29. Nash

CHAPTER 29

NASH

Damon's hand was on his hip and as Nash skimmed his lips up Taylor's throat, he felt the way he pushed into Damon before canting his hips forward, seeking more contact with Nash.

Nash wasn't a stranger to love in all its forms. But no matter what he'd previously felt or written or imagined, it all paled in comparison to this. His universe felt impossibly bright with these two men by his side. The rest of his life could go to shit, but as long as he had them, it would be okay.

The curve of Taylor's neck tasted like skin and Nash loved the way Taylor moaned when he flicked his earlobe with his tongue. But Nash wanted a bit more than a steamy make-out session. He pulled back, smiling at the way Taylor whimpered at the loss, and smoothed his hands down Taylor's sides.

"Let's see what's under this dress."

Taylor went for his zipper, but Damon caught his hand. "He didn't say take it off."

Nash caught Damon's gaze. Elation and lust lived in Damon's expression. Without words shared between them, Damon had anticipated what Nash wanted. Unable to resist, he stepped in close, brushing a kiss against Taylor's mouth, quick and dirty with more tongue than lips. It was there and gone again in the space of a breath and Nash reached behind Taylor, grabbing Damon and yanking him close enough for them to share a kiss.

It was imperfect. They were too far away for it to be a deep kiss. To turned on for it to be sweet. It was messy and perfect, and Nash pulled away then went to his knees. The skirt of the dress was poofy, and Nash smiled up at Taylor as he gathered up the material and ducked underneath it, vanishing into the sea of pink.

Taylor looked spectacular no matter what he wore, but there was something about the way he held himself when he wore what he liked best. It was an intoxicating mixture of confidence and vulnerability. Nash leaned in and pressed his face against the black panties. God, they were soft and smooth, inviting for Nash to nuzzle his face against.

Tucked under Taylor's dress, Nash felt like a secret. He mouthed Taylor's rigid cock through the panties, hands gliding up the outside of Taylor's thighs, stilling his movements.

"What's he got on under this pretty dress?" Damon asked, and whatever he was doing made Taylor flinch and moan. Not to be outdone, Nash freed the head of Taylor's cock from the confines of the panties and took it into his mouth. Taylor's whole body jerked and his hand came down to rest on Nash's head. Even through the layers of fabric and tulle, Nash felt the desperation in the touch. The way Taylor needed contact to anchor himself to Nash. Or maybe he just needed to press Nash's head down, urging him to take more of his cock.

Nash pulled back and playfully flicked the tip of Taylor's cock with his tongue. "He's got on these black panties. I didn't know they made fabric this fucking smooth." Nash hooked his fingers into the top of the panties and gently tugged them down to mid-thigh, freeing Taylor's cock and restricting his movements simultaneously.

Taylor's cock was rock hard and leaking. Even in the pink bubble Nash had put himself in, he could see the moisture beading on the tip of Taylor's cock. Before he leaked all over his dress, Nash took him into his mouth. Swirling his tongue over the head, he toyed with the thick vein that ran up the underside of Taylor's cock. Taylor held firm to Nash's head and thrust his hips, sinking his cock deeper into Nash's mouth.

"That's it, fuck his face. Take what you need," Nash heard Damon say. He hummed his agreement and laughed inwardly when Taylor whimpered and jerked his hips involuntarily at Damon's filthy words.

A second hand came down and now Nash's head was cradled in Taylor's palms and a ton of fabric. Closing his eyes, he slid his hands up the back of Taylor's legs until he had a handful of ass. He felt Damon then, thrusting against Taylor, pressing into him. Grinding and teasing and ramping up both of their desperation.

Nash held impossibly still, except for his tongue, which he used to torment Taylor by teasing the head of his cock. Taylor held Nash tighter, and his hips thrust forward then pulled back. Nash hummed and clutched Taylor's ass. On the next thrust, Nash urged Taylor to go deeper, gripping his ass and pulling him in.

Wet kisses. Heavy breathing. The unmistakable sound of his own pulse rushing in his ears. Taylor's moans and Damon's filthy whispers all combined to make the most perfect symphony. When it seemed like Taylor was speeding toward the end like a swell of sound, building a crescendo, he slowed the pace. Easing off, Nash let Taylor's body cool down a bit.

He could hear Taylor plead breathlessly, but he had no way of knowing whom he was pleading with. Nash, Damon, or maybe the universe, but it didn't matter much to Nash. He could spend all night under Taylor's dress, doing wicked things to him.

"Do you want to come?" Nash heard Damon ask.

Taylor whimpered, hips jerking. Precum flowed from his cock, coating Nash's mouth in the subtly salty taste.

"Was that a yes?" Damon asked.

Taylor's laugh was short and sharp. "That was a fuck yes," he replied, desperately twitching and thrusting now, seeking more, seeking release.

"Then you better come in Nash's mouth so you don't ruin your pretty dress."

Nash reached down and pressed the heel of his hand into the base of his cock. Goddamned Damon and his dirty mouth. Nash shut his eyes and managed to resist the urge to whip his cock out and finish himself off right then. God, he wanted to, though. His cock was aching. Solid and screaming in his pants, clamoring for friction, for anything.

Taylor's breathing filled the empty apartment. Whimpers bounced off bare walls and echoed back at them. Nash was consumed by the sounds that only increased in volume and pitch as Taylor careened toward his release. Nash took him down to the root, pressing his nose against Taylor's body, clinging to him when he cried out and thrust wildly, attempting to force Nash in closer—as if he could—as he spilled down Nash's throat.

By the time Taylor let him go, Nash was starved for air and he took a breath so deep it made his head swim.

"Holy fuck," Taylor said, though it sounded like he was barely able to get the words out, they were so thick and lust-drunk. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Nash leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Taylor's thigh, letting himself take a few breaths. "I'm fantastic," he answered. He did, however, need out from under Taylor's dress. Gently, he tugged Taylor's panties back up and tucked his half-hard dick back into them.

Nash managed to find his way out from under all that fabric and sat back on his heels. Taylor looked debauched. Damon had clearly been a busy man and not only was Taylor's hair mussed, he had a series of small love bites up the side of his neck. The fairy lights made the two of them glow like something from a cinematic dream sequence. Nash smoothed his hands down his thighs and let out a shaky breath.

Damon's hand skimmed up Taylor's chest and he caught Nash's gaze before he turned Taylor's head, stealing a kiss. Now that his cock was no longer down Nash's throat, Taylor turned in Damon's embrace. He fumbled with the jacket of the tuxedo, pushing it off Damon's shoulders.

It slid to the floor and Taylor started on the tie next, earning a laugh from Damon. He pulled away and gave it a yank to loosen it. "The fancy outfits seemed like a good idea in my head. They're slightly more inconvenient than I imagined."

Taylor raked his gaze over Damon. "I like it. A lot."

Damon worked on the buttons of his shirt and stared down at Nash. "Are you going to sit there all night?"

"I might." Nash shifted so that he was sitting on the floor instead of his heels and he stretched his legs out in front of him. Leaning back, he braced himself on his hands. "I've got a good view from down here."

Once Damon's shirt was unbuttoned and freed from his pants, Taylor moved in, sweeping his hands up Damon's bare chest. He glanced over his shoulder at Nash. "Did you really buy this place?"

"Every square foot."

Taylor nodded, but gave nothing away as to whether or not he planned to move in with them. It was okay, though, because Nash knew they were the real deal, no matter what their relationship looked like. They didn't have to live together. There was a time in his life when Nash had needed other people's approval. He hadn't wanted his happiness to make waves in other people's lives. Now he'd be a whole tsunami if it meant securing the future he wanted. The one that was right in front of him.

Nash got to his feet and slid into the mix, standing next to both Damon and Taylor. He put one arm around Taylor's waist and he grabbed onto Damon, hauling him in for a kiss. Damon moaned into Nash's mouth then pulled away, breathless.

"You taste like him." Damon went in for another kiss. It was hard and deep, all consuming. It was everything a kiss should be, and it made Nash's insides turn to mush. It was the kind of kiss that said all the things Damon was feeling. Things that went deeper than arousal. Nash could feel how much Damon loved him in the shape of his kisses and it was like falling for him all over again.

"Fuck." Taylor's voice dragged Nash back to the present. He hadn't forgotten about him. It was impossible, even if he hadn't been holding on to him, he'd have known he was there. But it was the rawness to his voice that Nash noticed.

"I love you," Taylor said. He sounded strained, like it was hard to talk. "I love you both so fucking much. I think I have for a long time."

Damon pulled out of the kiss. He grabbed onto Taylor and hauled him in, pulled him close and pressed their foreheads together. "I love you too. We love you too."

Taylor gripped onto the open panel of Damon's shirt. "Even if I don't want to live with you yet?"

Damon's eyes went soft and he cradled Taylor's face in his hands. "Even if you never want to live with us. Even if you went sailing around the world and only sent postcards. We'll always want you."

Taylor relaxed a little and managed a nod. Nash reached for his hand and tangled their fingers together.

"I just think I want to have my own space. And I want to date you guys more. Like real dates where you pick me up and we go out, or stay in. I want to…not necessarily take things slow, but I don't want to rush either. I want to enjoy every minute of this. I've found an apartment nearby. It's just a little studio, but it's in my budget. I can move in next month." Taylor bit his lip and his brow furrowed in concern. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Nash said. "We want you with us, but when you're ready. And we support you having your own space."

"I won't be able to fit all of my plants in my new place, though." Taylor looked at them with round, pleading eyes. "Do you think I could keep them here?"

"You can keep as many plants here as you want," Nash promised. "But I do still own the unit downstairs. You could move in there."

Taylor shook his head. "I know it sounds dumb, but I want my own space. Not something in my dad's basement, and I know you'd respect my privacy, but I think I want to try the studio first. I'm so, so?—"

Damon cut him off with a bruising kiss. "Don't apologize." He brushed Taylor's hair off his forehead and kissed him again, softer this time. "Don't ever apologize."