Rhythm of Three (Rule of Three) (7 page)

“We gotta get going.” Chris threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. “Got shit to do today.”

Dag’s hand dropped to the mattress as Chris disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush, then the shower start. He lay there, heaviness seeping through his body. Letting out a long breath, he rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling.

Okay. They had shit to do today. No lazing around in bed on a Saturday for a little fucking around. Just the two of them. Ah well. This might take a while.

He rolled out of the bed and ambled to the kitchen, completely naked. As he opened the door, the fridge blasted him with enough cold to shrink his dick, which was saying something considering the epic morning wood he was displaying. He grabbed a can of Coke, popped the top and drank deeply.

He wiped a hand across the back of his mouth and sauntered back into the living room. For a moment he considered joining Chris in the shower. His dick rebounded and practically led him there, thinking of a slick, wet, naked Chris soaping up in the shower. Christ, he could picture the rounded muscles of his biceps flexing, covered with bubbles as he washed himself. He pictured Chris’s hands on his dick and balls, washing there, stroking himself…fuck, he was hard as a table leg again.

He started toward the bedroom, Coke can gripped in his hand, but the shower stopped.

Fuck.

He sat on the bed, drinking his Coke, waiting for Chris to emerge. When he did, he had a towel around his hips, and the sight of that body made need explode inside Dag and sweat break out on his forehead. His cock was a throbbing spike.

“Dude,” he said casually, leaning on one hand. “What’s the rush?”

Chris glanced at him. His gaze ran up and down over Dag’s naked body, pausing on his enormous erection. He continued over to the dresser and yanked open a drawer. “No rush.” He shrugged. “I wanna get to IKEA and get that furniture. It’ll take a while to put it together.”

“Isn’t Kassidy going to come with us?”

Chris turned to him with a grin, even as he dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of boxers. Dag’s cock twitched. He watched Chris adjust the elastic around his hips with his thumbs hooked beneath it, so masculine, so fucking hot. “No way, man. We take her into that store and we’ll be there for fucking hours. Seriously.”

“Huh.” Dag could see this.

“She’ll want to look at every damn thing,” Chris continued, stepping into a pair of knee-length plaid shorts. He flicked up the fly and did up the button. Dag continued to watch his movements with heated interest. “You name it. Then she’ll want to completely redecorate. I’m not kidding.”

“Yeah.” Dag drained the Coke. “I get it.”

“If we just go, we can be in and out faster than you can say ‘Allen wrench’.”

Dag laughed. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Whatever. It was domesticated and tame. It wasn’t rolling around hot and sweaty on rumpled sheets. But it was with Chris.

As they pulled onto the ramp for I-90, Chris driving, Dag in the passenger seat, Dag said, “So. Wanna talk?”

Chris slid him a sideways glance. “About what?”

“Sex.”

Chris choked. “What?”

Dag grinned. “Sex. Between you and me.”

“Jesus.”

“I know you were thinking about it. Not as in horny thinking about it—well, okay, maybe that too—I mean, it’s understandable that you might have questions.”

Chris swallowed.

“So talk to me.”

Silence.

Dag repressed a sigh. “I know you like to be in control. Are you worried that because you bottomed for me you’re less dominant?”

“Jesus Christ.” Chris pressed his lips together, staring out the windshield. “Okay, yeah, I thought about that.”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean that,” Dag added, glad Chris had finally opened up, even just a bit. “Just so you know, I like to switch things up. Everyone has their own preferences, and you need to experiment and try things out to know what you like. So, if you want to top, I’m into that. Big-time.”

Chris’s Adam’s apple rose and fell again.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Good to know.”

“So…you wanna try that?”

Chris lifted his chin. “Yeah.”

“It’s all about what feels good. You gotta tell me, babe. It’s gotta be good for both of us, no matter how we do it.”

“Right. Fuck. I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

Dag reached over and gave Chris’s thigh a hard squeeze. “We have to talk. I’m gonna make you, even when you don’t want to.”

Chris shot him another sidelong glance, and his lips twitched. “Okay.”

They bought the furniture, loaded it into Chris’s vehicle, and unloaded it and carried it into the condo, which was a bit of a workout, reminding Dag that he should look into a gym membership if he was going to stay in Chicago. They also made two stops on the way home—one at a drugstore for a huge bottle of lube, which made Chris shake his head and flush, the other stop for sub sandwiches for lunch. They ate them as they contemplated the gazillion pieces of furniture they now had to assemble.

“Shit,” Dag said. “This could take a while.”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t you buy this stuff already built?”

“Sure, but you have to pay extra.”

Dag resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It would totally be worth it, but then, he wasn’t the one paying for this stuff, Kassidy was. “If I’d known this, I would have paid for it.”

Chris gave him a sharp look. “Yeah, there you go again with the money thing.”

“Jesus Christ. So I have money? What the hell is wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” Chris scowled. “I don’t know why it bugs me. I have money, okay? I make well over six figures a year, plus bonuses. You don’t need to help us out.”

“I’m not ‘helping you out’. Christ. It’d be worth it to me to have more time with you two, instead of spending the whole fucking weekend building furniture.”

“Come on, it’s fun.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I like building stuff, putting shit together.” He narrowed his eyes at Dag. “You don’t have to help if you have better things to do.”

Dag shook his head, crumpling up the paper wrapper of his sandwich. “I could probably think of twenty better things to do, but, shit, man.” He reached for the printed instructions, then muttered, “Whatever.” He wanted to be with Chris, but didn’t want to sound all sappy.

Chris was organized and methodical, different than Dag who would’ve just jumped in. Chris cleared working space, figured out what they needed, and then got to work, giving Dag directions. Yeah, he was the boss. Dag smiled. He’d let him take charge this time. But not every time…

Kassidy arrived home a while later from her lunch with Hailey. She stood in the door, surveying them sitting on the floor with pieces all around them. “Hey,” she said. “You went without me?”

Chris and Dag’s eyes met and a glimmer of amusement passed between them.

“Yeah, didn’t know how long you’d be,” Chris said. “I wanted to get started.”

“Damn.” Her bottom lip pushed out. “I haven’t been to IKEA in ages. I wanted to look at kitchen stuff.”

“We don’t need any more kitchen stuff,” Chris replied.

“You did that on purpose,” Kassidy said. But she was smiling.

Chris smiled back at her. “Yeah.”

She rolled her eyes.

“How’d lunch go?” Dag asked.

“Pretty good.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I learned stuff about my sister I never knew.” She told them about Hailey’s mixology ambitions. “I’m kind of ashamed I didn’t know that stuff about her. But we had a good talk. It’s a start, I hope.”

“Did you ask her why she made a porn movie?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “That was something I didn’t want to talk about at first, but I forced myself to ask. I think she feels it was a mistake. She did it because some guy came into Kiss one night and was flirting with her and telling her how gorgeous and sexy she was and would she want to be in a movie…typical lines…and it was true, but turned out to be a porn movie. She said she didn’t see anything wrong with it, it was good money, but I suspect it was just another way to be as bad as she could be, to shock people.”

Kassidy shook her head. “She doesn’t have to do that. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe now that I’ve told her I’m impressed with what she’s doing with her career, she won’t feel a need to be so outrageous. Or maybe it has nothing to do with me, and I’m just clueless and naive.”

“Babe,” Dag said. “You’re sweet. Not naive. And definitely not clueless. I think you’ve got a good read on her.”

“You’re always good at dealing with people,” Chris muttered. “Hailey’s wacked but still…”

“She’s my sister.”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” Kassidy said. “We could’ve paid to get this stuff built and delivered.”

Dag choked on a laugh and met Chris’s eyes. “Great idea,” he said.

Chris shook his head and laughed.

At least Chris didn’t take himself that seriously; he could still take a joke. A hot sensation swelled in Dag’s chest. Love.

Chapter Six

As they ate dinner that night—tacos Kassidy made—Dag said, “So what are we going to do about your parents coming to visit, Chris?”

Chris’s gut clenched and he looked down at the soft tortilla in his hand. “Fuck if I know,” he muttered. “Shit. Why now?”

For a moment they all went silent, thinking about this problem. Chris shook his head. He loved his parents but, man, this was bad timing. He was happy to have them visit, pleased to show off the new condo he and Kassidy had bought, proud to show off how nice Kassidy had made it look. They loved Kassidy. But, wow, his dad would have a stroke if he knew what was going on with Dag.

But was this something he could keep from them forever?

“Like I said,” Dag spoke up. “I’ll leave if you want. Even if it’s just for a few days. I can go stay at the hotel again.”

“No.” Chris’s response was immediate. Then he dropped the taco to his plate and rubbed between his eyes.

“It might be the best solution,” Dag continued quietly. “I don’t mind. If it makes things easier for you.”

Yeah, it might be the best solution. But after everything they’d gone through, Chris found himself not wanting Dag to leave again, even if it was mutually agreed on. Guilt about kicking Dag out last weekend still weighed heavily on him. Guilt about hurting Dag, unintentionally, also bore down on him.

What was the alternative though? He could just picture his parents there, and he and Dag and Kassidy saying good night to them and heading into the bedroom. Together. Yeah, that would go over well.

“Look, this is soon,” Dag said. “Don’t sweat it that you don’t want them to know. You might
never
want them to know.”

Chris raised his eyes and looked at Dag. “It’s fucking tough, man.”

“I know.” Dag reached out and grabbed his hand. “I know. Let me do this.”

Kassidy watched the two of them, a faint crease between her eyebrows, her pretty mouth tight. “We’ll do whatever you want, Chris,” she added. “We know your parents wouldn’t take it well. That’s nothing on you.”

“I hate this,” Chris said.

Dag’s eyes flickered. “Hate what?”

“I hate lying. I hate hiding things. I hate it that I feel I have to.” He stared at Dag, whose face softened.

“I know.”

“I told you that I would tell them if I was going to see them. Like I said, it’s not fair to you to deny your relationship with us. I’m not ashamed of it.”

“I know,” Dag said softly, holding his gaze.

“It’s reality,” Kassidy added softly. “We all know that. It doesn’t matter, honey. We’re together, and we love each other, even if we do have to hide it from some people, in the end it doesn’t make any difference to us. Right?”

He nodded, his throat dry and rough. He picked up the beer sitting next to his plate and took a big swallow. “Right. Okay. That’s what we’ll do. They arrive Saturday. I’ll go pick them up at the airport. They’re staying for a week.”

“Fuck! A whole week?” Dag shook his head.

“Yeah. It sucks.”

“Whatever. We’ll live through it.”

As they ate and talked about more inconsequential things, Chris tried to imagine the future. He’d always known Kassidy would be in his future. He loved her. He was probably going to marry her. They’d probably have kids. But now he couldn’t imagine that future without Dag, without him there too, living with them. What if his parents wanted to spend Christmas together? Were they going to ship Dag out to a hotel? Or what if his parents invited them to Miami for Christmas? Would they leave him behind?

He was going to tell his parents.

Maybe.

Next time.

No, he was going to do it this time.

Fuck it, he had no clue what he was going to do. “I need another beer,” he announced, pushing back his chair. “Anyone else?”