Page 56 of Fire & Ice

Impatient for some reason, Marley raises her eyebrows and leans in. “Well?” she prompts. “Did you like my present?” Confused, Leander cocks his head to the side and shakes it slightly as if to say,I don’t know what you’re talking about.In response, Marley’s eyes fixate on something just over his shoulder, and she tips her chin at it. When he turns around to see what’s so interesting, Leander finds Suzy walking past. While he watches, the girl shoots Tripp a brief glance, her cheeks pinkening up as she drops her gaze to the floor and hurries by.

But she—oh.

Turning back to Marley, Leander doesn’t know whether to try and look appreciative, or skeptical, orwhat.Ultimately, he goes with the night’s theme and just laughs, truly shocked, which is not an emotion that Leander feels very frequently.

“Youdid that?” he remarks, leaning forward to clink his beer against Marley’s when she holds it out in a toast.

“Did what?” Ro chimes in, visibly confused, but neither Marley nor Leander answer, both waving her off withmutually conspiratorial giggles. Luckily, another couple of dancers wander by at that moment and stop to chat, sufficient distraction for the table. That includes Beau and Bri, who have finally surfaced for air. All of them slip into easy conversation, talking and laughing and passing bills, continuing to drink and dance and party until Bri finally falls asleep with her head on the table.

During that time, a number of Beau and Bri's co-workers stop by, many of whom Leander is also peripherally acquainted with, thanks to the ER overlap. That’s very pleasant, and he enjoys feeling like a part of the team. Even Christian and Brett seem to be on their best behavior tonight, or perhaps they’re simply occupied with harassing the dancers instead of Beau's other friends and family.

The only person associated with their group who is not having an easy, laid-back sort of evening isTripp,since Leander ensures there’s an attractive stripper in his lap for the entirety of the event. By the time his allotted money runs out and the last girl bails, Tripp is visibly struggling. He’s not only half-drunk, he’s clearly so aroused it must be painful. His hair is a mess and damp at the edges from sweat, his face is red and he’s damn near panting, crossing one leg over the other just as soon as there’s no one straddling them.

It surely has not helped that Leander’s been sitting close enough to touch, occasionally—alright, frequently—leaning in to whisper filth. Or that he’s been working the settings on the remote in his pocket like it’s personally offended him. It’s all beenveryentertaining, but Tripp is starting to look increasingly miserable by the minute, and Leander doesn’t want to push himtoofar.

The minute Tripp closes the space between their chairs, leaning over to brush lips across the shell of his ear in order to whisper, “Please, Sir,” Leander jumps into action.

At that point, it’s all too easy to excuse both himself and Tripp from the group, since Marley knows pretty much exactly what he’s been up to, and has already agreed to take them home. Leander owes her big, he really does. Like,riding in a four a.m. knee pain,big, but that’s a conversation for another day.

No one else seems to take particular notice of Tripp’s state. In all likelihood, they probably believe he’s simply drunk and horny, which is a pretty average state for a living, breathing man at a strip club bachelor party to be experiencing. The two of them walk out with arms around each other—necessary, due to Tripp’s wobbly legs—to a chorus of ‘thank you’s and ‘goodnight, be safe’ type-sentiments from their friends.

“Lee,” Tripp mumbles in his ear, sounding truly pitiful. “Lee, please don’t make me wait. I’ll do whatever you want, all night, I swear. Dude, ithurts.”He does his best to tug Leander towards the bathroom they visited earlier, but Leander is much more sober now (though not entirely), and has no problem resisting.

Steering them back into Marley’s wake as she heads for the exterior doors of the club, Leander smiles and tightens his grasp around Tripp’s waist. “You’re beingverygood for me, Tripp,” he reassures the man softly. “All this restraint, without so much as a cock ring to help you out. It’s very impressive. I’ll make you a deal, since you’ve endured so beautifully tonight, and it’s been a true pleasure to watch.”

Tripp’s long-suffering expression peers mournfully up from where he’s (somewhat dramatically) planted his face into the curve of Leander’s neck. Their walking suffers a bit for it, but Leander doesn’t mind. In his tipsy state, he can’t be bothered toworry about the way they’re blurring lines like crazy right now. HisfriendTripp Truett would never drunkenly wrap himself around Leander in public, would never be so blatantly needy and affectionate.

Thisisdangerous—this is notfriendbehavior, and it barely qualifies as part of their scene. It’s certainly notnecessary. And yet, Leander hasn’t the slightest inclination to put a stop to it.

As soon as they’re out of the club and into the frigid night air, Leander allows his reckless side to hijack the reins completely, at least for a minute.

“Whoa, holy shit,” Marley squeaks as Tripp gets slammed against the side of the building, Leander pushing both of his arms up next to his head and kissing him slow,deep. “Hey!” She protests, edging close enough to nudge Leander’s hip with the toe of her boot. “Hey!Yo, let’s get something straight. I love the two of you like the brothers I never wanted, and Itotallyship you as my O.T.P., but this?”

She circles a hand in their general direction as Leander breaks away from Tripp’s mouth, biting his own lip to see Tripp’s desperate, dazed eyes staring back and filled with want. His lips are shiny from Leander’s spit, and hewould,he absolutely would take himright hereand right now, if it were not for Marley hovering in the background.

“Thisis not something I ever want to see,” she continues as they resume their walk towards Tripp’s car. “Got it? And don’t eventhinkabout desecrating the back seat while I’m driving. I’m serious, Leander, I will put itching powder in your boots the next time we’re on duty together, I swear toGaia.”

“Of course,” Leander replies easily.

Clearly skeptical of his word, Marley makes him swear to God, Buddha, Scout’s honor, and General Leia Organa before she’ll let them in the car, never mind into the rear seat together. To be fair, Leander never had any intention of finishing off this night in the back seat of Tripp’s car—that would be terribly anti-climactic—so it’s an easy promise to both make and keep. It doesn’t stop him from running fingernails down the inside of Tripp’s thighs as they drive, though, or from pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of his neck.

“Hey,” Tripp says suddenly, just as they’re pulling into the building’s garage and Leander is finishing an Uber order for Marley on his phone. “You said you’d make me a deal. What was that about?” Not wanting to upset the friend doing them a favor with further sex talk, Leander glances up, ensuring that Marley is fully occupied in navigating the narrow path between parked cars to his apartment’s assigned space.

“Why don’t you guess?” he murmurs quietly. “What could I possibly be leaving up to you, at this point in time?”

Before Tripp can answer, Marley’s pulled in, shifted the car into park, and they’re all exiting, repeating the “thank you and goodnight” furious exchange of words and hugs previously shared with their other friends back at the club.

“I owe you,” Leander tells Marley, right before they part.

She waves cheerfully, pulling her earbuds out of her bag and inserting them before shrugging. “I’ll find a way for you to make it up to me,” she says with a wink. Another wave and then she’s gone, leaving Leander and Trippfinally, finally alone.

They don’t even make it all the way to the elevator before they’re pulling at clothing. By the time they’re tripping over each other’s feet struggling down the hallway that leads to Leander’s door, both of their pants are undone and Tripp’s shirt is off,hanging from his forearm. Thankfully, it’s the middle of the night and no one is out and about, so they make it inside the apartment without scarring any children, giving little old ladies heart attacks, or having the police called.

They lose the remainder of their clothing on the way to the playroom, save for Tripp’s panties—which, if Leander had his way, he would always have on—and somehow, Tripp ends up flat on his back on the hardwood floor. Unwilling to wait, Leander finds himself straddling Tripp and rutting their groins together.

While he knows that Tripp is in pain and on the edge, Leander can’t help but relish the way he hangs on for dear life. Tripp’s searching fingers slip from sweat as they scrape against the smooth floor, desperately seeking something to grab onto. His jaw is clenching and his head tosses restlessly from side to side, collar still beautifully bright against the pale skin of his wrist. Even the scars on his shoulder—that Tripp picked at incessantly while healing, working to ensure they’d stick around—in the shape of Leander’s handprint seem to stand out in stunning clarity tonight.

“What do youwant,Tripp?” Leander demands. “Tell me, I want to give it to you.”

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