Page 88 of The Contract

The awful sense that there’s another man’s hand on my cock fades within the knowledge that it’s Tristan’s hand. I lost some of my erection at the initial touch, but Tristan’s quiet acceptance gives me time to adjust. He doesn’t squeeze. He lets me control the pressure. He lets me start to move his hand up and down my stiff shaft.

It starts to feel good. Really good.

I don’t know how Tristan feels about it, however, until he cuddles into me, tucking his face against my throat and sighing in pleasure as I press his fingers into my balls. It makes me gasp and dig my teeth into his scalp. I moan as I press harder and harder, loving the bite of pain.

Someday, I want to be able to have him tug and pinch and twist me.

I drag his hand back up my length and press the palm of his hand against my leaking tip. He kisses my throat and murmurs against me, “Fuck me with this thing. Please.”

I groan and reach for the lube.

THIRTY

Tristan

Sunlight bleeds through my closed eyelids. It’s so quiet up here and the lounge chair is so comfortable that I’m half dozing when I hear the sliding glass door open and close.

I open my eyes and roll my head to the side as Dante walks across the patio in nothing but his black warmups, carrying two steaming mugs.

He’s the most goddamn beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He is a bit beat to shit though. His bruises from the night he got the concussion are fading, but there’s still a bandage on his abdomen and one wrapping his forearm. That one was me, of course. The cut on his neck is the newest, but it’s minor. It might not have been though, if he weren’t so damn dangerous.

But he’s like a fucking commando.

“Thanks,” I say as Dante hands me one of the mugs. My eyebrows jump as I taste it. “Wow. You got it right.”

A pleased little smile tugs at his mouth as he settles in the chair next to mine. For a while we’re silent, and I just soak the moment in. I love it. I guess this kind of thing is normal for most people, but I don’t think I’ve ever sat on a patio and drunk coffee with anyone.

And it’s a hell of a nice patio. Broad and clean, with glass paneling at the edge so the city view isn’t blocked by a railing.

I have been on the patio before. I came against that glass. But I’ve never sat here like this. I’ve never been in the hot tub either, which is out of sight where the patio wraps around the corner. He’s so damn rich. And gorgeous.

It makes me think of another rich, gorgeous man. I don’t want to think about Rafael, but something is preying on my mind.

I decide to say it.

“I think Rafael is in love with you.”

Dante snorts. “Don’t mistake his hard-on for love.” He adds wryly, “Though you wouldn’t be the first one.”

“You’re blind to it because of your history with him.”

Dante looks at me, serious now. “He’s not in love with me, Tristan. He’s … it’s difficult to explain.”

I wait while Dante works out what to say.

“He’s … sensitized to me. Because of what we’ve been through together. Because of what we know about each other. Does it bother you?”

“It did at first. But I’m … I’m working on it.”

“You liked that he saw me fucking you.”

I hesitate then admit, “Yeah. I wanted him to see that you were with me.”

“Iamwith you.”

“With no contract,” I point out.

“Do you want one?”

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