“But it’s okay if I’m blunt with you, Richie, isn’t it? I don’t know how else to be, we’ve known each other a long time and you deserve honesty.” Craig shared a glance with Ben over Richie’s shoulders. He’d developed a rather smug, satisfied smile. “We don’t advertise the fact we fuck. But we don’t get possessive, you know? I’m certainly not the type myself. We don’t get jealous if either of us—”
“Or both,” Ben whispered.
“—want to play elsewhere. We just enjoy what suits us both, what makes us both happy.”
“And that includes wanting you,” Ben added.
Richie’s mouth dropped open. Craig’s hand was tight on his shoulder, with the confidence of a firm masseur. The flesh of his palm was warm, and—as Richie despaired of ever thinking sensibly again—it was all very, veryseductive.