Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Colin

" I think it looks great. You should wear it to dinner," I say to Owen when he comes out in the shirt I bought him.

"I don't think matching shirts is appropriate attire for dinner."

"He didn't put a dress code on the invitation, and since he wants to stick to formal rules, he should have added expectations." Two could play at his fucking proper etiquette for invitations crap.

"You're right, but that isn't going to make Oliver any less mad."

I shrug. "Sucks to be him."

"He's already upset. I don't think we should anger him more."

I drop to my knees, looking up at him through my eyelashes. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Owen asks, his voice stern.

Electricity sparks in my veins. "Anything," I agree.

Owen reaches for my hair and pulls my face against the growing bulge in his pants. "Decisions, decisions."

"Please, husband?" I bat my eyelashes at him and rub against his groin like a damn cat. "Let me suck you off."

"When you ask so nicely, it's hard to say no."

"Then don't."

"We'll be late."

"He's already going to be mad. You might as well get an orgasm out of it."

Owen thinks about it for a minute before opening his pants and feeding me his dick. He's warm and hard in my mouth, and I groan around him. I fucking love this. Love when he takes what I offer so freely.

Since we do have a time restraint, I get to work for a quick and sloppy blowjob. Using my hand to stroke him in tandem with sucking and licking and devouring. Owen thrusts into my mouth with a gasp and a shudder.

He throbs on my tongue, a sign he's ready to come. It's exhilarating to have this kind of power over someone. To know what gets them hot, how to work their body to get the reaction you want. It's heady.

"Fuuuck." Cum pools in my mouth and down my throat. A wicked smile turns up my lips as I watch him give into the pleasure. Give in to me.

He cups my cheek and gives me a soft, satisfied smile. "Thank you, princess."

"Any time." I wink and adjust my aching dick before I stand. "Let's go see if I can get Oliver's head to explode."

Owen groans as we step into the elevator. Tonight is going to be fun.

The old man at the desk smiles at Owen as we head to the penthouse lift.

"Good to see you happy, sir." He nods.

"Thank you, Geoffrey."

I'm damn near giddy with anticipation. I have a jacket over my shirt so it can't be seen—yet. I can't wait for him to see them both.

"It's concerning how excited you are about this," Owen mutters.

"Don't ruin my fun. I don't have many opportunities to fuck with him anymore." I side-eye him. "I could go back to annoying you instead."

"I really don't know which is worse."

"Oliver is so hard to fuck with too! This is like winning the lottery." I kiss his cheek as the doors slide open, and Isaac is standing with a drink in his hand, a button-up shirt and slacks on.

Oh, this is going to be great.

Owen sighs as I stride out to embrace my friend. "Hello Isaac, you look dashing." I air kiss both of his cheeks. "Dinner smells delicious, though I hope it's not for a while. I need to let my previous meal settle a bit."

Owen snorts and starts coughing. Isaac looks between us, confused. "You knew we were having dinner, and you ate before you came over?"

"What can I say? I'm insatiable." I shrug out of my jacket and toss it over the back of the couch.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in a t-shirt," Isaac says to Owen, who is pouring me a glass of wine. "Spelunking Enthusiast?"

"It's about fucking time–" Oliver appears from down the hall and comes to an abrupt stop when he sees Owen's shirt. It's all I can do not to cackle when Oliver turns slowly to me, a mask of horror and fury on his face. "This is your fault."

I wait for him to read my shirt while Owen watches the liquid in his glass, swirling around.

"Does that say ‘dick spelunking anonymous'?" Isaac squeaks.

"It does." I nod. It also has a picture of a peach with heart hands and a flashlight shining behind it is what really brings it all together.

Owen throws back his drink in a single swallow. Probably smart to get the buzz going now before Oliver loses his shit.

"What—" Isaac is staring at my shirt, trying to read the tagline under the peach.

"Cum explore my cave. That's what it says," Owen says monotone, before refilling his glass and joining me in the living room.

"What is happening?" Oliver demands.

"We're bonding." I shrug. "You should be happy for your brother."

"You don't need to fucking bond. It's not a real marriage."

"The state of Nevada disagrees." I take the wineglass from Owen. "Thank you, darling."

Oliver narrows his eyes. "Are you being forced to do this? Do we need a safe word?"

I glare at Oliver. "He put it on willingly."

"Is that true?" Oliver demands.

Owen rolls his eyes. "He asked me to wear it, and since your invitation didn't have a dress code…"

Oliver's mouth falls open. "I cannot believe I have to have a formal dinner to get to see my own twin." He says twin like it's an abomination. "And you use it for nefarious purposes?!"

I almost feel bad for him. "I guess you could include a dress code next time."

"Isaac, how are you enjoying your art classes?" Owen asks, changing the subject.

"It's so great. I'm learning so much about technique and different mediums." My friend glows, and it makes me smile. "I have some pieces finished if you want to see?"

"Of course." I motion for him to lead, and I follow him into the office he shares with Oliver. His art supplies have started to take over the space. A drop cloth is on the floor under an easel with a half-done painting on it, paints, a painted jar, sketch pad and pencils set down here and there.

It must drive Oliver insane, but to my shock Oliver comes up behind Isaac, putting his hand on the small of his back, leaning in to kiss him. "You're so talented."

Isaac turns red before he pulls out a big brown portfolio with handles and unties it, flipping through whatever he has inside. "Here," he says with a smile on his face. He lifts the large paper with a graphite drawing of a fencer in en garde position. I assume it's Oliver from the confidence in the stance.

"Baby Bird, this is amazing." I put my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. The shadows are deep and dramatic, creating an intense feeling of concentration and determination.

"It really is fantastic," Owen adds. "You're very talented."

"Thanks." He smiles at the piece, then slides it back into the folder. "It's my favorite one so far. I'm kind of scared I won't ever top it."

I wrap my arm around his shoulder in a side hug. "You'll do great things, I have no doubt."

"Part of the art program requirement is participating in an art show at the end of the year. I'm terrified."

"That piece you just showed me was ready for the show. You'll be fine."

"I'm going to go check on dinner. Why don't you join me, Owen?" Oliver says not so subtly.

Owen glances at me, and I nod for him to go with.

When we are alone, Isaac turns on me. "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you and Owen?"

"What's there to say? We're married and making it work. There's no reason for us to be miserable." I'm not sure how much to tell him since it doesn't seem like Owen has said a word to Oliver.

"What does that mean?"

"It means we're making it work. We're friends, partners in crime with the sole purpose of annoying Oliver." I pat his cheek and head back to where I'm sure Oliver is interrogating Owen. While I am all about sex positivity, I'm not about to out Owen. If he doesn't want to tell Isaac and Oliver about what we've been doing, he doesn't have to. He will tell Oliver when he's ready.

"I can't believe it took a formal invitation to get you to come over here," Oliver says as we enter the room. "You lived here for years."

I'm shocked. Instead of interrogating him about our relationship, he's mad Owen hasn't come home? Is Oliver really so blind to us?

"What can I say? I keep him busy," I toss over my shoulder as I refill my glass. "When is dinner? I'm starving."

"I thought you already ate?" Isaac questions.

"Kitten." Oliver looks at the ceiling like he's asking some higher power for strength. "He meant his first meal was cum. You know he says shit to get a rise from you." Oliver rolls his eyes.

Owen ducks his head, picking at something on his pants.

"Oh." Isaac's face is flushed red again.

I love how Oliver doesn't believe that I actually could score his brother. I laugh to myself, enjoying this more than I thought I would. I want to tell him, just to see his face, but I'd never do that to Owen who seems to wish he was anywhere but here.

"At least you're here now," Isaac says, trying to steer the conversation back to friendly ground.

"If not terribly underdressed." Oliver presses his lips into a line.

"And you haven't even come to see the new apartment since we got settled. So now who's being rude?" I snap, figuring Owen won't stand up for himself.

"It's been polluted by you. Why would I want to be there?" Oliver's gaze flicks over to me.

"Your brother sleeps next to me every night. Has he been polluted too?" I'm getting annoyed.

"He's clearly been brainwashed or succumbed to a brain injury. I haven't figured it out yet, but I will." Oliver's icy tone tells me I'm walking a fine line, but I don't care.

"Maybe you need a new crop top." I shrug and smile at the mental image. Oliver in a crop top would be hilarious. Hot but hilarious.

"I want one!" Isaac pipes up. "Do you design those or just find them somewhere?"

"On Baby Bird, I'll design one for you." My stomach grumbles loudly. "Seriously, I'm starving. Someone feed me."

A text vibrates my phone.

Husband: My cum not enough for you?

Blow Job King: I have a fast metabolism. You have to feed me more often.

Husband: I'm already considering taking your mouth in the bathroom.

"What the hell are you smirking at like that?" Oliver demands as he stares at Owen.

Owen looks up, glancing around. "Was I?"

"Yes—" Oliver gets up like he's going to take Owen's phone.

"Probably the picture of my ass I sent this morning. It's a great angle. You want to see it?" I open my phone. "I can send it to you."

Husband: You didn't send me a picture?

"If you send me a picture of any part of you, I'll make sure it's never found."

I stare Oliver directly in the eyes, putting my hand by my nipple like I'm going to rub it for him.

"Dinner is ready!" Isaac announces, clapping his hands together, ushering us towards the dining room.

"Thank gods. I hope there's a decent protein. I've been craving savory meat."

"I will end you," Oliver growls.

"Oh, that was hot. Say something else."

Owen sighs and pushes me around the table to my seat, where he pulls out my chair. Oliver's mouth drops open in horror.

"Thank you, dear." I sit and let Owen push me in.

"Are you gaslighting me? Is this a simulation? Am I in a coma?" Oliver looks at Isaac. "You're seeing this, right? I'm not hallucinating? They're here and being all couple-y?"

"If they're happy, why does it matter?" Isaac says carefully.

"Because it's Colin." Oliver says my name like it's a dirty word.

I sigh. "Did you just make my name a slur? I'm not sure if I should be proud or offended."

"It means he's thought about it for more than a few seconds. Take the compliment." Owen puts my napkin on my lap as the butler serves us.

Blow Job King: I'll send you one later.

Husband: before we leave.

Blow Job King: do I get a reward if I do?

Husband: I'll reward you handsomely.

Blow Job King: challenge accepted.

Husband: such a good boy.

I let it go and take a bite of pot roast, moaning at the savory gravy. "Fuck that's good."

"Our cook is amazing," Isaac says.

"Please let them know I throughly enjoyed their meat."

Isaac snorts and coughs. Oliver glares at me while he pats his husband's back, and Owen smiles. Tonight has been a success.