On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)

And Blake couldn’t breathe. Watching those two gorgeous men was hot as hell. Watching Jason in between them—his fingers digging into Raoul’s leg, knuckles bleaching above bronze skin, eager lips around that thick cock moving—was mind-blowing.

He was so mesmerized, he hardly noticed the other two breaking their kiss and exchanging a few words. He did notice, however, when Zach reached across Jason to hand Raoul a condom. Their fingertips brushed, and the glance they exchanged was absolutely electric. The conspiratorial glances of two men about to go to town on a third? A telepathic suggestion of what might happen if they found themselves alone together later? Hard to say, but it made Blake’s skin tingle.

“Stop,” Zach ordered. He took his hand off Jason’s head, and Jason sat up. Zach drew him in and claimed his mouth, and Jason was practically liquid in his hands, leaning against him and opening to his kiss.

Meanwhile, Raoul put a condom on Jason, and Blake didn’t know who was more turned on by that—Jason or himself. His temperature soared. His head spun even faster as Raoul lubed up Jason’s cock. Who was about to get fucked? Who was going to call the fire department?

Then Raoul murmured something to Jason, and as Zach let Jason go, the bartender turned around and got on his hands and knees. Jason was a bit wobbly, breathing as hard as Blake was, but he steadied himself and knelt behind Raoul.

Jason glanced in Blake’s direction, and his heavy-lidded eyes seemed to focus for just a second, just long enough for a wink that sent a shiver right through Blake. As Jason shifted his attention to Raoul, slowly guiding himself in and pressing against the bartender’s beautiful ass, Blake held on to the wooden armrests for dear life.

As Jason worked himself deeper, Raoul closed his eyes and cursed. His head fell forward, a few dark curls tumbling over his forehead, and someone groaned, though Blake couldn’t decide who. Raoul must’ve been tight—it took Jason a few strokes to get all the way in—and the two of them may as well have been alone on the bed for all they seemed aware of anything else. Raoul’s eyes were still shut. Jason’s were open, but as near as Blake could tell, they were fixed on his own cock sliding in and out of Raoul. As Jason found his rhythm, he ran his hands up and down Raoul’s sides, and the man arched beneath him.

Beside them, Zach rolled a condom onto his impressive dick.

Oh God. Oh, please tell me he’s . . .

Zach put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. Jason slowed, met Zach’s gaze, and they both grinned. Jason stopped, buried to the hilt inside Raoul and holding his narrow hips.

Oh yes . . .

Zach knelt behind Jason, who leaned forward a little, pushing his knees apart as much as he could in that position. Then Zach placed a hand on Jason’s hip, and this had to be a dream, a fantasy that was so convincing it made Blake believe it was really happening, and he hoped whatever was making him hallucinate like this didn’t wear off anytime soon.

As Blake watched, his heart pounding and his dick unbearably hard, Zach slid all the way into Jason, who whimpered and kneaded Raoul’s shoulders.

Zach took a few slow strokes, and then withdrew part way and gave Jason’s hip a light tap. Eyes closed, Jason pushed himself up, and started rocking his hips. Zach and Raoul were both still, letting Jason do the work. He thrust back and forth, fucking Raoul and riding Zach’s dick. Beneath him, Raoul swore again. Behind him, Zach exhaled.

Across from all of them, Blake still couldn’t breathe, never mind make a sound. Watching Jason fuck and get fucked was unreal.

Jason moaned, thrusting faster. His fingers twitched on Raoul’s hip. Zach ran his hands down Jason’s back, and Jason bit his lip, his rhythm faltering. Then he recovered. Raoul moved faster, complementing Jason’s motions, and after a moment, Zach joined in.

This had to be a dream. Had to be. Getting three bodies to move together was always a challenge, but these guys did it effortlessly, as if they’d done this before. As if they knew everything one might do before he did it.

“Jason, for the—” Blake’s mouth had gone dry. He cleared his throat and managed to croak, “For the record, you’re definitely going first class.”

“Oh fuck . . .” Jason squeezed his eyes shut, lips pulling tight across his teeth. His neck and chest were flush beneath a sheen of sweat, and stroke by stroke, his rhythm was falling apart. If ever there was a moment Blake could be absolutely certain that Jason wasn’t putting on a show, that every feeling he wore on his sleeve was real, it was now.

With a gasp, Jason buried himself all the way inside Raoul, and forced a curse through clenched teeth.

Zach took over. He slammed into Jason, fucking him hard and deep while Jason shuddered and moaned, and then Zach too was coming, groaning as his hips jerked against Jason’s ass.

The dust hadn’t even begun to settle before Zach breathlessly whispered something in Jason’s ear. Jason’s eyes flicked toward Blake. He murmured a response to Raoul, who also glanced at Blake, and then grinned.