Draven was nervous. It was stupid, really, to be on edge, but he knew he was going to say those three special words to Titus tonight.
He was kind of thinking Titus had the same plan in mind. Titus kept shooting him quick glances that bespoke of the same nervousness Draven was experiencing. Then there were the lingering looks, the casual, frequent touches they both shared.
And the connection between him and Titus was almost a physical thing, like a wire growing tauter by the minute, although unlike a stretched wire, the connection wasn’t thinning. Rather, it was growing stronger; Draven felt it in his core, his soul, in the ancient part of what he was that knew it’s mate.
He’d thought Andres was the man he’d spend his life with, but what he’d had with Andres could not compare to the feelings he had for Titus. Draven didn’t question why he’d been fooled before. He’d been terribly lonely and had wanted someone to commit to.
Then he’d wanted nothing more than to protect his bruised heart after Andres’ betrayal.
“You need to tell him,” Riveen muttered, nudging Draven’s hip when Titus headed for the bathroom and left them alone. “You’re already hooked. You have to tell him. He’s not Andres. I have love cooties from the two of you eye-fucking each other all night.”
“Love cooties?” Draven glared at Riveen. “You’re stuck at about twelve years old, emotionally. Max.”
“Duh. And now I’ll have to go home and scrub the cooties off before I fall for some guy with a pretty smile and a nice ass,” Riveen drawled. “Like your guy.”
Draven glared harder. “Stop ogling him, and shouldn’t you be going home soon?”
“It’d be rude to leave while Titus is in the bathroom.” Riveen stood, though, and stretched, his back popping as he arched it. “Mmm. I could use a massage. Bet I can find someone to give me one, along with giving me the big D.”
Groaning, Draven rubbed at his forehead. “Jeez, Riveen. Really?”
“Was the big D too much?”
“I vote yes,” Titus said, coming back into the living room. “Besides, you might end up with an average D, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Riveen gasped. “Uh, there is. I’m totally a size guy. Well, average length is okay. Even a little smaller, but give me a fat dick, one that makes me—“
“Riveen!” Draven snapped, coming to his feet. “Cut it out.”
“Prudes, the both of you,” Riveen groused. “I’m going out to get that massage. You know, an internal one along with a backrub.”
Titus’s groan was laced with enough amusement that Draven decided not to snarl at Riveen.
“See y’all later. Don’t do anything crazy,” Riveen said as he walked to the door. “Y’all should be all prudish and spend the night talking. Talking’s a good thing.”
Draven was going to kick Riveen’s ass.
Riveen rolled his eyes, as if he knew what Draven was thinking. Then Riveen cackled and left.
“Finally,” Draven muttered. He sighed and sat down, more nervous than he’d been minutes earlier. “Um.”
Titus came over and sat down beside him. “Was he trying to force you to tell me something?”
Draven gulped and found himself reaching for Titus’s hands.
Titus slid his palms over Draven’s easily, then twined his fingers with Draven’s. “You can tell me anything. Or maybe I should tell you something.”
Draven’s heart pounded and he stared into Titus’s pretty eyes. “I love you.” The words slipped free, sweet and steady from his mouth. All the panic and nerves settled, as if they exited his body with the admission.
Titus smiled bigger than Draven had ever seen him do, and he leaned in, brushing his lips over Draven’s. “Oh, honey, I love you too. So quick, but I know it’s true. I know it’s good. Right. Strong.”
Draven nodded, then kissed Titus deeper, freeing one hand so he could cup Titus’s jaw. Heat rushed through him, desire and tenderness twining together in a perfect blend.
Draven reveled in the taste of Titus, the feel of him as Titus moved closer, straddling Draven’s lap.
This was what he’d always wanted, what he needed, and Draven wasn’t going to screw it up.
He had to trust in Titus, and in the love they’d both confessed to.