Page 122 of Reactant

“And now for Wills,” Quinn said with amusement.

“Plural,” Will said, nodding.

“Will is the equivalent of four people,” Peyton said sleepily.

Will tipped the packet of Jumpy’s up and emptied the rest of it into his mouth before leaning over Sebastian and putting it on the bedside table. He settled down into the bed, sliding his long legs under the sheets until his feet were right at the bottom, and then twined himself around Peyton, his back lined up with Sebastian’s side.

Jericho stayed standing awkwardly in the doorway. One foot in the room, the other in the hall. There was a cruel irony in there somewhere.

Sebastian and Quinn were both watching him, with expectations that Jericho had spent half his life avoiding.

It had been less than a week since they’d all crashed into his perfectly assembled life.

They knew who he was. They knew what he did. And they were still inviting him to sleep beside them.

Quinn lifted the sheet, patiently waiting.

Jericho hooked his fingers in his black pyjama pants and slowly pushed them down until he was standing in nothing but his black briefs. Quinn licked his lips as he looked him up and down.

Jericho was mesmerised by his lips. “I want that kiss,” he said in a low voice before he could catch himself.

“What are you waiting for?”

The world to go out from under his feet. For someone to jump up and tell him to stop or forever hold his peace. For some semblance of sense to reassert itself.

It took four steps to get to the side of the bed. Not nearly long enough for his heart to settle back into some kind of regular pattern.

He put a knee on the bed and then paused, Quinn’s chest coming into view. “You’re inked,” he said thickly.Holy fucking shit.That had not been what he’d been expecting. How had he not seen this before? Why did Quinn hide this beneath clothes?

Jericho traced the large black-and-white owl and across the spread wings that spanned his chest. He looped across the roses and intricate, swirling stems. “It’s not finished,” he said. He thumbed the lower section, where the owl’s talons curved, Quinn’s warm skin quivering under his touch. “The shading here isn’t done.” The roses weren’t done; no artist worth their salt would have left one single rose to be different from the rest. Not unless it was deliberate. “Why?”

“Completing it meant it was done.”

“That’s the point of finishing things,” Jericho murmured, still outlining the magnificent creature.

“Being done meant letting go.”

Jericho met his liquid grey eyes. There was so much history there. With Sebastian. And Peyton. And to a lesser extent, Will. They were all intertwined. They had something special together. Why would they want that with him as well? Jericho knew he was hot, knew that he could show them a good time. Knew he had something to bring to the table. He wasn’t unsure, or insecure about who he was as a person.

They simply already had each other.

Quinn slid his hand around Jericho’s thigh and encouraged him to lie down. Jericho shouldn’t have let the touch guide him, but he did.

He settled back against the pillow, not sure if he could ever remember feeling quite so awkward in his life. Quinn propped himself up on one elbow and brushed his knuckles across Jericho’s chest.

Jericho sucked in a breath as Quinn leaned forward, and their breath mingled.

“I want that kiss too, Jericho,” Quinn whispered.

Fucking hell.

Jericho wanted this more than he should. What had they done to him?

He didn’t know who moved first. It didn’t matter. Quinn’s lips were warm against his, hands hot against his cheeks, the scent of him all around them. Jericho’s eyes closed as he opened his mouth and pulled Quinn closer until half his weight was on Jericho.

Quinn slid a hand into his hair, tightening just enough to send a shiver across Jericho’s skin. Quinn’s back was warm beneath his fingertips as he pressed into hard muscle. He tilted his chin, giving Quinn more room.

Jericho tried to shut out the feeling of everything settling into place as Quinn consumed him, but it was impossible. Quinn kissed him like it was something more than physical. He met Jericho’s harsh strokes with soft, slow ones, gentling him at each turn and twisting it into something that had his heart pounding. He had fuckingbutterflieswhile Quinn was sweetly tearing him apart from the inside.

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