Page 45 of Donovan's Men

Tyson grinned against my lips, then pulled back from the kiss. He winked and headed out of the room—I assumed to the bathroom.

I envisioned him jerking off, but he was back mere moments later with two wet washcloths. I used mine to clean the cum off my hands. Nothing to be done about the rest of the mess, but I’d take care of it once my guests departed. Considering the debauchery that took place in this room, I wasn’t surprised. Although I preferred to mix sex and BDSM in Cole’s dungeon, I’d also brought guys home here for regular hookups. A few had let me tie them up. A fair number had let me gag them. Anything to prevent them from disturbing my tenant downstairs.

Tyson gently pried Hamish’s tight grip from the blanket, and once he exposed the flaccid cock, he softly cleaned it.

Hamish stirred. He cracked his eyes open and met Tyson’s gaze. “I didn’t, uh, tell you I was coming.”

I liked how, when the doc got flustered, he useduha lot.

“I have enough experience to read the signs.” Tyson winked. “I might be a little rusty, but I remember enough.” He leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to Hamish’s lips. “You were magnificent.”

The denial was clearly on Hamish’s lips, but Tyson silenced it—and him—with another kiss.

Hamish offered me a sheepish smile.

I’d returned my cock to my pants.Did he see? Does he want me? Will he give himself permission?I didn’t have straightforward answers to those questions.

Tyson helped Hamish tuck himself in and do up his pants. “You going to be okay to drive home?”

Hamish nodded.

“You need some water or something?”

With a quick shake of his head, Hamish reached for his lukewarm tea.

Tyson swiped it and headed to the kitchen.

Hamish frowned.

“He’s a nurturer. Let him do his thing.” I smiled gently.

“And what are you?”

His question surprised me. It shouldn’t have—but it did. “A commander, I guess. Someone who takes care of his people by ensuring they follow orders. Applying safety to everything they do.” I shifted to find a more comfortable position.

Hamish patted the couch.

After a moment, I moved to join him. I sat beside him, and to my surprise, he grasped my hand.

Tyson returned with Hamish’s warmed tea and handed it to him. Then he took my old seat on the dining room chair.

Hamish pointed to his other side. “There’s room. There’ll always be room.”

Does he realize what he’s saying, or is it just the hormones?

Tyson snagged his bottle of pop and resettled. “Sometimes I just want to sit back and watch.”

I pulled our joined hands to my lips and placed a gentle kiss to Hamish’s knuckles.

His eyes widened.

I made a promise to myself that I’d always show him affection—if he’d let me.

Please, God, let him. I need him to know what he means to me.

We sat, in silence, for a long time. A peace like I’d never known. Just being was enough.

Eventually, though, my guys had to leave.