Page 54 of More than Need

“Right now?” Sadie asked, raising her eyebrows. “Are you alright? Did the potato go right through you? It’s okay, you can tell us. We’re all friends here.”

“What? No. It’s just for work. I’ll be right back. Leave me a yo-yo.”

“No promises.”

He rushed from the room, ignoring their concerned gazes. He slammed his bedroom door shut, leaning back against it. He took a deep breath, willing his rapidly beating heart to calm down. Before he could talk himself out of it, he called the last number he should have in his phone.

He blurted out, “I need to see you,” the second that Riley answered in his brusque tone.

A pause. “Right now?”

“Yes.”Please. The almost-unbearable urge clawed at him from inside.

“Just me?”

“I’ll take whatever I can get right now,” he said honestly. Did he want to see them both? Hell fucking yes, he did. The two of them together were his kryptonite. But expecting them tobothdrop everything because he needed to touch them seemed too much to ask.

Riley didn’t speak for a long moment, and Dawson braced himself for the inevitable rejection. Then he’d have to go back out there and pretend that everything was fine. Smile when Sadie spoke to him, act like he wasn’t betraying her in the worst way. Easier to ignore it when he couldn’t see her face.

“I’ll text you my address,” Riley said eventually. He hung up before Dawson could answer him.

Dawson closed his eyes, the squeezing in his chest easing enough that he could breathe. He shoved some clothes into a backpack along with some extra toiletries.

“Hey, there’s an emergency at work, so I need to head off—I don’t know when I’ll be back.”Please don’t notice the bag.“Eat all the food for me, and I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay?” Sadie said warily. “Tell Eli we said hi!”

Dawson nodded, feeling like the biggest ass.

It didn’t stop him from leaving.

Chapter 10

The second Riley openedthe door to his apartment, Dawson surged forward, finding his lips in a desperate, needy kiss. He took no notice of anything else in the place as he kicked the door shut behind himself. Riley shoved him against it, taking over like he always did. Dawson moaned and grappled at him, needing all of it.

Riley kissed down his throat, and Dawson threaded his fingers through Riley’s thick hair, holding him in place. They parted only long enough for Riley to lift Dawson’s shirt over his head, and then their mouths met again, like two magnets unable to resist the pull. They tugged at belts and pants and underwear until they were naked and stumbling towards what Dawson hoped was either a couch or a bed. Honestly, he wouldn’t even protest if Riley took him to the floor. Any surface worked. He didn’t care as long as it meant keeping hold of this man.

“Gideon is on his way,” Riley whispered hoarsely. He pushed Dawson onto the couch and followed him down, his weight against Dawson, their cocks sliding together.

Fuck, that couldn’t be any more perfect.“How—when—” Dawson couldn’t get full sentences out. He wanted them both in this room, right fucking now.

“I think we should get you all slicked up and ready for him by the time he gets here,” Riley said, a hand slipping between Dawson’s legs to stroke at his hole.

Dawson clenched in response, the words a visceral stroke against his dick.

Best plan ever. “You don’t—you—” He gasped, tipping his head back as Riley marked up his skin. “Your position—you don’t—” He squirmed under Riley, lifting his hips and begging for more.

“Bottom?” Riley asked. “No, I don’t. Stay there.”

Dawson lay there, breathing harshly as Riley left. He gave himself a second to look around and get his bearings; he’d noticed exactly zero from the moment he’d been in there. Riley lived in a studio apartment, his kitchen, living room, and bedroom all in one area, though quite spacious. He couldn’t see the bed since a long bookcase and a single step up separated the two areas and gave some semblance of privacy. It was all black marble countertops in the kitchen, sleek and modern. Everything neat and tidy, nothing out of place.

Sparse, yet warm. A perfect representation of Riley himself.

When Riley returned with lube and condoms from what had to be the bathroom, Dawson dropped a leg off the side of the couch to give Riley room to settle against his hips.

They got distracted, kissing again, Riley pulling Dawson up into a half-sitting position as he mapped out his mouth and drove all thoughts from Dawson’s mind. This is what he’d needed. What he’d come here for. He’d known Riley would make it better and calm all the turmoil.

Riley coaxed him to lie back down, and Dawson took them both, unwilling to let go just yet.

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