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My heart thudded in response and it felt like my lungs didn’t know how to operate.
Silence greeted us. We had the house to ourselves and it was like the universe held its breath while we figured out how we were going spend the rest of the night.
In the dark, Ciaran said, “Listen, I know I don’t know everything about you, but even I know that cleaning up the yard wouldn’t weigh heavily on your mind, not after everything we did tonight. It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind about us. I’ll understand?—”
I didn’t let him finish.
Stepping away from the door, I leaned in and pressed my lips to Ciaran’s. His exhale of breath told me I’d relieved his source of anxiety. When his arms went around my neck, pulling me into him, I deepened the kiss. My tongue touched his and the fire in my belly reignited.
Growling into his mouth, all I wanted to do was pick him up and carry him upstairs.
Ciaran broke the kiss. “Okay, so you’re not second-guessing this.” He motioned between us.
“No, not for a second,” I said.
“It’s just that, well…” He hesitated. “I don’t have a lot of experience here. Plus, you have a deep history with Joan and Filipe that I’m trying to catch up on, and I guess I’m feeling a bit insecure.”
His honesty was refreshing. I was so used to people lying or masking their true feelings that I didn’t really know how to respond. Hell, I was so used to lying and masking my feelings that I was in complete awe of his willingness to be vulnerable.
That also meant he was trusting me with his feelings, his emotions.
I ran a hand through my hair.
The problem with that was I didn’t deserve such trust.
I was certain I was going to fuck up everything.
“Joan and Filipe are my best friends,” I admitted. We were still standing in the dark, feet away from the staircase that would bring us upstairs to our bedrooms. I’d let Ciaran lead. For as long as he stood down here, I would, too. I think it was easier for him to ask the tough questions in the dark. “In full disclosure, we’ve been intimate—me, Joan, and Filipe, the three of us together. It’s been awhile, though.”
Ciaran was silent for a such long moment that I wondered if I hadn’t already fucked things up.
“I like you, Matty. A lot. But I’m not interested in that kind of relationship. I’m not telling you what to do, because you are free to be with who makes you happy. However, if you plan to continue a sexual relationship with Joan and Filipe, then I have to bow out now, before things get even more complicated.”
His enunciation of the term “sexual relationship” was key here. He wasn’t asking me to break off my friendship. No, Ciaran was listing his boundaries. He would not enter into a romantic relationship with me if I planned to be intimate with Joan and Filipe.
“That’s fair, Ciaran,” I said. “And I agree. They are my best friends, but if you and I are together, then I’d have no reason to go to bed with them. And,” I added as an afterthought, “we wouldn’t join them in any sexual activity, either.”
“So,” Ciaran said, swallowing, “just the two of us? I’m not competing with Joan, Filipe, or Zoey?”
“Just the two of us.” My hand reached out to cup Ciaran’s cheek. It was warm and scruffy. I was desperate to have it scratch my face when I kissed him. “Exclusive.”
I’d never said that to anyone before. I was so used to falling into bed with someone and never once discussing what it might look like later on. That said, most of the time when I went to bed with someone, it was a quick fling.
Everything with Ciaran was different.
Ciaran took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. “Okay. Let’s go upstairs.”
I was short of breath with each step I climbed. Stairs be damned, I wanted to tackle Ciaran right then and there. I couldn’t wait to touch him.
Slow down, buddy, I reminded myself. My stiff cock didn’t get the message in time. It was straining painfully against the fabric of my blue jeans.
Ciaran stopped at my bedroom door, flicked on the light, and peered inside. It was a complete mess. I’d forgotten how much of the clothing and accessories had spilled out into the main bedroom from the wreck of a closet.
“Whoa,” he said. “It’s worse than I remember.”
Several of the rods were completely ripped from the wall, with heaps of designer clothing shamefully lumped in piles on the floor. It’d take an actual handyman to fix the broken rods, and a wizard with wrinkled fabric to restore my suits.
Honestly, I didn’t care.
