Coal to Diamonds (7 page)

Bobby rested on his elbows, Cole lay on his side, and Cam sat with his ankles crossed. Darius Thorn, in his oriental silk robe, black with embroidered silver dragons, propped himself on several pillows and appeared to float. They all stretched their legs inward like the spokes of a wheel, their feet meeting in the center. A tray on the floor held all of their favorite things: caviar for Cam, medallion steaks for Bobby, and good Scotch and a Dominican cigar for Cole. They picked at the food as Thorn regarded them over the rim of his wine glass.

“Isn’t this cozy,” their host said silkily. “Just like old times.”

Cole snorted. “We’ve only known you six months.” Thorn had moved to town not long after Cole, Cam, and Bobby had celebrated their Beltane rites. Since no one ever moved to Greysport and few were lucky enough to leave it, Thorn’s arrival stirred gossip and speculation in the small community. Everyone wondered how he’d afforded the renovations to his home. Even Cole still didn’t know.

Darius Thorn was not a beautiful man. He was thin like Cole, with none of Bobby’s strength or Cam’s fluid grace. A star-shaped patch of wiry black hair between his nipples showed where his robe gaped. His face reminded Cole of a crow with its hooked nose, slight overbite, and shrewd black eyes. His white teeth were too long, and flashed when he smiled. Coarse black hair met at a slight point in the center of his forehead and feathered out over the tips of his ears. But when Cole had first seen Thorn, browsing the shelves of oversized art books in the library, he’d wanted to yank the man’s charcoal trousers down and kneel at his feet. He’d wanted to immerse himself in Thorn like a dying man who’d discovered a desert pool. His heart had somersaulted when Thorn looked up from the Caravaggio portfolio he held and smiled at Cole. All of Cole’s instincts told him this man would be his teacher, the one to polish and refine his skills. Watching him now, Thorn’s intense, supernatural sexual pull almost distracted Cole from the danger of the evening’s work. Part of him, a large part, missed the late-summer nights when the smell of cut grass wafted in the study window and the four of them twisted together among the cushions.

Thorn sat up, the wiry muscles over his sternum popping. Merlot stained his thin lips. He reached over and slid his long fingers inside the leg of Cam’s loose jeans. Cole hoped Cam wouldn’t flinch, and Cam didn’t disappoint him. He even brushed his fringe out of his eyes and smiled at Thorn.

“This is nice, isn’t it, Cameron?” Thorn asked again. “You’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

Cam nodded and sipped some chardonnay. The way Cam’s eyes glistened, Cole couldn’t be sure it was all an act.

“We belong together,” Thorn said. “I’m so pleased the three of you can see that now.”

Cole didn’t trust himself to speak; he was too nervous, angry, and conflicted. The way Thorn had put his hand on Cam’s ankle, like he owned him, made Cole want to leap over the heap of cushions and choke him. But at the same time, he wished it was his ankle Thorn held.

Luckily, Bobby, with his courtroom finesse, broke the silence. “I can only suppose Fate had a hand in our meeting. I don’t think it could be coincidence that all four of us ended up in such a small town within a few weeks of each other.”

“Magic is drawn to magic,” Thorn said. He slipped his hand further up Cam’s leg. “The three of you needed a teacher, and Fate provided me. Our Cole wants to argue, to say there’s no order to anything, but I’m not of a mind to fight. I just hope I won’t have to deal with any more juvenile rebelliousness from you boys.”

They shook their heads, gazes cast down, and Thorn continued. “That’s good. You hurt my feelings very much when you walked out on me at Halloween,” he said with a false pout and simper. Then his demeanor changed. He narrowed his eyes and seemed to gather the shadows around himself like a veil. “You’re young, so I’ll allow you one indiscretion. But disrespect me again and there will be consequences. The art requires discipline, after all.”

“Don’t worry,” Cole said, though he disagreed with that too. All one needed was instinct and will. “We’ll do what must be done.”

“I want you to move in here,” Thorn said. “All of you. So I can monitor your instruction more closely.”

They nodded when they would have normally protested. Too much compliance, too easily, could make Thorn suspicious, Cole thought. He was a very shrewd man. He only looked a few years older than the three of them, but Cole suspected otherwise. So Cole said, “It will take me at least a few weeks to get out of my lease.”

“You can stay here while you handle it,” Thorn said.

“I suppose,” Cole answered.

“Good, then. Good. Another drink for everyone.” Thorn poured red wine for himself, white for Cam, and Scotch for Cole and Bobby. They reached to the center of their circle and clinked their glasses together. Outside the snow swirled and drifted on the windowsill. The cry of the wind sounded almost human.

Thorn set his glass on the parquet floor behind him and clasped Cam’s knees, then pulled Cam forward through the stack of soft, overstuffed pillows and onto his lap. Cole and Bobby sat on either side of him. Thorn, though he didn’t look strong enough, lifted Cam easily by the waist so Cam straddled him. He brushed the hair away from Cam’s neck and kissed him behind his earlobe and along his jaw. He plunged his hands under the waistband of Cam’s loose jeans and closed them around his cheeks, kneading the trim muscle. Blond hair shielded Thorn’s pointed face as he nipped and suckled Cam’s delicate skin. Cam’s soft moans sounded both aroused and sad. Tentatively, Cam lifted his hands and touched the sides of Thorn’s hair lightly, as if his head was on fire.

Thorn pulled his hands out of Cam’s pants and grasped his wrists. He wrenched Cam’s arms around behind him and pinned them against his lower back. Cam thrashed, twisting his slender waist. Thorn squeezed harder and bit the edge of Cam’s ear. A high-pitched cry escaped Cam’s lips. Thorn pulled Cam closer, pressing their chests together.

“Darius—” Cam pleaded, darting his gaze from side to side. All of them, Thorn included, knew Cam was terrified of being restrained from some past incident he didn’t care to share. Cam’s fear made Thorn grin sadistically and thrust his groin upward.

“Quiet, Cameron,” he whispered. “Show me you trust me.” He smashed his mouth into Cam’s, swallowing Cam’s cries as he ground against him. When he finally released Cam’s wrists, it was only to peel his blue cashmere sweater and linen shirt over his head. He returned to Cam’s beautiful body, nipping here and sucking there, until a necklace of elliptical bruises decorated Cam from one end of his collarbone to the other. “Stand up,” he said after he withdrew his vicious lips, and Cam obeyed.

Thorn yanked Cam’s jeans to his ankles. All of their shoes, as Thorn always insisted, had been left just inside the front door. “This won’t do,” Thorn said, clucking his tongue against his teeth as he inspected Cam’s flaccid penis with a clinical detachment. To remedy the situation, Thorn rubbed Cam’s length with the heel of his hand until it started to expand. He rose to his knees to get a better grip and kissed the diagonal muscles of Cam’s waist, then dragged his lips up the rungs of Cam’s ribs as he stroked him.

On his hands and knees, Cole crept up behind Cam and laid a hand that he hoped was comforting on the small of his friend’s back. He rubbed his cheek against the downy hair that covered Cam’s perfect ass. It was the oddest sex Cole had ever had. He felt like he was performing to please an audience rather than himself or his lover. But Cam’s skin felt so warm and soft that he wouldn’t have to pretend much longer. Already his cock swelled inside his tight black pants. He watched Thorn tug the head of Cam’s penis, chafing the fragile skin. Cam’s breath shuddered.

“Use something. You’re going to hurt him,” Cole said.

An arctic glare silenced Cole, and he turned his interest back to Cam’s ass, trying to ignore the slap of skin on skin and Cam’s gasps. All three of them had known going in that their endeavor against Thorn might cost them. Each of them expected to bleed, from one wound or another. If it didn’t get worse than this, they’d be lucky. But it would be the last time. Cole would kiss away Cam’s friction burns as soon as they got back to the cabin and into the one bed they’d made from three. Aloe and clover oil, combined with a healing spell, would ease the discomfort. Cole still had the recipe for the ointment his grandmother had put on his skinned knees.

For now, Cole would keep up appearances. He clutched Cam’s cheeks and eased them apart as he felt Bobby’s nails graze his scalp. Cole felt Bobby’s presence blocking the draft from the curved window behind him as he dropped his face toward Cam’s crevice. Burrowing in, he pressed his nose against the knob of Cam’s tailbone and inhaled his familiar musk. He ran his tongue in long, slow strokes from Cam’s bobbing balls, over his wrinkled opening, and back. He let his saliva flow over Cam’s crack. Then he pressed the tip of his tongue against the ring of muscle, waiting for it to yield. Cam relaxed, and Cole slid his tongue into him. He slipped it in and out, trying to match Thorn’s speed. As he did, he felt the first droplets of precome moisten the inside of his pants.

Trembling with bliss, Cam threw his head back and muttered, “Oh my God, Cole. So good. Oh, Cole!”

Infuriated at hearing Cole’s name on Cam’s lips before his own, Thorn wrenched the slender man to the floor by his hips. A chill hit Cole’s damp face where Cam’s heat had been. He tumbled forward and caught himself on his hands. Bobby collided against his back. That need in Cam’s voice resounded in Cole’s mind. Even with everything that was happening, Cam wanted him. Despite his pain, Cam had relished Cole’s touch.

Thorn wouldn’t allow them their love. He didn’t mind the three of them having sex; in fact, he often enjoyed watching. But, in a childlike way, he had to feel like the favorite. The unity between Cole, Cam, and Bobby posed too great a threat. Their power was too terrible when combined.

Thorn seized a handful of Cam’s hair and jerked Cam’s head downward. He untied his silk robe to reveal his erection. Thorn’s cock, like the rest of him, was long, slender, and almost sharp-looking. Still holding Cam’s head, Thorn leaned back and propped himself on his elbows. Cam gagged the first three times Thorn thrust into his throat, but then he settled into a steady rhythm. Cole saw Bobby ball his fists at his sides. Both of them tried to be gentle with Cam, especially since he’d been so ill-used by others.

“Watch your teeth,” Thorn whispered savagely. He stared up at Cole, then at Bobby. He wanted them to recognize what he was doing: taking their precious thing while they watched, helpless.

Cam retaliated the only way he could. He scrambled from his belly to his knees, raising his ass and spreading his legs in invitation. Cole looked longingly at his pink crack and wrinkled opening at the center as he stood up and stripped. After tossing his dark clothes along the wall of the round room, Cole knelt down behind Cam. He stroked the sides of his thighs, raising gooseflesh. He danced his nails lightly along the buttons of Cam’s spine. Then he reached underneath him and caressed his ribs and belly. He loved the hair that meandered down from Cam’s navel, loved the furrow between his stomach muscles. He loved his round ribs, and how his waist tapered beneath them. Before he knew he’d done it, he mumbled “God, I love you, Cammy.”

In response, Thorn hauled Cam’s head forward and thrust up at the same time. Cam’s nose squashed against the patch of black hair that Cole knew from experience felt bristly and hurt one’s skin. Thorn’s eyes met Cole’s as he pushed deeper into Cam’s throat. A muffled gurgle and choke could be heard over cadenced slurping. Thorn’s face expressed no trace of pleasure. He watched Cam labor like he was reading a newspaper, his lips slack and eyes disinterested.

Cole bit his lip to keep any more impulsive declarations of love from spilling out. When this was over, he could shower his lovers with all the affection he wanted. Now he had to perform. He spit on his palm and rubbed his length, moistening himself. Then he positioned the head of his cock just outside Cam’s hole. If only he had something to ease the entry besides saliva! Cole really didn’t want to hurt Cam. The edges of Cam’s anus still looked swollen from what they’d done on the couch the night before. It felt puffy and soft where Cole’s cockhead pressed against it. But it glistened from Cole’s earlier kisses, and Cam pushed back against Cole.

“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered.

The memory of that perfect fusion made more blood rush to Cole’s erection. It throbbed; the skin stretched so tight it hurt. Cole grasped himself and squeezed his head in his fist, milking a few pearly drops from his little hole. With his thumb, he spread the fluid over his darkening member, lubing it up as best he could.

As gently as possible, Cole pressed into Cam until their balls bumped against each other. A pleased, grateful sound, dampened by Thorn’s cock, rose from Cam. Cole buried himself and then waited, feeling Cam’s muscles clench him in erratic spurts. If only they were somewhere, anywhere else! The sweltering pressure felt exquisite, and Cole wanted to return the favor. He enjoyed giving pleasure as much as receiving, and he adored watching Cam in the throes of ecstasy. He liked the noises Cam made, and the way his whole body shook just before he came, as if every cell of his body danced with delight. Most of all, Cole liked knowing he’d caused Cam’s rapture. As much as he wanted to reach underneath and stroke Cam, feel Cam’s hot seed explode against his palm, he didn’t want to accelerate the irritation caused by Thorn’s rough jerks. So instead he touched just Cam’s slit and swirled the precome around the ridge where the head met the shaft.

Cupping both of their balls in one hand, Cole slid in and out of Cam. He adjusted the angle of his penetration, watching Cam’s reaction carefully each time he shifted his body. With attention to detail and care, he could make Cam orgasm this way, even barely touching his cock. Cole watched for Cam’s back to arch, listened for the familiar purr in his throat that would tell him he’d hit Cam’s spot. When he saw the signals, he made sure his cock hit Cam’s gland with each stroke. If Cam leaked, Cole used the moisture to touch him delicately, lavishing attention on the sensitive groove on the underside of his penis.