Page 58 of Donovan's Men

“I couldn’t have said that better myself.” Only the truth—I really couldn’t have.

Hamish swallowed. “I want—” He closed his eyes briefly. But before I could entreat him to open them, he did it. “I want to give Tyson a blow job.” His cheeks went positively scarlet.

Tyson leaned over, grasped Hamish’s cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss. A deep, hot smooch with tongues that had Hamish gripping Tyson’s shirt.

Obviously to pull the man closer—which reassured me.

Simultaneously, both men moaned.

My cock perked right the fuck up. I was so grateful that, with all the arm injury crap, my plumbing still worked.I wonder if Cole’s does as well. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking of him…except I want to see him having what I have.Two incredibly generous and sexy people who cared for him. I dared to hope one day my men would love me as Michael and Caressa clearly did Cole. I shifted.

Tyson chuckled as he pulled back from the kiss. “This turning you on?”

“Hell yes.” I would accept any discomfort to watch these two.

As Hamish held my gaze, he slowly eased away from Tyson. He pushed the coffee table back—thank God it wasn’t solid oak—and then he insinuated himself between Tyson’s thighs.

He was about to kneel when I tossed him a throw pillow.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m notthatold.”

“Fuck old age. I use one.” I considered. “Because I need to protect them, admittedly, but why endure discomfort?”

Tyson laughed. “Somehow I can’t picture you on your knees.”

Hamish cocked his head. “Yes, that’s true.”

They both turned their intense stares on me.

“Hey, I enjoy giving head as much as receiving. Just because I’m a dominant doesn’t mean I won’t take my pleasure where I can get it.” Now was probably not the time to mention I’d blown Cole a few times—as he had me. I might’ve topped him a couple of times as well. Because as dominant as he was—and he exuded the power he carried—I was still top dog in every BDSM relationship I’d ever engaged in.

Tyson cupped Hamish’s cheek. “Are you certain about this?”

“Oh hell fucking yes.” Hamish grinned shyly, removing some of the edge from his voice. He laid his hands on Tyson’s chest, gently encouraging him to sink back into the sofa. Then he trailed his fingers down to the hem of Tyson’s Henley. “I’d like this off. Is it too cold?”

“Babe, you have me burning up.” Tyson bit his cheek. “Too cheesy?”

Hamish giggled. “No.”

Still, I got up and headed for the gas fireplace. Despite knowing the environmental impact, I still liked having one on a cold night. And tonight’s outside chill needed to stay far away from this bubble of intimacy we’d created. I flicked on the fireplace and headed back to the couch.

To find Tyson already removing his shirt.

My mouth went dry. I was surrounded by beautiful bodies all day long. Well, bodies of all types, but certainly some of the most attractive in Vancouver.

But Tyson was in his own class. Solid abs. Silver chest hair that started from his pecs and arrowed down to his narrow waist.

Hamish slowly brushed his hands over Tyson’s nipples.

They hardened instantly.

“You like that?” The man sounded genuinely curious.

“Hamish, I promise I’ll say if something ever doesn’t feel good. But I love having your hands on me. Best feeling in the world.” He cut his gaze to mine. I read the message. That he’d say the same thing to me—if only there weren’t these fucking professional barriers.

Clearly emboldened, Hamish trailed his fingers down through Tyson’s chest hair to his abs. He traced the contours. “You must work out.”

“I do. Keeping in shape is important.”