Drew raised his hand to knock on the door. He was shaking, and it had nothing to do with the cold. He’d showered. And shaved. Not just his face. Put on his nicest sweater. His tightest jeans. Hadn’t been able to find matching socks, but hopefully Asa wouldn’t notice.

Idiot. He’s not going to fuck you. He’s taken. Committed. And even if he offered, you wouldn’t, because you’re not a home wrecker.

God, what kind of world was it where he couldn’t have Matt Bomer or Asa Lindeman? Or anyone?

He replayed over and over the moment he’d called Asa sir. It had just slipped out, but it had felt…right. And the way Asa had responded. Leaning over him, his voice smooth and just a little bit dark. “Actually, Drew, sir is perfect.”

Why? Why was it perfect?

He raised his fist but couldn’t make himself knock. Shit. He needed to get a grip. He was going to spend the evening with Asa, and he was going to try his best to have fun.

He would have fun, because he’d get to listen to Asa’s voice, see Asa’s face…

Hang out with Asa’s partner.

He closed his eyes briefly. This was gonna suck.

But at least he’d be around Asa. After tonight, he’d be able to fuel his jerk-off sessions until at least New Year’s.

Drawing together the tattered edges of his nerves, he knocked.

* * *

Times like this, Asa especially appreciated Javier’s easy ability to make conversation. Javier’s humor was dry, but he never seemed to put others off like some sarcastic people Asa knew. Generally speaking, Asa liked talking too. But tonight, all he could do was stare at Drew across the table and think, He has a Fetlife profile. He’s TheSacramentoSlut.

Except in every interaction he’d ever had with Drew, Drew had been so appallingly, adorably tongue-tied, as nervous as some trembling little woodland creature exposed to a predator. That impression jarred with the guy who put himself out there on Fetlife. Or maybe Asa had spent so long imagining Drew as a babe in the woods that he’d managed to overlook anything that didn’t fit the mold. Drew’s bursts of confidence in staff meetings. The way he’d pushed his ideas forward for the Princess Me Yogurt campaign—because what the world was lacking was a yogurt marketed entirely to tween girls, apparently. The way he flirted with the redheaded guy from the courier service. Had Asa underestimated him this whole time?

“Cazuela de ave,” Javier said now, in response to Drew’s question. “It’s a Chilean chicken stew. Asa doesn’t like too many jalapeños in ours, though. My mama’s cazuela would blow the top of his head off.”

“Has done,” Asa confirmed with a quick smile.

Javier returned the smile. His was tinged with faint regret.

The in-laws. Asa liked Javier’s parents a lot. They were warm, friendly people. Except for the past eight years they’d referred to Asa as Javier’s friend. Javier bridled every time they said it, so it was up to Asa to pretend it didn’t bother him, that it wasn’t worth making a fuss over. If the euphemism was what they all needed to keep Javier’s parents in their fragile state of denial, then it was only semantics. Not a lie. Not a sacrifice. Semantics.

“Where are you from, Drew?” Javier asked.

Asa watched Drew’s gaze latch on to Javier’s, then drop, then lift again. Drew was flushed. His pale skin showed everything. Asa would love to make marks appear on it. He imagined rope burns around Drew’s wrists, handprints on his chest, and stripes on his ass. Imagined the way Drew would shudder and moan as Asa touched the welts, making his muscles twitch. Jesus. He and Javier could have so much fun taking this one apart.

Drew already looked a little dazed, and he’d only had half a glass of wine. “I’m from Minnesota. A little town called Floodwood.”

“And what brings you all the way to Sacramento?” Javier drew the word out, and Asa almost expected him to add slut.

“Work.” Drew glanced at Asa. “After college I worked for a while at a graphic design place in Minneapolis, but I wanted to get into advertising, so when the job came up here, I applied.”

Javier lifted his wineglass. “I thought all you advertising sorts wanted to work in New York.”

“Too cold.” Asa dug into his stew again.

“Too big.” Drew dipped his head.

Cute, shy boy. Cute, shy, slutty Fetlife boy.

“Do you like it here?” Javier snagged a piece of bread. He was definitely interested. Asa had known he would be. After all, Asa had shared all his Drew fantasies with Javier over the past few months, while Javier grumbled about not having anyone hot to ogle at his job. His fault. He was his own boss, and in charge of hiring and firing at the patisserie.

“Yes,” Drew said.

Asa ran his finger around the rim of his glass. Wondered idly how Drew would react if he called him on what Asa suspected was a lie and threatened to spank him for it.

Javier pressed his lips together briefly. “Hmm. But it’s hard to meet people in a new place sometimes.” Drew nodded. Javier caught Asa’s gaze, the unasked question in his eyes: Yes?

Yes. But carefully. Please.

Plenty of ways this could backfire. He was Drew’s boss. Somewhere, somehow, the director of HR had just broken out in a cold sweat.

“It’s the same for us.” Javier leaned back. “We both work long hours, and then who wants to go to a club to meet people?”

Drew nodded again, brow wrinkled. Asa smiled at him, but Drew didn’t appear to notice.

Javier leaned over to fill Drew’s empty wineglass—with sparkling grape juice. He and Asa had both limited themselves to one glass, and if Drew noticed they were swapping out the wine for juice, he didn’t comment. Javier put a hand on the back of Drew’s wrist. “Sometimes we find friends in other ways. The Internet.”

Drew gave a guilty-looking start and stared at his wrist where Javier was still touching him.

They were all on the same page here. Drew just didn’t believe it yet, Asa figured.

“I think maybe we could all be friends, Drew.” Javier’s voice was low, smooth, his accent blending his words together in a way that was almost like music.

“Oh.” Drew threw another glance at Asa, as though looking for help to read the situation. “Uh, okay.”

“I think”—Javier leaned closer—”that Asa and I want to play with you.”

Drew stared at them uncertainly. “What do you mean?”

Asa held his breath, a part of him afraid to even move. This could be bad. So fucking bad.

Javier ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, and Drew’s gaze followed it. “I mean, chiquito, my little Sacramento slut, that I want you to suck my dick, and then Asa’s, and then mine again.”

Drew moved so quickly that he was out of his chair and halfway to the front door before Asa even realized he was running.

* * *

“Drew! Drew, stop!”

No. Stopping was absolutely the worst thing he could do. He had to get back to his apartment and hide under his covers and decide what exciting new thing to do over Christmas: dive into a bottle of vodka and not come up again until New Year’s or compose his letter of resignation to Henderson and Vantassel and give his parents the good news that he was coming to visit after all. And staying until he died of old age. Or shame.

“Drew!”

He wrenched his coat off the hook by the door, fumbled his arms into it, and almost strangled himself with his scarf. Which was another possibility to add to his growing list of Christmas activities.

“Don’t you walk out of here, Drew.”

Something in Asa’s tone actually stalled him. Asa was authoritative here in a different way than he was at work. Not that Drew was responding to that on some weird, primal level. No, it was his pride that made him turn and face the guy. What was left of it, anyway. Because yes, he was more humiliated than he’d ever been in his entire life, but he wasn’t a total coward. He still had a shred of dignity.

“You saw my profile. On that site.” He couldn’t even say the name out loud. “That’s why you invited me to dinner?” He’d gotten a few messages since he’d joined Fetlife last month. Mostly creepy. A couple of nice-ish ones he’d responded to and then totally freaked out when the guys wanted to meet. He didn’t know what to tell people he was into. He didn’t know how to plan a scene, or what he’d do if he showed up to meet a dom for coffee or whatever and the guy turned out to be scary. Or boring.

And he’d probably made himself a creeper beacon with the profile name he’d chosen, but whatever. Nothing wrong with being a slut. While he hadn’t actually given himself a chance to act like one yet, if his fantasies were anything to go by, he was the sluttiest slut in the whole city. He wanted to give potential doms some indication he was up for anything. But when they sent messages treating him like he was up for anything, he got terrified. Made perfect sense.

Over Asa’s shoulder, he could see Javier standing in the doorway to the dining room. He wasn’t laughing, at least.

“Javier found the profile this evening and showed me. It’s not why I invited you here.” Asa’s face was grave, worried. “Even if we hadn’t seen it, we would have approached you. A bit more subtly, I hope.” He frowned at Javier.

“Approached me?”

Asa stepped closer. Caught the ends of Drew’s scarf and tugged it free. “Yes. To see if you wanted to fool around. Maybe do a scene. Do you know what a scene is?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t a fucking idiot. He had no idea what was going on right now, but he wasn’t an idiot. He was almost sure of that.

“Come back to the table. We’ll have dessert and talk about this, okay?” Asa slid his hands over Drew’s shoulders, pushing his coat off. His touch was warm and sure, and Drew breathed out as he imagined feeling Asa’s hands on him, skin on skin.

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, why he followed Asa back to the dining room. He’d thought he was going to have a friendly dinner with Asa and his partner, and then Javier had said that, and he and Asa had both assumed they could just…have their way with him. Which wasn’t…

He was so confused. Why was it hot to imagine being a total slut who would do anybody, anything, but then the reality of being treated like a mindless dick-sucking machine was…?

Okay, it was still kind of hot. But also terrifying. He wanted Asa to do things to him, filthy things. But he also wanted Asa to respect him. And that was never going to happen if Asa thought he was TheSacramentoSlut.

They sat. Javier fetched dessert from the kitchen—pumpkin-and-sweet-potato doughnuts. Drew was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to taste anything. Asa cleared his throat. “Jav? Maybe you’d like to apologize?”

“Mm. Sorry.” Javier didn’t sound particularly sorry. “That probably wasn’t the best way to ask if you want to play.” He took a doughnut and passed the tray to Drew. “But I’m a firm believer in being up front.”

So now Drew was supposed to say something, apparently. Too bad he was never going to speak again, ever.

“Drew?” Asa’s voice was kind, the command gone from it.

Drew forced his gaze up. Made it as far as the top of his wineglass.

“We really weren’t trying to scar you for life. This can just be dinner, if that’s what you want. I won’t hold it against you. Here or at work or…anywhere.”

Drew nodded slightly. Maybe this situation wasn’t something beyond his worst nightmares. Maybe it was a dream come fucking true. Asa did want to do filthy things to him. And not just any filthy things—kinky filthy things. “Why?” He let the word hang there for a few seconds. “You have each other. What do you need me for?”

He’d asked Asa, but Javier answered. “The trouble for us is that we both identify as dominant. Which is why we sometimes need a third.”

So it wasn’t that Drew was so irresistible they’d both fallen for him at first sight. They just needed a sub. Anyone would do, even Asa’s coffee boy. Ah, well. That made it better, right? If he played with them, things wouldn’t get complicated. He could indulge his fantasies about Asa, and at the end of the night, Asa would go back to Javier, and Drew would go back to Game of Thrones. No harm, no foul.

“I want to play.” He met Asa’s gaze, then Javier’s. “And I won’t hold it against you that you asked the way you did.” He managed a smile. “Even though it was pretty fucking presumptuous.”

Asa laughed nervously. “Good.” His voice was soft.

“So, um…” Drew forced himself to keep eye contact. “How do you guys usually play?”

Asa glanced at Javier. “Depends.”

Javier put a hand on Asa’s shoulder. “We’re both into some pretty fucked-up shit.”

Drew froze.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Jav.” Asa focused on Drew. “Don’t listen to him.”

Javier poured himself some juice. “What’s your past experience been like, Drew?”

“Past experience?”

“Leather. Kink. BDSM. Whatever your scene is.”

Shit. “I haven’t…actually done anything with anybody.”

Javier and Asa exchanged glances. “So the Sacramento Slut is more of a Floodwood Virgin?” Javier bit into his doughnut. Sugar clung to his lips, and Drew had to turn away to block out a fantasy of licking it off.

“I’ve fucked,” he said quickly. “And I’ve done kinky stuff. Just not…with anybody else.”

“What do you mean?” Asa took a sip of juice.

“I mean I’ve done stuff on my own.” No way was he going to let them think he was a lifestyle newbie. And if that meant admitting he’d spent some pretty lonely Friday nights with just his hand and the contents of his gear bag for company, fine.

“What kind of stuff?” Javier looked skeptical.

“I have toys.” He hadn’t meant to sound so defiant. “Lots. I’ve used dildos. Big ones. And plugs.”

“How big?” Javier extended his arm. “Bigger than my forearm?”

Drew wasn’t sure how he felt about Javier. The guy had seemed nice enough at first, but in the last few minutes, he’d been kind of a prick. “Not that big. But not small, either.”

Javier laughed. “That’s nice. But what we do is a little more intense than—”

“Clamps.” It was fun to stare at Javier. Javier’s gaze was intense, even when he was talking about trivial things. And right now, he seemed surprised that Drew had interrupted him. Which Drew found highly satisfying. “I’ve clamped my nipples and my balls. I’ve used clothespins. I’ve had ginger up my ass. I’ve given myself enemas—”

“Whoa.” Asa leaned forward. “Enemas? Seriously?”

“Like what, just for fun?” Javier dunked his doughnut in his grape juice and took another bite without looking away from Drew.

“To see how it feels. I’ve also flogged myself. Hit myself with canes—though that’s hard to do. And one time I put mouthwash inside my dick with a Q-tip.”

“Ow.” Javier straightened. “Are you crazy?”

Asa shot Javier a grin. “How come you never let me do that to you?”

“I’m not insane.” Javier waved his doughnut at Drew. “Why did you do all that?”

“Because I’m kinky as shit! I’ve been researching all this stuff for forever, but I don’t have a partner, and I’m nervous about meeting new people so I’ve just been—been going solo.”

Asa looked like he was going to say something, but shut his mouth. Drew curled his fingers until his nails bit into his palms. Please don’t think I’m a pathetic freak.

Javier’s hand was nearly touching Drew’s. “Tell me,” he said softly, “how a hot guy like you—who’s into all that—doesn’t have a partner.”

A surge of frustration hit Drew. “I don’t ever know how to ask.”

It was strange, but at some point during this conversation, Drew’s nerves had gone away. Not completely, but he no longer felt humiliated. He felt pretty incredible, actually. No matter what these two thought about him now, he’d been honest. He’d surprised them.

“You can ask now.” Asa spoke quietly.

Drew looked into Asa’s dark eyes and relived all his most private fantasies in the space of a few seconds. On his knees, on his back, on his stomach, begging Mr. Lindeman to make him come, to hit him harder, to let him suck his huge cock. Asa fucking him wide open and then leaving him raw and trembling, cum spilling out of his ass. Telling him to clean up and get back to work. And when Drew couldn’t get up, Asa would lean down and stroke his back. Tell him it was okay, that he could stay locked in this office on all fours, his ass gaping, waiting for Asa to come back from a meeting and fill it again.

His dick pushed against his tight jeans. He let go of the last of his doubts, let Asa see he was exposed but not frightened. “Can I…can I be your slut tonight?” He glanced at Javier. “Both of you?”

Javier blew out a breath. “One of the ten hottest moments of my life. Easily.”

Asa laid a hand on Drew’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Can you trust us to take good care of you, slut?”

Drew leaned slightly closer to him. He wanted to sink into Asa, but he knew that wasn’t okay. Not yet. “Yes, sir,” he murmured.

Javier muttered something that sounded like, “Trace steel.”

“All right.” Asa pushed his plate aside. “Let’s talk limits.”