Rolex didn’t break the kiss with Jared, but he tensed just enough to let Tristan know he’d heard.
Hand drifting down Rolex’s abs towards his cock, Tristan said, “You’re not going to fuck him while I watch.”
This time, Rolex did pull away from Jared. Not that Jared minded—he immediately started kissing Rolex’s neck, and Tristan loved the way Rolex struggled to form words. “I’m not . . . you’re . . . Jesus Christ.” He ran his fingers through Jared’s hair and shivered. “So what am I doing?”
Tristan pushed himself up so he was above Rolex. “What are you doing?” He grinned, and Rolex’s eyes widened a little. “Me, of course.”
Rolex blinked, and Tristan thought he mouthed “holy fuck” or something close to it, but stopped caring exactly what he’d said when Rolex pulled him down to kiss him. He’d never actually kissed Rolex like this, and now he knew why Jared loved making out with the guy. Rolex was a hungry kisser, an assertive one—exactly Tristan’s type.
Then Rolex pulled back. “Except if I’m fucking you, what about him?” He stroked Jared’s hair.
Tristan grinned again. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Now, that’s just greedy.” Jared pushed up on an elbow. “I have a better idea.”
“Better?” Rolex’s voice was barely a croak. “Do tell.”
“Well. You”—Jared tapped Rolex’s chest with his finger—“are going to fuck me. But Tristan gets to fuck you.” Jared grinned wickedly at Tristan. “Because that’s the hottest combination I can think of—I get to see both of you come.”
Tristan’s throat was tight, but that was arousal—at the idea, at Jared clearly into it, at finally getting a chance at Rolex’s gorgeous arse. Fucking the guy who was fucking Jared? Yep, that worked. That most definitely worked. He was even willing to give up the best place—the one in the middle—as a thank-you because Rolex had been bloody nice about the whole thing.
Rolex glanced at Tristan. “You all right with that? Because I am.”
“I am. And you’re a bit of a switch, aren’t you?” Tristan grabbed the man’s jaw and kissed him again. “Because I’m really looking forward to fucking you hard.”
Rolex gasped. “I’ll g-get the condoms.”
“Here.” Tristan handed him one.
Jared grinned and picked up the lube. Everything they needed was within easy reach—Tristan and Jared hadn’t only been making out on the bed while Rolex had been gone.
Without a word, Jared lay back on the bed and let his legs fall open, pushing up his hips enough to give Rolex a perfect view of two slick fingers entering his hole. Even Tristan forgot to breathe.
Jared bit his lip and closed his eyes. Whether for effect or out of genuine pleasure, Tristan couldn’t tell, but it gave him goose bumps either way. Few things turned him on like Jared being turned on—totally hard, fucking himself with his fingers, enjoying the hell out of what he was doing and, Tristan guessed, being watched.
“Jesus,” Rolex breathed. With shaky hands, he picked up the lube and started putting some on the condom he’d already rolled on.
Tristan grabbed another condom and tore the wrapper. He’d been freaking out earlier, but now, he was wound up for an entirely different reason. Everything was okay. Hell, better than okay. He was going to fuck Rolex, and Rolex was going to fuck Jared, and . . . and Tristan was going to come before he even put on the condom if he didn’t calm himself down.
He paused for a few seconds to compose himself and then quickly put on the condom before reaching for the lube.
And while he’d been distracted, Rolex had moved. He was above Jared now, Jared’s slender legs parted for the man’s narrow hips, and watching the two of them kiss like that had Tristan spun up just the way he’d been when he’d watched them make out in the limo last time, en route to the hotel for Jared’s spectacular lap dance.
He shivered and tried to concentrate on not spilling the lube anywhere but on his own hand. Easier said than done when Rolex sat up, and when his hand disappeared between him and Jared. Rolex’s hips moved a little, and there was that brief moment of tension as if he’d met some resistance. Tristan’s heart pounded—he knew exactly what that felt like, and he almost groaned himself when Rolex swore under his breath as the resistance gave and his hips slowly slid forwards.
Jared’s hands ran up Rolex’s arms, fingers twitching as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to grab on or just feel him. When his hands came to rest on Rolex’s shoulders, his fingers pressed in, and right then, Rolex started thrusting. Not even thrusting, really, just moving, fucking Jared while Jared used his grasp on Rolex’s shoulders for leverage as he rocked his hips.
Though Tristan had freaked out at the thought of watching them earlier, he liked it now. He loved how their bodies fit together, and hearing the sounds they made as they found a slow, steady rhythm.