Three Wishes Read online

His eyebrow rose. “Daisies?” He loved fucking daisies.

  “Yep.” There had to be two dozen of them. “I had to drive all over the island to find them.”

  “They’re beautiful.” He hadn’t seen any in months.

  “I’m glad you like them.” Guard grabbed a vase from the top of one of his bookcases and put the daisies in it, then set it on the table.

  James got himself over to the table. “Everyone seems settled.”

  “Yeah. Williams is a little nervous, but he’s here without his lover. Or so he thinks. The Vicuna and Nedders pair are ecstatic.” Guard sat in the chair next to him, laser-blue eyes trained on him.

  “And our modification man?” He was not going to get hard. Not.

  “Already asleep. There’s nothing for us to do but enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  James nodded, knowing full well his cheeks were burning, damn it. “Grab a plate.”

  “That’s not what I want to grab.”

  “What?” His hands slid a little.

  “You heard what I said.” Guard was looking at his mouth.

  “There’s pizza.” He wasn’t going to do this.

  “I’d rather have you.”

  “When are you going to give up on this?” He was broken. Permanently.

  “I’m going to haunt you when we’re both dead, J.”

  “You two would be happier if you just forgot about me.” He waved his hand. They’d had this discussion before. More than once. “Pretend I’m virtual.”

  Guard growled and grabbed his hand. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of what’s going to make me happy?”

  “Don’t touch me, damn it.” He stared at their joined hands. He couldn’t do this with Guard touching him.

  “Why not? Do you know how much I want to do more than touch your hand?” Guard’s voice stayed soft, the note of pleading in it enough to break his heart.

  “Guard. Don’t do this. We all decided this was best.”

  “No. No, I don’t think we decided anything. You laid down the law. End of story.” Those blue eyes wouldn’t let him look away.

  It was all he could do to gulp in one breath after another.

  “J…” Guard leaned toward him, moving in slow motion.

  “I…”

  The rap on the door was loud, sharp, rattling the house. “Let me in, asshole. I smell pizza.”

  Damien.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him raw.

  He pushed his hair back over his shoulder, looking over the assholes he had the misfortune to be hooked up with. “Guard. Wheels. Que tal?” Then Damien walked over and grabbed a piece of pizza.

  “What are you doing back, man? I haven’t cut you off yet.”

  Damien shrugged at James. “Got bored. Also, the dude who’s into the hard-core mods? I wanted to see the end results. I mean, damn. He’s like a fucking romance novel cover model—perfect hair, perfect skin… That’s deeply fucked up.”

  “If you’re going to have dinner with us, the least you can do is sit like a decent human being.” Guard looked ticked off. Or maybe put out. Or maybe he just needed to get laid.

  “What? I’m not invited?” Damien knew better. James loved him, and Guard needed his ass, his cock, his mouth—all of it. “You got any booze, Wheels?”

  “We’re dry this week, Dame. Sit already.” Guard’s eyes followed his every movement. Oh, yeah, the man was hungry.

  Damien nodded, his ponytail heavy with the damned humidity. James looked exhausted—stupid fuck, always working. “So, tell me the mod fantasy guy I found is perfect.”

  “More perfect than me?” Guard batted his eyelashes and winked.

  “For this job? Yeah.” He blew Guard a kiss, grinned. “Tell me there are cameras.”

  “Damien,” James stared. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Guard just shook his head. “They’re here for their fantasies, not ours.”

  Goody Two Shoes, the pair of them. “Jesus, you two are hidebound.” He took another piece of pizza, munching down happily. He’d been busy—of course, he was already plucking out players for scenarios months away.

  Guard stuck his tongue out and began to eat.

  “So, I’m staying a couple of days, at least. I need to let some things marinate. Can I stay here with you, Wheels?”

  James looked at him. “You have a cabin.”

  “I get lonely.”

  “What am I? Fucking chopped liver?” Guard had stopped eating again to glare.

  “Nope. I was hoping you were fucking James.” Not that any of them had done that in a long damn time.

  Instead of bitching back at him, Guard sighed. “I was hoping so, too.” The man shot James a look.

  “Are we still pretending that we can’t fuck because your legs are messed up?” Damien wasn’t sure if that was it or if it was just Puritan guilt.

  “I don’t know if I would have put it quite like that,” growled Guard. The man was always so protective of James and his shit.

  “No? It’s true.” Hell, he knew. He’d fucked up. He’d been the one who had brought the crazy fucker that had hurt James here. Still…

  “We’ll get there, Dame. You need to be patient.” Guard had more faith than a temple full of monks.

  “I’m right here, you shits!” James was hot when he was mad.

  “That’s what I keep saying.” Guard grabbed James’ hand. “You’re right here and we’re right here and the bedroom’s just over there.”

  “We are not doing this!” Yeah, James was definitely adorable in screaming-idiot mode. Very hot.

  “Why not?” Guard demanded. “I’m not giving up on you, and neither is Damien.”

  James met his eyes, and Damien grinned, chewing meditatively. “I could just blow you now. Derail the whole conversation.”

  “Go for it, J. You remember what his mouth is like.” Guard squeezed James’ hand.

  James’ mouth opened, snapped closed again. “Have you both lost your minds?”

  Damien pondered that. “Not recently.”

  “No. And you haven’t lost any of your appeal, J.” Guard leaned in and pressed a kiss to James’ ear.

  Damien grabbed a third piece of pizza, watching.

  Guard kissed the same ear, tongue snaking out to lick at the lobe. It was the most he’d seen anyone touch James since it had happened.

  James moaned, then wheeled back away from Guard, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

  “Why? Guard wants you. You want him. I have a video camera…”

  “Fuck off, Dame. Either help me convince him or get the fuck out.” Guard could growl when he wanted to, and the man was just as hot as James when he got going.

  “Shit, I’m not going anywhere. Not a chance. This is fucking fun.” Hot.

  Guard rolled his eyes and turned back to James, smiled. “Come on, J. Let’s just put everything behind us and go to bed.”

  “I…”

  Oh, dude. Guard had been working hard. That little hesitation spoke volumes.

  Guard leaned in, slowly. James looked up, hands white-knuckled on the wheelchair. Damien leaned back, watching avidly. It was hot. Really.

  Guard’s phone started ringing, and James’ computer beeped.

  “Shit.” Guard grabbed his phone from his pocket and barked into it. “What?”

  James wheeled over to the computer and started typing.

  Damien? He just grabbed another piece of pizza.

  It was good.

  Fucking good.

  Chapter Two

  Fantasy One

  Thor explored the bungalow he’d been given. It was a pretty simple setup, and if things went well, he might not even wind up using it. Next door should have everything he’d need.

  He moved to the bungalow next to his, where he’d hold court over a gentleman who wanted piercings, tats and body mods in general. Only, the guy wanted to be made to do it. Thor was going to be half artist, half Dom on this one.

  He shrugged. It took all kind
s, and he was getting paid very handsomely to be a part of this. Not to mention that it played to both of his strengths.

  He just had to remember he could do anything he wanted to this guy, unless he heard the word ‘grandmother’. Then everything stopped.

  He turned the light on, finding the place to be one long, inviting room. There was a large bed, chairs and all the tools he could ever dream of needing. Sweet. He wandered around, getting himself oriented. Part sex club, part studio, all private. It was like magic.

  The door behind him opened, a buff little stud peering in. That had to be Benji Waterspoon, the client. His sub for the next five days.

  Thor turned, put his hands on his hips and watched to see what the guy would do next.

  “I… Sorry. I saw the light on.” The man had huge dark eyes, long blond hair.

  Very pretty. Extremely pretty in that not-quite-real way. “That’s okay, boy.”

  Those dark eyes flashed up at him, and he got hard. Damien hadn’t told him the man was fucking beautiful.

  “That’s right, I called you boy. The minute you stepped into this room, you became mine.”

  “I… I don’t…” God, that flutter was hot.

  “My name is Thor, but you can call me ‘Sir’.”

  “Sir? I should… It’s late.”

  “And yet you’re here.” He nodded toward the tattoo chair. “We can start with your first tat.”

  “My first… But I…” The pretty boy took a step back.

  “Either shit or get off the pot, boy.” He snapped the words out. The guy either wanted this or he didn’t. Thor’d know by how he responded right now.

  The high cheekbones turned red and those dark eyes flashed. “I’m not a boy.”

  “You are my boy this week. Mine to use, mine to decorate, mine to tell what the fuck to do.” With every ‘mine’, he took another step toward Benji. “Get in the chair. Now.”

  He could see the effects of his words, Benji’s cock filling in the man’s perfectly fitted jeans. Benji moved away from him toward the chair, shaking his head. Oh, this was going to be a sweet week. He stayed where he was, watching as Benji moved like a dream.

  Jesus, the things they were going to do.

  Benji’s arms wrapped around his own waist, perfect ass leaning on the chair. “I should go to bed…”

  Thor stalked toward the chair. “You should sit, boy.”

  Benji’s ass hit the seat, even as he shook his head. Thor closed the gap between them and fisted Benji’s shirt, tearing it apart, open.

  “Hey!”

  Muscled, tanned, dusted with a light smattering of curls—that chest was a perfect canvas.

  “Gonna have to shave you first.” He grinned. “Gonna have to shave you a lot.”

  “You can’t, though…” Those tiny nipples were hard, a dark spot spreading on the man’s jeans.

  Shit, those denials were sexy. Thor chuckled. “I think you’ll find I can do whatever the fuck I want.” There were cuffs built into the chair for wrists and ankles—he was going to be able to play hard.

  He turned his back on Benji and grabbed a razor, filled a bowl with hot water.

  “It’s getting late—we should talk about this tomorrow.”

  “If you wanted to wait until tomorrow, you wouldn’t be here tonight.” He brought the supplies over to the stainless steel tray next to the chair. Snagging a stool with his foot, he dragged it over and sat. “You’ve heard of Thor’s hammer?”

  “Like the god?”

  “Exactly. I’m going to put the hammer on you.” Right over the man’s left nipple.

  The rules were simple—good, beautiful art on the man’s body, shaving was fine, including head and face, piercings good. He was going to make this man an amazing piece of art, starting with his hammer.

  He grabbed the shaving cream and sprayed it over Benji’s chest.

  This was going to be a blast.

  All Benji had to do was say grandmother and it would stop. That was it. There were sound sensors, security. This guy had been hand-picked, was a professional—drug and disease free, an artist. He was safe. So why the fuck was he so scared?

  And incredibly, hugely turned on.

  “I don’t think this was a good idea…” The first bit of hair came off his chest. He had almost a week here. How bare would he be by then?

  Thor’s lips quirked into a half smile and the man kept shaving. Benji tensed, but he didn’t move, didn’t get up.

  “Just relax, boy. This is the easy part.”

  “I’m… This happened faster than I thought it would.”

  “It wouldn’t be any easier if you waited until tomorrow. That’s why you came over when you saw the light.”

  “I… Why a hammer?” Or was he not supposed to ask questions?

  “It’s my signature—Thor’s hammer.”

  “You’re signing me?” Wasn’t that supposed to come last? The signing?

  “I am. You’re my canvas.”

  Shaving done, Thor wiped his chest down with a towel then ran his fingers down along the area by his left nipple. His breath caught in his throat, and his nipple went rock hard.

  “Someone wants my attention.” Thor’s little finger flicked across the bit of flesh.

  Benji gasped, his cock jerking in his pants as a shot of pure need pounded down his spine. Thor made this rumbling sound deep in his chest, patted Benji’s cheek, then began to gather his tattooing tools. The gun, needles, ink, a couple bottles of liquid, paper towel.

  Oh God. Oh God. His heart started beating. No. No, it started pounding. Slamming in his chest.

  Then Thor settled on the stool, picked up the gun, and turned it on, a low buzzing filling the room. Benji’s eyes went wide. This was where he always freaked out and left. Always. He’d told them that. God.

  He sat up. “No. I can’t.”

  One big hand landed in the middle of his chest and pushed him back. “If you don’t sit still, I’ll use the cuffs.”

  “I won’t let you.”

  Thor just laughed. The sound was deep and rumbling and vibrated its way through him.

  “Don’t fucking laugh at me. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t handle it.” He really was just the pussy boy everyone had always said he was.

  “You’re going to have to.” Thor held him down with that one big hand, the other holding the gun and setting it against his skin.

  “You didn’t even draw it…” The buzz started—so did the sting. Oh.

  “This is my signature—I don’t need to draw it.”

  He gulped in one breath after another, the man putting ink on him. Inside him.

  The outline of the hammer appeared first, and it wasn’t like the hammer he’d been expecting. It was more like an upside down cross. He closed his eyes, shaking, something in the back of his head screaming that he was actually doing this.

  The area over his nipple burned—he couldn’t tell where exactly the gun was hitting anymore. He curled his toes over and over. He was doing this. Oh God. Oh God.

  “Almost done,” murmured Thor.

  “I need to go…” He was aching, shivering, wanting to go jack off in the worst way.

  “You need to sit and let me finish this.” Thor’s dark gray eyes met his. “You can come if you need to.”

  “I… I wasn’t expecting.” God, the man was hot. Really.

  “I was.” The buzz stopped suddenly. “There. Perfect.”

  “I…” He didn’t know what to do. He should just get up. Run. Run to his cabin and lock the door, find a big, fat dildo and fuck himself into oblivion.

  “Antibiotic spray now.”

  He heard a spritz, and suddenly the tattoo was sprayed with a shock of cold.

  His hips bucked, his balls emptying, his orgasm shocking him, wild.

  Thor leaned back, nostrils flaring. The man’s eyes swept over him, taking everything in.

  Benji surged out of the chair—devastated, embarrassed, excited, lost, all at once—and ran for
the door. As he got to the door, a big hand wrapped around his biceps and stopped him, pulled him up smack against the hard chest. Thor’s mouth landed on his, the kiss sudden, hard, all-encompassing.

  Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck yes. He opened up, the hand squeezing his arm feeling so fucking good.

  It was no-holds-barred ownership of his mouth by this man. He cried out into Thor’s mouth, his fading erection making an amazing comeback.

  His back came into contact with the wall, Thor shoving him up against it to grind their lower halves together. His chest burned, but that ache was distant. What he felt the most was the fingers digging into his upper arms, the heavy cock pressing against his. It was hotter than hell, and the temperature was only going up.

  One of Thor’s hands let go of his arm, moving down to grab his cock through his jeans. His hips rolled, moving with a mind of their own, trying to get closer.

  “Still want to go?” Thor asked, staring down at him.

  He shook his head. No. No, he wanted something else.

  “That’s what I thought.” Thor began to back up, dragging him along.

  Where were they going? He followed his cock, needing so bad.

  They stopped at the bed, Thor pushing him down. He bounced, legs sprawling wide. Pushy bastard.

  “Take off your jeans, boy. Show me what else you’ve got.”

  He opened his jeans, eager to get the wet mess off. He knew his body was beautiful. He’d heard it for years.

  “Mmm…sexy little canvas, aren’t you?”

  He blushed, cock bobbing, bouncing on his belly.

  “Get mine out, suck it, and I may let you come again.”

  Now this Benji excelled at. He loved to suck, loved to feel a man’s cock, hot and heavy on his tongue. “Well, come down here.”

  “You don’t get to say what I do.” Thor climbed onto the bed and straddled his shoulders, pinning his arms at his sides. “Now how are you going to get it out?”

  His eyes went wide, and he wriggled, trying to get his arms free.

  “No, no, boy. You’ve got a mouth. Use it.”

  “You…” He bit his bottom lip, trying to figure out the easiest way to do this.

  He could smell Thor’s need, the hard cock pressing against the tight jeans’ zipper. Benji nuzzled the tip, knowing the tiny burn would feel so good. Thor groaned, licked his lips, but didn’t make any move to help him. Benji grabbed the zipper tab with his lips, figuring that would be the easiest part. Hell, he might even be able to get to the man’s cock without working the button.