Chapter 26
EDWIN
I waited in the living room, desperate to clear the air between us.
I hated snapping at James, but it seemed I’d done a lot of it lately.
I heard him shoving his dirty clothes in the washing machine along with mine, then his soft footfalls as he headed along the corridor to the bathroom.
The rhythmic pattering of the shower came soon after.
When he found me, he was barefoot and clad only in pyjama bottoms, rubbing at his hair with a towel.
“You didn’t used to leave the bathroom until you were dry and dressed,” I commented.
“I don’t have to hide my ears anymore.” He finished with the towel, then scowled. “Need my hairbrush.”
“D’you want my comb?”
“No, I’d probably break it.” He disappeared, then returned with the brush and curled up in the armchair. “Gah, this is a knotty mess. We’re out of conditioner.”
“Want me to do it?” I hovered unmoving until he gave me a terse nod. Then I slid my comb from its drawer and plucked the brush from his fingers. “Lean forwards.”
He was tense at first, but when he realised I wasn’t going to pull his hair by the roots and make him yelp, his shoulders relaxed.
The brush would barely go through an inch without snarling up, so I switched to the comb and started at the ends.
I’d known his hair was thick — anyone with working eyes could tell you that — but I’d never been allowed to really touch it before now, and good lord, there was a lot of it.
I teased it carefully, methodically, and before long he was breathing easily as I added in the brush.
“You’re very good at this,” he murmured.
“My mother had very long hair. After she washed it, we’d sit in front of the fire and I’d help her comb out the tangles.” My throat had a funny lump in it as I pictured Mum in her nightgown and housecoat, head bent much like James’ was now, trusting me to help her.
“That was nice of you. Sounds like you loved her a lot. You know, to take the time.”
The lump grew a bit. “She was all I had.” I picked up the brush once more to smooth down the next section of detangled strands. “I mean, I had my mates, but yeah, I did love her. She was a good mum. We were a team. Me and her against the world.”
“I miss my mum.” It was the barest whisper, one I’d almost certainly not have picked up without my supernatural hearing. I emptied my hands and came to kneel in front of James, taking a hold of his knees.
“Do you want to talk about her?”
His sigh was deep and ragged. “I dunno.” I waited, unspeaking, sensing there would be more. “Baxter found out where she’s living now. Same for my grandparents, but I don’t think I want to see them. Or not ’til I know more about them.”
“Do you want to see your mum?”
“Maybe.” He reached up to feel his hair. “I can finish this.”
“Don’t be daft, it won’t take a minute. Besides,” I resumed my place behind the chair, “if you hadn’t noticed, I like any excuse to touch you.”
He tsked, but settled to let me finish. When it was done, he thanked me and went to put his brush away, then I heard the familiar sounds of him making something to eat.
He brought through a bowl of pasta and a drink, and I sketched while he ate.
As he was rinsing the dishes, my mobile phone buzzed. It was Trace.
“Not like you to call my mobile,” I said cheerfully. “Everything all right?”
“All is well. But I gave Marlowe my bed and now I can’t sleep. I wondered if I might—”
“Come on over.”
I locked the door behind him as he slipped inside moments later. “Are you sure James doesn’t mind? Did you ask him if this is okay?”
“He’s fine with it. Not that I asked his permission, because if you recall, we both want to build something with you. We can’t do that if you’re walking on eggshells waiting for invites all the time.” I tugged him against me and kissed him softly.
He sighed and leaned into me as I deepened the kiss. He slid his arms under my shirt, stroking my back with fingers that felt needy and hopeful. We made out for a while against the wall until finally he had to take a proper breath.
“You can wreck me with just your kisses. What am I going to do?” His erect cock pressed against mine, the slight rasp of fabric as we shifted back and forth a heady torture I wanted more of.
“We could take this somewhere more comfortable?” I mouthed the smooth skin of his neck, working my way down until I captured his Adam’s apple. “You have such soft skin. I’d not met a human who never has stubble until you. It’s a novelty. And you taste delicious.”
“Thanks.” He huffed a laugh. “I’ve never been able to grow a beard. Can’t say I mind overmuch.” He slipped one hand down the back of my trousers. “I’d very much like to continue this somewhere.”
“Wait here.” One last quick kiss, because I loved tasting him and hearing him sigh like that when I touched him. I stuck my head into the kitchen. “James, Trace is here.”
He turned around. His eyes darted to my groin and he smirked.
“So he is. I hope you’re not asking my permission for anything because I thought we’d had that discussion.
” He crossed his arms over his chest as if daring me to disagree.
I could feel doubt oozing from his pores though, so instead of taking him at face value, I crooked a finger.
“Really?” He rolled his eyes, but stepped forward.
“Nearer, I don’t bite.”
He sniggered. “You’re so full of shit, Eddie. And you definitely need some new lines because we both know that’s a stone cold lie.” But his eyes crinkled and he walked into my arms with a sigh that seemed less resigned and more inquisitive.
I bent my head to smoosh my nose into his newly washed hair and breathe in the scent of him. “It was a line that worked perfectly well for decades, you know. When I was a strictly one-and-done kind of man. You’ve thrown a tree onto the tracks of my pick-up lines, Mr Wilson.”
He sniggered again, then tipped his head up. “Is this an invitation to join you, by the way, or do you want privacy?”
“You’re always invited, love.” I cricked my neck backwards. “Isn’t he, Trace?”
“Of course.” Trace joined me in the doorway, his eyes hot as he raked them over James’ partially clothed frame.
“I can’t think of a time when I wouldn’t want both of you, separately or together.
” He held up a placating hand at James’ wince.
“It’s all right, I know joining in might be too much for you, James, but I want to say again so there’s no misunderstanding, as much or as little as you can give is just fine.
That won’t change, regardless of how long we do this. Right, Eddie?”
“Right.” I shimmied them both towards the bedroom. “We should probably get comfortable.”
I clamped down on my tongue when James stepped out of his pyjama bottoms, his snug boxer-briefs clinging to his arse and thighs. Do not comment. He’s evidently okay with this right now.
Instead of saying something unhelpful and ruining the mood, I stripped at speed down to my underwear, then sat on the bed and curled a hand around James’ waist. “Kiss me?”
His gaze flickered to Trace, then he met my eyes steadily as he nodded. “Hold me?”
I knew what he wanted. He’d recently confessed he liked it when I held him firmly.
I had to do it right so as not to freak him out and make him feel trapped.
With Trace’s eyes on us, I urged James to bend so he could rest his knees on the mattress between my open thighs.
I clasped him around the neck and by one hip until there was almost no space between us.
My lips fucking tingled as they met his, I was so turned on.
He opened for me on a breathy sigh, melting against my chest as I sucked on his tongue and licked over his teeth, which tasted minty from his tea.
The rustle of fabric over my shoulder told me Trace was divesting himself of his clothes.
I mentally urged him to approach, while feasting on the scent and taste of James.
Now his ears were no longer a secret, he allowed and encouraged me to touch them.
So I did, running my tongue along the shell, lightly enough to make him shudder with need.
“Lick the tips.” A husky rasp behind me. James’ warm hands landed on my shoulders as Trace added, “He’ll love it.”
“Just how many Fae have you banged to know that?” I chuckled.
My breath gusted over James’ delicate skin, bringing him out in goosebumps.
“On second thoughts, don’t tell me. It’s probably best I don’t know.
” I clamped careful teeth around the tip of one ear and scraped upwards. James moaned loudly. “Fuck.”
Oh yeah, he does like that. “Put your hands on me, Trace? I’m doing all the work here,” I quipped.
I didn’t mind, because it turned out James wasn’t the only one who liked being watched, something new I’d discovered since he’d come into my life.
But I’d never say no to a hot man pawing at me.
Or two, it seemed. James tightened his grip on my biceps and panted as I made a meal of his ears and neck, writhing against me as I devoured him.
Warm hands made a slow map of my own neck, then my shoulders and down my spine. Questing fingers burrowed under the waistband of my boxers, slipping low to caress my bollocks. I gasped.
I felt James smile against my cheek. “What’s he doing to you?”
“Playing with my nuts. I could do the same to you if you’d like.” I felt rather than heard his sharp intake of breath. “No pressure, love. Only ever what you want.”
“I want that.” Hesitant, then more firmly. “I want you to do to me what Trace is doing to you.”
“You might not say that in a few minutes,” I murmured, “but I’ll take it slowly. Remember, all you need to say is ‘stop’ and I will, immediately. Shall we all lie down?”