anybody could see.
The other couple, and that coupling was well-established when they did everything but fuck right on the patio table, was a bit trickier to get a read on. If you were going by looks, sure Quinn was someone who could take charge and make things happen, but Beach had brought home more than one big and strong man and ended up doing more hard work than if he was with a girl. The connection between Quinn and his much younger boyfriend Eli—that took some figuring. The pale Goth kid had a sweet-looking ass and a delicately featured face under long black bangs, but when he said jump, everyone asked how high.
Case in point, Eli had just sent Kellan and Marco—who was so innocent and childlike Beach had crossed him off the list the minute he saw the doe eyes under the brown curls—into the house to retrieve the desserts Beach had brought along.
Marco was dwarfed by a stack of two boxes, Kellan toting the other three and balancing paper plates and napkins on top. Beach supposed he had gone a bit overboard. But he’d panicked when he realized he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t set off the monitor’s alarms by going into Grand Cru to pick up some wine for a gift.
“What’s in them?” Nate poked open one of the boxes like it had spiders in it rather than six custard tarts.
“Whatever the good people at Le Vol au Vent had left before they closed at noon,” Beach said. “Are you suffering on that gluten-free thing?” Having to give up so much might explain a lot.
“No.” Kellan lifted out a chocolate mousse cake with respectful care. “He’s just a vegetarian. And a pain in the ass.”
“Lucky for you,” Nate got out before his words were muffled. Beach couldn’t quite see behind Kellan’s broad shoulders when he faced Nate, but it sounded a little obscene. Beach hoped the only licking going on was from fingers.
“I’ve some strawberry Jell-O and Cool Whip in the fridge if you want that.” Eli smirked as he sliced the cake.
“Gelatin is from animal hooves,” Nate pointed out.
Kellan took the slice Eli handed him. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Oh, wait. I know.” Marco jumped up and ran to the back door. He returned a moment later with a wizened, spotted banana. “Here.”
“Perfect.” Kellan pulled the cake away and handed off the banana. “There you go, baby. Guaranteed vegetarian.”
A sense of humor to go with a controlling attitude? Beach was definitely hoping he’d been brought here to talk to Kellan.
“You brought all of this?” Marco selected a cream puff from one of the other boxes.
Beach nodded.
Marco squirmed onto his lap, putting the cream puff to Beach’s mouth. “Are you anyone’s sugar daddy right now?”
“Uhmf.” Between the custard and the kiss Marco smushed onto Beach’s lips, it was difficult to answer. He looked to Gavin for help. All the bastard did was smile and shake his head. Beach had trouble picturing Jamie’s sour disposition around this crew. Quinn had dragged Eli into his lap and was being fed chocolate mousse.
“Marco, honey.” Beach leaned back and licked his lips. “I’m afraid you’re—”
“I’m not too young. I’m eighteen.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Beach put a finger to the child’s lips. “I’m afraid you’re too much man for me.”
Marco peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Don’t. No, que . You aren’t gay?”
“I’m flexible.”
“Or as he likes to say, ‘any port in a storm’,” Gavin said.
“Bi pride, dude.” Kellan reached over with a fist bump.
“Oh. Both.” Marco accepted that easily. “So?”
As Beach tried to think of a way to extricate himself with the kid’s pride still intact, Marco wrapped his arms around Beach’s neck. “Can I just pretend? For a minute?”
It was downright heartbreaking. “Sure.” Beach tucked the kid against his chest.
“It’s not so wrong to want to get fucked, right?”
God, Beach had never been that
The other couple, and that coupling was well-established when they did everything but fuck right on the patio table, was a bit trickier to get a read on. If you were going by looks, sure Quinn was someone who could take charge and make things happen, but Beach had brought home more than one big and strong man and ended up doing more hard work than if he was with a girl. The connection between Quinn and his much younger boyfriend Eli—that took some figuring. The pale Goth kid had a sweet-looking ass and a delicately featured face under long black bangs, but when he said jump, everyone asked how high.
Case in point, Eli had just sent Kellan and Marco—who was so innocent and childlike Beach had crossed him off the list the minute he saw the doe eyes under the brown curls—into the house to retrieve the desserts Beach had brought along.
Marco was dwarfed by a stack of two boxes, Kellan toting the other three and balancing paper plates and napkins on top. Beach supposed he had gone a bit overboard. But he’d panicked when he realized he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t set off the monitor’s alarms by going into Grand Cru to pick up some wine for a gift.
“What’s in them?” Nate poked open one of the boxes like it had spiders in it rather than six custard tarts.
“Whatever the good people at Le Vol au Vent had left before they closed at noon,” Beach said. “Are you suffering on that gluten-free thing?” Having to give up so much might explain a lot.
“No.” Kellan lifted out a chocolate mousse cake with respectful care. “He’s just a vegetarian. And a pain in the ass.”
“Lucky for you,” Nate got out before his words were muffled. Beach couldn’t quite see behind Kellan’s broad shoulders when he faced Nate, but it sounded a little obscene. Beach hoped the only licking going on was from fingers.
“I’ve some strawberry Jell-O and Cool Whip in the fridge if you want that.” Eli smirked as he sliced the cake.
“Gelatin is from animal hooves,” Nate pointed out.
Kellan took the slice Eli handed him. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Oh, wait. I know.” Marco jumped up and ran to the back door. He returned a moment later with a wizened, spotted banana. “Here.”
“Perfect.” Kellan pulled the cake away and handed off the banana. “There you go, baby. Guaranteed vegetarian.”
A sense of humor to go with a controlling attitude? Beach was definitely hoping he’d been brought here to talk to Kellan.
“You brought all of this?” Marco selected a cream puff from one of the other boxes.
Beach nodded.
Marco squirmed onto his lap, putting the cream puff to Beach’s mouth. “Are you anyone’s sugar daddy right now?”
“Uhmf.” Between the custard and the kiss Marco smushed onto Beach’s lips, it was difficult to answer. He looked to Gavin for help. All the bastard did was smile and shake his head. Beach had trouble picturing Jamie’s sour disposition around this crew. Quinn had dragged Eli into his lap and was being fed chocolate mousse.
“Marco, honey.” Beach leaned back and licked his lips. “I’m afraid you’re—”
“I’m not too young. I’m eighteen.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Beach put a finger to the child’s lips. “I’m afraid you’re too much man for me.”
Marco peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Don’t. No, que . You aren’t gay?”
“I’m flexible.”
“Or as he likes to say, ‘any port in a storm’,” Gavin said.
“Bi pride, dude.” Kellan reached over with a fist bump.
“Oh. Both.” Marco accepted that easily. “So?”
As Beach tried to think of a way to extricate himself with the kid’s pride still intact, Marco wrapped his arms around Beach’s neck. “Can I just pretend? For a minute?”
It was downright heartbreaking. “Sure.” Beach tucked the kid against his chest.
“It’s not so wrong to want to get fucked, right?”
God, Beach had never been that
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