Page 10 of Disorderly

Not wanting to disappoint him like I’d done to the others closest to me, I ripped open the condom package. Needing a second hand, I pulled my fingers from him. He whimpered and I felt like I stood at the top of the world. So rarely did I get this response from him. “Shh,” I soothed him. “Just let me get the condom on.”

He stiffened and I bit back a curse even as I slid the condom on. Fuck. Did he not know what happened? I ran my fingers down his back, easing the stiffness from him while slathering on some lube with the other hand. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew. We’ll talk after.”

“It’s okay. It’s why we have the rules and you’re being safe.”

I dropped a kiss on the back of his neck as the head of my cock pressed against him. Using my tongue, I traced the line of muscle to his shoulder as I pressed in. “Fuck. You’re so tight. You’re strangling me.”

“Fuck me.”

“Oh, I will.” And I did. Our skin slapped against each other. The noise and the moans drowning out the sound of the shower.

“Harder. Faster,” he begged.

And I responded, allowing him that measure of control. But to prove I had the ultimate control, I yanked his hair, pulling his face around to meet mine. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.” I slammed my mouth against his as my hips pistoned, bringing me closer to the edge. “Stroke your cock. Take your pleasure as I take mine.”

“Fuck.”

His back muscles rippled under me as he stroked himself. My ache ramped up. Between the feel of him and his willingness to submit to me had me biting my lip to keep from exploding. I didn’t want it to end. Not this soon. Not when I felt so connected to him, felt grounded like I hadn’t for the past week plus. With him standing beside me, I could change. I could be better. Be who Jason deserved. Who Jarrod deserved. And even Katy. I’d be better for her. She wouldn’t ever be mine, but I’d be hers even if she never knew.

Unable to hold out any longer and needing him to come with me, I shifted my hand from his hip to his balls, rolling and squeezing them, until I knew from the hitch in his breathing that his need matched mine. I gave them another squeeze as I pushed myself deeper. He clenched around me, forcing my climax as heard his own.

Our kisses became sloppy as we struggled to control our breathing and slow our hearts. As much as I wanted to stay in him, to feel that tangible connection, I pulled out, needing to deal with the condom. He stared into my eyes and what I saw there had the words, I love you, on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say them. Not yet. Not when we needed to talk about what I’d done.

But soon… maybe.

Chapter Seven

Jarrod

The towel rubbedagainst my sensitive nipples as I dried off my chest. Since I’d already showered, I left Peter to finish cleaning under the rainfall shower head. I reached into the large open shower and pressed a button, turning on the side body sprays. Anything to make his clean up time faster.

With my body dry, I spread my towel over the heated towel rack to dry it. In the morning I’d throw it into the laundry bin. I hated the smell of musty towels and I’d learned over the years not to put my damp towel in the bin if I wasn’t going to be doing the wash within twenty-four hours. Any longer than that and the towel would smell before being washed. Yuck.

I reached for two new towels from the open shelving. One I unfolded and then refolded into thirds, lengthwise before hanging it on the rack. On the ends were even I placed the other towel on Peter’s hook by the shower. “I pulled out a towel for you. Just grabbing us some drinks and snacks.”

He grunted which I assumed was his agreement. I waited for more—he always told me what snack he wanted, never trusting me to pick out something he’d like—but after a minute or two of silence, I left. Were we at a new stage where he trusted me with his evening snack after nearly ten years? I could only hope. I may have been considered anal and controlling about things, but when it came to snacks, Peter outshone me. Regular meals were fine, he’d eat whatever I’d made when it was my turn to cook, but snacks… they were completely his domain. Even at the parties we hosted, he always had final say on the menu for the items we provided. The only exception to that was Katy. If she brought over baking, he’d eat it. But then we all did. We really were wrapped around her small fingers in most aspects.

“Fuck. It starts already.” I hung my head as I stared at the clothes Peter had worn earlier. The clothes that littered the floor and even the top of the console table. There’d be no way I could sleep tonight knowing his clothes were everywhere. He hadn’t even bothered to put away his suitcase or briefcase. At least the sex high kept me from racing back into the bathroom to lecture him. Even though I really wanted to. If I gave him an inch, I knew he’d push for more. But being the nice guy I was—and probably a result of the great sex—I picked up his clothes, grabbed his suitcase, and brought them all to the laundry room. Knowing him, his suitcase was filled with dirty clothes so it would be easier for him just to empty it there. Then I went back and grabbed his briefcase, taking it to his office in his old bedroom. With that done, I headed to the kitchen where my good mood returned when I remembered that he was allowing me to pick his snack.

Instead of just grabbing what I wanted, I took a few extra seconds to weigh my options while looking at the full shelf in the pantry. Did I go with his favourite trail mix—a mixture that Katy created for him when he went off to university—or did I go with his favourite chips? Both were the main things he tended to eat before bed, especially after sex whereas I tended to gravitate to chocolate. In the end, I grabbed the container of trail mix since it contained items we both loved. And, as a bonus, if we emptied the container, maybe we wouldn’t have to wait too long for Katy to refill it since she wouldn’t allow us to make it ourselves.

I expected to find him in bed when I walked through the door of our room, but the bed remained empty and untouched. The sound of the shower continued to fill the air, surprising me. While a long shower wasn’t uncommon with us, it was when there was only one of us in it. It concerned me.

There had been times in our past where Peter took control between us, but that usually occurred on round two or three since he knew about my need. To take control immediately, to dominate me and make the decisions like that… it was pretty much unheard of. And as much as his actions surprised and worried me, the fact that I enjoyed it, willingly went along without protesting floored me. Was I changing? Or had I intuitively known that he needed that measure of dominance for himself? Was that why I gave in? Did I recognize something within him? Was he spinning out of control?

The questions continued to pile up. And the longer he took in the bathroom, the more my skin itched, needing to find something to straighten, to clean, to put it back in its place. Anything to regain the control I was losing in my mind.

The edge of the blanket was in my hand, ready to be ripped off when the door to the bathroom opened and Peter stepped out. His eyes downcast, staring at the floor as he moved stiff-limbed deeper into our room.

“Peter, what’s up?” As much as didn’t want to force him to talk and to come to me on his own, I couldn’t hold back my question. If I did, I doubted I would have slept tonight as my brain wouldn’t have settled enough to allow me to.

“I, uh…” In an uncharacteristic display, Peter adjusted some of the small dishes for our watches, keys, and other small items that we had on the top of the dresser. The three—one for each of us—had been evenly spaced in a row. Their leaf shapes all laid out, so their main tip faced into the room. But as I watched, he twisted the closest one—his—until the point was angled towards the one in the middle—Jason’s. He also pushed it back a little, brushing it against the potted plant at the corner.

My leg bounced against the mattresses as I sat up in bed, adjusting the pillows behind me as I waited for him to continue. I could give him that. It would continue to drive me nuts, but I could control it for a bit to allow him to explain things to me.

Instead of continuing, he walked to the other end of the dresser and moved my dish to mirror his, making it so that they both pointed to Jason’s, making it the prominent one. Was he trying to tell me something with his actions? Was he saying that Jason was the centre of our… whatever this was between the three of us? I’d call it a relationship, but that didn’t seem to fit. Or maybe it did.

At the beginning, when it became more than just Peter and I fooling around when we needed to get off and there weren’t any willing females around, that’s all it had been, something casual, a way to let of some steam. Then, towards the end of summer, before second year, I happened to catch him and Jason together. They’d been so H.O.T. hot to watch. Between Jason’s muscular body and his tattoos, I’d already been in lust for him. But seeing him naked, watching his cock slide into Peter’s tight ass, I couldn’t help myself. I pulled out my rock-hard dick, stroking it in time with the thrust of Jason’s hips, content to watch them. I must have made a noise, not stifled a moan, because Jason twisted his head and stared at me straight in the eyes before dropping his gaze to see how my cock wept. He bit his lower lip before releasing one hand from Peter’s hip and motioning me to come to them.

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