38. Matthias

38

MATTHIAS

C iaran was silent on the trip back home. Nerves? Second thoughts? Did he have regrets?

The dimly lit path smelled of kicked-up dust, wildflowers, and the sharp odor of wild succulent plants. As we passed behind certain estates, I'd smell cigar smoke or fresh bread. Some houses had a baker on hand to bake goods for the next day.

I stole a few glances at Ciaran. Thankfully, he continued to hold my hand, even though we were no longer climbing.

I should come clean to him about everything that happened tonight, but I didn't know where to start. Stories always had a messy beginning and like most things in life, I'd inherited one problem while the other was one of my own making.

In addition to that, I could sense that Ciaran couldn't put his finger on my relationship with Filipe and Joan. They were, for all intents and purposes, my rock. They'd been there for me for everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Did I love them? Yes. But it wasn't exactly romantic love. Yes, my feelings could get tangled up when I was lonely or sad. They accepted me, no questions asked. Sometimes when Filipe hugged me, or when Joan kissed me, I didn't want to let go. They were intuitive enough to know when I needed more.

And sometimes, I needed to take more of what they offered. Joan and Filipe had affection in spades and loved sharing it with me. Being a Vaulteneau meant I didn't always know who I could trust. Who was in my life due to my family's wealth, versus those who wanted to get to know the real me?

That's why people like Joan, Filipe, and Franky were worth their weight in gold.

It occurred to me then that Ciaran was quickly becoming a member of that elite group of people for me.

Even if I never touched him again…even if my lips never pressed against his from this point forward, I knew, deep in my gut, that Ciaran Galbraith was someone I could trust. But by revealing my secrets, I opened up Pandora's box. I might trust him, but would he trust me after he knew the truth?

I couldn't risk it.

I couldn't risk losing him just as soon as he came into my life.

It was selfish of me. But on a night like tonight, when we were walking in silence after lying on the beach and inspecting the stars together, I wanted the fantasy in my head to stretch out for a little while longer.

My brain argued with me: Ciaran didn't reject you after learning about the penis-coke-snorting incident. He'd understand, and might even approve of, your LAX operation .

Yeah right , I answered back internally. An operation that could get any of us arrested by the authorities while also getting us killed by heavy hitters in the criminal underworld.

How might that conversation go? I like you, Ciaran, but your association with me tonight could get you arrested or killed. Still want to be my boyfriend?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear Ciaran talking. We'd come to the Vaulteneau pedestrian gate and I entered the code. The gate swung open with nary a sound.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, jerking my head to look at him. I made sure the gate locked behind us before I added, "I was lost in my thoughts."

"I could tell," Ciaran said. I could hear the smile in his voice. He gently squeezed my hand before letting go. "I said, ‘Penny for your thoughts.'"

The jangle of keys offered a metallic tinkle of music as Ciaran pulled the key ring from his front pocket. We stepped around the messy yard. I mentally added up everything we'd need to clean.

Bedroom closet.

Pool area.

The backyard.

And probably the guesthouse kitchen.

It was too dark to do anything about the outside mess, so we'd tackle that in the morning.

The main house was dark except for the patio porch light, which stayed on if in the event we ever needed to enter the main house at night. Through one of the windows, I could see the gentle glow of the large fish tank.

"I was thinking about everything that needed to be cleaned," I answered half-truthfully.

Ciaran just stared at me as he unlocked the front door to the guesthouse. I was so sure he could tell I wasn't telling him everything.

Once inside, he closed the door. Two seconds later, the bolt slid into place with a definitive thunk .

My heart thudded in response and it felt like my lungs didn't know how to operate.

Silence greeted us. We had the house to ourselves and it was like the universe held its breath while we figured out how we were going spend the rest of the night.

In the dark, Ciaran said, "Listen, I know I don't know everything about you, but even I know that cleaning up the yard wouldn't weigh heavily on your mind, not after everything we did tonight. It's okay if you've changed your mind about us. I'll understand?—"

I didn't let him finish.

Stepping away from the door, I leaned in and pressed my lips to Ciaran's. His exhale of breath told me I'd relieved his source of anxiety. When his arms went around my neck, pulling me into him, I deepened the kiss. My tongue touched his and the fire in my belly reignited.

Growling into his mouth, all I wanted to do was pick him up and carry him upstairs.

Ciaran broke the kiss. "Okay, so you're not second-guessing this." He motioned between us.

"No, not for a second," I said.

"It's just that, well…" He hesitated. "I don't have a lot of experience here. Plus, you have a deep history with Joan and Filipe that I'm trying to catch up on, and I guess I'm feeling a bit insecure."

His honesty was refreshing. I was so used to people lying or masking their true feelings that I didn't really know how to respond. Hell, I was so used to lying and masking my feelings that I was in complete awe of his willingness to be vulnerable.

That also meant he was trusting me with his feelings, his emotions.

I ran a hand through my hair.

The problem with that was I didn't deserve such trust.

I was certain I was going to fuck up everything.

"Joan and Filipe are my best friends," I admitted. We were still standing in the dark, feet away from the staircase that would bring us upstairs to our bedrooms. I'd let Ciaran lead. For as long as he stood down here, I would, too. I think it was easier for him to ask the tough questions in the dark. "In full disclosure, we've been intimate—me, Joan, and Filipe, the three of us together. It's been awhile, though."

Ciaran was silent for a such long moment that I wondered if I hadn't already fucked things up.

"I like you, Matty. A lot. But I'm not interested in that kind of relationship. I'm not telling you what to do, because you are free to be with who makes you happy. However, if you plan to continue a sexual relationship with Joan and Filipe, then I have to bow out now, before things get even more complicated."

His enunciation of the term "sexual relationship" was key here. He wasn't asking me to break off my friendship. No, Ciaran was listing his boundaries. He would not enter into a romantic relationship with me if I planned to be intimate with Joan and Filipe.

"That's fair, Ciaran," I said. "And I agree. They are my best friends, but if you and I are together, then I'd have no reason to go to bed with them. And," I added as an afterthought, " we wouldn't join them in any sexual activity, either."

"So," Ciaran said, swallowing, "just the two of us? I'm not competing with Joan, Filipe, or Zoey?"

"Just the two of us." My hand reached out to cup Ciaran's cheek. It was warm and scruffy. I was desperate to have it scratch my face when I kissed him. "Exclusive."

I'd never said that to anyone before. I was so used to falling into bed with someone and never once discussing what it might look like later on. That said, most of the time when I went to bed with someone, it was a quick fling.

Everything with Ciaran was different.

Ciaran took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. "Okay. Let's go upstairs."

I was short of breath with each step I climbed. Stairs be damned, I wanted to tackle Ciaran right then and there. I couldn't wait to touch him.

Slow down, buddy , I reminded myself. My stiff cock didn't get the message in time. It was straining painfully against the fabric of my blue jeans.

Ciaran stopped at my bedroom door, flicked on the light, and peered inside. It was a complete mess. I'd forgotten how much of the clothing and accessories had spilled out into the main bedroom from the wreck of a closet.

"Whoa," he said. "It's worse than I remember."

Several of the rods were completely ripped from the wall, with heaps of designer clothing shamefully lumped in piles on the floor. It'd take an actual handyman to fix the broken rods, and a wizard with wrinkled fabric to restore my suits.

Honestly, I didn't care.

I remembered the way Ciaran pushed me against the wall and kissed me. His passion was off the charts.

"Yeah, no kidding," I agreed. "We'll figure it out tomorrow." I wanted to ask him to go to bed with me, but I was uncharacteristically nervous. "We should get some sleep," I said instead. That might prompt the next set of questions I desperately wanted to talk about without pushing the topic.

"Your room or mine?" Ciaran asked like it was no big deal. One of his eyebrows lifted and his lips spread into a shy grin.

My heart lurched into my throat. Ciaran was going to kill me. It was now a proven fact.

"Yours," I said, my voice thick. "We're less likely to trip over something in the middle of the night going to the bathroom."

Ciaran's grin spread. "That's your reasoning?"

"It's the one I'm going with," I said with a laugh. I switched off the light to my bedroom as we went to Ciaran's bedroom.

He wasn't lying when he said it was like a hotel room. When it was Dante's bedroom, my brother put his unique style on the room. After Miss Paulina converted it to a guest bedroom, it was devoid of almost any character. We left the lights off as we stepped out of our clothes. My eyes tracked his silhouette in the darkness. The curtains were not drawn, so moonlight spilled into the room.

From the bed, Ciaran said, "Leave your boxers on."

I took in his strong, naked chest. My fingers itched to explore every inch of skin that he'd allow. My gaze dipped to the blond shadow of hair above the waistband of his boxer briefs.

I licked my lips involuntarily. I wanted to unwrap him like a present and then suck him until he came in my mouth.

I didn't know how any of this was going to work because how on earth were we going to keep it reined in? The second I touched him, I might go feral. I'd already gotten a sense of Ciaran's passionate side. Did he think he could abstain? He was playing with fire.

I'd be the strong one, I decided. I had to be. I cleared my throat. "Okay."

Ciaran lifted back the duvet and slid into the bed, leaving room for me to climb in beside him. It was an out-of-body feeling when I got into position. We were both lying on our backs, looking toward the ceiling. I focused on my breathing, counting to ten, then twenty.

When his pinky touched mine, I very nearly climaxed in my boxers. Anticipation would be my undoing.

He then reached over and pressed his palm to my stomach. I hissed through clenched teeth.

No words were exchanged when his hand skimmed across my stomach, chest, and shoulders. My shivering and sudden inhalation of air conveyed more than words could ever say.

Ciaran's finger teased near my waistband and I couldn't withhold the moan that escaped my lips. My blood was boiling over and my hips instinctively pulsed upward.

There was no hiding the tent in my boxers. My cock and balls ached to be touched. Even a brisk breeze could set me off. My hands dug into the mattress to keep from touching him.

Ciaran shifted to his side and propped himself up on an elbow. Facing me, he threw a leg over mine, and just like that, his erection was pressing against my outer thigh.

"I like this spot," he said as he threaded his fingers through the hair just above my boxers. "It's soft."

"Ciaran," I croaked. My entire body was as tense as a volcano ready to erupt. "I'm not strong enough to remain passive. I am either going to attack you or jerk off in front of you. Either way, put me out of my misery, I'm begging you."

A smile played at his lips. "I wondered how long you could lay there motionless before snapping."

"You little fucker," I growled as I pulled him atop me.

Ciaran chuckled and my heart pinched. I spread my legs to make room for him and was rewarded when his throbbing cock pressed against the sensitive spot between my cock and balls.

Perhaps it was a good thing the lube and condoms were in my bedroom. It'd keep us from doing more than Ciaran was comfortable with.

Feeling his weight and bare chest on me was heavenly. His mouth was hot and wet when it closed over mine, and I moaned into his lips.

Rocking into me experimentally, Ciaran kept a brisk thrusting pace as his hips ground into me. The friction heightened the sensation and the little whimpers he let out were going to be my undoing. If we kept this up, yes, it would rub my dick raw as hell, but I sure as hell would come, too.

My hands roamed his muscular back, down to his firm ass. My fingers wanted to reach beneath the boxers, to explore his crease. Instead, I cupped his ass, pulling him closer as his mouth explored mine.

Ciaran was not a quiet lover, which intensified everything. His moans were little erotic bursts that made me as hard as a rock. Our coupling was starting to become frantic and feverish, like we were close to crossing a dangerous line in the sand.

If we didn't slow down?—

When Ciaran shifted lower to lick my neck, his finger grazed my nipple, causing all reasonable thought to flee. I hissed out in pleasure.

"God, baby," I moaned, not even caring if he left marks on me. "You feel amazing against me. I want to touch all of you."

His hands were in my hair, but sometimes he'd reach down to hook his hand behind my knee, as if to open me up to fuck me. Just imagining his cock sliding into me put me close to the edge. I rarely let anyone top me, but I was willing to do anything Ciaran wanted. I knew he didn't have experience, so instinct must be taking over.

Which meant we needed to slow down. We were quickly violating Ciaran's nothing below the waist rule. Truth was I didn't want to rush things either.

My breath hitched in the back of my throat. "If we keep going, Ciaran, I am going to come against you. If that happens, then I'm going to put my mouth on you to make you come. In the moment, it will feel good, but I don't want you to regret it come tomorrow."

My ability to harness willpower in that moment was so Herculean an effort that I wanted it engraved on my tombstone.

Ciaran slowed his movements as he digested my words.

His expression was one of bliss. He was clearly lost in the moment and attempting to come back from the brink of sexual insanity. By degrees, Ciaran collapsed on me, breathing heavy against my neck.

"You're right. Thank you, Matty."

I rubbed calming circles on his lower back as he came back to his senses.

When I first met Ciaran, I told myself to keep my distance. It was clear I was going to have to resurrect that edict, at least partially, to keep us from going over the edge.