Chapter Twelve

Lying awake in the guest room after we'd ordered pizza, I replayed every bit of the encounter in my mind. That had been one of the hottest things I'd ever done. Having my cocked sucked by another man was the least surprising thing about it, except I'd literally exploded and Gideon had swallowed every fucking drop.

I'd never felt more aroused, intrigued, and satisfied.

I had a queen bed to myself. After such a busy and intense day, I fell asleep in no time.

I jerked awake in the darkness. The digital clock on the dresser said it was one-twenty a.m. I rolled over and listened to the strange silence of a house I didn't know and tried to think of anything but what the three of us had gotten up to last night, because I didn't think it would put me to sleep this time. I tried to think of puppies and kittens, or lying under the moonlight in a sleeping bag, or even floating on an air mattress on the lake—all things that usually helped me to relax and drift off. None of it worked. Because Gideon and Vihaal kept appearing in my vignettes and I…missed them.

I got up and tiptoed down the hall, past their bedroom where all was silent but for someone's soft snoring. I went downstairs. There was a light on over the stove for which I was grateful. I got a glass of water and stood at the counter, taking sips and trying to decide what to do. My gaze locked on the sofa where everything had gone down before the pizza.

I had three choices.

I could write them a note and summon an Uber, so that I could sleep in my own bed, in my familiar house, which was kind of an appealing idea.

I could go back to the guest room and hope I didn't lie awake until dawn.

Or I could see if there was space in the king bed for one more person. It seemed strange to be apart from them, after we'd gotten so close. They'd invited me into their room for the night, but also made sure I knew that the guest room was mine if I wanted it.

At the time, it had seemed like the most sensible choice. Whatever was going on between the three of us seemed to be happening fast, and it had seemed sensible to slow things down. But now I wasn't so sure.

I heard the soft pad of footsteps and looked up.

"I thought I heard you down here," Gideon said, yawning and blinking in the faint light.

"I'm sorry. I tried to be quiet," I said. He looked adorable and sleep-mussed and younger than his twenty-six years in a pair of pink booty shorts and nothing else.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course. Just having trouble sleeping." I shrugged and smiled.

"Oh, honey. Come to bed with us!" Gideon said, giving me the sweetest smile.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes. I can't promise Vihaal won't fart or snore," he said, rolling his eyes. "But just before we settled in, he said he wished you were there with us."

"Really? He did?" The thought warmed me in places that had been cold for too long.

"Uh huh," Gideon said, yawning. "Come on."

He reached for me and I took his hand. He tugged me behind him up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with Vihaal.

"Oh good," Vihaal murmured from the bed. "Get in here."

"You can scooch in next to me," Gideon said, climbing under the covers and shuffling over to Vihaal, who put an arm around him.

"Get in the bed and go to sleep, Angel."

"Yes, Vihaal," I said.

The sounds of steady breathing, and the warmth of our combined heat, helped me slide into a deep, restful, and secure sleep.

* * * *

I opened my eyes to a ray of sunlight bouncing off the wall through a tiny gap in the curtains. I lay there, with someone's—presumably Gideon's—back against mine. As I contemplated the multiple random occurrences that had led to me waking up in the bed of two fascinating and attractive men, Gideon sighed and rolled over, flinging his arm across my shoulder.

I blinked, so charmed in that moment, and able to feel the press of his morning erection against the top of my buttocks. I hadn't realized how lonely I'd been.

I closed my eyes and drifted in and out of consciousness, until a giggle and a moan woke me.

"He's awake," Gideon said, his voice breathy and soft.

"Well, he is now," Vihaal murmured. "Good morning, Angel."

"Morning," I mumbled, as Gideon moaned again, his breath hitching in a telltale way.

"I'm just giving Deo a little good morning handy, if you'd like to watch," Vihaal murmured.

A good morning handy? What was this utopia I'd somehow become a part of?

I shifted around, and found myself facing Gideon, whose head was thrown back and whose face was the picture of bliss. Vihaal's forearm was concealed by the coverlet, but it shifted in an obvious rhythm as Gideon groaned.

His eyelids fluttered open and locked on mine. "Good mo—" His breath hitched. "Good morning," he said.

Vihaal chuckled, his hand moving faster.

"I'm so sorry," Gideon apologized. "He just reached around and started doing it." He sighed, his pretty lips parted and his eyes closed again.

I smiled, giving him a kiss on his stubbled cheek. He smiled blissfully and pursed his lips. I bent and kissed him, then drew back so I could watch.

"It won't take long," Vihaal said. "Gideon's quite randy in the morning, and I'm looking forward to a peaceful breakfast."

"Bastard…" Gideon said, then moaned. "Oh fuck, V. That feels so good."

"Lift the covers, would you?" Vihaal said to me.

I did, of course, and had a perfect view of Vihaal's hand pumping Gideon's cock.

"Would you do me a favor and get some lube? It's in the top drawer beside you."

"Sure," I said. I got it and held it out toward him.

"Squirt some in your hand. You can help."

My eyes flashed upward to meet his gaze. "I can?"

"Well, can't you?" he asked, gazing at me with so much affection it kind of startled me. Vihaal was so self-contained and so…controlled, that when these moments of openness and relaxed authenticity occurred, it hit me right in the feels.

Vihaal angled the swollen appendage toward me.

I squirted lube into my palm, rubbed it over both hands, then took what Vihaal offered and spread the slippery fluid all around.

Gideon's eyes fluttered open again then closed. He made a resigned sound and turned his face into the pillow as I worked lube back and forth over him, speeding up and slowing down, just like I enjoyed myself.

"He'll come soon. Keep going."

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Gideon moaned as his cock stiffened in my grasp.

A memory flashed through my brain of Tommy Cavendish in the tenth-grade locker room. I think maybe we'd jerked each other off. Yes, we had. It was coming back to me now. I slowed down.

"Shit," I said, flashing a surprised gaze to Vihaal's.

"What?"

"I, uh, just had a memory of doing this to another kid in high school."

"Really. How very interesting."

I shrugged and resumed, listening to Gideon's soft moans and gasps to motivate me.

"In tenth grade. Tommy Cavendish. He did it for me after. I don't know why I'd blanked that out. I remember liking it a lot. But maybe thinking, since I was turned on by girls too, that I should focus on that."

"Understandable," Vihaal murmured, his gaze fixed on my hand.

"Stop talking about girls…" Gideon breathed.

Vihaal chuckled. "Now go hard and fast," he told me.

I did and Gideon tried to pump himself into my hand. But Vihaal had a firm grip on him.

"You want to come, precious boy?" he whispered in Gideon's ear.

"Almost there. Please, V."

"Then do it. All over Angel's hand."

Gideon gave a tortured sound as spunk erupted over my knuckles, soaking the sheet.

"Oh, that's so lovely to watch," Vihaal said, his fingers still wrapped around the base of Gideon's cock. He aimed the tip at Gideon's belly as I stroked more jizz out of him.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. " Gideon groaned, an ecstatic grimace on his face.

After a moment the jizz stopped spurting and Gideon sighed. Then stretched. Then gazed down at me as I held his cock and stared at the spunk on his belly.

"Lick it up, Angel," Vihaal said.

I glanced at him. "What?"

"You heard me."

I gazed at the smear of jizz on Gideon's belly, contemplating. Then I bent and lapped up the warm fluid, like a cat after drops of milk.

"Oh yes. Angel will fit in well here with us, won't he, Gideon?"

"Oh my God. Kiss me. Please, kiss me," Gideon begged, leaning forward.

I surged forward and caught Gideon's sweet lips with my own, tonguing his open mouth, sharing his spunk with him. He ate at me greedily while Vihaal watched.

"All right. Enough," Vihaal said, swatting Gideon on the hip. "Get cleaned up and be downstairs for breakfast in half an hour. No more sexy business, either. I have other plans for Angel."

Holy hell. My body tingled with excitement and my morning wood twitched. But I needed to piss.

I helped Gideon clean up. We stole soft kisses and gentle caresses here and there, but otherwise obeyed Vihaal's instructions.

When we got downstairs, there was coffee in the carafe and bacon sizzling on the stove.

"Angel, that cushion on the floor is for you."

"Pardon?" I asked, then looked to where Vihaal was gesturing.

A green throw pillow had been placed on the kitchen floor, by one of the chairs. I recalled our conversation at the theater.

I looked at Vihaal. He looked at me.

"You want me to…kneel on the cushion? Really?"

"Yes," he said, throwing me a benign smile. "Try it. You might like it."

Would I? It seemed such a bizarre thing to do, but I had enjoyed being fed at the movies. I was a guest in their home. Maybe it was the least I could do for them, considering they'd rescued me from my broken car the night before.

I took a deep breath, walked over, and kneeled on the cushion, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. I glanced at Gideon. He placed his hands palm down on his thighs for a second. I started to place my hands properly but then the thought of my car breaking down hit me.

"Oh fuck," I said, starting to get up. "My car."

"On the cushion, Angel," Vihaal said, and I found myself obeying the unquestioning authority in his voice. I settled back on the cushion and placed my hands on my thighs.

"But it's still at the movie theater," I said.

"It's been taken care of," Vihaal said.

"I— What?"

Vihaal shrugged, pouring himself a coffee. "I had someone collect it. It's at the repair shop I use."

"Oh."

"You can call them later on and find out what the diagnosis is. But for right now, don't worry about it."

"Yes, Vihaal," I said, happy to not have to think about anything more than staying where I was.

Vihaal took a plate from the counter and placed it before Gideon. It was loaded with eggs, bacon and sausages. He grabbed the other plate and brought it over to the table. He sat down beside where I was kneeling and I averted my gaze, staring at the floor like a good submissive.

What is happening to me? Have I been abducted by incredibly sexy aliens?

"Do you need to safeword, Angel?" Vihaal asked, taking a bite of his eggs.

I swallowed. "No, Vihaal."

I liked the name Vihaal. And I liked the man. Especially as he took little pieces of his breakfast and fed me, his fingers soft against my lips. None of that sexual stuff like at the movies. He was simply providing me nourishment, at his own slow pace, while he and Gideon had a conversation that didn't include me.

Once I got used to the strangeness of it, I didn't mind being down here. For one thing, I didn't have to worry about making conversation. It was implied that I should be silent and receptive to Vihaal's dedicated feeding, and I was. The food he offered me tasted wonderful, even better doled out in little bites from his long fingers. The messy things, like bits of egg, he allowed me to lick from them, like a cat. I felt like a cherished pet, in the best of ways.

Vihaal ate with a knife and fork, but he continued to feed me from his plate, like it was his favorite thing to do.

"Can I please give our little kitty some food?" Gideon asked.

"Of course. But come over here. I think he's very comfortable where he is."

"He's such a cutie. What should we name him?" Gideon asked as he picked up his plate and came over to my side of the table.

The humiliation of being discussed this way shot a thrill right through me that made my cock hard.

"Hmm," Vihaal said. "What about Sweetie?"

Sweetie? What the fuck?

Gideon's frown matched my own. "No, I don't think so. How about Baloo? Like the bear in The Jungle Book ?"

"Well, I guess Baloo it is, then."

Jesus fucking Christ. What had my life come to? And why did I like it?

Gideon's eyes went wide. "We need to get him some kitty ears! And a collar!"

My cheeks were aflame, but so was my whole body. I was aroused and humiliated and very fucking confused about my own reactions. But I continued to kneel on the cushion and accept bits of food from Vihaal and Gideon, my gaze moving from one to the other, until their plates were empty. I was almost disappointed when that happened. That's a lie. I was absolutely disappointed.

Vihaal wiped his fingers with a wet cloth and stroked my hair.

"Baloo, you've been very good. I'm so pleased."

I heard those words and objectively, they were ridiculous. But from Vihaal, they made my heart sing.

"Yes, Vihaal."

"Did you get enough to eat? Grab another piece of toast or I can make more eggs…"

I stood, feeling unwieldy and off center. "No, I'm fine. I'm full."

"Do you want to go shopping with Gideon today?"

"I would love to, but I promised my mother I'd pay her a visit," I said.

"Oh!" Gideon said, "Where does she live?"

"In a very expensive retirement home in the West End," I said. "She says she loves it. But her memory's going." I shrugged and turned to Vihaal. "Did you ask your manager about the financial records?"

"Not yet. But after I drop you off at the retirement home, I'm going to pay a visit to my store. Dominic should be there, and I will bring it up with him. See what his explanation is."

"Oh, you don't have to drive me. I can get an Uber."

"Nonsense. Gideon, are you coming or do you want to stay here?"

"Well, if it's not shopping, I'd just as well stay home, if you don't mind. But please do say hi to Dominic for me," Gideon muttered in a sardonic tone.

* * * *

I loved my mom, and she'd been a pretty cool person twenty years ago. She had control of most of her mental faculties—enough to keep her off the Memory Floor, at least for now.

Her short-term recall was hit and miss, and I found myself answering the same question several times, which wasn't that big of a deal. And she could surprise me. I'd be having what I'd thought was a casual conversation and she'd pick up on something important. Like today.

"So, what's the deal on the romantic partner front? Anything for me to get excited about?" she asked with a steadfast seriousness that made me sit up straighter.

"What? No!"

"Huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Seems strange that you date all these women but none ever sticks. I just wonder sometimes…"

"Mom. Seriously. Are you kidding me?"

"So you still haven't found anyone?"

"Well no. Not exactly."

"Not exactly? What the fuck does that mean?"

"Oh my God, Mom! Do you talk like that in here?"

"I say what the fuck I want, if that's what you mean. I'm not gonna start pussyfooting around just because I'm locked up in a place with do-gooders."

"You're not locked up, Mom. You can come and go as you please."

"So you say. You know how bad my legs are, Angel," she said, giving me a sad look.

"You've got your walker. And I keep asking if you want me to arrange for a scooter."

"Hmph. A hazard, those things. I almost got mowed down in the hallway the other day. Some of these people don't know how to fucking drive."

"Mom, come on," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed by the chair she was in. "You shouldn't be swearing."

"Angel," she said, leveling a look at me. "It's one of the few joys I have left."

I grinned, because, yeah, she was hilarious when she was feeling punchy.

She narrowed her eyes. "Now, back to what I asked you. What do you mean, not exactly?"

"Oh." Fuck. "Well, I just meant to say no. No, I don't have a steady girlfriend."

She looked at me. I looked at her.

"What do you have, then?" she asked.

I looked away—at the window, at the door.

"What's going on?"

"It's…it's a man," I said, my voice low. "It's two men."

Thank God her hearing was compromised.

"A man!" she exclaimed, so loudly I was worried that people in the hallway would hear.

"Shhh!" I said. "Jesus!"

"Angel Barnett, did you go get yourself a boyfriend?" she asked, as excited as if I'd won the lottery.

"Not exactly. Shhhh. Mom."

"Not exactly?" she said in a stage whisper, her face the picture of astonishment. "Are you getting plowed, Angel? My sweet little boy? By a man?"

I gave her a look. She was anything but sentimental.

"Oh my God," I muttered.

She chortled. "Oh, bless my sorry old bones. Well, I'll be. Although I can't say I'm all that surprised."

"I'm not getting plowed!" I said in a stage-whisper. "Jesus."

"You're the top? Well, that is surprising…"

"Mom! What the hell?" I asked, in a quieter voice. At this rate, the whole floor was going to know about my private life.

My mother waved her hand in between us. "Never mind. So, who is this man? Tell me! This is the most entertaining news I've had in months. Maybe years. I always suspected the women were a distraction from what you really wanted."

What. The. Fuck.

I gaped at her. "You did?"

"Oh, Angel. You always had a thing for good looking men."

"Oh my God. My whole life has been a lie."

"So, what's his name?"

"Um…Gideon," I said. Might as well go for the gold. Try this for amusement, Mom . "And Vihaal."

She stared at me and her chin dropped. "He has…two names?"

I shook my head.

"Then what do you—oh! Two men? You cheeky devil."

I couldn't help laughing at the look on her face.

"Angel! What on Earth?"

"What can I say? It just happened. I don't remember how."

"Well, what do they look like? Do you have a photo?"

"Oh, no, I don't really… It's kind of a casual thing right now."

Even though it doesn't feel casual. Not for me, at least.

"Oh. But they're nice men?" she asked, actually expressing concern for my wellbeing.

"They're really nice, Mom. You'd like them."

"When can I meet them? Where did you meet them? How long have you been with them?"

"It's been several weeks now. Well, the romance, at least." Romance? Was it a romance? I couldn't use the word sex-fest or she'd run with that. "We've been friends for a bit longer."

"Hmm. Are you being safe?"

She means condoms. Oh my God. "Yes, Mom."

"You know, condoms are very important for anal sex."

"Oh my God. I know. Please stop."

Listening to your seventy-nine-year-old mother say ‘anal sex' was beyond uncomfortable.

"I'm not even—I mean," I scrambled, putting a hand to my head. "We're not even—never mind."

"Well," she said. "You've made a boring old woman's day very interesting."

"Good. I guess?"

"Are they younger or older?" She watched me with eyes that could still see things nobody else could. At least she'd likely forget everything I told her by tonight.

"Gideon is younger, and he's very cute," I said, listening to the words coming out of my mouth as if they were spoken by another person. It didn't seem like me, but it was. It so was.

"Not too young, I hope."

"He's twenty-six. And Vihaal is forty."

"Forty!" she said, eyes widening.

"Mom, I'm thirty-six."

"No! You're thirty-six? Really? God, the time flies when you get old." She shrugged. "I suppose ten years isn't that much of an age difference."

I'd been born when she was in her early forties. A completely unexpected pregnancy that she'd accepted with grace and always called a fortuitous accident. I'd never felt unwanted. Not like Vihaal, it seemed. I needed to find out more of that story.

"Vihaal doesn't look his age. You know, now that I think about it, he looks kind of like Rahul Kholi, the actor."

"Who?"

"He was Napoleon in The Fall of the House of Usher ." We'd watched the series together, back when mom was still living in the house. She'd enjoyed it.

"Oh yes. Oh! Really?"

I described how sweet they were, and how I'd met them through Jacob and Sebastian. She seemed satisfied.

"Well, I'm glad that you're finally exploring your sexuality. I knew there was something else there."

"Mom. If you've known all this time, why didn't you say anything?"

She smiled at me smugly. "Because I think it's important for people to figure these things out on their own."