Richard had shown up for us. For him. He wasn’t getting out of this. This shit was getting resolved now. I couldn’t keep watching them do this to each other.
Kalin tipped his chin up angrily, tears still streaking down his cheeks. “Let me by, Spike.”
“No, baby.” I rested one knee on the bed, crowding into his space. Richard was right, even if he’d gone about this all wrong. Invading Kalin’s personal space wasn’t okay, but Kalin was headed down a dark path of self-destruction, and I’d never let him destroy himself. He could be angry with Richard all he wanted, but we weren’t letting him go deeper into his misery than he already was.
“Let me go!” he yelled at me, even going so far as to pound his fists against the mattress.
There was our brat baby.
“No,” I said again. I gripped his throat and gently eased him back so he was lying flat on the bed. I hovered over him, softening my grip on his throat so I could stroke my thumb along the column of his neck. He trembled, his eyes closing as another tear streaked down his pretty face. “You can hate him all you want, but he’s not going anywhere.”
“I’m not,” Richard confirmed, coming to sit beside us. He cupped Kalin’s damp cheek and turned Kalin’s head to face him. Kalin hiccupped as he opened his watery eyes. Leaning down, I soothed my lips over his ear, then his hair, hoping to calm him. “I’m here, little one. No more hiding. No more keeping you two in the dark.”
“I don’t believe you,” Kalin croaked.
Richard sighed but nodded. “I figured you wouldn’t,” he said quietly. “But that’s okay. I’ll prove it soon enough.” He stroked his thumb over Kalin’s cheek, wiping some of his tears away. “Will you let me and Spike take care of you? Please, little one.”
Kalin stubbornly set his jaw. “No sex.”
“No sex,” I agreed, looking at Richard, who also nodded in agreement.
“Just a shower and then cuddles,” Richard promised. “You both have had a long few months, and I know you’re tired. Just let me take care of you two. Please.”
Richard rarely ever had manners, honestly. He ruled with an iron fist and never did or said anything he wouldn’t back up one hundred percent. Sorry wasn’t typically a word in his vocabulary. Please certainly wasn’t. But Richard was a completely different man when he was with us.
Kalin sniffled and looked at me. Leaning down, I smoothed my lips over his, and fuck, the way he deflated beneath me, the fight draining out of him, did something funny to my insides. I was so wrecked for him. Always fucking had been.
“Okay,” Kalin whispered.
I got up from the bed at the same time Richard did, then stood back, watching as Kalin stood. As soon as he was on his feet, Richard tugged Kalin into his arms and held him tightly. Kalin sank into him, burying his face in the curve of Richard’s neck. I moved closer, pressing the front of my body to Kalin’s back. Kalin made a soft sound in the back of his throat, and his right hand moved back, his fingers curling into the soft fabric of my sweatpants.
“You good, little tiger?” Richard asked softly, his left hand coming up to cup my cheek.
I nodded, leaning my face into his touch. “I’m okay,” I promised. And I was. This was all I’d wanted—him to show up and show out for Kalin. I’d always known Richard would come out to the world about his relationship with us on his own time. I had endless patience. But Kalin was a lot more fragile than I was. Whereas what we’d gone through together had hardened me, it’d done the opposite for Kalin.
Kalin felt everything so deeply. There was no in between for him. No soft spot for his feelings to land. He felt it all one hundred percent.
“Let’s go get a shower,” Richard said after a moment.
He grabbed Kalin’s hand and tugged him toward my attached bathroom, where I followed. I worked on stripping out of my clothes, then turned to face Richard and Kalin. Richard’s heated gaze raked over me, making me flush. He blew out a soft breath, then focused back on Kalin, helping Kalin get his shirt over his head.
I understood how he was feeling. It’d been months since we’d been together in any kind of intimate way. Kalin and I had always had each other, but neither of us had Richard during that time, and he hadn’t had us either.
“I got him,” I told Richard. “Undress and get the shower going, will you?”
Richard nodded. Before he backed away from Kalin, he kissed Kalin’s forehead, then tenderly cupped his cheek, running his eyes over our boy’s face for a moment before he began unbuttoning his shirt.
“You good, baby?” I asked Kalin as I began unfastening his belt buckle.
He just shrugged one shoulder. He wasn’t crying any longer, but tiredness was etched into his features. His bloodshot eyes weren’t really focusing either, a sure sign he was minutes away from crashing. Between his emotional upheaval and months of touring with little to no break, Kalin was at his limit.
This shower was going to have to be quick.
As I undressed Kalin, I took a moment to admire his body, all the lean muscle and tattoos randomly splattered across his skin. Kalin was beautiful—a true work of art. I wanted to drop to my knees and worship him, but he couldn’t handle that right now, and I wouldn’t ignore his request for no sex.
He wanted intimacy—the kind of intimacy that wasn’t found in sex. And I intended to make sure he got what he needed.
Turning to the shower, I stopped for a moment, admiring Richard. I’d seen him naked numerous times before. But fuck, his bronze skin, that perfectly styled hair, and all those muscles… He never failed to damn near make me drool. For a man in his forties, he still looked damn good enough to eat.