More by Sloan Parker (best ebook reader for chromebook .txt) 📕

When the agent stopped speaking, he led her out of the house.

I stared at the open door.

Sweat clung to me everywhere. I felt dirty, grimy, sick. I wanted to go home, jump in the shower, and wash it all away. I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until morning.

Was I welcome?

A soft hand landed on my shoulder. Walter stood beside me.

“No matter what you were expecting, it isn't supposed to feel good to help get your own father arrested. But this isn't your fault. He has to live with the choices he made.”

“I guess we all do.”

“Move past this and live your life.” He gave me a slight shove toward the door. “Your men are waiting in an unmarked van down the street. I suggest you go to them. They were quite insufferable. The FBI let them listen in, and I think that made it worse.”

“They came?”

“They called me last night. I arranged it so they could be here.”

I cringed. Knowing they'd heard it all was a relief, but they'd heard my father's threat to kill me. I pictured three FBI agents holding Richard back from storming into the house.

I gave Walter a nod and made my way to the door. I stopped short of leaving. “Thank you. For everything.”

“I told you they'd be good for you.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah. But I'm your friend. I'll only be an ass in ways that won't hurt you. You can count on it.”

“I will.”

The rain had stopped, and the dark sky had lightened with the passing of the storm. A droplet of rainwater dripped onto my head. I glanced up. Another drop leaked from the gutter above my parents’ stoop and hit my forehead. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and descended the steps.

Several police cruisers and unmarked vehicles lined the street. Traffic was blocked off. News vans and camera crews were setting up. Police officers and FBI agents were filing around the yard, moving in and out of the house, searching for any evidence to substantiate my father's confession. Their work wouldn't be over any time soon.

But it all felt over for me. Finished.

I had shoveled the last bit of dirt over my relationship with my parents.

Chapter Forty

I spotted a van with dark windows a few houses down the street. Would Richard be as angry as he'd been in the FBI offices? Would he be able to forgive me for taking on my father?

The back door swung open, and Matthew and Richard leaped onto the sidewalk.

I stopped a few feet from them. Richard's green eyes held my stare.

We didn't move. We didn't speak.

I had done what I needed to, but I wanted nothing more than to go to him, to go home with them, to make love to them.

Matthew's gaze swung between us. I couldn't look at him. Even if I couldn't read Richard's expression, it would all be visible on Matthew's face. I'd see how they had spent the last two days— if they'd spent them talking or arguing, angry or afraid. I'd see how close I was to losing them.

Richard moved fast and grabbed a hold of me before I could take one step to meet him.

He crushed me against his chest. “I'm sorry.” His breath flowed through my hair with his words. “I never should've left. I'm an ass when I don't get what I want.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “You're just figuring this out?”

Matthew laughed. He stepped closer and slipped his arms around us. His dark eyes lit up, delight shining in them again.

Richard huffed. “I didn't really figure it out.”

“No?”

“Not on my own. Matthew's pretty smart. He explained a few things to me.”

I gave Matthew a kiss. “Thank you.”

“You two are the most stubborn men. If I wasn't here— ”

Richard cut him off with a kiss. “Don't even say that.” Then he planted a long, slow one on me. “Come on, Luke. Let's go home.”

I relaxed into their embrace, the fear, the anxiety, the anger washing away.

A car drove by, my mother watching us from the backseat. What was that look? Anger? Criticism? Sadness?

It didn't matter. I was where I needed to be, and Richard and Matthew had me, held between them.

Richard drove home from the FBI field office and broke every speed limit to get there. I sat in the front seat with his hand on my knee. Matthew hadn't bothered with the backseat. He'd climbed in front right after me. He kissed and petted me as Richard drove.

The FBI had kept us at their office for three hours to answer questions and give statements. And I wasn't finished yet. I'd have to return the next day for an interview with an agent from Washington. I didn't care. I was headed home with Richard and Matthew. It was more than I thought I'd have when the day started out.

When we got inside the house, Richard grabbed Matthew and me by the arms and led us upstairs to the bedroom. He pulled me tight against him. Our mouths connected in a scorching kiss. Our tongues wrestled as heat passed between us. I whimpered, the sound lost to his mouth.

“I need you,” he said. “To feel you. To love you both.”

“Oh God. Me too.” Matthew plastered himself to my back. He licked and nipped at the base of my neck. His hard cock pressed against my thigh. I rocked into his touch, my hips unable to remain still between them.

Richard tugged my shirt out of my pants and shoved it off. His strong hands stroked my chest. “Get undressed, Matthew.”

Matthew stepped away and began stripping.

Richard's lips traveled across my chest. He dipped his hand inside the front of my jeans, and his fingers moved over the tip of my cock, teasing me. I threw my head back and bucked toward his hand, wanting more, needing more. I threaded my hand through his blond hair as his mouth worked lower and lower.

Matthew's naked body returned behind me. He wound his arms around my waist.