“That’s not a horrible idea.” Foster took another drink of his wine and started toward the living room.
“You need a vetting process,” I suggested. “I know I don’t have ownership over you, but I wouldn’t want you running off with just anyone.”
“Who is running off?” Rich asked from the couch. He’d already made himself at home and gotten comfortable, Sam perched beside him in jeans and a light pink t-shirt.
“No one,” I said, giving Foster a gentle push into one of the armchairs.
“Did he talk to you?” Rich arched a brow and raised one of his legs, resting his right ankle on the top of his thigh. His socks matched Sam’s shirt, and Sam reached out, settling his hand on the smooth leather of Rich’s dress shoes. The man was always well dressed. I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever seen him in anything more casual than slacks.
“Is this a setup or something?” I asked, joining Kevin on the other end of the couch. He leaned against me, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like I could breathe. Even though things between us were unsettled, we were strong, of that I was certain.
“Foster clearly needs an intervention.”
I rested my head against Kevin’s shoulder and closed my eyes. My own relationship needed an intervention, and I didn’t have time to deal with someone else’s crisis, no matter how near and dear they were to me. I wanted to finish the conversation Kevin and I had started over dinner. I wanted to take apart his brain and find the truths of his desires so I could use it all against him to make him come.
“He just needs to get fucked,” Kevin offered.
Without opening my eyes, I reached over and pinched the inside of his thigh. He groaned and grinded his ass against the couch.
“Is that what you need?”
“That’s all anyone needs,” Sam said softly.
“So.” I peeled my head off Kevin’s shoulder and turned toward my friends. “What brings the three of your around tonight?”
“They’re dragging me to Rapture,” Foster complained, “but they won’t let me play.”
“You’re careless when you get like this,” I reminded him, and he pursed his lips, leveling an unamused look across the room at me.
I’d known Foster for years. He and I had been friends, and then lovers, and then friends again. It had never seemed to bother Kevin that Foster was still around, and I was thankful for the trust he put in me…in my friends. Everyone whom I’d known first and introduced to Kevin loved him. Everyone Kevin had introduced to me…not so much. Apparently, it was perfectly acceptable to be a masochist, but not a sadist in love with a masochist.
Go figure.
Someone’s phone vibrated and Foster let out a loud breath, fishing his phone out of his pocket and glancing quickly at the screen.
“Everything good?” Rich asked.
“Yeah.” Foster schooled his expression. “I just have a work thing.”
“It’s after eight,”
“Overtime.” Foster stood up and poured the rest of his wine down his throat, giving me an apologetic look. “Sorry to drink and run.”
“You’re fine,” I assured him. “We’ll talk soon about your problem.”
Foster saw himself out and as soon as the door closed, Kevin turned to face me. “You could, if you wanted.”
“I could what?”
“If you wanted to play with him.”
My skin prickled and I threw a quick look over Kevin’s shoulder to Rich and Sam, who had suddenly decided to busy themselves with each other and not with me.
“We aren’t talking about this right now,” I said under my breath, grabbing Kevin by the face and pressing a kiss against his lips.
“Later then?” he asked against my mouth.
“Later.”
