Chapter 5

Bryce woke later that afternoon, his mouth dry and his head throbbing. He'd only had two Bloody Marys. They wouldn't have fazed him a year ago, but he'd been concerned by how much he was drinking to dull his senses in the months after the Atlanta fire, so he cut back drastically to prove to himself that he didn't need it.

He squinted at the clock as he forced himself out of bed. It was five, so he'd been asleep about six hours. He'd slept through his alarm, but at least he wasn't late for work, and he ought to be plenty awake for his shift at the bar that night.

As he showered, he tried not to replay the conversation he'd had with Matt and Toby or to contemplate how awkward things would be at work later that week. He couldn't help but be curious about their relationship. Matt didn't seem to be as comfortable about pursuing him as Toby was, but Toby had been offering a three-way, hadn't he?

Bryce had always preferred to focus all his energy on one man, on making him beg, on telling him what to do to make them both lose their minds, but Matt and Toby were making him rethink that. He had no doubt that having them both would be mind-blowing.

Damn, it had been too long since he'd been laid. Maybe tonight after Nathan's he'd go looking for a quick fuck.

The evening went by swiftly. The bar was crowded, first with people watching baseball, then with those who stayed or came for post-game celebratory drinking or commiserative drinking or just plain drinking drinking. Around eleven, the later-night crowd poured in. By one AM, Bryce was exhausted despite his long nap. Mason's boyfriends, Gray and Jack, had found seats at the bar. Mason stopped to chat with them and take their drink orders. Bryce caught them glancing over at him. What had Mason said? Hopefully not anything about Toby and Matt.

At least if Gray thought Bryce had his eye on someone other than Mason, he might stop acting like such an asshole, though Mason said that overprotective attitude was just Gray being Gray, as if it were endearing. He'd told Bryce he was a lot like Gray himself. No way was he that grumpy. At least he didn't use to be.

Gray had to know Bryce's flirting with Mason was just in fun. Bryce didn't really do any serious flirting these days. Mason was safe, easygoing, and so taken that Bryce could be his old self, knowing there wouldn't be any unwelcome consequences, like actually having to make an effort with someone. He scowled as he carried a tray of dirty glasses to the kitchen. He really needed to get laid.

Yeah, by Toby and Matt.

That is the last thing I need. A bunch of fucking complications.

Are you so sure it would be complicated?

We work together.

If a conscience could shrug, his did. There are other arrangements that could be made. You saw that position they posted for the fire marshal's office.

He scowled. He'd been thinking about applying for an investigator position with the fire marshal in Atlanta, but after the fire that rocked his sanity, he'd gone into survival mode. He didn't need to go trying to change jobs when he hadn't even been in this one a year yet. He stomped back into the bar, not realizing how fierce he looked until he glanced at a customer and she flinched.

"Sorry. I was just… thinking about something." He really didn't want to piss off any customers at Nathan's. He'd fallen into this job when he discovered the place shortly after moving to Durham. He'd struck up a conversation with Mason and mentioned that he was looking to pick up some bartending shifts. Mason sent him right to the office to interview with Elizabeth, the manager, and he was hired the next day.

The woman smiled. "That's okay. You must have been thinking of something pretty awful."

He nodded. "Yeah, I was. What can I get you?"

"Absolut and lemonade."

"You got it." He made her drink and handed it across the bar. "On the house."

She frowned. "Oh, you don't?—"

"I do."

"Well, okay. I don't suppose it could come with your number."

Dammit. Now he was being too nice. "I'm honored, but—" Mason slapped him on the ass as he walked by, obviously having picked up on the situation. He gestured over his shoulder toward Mason. "He's more my type," he said.

"Ah." She smiled, not looking at all hurt, thank goodness. "Thanks for the drink."

"You're quite welcome." Bryce smiled back at her. Why was it he could flirt with female customers and guys who were taken, but not with guys he actually wanted? Ridiculous. He had to get back out there.

He glanced down the bar and saw Jack watching him and snickering. "Bastard," he mouthed.

Jack flipped him off and Gray actually smiled. Mason probably had said something or else Gray'd had enough beers to make him jovial.

An hour later, Jack and Gray were still hanging around, waiting for him and Mason to finish cleaning up after they'd shooed the last customer out.

"So Mason tells us those hot boys have been after you to go dancing," Jack said.

He snorted. "Boys? It's not like you're that much older."

Jack scowled in mock offense. "They're practically children. I'm a seasoned cop."

Gray snorted and Jack shoved at his shoulder, but the big man didn't even budge. It was good to see them joking around so easily. Jack had been shot at a crime scene several months ago, and his recovery, mental and physical had been rocky. But now he was working with a youth task force, and Gray was settling into his position as a vice detective.

"You both ready to get out of here?" Gray asked Mason, a sultry smile on his face.

"Soon," Mason promised. He leaned over, kissed Gray and held on to him, turning it into more than just a peck.

Bryce couldn't help but watch. Jack pulled Mason away from Gray so he could get in on the action. They were a fine-looking trio, and Bryce's cock couldn't help but respond to the stimulation.

Gray caught Bryce watching, but instead of looking annoyed, he just smiled. "You going to put those boys out of their misery?"

"They don't look miserable to me."

"Ha! They look like sad little puppies trailing after you," Jack said.

Bryce shook his head. "I'm sure they can find someone to satisfy them or just take care of each other."

Mason gave Bryce a look that said he pitied him for being so stupid. "They need a man who will take charge, especially the blond one."

A shudder ran through Bryce. That's exactly what he wanted to give them. "I don't?—"

"Come on," Jack said. "You know exactly what we mean."

Gray actually fucking grinned. "It might even be worth the trouble they'll cause you."

That earned him another shove from Jack and an obviously manufactured look of outrage from Mason.

"Look, they're hot, okay? But as much as I'd like to bend them over right here on the bar, I work with them, and I've only been here a few months. I'm not going to screw up my chance at a fresh start."

Gray nodded, serious now. "Yeah, I get that."

"Me too," Jack agreed. "I could never have resisted Gray, but working together made it tough. I loved being his partner on the job, but being out is even better."

Bryce wasn't sure how to respond. These men had found a solution, but their position hadn't been the same as his. He changed the subject like the coward he was. "Y'all get out of here, and I'll finish up."

"You sure?" Mason asked.

"Shut up and get moving," Gray said, his words running over Mason's.

Bryce didn't have much left to do after he sent the three men on their way. A few minutes later, he let the manager know the bar was all set for the next day and grabbed his bag. It was two thirty now. All the clubs would be closed. There were a few guys he'd hooked up with when he first came to town. He had one of their numbers, but a random wee hours booty call smacked of desperation and they were probably either with someone or not interested. And Rollo, the beagle he'd rescued from a fire a few months back, would be a lot happier if he came straight home.

When he got home, knowing he wasn't going to fall asleep any time soon, he changed into pajama bottoms, made himself a bowl of ice cream, and flopped down on the couch. Rollo jumped up and sat beside him, begging for a taste. Bryce let him lick some ice cream off his fingers. "You're so damn spoiled."

Rollo gave him that look that said, "Yep. And I'm loving it."

Bryce scrolled through channels, but nothing struck his fancy until, on his second pass, he paused at an episode of some show he'd never seen and couldn't stop watching, because some guy named Stiles had eyes and a smile just like Matt's. At a commercial break, he discovered, embarrassingly, that he was watching Teen Wolf. God, he needed help.

But he didn't turn the channel and soon a fantasy rolled in his head. In his mind, he was the detective questioning the young man, and then he wasn't interested in talking anymore. He was interested in taking off Matt's clothes, slowly, while he ordered him to stand still. At that point Bryce clicked the TV off, pushed Rollo off the couch, and shoved his pajama bottoms down so he could wrap a hand around his dick.

Toby joined Matt in Bryce's fantasy, watching wide-eyed as Bryce bared Matt's ass. Matt's cock stood up and begged and Bryce sank to his knees, needing a taste. "Don't move," he ordered. Matt simply nodded.

Toby stepped closer. "Hold his hands behind his back," Bryce told him.

Toby obeyed wordlessly.

Bryce's hand worked faster on his cock as he let the fantasy roll. He shoved his other hand between his legs and toyed with his balls as in his mind, he took Matt's cock into his mouth, licking, sucking, teasing. Matt shuddered and bucked under his attentions, pushing his cock farther down Bryce's throat.

"Please," Matt begged.

"God, this is so fucking hot." Toby's words were breathless.

Bryce gripped Matt's hips, keeping them still as he took Matt even deeper.

Matt whimpered as he fought Bryce's hold. Toby ground his crotch against Matt's clasped hands, moaning as he worked himself.

Bryce let go of Matt's cock long enough to say "Toby, don't you dare come until I'm ready for you."

"Fuck!" The word was as much an exhale as real speech.

"Matt, I want to taste you right fucking now." Bryce swallowed him back down and let go of Matt's hips. Matt bucked against him, fucking his mouth.

Bryce shuddered, tugging hard on his balls as he stroked himself faster and faster. He was going to come any second.

In his fantasy, Matt cried out his orgasm just as heat slammed through Bryce, making him arch up off the couch. He shot over and over, coating his abdomen in sticky fluid. When he was done, he collapsed against the couch, wrung out.

"Fucking fuck shit fuck." That should not have happened.

As if you could have stopped it.

Damn, if real sex with Matt and Toby was anywhere near as good as his fantasy, it might kill him. At least then he wouldn't have to face the consequences.

He stumbled to the bathroom, cleaned up, and fell into bed, refusing to listen to that wicked voice telling him he was destined to fuck them for real.