Chapter 4
An hour later, Riley’s lips still burned from the memory of Gideon’s kiss. He now knew what the man tasted like, sounded like, felt like against him. A fantasy come true, only to be snatched away. Nothing good could come of this. Gideon’s position as his detective put this firmly in the restricted zone.
Riley had no right to touch him, and he had nothing of worth to offer. He didn’t do relationships, and Gideon deserved better than that. Not to mention that if they were found out, not even Riley’s father’s position as chief superintendent would keep them out of hot water or save their careers.
He checked the time again and then gathered his things. He’d agreed to meet one of his closest friends, Sebastian Devlin, for an afternoon coffee, and if he didn’t leave now, he’d be late. Sebastian’s job as a high-profile criminal defence lawyer meant he had even less time for social calls during the day than Riley did, making it important to be prompt for such occasions.
He didn’t bother taking any of his work with him; he’d be coming back here afterwards. No use carrying it all around with him for no reason.
Riley only made it as far as the relatively quiet alleyway beside the precinct. As soon as he saw Dawson sitting in a car by himself, head down, looking at something, he knew he couldn’t keep driving. He should have been long gone.
He swung into the lot and parked a few spots away.
Dawson didn’t look up, even when Riley stood directly at his window. He tapped on the window, and Dawson’s head jerked up. His face fell, and he opened the door a fraction. “What do you want?”
“What do I want? What are you still doing here?”
“None of your business.”
“Wrong. You’re still parked at my police station.”
“Do you own it?”
Riley refused to answer that childish response.
Dawson sighed. “My car won’t start. Happy?”
He’d be happier if Dawson would leave him alone. And based on the game he played on his phone, that didn’t look to be happening any time soon.
“You didn’t think to call someone for help?” His car wouldn’t start, so he’d… decided to sit in it and play some strange word game on his phone?
“I tried. They didn’t answer. Now go away.”
“Try them again,” Riley said firmly. “You need to leave.” The sooner he did, the sooner Riley could be on his way.
“Can’t you just, like, pretend to be nice for once in your life?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even ask me what was wrong with my car.”
“Because I don’t care.” Riley didn’t know a lot about cars himself. He could change a tire, his oil, and jump-start his car if the need arose. Everything else he left to the professionals. He had insurance, his brother Kellan—who had been his primary mechanic for a long time—and Roadside Assistance.
Dawson sighed and leaned his head back against the seat. “I already told you; they’re not answering. They’ll call back when they get the message. Until then, I’m staying here.”
“Get out of the car,” Riley said, moving out of the way so he could.
“Am I under arrest?” Dawson asked sarcastically even as he complied. He tipped his head up and winced at the sun shining down on them. “Don’t you have to read me my rights first?”
“Do you have Roadside Assistance? RACV, AAMI, I don’t care who.”
“RACV. And no, I didn’t call them. Right now, I just want a ride home. I want another shower, a nap, and a juicy fuckin’ cheeseburger. Except that I’m late for a job I’m supposed to be on, and even my bosses aren’t answering their phones—it feels pointed and coordinated at this point—though one of them’s probably not answering because he’s cursing my name and preparing to do ritualistic things to me in some horrific murder and—”
Riley put a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “Be quiet.”
Heat flared in Dawson’s eyes, and Riley’s body responded, a shiver racing down his spine. He didn’t need to be attracted to this man on top of everything else. Whatever his body felt, it would be denied this. It had been lucky enough to get a taste of Gideon. He’d never been greedy, and he wouldn’t start now.
“My brother is a mechanic. We can leave your keys at the front desk, and he’ll check it out for you. In the meantime, if you promise to keep your mouth shut and not say even one more single goddamn fucking word today, I will give you a lift to wherever you want to go. Within reason; if it’s outside of Sydney, I’ll take you to the nearest train station.”
“Where would I be going outside of Sydney?” Dawson asked the second Riley lowered his hand.
“You didn’t even last five seconds,” Riley said in irritation.
“I’m sorry, are we starting now?” Dawson said sarcastically. “How can I tell you where I need to go if I can’t talk?”
“Fine,” Riley bit out. Did the man even know how to shut up? Riley had ways he’d like to do it. “Where do you need to go?”
The place he mentioned wasn’t outside of the city, at least, and not even all that far away. Small miracles. “What time were you supposed to be there?”
“I guess that depends what the time is now.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Riley leaned into the car and took the keys from the ignition before shuffling Dawson out of the way and closing the door and locking it. “Go sit in my car. And don’t touch anything.”
“Wouldn’t want my fingerprints used as evidence.”
“Now, Dawson.”
“Fuck, you’re bossy.”
Riley opened his passenger door and waited for Dawson to slide in before leaning in close, one hand braced on the headrest. “That keeping your mouth shut? It starts now.” He slammed the door before Dawson could respond.
He sent a quick cursory text to Kellan and handed the keys to the front desk with instructions to only give them to his brother—a specific one, not just any brother. The last thing he needed was for Lucas to unexpectedly drop in and get awarded custody of them for being in the wrong place at the right time.
Dawson didn’t say a word as Riley got into the driver’s seat. With any luck, he would stay that way for the entire ride.
Riley’s reprieve lasted until they were out of the city areas and into quiet suburban streets.
“What are they like?” Dawson asked.
“Who?” Riley asked, though he had a sneaking suspicion he knew. Unfortunately. Too much to ask for their conversation to steer clear of the subject.
“Your—the people who adopted you.”
“My parents ?” Riley said, raising an eyebrow and glancing at his passenger. “They’re none of your business.”
“I’m just making conversation.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re prying into things that have nothing to do with you. Do you think that if I tell you I had a horrible childhood it justifies Sadie barging into my life unannounced the way that she did? That somehow, she’d be doing me a favour by giving me back a family I lost?”
“Don’t put words into my mouth,” Dawson said stiffly.
“I don’t need to; you put them there yourself.” Riley rotated his palms over his steering wheel, the leather sliding over his skin. “For your information, I have incredible parents. A family who loves me and didn’t throw me away like yesterday’s garbage. Despite already having a child—and carrying more after me—my parents kept me because they considered me family.”
“That’s not fair,” Dawson said. “You don’t know anything about Sadie’s parents.”
“I know enough,” Riley said coldly.
“Fuck that. You don’t know about their circumstances, back then or now. You don’t know why they did it, who they are as people, or their motivations. You’ve painted them as these villains in your play, but you don’t really know. You don’t have any idea.”
Riley’s pulse thrummed angrily, and he swerved abruptly, pulling the car over. He parked behind a white sedan in front of a plain white house. He turned in his seat, forearm braced on the steering wheel. “I’m thirty years old, Dawson. I’ve lived my whole life as a Sinclair. That’s who I am. Whoever these people are, I don’t care one iota,” he said, keeping his voice measured. “I grew up thinking it was my fault they gave me up. Spent years worrying that something I did or said would mean being given to a new family. Not because my parents ever made me feel that way, but because Sadie’s did. The impact they had on my life simply by not being there, by choosing to hand me off when I was days old, was bigger than you can ever imagine.” He leaned forward, keeping his temper in check by a bare margin. “I paint them as ‘villains in my play’ because that’s exactly what they are to me. You, Sadie, and her parents can all fuck off. I didn’t ask for you to come waltzing into my life as if I should be grateful that my blood is the same as hers.”
Dawson shifted, coming up on one knee, so close to Riley that he could feel his breath across his cheeks. “Sadie didn’t make that choice. She wasn’t even born then, and she shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”
“Neither should I!” Riley roared.
His chest heaved as they stared at each other. Riley didn’t know who moved first. Their mouths found each other in a harsh kiss. A clash of teeth and tongue, Riley pouring out all of his frustration and anger into it. Need throbbed low in his belly, and he roughly tilted Dawson’s head, diving deeper. Hands fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” Dawson gasped harshly. “I still think you’re an asshole.”
“I don’t care,” Riley said, dragging him back in for another kiss. Between Dawson and Gideon, Riley felt like a fucking inferno with no relief. Within two days, they had both turned him inside out so fucking effortlessly. He had no control, only an insatiable need driving him.
Dawson tugged at Riley’s belt, and Riley should have stopped him. They were idling on a side street in front of someone’s house, for fuck’s sake. Anyone could walk past, and as an officer of the law, he knew better. He’d arrest someone else for doing it.
Instead, he helped Dawson drag his briefs down so that his hard cock sprang free. Dawson’s hot hand closed around him, and his hips automatically pushed up into the tight grip.
Riley tore his lips from Dawson’s, panting heavily as their eyes locked again. Brown, like Gideon’s, and yet completely different. Darker, like a void.
“What?” Dawson breathed out.
Riley didn’t answer, choosing a kiss over talking. Every time Dawson opened his mouth and spoke, he pissed Riley off.
Dawson renewed his efforts on Riley’s cock, every slide of his hand filled with friction and heat. He pulled away and reached behind himself, pulling a condom from his wallet.
Fucking hell, were they really doing this here? “We shouldn’t—”
“We should,” Dawson said, ripping the packet open. “You don’t want my mouth around your dick?”
When he put it that way, it sounded dangerously reasonable. Even if he ignored their parking situation, they’d only met yesterday, and irritation still prickled under the surface. Dawson annoyed him on a level he didn’t think anyone else had ever reached.
It didn’t seem to matter; he wanted to see those pouty lips wrapped around his cock. He watched wordlessly, with half-lidded eyes, as Dawson rolled the condom on and then replaced his hand with his mouth.
Wet heat surrounded him, and he groaned low in his throat. He placed a hand on the back of Dawson’s head, encouraging him to take more in.
Fuck , he felt good. His tongue slid with pressure on the underside of Riley’s cock as he bobbed, hand fisting where he couldn’t get to with his mouth. Riley couldn’t look away as he threaded his fingers through the long strands of dark hair on top of Dawson’s head, tugging them to the side so it didn’t obstruct his view.
Dawson rested a hand on Riley’s thigh, fingers curling in to hold himself there. His moans vibrated around Riley’s dick.
Riley liked Dawson’s mouth much better like this: quiet, with lips stretched around him, filled with his cock. His balls tightened, so close to the edge, too worked up to last long. Dawson suckled his head, tongue flicking over his slit.
Riley clenched his fist, using the grip on Dawson’s hair to push him further down, getting him where he wanted him. He choked as Riley’s head hit the back of his throat.
Riley’s orgasm ripped through him. His head tipped back, hitting the seat as he came, emptying himself into the condom. Part of him wished he could spill down Dawson’s throat and make him choke on that as well.
Riley dropped back against his seat, chest heaving. Dawson stayed on his dick, his tongue lazily swirling, making him twitch from the sensitivity of it before finally pulling off.
Dawson wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well, that’s one way to end an argument,” he said with a husky laugh.
“Not a technique I’ve employed before.” One he shouldn’t have now. So many things he’d allowed to happen that day were against every code he’d built his life upon. He couldn’t blame it on either man; he shouldn’t have given in so easily, and the mistakes were his own. “Do you—” He glanced at the obvious tent in Dawson’s pants.
“Mr. Polite all of a sudden?”
“I can be.” If he wanted. It wouldn’t be a hardship to help Dawson with his problem. It also didn’t require either of them to talk, which seemed the safest option.
“As tempting as that is, I think it’s a miracle we didn’t get caught already.”
Riley couldn’t argue with that. He pulled the condom off and tied it. “There are tissues and wipes in the glove box.”
Dawson got the hint and handed some over to him. Riley wrapped the condom in a tissue and then used a wipe to clean his hands before righting his pants and zipping up.
He glanced around, more habit than anything else, and then clipped his seat belt back on. He waited for Dawson to do the same before pulling back out onto the road. If his hands were on the steering wheel and he concentrated on the road, perhaps this would be the last of his terrible mistakes today.
The tension, sexual and otherwise, ruined what could have been blissful silence the rest of the ride. Riley kept his eyes on the road, not daring to look in Dawson’s direction.
He finally pulled up to their destination. Some kind of wedding venue. White everywhere, half-built arches and people walking around like they had a world-saving purpose. Riley grimaced at the very idea of it. He would never walk down the aisle to make a spectacle of himself.
Dawson didn’t make a move to get out, and Riley didn’t rush him despite the fact he knew Sebastian would be trying to contact him for being late.
“Thanks for the lift.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dawson laughed. “I think that’s the politest exchange we’ve ever had.”
“Dawson—”
“Look, I get it, alright? You don’t want to know about Sadie, and I can’t be neutral about that. I…” His throat worked, and Riley had to force himself to drag his eyes away. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m aware.”
Dawson rolled his eyes. “Talking to you is…”
“Is what?” Riley asked coldly.
“Super fun and not aggravating at all. Just because you’re stupid hot doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to be nice.”
“For what purpose? To get someone to suck my dick?”
A muscle in Dawson’s jaw twitched. “Okay, good talk.” The door closed behind him harder than necessary before Riley could respond to the cryptic sentence. The entire exchange required a translator.
He watched Dawson jog across the lawn to a person who looked strangely like Sebastian’s younger brother, Elijah, but couldn’t be, before he flicked his indicator on and got the fuck out of there.
To cheese or not to cheese? Cheese being the obvious answer, of course. The how is where it all went pear-shaped.
Gideon bent and opened the bottom cupboard next to the fridge, peering inside. The potatoes had tentacles, but they weren’t green or super soft yet, so if he cut them off, they’d still be edible. Edible enough for him , at least. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he pulled them out and dropped them on the kitchen counter.
He could make scalloped potatoes and eat them right out of the dish on the couch while he watched reruns of Border Security . No one even had to know. He could do it naked, and no one could tell him no. Being an adult could be a dangerous trap.
Being an adult depressingly alone in a two-bedroom apartment that felt more like a mausoleum than a home? Even worse. The quiet put him on edge. Somehow music didn’t make it better.
During his search for a chopping board—he had one around here somewhere; he was sure he’d unpacked it only a few nights ago—he found a bottle of unopened Scotch. It looked fancy enough it had to have been a gift from Grady at some point. He didn’t know another liquor snob quite like their resident grump.
Sipping a glass of it while he peeled and sliced the potatoes made the entire activity way more enjoyable. More harrowing, maybe, but he’d be done with the knife by the time the Scotch affected him.
He paused mid-sip, staring at the empty space surrounding him. He and Lucia had cooked together on the evenings they were both home for it. Hudson “helped” if he felt like it and played with his toys nearby if he didn’t. Because of Lucia’s high-demand job, and Gideon’s unpredictable one, they had to get it in when they could.
The stillness here felt unnatural and uncomfortable.
It had been a long time since he’d lived alone. The longest time he’d ever spent away from his child since he’d been born. The sound of his laughter, his nonsensical talking as he played by himself, or the elaborate schemes he created with his toys when Gideon joined in. All of it. Little, inconsequential moments that he would miss.
Gideon almost sliced through his finger, and he cursed, dropping the knife. Christ. That’s all he needed tonight, an emergency visit to the hospital because he’d lopped his finger off.
He eventually got the potatoes organised and into the oven. Someone knocked as he closed the oven. He glanced at the safe near the door that held his service weapon. Officers didn’t take theirs home, but detectives did; he could be called out at any hour of the day, and he rarely had time to head into the office first to sign it out.
“Don’t be an idiot. Burglars don’t knock ,” he muttered to himself. The peephole showed a surprisingly familiar face, and Gideon flung the door open. “Riley.” Damn, he looked way more edible than the potatoes. Still wearing the same suit he had at work, tie a little skewed to the left. His hair stuck up like he’d been running his hand through it. “What are you doing here?” Please say booty call.
Riley held up a gift bag. “Housewarming gift.”
Gideon took it from him automatically before the words registered. Housewarming gift? “Thank you?” What kind of gift would Riley bring? Police badge? A sign that said, “Get back to work.” No, too heavy for that. A book called, How to Be a Police Officer in Ten Easy Steps . No. Police Work for Dummies . Or both.
Maybe it had lube and condoms in it. They could test them out straightaway, for science.
Gideon stepped back with a flourish of his arm. “Come on in.”
Riley hesitated and then stepped over the threshold. His gaze flitted over the open-plan room, where Gideon’s whole life currently resided, crammed in like a storage unit. A dozen stacked boxes held things he hadn’t unpacked yet. It said a lot about the life he lived that after six months, a good ninety percent of his belongings were still packed away. Who even was he without his family? He’d always known he put a lot of importance on his job. He hadn’t realised just how much of his identity revolved around it.
Riley moved to the small square dining table next to the counter, the pads of his fingers tracing the edge of it. It only ever got used for eating when Hudson stayed the night. Right now, the clutter on it made it hard to see the surface. A stack of colouring books, a clear box of colouring pencils, a remote-control toy, and a reading folder that Hudson had left there last week that Gideon still hadn’t gotten back to Lucia.
The couch didn’t fare much better, covered in Hudson’s teddies, a blanket that Lucia’s mum had knitted Hudson when he’d been a baby, and a heated blanket that Gideon used when he got cold and couldn’t be bothered getting up to turn the heater on. The coffee table looked like the dining table. The only clean surfaces in the room were the bench—other than the mess from dinner—and the TV cabinet. Only because the cabinet had doors that closed, and he’d shoved everything in there and out of the way.
Riley ended up standing next to the kitchen bench, right next to the potato peels, tentacles Gideon had cut off said potatoes, and the cheese sacrifices that had occurred when he’d been pouring it over the dish.
“Why did you bring me a gift?” Gideon asked, placing it on the table so he could look inside, too curious to wait. He hoped they were condoms.
“It’s customary when someone moves into a new home,” Riley said stiffly.
“I’ve been here half a year now.”
“Is there a time limit?”
“I guess not.” Gideon carefully peered into the bag. A book-shaped item sat inside, wrapped in a pale-green crepe paper. Fancy. A smaller, similarly wrapped gift rested against it.
Gideon eagerly took them out and held them up. “For me?”
“Your next-door neighbours weren’t answering their door,” Riley replied. “You’re second string, but I’ll let you have them.”
“Their loss.” Who even were his neighbours? He’d never seen them. Gideon decided not to analyse that because he had a feeling that he’d only come out more pathetic. “You even wrapped them.” How long had he had these for, waiting to spring them on Gideon? Had he gone shopping today , or had they been hidden in a drawer at his office? Not the one Gideon had been searching for gum.
Riley’s lips pursed. “They do it for you,” he said stiffly as if the idea that he’d taken the time to wrap Gideon’s gifts was inconceivable.
Gideon tried his best to be careful with the wrapping at first and then succumbed to his baser nature, ripping it off like a kid on his birthday. His lips parted in surprise. “It’s not a police manual.”
“Was that what you expected?”
“Maybe? Yes.” Only sort-of yes. “Or like, paperwork to file.”
“Paperwork to file,” Riley repeated. “What would be the purpose of that?”
A solid question. “It’s your gift; you tell me.” Gideon thumbed through the book. “You bought me a colouring book. And pencils .” Expensive ones too. The kind he couldn’t justify spending money on.
“It’s hardly a state secret that you enjoy colouring books in your spare time.”
The difference here being that Riley had never bought him one before. Not even for his birthday.
He smiled wide and crowded Riley against the counter. “Is this where I say thank you?”
Riley glanced at Gideon’s lips. “You already did.”
“That was before I knew what the gifts were.” Gideon smoothed his hands down Riley’s chest, tugging on his suit jacket, flicking a thumb over a button. “I think they deserve a better, more personal thank you now.”
Riley cupped the side of Gideon’s neck and smoothed his thumb under his chin. Gideon’s eyes fluttered closed, and he exhaled shakily. He’d been craving this all day, like a drug addict with a new addiction to a particularly potent substance. Needed it.
He arched his neck and lifted in a silent demand for a kiss, not wanting to wait another second more for his next fix.
Except that it didn’t come, and his eyes flew open. Riley’s serious face didn’t give him high hopes for the evening. “Riley?”
“I need to tell you something, Gideon, before we go any further.”
Gideon frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I kissed Dawson.”
Gideon blinked. What? That hadn’t quite been what he’d expected. He’d braced himself for more of the same, “I’m your boss,” stuff. Which he didn’t have an argument against because it wasn’t wrong. Not this. “As in?”
“Exactly how it sounds. And he sucked me off in the car.”
Oh. He leaned against his dining table, hands reaching back to brace himself. “What an eventful day for you.” He’d seen the spark of attraction between them and had assumed that the Sadie-shaped issue between them wouldn’t allow it to bloom. “When did you see him again?”
“Long story. We were arguing, and then—” Riley shrugged. “He gets on my nerves.”
Gideon snickered. “He gets on your something else as well.” He really wanted to hear that story, though. How had Dawson ended up in Riley’s car ?
“You deserve to know because of whatever it is that we’re doing. And in case it changes your mind.”
“I’m not changing my mind.” Gideon licked his lips. “My dick is rock hard, and hearing that is only making it worse.” He only wished he’d been there to see it, not stop it.
“Yeah?”
Gideon brushed his hands over Riley’s hips and playfully tugged his belt. “Yeah. Did you return the favour?”
“He didn’t let me.”
Interesting answer. “And if you could have?”
“I would have.”
Fucking hell, why did that sound so hot? He fisted Riley’s shirt and tugged him down. Riley met him halfway in a wet, open-mouthed kiss.
Gideon moaned, leaning into it. Fuck . Heat burst in his stomach, and he opened his mouth wider on a desperate whimper. Riley slid his hand under Gideon’s shirt, warm skin against his back, and drew him closer. Please .
Gideon melted against Riley’s hard chest, reaching to tug at his shirt. He needed to get it off, get his hands all over that hard skin. He exhaled on a shudder as he finally got through, warm skin against his own. Smooth, hard, and fucking Christ , how could this be even better than the first time in Riley’s office?
In his enthusiasm, his nails scraped over Riley’s hip, and Riley winced, disrupting their kiss. “I—” Heat flushed across Gideon’s cheeks. “Fuck, sorry, I—” Damaging the goods wouldn’t keep the mood going.
“Don’t be sorry.” Riley palmed Gideon’s dick, giving one so fucking perfect squeeze. Gideon whimpered, eyes closing involuntarily. Riley’s big hand created a heat that he couldn’t replicate with his own. Another human on top of him, around him? Solo sessions had no hope against that.
Gideon bucked into the touch, a whine leaving his throat. He’d missed this so much. The overwhelming pleasure of it made it hard to breathe.
“You’re very responsive.”
“Is that good or bad?” It hadn’t been like that with Lucia. More of a comforting simmer than something threatening to destroy him from the inside. Never an inferno of heat and greedy need, the desperation to touch and kiss and live .
Riley smoothed his free hand around to Gideon’s ass, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s very good,” he whispered before his mouth took Gideon’s again. Heavy strokes of his tongue, in control and dominant drove Gideon wild, his dick throbbing in Riley’s palm. “Are you imagining it, Gideon? His mouth around my dick?”
Fuck. “Yes,” he moaned out.
“Do you want me to tell you how hot his mouth was? How well he used his tongue? How good he sucked me off?”
“All—” Gideon gasped, rolling his hips into Riley’s palm. “All of the above.”
Riley massaged him, adding pressure, and needy noises spilled out that couldn’t possibly be coming from him.
“His lips stretched and took all of me,” Riley whispered. “I wanted to choke him with my dick. Would you have liked that, Gideon?”
Gideon tensed, toes curling in his shoes, knees buckling. He’d never been more grateful for furniture. Without the counter, he didn’t know how he would stay standing.
Riley slowed his movements and lifted his head with narrowed eyes. “Are you close, Gideon?” His thumb flicked over the tip of Gideon’s dick through his slacks.
Gideon shuddered. Fuck . An understatement. A light wind would tip him over the edge. Thoughts of him and Dawson, a bombardment of sexy images, might be enough all by itself.
“When was the last time you had sex?” Riley asked.
“Like… specifically?”
“Yes.”
“I have no idea.” He couldn’t think, all of his focus on the way Riley played him like a fiddle, absently stroking the head of his cock as if that in any way would stave off his impending orgasm.
He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing five minutes ago, let alone the last time he’d had sex. Longer than he wanted to admit. Nothing that made him feel this out of control and wanton.
Why was Riley asking all of these questions when they should be getting naked?
Riley slowly dragged Gideon’s shirt from his slacks and casually flicked the bottom button open. Their eyes met as Riley made his way up, until the sides opened to put Gideon’s chest on full display. Riley’s knuckles brushed up Gideon’s stomach and over a hard nipple. Gideon’s gut tightened, pleasure rolling over him.
Riley didn’t remove his shirt completely, only shifting one shoulder off to expose an expanse of skin. He rubbed his palm up and down Gideon’s dick, stroking him through his pants. “What would it take for you to come?” He flicked his tongue over Gideon’s collarbone. “For you to lose control and come like this?”
Gideon moaned, swaying. If Riley kept talking like that, he’d come from his voice alone. The husky and sweet tone stroked at the core of him, seducing him. Had Riley always sounded like that?
Riley bit down on the sensitive curve of Gideon’s neck. Gideon gasped, head dropping back. Riley sucked hard, and it went straight to Gideon’s dick. Riley hastened his strokes, grip tight and perfect.
Gideon couldn’t stop the orgasm from rolling over him. He clutched at Riley’s larger body, holding himself up as he trembled and came in his pants for the first time in a long fucking time.
Gideon dropped his head against Riley’s chest, mouthing at the fabric of his shirt, the aftershocks like live wire, tracing over his skin. Fuck—so fucking good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been turned on enough to have such a quick trigger.
He could still feel Riley’s hardness against him. Gideon didn’t know what he wanted to do more: get his mouth all over it, or feel it inside him. Door number three. Both. Anything. All of it. Whatever Riley wanted, he wanted it too.
Riley lifted his head with a thumb under his chin, kissed down his throat and then up again, leaving Gideon’s skin buzzing. When their lips found each other, Gideon couldn’t help the breathless sigh, eagerly fitting himself against Riley’s body. He’d always been bigger than Gideon, but it had never been more obvious than right now. Not bulky like Dawson, more tightly coiled, lean muscle that filled out a suit in all the right places. He would still completely cover Gideon’s body if he pressed him into the bed. God . Just the image of that alone could get him going again.
Riley kissed him thoroughly, swallowing all of the sounds that Gideon couldn’t control. He’d never been a loud lover; he wasn’t like this.
Riley spread a hand across Gideon’s throat, holding with light pressure, and then rolled his hips, holding tight to Gideon’s ass and adding pressure.
Oh God. More needy sounds climbed out from his chest as he panted. Don’t stop. Please .
“Show me your bedroom,” Riley whispered.
Wait. Wait. They needed to slow down. Gideon had a way-better idea, and he needed to get it out before he really couldn’t think anymore. “No,” he panted.
Riley tensed. “No?”
“We should—” Gideon licked his lips, breathing not quite under control yet. “I have his number.” Somewhere in the mess on his dining table, where he’d dropped it earlier.
“I assume you mean Dawson.”
“We could call him and—”
Riley gripped his chin, lips flat, stare both heated and dark. “And what, Gideon?” He said Gideon’s name like a sinful curse.
“We can finish what we’ve all started.”