“You didn’t seem that worried about scaring her away in your driveway. The fact that she was still willing to talk to you after you—in your own words—accosted her in the sanctity of the classroom? Doesn’t that prove that you’re the one who’s scared, Declan? Not her. Not me. You.”
“Accost might not have been the best word, but it was still irresponsible. She’s one of my students, and because of the subject, I do everything in my power to ensure their privacy and protection, as well as respect their sexual and social mores in—”
“Here we go.” Trick took a swig of champagne from the bottle. “We’re not in a lecture hall now, Professor. You’re talking to me, so talk to me. You always do this. Speak around the issue like I won’t understand what you’re going through.”
Declan frowned. “I do? I don’t mean to.”
“But you always do.” Now Trick was the one pacing. “So tell the truth, now, when you can’t use passion as a cover. I dressed up your crush and served her to you on a pretty platter and it got you so hard you didn’t give a damn about your rules, or even about respecting personal space. You saw someone you wanted and you went after her. The same way you went after me. That’s human. It happens. Get over it.”
Declan accepted the bottle when Trick handed it to him, studying the man he’d known for so long. Loved. He’d been so lost in his own needs and anxiety that he hadn’t wondered how Trick was handling this. He was risking a lot for Jennifer. For the three of them. “You’re right,” he said, his voice calmer now. “I’m sorry.”
Trick’s eyes, so sharp and piercing, looked at him in surprise as he took a drink. “It’s okay,” he finally said. “I’ve had weeks to wrap my head around this idea. Months. I should have talked to you about it instead of throwing down that dare.”
Declan wanted to kiss him. Instead he sighed, thinking of Trick’s association with the Finns. “What about her family?”
“The one that’s overflowing with protective men in positions of authority?” Trick huffed out a laugh and lifted one shoulder. “She’s the baby, and the only girl, so who knows? If and when they find out they might take turns seeing how far they can kick me down the street.”
“And what would they do to me? Someone they don’t know. Someone whose last name is Kelley.”
Trick walked over to him and stole back the bottle. “The Finns aren’t like those assholes. And they’re not going to ‘name a bridge after you’ and drop you in concrete. But even if they were, you obviously don’t give a shit or you wouldn’t have trussed her up and brought her home like a delicious, naked holiday ham.”
“I give a shit.”
“Well I don’t. Here’s what I do care about. She’s here. We’re here. We all want the same thing. And you spend too much time hiding alone with Freud and Jung, convincing yourself you’re a deviant monster instead of a man with a passionate appetite who enjoys exploring his primal side more than most.”
Declan took the bottle, set it down on his desk and reached for the collar of Trick’s t-shirt, yanking him closer. “Says the tough ex con who picks locks for fun and plays at being a sleazy private detective as cover for your high IQ and that secret quest for sainthood.”
“I am a sleazy private detective. It says so on my tax returns. And I’m aiming for brooding vigilante, not saint.” Trick lowered his hand to cup Declan’s balls through his jeans, making him tense. “Either way I’m trouble, and that’s one of the things you like about me. It’s why you let me in.”
“And I’m the deviant who always wants to chain you to my bed so you can’t escape.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Don’t say that.” Not when you don’t mean it. You never stay.
Trick looked into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated.
Declan covered Trick’s hand with his own and pressed. “If you were trying to calm me down so I wouldn’t scare her away, you’re getting a failing grade.”
“Finns don’t scare easily, Kelley.” Trick’s rasp was more pronounced with need. “But we do need to remember to take it slow. Not that she can’t handle it, but she’s never been a part of a ménage before. She doesn’t know how intense emotions can run. She has to be our focus. Her pleasure, our end goal.”
Declan narrowed his eyes. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“It’s from the suggested reading material in your syllabus. Torn Between Two-to-Four Lovers: A Guide to Group Pleasure.” Trick laughed at Declan’s expression. “What? I read, remember? High IQ?”
Damn the man for coming so prepared. Declan sent him a heated look. “I’ll need you.” I always need you. “You’ll need to hold the reins. Pull me back.”