Page 100 of More than Need

He hesitated with his hand over the doorknob.

“Riley?”

For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t a coward. Whatever Dawson had to say, he’d deal with it.

He yanked open the door, lips pursed. “Dawson,” he said. It helped mask the rapid thumping of his heart. He checked his lover over. Other than looking tired—like he hadn’t slept well—and his wrinkled clothes, he seemed unharmed. He had a bag slung over his shoulder. An overnight bag. It eased something inside Riley. Why would he bring that if he weren’t planning to stay the night? One more goodbye fuck didn’t seem like Dawson’s style.

“I might be offended by the look on your face, consideringyouinvitedmehere,” Dawson said, glaring. “Still haven’t worked out how to be nice, have you?”

“I’m not the one who ignored you like a child for three days.”

“I told you I needed space.”

“A simple ‘I’m still alive’ would have sufficed.”

“Fucking hell, I hate you.”

Riley pulled Dawson to him, into an open-mouthed kiss. He took control, turning Dawson’s head right where he wanted him. He dragged the man inside without letting go, shoving him against the door as it slammed closed. He needed to re-stake his claim, force sounds out of him that only he and Gideon could. Show him with more than words that he belonged here, with them.

His bag slid to the floor with athud,and Riley kicked it away so he could get closer.

He froze at the sound of a polite cough.

Quinn.

Fuck. The second that Dawson’s mouth had touched his, he’d completely forgotten about his visitor.

He lifted his mouth from Dawson, who swayed a little, eyes glazed over. Looking thoroughly debauched, he was a fucking walking wet dream. Riley wanted to keep going, take off all his clothes, and lay him out over his bed. Kiss every inch of him and make him scream. He’d never had anyone in his own bed before him and Gideon, had never invited anyone here. It was personal, and he didn’t do personal.

The memory of their skin against his sheets and their heads on his pillows made him glad he never had. The privilege belonged to them alone.

He ran his thumb over Dawson’s bottom lip, taking his time to acknowledge the second man in the room. “Dawson, this is Quinn, one of my detectives.”

“And old friend,” Quinn added. “He likes to conveniently forget that when he’s doing his bossing routine. I saw him puke his guts up at the academy once after too many laps around the oval during PT.”

“I was eighteen, and they made us run for hours.”

“I could have gone without the musketeer routine,” Quinn agreed.

Riley could have as well. The number of punishments they went through because of some punk that hadn’t even made it all the way through would haunt Riley forever.

Dawson’s brown gaze held an easy-to-decipher question. Quinn being his detective wouldn’t answer it, since Gideon held the same title.

“Justmy detective,” Riley said, settling a hand on the small of Dawson’s back. “And old friend,” he tacked on at the end so Quinn didn’t chuck a fit again. He could get dramatic, and Riley didn’t want to deal with that right now.

“Don’t worry,” Quinn said, a smile playing on his lips. “He’s a pain in my ass but not that kind. There’s only one man that would ever tempt Riley to break the rules. I imagine you know him?”

Breaking the rules seemed to be the theme around here.

“Yeah, I might have met him once or twice,” Dawson replied. “I think I’ve seen him naked too.”

“I have heard that rumour.”

For fuck’s sake. Riley rubbed his forehead. “For someone who’s in a relationship with four men, I don’t think you have a right to throw stones in here.”

“Are you planning on adding some more and evening the score?” Quinn asked in amusement.

“No,” Dawson said, a growl in his tone.

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