“Please,” he said again, sounding far more desperate this time. I smiled against his ear, then sucked the lobe into my mouth as I wrapped my hand around both our cocks and started stroking us.
Travis worked his hips, making his cock slide along mine. I wished I had some lube. I was sure Ambrose had something we could use, but I didn’t want to leave Travis to look for it, so I spat on my hand and made do.
Travis didn’t seem to care. He clung to me working his hips faster and faster. When I knew he was close and keeping quiet was going to be more than he could handle, I kissed him roughly, taking his gasps and cries into my mouth as his cum shot over my hand. His release triggered my own, and I kept up the kiss until we were both completely out of breath. We held each other, both desperate for air but trying not to be too loud.
A few moments later, Travis brushed my sweaty hair off my forehead. I loved his sex-dazed expression and his huge smile. That was exactly what I wanted, for him to remember life could be good, so good. I wanted to give him that feeling every single day. I slipped from the bed and moved silently across the room.
I used muscle memory to find the panel that opened the cabinet, pulled out a hand towel, and wet it from the jug of water on Ambrose’s tiny counter. I wished I could warm it up, but since he didn’t have air conditioning and the fan did next to nothing to cool the room, it wasn’t like the water was all that cold. Still, Travis sucked in his breath when the towel touched his stomach.
I wiped him down and gently cleaned his spent cock, then I took care of myself, reluctantly pulled my underwear back on, and got into bed with him. We were both hot and sticky, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not touching him, so I laid my arm gently over his waist, and he twined his fingers with mine. When I woke hours later to the sound of a car engine, we’d kicked the sheet off in our sleep.
Ambrose appeared, fully dressed, rifle in hand. “Stay there,” he ordered. He must’ve heard the car coming from much farther away. I wondered what time it was. My instincts told me it was still the middle of the night. I pulled out the gun I’d placed under my pillow.
Travis stirred, turning over and blinking sleepily at me. He jumped at the sound of gunfire.
“It’s okay. That was probably a warning shot.”
“Someone’s out there?”
“Yes, but we don’t know who. We heard a car.”
We heard shouting, then Beau burst through the door followed closely by Ambrose. If he’d been anybody else, he would’ve been dead or seriously in need of a doctor, but Ambrose would never hurt Beau. Next to me, Beau was the person he was closest to.
I stood by the side of the bed, wearing nothing but boxer briefs, gun pointed in Beau’s direction. I’d jumped up, ready to defend Travis the second the door began to open. I hadn’t lowered my gun because Beau looked ready to kill. Travis was still sitting on the bed looking back and forth between the two of us.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Beau yelled.
“We came to talk to Ambrose about getting rid of LePlatt.” I did my best to keep my voice neutral.
“Talking to Ambrose doesn’t require you sleeping with my brother.”
“It was dark by the time we finished talking, so it was safer for us to stay.”
“To stay like that? With him in your bed?”
Travis started to protest, but I cut him off. I’d promised Travis protection, and if I needed to protect him from his brother, then so be it. There was absolutely no reason he needed to defend what we were doing.
“He could either sleep with Ambrose or sleep with me. You’ve been here. There aren’t any other beds.”
“You could sleep on the fucking floor.”
“How do you know I wasn’t?”
Beau looked pointedly at the bare floor. I shrugged. “I’ve slept on worse. Who needs blankets in this heat?”
“You’re telling me you haven’t touched him?”
“Enough.” Travis stepped in front of me. I laid a hand on his back, wanting him to know I was there. “You both need to stop talking about me like I’m not here. I’m twenty-three years old, and I can sleep with whoever the fuck I want.”
Beau shook his head. “You might be an adult, but you’re recovering from hell.”
“I’ve been recovering for years. I’ve managed on my own all that time, and I can keep going.”
“You were barely keeping yourself alive before I found you.”
“Alive is alive. I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you telling me what to do now.”