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Boxers & Briefs: An MFMM Romance by Abby Angel (90)

Ares

Dirty Destiny—swear to God, this is the best fucking place in New York. It’s like my second home. And, really, can you fucking blame me? More hot girls per square meter than any other place on Earth, and every single one of them eager to get in my pants; it’s like Heaven on fucking Earth.

I stroll inside the place with my head held high, and a few of the girls nod my way as they see me come in. The club is packed (as it always is), almost every single table and booth taken, and there are three women up on the gigantic stage, each one of them dancing around a tall pole. Exactly the kind of show I fucking love.

I make a beeline toward the stairway that leads to the VIP floor, and the bouncer nods at me and pulls the red rope cordoning the stairs. I don’t even need to say a fucking word; everyone in here knows who I am, from the strippers to the bouncers and bartenders. If you think that’s worthy of note, think again; I’m a fucking billionaire, and one of the most eligible bachelors in the U.S.—of course everyone knows who Ares Strong is. Of course, the fact that I’m a regular helps matters considerably.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, I glance around the VIP floor, squinting my eyes as they try to adjust to the dim lights in here. Lucas is sitting in one of the spacious booths and, as soon as I see him, I start walking toward him.

"Punctual as always," I grin, sitting down by his side on the leather couch that lines the wall and pulling the booth’s red curtain, sheltering us from prying eyes.

"And you… Late as always," he says, a light frown on his face.

"That’s my modus operandi," I shrug and, with a sigh, he allows an easy smile to replace his frown. Good.

You’re probably wondering what the two of us are doing together, right? And in a strip club, of all places. Well, I was the one suggesting Dirty Destiny as a place where we could meet (offices fucking bore me to death), and as to the reason why we’re meeting… Well, let’s just say that it’s time we bury the hatchet. I mean, after what happened in Daphne's’ office, it’s the logical thing to do, right? We’ve been holding a grudge for too fucking long, and I guess that we needed Daphne to act as a bridge between the two of us.

"So, you’ve heard," he starts, forcing us to dive straight into business.

"I’ve heard," I nod. I mean, who hasn’t fucking heard? Ever since that fucking asshole Seymour said that the government was willing to pony up a $1.1 trillion that the press has gone fucking bananas. No wonder, an offer of that size is completely fucking insane. It’s something completely unheard of.

"There’s no way we can top that." Lucas leans back against the couch and crosses his legs, looking at me as if he expects me to have the fucking solution to all our problems. Well, lucky for him, I might have it; yeah, I’m fucking awesome like that.

"No. There’s no way we can afford a price tag like that."

Except we can. And that’s why I decided to meet with Lucas.

"What’s on your mind, Ares?"

"It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? We have to work together," I tell him, and my heart starts racing the moment the words leave my fucking mouth. I can’t believe I’m actually suggesting we work together. I mean, just few days ago we were willing to almost kill each other over Daphne, and now… Now Daphne has turned the chessboard upside down, and now we’re all playing in the same fucking team.

Besides, how can I hate him after what happened between the three of us? Because, fuck it, it wasn’t just about sex (although it was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had). No, I’m not about to turn into some fucking pansy and start writing poems and love songs and shit, but I gotta tell you, what happened between us forged a connection. Or, more than that, it brought to light a connection that was already there.

"Me and you, working together," he muses, a slight smile on his face. "Now that’s something I wasn’t expecting to hear from you…"

"Why? Is it that fucking surreal? We used to be friends, Lucas. We used to trust each other." I lower my voice then, memories of long ago flashing behind my eyelids. Memories that I’ve tried to bury for years.

"That was a long time ago, Ares… And you remember what happened then," he says, sorrow tainting his words.

"Of course I remember. How could I ever forget?" I whisper and, holding my breath, I reach for him and place my hand on top of his. "But it’s time we move on. It’s time we trust again." I squeeze his fingers in mine, my eyes locked on his. "Trust me."

He squeezes my hand, and I can almost feel the air around us growing warmer. My eyes fall down to his lips and my heart starts kicking fast against my ribcage, a sudden urge to just fucking kiss him taking over me.

Fuck, why do I feel like this? Why am I holding his fucking hand? I’m not gay, bisexual, or whatever is the right fucking label for this… God, I just hate fucking labels; why do you have to put a name to everything? That’s bullshit. It doesn’t matter what I am; all that matters is that I’ve missed Lucas for too long and now, after we crossed paths with Daphne, that longing I felt for him turned into something more. Something I can’t control … something I don’t want to control.

"I trust you," he finally whispers to me, placing his free hand on my knee. His touch makes my blood boil, a high voltage current running through my muscles. I can’t even think straight right now.

"I’ve missed you," I say, the words fucking escaping my lips before I can do anything about it.

"I’ve missed you too," he replies without a moment’s hesitation.

Leaning in, I close my eyes and kiss him.

And, fuck it, it feels perfect.