“Slow down,” I protested laughingly. “I could barely even see the girls on that page, you whizzed by so fast.”
But Mace was still intently flipping through different kinks, blue eyes gleaming. And suddenly, he stopped. And once I saw what he was looking at, I stopped too. Because he was on a page for gay dudes, where guys kissed passionately before getting down.
“Um,” I said, trying to joke. “I think you’re on the wrong tube. This is for gay guys.”
My friend was silent behind me, his hand suddenly falling away.
“Mace,” I drawled again. “Any channel. Seriously, any channel, but this is for dudes, not for us.”
He turned away, the expression on his face tortured. And suddenly, the big man swung back to face me, blue eyes blazing.
“This is what I want,” he ground out, devouring my frame. “This is what I want.”
And suddenly, I realized why my friend had been unhappy all these years. Because he was closeted. He’d been sating himself on woman after woman, in fact he’d just licked the juices from a strange female fifteen minutes ago. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more, and right now, he was telling me that that “more” was me.
I sat back, meeting his gaze fully. Because sure, I’ve had thoughts. What human being doesn’t? When you’re presented with a specimen as fine as Mason Major, you acknowledge that the Lord has been kind. You acknowledge that there is a god, that this six foot four slab was a gift from Heaven. So I stared back at him questioningly.
“This is about something else, isn’t it?” I asked slowly.
My friend looked away, the muscle in his jaw tight, big body strained. But then he turned back to me, eyes blazing.
“Derek, shit, I don’t know what to say,” he said in a low growl.
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Can I ask you to be more specific?” I drawled. “There’s been a lot going on lately. I mean, we just tied up a girl and tasted her, she’s still in your office.”
That was true. We’d undone Katie’s cuffs, letting her into the private en suite, affording her a hot shower and a place to clean up. But still, what we’d done was pretty rancid, pretty fucking ballsy.
That dark head shook furiously again.
“It’s that, but it’s also,” he rasped, the look on his face troubled and torn. So I stepped out of character, taking a big, warm hand in my own.
“Tell me,” I rumbled, expression calm. “Tell me what it is.”
Mason didn’t answer for a moment, just staring at our entwined fingers. Even I admit, it looked a little weird, both our palms huge, square, the fingers interlocked. But the thing is there was something right about it too. There was something that was curiously fitting about us linking physically, about reaching out and touching one another. Sure, guy code was being broken, men aren’t supposed to touch one another, especially not in the way we were doing now. But it felt right and looked right, so what was wrong with that?
Mason merely stared more, unable to speak, so I tried again.
“What is it?” I rumbled, linking our fingers more tightly. “What is it?”
And he jerked his hand away suddenly, stalking across the room to drop into a couch, that big frame folding in on itself.
“I can’t, I can’t,” he rumbled, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t.”
This was out of character. My buddy isn’t outwardly aggressive most times, that’s true, but at the same time, he isn’t a coward either. He’s not the type of guy who crumbles in defeat in the face of opposition, so I was surprised to see him in such despair.
“Yo, you okay?” I asked, getting up and sitting next to him on the sofa. “What is it? We’ve done some fucked up shit, that’s for sure, but this isn’t more fucked up than the time we tied up Shirley Magnussen back in college.” Oh yeah, Mason and I have done this before, we’ve shared women, we’ve brought girls to screaming orgasm again and again, begging us for more. The difference was that this time, Katie hadn’t exactly asked for it. We hadn’t checked with her first and gotten her okay, but it’d be fine. Soon enough, the brunette would be begging us for more, her consent just a matter of time.
“Come on,” I tried again, reaching for his hand. “We’re in this together,” I soothed, “things will be fine.”
But this time Mason jerked his hand away, refusing to look at me before swinging around, that bright blue gaze fixing me in place.
“That’s the thing,” he said, shaking his head, an alpha in the depths of confusion. “You’re always with me, Derek. Always.”
I looked at him puzzled.
“I thought you wanted it that way. You know, bros before hos and all that. I thought you wanted my help,” I said slowly.