Chapter 31

They cleaned up,all three of them, and then they were back in Zander’s big bed.

Zander sat with his back against the headboard, Vince in the middle of the bed facing him, sitting cross-legged.

Scotty studied the both of them from his position, lying next to Zander.

After informing them about Derri’s death, Zander hadn’t uttered another word. Scotty hadn’t yet gotten acclimated to how easily Zander spoke about killing. How easily he did said killing. Maybe he should be hesitant to be in this space with two men who had zero qualms about it, but just like earlier when Zander had fucked him all rough and punishing, he couldn’t muster up whatever part of him should care.

Maybe he was fucked up.

But the other two men in the bed with him were just as fucked up, if not more, so he figured he was in good company. “Tell us what happened,” he urged Zander, who looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Wait. Hold up.” Vince held up a hand, glancing from Zander to Scotty. “Is that really something you want to know about?” he asked Scotty, eyebrows raised. “Can you handle it?”

Scotty frowned. What kind of question was that? “I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t,” he responded. “And look, I don’t need every minute detail, but clearly Zander feels a way about…what happened.” He shrugged. “So if he wants to share then I’m listening.” He didn’t know much about relationships, but he knew enough to know that your partner deserved a judgment-free space, right? Somewhere to unload? He was determined to be that person for both of his men.

“There’s nothing to tell.” Zander rubbed the back of his neck with a grimace. “The minute I chose you two, Derri was on borrowed time.”

He was calm; way too calm, in Scotty’s opinion. Zander and Derri had shared a life at one point. They’d had a bond that even Scotty had taken note of. It hadn’t gone away just because of the distance the two men had put between them or even Zander’s relationship with Vince and Scotty.

“I’m sorry.” He laid a hand on Zander’s bicep. “I’m sure that must have hurt.” And he also knew that Derri must have given Zander no other choice, so he voiced that as well because he saw the guilt Zander tried so hard to hide. He felt the pain in every line of Zander’s body. He was hurting. Taking Derri’s life had not been an easy thing for Zander to do.

“You would not have been safe,” Zander said softly. His gaze trekked from Vince to Scotty, lingering. “You would not have been safe with him around.”

That much Scotty knew.

“Then you did what had to be done,” Vince told Zander.

He did, but Vince had to know that the outcome wasn’t what Zander would’ve preferred. Scotty didn’t think the situation was as cut and dried as Vince wanted to make it appear. He had to notice the flare of resentment in Zander’s eyes that said his hand had been forced.

Sitting up, Scotty climbed into Zander’s lap and hugged him. “I know you loved him,” he murmured in Zander’s ear. “You’re hurting and that’s okay.” He wished there’d been someone around to speak those latter five words to him when he’d been in the throes of his shit, fighting his own demons. He wished there’d been someone around with a hug, offering a safe space to fall apart. “You protected us and we love you for it, but you can do that and still wish that it all went down differently.”

Zander’s breath hitched and his arms went around Scotty, holding him tight.

It hurt, but Scotty breathed through it. “It’s okay.” He stroked the back of Zander’s neck. “It’s okay.” He glanced over his shoulder at Vince. “We’re here.”

Vince joined them, putting his arms around both of them and whispering to Zander, “You can grieve him. You can grieve the man he was, the man you loved. You’re safe with us.”

Scotty hadn’t expected such tenderness from him, and neither had Zander apparently because he broke then. Zander’s body shook as he buried his face in Scotty’s neck and reached out a hand to Vince, clinging to his t-shirt with a fist. Zander didn’t make a sound, but Scotty felt the trickle of his tears on his skin. His heart broke for Kian, the man Zander had been once upon a time. The one who’d loved Derri so much. He’d trusted Derri with his life, as evidenced by that dangerous plan they’d concocted to deal with Zander’s uncle. Kian and Derri had sacrificed themselves, their hearts, and their relationship for a greater purpose and ended up being casualties of said purpose.

It was heartbreaking, and Scotty understood Derri’s resentment toward him and Vince. He didn’t know that if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t have acted the same way Derri did. So he gave Zander his support, his skin soaking up all of Zander’s tears, his hand stroking Zander’s nape, the top of his head, his ears. Doing anything to help with Zander’s pain while Vince whispered to him, telling him it was okay to cry. Okay to be angry and sad. Okay to miss Derri.

Scotty had been at his lowest that night when he’d tried to rob Zander’s mechanic shop. The man he’d met that night, the one with the dead eyes and cold words, that man was now crying on his shoulder. Life had a way of surprising you and Scotty hadn’t ever taken the chance to appreciate that fact.

Now he was.

He sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to whoever was listening—before, he would’ve said nobody was—for the moment he was in, for the men he’d found himself forever connected to, and he vowed to always be their support in whatever way they needed.

Time went by and they remained as they were, until finally Zander lifted his head off Scotty’s shoulder and unclenched his fingers from Vince’s t-shirt. His eyes were still wet, and red, too, as was the tip of his nose, but he looked them in the eye, and he touched their faces—one in each hand.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat and swallowed, voice raspy when he repeated, “Thank you.”

“We love you.” Vince swiped a thumb across Zander’s wet cheek. “This is where you bring it.” He motioned between himself and Scotty. “When you’re sad or happy or filled with grief or pissed off…whatever it is, you bring it to us.”

Scotty nodded. He couldn’t have said it better, honestly. “You bring it to us.”

Zander’s lips twitched. “We’ve come a long way.”

Scotty couldn’t help but chuckle. “We have.”

“That’s right.” Vince heaved a sigh. “Which is why we need to discuss Russ.”

Zander scowled. “The fuck we do.”

Scotty’s gaze went back and forth between them. Why did they need to discuss Vince’s colleague, the one who’d betrayed him?

“We need to give the authorities a body,” Vince told Zander. “We need to paint a picture and feed them a narrative. Put a period on it. Otherwise, someone will come looking and it just might be someone who can’t be bought.”

Zander shrugged. “That shit’s already been handled.”

Vince openedhis eyes with a yawn and a stretch and almost tumbled off the bed.

“Shit.” He grabbed the mattress and lifted his head. The other two men were asleep in a tangle of limbs—Zander on his back, legs spread, an arm around Scotty, who slept with his head on Zander’s naked chest.

Vince shook his head with a small smile playing on his lips. One of them was constantly falling off the bed, so they needed a bigger one. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he took in his men.

It’d been a week since the Derri situation and while Zander was still grieving, he was also doing better each day. There were times when he got really quiet and Vince and Scotty would sit with him and hold him. Vince didn’t give a fuck about Derri, but he loved Zander and as long as Zander needed him, he would be there. Zander had also kept his promise and handled the Russ situation, making sure Vince’s former colleague’s body was found and that the person in charge of the investigation was someone in Zander’s pocket.

They’d pinned it on a career criminal with an outspoken grudge against Russ for roughing him up months prior. Said criminal had gotten beaten to death in his jail cell the night he was arrested. And just like that, the case was closed before it’d even been opened.

He was a protector, Zander was.

Vince studied him now. He looked so innocent when he slept. And with Vince and Scotty, Zander was everything anyone could want in a partner. But when he was focused on business, he was focused and he was deadly. Thank God they were on the same side.

Vince’s mouth watered the longer he stared at his men sleeping. All his life, he’d been about work, about proving something to himself, but increasingly lately, all he wanted to do was lay up in bed with those two.

He got onto his hands and knees and made his way over to them, crawling between Zander’s parted thighs, dragging his nose along the inside of his right thigh and then his left. The three of them were naked since they’d fucked until the wee hours of the morning before finally succumbing to sleep. He was still tender, but Vince wanted them again.

He would always want them.

So while they slept, he licked his way up Zander’s soft cock, taking it in his mouth. With every kiss and flick of his tongue, Zander’s shaft hardened. His body twitched, too, but he didn’t rouse. Vince fisted him, licking on his tip, eyes closing when Zander’s salty flavor hit his taste buds. He wanted more of it, so he sealed his lips around Zander’s cock head and sucked.

“Mmm.” Zander’s hips jerked, body arching. “V-Vince.”

The stutter in his words. The rough and scratchy quality of his voice. Vince moaned, taking him deeper, saliva doing what it needed to do, slicking Zander up, making it easier for Vince to take him to the back of his mouth and gag.

“Fuck!” Zander gripped the back of his neck, and Vince opened his eyes, peering up at him.

Scotty was awake, too, just lying there with his head on Zander’s already heaving chest, watching Vince with eyes clouded with sleep and lust. The two of them watched him and he put on a show, stroking Zander’s length as he licked and nipped and sucked.

“Ssssss. Shit, baby. Do that then.” Zander’s fingers trembled on Vince’s nape, hips circling. “Suck me.”

He did, fucking the bed as his own cock dripped precum. His empty ass clenched as he sank his fingers into Zander’s hips, holding him steady, and took him deep. All the way to the back of his throat, stopping only when he gagged, eyes watering. His mouth got wetter, though; saliva was every-fucking-where, wetting up the two of them, soaking Zander’s length. Zander watched him with narrowed eyes as Vince eased off and then went back for more, tongue lashing against his crown, lapping up all the salty deliciousness that leaked for him.

Vince closed his eyes on a moan as the bed creaked, the mattress dipping. Then hands were on him. His ass. His eyes flew open and he glanced over his shoulder to find Scotty kneeling behind him, lubed fingers pushing into Vince, making him cry out around Zander’s cock. Scotty’s tongue and fingers were on him, his hole, inside him, fucking him as he allowed Zander to fuck his throat.

The tears flooding his eyes spilled over, trekking down his cheeks as Scotty finger-fucked him, tongue circling his hole, and Zander fucked in and out of his mouth with powerful strokes. He liked it. Liked how they used him. How they just always knew what he needed and gave it so willingly.

He loved them.

And he wanted to ride Zander, wanted to feel the other man inside him, so reluctantly he eased off, releasing Zander’s cock and gasping for air. Scotty’s fingers retreated and Vince moaned at the loss before getting up and straddling Zander. Scotty was there kneeling next to him, helping to slick Zander up and then assisting Vince with hands on his hips as he fisted Zander’s dick and brought it to where he needed it most.

The smooth crown bumped his hole and slid up his taint. Zander arched, teeth in his bottom lip, eyes slitted. “Sit on it,” he ordered in a low gravelly voice that sparked flames in Vince’s belly. “Scotty, help him.”

And Scotty did. Vince felt almost like a marionette as Scotty dragged his hips back, aligning him with Zander’s shaft and then easing him down on it.

“Unnngh.” God. It never failed to destroy him, that initial moment when Zander broke through his ring of muscle and entered him. Like imbibing fire that scorched him from the inside out. He threw his head back, eyes closed as his ass swallowed Zander inch by inch, with Scotty kissing his nape, whispering words Vince couldn’t make out over the pounding of blood in his veins and the rush of flames.

He couldn’t move, so Scotty directed his movements. It was Scotty who yanked him backward, sending Zander all the way in, bottoming out, and tearing a cry from Vince. Scotty who moved his hips back and forth, then up and down, and so that’s how Vince ended up riding that thick veiny cock inside him.

He’d never experienced pleasure like the pleasure he got from both of his men’s hands on him. Scotty was at his back, an arm around his neck, a hand on his hip. Rocking on him, his erection pressed against Vince, painting his skin with sticky fluid. And Zander was below him, staring up at the two of them with eyes that glittered, teeth in his bottom lip as he thrust up into Vince with both hands rubbing Vince’s thighs.

He wanted them like this every morning. Wanted to feel them, experience this, every minute of every day.

Zander fisted him, jerking Vince’s cock in time to his thrusts. Vince’s mouth fell open, slight panic in his movements as he tried to fight the orgasm that immediately swirled in his balls. In the bottom of his feet. At the base of his spine.

“Zan-Zander.” His voice broke, falling between them, when Scotty reached down the front of his body and pinched his nipples, pulling, tugging. That bite of pain… “Oh God. Please. Please.” Desperately, he lifted and plunged down on the cock inside him, running toward that itch, that thing that burned and pulsed and writhed— “Oh God. Oh fuck!” He rode the orgasm until he couldn’t. Until he was blinded, the force of it flinging him face down onto Zander’s sweat-slicked chest. He rolled to the side, off Zander and onto the bed, ears ringing. He heard his fucking heartbeat and nothing else.

Panting.

Body spasming in the aftermath.

Zander said something, but Vince couldn’t make it out. God, he just might die if this thing between them continued to be as powerful as it was. The bed vibrated under him and he opened his eyes to find Zander on his hands and knees and Scotty behind him.

Fucking him.

Awww, hell. As spent as he was, his body still reacted to the sight and he dragged his palm down to his twitching dick, semi-hard and sticky with his cum. He stroked it with one hand, bringing the other hand to his hole. He was a mess down there, stretched and wet and pulsing.

So sensitive too.

He gritted his teeth and pushed two fingers inside, eyes rolling back as he struggled to focus on the men in his line of sight. Zander’s grunts and groans and Scotty’s moaning. Scotty’s face was buried in Zander’s nape, hips snapping faster and faster as Zander begged him to take him harder and faster and deeper.

Scotty gave him all of that.

And then there were no words, only the slap of flesh on flesh and the sounds of the three of them, caught up in each other, in their pleasure, their lust. Vince finger-fucked himself in time to Scotty’s thrusts, toes curling, body coming off the bed.

Panting.

Eyes wet.

Hole clenching.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

He came again, a pained wrenching of his entire body that had him biting his tongue until he tasted blood. Then Zander bellowed. Scotty whimpered.

And they were all three just lying on that bed, depleted, wrung out.

But so fucking satisfied.