Put a Ring on It (13 page)

Theo kissed him. “I promise.”

THANK GOD
Kieran didn’t have any food allergies. Theo had had to tell the caterer to take the basket of rose petals back out, but the rest of the delivery and setup was faultless. Stuffed lobster warm in the oven; oysters, champagne, and salad chilled in the fridge; and their kitchen island had been transformed with a linen drape, crystal, and gleaming white service for two.

Kieran had been right to suggest dinner at home. They hadn’t had any time, really, to celebrate with just the two of them. Theo checked his phone again—Kieran was supposed to text when he got to the lobby—and then wandered into the bedroom and bathroom to rearrange the votive candles a few more times.

Theo’s life couldn’t get more perfect. Martin had heard from other investors after the GMA appearance. No commitments yet, probably because they were waiting to hear if anyone big was going to back it, but that would come. Once Kieran had survived the interview, he seemed much more relaxed. They could totally do a beach wedding. Cherry Grove on Fire Island early in August. Kieran would want to keep things small, and the ferry and the limited accommodations would accomplish that.

By summer, Jax and Gideon and Dane would have gotten used to the idea. Theo knew they weren’t done trying to interfere. Gideon had unsuccessfully tried to haul Theo out to lunch today, no doubt with fresh arguments stored up in that lawyer-sharp brain.

Would Theo have been that protective and cautious if one of them had planned to take the plunge first? Dane had been with Spencer for ten years, but there’d been no ceremony. Spencer had his own interests, his own friends. They didn’t function as a unit. That wasn’t going to be the way things were with Kieran and Theo. But that didn’t mean it threatened the bond the four of them had.

He wished Gideon had found someone by now. If not anything permanent, at least someone to care about him, someone who gave Dane a little competition for ownership of Gideon’s heart.

Theo nudged the last candle into balance and scrolled back through the texts he’d exchanged with Kieran that afternoon.

You were awesome today, baby.

Thanks. We still on for dinner?

Absolutely. Just you and me.

Great.

Text when you hit the lobby.

I will. Got something special in mind?

Definitely.

Mm. Can’t wait.

While he was reading, the phone buzzed again.

In the lobby. Got the mail.

Theo grinned. Kieran must have broken a Manhattan transit land speed record. Taking one more glance around, Theo switched off his phone and left it to charge. The dizzying rush, the sizzle of anticipation, it was something Theo had never found anywhere but the theater. But instead of the moments ticking down to curtain, now the buzz in his head was focused on waiting to hear that door open. For Kieran.

And he got to keep this. They could have this every day, for the rest of their lives. A solid promise with rings and a certificate spelling it out. A way to show the whole world what they meant to each other.

Just when he thought he couldn’t get any sappier over it, Kieran slipped in and hung up his coat. It was crazy. Stupid. But that one tiny thing tipped everything over, like an orgasm of feelings, and there was no way to keep it in.

Theo crossed the space between them in a blink, grabbed Kieran’s shoulders, and kissed the fuck out of him. Kieran wobbled, mumbled something about a boot, then groaned and kissed back.

The jolt reverberated down Theo’s spine as he inhaled. Kieran. His breath. His taste. God, this was what he needed. He swayed a little, gripping Kieran’s ass.

Kieran made a sound like a laugh into Theo’s mouth. “Hungry?”

“Definitely.” Theo squeezed.

Kieran pressed his dick into Theo’s thigh. “Me too.”

Theo started to step back, to pull Kieran toward the candlelit bed, but Kieran grabbed a fistful of Theo’s shirt and held him there for another kiss.

He was going to go out on a limb and say Kieran was really glad that interview was behind them.

The hand not twisting the soft poplin slid down between them, palming Theo’s dick. God, Kieran’s hand was hot. Two hard strokes through Theo’s jeans and there wasn’t a lot of blood left in his brain.

The last few drops rushed to throb thick and heavy in his cock as Kieran’s fingers worked the button and then the zipper. “Want this.” Kieran slipped his hand inside, traced the vein pumping so hard. “In me.”

Kieran’s fingers feathered back to play with Theo’s balls, and being horizontal couldn’t wait anymore. Theo caught himself on the edge of the linen-draped island, wishing he had a dining room table instead because Kieran would already be on it, legs around Theo’s hips, ass tight on his dick.

With that image in his head, he missed the exact choreography that had them kneeling on the floor, Kieran yanking Theo’s jeans and briefs to his thighs. His palm slapped against the cool steel of the refrigerator as Kieran dove for Theo’s dick like a starving man.

Denim pinned him, held him for the fever-hot dip into Kieran’s mouth. A shudder jerked him forward, seeking a little more heat, a little more pressure.

Kieran cradled Theo’s ass, urging him forward. He hung on that delicious balance of being bound but still in charge. Kieran’s throat was there for Theo to take, even if the jeans kept him from spreading his legs as wide as he wanted. Kieran focused on the tip, full, delicious suction and his tongue under the rim. Theo tightened his muscles to hold back on the wave that threatened to rise up too full, too soon. He rode it out, hanging on to the pleasure and burying that urgent need as Kieran lifted his head.

“Don’t want to spoil your appetite?” Theo smiled and swept a hand through that silky, thick hair, the untamable shock of it from forehead to crown. He could play with it forever, the texture so perfect, prickly and soft.

Kieran yanked his polo shirt over his head and peeled down his slacks. The impediment of his remaining boot flew over Theo’s shoulder to land near the entry. And then there was a naked-but-for-socks Kieran climbing onto Theo’s lap to rub their dicks together, Kieran’s voice rough in Theo’s ear.

“Fuck me.”

The flash of heat in Theo’s dick shorted out his brain. “Yeah.” Okay. Fucking. Needed…. Kieran slid back and dragged Theo on top of him. On the floor. The tile was cold on Theo’s knee. Right. He had a bed. And candles. And champagne.

Kieran kicked Theo’s jeans farther down his legs, hands digging into his ass to grind them together.

“Now.” Kieran backed up his demand with hard, wet bite-kisses on Theo’s neck, a steady rock of his hips to create an even more distracting friction.

No champagne or oysters. Only them. But—

“Want you, Theo. Please.”

“Okay, baby.” Because Kieran never asked. And Theo would have cut off his balls if Kieran requested them in that raw voice.

Theo shifted one hip onto the icy slate and kissed Kieran while stroking over his balls and lower, finger tapping on the satiny dent where his dick wanted in. God, yes. All that texture and heat on him. Bare like he’d never had with anyone else. Never trusted with anyone else before.

He pushed, and Kieran jerked.

Right. There was another big reason why the bedroom was better than the kitchen floor. Lube.

Theo toed his jeans off the rest of the way, then shifted to get up, and Kieran clung hard.

“Where are you going?”

“C’mon. Bedroom. Lube.”

“No.” Kieran’s hands bit into Theo’s shoulders, hips arching in a rough grind.

He’d never seen Kieran like this. Never seen a desperation to keep Theo with him. As if they were about to be separated instead of celebrating the promise of forever together.

Theo kissed him, poured all the reassurance and love he could manage in the movement of their mouths together. Instead, the bruising force of Kieran’s response infected Theo with the same frantic need.

“Okay, okay.”

Kieran slapped at the cabinet at the base of the island, then pried it open. “Oil’s good.”

This was crazy. Rolling on the kitchen floor, rooting through the cabinet—sesame? olive? peanut?—Theo shook his head. And then he was going to cook with it next week and not think of Kieran pawing at him between the fridge and the island.

Grapeseed. That didn’t have a smell. Theo dragged it out from the back of the cabinet. Feeling ridiculous had given him a chance to catch his breath. He offered a cautious kiss, thinking one of them ought to keep his head.

“What’s gotten into you?” He smiled to soften the words as he coated his fingers in the oil, then moved to kneel between Kieran’s thighs.

Kieran threw his legs over Theo’s hips. “Hopefully you.”

It should have been funny. And the lack of inflection was in Kieran’s usual dry style. But his voice. God, Kieran’s voice. Torn. Wrecked. From needing Theo?

His chest split open, aching to his spine with the effort to answer that need. “I’ve got you, baby.” He stopped caring how absurd they must look and drizzled oil below Kieran’s balls, rubbing it into his crack, using a thumb to press in, just a little, sinking into heat, the resistance from his muscle making Theo’s dick throb with want.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Kieran hooked his calves to pull himself closer, forcing Theo’s thumb deeper, face going tight, tighter than the grip of his body.

“Wait.” They didn’t do this a lot. Theo still wasn’t even sure Kieran liked bottoming, and the last thing Theo wanted was to hurt him.

“No.” Kieran slammed himself forward. He grabbed Theo’s shirt again, tugging him down. “Just fuck me.”

The vise around Theo’s thumb eased, and he worked it a little, earning a groaned “Yeah” from Kieran.

A little fingerfucking and Kieran started to twist his hips and whine, grinding onto Theo’s hand.

“More.”

Theo switched to two fingers, the glide of the oil so different from lube, more friction, more—sweet Lord—texture, and all of it waiting for his dick.

“Yes.” The sound hissed between Kieran’s teeth. “Now.” He reached for Theo’s shirt. “Skin. Want to feel you.”

Theo slicked his cock with his oily hand, quick, tight strokes to bring him up to throbbing again.

“Theo.” Kieran whispered it again and again, like it was the only word he could remember, and in it, Theo heard what might never be easy for Kieran to say. That he was happy. That he believed in them. That he loved him.

Kieran yanked and pulled, and Theo’s shirt buttons flew, pinging against tile and wood and steel.

A blast of heat washed from Theo’s balls to his dick, pearling drops from the slit. Having his shirt ripped off was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. Until he pressed in, felt the muscle, give and resistance, anticipation and reward. This. This.

He lifted Kieran’s hips, shoved in deeper, the shudder and clench from Kieran’s ass echoing from Theo’s dick right to his spine.

Slick satin rubbing and pulsing all over his cock. He had to pound into it. Hard. Fast. Spill everything into that sweet pull of
in
.
In him.

Kieran’s nails scraped Theo’s chest. “Move. Theo. Move.”

“Got to let me, baby.” Theo tilted Kieran’s hips, leaning forward to brush a kiss on his jaw, then under his ear. “You’re so tight.”

Kieran’s breath, humid prickles of it, panted against the side of Theo’s neck. A hiss, a hitch, and Kieran shuddered, the pressure on Theo’s cock shifting, welcoming, and Theo drove in deeper.

Theo sealed their mouths together, passing a groaned yes of satisfaction between them. His fingers dug into Kieran’s hips, holding him open, holding him at the angle that made them both keep whispering that word.

“Yes.”

The rhythm was perfect. Kieran shoved a hand between them, fingers stroking his balls, knuckles adding pulses of pleasure as they pressed into the space above Theo’s dick.

Every time it was this good. Better than he remembered. Always so good with Kieran.

That was why Theo had done it all. His hips moved faster. For this. Because mine. He had to show it. Prove it. The ring and the champagne and the candles and the
ring
. All of that. So Kieran would know. Because Theo couldn’t lose this.

“Yes.” Kieran breathed it again, fed it into Theo’s mouth with his tongue, body pliant, open.

He wouldn’t lose it. Which was suddenly the worst possible thought at the worst possible time, because he lost something else.

It wasn’t as sudden as the last time. No complete shutdown. But he’d been so fucking hard. So desperately hard that the skin on his dick was drum tight. And now it just wasn’t.

He tried for the rhythm again and got nothing, no buzz, just a dull pulse, like a brownout.

And any second Kieran was going to notice.

Theo jerked his hips back, crouching to slide his fingers, two then three, into Kieran’s ass, then slipped lips and tongue around his cock.

“Theo, what—God. I wanted—”

“Can’t suck you, then.”

Kieran groaned and twisted as Theo rubbed and pressed and sucked.

Theo hummed approval in his throat, and Kieran’s hands landed in his hair, tightened, twisted.

“Fuck, I’m—” Kieran yanked, hard enough to hurt, but Theo stayed with him, sliding up to focus sensation on the tip.

Kieran’s ass crushed Theo’s fingers just before the first spurt hit Theo’s tongue, and a wave of relief washed through him that was almost orgasm sweet in intensity.

Which was when his dick started pulsing in exactly the right way again. He kissed Kieran’s softening cock, licked the last few drops to make him shudder. When he moved to mouth his way up Kieran’s chest, an eye-watering yank in Theo’s hair froze him to the spot.

Had Kieran noticed?

“The ring.” Kieran’s voice was still sex rough. “S’caught.”

“Oh.” Theo reached up to try to loosen the curl.

“Let me.” Kieran tried to sit up, and they bumped foreheads. “Or not.”

“Here.” Theo held the ring between two fingers. “Slide it off.”