20. Holden
20
HOLDEN
I leaned back against the headboard, my chest still rising and falling from earlier, trying to stay composed as I watched them. Moon was glowing, her skin flushed and her hair wild, and the sounds she had made were enough to send a fresh wave of heat through me. Not to mention watching Hendrix, his cock heavy and slick as she had sucked on him. The sight of them together, the wet sounds of her mouth and the way his hips rolled into her, made it impossible for me to stay unaffected.
My cock twitched against my thigh, hardening, and I bit my lip as I shifted, trying to ignore it. But the pressure kept building, the dull ache sharpening as the base thickened first, the skin tightening and smoothing as I swelled, the weight of it pulling against me. My breath hitched as the ache deepened, my length hardening inch by inch until the head began to swell, the skin there stretched taut and painfully sensitive.
No one had touched me, but I was rock hard again, my cock standing rigid against my stomach. My dick throbbed, wanting attention, and I clenched my fists against the sheets, willing myself to hold back. Moon’s pussy had drowned me, but fuck if I wasn’t up and swimming again.
“Got a boner again?” Hendrix teased, shifting closer.
Conrad turned his head slightly, his gaze flicking over me. His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “You need to come again, bro,” he said, his voice calm but laced with heat.
Moon looked up, her lips glistening as she eyed my erection. “I think he does,” she murmured, as she crawled toward me. Her hand trailed up my thigh, her nails grazing the sensitive skin, but she stopped just short of where I wanted her, teasing my V with her fingertips. “Let’s see how long you can last this time,” she said with a roguish glint.
I groaned, my hips jerking upward as her fingers brushed over my pubic hair, the light pressure making my cock jerk.
Hendrix chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly over my thigh as he glanced at Moon. “You’re playing a wicked game with him,” he said, his voice low and mischievous. “But you should make him beg properly.”
Moon’s gaze flicked to Hendrix, her smile devilish. “Then help me,” she said softly, her tone calm but leaving no room for question. “Touch him, but only where I say. For right now, I think you should play with his balls.”
Hendrix’s grin widened as he knelt at my other side, his fingers grazing the inside of my thigh before cupping my balls. He rolled them gently in his palm, his movements deliberate and controlled. “You’re trembling, Holden.” His tone was teasing but obedient to her command. “Tell us how it feels.”
“I’m sensitive as fuck and you teasing me feels good, but I need more,” my breath hitched, my voice unsteady. Moon moved with quiet authority, grabbing a sheer scarf from the nightstand. She held it up, letting the fabric flutter lightly between her fingers before trailing it over my chest, brushing so lightly it was almost maddening.
“Please,” I muttered, my hands fisting the sheets, my voice raw with desperation. “Do something. I can’t?—”
Her soft laugh sent another shiver through me as she lowered the scarf, letting it drift over the head of my cock. The sensation was maddening—a barely-there touch that sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through me, tightening the ache that already had me shaking. “Oh god,” I moaned, my hips thrusting into the air, desperate for more contact. “Please—don’t tease me.”
“Don’t move,” Moon said, her voice steady but gentle, her smile wicked as she flicked the scarf again. “Let me decide when you get more.”
Hendrix’s fingers tightened slightly on my balls, squeezing lightly before rolling them again, his other hand hovering just above my groin, waiting for her next instruction. Moon’s gaze dropped to him, and she gave the faintest nod. “Now lower,” she said. “Brush his seam.”
Hendrix obeyed, his thumb pressing against the sensitive skin below my balls, circling slowly as my thighs trembled. “They’re so full.” His voice dripped with satisfaction. “Feels like he’s ready to burst.”
The scarf swept over my tip again, soaking up the slick pre-cum as Moon dragged it lightly along the ridge, brushing the sensitive spot until I cried out. Hendrix pressed his thumb lower, circling the edge of my hole without slipping in, and the tension coiled impossibly tighter, every nerve screaming for release.
“Please,” I begged, my voice raw and shaking. “Please, I need—oh fuck?—”
Moon’s eyes stayed locked on me, her movements measured as the scarf flicked over my tip one more time, the sensation sharp and overwhelming. And then Hendrix’s fingers pressed against my asshole, rubbing slow, maddening circles that sent shocks of pleasure through me, the pressure pushing me right to the edge.
“Should I let you come, Holden?” she mused, her voice sultry and unhurried. “Or should I keep you right here, trembling for me?”
A desperate whimper tore from my throat, my body arching into the friction, into the heat of Hendrix’s fingers pressing slow, maddening circles against my asshole. “Fuck—please, Moon. Let me come, I can’t—I need it, please.”
“Come then, give it to me—every last drop.”
My entire body arched off the bed, a guttural cry tearing from my throat as the dam broke. My cock jerked violently, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into the sheer fabric. The heat splattered across my stomach, the sticky streaks soaking through the scarf as Moon held it steady, satisfaction written all over her face.
“Goddamn,” Hendrix exclaimed, his hand sliding away as I collapsed against the bed, trembling. “You came without us even working your dick.”
Moon grinned, holding up the scarf, now wet and glistening with my release. “Who knew you liked scarves so much,” she said softly, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re incredible, Holden. So responsive.”
I let out a shaky laugh, my chest still heaving as I tried to catch my breath. “That was…fuck, that was insane.”
“And you loved every second of it,” Conrad said smoothly, his tone dripping with approval. “I would too, having Moon play domme and edging me into oblivion. That was sexy as fuck.”
The warm weight of Moon’s gaze drew my attention, and when I managed to lift my head, I saw her watching me with a soft, satisfied smile, her fingers trailing lazily up her chest.
Conrad’s hand slid lower on her hip, his grip firm but unhurried as he pressed a kiss to her neck. His lips brushed her ear, and she tilted her head back against his chest, her curls spilling over his shoulder like a cascade of chocolate. She melted into him, her body soft and pliant as his hand skimmed down her side to her thigh. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the sight. She looked perfect there, her body curved against his, her lips parting as his mouth moved along her neck.
My breath hitched as Hendrix shifted beside me, his body warm where it pressed against mine. His hand eased away from my thigh, his palm still hot from where he’d gripped me moments ago. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmured, “You knew we’d take care of you.”
I turned my head slightly, my green eyes meeting his for a moment. There was something knowing in his gaze, something that felt sharp but steady, grounding me even as the rest of me trembled. I held his gaze just long enough to feel the heat of it before my attention was pulled back to Moon.
The room buzzed with heat, the air heavy with everything we’d done, everything we’d said without words. I leaned back slightly, letting the moment settle over me like a weightless blanket, a haze of heat and contentment. The promise of more hung in the air, making my skin prickle, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes for a moment, letting myself get lost in it.
The haze of last night lingered, a blur of heat and whispered confessions that left my mind spinning long after we’d finally collapsed into bed. Sleep had been fleeting—too many thoughts, too many sensations still buzzing under my skin—but morning had come anyway, dragging me into the harsh light of reality. The dull fatigue from staying up most of the night clung to me as my phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling me out of my restless thoughts. I grabbed a mug of coffee from the kitchen and plopped down on the sofa next to Hendrix, who barely glanced up from the guitar he was lazily strumming.
Just as I was taking a sip of coffee, I saw a notification pop up on my screen. Hendrix’s phone buzzed on the coffee table at the same time. I looked down at the text Blanton had sent to both of us.
Blanton
Looking forward to seeing you boys tonight for dinner. Is Conrad coming too? Lots to discuss.
I sighed, tossing my phone onto the couch as Hendrix leaned over to glance at the screen. “We’re being summoned.”
Hendrix glanced at the message, smirking. “Think this is about last night?”
“Safe bet.” I typed back a quick response.
Conrad’s tied up with a school project. Just us.
The reply came almost immediately:
See you at 6.
By the time we arrived, the late afternoon light bathed the house in a golden glow, the azaleas in the front garden still vibrant from the recent rains. Blanton and Fanny’s Victorian home was as picturesque as ever, its wide, wraparound porch dotted with wicker chairs and hanging ferns that swayed in the breeze. A glass pitcher of iced tea sat on the small table by the door, condensation pooling at its base.
Inside, the rich scent of fried shrimp hit me immediately, mingling with the warmth of butter and spices. “You’re just in time,” my mom called from the kitchen, her tone light and welcoming. “Shrimp’s coming off the stove. We’ve got hushpuppies, coleslaw, and a big skillet of succotash, so I hope you brought your appetites.”
“Smells amazing,” Hendrix said, leaning against the counter to grab a piece of shrimp from the plate. Fanny swatted at his hand, but her smile softened the gesture.
Blanton appeared from the dining room, a shaker in one hand and a grin on his face. “You boys want a bourbon rickey?” he asked, pouring a stream of fizzy liquid into two glasses. He handed one to Fanny, who accepted it with a nod of approval. “It’s good—light and crisp.”
“Why not,” Hendrix said, shrugging. “Might as well start strong.”
I took the glass Blanton handed me, the mix of bourbon, lime, and soda water sharp and refreshing on my tongue. “Not bad,” I admitted. “Better than your usual ‘small-batch bourbon straight’ spiel.”
Blanton raised his glass in cheers. “Even I like to mix it up now and then.”
“Apparently,” Hendrix smirked, unable to contain himself. I looked away shaking my head, squeezing my laughter shut before making a scene.
Our dining room was warm and inviting as always, the mahogany table polished to perfection and set with my mom’s best china. A platter piled high with golden-fried shrimp took center stage, flanked by bowls of hushpuppies, coleslaw, and a vibrant succotash speckled with fresh corn and lima beans. The smell alone was enough to make my stomach growl.
Hendrix and I were quiet at first, focusing on the food, but it didn’t take long for Blanton to steer the conversation toward the inevitable. He leaned back in his chair, his bourbon rickey resting in one hand. “So,” he began, his tone casual but deliberate. “Let’s talk about last night.”
Hendrix set his fork down, meeting Blanton’s gaze evenly. “Okay. So?”
“I’d start with what you were doing there,” Blanton said, his voice light but pointed. “ The Silver Vine isn’t exactly a college hangout.”
“We go to lots of different bars and clubs downtown. What were you doing there?” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended.
My mom chuckled softly, breaking the tension. “Look, it’s not some terrible secret, boys. Blanton and I go there sometimes. We’ve…cultivated certain freedoms in our marriage. What we do there is private, but we’re not ashamed of it.”
Hendrix raised an eyebrow. “And the guy you were with?”
Blanton’s expression didn’t falter, but his fingers tapped against his glass. “Lucien is a business associate. And a friend.”
“Interesting friend.” Hendrix’s voice was laced with skepticism as he leaned back in his chair.
Blanton didn’t take the bait. “What’s your interest in him?”
“We’ve seen him before,” I said, keeping my voice measured. “He’s…hard to miss.”
Blanton nodded slowly, his gaze sharpening. “Lucien can be intense. Our dealings with him are professional. And, occasionally, social.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the air heavy with unspoken questions. Fanny finally broke it, her voice light but curious. “Now, what about you two? Is there someone in your life we should know about?”
Hendrix glanced at me, and I hesitated before answering. “Yeah,” I said. “There is. Her name’s Moon.”
“Moon,” she repeated, her smile widening as she leaned forward slightly, her curiosity evident. “That’s a lovely artistic name. Tell me about her.”
“Well, she’s from Asheville,” Hendrix said. “She came to Charleston for the theatre program at CSAL. She’s studying musical theatre.”
“She’s really good,” I added. “We just saw her in Cabaret. She’s an amazing singer and dancer.”
Fanny’s smile brightened. “Musical theatre? How exciting. I’d love to see her perform.”
“Yeah, I actually met her at an open mic night. Her friend bailed, and she needed guitar backup,” Hendrix shared. “And Holden—well, I guess he can tell you,” he trailed off.
“I met her first. In the poetry section at Press. We both attended the book club there.”
“You went to a book club, Holden?” Fanny asked with a surprised smile.
“Well, I went to meet Moon. And Moon went to book club. So, ya know…”
Blanton, who had been quietly sipping his bourbon rickey, glanced up. “I have some friends who are patrons of the theatre program at CSAL,” he said. “She could meet them at the gala. It might be good for her to make those connections.”
Hendrix nodded. “She’d probably like that.”
“So…are you guys all friends, or…what’s the deal?” Fanny asked, her expression open and curious.
I glanced at Hendrix, who gave me a faint nod. “She’s…with both of us,” Hendrix said carefully. “And with Conrad.”
Fanny’s eyes widened briefly, surprise flickering across her face before she composed herself. “All three of you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, my face flushed, feeling the weight of her gaze. “We’re still figuring it out. It’s…complicated.”
Fanny’s smile returned, warmer now, her eyes alight with intrigue. “Well, any girl who can capture the interest of all three of my boys must be someone special. I’d love to meet her.”
“You will,” Hendrix said, his voice steady. “Eventually.”
“How about next Sunday?” she suggested. “Bring her to dinner. And to the gala at the gallery—it’s about time she met the family.”
I exchanged a glance with Hendrix, his brow furrowing just slightly. “We’ll ask her,” I said finally, knowing there was no easy way to refuse.
Blanton set his glass down with a faint smile. “And how do you boys feel about this…arrangement?”
“It’s new,” Hendrix said, his tone guarded but honest. “We care about her—and each other. We’re figuring it out.”
Fanny’s gaze softened, her smile warm. “Love doesn’t always fit neatly into boxes. As long as you’re all happy and kind to one another, that’s what matters.”
Blanton raised his glass, his expression measured. “To new additions,” he said. “And navigating…complicated dynamics.”
We clinked glasses, the ringing shrill in the quiet air, and as I sipped the last of my drink, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of the questions we’d have to answer.
I was still reeling from the revelations at dinner by the time I crashed on the couch, phone in hand. Hendrix was pacing around the room, tossing out bits of commentary as we tried to figure out how to explain the evening to Moon and Conrad.
We defaulted to the comfort of our chaotic group chat—because when your family dinner involved revealing the name of a shadowy man from a sex club and introducing your unconventional poly relationship to your parents, texting just seemed easier.
Holden
So…we told Fanny and Blanton about you, Moon.
Moon
told is a vague word
what exactly did you say?
Hendrix
that you’re with us
and conrad
Moon
…and?
Fanny wants you at family dinner next Sunday. Also the gala at the gallery.
Moon
am I being summoned!?
we haven’t even met yet
Hendrix
she called you “special”
she thinks it’s time you met the family
Moon
it’s giving godfather
Well I think she can’t wait to have some female company. She’s used to a total bro fest.
Conrad
and she fuckin loves it…but she’ll love you too, moon
Hendrix plopped onto the couch beside me, smirking as he typed.
Hendrix
my dad was mostly cool about it
Moon
mostly?
He asked how we felt about the “arrangement”
his words, not mine
Moon
classic. what did you say?
Hendrix
that we’re figuring it out and we all care about each other
Moon
aww that’s so genuine and wholesome coming from you
so you didn’t say anything about us all fucking, right?
Jesus fuck no.
I don’t use the word ‘fucking’ with my mom.
Moon
yeah yeah well why be prude when we saw them at a sex club
Oof true, but no we didn’t go into the nuts and bolts.
Conrad
nuts and bolts lol
Moon
I like your nuts and your bolts
Smh you’re ridiculous.
Conrad
wait, back up
what about the guy?? the one at the club
did they say who he was
Yeah. Lucien.
Conrad
that’s it? no last name?
Hendrix
nope just lucien
dad said he’s a business associate and a friend
Moon
“friend” lol
Conrad
with benefits clearly
Moon
I mean, good for them, I guess?
but this guy seems sketchy af
Hendrix
my dad was very careful about how he talked about him
Moon
also what am I supposed to wear to family dinner!?!?
Hendrix
something classy casual
My mom loves a good Southern Belle moment.
Moon
yeah okay okay but how about the gala at the gallery
do I wear I cocktail dress?
A minute later, Moon’s name popped up with an attachment.
Moon
what about this?
She’d sent a photo of herself in a slinky cocktail dress that looked like it had been poured onto her. The fabric was a deep, shimmery midnight blue, clinging to her curves and dipping low enough to see her breast bone with her round perky tits scooped to either side.
Hendrix
jesus
thanks for the boner
that’ll work
Conrad
that dress is HOT
but naked is hotter
Before any of us could respond, another photo appeared in the chat—this one sent by Conrad. Moon, lying back on her bed, nothing on but a cascade of chocolate-brown curls spilling over her shoulders. The sunlight through the window softened the edges of her form, but it didn’t hide a damn thing.
Moon
CONRAD
Delete that
Hendrix
thanks for the orgasm
We’re not deleting that.
Moon
Well I expect some sexy pics back from y’all
Hendrix
let’s be real no dick pic is gonna be as sexy as you all sprawled out with a thoroughly fucked flush
It took a few minutes for the chaos to settle before Conrad dragged the conversation back to Lucien.
Conrad
back to the point
what do we know about this lucien guy?
Nothing yet. But I think we need to dig into it.
Moon
agreed, we should start with James’ art
we gotta figure out the meanings of those symbols and clues
Hendrix
we’ve got the photos conrad took at the studio, let’s start piecing it together
Conrad
and if we don’t find anything there?
Then we go deeper. Follow the clues. Whatever Lucien’s into, it’s connected to whatever James was leaving hints about.
Moon
maybe we should start tracking down the locations in the paintings
we know the alley by the silver vine but we should try to figure out the others
Conrad
yeah definitely
Hendrix
and i wanna figure out what the fuck that crow and key symbol is
Moon
for sure
time to play detective y’all
The conversation slowed as we mapped out a rough plan: dig deeper into James’ art, research Lucien and the symbol, and—somehow—get through family dinner and a public gala without causing a scandal. The group chat fizzled into playful chaos again, but I couldn’t help feeling the weight of what we were stepping into. Lucien, James’ art, The Silver Vine —every piece was starting to feel like part of a larger, darker puzzle. And somehow, Moon had become the brightest point in all of it.