17. Wes
17
WES
“So what happens now?” Jett asked, his smile fading.
“Now we decide what we want to do about all of this. The three of us,” I said.
“How do you feel about what we just told you?” Ez asked gently. “I know this has to be really overwhelming for you, especially after what happened?—”
“Nothing happened.” He looked away, pain and something I couldn’t read clouding his features. “I got groped on a dance floor. That’s it.”
Ez put his hand over mine where it rested on his thigh, effectively silencing me before I could tell him it was a big deal.
We’d barely made it inside the club when a sense of dread had fallen over me. Ez must have felt it too, because we’d both zeroed in on the dance floor and on Jett as those two fuckers accosted him.
I hadn’t seen him dance with them or anything that happened before they’d boxed him in and gotten handsy, and the rage I felt when he tried to push them away hit so hard and fast it took my breath away. Ez was the only reason I didn’t beat them into next week for daring to touch him.
Thank fuck he kept a clear head. Getting into a fight in the middle of the club was a great way to get my ass kicked by a bunch of drunk randoms who’d jump in without knowing the situation. That wasn’t how I wanted to spend my night.
I would have, and so would Ez, if Jett hadn’t been able to get away. But he’d managed to extract himself before things had gotten too far.
For most people, an incident like that would shake them up and maybe piss them off when the shock wore off.
But Jett was different.
He might seem like a typical twenty-three-year-old, but he wasn’t. He’d lived a full life and had a ton of experiences that most people his age didn’t, but he’d also been sheltered from things that most would consider normal experiences.
He’d never dealt with being harassed and groped on a dance floor. He’d probably never felt the fear that went along with knowing you were outnumbered and wouldn’t be able to fight your way out of something.
Especially if he’d gone to the club to try and deal with his confusion.
The first time he’d gone to Envy was after he found out about his ex-wife. He made an impulsive decision because he was hurting.
Was that what drove him to the club again tonight? Had he gone there to hook up like he said or because he was trying to feel something?
“What do you think about what we just told you?” I asked, steering the conversation away from what happened to him. Hopefully he’d talk to someone about it when he was ready.
He chewed on the corner of his lip.
“Did you have anything to drink tonight?” Ez asked.
Jett shook his head.
I bit back my relief. This conversation needed to happen, but only if we were all sober.
“I’m sorry.” Jett examined the seam in his jeans intently.
“Why are you sorry?” Ez prompted gently.
“I didn’t keep your secret.” Jett looked up at us. “I told Nick because I was going crazy and needed to talk to someone and?—”
“It’s okay,” Ez said, beating me to it. “It wasn’t fair of us to put keeping our secret on top of everything you were dealing with. I’m glad you talked to him.”
“You are?”
“Yes,” I said to be sure he knew we meant it.
Jett toyed with the links in his watch, running his finger over each one before moving on to the next. “I don’t really understand what’s going on, but I think I have feelings for you too?” He looked away and focused on the wall. “I mean, I know I do. But I don’t know what they are. I like you, and I like being your friend. But I like the other stuff too.” His cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink.
“The other stuff?” Ez asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Jett shifted his gaze from the wall and shot Ez a flat look. “You’re really going to make me say it?”
“Yup.” His smirk-smile was back in full force.
Jett rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling theatrically. “You’re annoying.”
“You like it,” I quipped.
“Maybe.” His smirk matched Ez’s. “The other stuff like the dates and sex.” His neck and ears went red with a blush, but he didn’t look away.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He bit his lip and shrugged.
Right. He’d never dated anyone, especially not a couple he worked with. This had to be even more confusing for him than it was for us.
“Do you want to date us?” Ez asked. “Or do you want to just be friends?”
He chewed on his lip, worrying it between his teeth.
“Or we could just do a casual thing,” I suggested, my heart sinking. I didn’t want that, and neither did Ez.
“Casual?” he asked, then went right back to chewing on his lip.
“Something in between friends and dating.”
“Like a friends-with-benefits thing?”
“Something like that,” Ez said, his tone a bit evasive. “But not quite.”
“What else is there?” Jett asked.
“A casual relationship. I can’t do the friends-with-benefits thing,” I said, not caring that I was putting all my cards on the table. “There are too many feelings involved. Pretending they’re not there will only lead to all of us getting hurt.”
“How would casual work?” Jett looked between us. “How would that be different from dating?”
“I guess it’s more semantics than anything,” I said. “Casual dating would basically be us seeing each other. We’d go out on dates and hang out, but without commitment. Dating would mean you were our boyfriend.”
His breath caught, and his eyes rounded in shock. “Boyfriend?” he squeaked.
“Yes.” Ez squeezed my hand, a sign that he was as nervous about Jett’s answer as I was.
“You want me to be your boyfriend?” Jett asked, his voice cracking on the last word.
“If you want to be.” Ez gripped my hand so hard my fingers ached.
We’d talked about this last night during dinner and then again after we watched a movie. Then we continued the conversation in bed until the early hours of the morning.
We’d discussed every possible scenario at length and knew exactly where we stood on everything, but none of that mattered if he didn’t feel what we did.
“How do you know what you feel for me is real?” he asked, pain filtering into his voice. “How do you know it’s not just because I’m not a stranger or because you feel some sort of guilt or whatever because you were my first? What if we start something and you realize you don’t actually like me that way the more you get to know me?” Now he sounded panicked, like he was slipping into hysteria. “What if?—”
“Jett,” Ez said in that commanding tone that always snapped me out of my spirals. “Breathe.”
He sucked in a breath and held it, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.
“Now let it out nice and slow,” Ez coached. “Again. That’s it. You’re doing good.”
Jett’s eyes took on a slightly glassy quality, and his posture relaxed.
“Think about it this way,” Ez said. “We’ve been together for almost eight years and have played with thirds for the past two. Not once in all that time have we ever considered the possibility of seeing one of them again, let alone bringing them into our relationship. Do you think we’d do that if we weren’t sure that what we felt was real?”
Jett slowly shook his head.
“We’re flying blind here too,” he continued. “We have no idea what any of this means, but we want to explore what’s between us if you do.”
“This is a lot.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I know what I want, but I’m scared to want it.” He pulled a face. “I’m such a loser?—”
“No talking smack about yourself,” I cut him off. “This is a confusing situation, and we just dumped all of this on you with no warning or buildup. It makes sense you’d need some time for your brain to catch up.”
“And you don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Ez said. “Take all the time you need to think things over.”
Jett blew out a breath like he was blowing a raspberry into the air. “All I’ve been doing for the past few months is thinking. I’m tired of thinking.”
“Why did you go to the club tonight?” Ez asked.
“Why did you?” Jett shot back, some of his defiance coming back.
“Do you think we went there to pick someone up?” I asked.
Was that what he thought?
He shrugged and looked away.
“Jett,” Ez said in his voice .
Jett slowly swung his gaze back to us. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious.”
“Why do you think that?” Ez asked carefully, his hand on mine telling me to keep quiet and let him handle this.
“Because that’s what you do. Why else would you go to the club?”
“To dance,” Ez said, his tone neutral now.
Jett stared at him suspiciously.
“Do you remember when we told you we don’t always go out with the intention of hooking up?” I asked gently.
He nodded, his head bobbing slowly.
“And how we always talk about these things first and plan everything to the last detail when we do?”
He nodded again.
“Tonight wasn’t about anything other than getting our dance on.”
He blinked at me like a confused owl. “Really?”
“Really.”
I let him sit with that for a moment.
“Did you know we were going there tonight?” Ez asked.
I hadn’t even thought of that. Had he gone there because of us?
The blush staining his cheeks told us everything. “I overheard you talking about it at work,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t planning on going, but then I needed to get out, and I thought…”
“Thought?” Ez prompted.
“That if you guys can change the rules, so can I.” His chin jutted out defiantly.
“You didn’t go there to hook up with a random, did you?” A knowing smile split Ez’s lips.
Jett shrugged.
“You went there looking for us?” I asked, needing to make sure I heard him right.
“So what if I did?”
Ez’s smile fell at the same moment my happiness at the thought that he’d gone there to seek us out faded.
Had something triggered his impulsive behavior?
“What happened before you went to the club?” I asked.
Jett crossed his arms but didn’t look away. “I got in my head about some stuff, and I just kind of decided to go.”
“What did you get in your head about?” Ez pressed.
“Nothing important.”
“Are you sure?” I asked gently.
He sighed. “I don’t talk about my past a lot. I guess I freaked out that I shared all that with you. Not because I thought you’d be dicks or because I don’t trust you. I just haven’t really dealt with a lot of that shit, and it messed with me.”
Ez and I exchanged a look. We should have realized that telling us so much in one conversation would be like opening Pandora’s box. And hoping things would just settle and go back to the way they were when we closed it had been the wrong call.
“I don’t even know what started it,” he continued. “I was just sitting at home, and I saw a couple of videos that made me realize how alone I am. I started thinking about my family and how no one had my back when all the shit with Jacob and Noami went down. I always knew that no one really cared about me, but I guess it just hit different tonight, and I needed to do something to make the pain go away.”
“And you thought of us?” Ez prompted.
He nodded. “But then I remembered you were going to the club, and I freaked out. I got it in my head that you were going to find someone else because you realized how broken and fucked up I am.”
“You’re not broken or fucked up,” Ez said firmly.
“Aren’t I?” he burst out. “You have no idea how many times I’ve done shit like this. How many times I’ve done something stupid because I got in my head and acted without thinking.”
Something about his anger felt different. This outburst wasn’t just about tonight.
“I went to the club to seduce you when you said you just wanted to be friends. Then, when I didn’t see you, I just decided that you’d already found your toy for the night, so I was going to do the same. I was going to fuck a stranger because I was mad at you. I danced with that guy even though I didn’t want him. Who does that?”
“Someone who’s hurting,” Ez said.
“I do that too,” I said softly. “I get in my head about stuff, and it’s like it takes over. I don’t want to think about it, but I can’t stop. And my thoughts get meaner, and I convince myself that all these horrible things are true without any evidence.”
Jett chewed on his lip, his eyes big as he took in everything I said.
“Then I get this feeling. It’s hard to describe, but it’s almost like a compulsion. I have no control over what it is, and I usually don’t even want to do it, but it’s all I can think about. It’s like trying to fight smoke. You can’t catch it, you can’t push it away. You can’t get rid of it. It just swirls around, suffocating you until it feels like you’re going to tear your skin off if you don’t give in.”
Jett blinked rapidly.
“And when you do give in, it feels good for about five seconds, then the guilt and shame and whatever else hits, and you feel even worse than before and nothing is better.”
“That’s exactly it.” Jett swallowed. “I hate that I do it.”
“Me too. But it’s not your fault. You’re not broken or fucked up for it.”
He chewed on his lip, silence stretching between us.
“Do you want us to take you home?” Ez asked.
He shook his head.
“What do you want?” Ez asked.
“The same thing I wanted when I went to the club.” He licked his abused lower lip, heat filling his gaze.
My dick throbbed, and my body tightened.
Ez sat quietly for a moment, studying Jett intently. “And what did you want, exactly?”
Jett didn’t look away. “You.”
A wicked smirk slid over Ez’s mouth. “And what did you want us to do to you?”
He sat up straighter. “I wanted you to fuck me again.”
My cock went from half-hard to impersonating a steel pipe in about two seconds flat.
“Do you still want that?” Ez asked in his voice .
My balls throbbed, and my dick pulsed at both his tone and his words.
Jett nodded.
Using his foot, Ez pushed the coffee table that separated us back so there was enough room for Jett to sit on it, then patted the top. “C’mere.”
“Why?” He looked between us.
“We need to talk about boundaries and limits before we do anything.”
He hesitated but came to sit on the table in front of us.
“What do you want tonight to look like?” Ez asked. “Do you want it to just be sex, or do you want it to be like it was before?”
“Before,” he said quickly.
“How about Ez and I tell you the stuff we’re into, and you tell us if it’s something you’re interested in too?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Before we start, you have to promise to be honest. These situations only work if everyone is on the same page.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
“You might have noticed we’re talkers,” I started.
His cheekbones went pink. “Yeah. I definitely noticed that. I like it,” he added quickly.
“That’s good to know. Do you have any trigger words?” Ez asked.
“Trigger words?” Jett rubbed his hands on his thighs absently. “I have no idea what you mean. Total newb here, remember?”
“Are there any names you don’t want to be called? Any words you have a bad association with or would rather not hear?” I clarified.
He paused thoughtfully. “Not that I can think of.”
“Even the degradation?” I asked. “Calling you those names was okay?”
Jett’s ears flushed as pink as his cheeks. “Yeah. That was fine.”
“How about toys?” I asked.
“Toys?” He swallowed. “Um. Yeah?”
“Was that a question?” Ez said with a soft smile.
Jett chuckled. “Sorry. This is a bit weird. I’ve never talked to anyone about this kind of stuff before.”
“It’s fine. Take your time.”
“I guess it depends on the toy, but I used them when it’s just me, so…” He let that hang in the air.
Ez glanced at me, heat flashing in his eyes. Toys were his thing.
“How about topping?” I asked, trying to get the image of Jett using a dildo on himself out of my head.
“Like me top you?” Jett's eyes rounded comically.
I grinned. “I’m vers. I like pitching and catching.”
“Yeah. If you wanted me to.” He rubbed one hand against his flushed cheek, like he was trying to scrape the color away.
“What about role-play?” Ez asked. “Like we come up with a scenario and act it out together?”
“Yeah. That sounds good.” He put his hands on his lap to cover the clearly visible bulge.
“What about being restrained or held down?” I asked.
He paused, then slowly nodded.
“We need to hear the word,” Ez said softly.
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Is there anything you’ve wanted to try or you enjoy?” We had other things on our lists, but those were the major ones. We could discuss the others if they came up later.
“I’m not sure.” His neck flushed pink. “I like when you guys are in charge.”
“Do you like being taken care of?” I asked softly.
Jett nodded, his eyes bright with something I couldn’t read.
“Do you know what safe words are?” Ez asked.
“Like when you say some random word to make things stop?”
“That’s one way of using them. The other is the stoplight method. Have you heard of it?”
“No.”
“It uses the colors of the stoplight to tell us what you want. Green means it’s good and you want to continue. Yellow means you’re not sure and you need to press pause or break the role-play. Red means you need things to stop immediately or you don’t want to do something. Does that make sense?”
He nodded.
“Which would you rather use?” I asked.
“Which do you guys use? I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“We usually use the stoplight method.”
“Then we’ll do that.” He tapped his fingers on his knee and flicked his gaze to my crotch.
“Anxious?” I teased.
He pinned me with a look, his usual sass back. “I was promised a hot threesome, and all we’ve done is talk.” He stared pointedly at the bulge in my pants. “And it’s not like I’m the only one.”
“Cheeky.” Ez laughed softly. “Okay, Mr. Anxious, are you sure you want this? Use your colors to answer.”
“Green.” His gaze darted between us. “That’s the right way to do that, right?”
“It is.” Ez held out his hand. “How about you come and sit on my lap for a bit?”
With a furtive glance at me, Jett took Ez’s hand and let him tug him off the coffee table.
“There you go.” Ez gripped his hips and gently tugged him down.
Jett got the hint and straddled his lap, settling one leg on either side of Ez’s thighs.
“Good boy.” Ez rubbed Jett’s sides.
Jett’s breathing hitched.
Sliding closer to them, I got up on one knee so I was level with Jett.