Tag Team (19 page)

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Authors: S.J.D. Peterson

BOOK: Tag Team
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Max’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile but to Mason’s relief moved closer to the webcam and tilted it up so only his face was showing. “I’m not home.” He looked away toward something off-screen, and the smile that he’d been trying to hold back spread wide across his face at whatever he was looking at. “I had kind of a late night,” he said smugly when he turned back to face Mason. “So about your amazing day?” he prompted.

“We can talk about it later,” Mason assured him. “I’m in a really good mood, so no worries. Go have fun.”

“He just started breakfast so we have time. Now spill it,” Max demanded.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?” Mason bargained.

“I forced myself out of a very warm bed, which, I may add, had a very, very hot man in it, and rushed to take a shower so I could chat with you, so if you don’t start talking I swear to fuck I will come through this screen and paddle your naughty ass.”

“Promise?”

“Mason,” Max said warningly.

Mason held up his hands to show his surrender. “Okay, okay,” he giggled and leaned back in his chair, taking the laptop with him. He spun the office chair around, propped his feet up on the guest bed, and adjusted the screen so Max would get a full view of his face. “What was the question again?” Max raised one brow, and his smile turned into more of a snarl. “Oh yeah, right. My awesome day. I think I’ve overcome the next big obstacle. You know, how we were talking about my attraction to Rig and Bobby and how I felt like I was cheating?”

“Yes.”

“Well….” Mason’s face heated and warmth rushed to his groin as he thought about the shower he’d taken with Bobby and Rig. “I was sort of kind of jerking off in the shower and Rig came into the bathroom and caught me. Then he was in the shower with me and Bobby showed up and he ended up on his knees and….” Mason scratched at the stubble on his chin; his hand trailed down his neck, and he rested it against his chest. He could feel the flutter of his rapid heart beneath his palm. Just the memory of it filled him with pleasure. “Afterwards I waited for the guilt to knock me on my ass, but Max, it didn’t and it still hasn’t. I’m totally fucked up. Defective, aren’t I?”

“Why do you think that?” Max asked.

“Well, because I should feel guilty, shouldn’t I?” Mason shrugged one shoulder. “I mean, I haven’t been with anyone besides Gregory and Charles in over twelve years. They were pretty possessive of me and after just a couple of months I’m not with one but two men and Christ, Max it felt so good and they care about me so much, and I just want to let them hold me and love me and….” Mason looked down at his hand and picked at a hangnail on his thumb while taking in a couple of deep breaths before returning his gaze to Max. “I’m not sad when I’m with them,” he quietly admitted. “It’s like they touch me or look at me and the sadness and pain just flies out of me. I think about them all the time and I’m even starting to dream about them instead of Gregory and Charles. That’s just… it’s just… wrong.”

“Does it feel wrong, Mason?”

Mason shook his head and whispered, “No, but it should.”

“Why should something that obviously has you smiling and happy, be wrong?”

Rage at Max’s calm, quiet voice reared up so rapidly and so unexpectedly it caused Mason’s head to spin. “Because the men I love are dead,” Mason spat angrily. “I’m not supposed to be fucking happy.” Just as quickly as it came, the anger flowed out of him and he slumped back in his chair, dazed. “I’m sorry,” he said dejectedly. “I have no idea where that came from or why I said that.”

“Because you believe you are supposed to behave one way, and your head and your heart aren’t playing along with this methodized notion you’ve determined is appropriate,” Max said evenly. “Mason, we all grieve at different rates. There is no preset time frame that works for everyone.” Max cocked his head and a muffled voice could be heard through the speakers, but Mason couldn’t make out what was being said. “I’d love one,” Max called out. He turned his attention back to Mason. “Sorry, I haven’t had my coffee yet,” he said with a lopsided grin that made him all the more handsome and sweet looking.

“It’s okay,” Mason promised. “It’s not like I can fire you or refuse to pay you as punishment.”

“Very true,” Max chuckled. “Hold on one second and I promise you will have my full attention for the next thirty minutes, okay?”

“Sure.”

Max sat back, and long thin fingers wrapped around a white mug appeared on the screen. Max accepted the coffee with a thank-you. Mason didn’t miss the way that Max’s finger brushed along those fingers as he took the mug, nor did he miss the way Max’s eyes sparkled and the beautiful smile that curled Max’s full mouth. Whoever was standing just out of view was one very lucky boy because Mason had seen that look on a man’s face before. Max was totally smitten and, Mason would wager, hopelessly in love.

“I’m all yours,” Max said and blew into his mug.

“I highly doubt that,” Mason teased. “I’d say whoever just handed you that cup of coffee might have something to say about that.”

“So, about Bobby and Rig,” Max said, ignoring Mason’s jab, but the way Max’s eyes shifted to the right and the expression that briefly crossed his features as he watched the other man walk away told Mason how right he had been. Max took a sip of his coffee and set it aside. “You know, with Bobby and Rig around,” Max said, steering the conversation away from him and back on Mason. “It’s almost impossible to feel sad for any length of time. They are good men, and you can’t help but feel good with those two bastards around.”

Mason felt some of the tension and worry seep from him. “It is difficult for sure. It’s like they just swept in and took on this broken man and they aren’t expecting anything in return.” Mason shook his head. “Who does that, Max?”

“Bobby and Rig,” he said without a hint of doubt. “I’ve known them for many years, and I can’t think of two better people to have taking care of you than them.”

“I’m worried I won’t be able to give them anything in return,” Mason admitted sadly.

“They don’t expect anything in return. So you stop worrying about tomorrow or the day after. Enjoy your time with Bobby and Rig and enjoy this new found peace and happiness.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Mason tossed back.

“It is,” Max said adamantly. “You’ve had to learn the hard way that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. You have to ask yourself, is finding someone who is willing to bring you a little happiness, no matter for how long or how brief, really such a bad thing?”

Even though the answer popped into Mason’s head immediately, he had to analyze its significance, turn it over and over, and look at it from different angles before he could answer honestly. “Why do you always have to be right?” Mason groaned.

“Because I’m your big Dommy head shrink, as you have so fondly referred to me,” Max reminded him. “It’s my job to always be right, or at least guide you to find the right answer on your own.”

Mason briefly thought about flipping Max off but thought that might be wildly inappropriate and settled for sticking his tongue out instead. He’d grown to care about Max as a real friend, appreciated everything he did for him, but fuck could the man be infuriating sometimes. Mason had no doubt that had Max been his Dom, Mason would have his ass beaten every day because he simply couldn’t help pushing Max until that adorable frustrated growl rumbled up from out of his massive chest.

“Fine, my issue with whether or not I should feel guilty is settled.” He glanced down at his watch. “We have exactly nineteen minutes to fix my anxiety over the fact that Rig and Bobby want me to go grocery shopping with them today. Maybe even stop at the local flea market, and honestly? I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“So you had an amazing day and now you have a day that pushes your limits. I’d say Rig and Bobby are brilliant,” Max said slyly.

“Tell me again why I talk to you,” Mason grumbled.

“Do you feel like you’re about to have a panic attack? Any racing heart, shortness of breath, tingling or numb fingers or toes?” Max asked clinically.

“No.”

“Nausea, unexplained trembling, profuse sweating?” he added to the list.

“No, no, and no. What’s your point?”

“I’d say you’re perfectly healthy and should go to the grocery store, and if any of the above symptoms begin to make you feel uncomfortable, go sit in the car until they are finished with their shopping.” Max held out his hand, palm up. “That will be two hundred dollars please.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” Mason sniffed. “And I’m damn sure not paying you to tell me to sit in the fucking car. Where did you get your license anyway? Quacks-r-us?”

“Same time tomorrow?”

Mason bit his lip to hold back the grin that threatened, flicked his wrist daintily, and rolled his eyes. “I’ll be here. Now shoo, go play with your new toy. I have serious things to do.” He picked up the laptop off his lap and turned, sitting it on the desk. “Go sit in the car, he says. As if,” Mason grumbled under his breath but made sure it was loud enough for Max to hear him. Mason was proud of the fact that he was able to keep the aggrieved look on his face when he was fighting back a fit of laughter.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” Max said confidently. “And give those two old brilliant bastards a hug for me.”

The screen went blank, and Mason powered down the laptop and closed it. He headed out to where Bobby and Rig were sitting on the couch chatting, waiting for Mason to finish his call with Max so they could head into town. Mason jumped over the back of the couch and landed between the two men. He leaned over and kissed Rig on the cheek and then Bobby. “So what’s the plan for the day? I vote for staying here and playing Monopoly.”

“Wow, someone’s in a good mood,” Rig pointed out and ran a finger down the back of Mason’s neck, causing him to shudder. “Good chat with Max?”

Neither man ever asked him about what he and Max spoke about, but Mason could tell they were curious. They seemed to sit on pin and needles, waiting to see if they were going to need to hold him together or if a happy man, like the way he felt now, would emerge.

Mason hummed contentedly and pushed into Rig’s touch. “Yeah, it was a good chat. Max is a very sexy man when he’s naked.”

The finger against Mason’s neck stopped, and he felt Bobby stiffen next to him. “Max was naked while chatting with you?” Bobby said through gritted teeth.

“Well I can’t be sure, I only saw him from the waist up, but….” He lifted one shoulder and struggled to keep the teasing tone out of his voice. “If I had to guess, I’d say yes.”

“Son of a bitch,” Rig growled so low Mason barely made out the words.

Mason coughed to cover up his snort of laughter at the irritation rolling off Bobby and Rig. Christ, they weren’t only protective of him; they were possessive as hell. A tickling sensation started in Mason’s belly, and he realized it was Rig and Bobby’s reaction that caused the pleasant flutter. He liked the fact they felt possessive of him. “Well, I don’t know if his mama is a bitch, but from the way he was looking at some man just off camera, I’d wager he wasn’t thinking about her or anything he’d want to share with her.”

The finger on Mason’s neck slid up, and then his head was being pulled back by the fist in his hair. Rig leaned in close, the look in his eyes predatory. “Are you trying to rile us up?”

“Maybe,” Mason replied coolly, but he felt anything but. The glint of danger in Rig’s dark eyes, the slight pain along the back of his scalp, and the way Bobby moved just a bit closer and grasped Mason’s thigh sent heat rushing through his veins, converging in his groin and causing his dick to swell.

“I think someone is begging to have his naughty ass spanked,” Bobby mused.

Mason looked between them and let out the grin he’d been holding back. “You know, that’s kind of funny. Max said the same thing. So about that game of Monopoly?”

A rumbling sound moved up Rig’s chest. “I’m hungry.” He looked Mason up and down and licked his lips. The desire rolling of Rig in waves caused Mason’s mouth to go dry. “There is no food in the house, and if we have to go into town, your naughty little ass is coming with.”

The hand on Mason’s leg moved higher, and he could feel Bobby practically vibrating next to him. The thin material of his shorts was not enough of a barrier to hide his very hard, very erect cock. It was on the tip of his tongue to beg Rig to kiss him. Plead with Bobby to keep moving his hand higher, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“Fine,” he conceded, a little breathless, and pried the hand from his hair and stood, needing a little space between them. Later, he’d try to figure out what the fuck was holding him back from dropping to his knees and giving in to what he wanted. But right now, he couldn’t think when they were so damn close to him. When they were touching him, when he could smell them and feel the heat of their bodies. Mason looked down at the way his shorts tented obscenely.
Yup, that’s who does all the thinking when those brilliant bastards are close.
With a huff he stomped to the front door. “I’ll go, but I’m sitting in the car.”

Chapter 18

 

R
IG
watched Mason out of the corner of his eye as they moved along the produce section of the local food mart. When they’d pulled into the parking lot, there had only been two other cars, but it still took a little urging and bartering, which included promises of full-body rubs and games of Monopoly, before Mason had agreed to come in the store with them.

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