Unwrapped

All he needed was them. Just them. Not trying to be sexy and rev his motor, not putting on a show worthy of a backroom sex shop. He needed to hold them and love them just as they’d given him their love in a million little ways he doubted they even realized.

Tristan swallowed over the boulder that had formed in his throat and glanced at the couch, only to find the action had stopped.

They stared at him, then at each other.

“What’s wrong?” Caity murmured, rising. She threw a worried glance at Matt, who looked just as concerned. “Did we screw up somehow?”

Tristan nodded and did his best to look grave. “Yes.” It took every ounce of his acting ability not to give away the truth. “Time to untie me.”

She hurried to comply, which made a smirk twitch onto his lips. He glanced at Matt, hoping he hadn’t seen it. But Matt wasn’t looking at him. He gazed off into the distance, his jaw locked tight.

“We need to talk,” Tristan began, well aware that he wouldn’t be able to continue this charade for long. “Let’s go in the bedroom.”

If either of them thought that was an odd request, they didn’t argue.

A couple of moments later, Caity and Matt sat on opposite sides of the bed near the headboard. Tristan didn’t sit.

“We know you’ve been upset for a while,” Caity said, intertwining her fingers, then immediately pulling them apart.

“And we should’ve said something. Letting you deal with your folks alone isn’t what any of us signed up for.”

“But we were waiting for you to come to us.”

“Why?” Tristan asked, though he hated to interrupt their fascinating back-and-forth conversation. Somehow he’d missed just how connected they were, like he’d missed so much else. Instead of that making him jealous, he took pride in their closeness. They were a unit, just as he had his own link to each of them.

Somehow they’d built a strong foundation for this crazy thing they’d embarked on, even without knowing they were doing it.

Matt frowned. “Because that’s what you do.”

“Not always. I remember a time when you approached me,” Tristan said, easing a hip on the bed. “Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Matt said, looking adorably embarrassed. In spite of himself, Tristan grinned. He’d never seen Matt on the verge of a blush before.

“Red looks good on you, bro.”

“Shut up, asshat.”

Caity glanced between them, still doing that finger thing. She didn’t say anything.

“And you,” Tristan continued, glancing at her. “You approached me too, that morning when I found your mug broken on the floor. I’m guessing you dropped it because you suddenly got really busy on the table.” At her equally embarrassed face, his grin widened. “You forget I know his moves quite well myself.”

“What’s your point?” Matt asked.

“The point is I don’t need to be kidnapped or tied up or teased. It won’t make me forget that we didn’t bounce off into the sunset after we announced our relationship. Nothing worth having is easy to get, and getting here with the two of you sure wasn’t.” He reached out to stroke Caity’s ankle. “As much as I liked your setup tonight—and hell, I hope we do it again—it’s not what I need right now.”

“What do you need?” she murmured.

Tris lifted his gaze and encompassed them both. “Just us. No games. No ropes, no movies, no toys. I just want the two of you.”

Before they could answer, he rose and undid the buttons of his shirt. He shed it slowly, noting the way the blue of Caity’s irises deepened and Matt fisted the sheet at his hip. His shoes and belt came next, followed by his trousers. As usual, he didn’t wear underwear, which revealed his aching hard-on that much more quickly. The blast of cool air against his stiff flesh nearly made him moan.

He moved toward Matt. “Let me,” he said when his friend’s hand went to his fly.

Matt’s throat jerked, and he nodded. “Go for it.”

Matt wore his usual outfit of faded, ripped jeans and two shirts, this time a thermal beneath a T-shirt that said GEEKS DO IT SMARTER.

This one definitely did.