Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Asher Montgomery
I never expected to walk in on Beckett on his knees with Theo’s cock in his mouth. It wasn’t like I had told them what time I’d be home, so I wasn’t sure what I’d walk into, but it wasn’t… that.
Somehow, they had managed to make a budgeting lesson sound sexual. Either personal finance had gotten a lot more exciting than I remembered, or they’d gotten a little too worked up while uploading their latest video.
Either way, I couldn’t exactly bring myself to complain about the sight in front of me.
Relief flooded through me when I spotted Theo’s phone aimed at Beckett. This wasn’t some private moment I’d interrupted—just another video for FanFeed.
The knot in my stomach loosened. I managed a casual smile, but something sharp twisted beneath my ribs.
The three of us had always been a unit—filming together, planning together, succeeding together.
For one horrible moment, I’d glimpsed an alternate reality where they’d finally recognized what was between them, leaving me on the outside looking in.
They wouldn’t miss me. They wouldn’t want me back.
Not that I harbored feelings for Beckett. That’s the line I rehearsed daily. Wanting him wasn’t an option. Clear boundaries protected our friendship, our business, our future videos—everything that actually mattered. Things had to stay this way. It was the only way we were all safe.
I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the back of our gray couch as I approached them.
My eyes never left Beckett as he rose from his knees in one fluid motion, his dark jeans and black top revealing nothing of what had just transpired except for the slight flush creeping up his neck and the way he nervously ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
Or maybe he was trying to keep Theo’s flavor on his tongue.
“You’re saying you want to suck my cock, Beckett?” I asked.
I wanted to hear him say it, but I also wanted to make sure I wasn’t mistaking what he was asking for.
It didn’t sound like him to choose me over Theo, but he implied he wanted me.
And I’d love nothing more than to suck off Theo while Beckett, the man I hated—admittedly less now—pleasured me. The idea itself was satisfying.
The idea of getting a blow job from someone you shared a mutual hatred with was powerful. Electric. Nothing compared. One day, I’d get to fuck Beckett, and I’d get to take out years of feelings on his ass. I looked forward to the day, but this was a start.
Beckett stepped toward me, his fingers undoing my belt and the button on my pants, his message clear. Still, I waited for the words as I held my breath, watching as he tugged down my pants and my boxers with a smile.
“Yes. Sit on the couch, and I’ll suck your cock, while Theo stands at the edge so you can reach him,” he explained.
Directing was my job, but fuck, he had thought it out.
I was wondering about the logistics when it was brought up, figuring we’d have to move to the bed.
It made it better knowing we were staying on the couch.
Felt more urgent, like we needed each other so badly we couldn’t bother with moving to another room.
Theo stood up and set the phone down on the table, angled where it’d get all of us in the frame. Beckett made his intentions clear by slowly lifting my shirt, and I helped him remove it, feeling suddenly exposed while he had all of his clothes on.
Theo moved behind Beckett, his chest pressing against Beckett’s shoulder blades as he reached around him.
His fingers worked deftly at the button of Beckett’s jeans, the zipper’s metallic hiss cutting through the heavy silence.
Theo hooked his thumbs into the waistband, dragging the denim down Beckett’s thighs, revealing inch after inch of muscular thighs and pale skin.
With the same practiced efficiency, he tugged his shirt upward, his knuckles grazing along Beckett’s ribs, until it cleared his head.
The three of us stood bare, stripped of everything but desire.
Beckett’s head fell back against Theo’s shoulder, his throat exposed and vulnerable.
His lips parted, eyes half-lidded and unfocused as I traced the ridges of his abdomen with my fingertips.
When I pinched his nipples, his back arched, a strangled sound escaping him that wasn’t quite pain.
I twisted slightly, watching his pupils dilate, feeling my own breath catch as his hips jerked forward involuntarily.
The flush spreading across his chest matched the heat building in my veins; his surrender more intoxicating than any victory could have been.
Theo’s lips traced a path along Beckett’s neck, teeth grazing the pulse point. Something twisted in my chest, hot and unfamiliar.
“Fuck it,” I announced out loud.
Before I could think, I found myself leaning in, my mouth finding Beckett’s. His lips parted under mine—soft, pliant—nothing like our first kiss together. We hadn’t kissed since.
My fingers trembled against his jaw, cradling rather than claiming. I pulled back, breath catching at the dazed look in his eyes. This wasn’t us. It should have been rough, something sharp and unkind. Not this quiet, treacherous tenderness that ambushed me.
Theo’s knuckles grazed my dick as he reached between us, his fingers wrapping around Beckett’s cock.
The three of us pressed together, a tangle of limbs and heat, everything around us fading into the background as we got lost in each other.
His breath hitched, then washed hot against my chin as his head fell back.
A sound escaped him—half surrender, half demand—vibrating through the scant space between us.
I wanted to remain that way forever, but we had a video to finish, and I wanted Beckett’s lips around my cock more than I was willing to admit. I pulled my body free, stepping away, Beckett’s gaze furiously locking on me.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I’m right here. I’m just taking my place on the couch.
I’m ready to see you on your knees, feel your pretty lips wrapped around me.
I’ve waited too long,” I admitted. Good thing he didn’t know what I truly meant.
All the times I wished I could shut him up by shoving my cock into his mouth, and now my dream was coming true.
But now, it meant something more.
Because he had willingly chosen me. He wanted to pleasure me. If I had asked him a week ago to suck my dick, he would’ve vomited and given me a silly retort. Now, he was asking for it.
Beckett’s lips curled into a pout. “If you’re going to be all high and mighty about it, I’ll just take it back,” he said, his head shaking even as a soft laugh escaped him.
Theo’s lips found the junction between Beckett’s neck and shoulder, silencing whatever protest had begun to form.
Under the pressure of that kiss, Beckett yielded, becoming soft clay in Theo’s hands as he was guided toward where I sat.
A gentle tap on his shoulder was all the instruction Beckett needed to sink to his knees before me, in the same spot he’d occupied minutes earlier when I’d first walked in on their intimate moment.
I couldn’t help but stare as his warm breath ghosted across my thigh, his mouth slowly getting closer to where I wanted it to be. The reality crystallized: this wasn’t some cruel joke designed to build me up only to leave me humiliated.
Theo positioned himself beside me, at the arm of the couch, his body angled perfectly toward my face.
From this arrangement, I could take him into my mouth while still keeping Beckett in my line of sight—a fortunate configuration for someone like me, whose talents for juggling multiple tasks had never extended to academics or employment, but had always flourished in moments like these.
With one hand, I stroked Theo to fullness; with the other, I wound my fingers through Beckett’s hair, gradually drawing him closer until his breath heated my cock, his face closer than I ever imagined it being.
Beckett took my cock into his warm, wet mouth with tentative curiosity, his lips creating a gentle suction that sent shivers up my spine.
My earlier interruption had likely cut short his first experience before he’d fully surrendered to it.
There were no tears, no glassy eyes, no messed-up voice. Yet.
I could already see the surrender building in him—that sweet edge where pleasure meets vulnerability.
Unlike Theo, I had no reservations about pushing him there.
Not that I wanted to cause him pain, but I recognized the shadow beneath his submission, the need to be taken to that precipice.
I trusted he would make it known if I crossed a line.
Theo, though—he’d grown up with Beckett, shared childhood secrets and confessions. That history probably made it harder for him to claim this kind of control over someone who’d always been his equal. Theo wasn’t the dominating type; I was.
“If it gets to be too much, just tap my leg three times, Princess,” I told him, my voice low and deliberate.
Beckett’s eyebrows furrowed at the nickname, and a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
For a moment, I was acutely aware of how vulnerable I’d made myself—his teeth mere millimeters from sensitive flesh.
But rather than retaliate with pain, he answered my challenge by hollowing his cheeks and working his tongue with deliberate skill against the sensitive underside of my cock.
Someone—Theo, no doubt—had shown him exactly how to turn the tables.