Chapter 26 Vince
Vince
The rehearsal dinner unwinds under a wash of amber fairy lights strung across the cliffside terrace as the sun slips away, leaving the ocean scented with salt and jasmine.
The briny air clings to everything, the garlands, the woven chair backs, our skin.
People move more slowly than usual, weighed down by nerves and sentiment, the atmosphere dense with anticipation.
Becca kisses Trevor goodnight in front of all of us.
It’s not bashful or shy; it’s warm and lingering, like the gentle close of a chapter they’re savoring rather than rushing through.
She whispers something in his ear, smacks his ass with a laugh, and walks barefoot through the sand in her linen dress, and no one blinks.
Trevor shifts, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s bracing for the ribbing. “Becca’s family has this tradition,” he says, grinning. “Bride and groom don’t get to spend the night together before the wedding, like a superstitious thing. The ceremony’s meant to feel like a reunion or something.”
“So, she’s got some plans without you?” George asks, already cracking another beer.
“She booked a late-night massage at the hotel spa,” Trevor says, smirking. “Some candlelit pamper package with champagne and a suspiciously attractive-sounding masseuse.”
Lance snorts, “Male or female?”
Trevor shrugs. “I didn’t ask. I’m not sure she wants me to know.”
“Power move,” George says.
“She deserves it,” Trevor replies. “And she knows I’m not exactly planning to spend the night playing chess with you assholes.”
Adrian arches a brow. “And you? What’s your send-off plan? Pity poker night with the boys?”
Trevor smirks. “She told me to go wild, that it’s my last night as a free man. She even winked.”
“A playful wink or a threatening one?” Adrian asks with a grin.
Trevor chuckles. “Definitely playful, the kind that says she’ll be doing exactly what she wants too.”
“Jesus,” George mutters. “She’s probably going to tie up the masseuse.”
“She could,” Trevor says proudly. “That woman is terrifying in the best way.”
“You two are like the sex-positive Addams family,” Lance laughs.
Trevor raises his bottle. “Here’s to marrying a woman who wants you to get wrecked before she does.”
I’m still beside Adrian when I finally speak up with a smirk. “I guess we all have our kinks.”
Lance points at him. “Yeah, and apparently yours is watching us touch your boyfriend.”
Adrian blushes at the word boyfriend. We haven’t talked about what we are, but I know what I feel about him as clear as day. I lift a brow and say nothing else. The room cracks up.
Trevor groans. “God, this group is so far past normal, and I love it here.”
I stand near the edge of the patio, the ocean humming beneath us, the last streaks of dusk clinging to the sky like breath on glass. He’s right beside me, shoulder to shoulder, not hiding behind me or pretending we’re separate. It means something.
The space he takes next to me isn’t borrowed. It’s his, and I don’t stop him from claiming it.
We’re not subtle, and we’re not pretending to be. Our arms brush every time we move. When he hands me a drink, his fingers linger a second too long. When I thank him, my hand ghosts along his wrist, barely there but enough.
There has always been tension, the kind you don’t name but everyone feels simmering beneath every glance and breath. Tonight, I let it show. I let it settle between us like smoke rising from something already burning.
The guys notice. Lance keeps sneaking glances and biting his lip like he’s holding back a grin wide enough to split his face.
George watches Adrian the way someone watches a door they didn’t know was open, like something that felt impossible has finally clicked.
Trevor says nothing. He crosses his arms, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his mouth, like he’s been waiting for me to finally choose my own happiness, and now that I have, he couldn’t be prouder.
No one asks, and we don’t explain. Still, I feel the heat, the pressure, the quiet pulsing awareness of what this means. It’s not just that Adrian is beside me now. It’s that I’m not stepping away. Not anymore.
Later, when the night winds down and we drift back to the suite Lance has claimed as groom HQ, the mood shifts.
It becomes softer. The spacious room looks out on the beach from two balconies and is scattered with leftover florals, tux bags, and half-empty tequila bottles.
The lights are dim and the music low. It’s that last-day-before energy, charged and slow.
I drop onto the couch and signal for Adrian to come. Color rises in his face. He probably thinks things are moving too fast, but I’m done waiting. I’ve done my part for ten years. No one is making us wait again.
He settles on the rug between my knees like he’s done it a hundred times before. His back presses into my leg with the easy familiarity of habit and claim.
Lance pops another beer and smiles lazily. “So, we’re just skipping over the part where our friend over here is officially in a relationship now?”
Trevor snorts. “Mate, that’s not news. Now we know they’ve had this thing going since high school.”
George sips his drink and gives me a look that clearly says, took you long enough.
Lance leans forward, suddenly curious. “So, all this time…you two were just waiting?”
Adrian’s voice is steady but softer underneath. “It feels like we were. It’s like everything life threw at us, we just kept moving through it…until it finally brought us back here.”
They don’t press; they don’t need to. The ghost of the missing years hangs in the air between us.
Trevor leans forward, bottle in hand, his voice quieter than before. “I just need to ask one thing. Mate, were you really okay with all of us…”
I don’t let him finish.
My fingers slide into Adrian’s hair, tilting his head back slowly. He kneels between my knees where he belongs. His lips are parted, his chest rising like he already knows what I’m about to say. His pupils are blown wide and dark.
“He’s mine,” I say, my voice quiet and razor-sharp. “Every fucking part of him.” I meet his eyes, asking if he’s alright with this. Adrian doesn’t back down.
His breath catches, but the smile that ghosts across his lips is wicked. “I want this,” he says, voice low and husky. “All of it.”
I stroke my thumb along his jaw, steady. “You’re sure?”
His gaze locks on mine. “I trust you.”
That’s all I need.
“Here’s the thing,” I say a little louder, dragging my fingers on his neck, feeling the fine tremble in his throat. “It turns out watching my man fall apart with you guys is my fucking kink.”
The boys stare at me like I’ve just turned their world sideways. Silence hangs heavy, their faces caught between disbelief and awe.
My voice drops, rougher now. “That first night at the bachelor party…just watching him was enough to undo me. Every hand on him, every sound he made, every shiver…I couldn’t move.
I could only watch. By the end, I gave in, as I couldn’t keep my hands off him, off his ass.
But I still left aching, his voice echoing in me long after. ”
My hand skims down Adrian’s chest, possessive and reverent. With his back against me, he arches into my touch like a man on a live wire, like I am the current.
“But he looked at me the whole time,” I say. “It rewired something in me. The way he gave himself, the way he wanted to be watched. I couldn’t stop imagining him getting fucked by me and my friends, his mouth filthy, still begging for me. For more.”
Trevor makes a strained sound, and Lance adjusts himself without bothering to be subtle.
“I realized then,” I continue, “that if he wants it, I don’t have to be the only one touching him. Not if I own him, not if I’m the one who puts him back together after he’s been pushed too far.”
Adrian exhales, head tipping back against my thigh like he can’t hold himself up anymore. He looks at them, dazed and hungry, undone. “If you want to touch me, you can,” he says, voice gravelly but unwavering. “But he’s the one I answer to.”
Trevor looks like his head might explode. Lance swears softly, almost reverent. George doesn’t move, waiting for explicit permission.
I meet Adrian’s eyes, then look at my friends. “You heard him. His body’s mine, but he’s letting you in. You respect that, or it ends.”
There’s a ripple of nods, serious and tight, an acknowledgment of terms. No one speaks as the meaning lands. This is not just sex. They are not just guests. They are part of a show built on possession, trust, and heat. My control and Adrian’s surrender.
And none of them look away. Because the invitation might come with rules, but the reward is undeniable. It is getting to touch something sacred, and ruin it just enough in the name of pleasure.
Adrian licks his lips slowly. “If he wants to watch while you do me, if he wants to see me beg and cry and fall apart in front of all of you to make him harder, I will do it. I’ll make it filthy. I’ll make it unforgettable.”
I press my palm to the bulge in his jeans, feeling heat pulse beneath my hand. Adrian moans, breath hitching, his thighs tightening.
“You feel that?” I ask the room without tearing my eyes from him. “I’m sure he’s already leaking, aching, and I haven’t even taken his pants off yet.”
I feel like the boys are ready to pounce anytime now.
“Let me be clear about one thing.”
Everyone falls still.
“I’ll be the first one in him tonight.” I hook my fingers on Adrian’s waistband. “And I’ll be the last. You can fuck him, use him, however you like. But when it’s over? He finishes with me.”