Tomas was just wrapping up his last email—helpfully flagged by his adorable assistant—when Mason and Vinnie strolled in, seemingly in the midst of an argument.
“You have to be out of your mind if you think the new trilogy is as good as the old trilogy,” Vinnie said, shaking his head at Mason, who stomped his foot and planted his hands on his hips.
“They’re different, but yes, I think they’re just as good. Plus? Chris Pratt. Very attractive.”
Vinnie rolled his eyes. “The original trilogy were cinematic masterpieces.”
“Really?” Mason said, scoffing. “I’ll give you the first one, but the second and third?” Before Vinnie had a chance to answer, Mason whirled on Tomas. “Daddy, tell Vinnie he’s wrong and that theJurassic Worldtrilogy is just as good as theJurassic Parkone.”
Tomas held in his laugh, but only barely. “Not happening, changuito. The only time I’m willingly getting in the middle of you two is when you’re on your knees sucking my dick.”
He said the words offhandedly as he finished shutting down his computer and pushed his chair back. But when he glanced up, he caught the two of them looking at each other and smiling.
Refocusing on him, they came around his desk and sank to the floor in the space he’d just made between himself and the desk.
“If you insist, Daddy,” Mason said, voice husky with arousal.
Vinnie leaned his head against Mason’s, giving him the perfect view of them together. Gorgeous bronze and striking alabaster. “Please?”
How could he say no to such perfection?
“Are you ready?” Tomas asked, watching Vinnie carefully.
His kitten slowly raised the kickstand of his new motorcycle, keeping it balanced beneath him. “I’m ready. You’ve made me practice for a month.”
Because there’d been no way he’d let Vinnie risk hurting himself.
Mason tightened his arms around Tomas’s waist and said quietly, “He’ll be okay, Daddy. Trust him.”
He trusted him—it was everyone else on the road he didn’t.
He fired up his Harley, keeping an eye on Vinnie as they eased down the driveway next to each other. When he’d brought up riding with him to his boys, they’d come up with the idea that Vinnie would get his own bike instead of him and Mason having to switch who rode with Tomas.
He’d hated the plan at first.
Vinnie had never been on a motorcycle before, and yet he’d wanted Tomas to let him fly down a back road by himself?
They’d convinced him it was the best option so all three of them—the Sexy Tripod, in Mason’s words—could experience riding together. Had he held his breath every time Vinnie had practiced in the club’s parking lot ever since the weather had gotten warm enough and he’d demanded to be taught?
Yes, of course.
But he wasn’t completely unreasonable.
He didn’t think any amount of time on the back of his Harley would make Tomas completely comfortable with Vinnie pulling onto the road ahead of him and leading the way. But he did it, and pride surged through Tomas as he pulled up next to him.
Both his boys had full helmets on—and thick jeans, leather jackets, and sturdy boots—so he couldn’t see Vinnie’s face as they sped up, heading away from Ridgewood and out into the country.
But he could see him raise his fist in the air and imagine hiswhoopof joy.
Every aspect of his life was better, thanks to Mason and Vinnie, and he wasn’t surprised riding was as well. But he hadn’t anticipated just howgoodit would feel, cruising down the road with the wind whipping past them, Mason pressed up close behind him and Vinnie just to his right.
He hadn’t known what he’d been missing before, not really, but now he knew he’d fight to keep his little family together. Whatever it took. He loved his boys, and they loved him.
Everything else was just icing on top.
