Chapter Nine #3
Then as if realizing something, he moved over to my chair. He pressed one hand to the back and the other to my thigh—mere inches away from my deflated cock. In an instant, he pressed his lips to mine, demanding entrance.
I granted it.
And tasted both the familiar and the new. Tyson’s taste I’d recognize anywhere, but Hamish’s cum was unfamiliar to me. I savored it.
I liked it.
Tyson grinned against my lips, then pulled back from the kiss. He winked and headed out of the room—I assumed to the bathroom.
I envisioned him jerking off, but he was back mere moments later with two wet washcloths.
I used mine to clean the cum off my hands.
Nothing to be done about the rest of the mess, but I’d take care of it once my guests departed.
Considering the debauchery that took place in this room, I wasn’t surprised.
Although I preferred to mix sex and BDSM in Cole’s dungeon, I’d also brought guys home here for regular hookups.
A few had let me tie them up. A fair number had let me gag them.
Anything to prevent them from disturbing my tenant downstairs.
Tyson gently pried Hamish’s tight grip from the blanket, and once he exposed the flaccid cock, he softly cleaned it.
Hamish stirred. He cracked his eyes open and met Tyson’s gaze. “I didn’t, uh, tell you I was coming.”
I liked how, when the doc got flustered, he used uh a lot.
“I have enough experience to read the signs.” Tyson winked. “I might be a little rusty, but I remember enough.” He leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to Hamish’s lips. “You were magnificent.”
The denial was clearly on Hamish’s lips, but Tyson silenced it—and him—with another kiss.
Hamish offered me a sheepish smile.
I’d returned my cock to my pants. Did he see? Does he want me? Will he give himself permission? I didn’t have straightforward answers to those questions.
Tyson helped Hamish tuck himself in and do up his pants. “You going to be okay to drive home?”
Hamish nodded.
“You need some water or something?”
With a quick shake of his head, Hamish reached for his lukewarm tea.
Tyson swiped it and headed to the kitchen.
Hamish frowned.
“He’s a nurturer. Let him do his thing.” I smiled gently.
“And what are you?”
His question surprised me. It shouldn’t have—but it did. “A commander, I guess. Someone who takes care of his people by ensuring they follow orders. Applying safety to everything they do.” I shifted to find a more comfortable position.
Hamish patted the couch.
After a moment, I moved to join him. I sat beside him, and to my surprise, he grasped my hand.
Tyson returned with Hamish’s warmed tea and handed it to him. Then he took my old seat on the dining room chair.
Hamish pointed to his other side. “There’s room. There’ll always be room.”
Does he realize what he’s saying, or is it just the hormones?
Tyson snagged his bottle of pop and resettled. “Sometimes I just want to sit back and watch.”
I pulled our joined hands to my lips and placed a gentle kiss to Hamish’s knuckles.
His eyes widened.
I made a promise to myself that I’d always show him affection—if he’d let me.
Please, God, let him. I need him to know what he means to me.
We sat, in silence, for a long time. A peace like I’d never known. Just being was enough.
Eventually, though, my guys had to leave.
I stayed on the couch, accepted kisses on the cheek from both of them, and watched as they headed down the stairs together.
A fair amount of time passed before I heard their cars pulling away—well, Tyson’s anyway.
Hamish’s was so fricking quiet. Part of me wondered what they’d discussed, and part of me accepted they’d have moments they shared that wouldn’t involve me—and I was okay with that.
I would appreciate being looped in, but I wasn’t the jealous type.
When having to decide between getting up to pack for LA and curling into a ball, surrounded by Hamish’s scent, I chose comfort.
But pack I would, come tomorrow, because wearing sweats while escorting Julie down the carpet at the Golden Globes didn’t fit my idea of grandeur.
And naturally, she’d do up my pants and my shirt for me, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to embrace independence again.
I also didn’t want to think about the fact we were getting on a plane tomorrow. We should’ve gone days ago—with Cole and possibly Caressa—but obviously, that’d all been set back. Altered. Changed.
If not for Meggibeth, I never would’ve met Tyson and Hamish.
Apparently, Cole and Caressa had previously met Tyson, but that investigation was closed. So no reason for me to cross paths with the sexy cop.
I snagged my phone and set my alarm extra early. This wasn’t like me—I liked to be packed and ready at least a day in advance.
Julie’d texted to our group chat to confirm we would meet at the airport in the morning. Kelci had replied on her behalf, as well as Elouise’s, that they’d be there.
I sent a quick confirmation, eyed the lamp, decided shutting it off was way too much hassle, cuddled under the blanket, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.