Broken Pieces Page 107



Josiah felt like he was overheating, his body going haywire, all-systems overload, and he’d never wanted anything more.

“Get on your hands and knees, Josiah.” He did, and Tristan kneeled on his knees in front of him as Mateo positioned himself behind him. Tristan grabbed hold of Josiah’s chin. “Make me come, baby.”

“Tristan...” Josiah whispered. It was the first time Tristan had ever called him anything other than his name.

“I know.” In typical Tristan fashion, he nodded.

Josiah heard the condom wrapper open behind him. All the muscles in his body relaxed, finally running through his head, when he felt Mateo’s lubed finger on his hole. Tristan’s hand ran through his hair as Mateo pushed a finger inside, pumping, twisting and turning before adding another.

“Just take me, Teo.”

“Dios,” whispered past Mateo’s lips, and then his fingers were replaced by his cock as he slammed into Josiah from behind.

He grabbed hold of Tristan, trying to suck him off at the same time, but kept fumbling each time Mateo thrust behind him.

“It’s okay. Just feel what he’s doing and try and match his rhythm. Let him lead your body, Josiah.” And then Tristan’s eyes left him and landed on Mateo.

Josiah did as he said, letting Mateo lead him. Each time he thrust, Josiah let his body move forward, let his mouth suck Tristan.

They found a rhythm together, the three of them all taking their pleasure from each other.

Josiah was already hard again, his passion being kicked up to oh God, I’m going to blow when Mateo wrapped a hand around his erection each time he sank into him, jerking Josiah off.

“I’m so fucking close, mi precioso.” There was a pause, and then Mateo added, “You are so sexy fucking his mouth, Tristan. Dios, you guys are going to make me lose it.”

With that, Josiah did. Semen shot out of him, running down Mateo’s hand. Tristan pulled his hair, his salty essence spilling on Josiah’s tongue. Mateo’s other hand dug into his hips as he groaned, his erection jerking inside Josiah.

Josiah collapsed on the bed while Mateo got rid of the condom.

“Where can I get something to clean him up?” Mateo asked Tristan.

“No,” jumped out of Josiah’s mouth. “Don’t clean up. Just lay with me, both of you.”

And they did, Josiah in the middle of them. He laid on his back, his right leg over Tristan, his left arm touching Mateo. A mass of limbs, weary bodies, sex, and at least from where Josiah was concerned, love.

Chapter Sixteen

Mateo

The next day Mateo told them he had to go home, and Josiah asked him to come back. Before the nausea had a chance to grab hold of him, before he had the chance to say no when he really didn’t want to, Tristan had offered to give him a ride to get a change of clothes.

And he’d said yes.

It went on like that for days. He told himself he still lived at the hotel. Most of his stuff was there, making it so he had to go back every day, yet when Josiah would ask him if he would be back after work, or from whatever he went to do that day, Mateo always said yes.

He didn’t know what was going on but it felt good, and he hadn’t had a whole lot in his life that made his chest swell the way Josiah did. And now...Now it was almost as though that feeling had doubled. Not completely, but Tristan made him feel in ways no one besides Josiah ever had, and he damn sure wanted to hold on to that while he could. Things could change in a fucking instant, and he already had enough regrets to last a lifetime. He wouldn’t have any more.

They hadn’t had sex again, and even though he could tell Josiah wanted to, he didn’t argue when Mateo slept in the spare bedroom. He didn’t want to take over their space. No matter what they shared, he knew that when it came down to it, Josiah belonged with Tristan now, and he’d be there with or without Mateo.

Made his fucking chest feel like it would crack apart, but that didn’t make it any less real.

It was a couple weeks after he started staying with them that he lay in the small, dark room by himself. He’d had a shitty day at work and almost went back to the hotel, but then he’d stepped to the curb to see Tristan and Josiah waiting for him.

Despite all the shit he’d dealt with, getting yelled at by his asshole boss, and a dishwasher problem, his stupid fucking mouth had stretched into a grin when he saw them.

No matter what he’d planned to do, he realized at that moment he would have been miserable if he went to his dingy room alone. No matter what, he wanted to go...home, he guessed. It was more like a real home than he’d ever had. Even when he and Jay lived in New York, things had been so fucked up that he’d never been able to really relax.

Prev Next