Chapter 7
Harvey
"Wow. I've never seen anyone be so bad at every single game," Zak teases me, slapping my leg.
"Zak!" Jack chides him, slapping his leg. "Don't be rude."
"He's being honest," I intervene since I have lost Love Letter, two rounds of Sushi Go!, and now, Exploding Kittens. "These are some weird-ass card games. I'm more of a traditionalist."
We've had another great dinner, and now we're sitting on the living room floor around the coffee table, playing, drinking, and chatting.
One of us may be polishing off another amazing selection of mini cupcakes Zak has made.
You'd think after three helpings of dinner—that Alfredo sauce was divine—I'd be full. But I'm a big boy.
I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. I was still a little self-conscious before coming over, but unless I'm reading it way wrong, I get the feeling Zak and Jack aren't put off by my appearance. If anything, they've been taking turns low-key checking me out.
"What sort of card games do you like?" Zak asks, taking a sip of beer, his eyes on me.
"You know, normal games like blackjack, hearts, poker."
"Poker, huh?" He breaks into a wide grin, casting a quick glance at Jack before aiming those light-brown eyes square at me. "We could play some poker if you like."
His eyes are gleaming in a way that seems…
suggestive? Orrr, I'm a loser who never leaves his house, is hopeless at reading social cues, and has totally been misreading everything tonight.
I haven't had a date in years, and here I am thinking these two great, successful, hot-as-hell guys are checking me out. I need to get a grip.
"Care to make it interesting?" he offers with a tongue pop.
I reach over to grab my beer bottle. I've had four all evening. For a guy my size, it means I'm barely buzzed. "What do you have in mind?" I say before I take a slow swig, my eyes meeting his.
"How would you feel about some strip poker?"
Thank god I just swallowed otherwise I'd be sputtering beer all over the room. "Seriously?"
"Sure." His eyes roam up and down my body. Okay, I did not imagine that. "Why not?"
I turn to Jack since this doesn't sound like something he'd be into. But when I catch him giving me the same once-over Zak just did, I get the sense that might not be the case.
I decide to check anyway. "Are you in?"
He nods, tongue scraping on his lower lip. "I am. Need to warn you, though, I'm terrible at the game."
Let's recap here. These two incredible guys have invited me over. They're relaxed and funny and super easy to talk to. I'm having fun despite losing horribly at card games I've never heard of.
And my body doesn't seem to disgust them.
Feeling emboldened, I hedge, "Sounds good to me."
And with that, the game gets underway. Things become competitive real fast. One bad hand leads to another, and clothes start coming off, piece by piece. Both Jack and Zak are down to their drawers, while I'm faring slightly better with my jeans on, as well as one boot.
"Damn it," I grumble, throwing my hand on the table. "There goes my lead."
"Ha! Ha! Off with the shoe." Zak laughs.
I kick off my left boot and mutter, "Now we're all down to one piece of clothing."
Jack's brow furrows as he blinks. "But you're still wearing jeans."
"Exactly." I chug the rest of my beer. "Like I said, one item left."
"So you're a commando guy, hey?" Zak asks, resting his hand on my thigh.
We're sitting close to the coffee table, and since all three of us are tall, there's been a lot of incidental touching throughout the evening.
This doesn't feel incidental, though. This feels deliberate.
"Yep. It's a little hard to, uh…"
"Find underwear that fits?" Jack suggests, his voice soft as he comes closer on the other side.
"Yeah." I drop my head only to feel soft fingers hook under my chin a few seconds later. It's Zak, guiding my head back up. "That's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know." My heavy shoulders sag. "It's stupid."
"It's not stupid if that's how you feel," Jack says, placing his hand on my other thigh. "What are you feeling?"
I blow out a long breath. They've both been upfront with me, I guess there's no harm in reciprocating that honesty, even if I'm about to air out something that I've never shared with anyone before.
"I feel like a freak of nature most of the time. The other day, I went into town and scared a little girl. I can't find clothes that fit, so everything has to be tailor-made. Underwear is impossible. And sex—"
Whoa. I inhale sharply. That was definitely a bridge too far.
Silence fills the room.
Until…
"And sex isn't pleasurable for you because you're too concerned about your partner's experience because, despite repeated assurances they were a size queen and could handle it, they can't?"
I blink at Jack like he's some sort of sex sorcerer. "How did you know?"
"We work in porn, remember? We've encountered a few well-hung performers with the same issue."
"We've also experienced it ourselves given that we're well hung," Zak adds with a mischievous smile.
I look at him then turn to Jack, and holy shit, these guys get me.
"Any objections if we ditch the game?" Zak asks, flinging his cards over his shoulder, his other hand inching higher up my inner thigh. "And occupy ourselves with something more fun?"
He glances at me. I give a small nod even though I'm in disbelief that this is happening. That two amazing, super-hot guys want me. Actually want me. "I'm cool with that."
"Jack?" Zak checks. "You cool, too?"
His eyes fall to Jack's hand. He seems fixated by the growing bulge behind my zipper. Can't remember when I started getting hard, but it's getting to the point where it's painful now.
Jack edges nearer. "Yeah. I'm cool."
And with that, Zak gets to work on freeing my cock while Jack curls a hand around the back of my head, bringing my forehead to his. There's a moment of hesitation, a shaky breath, and I half expect him to snap back to his senses and put a stop to this.
But he doesn't.
He firms his hand in my hair, and his tongue delves past my lips into my mouth. He tastes like beer and Alfredo sauce and something else uniquely him. I haven't kissed anyone in so long I'd forgotten how nice it is, how intimate.
The kiss deepens, and he lowers both hands to my meaty pecs, kneading them like dough. A hoarse grumble erupts from my chest, and I pull him in so close he's practically on top of me.
"Uh, Jack." Zak's voice cuts through the air, and Jack draws back a little, glancing down at his best friend.
"Yeah?"
Zak has freed my cock, and from this angle, it looks monstrous, easily longer than his face. He doesn't look overwhelmed. With a sly grin, he tells Jack, "Think I'm going to need some help down here."
Jack nods, but before he joins Zak, he flattens his palms against my chest, looks directly into my eyes, and says, "You can relax and enjoy this, Harvey. I mean it. We know what we're doing."
I brush my thumb along his stubbled jaw. "Thank you."
Little did I know that truer words have never been spoken.