Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

afternoon.
    "You said it didn't bother you." Rik pointed out.
    "It doesn't." Except that it meant that they didn't need him at all. Not for love, not for sex. They really were all each other needed.
    "Then come to bed with us." Blue eyes glowed effusively. Lars's hand fell on his knee, squeezed. Heat gathered, pooled. "We've seen you looking. You want us."
    He'd seen them looking too. He could retort that the opposite was true, as well. Put them back on equal footing. But…"I told you. I'm not like you. I don't do one time deals. I have to have more."
    Hard as it had been in the past to watch them with other lovers, how much harder would it be if he'd had them? Been with them?
    "Not even as a farewell? After all, you're leaving us anyway." Lars coaxed.
    "Fucking ironic that Kim gets his way more than a year after his death." Rik muttered.
    Dion stiffened a little. He wanted to protest, but couldn't. It was true. Kim had hated Rik and Lars's pretty boy images. He'd wanted a darker sound, a darker look for the band. Mostly, Dion was sure that Kim had seen what he'd tried so hard to hide, that even when he was supposedly in love with another man, he was fascinated by the twins.
    "Don't, please." He put a finger on Rik's lips, nearly snatching it away as the man's eyes blazed at the intimacy. "Don't talk about him."
    "Then make us forget about him. Make us forget." Lars whispered, ghosting his palm up Dion's thigh to cup his groin. He crowed in triumph as he felt the thick hardness there and Dion's resolve weakened.
    Why not? Why not make love with the Sanders twins?
    "Something to remember..." One hot voice whispered in his ear.
    "Us by." The other breathed across his lips. Two sets of hands tugged at his clothes, stroked over his skin.
    "Wait..."
    "No more waiting."
    "We've waited long enough." His shirt was cast aside, his belt buckle undone.
    Yeah...So what if it was only once? He'd have a lot of time on his lonely mountainside in Aspen to replay the memories, to think it through, and as was his wont, analyze it to death.
    CHAPTER 4
    If this was all Dion was giving him, giving them, then he wasn't taking no for an answer. Rik pulled his own blue shirt over his head and cast it aside. With it he tossed the bewilderment, the hurt of the last hour. Time enough to dwell on that when Dion got on that plane and flew out of their lives for good. For now...
    His hand closed over Lars' on the fly of Dion's black jeans, testing the length and strength of the cock that pulsed beneath. Hmmm. Lars was smiling now, and he knew that his brother thought once they had sex Dion would change his mind.
    The power of a good fuck notwithstanding, Dion was one stubborn son of a bitch. He'd fuck and run, Rik knew it. He couldn't protect Lars from the disappointment, he knew that. And he wanted this as much for himself as for Lars.
    Wanted to experience the feel and taste of Dion Fieri, just as badly now as he had as a virginal, I might be bi, I'm not sure teenage boy who was shocked to find himself infatuated with the new kid in school.
    Dion had stopped protesting, his eyes were dark fire, his mouth open and tempting as he breathed harshly into the silence. Fabric rustled. Lars undressed, shimmying out of his ridiculously tight jeans. Any other time he'd have been glued to the sight, but now Dion distracted him, and he knew Lars would understand as he swooped down to take Dion's mouth with his.
    Dion's lips were full, soft, his cheeks and jaw bristled with the heavy growth of beard. The man could shave twice a day and still be delightfully scruffy. Rik smiled softly. The advent of the scruff had been the end of the Goth look for Dion. He'd scowled at his eighteen year old self in the mirror and thrown his makeup away.
    No . He warned himself. No memories. Just...fuck. He bit down into the pillow of flesh. Dion growled. Lars bumped him a bit. They all shifted. He released the hold of his teeth and sucked Dion's lip into his mouth, probed and stroked it with his tongue, sucking. His eyes drifting closed, he lost himself in Dion's hot mouth, in the demanding tongue that poked and prodded at him until he let go, opened up and went from kissing to being kissed. Someone tugged on his pants, his briefs.
    He wiggled a bit, dueling with Dion to regain dominance of the kiss, relishing the fight Dion put up before ceding him access. The cool wash of air-conditioned air over his naked flesh brought goose bumps to the surface and he shivered a