and I use the opportunity to admire the way his hips flex forward. The back-covering black and white tattoo gives him an edgy vibe, and seeing him from this point of view makes me hot. Usually, I get to look at his face or his ridiculous body. His back? Not so much. I can see the muscles in his shoulders roll with his movements, and he really is a work of art.
Remy takes a hand out of Chester’s loose hair and puts it between their bodies, making Chester moan and break their kiss.
He momentarily sits back on his haunches; eyes solely focused on the handsome dancer beneath him.
“More?”
“Yes.”
I silently watch the exchange, feeling my panties soak through. Anticipation settles in my belly as if my body can’t wait for what’s about to go down. The only movement I make is gently rubbing my thighs together.
Chester grabs the bottle of lube that already lies on the bed”s covers, using generous amounts to cover himself and Remy. I expect them to stay in their position. Remy is on his back, knee pressed up, but they seem to have a different plan. Remy hooks his leg around Chester’s knee, using some kind of wrestling move to make them shift positions. Chester lies on his back while Remy straddles him, climbing over his body and leaving a trail of kisses over him.
The barbell in Chester’s nipple glistens in the lightning before it disappears in Remy’s mouth, leaving Chester with a slack jaw and a blissed out look.
They’re on the bed in such a way that I can mostly see Remy’s back, and even if that gives me the best seat in the house, I kind of want to see more than just his back and ass. I want to stare at their faces while they worship each other.
Not wanting to risk getting them out of the moment, I just grab the chair and reposition it in the room to get the view I want. From this point, I can see everything I want – the way Chester grabs his cock, positioning him against Remy’s hole, while Remy ever so slowly lets himself glide down.
Chester holds Remy’s chin with his free hand, and they are so lost in each other that I don’t think they would’ve noticed if anyone else was to enter the room right now. Remy is biting his bottom lip, his look fierce yet full of lust, love and life. Chester seems to be stuck somewhere between awe and bliss, lying perfectly still and waiting for Remy to sit down.
Which he takes his time doing.
My eyes keep flitting between their faces, and the way Chester stretches Remy makes my insides clench. It’s oddly arousing yet relaxing at the same time. I would’ve expected I’d at some point feel the need to participate, but it turns out I’m just as satisfied sitting here and watching them enjoy each other.
By the time Remy has sunk all the way down, Chester has removed his hand from his cock, grabbing Remy at his hip and using his other hand to finally pull him down in a sensuous kiss. Their breathing speeds up until finally Remy starts moving slowly. He lifted himself up on his knees and slowly sinking back down again.
It’s almost hypnotizing to see how they find a rhythm.
The part I love the most? Chester keeps opening his eyes every now and again, checking if Remy is okay, watching him as if he’s his whole world.
Remy’s cock stands erect, stuck between their stomachs, glistening with his arousal. It looks edible, and I swallow hard when my mouth waters as I stare at it.
They pick up the pace until Chester thrusts fast and meets Remy’s every move. The former shifts his legs so that the soles of his feet are up on the bed and his knees are bent, changing the angle at which he hits Remy - whose mouth falls open with a groan.
Their sweating foreheads are pressed against each other, both too out of breath to kiss but nipping all over instead.
The change in position seems to really do it for Remy, who gets more frantic in his movements. Because Chester now has his feet up on the bed, he can thrust harder, filling the room with the sound of slapping bodies.
I feel like I’m privy to one of the most intimate moments I could ever be a part of, and I feel so full that these two men whom I love so dearly also have enough love to offer one another.
The love soon turns into lust though, when both men grunt and hands wander all over. Remy’s grunts and groans get longer, his breathing spiking and his muscles contracting.
“So close,” he says, confusing me a little because nobody is actually touching his cock. Better yet, since they shifted positions, his dick isn’t even stuck between their bellies anymore.
“Can you?” Chester asks.
“Think so.”
“Then come for me, love,” he grunts, picking up the pace a little more and slamming into him harder than before. He opens his eyes more often, probably checking if he isn’t hurting Remy. Or maybe he just wants to see the look on Remy’s face when he comes. I know I certainly can’t look away right now.
“There,” Remy moans, barely audible before he holds his breath and goes limp, and spurts of watery see-through cum shoot from his dick. Without being touched, hands off. Chester’s chest is painted with it, and I suddenly see the appeal of marking your significant other with your release. I’m in fucking awe. Remy shakes through the orgasm, taking his sweet time coming back to Earth.
My jaw is slack. What the hell did I just see? Guys can do that? Fuck. I never knew.
They start kissing again once Remy is able to, giving Chester free reign over his body. He sets a pace he seems to enjoy, while Remy twists the barbell in Chester’s nipple, adding to the intensity of what it is they’re doing.
The corner of my mouth turns up when I recognize the way Chester starts breathing, indicating he’s close and about to come. Some things seem to be the same whether he’s with a man or a woman. I’m not sure how long it takes, but it’s like watching a masterpiece of emotions on Chester’s face when he gets closer and closer until he finally snaps and climaxes.
The sounds he makes are sinful.
I’m such a fucking lucky woman to be with both of them.
Both men take their time to get their breathing under control, slowly opening their eyes and caressing each other’s bodies. For the first time since entering the room, I feel like an intruder, so I get off the chair and go to the ensuite to wet a cloth for them to use to clean up.
When I get back into the room, they’ve crawled out of their position, lying on their backs, fingers intertwined, looking blissed the fuck out.
Walking over, I get on the bed on my knees, bending over and carefully cleaning both of them up. They give me lazy, kind smiles, which I reciprocate, and when they’re all cleaned up, I wiggle between them.
Remy turns to his side and nuzzles my neck, laying his arm over me and closing his eyes.
“Before you fall asleep,” I say, “I’ve got questions.”
Remy keeps his eyes closed, but the corner of his mouth turns up. Chester props himself up on his elbow, watching me closely.
“Yes?”
“Nobody touched you,” I say, facing Remy.
“That’s a statement, not a question,” Chester states.
“Hm,” Remy answers.
“So how does that work?”
“Sometimes men can come from stimulating the prostate only,” Chester explains.
“But not always?”
“No, and not everyone.”
Well, guess you learn something new every day. I let that settle in, but besides being very curious, I’m just very okay with it. “Cool,” I summarize.
“That’s all you have to say about it?” Remy questions.
“Yeah.”
“I thought you’d tap in at some point,” Chester confesses.
“I’ll be tapping into the memory of what I just saw every chance I get, but no, this was you guys, and that might have been even better than tapping in.”
I’m not sure how to explain it. Not needing to be a part of their love-making only makes the love I experience for them even bigger. There’s no jealous monster, not even one hiding beneath layers of arousal - because fuck am I soaked right now.
“Does that happen often when you’re together?”
Remy shakes his head.
“Shame,” I mumble. “I really want to see that again.”
“Well, personally speaking, I’d say you’re welcome anytime because I’m pretty sure that’s what made me tumble over the edge.”
I can’t help but gloat. I’ll start arranging the funeral for my feminist side later because I’m pretty sure they’ll revoke my membership for feeling this good about pleasing men.
Closing my eyes and relaxing on the bed, I couldn’t care less about it. I’m right where I need to be.
The light inside the refrigerator lights up the dark kitchen when I come down for a midnight snack a couple of hours later. Nothing in the fridge that grabs my attention except for the roll of cookie dough, so I take that. Something kept me up, while Remy and Chester had drifted off to sleep. I didn’t want to wake them up with my tossing and turning, so I decided to get something to eat and drink a glass of water. I’m not bothering to bake the cookie dough. It’s just as good raw, even better maybe.
When I’m filling a glass of water, the sound of footsteps coming nearer reaches me. I can see Remy coming into the kitchen in the dim light that comes through the kitchen window, giving everything a slight blue tint. He’s wearing nothing but boxer briefs, his hair standing at odd angles. I can see the white of his teeth despite the darkness.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
“Didn’t want to wake you guys up with my tossing and turning,” I say. “Seems like I did a poor job.”
“Wasn’t your tossing and turning. Bed felt too empty without you in it.”
I scoff.
“You felt I was gone even in your sleep?”
“I know when you’re near me, always. And when you’re not, something feels off.”
A dorky smile appears on my face, which I’m glad he can’t see. I use it as an excuse to stuff cookie dough in my mouth. Remy walks further into the kitchen, fills a glass with water and leans his ass against the kitchen counter while watching me devour some more sugar. We stare, me eating, him taking sips of his water.
“Do you know I’ve never loved before?”
The statement comes so out of the blue that I don’t know how to respond. I raise my eyebrow, but before I can form words, he continues.
“I didn’t know either. I thought I did. And to some extent, I might’ve. I mean, I love dancing. It’s so deep I can feel it in the core of my being. It’s part of me, ingrained in everything I am. But loving another person?”
He shakes his head.
“I thought I did. In the short moments I’ve spent with people I convinced myself that what I felt for them was love. And it was something - friendship, a general liking, warmth, comfort, attraction. Some understanding. But it wasn’t love. I only really felt what love was when Beckett arrested me and I felt my heart break.”
Guilt covers my face.
“I don’t mean that in a bad way, ma luciole. I fell in love with you before it happened, and when it fell away and I realized the extent of what I felt, I really learned what love is. It was also what I needed to be able to forgive you and get to this point. It wasn’t until now that I truly knew love.”
He steps towards me, picks the bite out of my fingers and stuffs it in his own mouth. His words warm me, because I understand what he means. I never even believed I loved before. I always knew I didn’t. Not like this, anyway.
“I feel it too,” I softly say when he brings his lips to my mouth, so close I can feel him breathing while he doesn’t kiss me. It’s the suspense that makes it all the more exciting.
“Explain to me again why you gave up dancing professionally if it’s the only thing you’ve ever loved?”
He takes a step back and studies me from the shadows his face is covered in.
“Because sometimes if you love something, you’ve got to let it go,” he settles on.
“If that were true, you wouldn’t have forgiven me and would’ve let me go as well.”
He seems to think about that, while I do my best to keep an eye on him. Something stuck with me after our latest round of treasure. Remy needs dancing more than he’s letting on at the moment. Beckett was brave enough to call him out on it.
I claim to love him – I really do. So maybe I need to grow a pair and encourage him to not give up that part of himself. I get his reasoning that he had reached a peak back in New York and would never be satisfied with slowly losing the limelight. But he isn’t truly happy without it either.
“I won’t be able to keep on dancing at this level forever, Abby. But I will be able to love you just that little bit more every day until I’m old, and gray, and I will probably need some new hips and knees because I fucked them up by using them this intensely when I was young. There”s no comparison.”
I open my mouth to answer that, but he lays a single finger over my lips, effectively shutting me up. He places my cookie dough on the counter before he grabs my phone from the counter and selects a song.
“Just dance with me,” he demands while he pulls me closer and the first notes of ‘Drops of Jupiter’ by Train reach my ears.
I let him twirl me around before he wraps himself around me and starts taking me through a series of slow steps, going round and round until the whole world is spinning except for him. His face is lit up by the moonlight that enters through the window while his eyes gently seduce me. I get lost in them until the whole world around me is drowned out, and all that’s left is him.
“Are we seriously dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night?” I ask him, my voice husky with emotion I didn’t expect.
“If this isn’t love, I don’t know what it is.”
He lays his cheek on the side of my head, and for an undetermined period, we make love in the dark by slow dancing in each other’s arms.
The minute we make it back to the bedroom, I fall asleep like a baby, having the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.
“Sally is a fucking bitch,” Scott says, lying on his back with an arm across his eyes in the damp grass while he tries to catch his breath after finishing the workout from hell. Alex made us do Sallies in every possible variety there is out there. My legs are shaking and burning right now, and I’m not even using them. I think my arms are still attached to my body, but I’m not sure about it.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Dylan mumbles, sitting on his ass, shoulders slumped and his head between his knees as if he’s about to faint. I have no idea how he’s still sitting upright. I’m starfishing the grass and that’s all I can manage.
“What?” Scott says.
“It’s not Sally’s fault. It’s the workout in itself,” he explains.
“Sally, Alex, I don’t know whose fault it is, but I am dead,” Scott whines.
“Pussies,” Alex yells, but he’s down too. You can say what you want about the man, but he always takes as good as he gives.
“He’s not wrong,” I say. “I think this is what death feels like.” I can’t get my breathing under control, and instead of relaxing, my muscles start to shake harder the longer I’m down. “After we’ve caught Wayne, I’m asking Beckett to start hunting for The Workout Killer, because people are dropping like flies in Portland all of a sudden.”
Scott chuckles, but even his laugh sounds tired.
“The Workout Killer?” Alex says. “I think you mean The Workout Slayer.”
“Okay, Buffy, pipe down,” Dylan says before he groans and finally lets himself fall back on the ground. “If we have to head out tonight, we might have a problem because I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk after this.”
“You’ll live,” Alex answers. “Otherwise, you’d spend the whole evening alone with your dogs. Not like you’ve got anything else to do.”
“I actually have plans tonight,” Dylan argues. “And I was looking forward to using my limbs tonight, but I guess that’s no longer happening.”
“You have a date?” I ask.
“Third date actually.”
“Hence, they are looking forward to using the limbs,” Scott says.
“Third date?” Alex asks. “And you’re only telling us now?”
Dylan scoffs. “I go on dates all the time. I just don’t bother telling you about it until I know it’s something worth talking about.”
“So she’s worth it?”
“Might be.”
“Oh, don’t skimp on the details,” I tell him, letting my head fall to the side towards him while I observe him with one opened and one squinted eye. Even my eyelids are shaking from fatigue.
“What’s there to know?”
“She hot?” Scott immediately asks.
“Horndog,” Alex reprimands. “What’s her name?”
“Molly. And she’s smoking. And has the biggest B.”
“Boobs?” I ask.
“Brain,” he answers with a smile, obviously happy that he made me fall for his trick. “She works at the local forensics lab and is smarter than most of us combined. Kind of like Zoey and Chester. I’d really love not to cancel our date tonight. She’s married to her job and if she’s not working, she’s at home with her two teenage daughters.”
“Cougar-alert,” Scott says, but it’s obvious he doesn’t really mean it because he lacks any spark in his words.
“Good for you,” I say, meaning every word.
“Well, maybe Alex can explain to her who Sally is and why I can’t seduce Molly tonight.”
“Are you even sure it’s going to happen?” Alex asks. “Older women might have a little more reserves and hold out. Not everyone expects sex on the third date.”
“I feel offended,” I say with a weak voice.
“She made arrangements for the kids to stay somewhere overnight.”
“Oh yeah, that’s happening,” Scott says, smiling broadly.
“I’m sure there’s ways around this,” I offer while trying to think of solutions. “Maybe make her sit on your face for foreplay. We haven’t done any Sallies using our tongue, even if I believe Alex would’ve made us do that if it was physically possible.”
“I’m not discussing this with you guys,” he objects with horror on his face.
“Take a hot shower, pop some Tylenol and just do it, man,” Alex says. The brave man gets up from the ground, doing it with a fucking show-off-ish push-up, and smirks when he looks down on Dylan. “At least you’ll look all pumped up tonight.”
He huffs. “I always look pumped.” Then his face falls. “I just need there to be no serial killer business or rescue mission tonight. I know that sounds bad, but I need to get laid.”
“We’ll light the Bat signal or something. Let Wayne know his monkey business isn’t wanted tonight,” I joke. I know Dylan would be there in a heartbeat if anything actually went down tonight. “But first, we need to be able to get up.”
“Yeah, that isn’t gonna work,” Scott says.
And I second that.
“Ugh, I’m never going to be getting up. Cockblocked by Sally,” Dylan says.
“Told you she was a bitch,” Scott says.
“You’re all a bunch of babies,” Alex claims before extending his hand and helping us up one at a time. Every muscle in my body aches, but it’s an aching I welcome.
It’s better than feeling hopeless and lost.