Brotherhood of Fire by Elizabeth Moore

grin, thinking that shouldn't sound as good as it did.
* * * * *
    John's truck pulled in next to theirs in the small patch of dirt in front of the cabin. Garrett couldn't hold in the grin as he watched John climb out, shaking his head a little and looking around.
"You were right." John nodded as he walked over. "This place is amazing."
    Garrett glanced around again at the picture-perfect cabin, the wood porch, the small clearing keeping the woods that surrounded the place at bay. It smelled of pine and clean air. There was a small yard at the back with a fire pit, and other than that, not a thing in site but trees. The drive was at least a half a mile long, just a sandy, two-track road. It couldn't be more perfect for the three of them, though when they had rented the place that hadn't even been part of the equation.
    "I think we have to come here every year from now on, make it a tradition." Garrett offered, getting a feel for John's mood.
They stood barely two feet apart, John's hands on his hips, Garrett's shoved in his pockets, making small talk like two friends hanging out. Not two friends getting ready to push further into an arrangement that included Garrett's wife in bed with them both.
"Campground is always a good time though. Crowded, loud, and definitely not private, but it's fun." John's voice sounded casual, but he shifted on his feet, stuffing his hands down into his pockets.
"Going to miss it this year?"
John's eyebrow cocked up. "Funny, asshole. No, I won't miss the drunks at the campground. You know damn well I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to be." He turned away with a short huff, looking out into the trees. "Now that I'm on board, just know I don't want any bad blood between us. This is your show, your idea; I'll just go with whatever you guys want. Water ball—now that's my show, so no matter what the hell we do, we have to sleep a little at least. The competition is brutal, and I intend to win this year."
Garrett clapped him on the back. "Sleep or no, I'm jacked up enough to take on the world right now, man. I'm all in for the competition. We'll get you that trophy. As for here, what I want is for you to treat her like she's yours. She likes you, a lot. If she can see you are okay with this, she'll calm down and settle right in. On the outside, she might seem like a tough girl, but, uh . . . ." He hesitated, the sudden feeling of handing control of his wife to someone else gripping him. The exact thing he wanted, and it had snuck around to bite him in the ass. He had to grin at the dilemma. John threw him a curious look.
"Uh, well, she likes you to take charge. I'm a little dom with her sometimes. Nothing crazy, just be in charge. She eats it up. Makes her feel safe, you know? She's unpacking. There's two bedrooms. You claiming one or just not going to bother pretending?"
"Dick. Gotta push, don't you?" John muttered, dragging his bag out of the back seat of his truck. He slammed the door and turned back toward the cabin with a determined look. "Point."
"Second door on the left, down the little hall at the back."
Garrett grabbed the rest of their luggage out of the truck and followed him, feeling the blood pooling in his cock again.
He watched the door push open to the small bedroom. The saving grace for the cramped quarters was the king sized bed stuffed in the tiny space. Sending up a silent thank you god for small favors, he took in the sight of his wife.
In the middle of putting clothes in the small dresser next to the bed, she'd startled when the door pushed open. He could see past John to her open-mouthed look. Her eyes were wide, her hands twisting whatever piece of clothing she held. It was sexy as hell watching her take them both in.
John's bag dropped to the floor, and he kicked it aside. Turning briefly, he glanced back. Garrett never would have believed in a million years that the look passing over a man's face would make his cock harden instantly, make his body grow flush, and a raw,