Gumby stopped just out of reach and crooked a finger. “Come here.”
“You want me to come right here? Really?” Screw shrugged and reached for his belt. “Figured you’d want Jazz here too for the first time, but, you know me, I’m always game.”
With a laugh and a roll of his eyes, Gumby closed the distance and yanked Screw against him. “Fuck, I missed that smartassed mouth. And now I get it back. Whenever I want. Forever.” He grabbed the back of Screw’s head and crashed their mouths together in a kiss that curled his toes and weakened his knees.
Oh, fuck, he was hard as a rock in the airport arrivals lane while his boyfriend rubbed all over him with an equally hard cock.
“Jesus Christ,” Screw said as he gulped in air and tried to ignore the ache in his balls. “Get in the fucking truck, G. We need our girl with us.”
Gumby winked, kissed him once more, then went to stow his suitcase in the back.
Damn, he was glad that man was home.
DAMN, IT WAS good to be back in Tennessee. It’d taken longer to sell his house and share of the business than expected, thus the thirty-day trip turned into forty-five. If he’d had doubts about his triad relationship before leaving—which he hadn’t, but if he had—they’d have flown out the window within the first twenty-four hours.
Being without Screw and Jazz sucked.
“So how’d it go last night?” Screw asked as he watched Gumby buckle his belt.
“It was rough, to be honest. Good, but a little rough.” His club had thrown a huge blowout sendoff party for him the night before. Though it wasn’t customary, or even technically allowed, the club had been beyond cool about him handing over his colors to go live in Townsend.
Next obstacle would be a vote to see if the Handlers would let him in without prospecting. He’d do what he had to, but fuck he wasn’t looking forward to another tortuous prospecting year.
“You having second thoughts?” Though he stared out the windshield and sounded unaffected, Gumby knew Screw’s insecurities well by now.
“Second thoughts? No. Fuck no. Just hard to say goodbye to people I’ve known my entire life. I grew up with a lot of my club brothers.”
Screw glanced his way then reached out a hand which Gumby gladly took. After weeks of not being able to touch, he planned to spend the next few days connected to his lovers in every way.
In a rare display of utter seriousness and sincerity, Screw said, “I hope you know Jazz and I realize the sacrifice you’re making to be with us, and we will not take it for granted.”
He lifted Screw’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “Not a sacrifice.” A tiny whimper from the back seat had Gumby glancing over his shoulder. “Uh, Screw? What the hell is that? Or should I say, what they hell are they?”
With a toothy grin, Screw said, “They are our new guard dogs.”
Gumby laughed as he reached in the back and pulled the box containing two fuzz balls onto his lap. “Guard dogs. Seriously?” He stroked a finger over the soft and tiny head of one puppy then the other.
“We’ll they aren’t guard dogs today, but they’ll grow.” Screw shrugged. “I don’t like it when Jazzy is home alone. Two pit bulls might have prevented Jeremy from breaking into the yard.”
He had a point there.
The three of them had been staying at Screw’s until Gumby left. Now that he’d returned, they planned to look for a bigger house to buy. It’d be nice to know Jazz wasn’t alone in the house on late nights.
“They boys or girls?” One of the puppies was a light gray with a few irregularly shaped white patches, including one around its eye. The other was a light brown with one swatch of white on its chest. “And did you name them yet?”
“Both boys. Brothers. They’re eight weeks old, and I did name them. The gray one is Pitcher and the brown is Catcher.”
Gumby laughed loud, making Catcher jump beneath his big hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
Screw just waggled his eyebrows as his truck ate up the miles to home. Gumby picked up the pups. Each fit in the palm of his hand. He cuddled their warm, wriggly bodies to his chest. Settling back in the seat, he watched his man drive with a smile on his face. In a short time, he’d be home and could focus on building a life with the two people who meant everything to him.
JAZZ SMOOTHED THE front of her form-fitted dress before glancing in the mirror. Over the past few months, she’d been working on feeling comfortable in short sleeves and tank tops. Scars were still there of course. Actually, she had a few new ones due to both Jeremy and Paul, but her men had helped her see that not only didn’t they define her, they didn’t draw stares of disgust and horror like she’d always feared. With the help of Screw, Gumby, and her amazing girlfriends, she’d taken a wild leap out of her comfort zone and began wearing short sleeves at work.