Best Play: A Perfect Play Novella: Perfect Play, #4

ONE

"How did I end up in this outfit? Levi tied the pink bandana around his neck, tucked the loose ends beneath the collar of his fringed, black-and-white, Western-style shirt, then stepped back, giving himself a once-over in the guest bedroom mirror. He plucked the white Stetson Marsh had gifted him off the bed and flipped it onto his head. Outfit complete, but still . . . I could’ve rocked the pink."

I’m sure you could, came Marsh’s voice from behind him. But I rock it better.

Glancing up, Levi caught the reflection of his husband in the mirror and—Oh.

Better was an understatement, and fuck if Levi could decide where to look, his attention torn in a dozen different directions. From Marsh’s bronze skin and sprinkling of chest hair on full display between the open flaps of the hot pink vest. To his muscled biceps and rippling abs as he sauntered closer. To the hot pink bell bottoms Marsh had somehow poured himself into, his thighs testing the seams, his shiny belt buckle drawing Levi’s gaze to his cock that was likewise testing his zipper.

Jesus fuck, Levi cursed.

Haven’t we been over this? Marsh snaked his arms around Levi’s waist and pressed close behind him. Heat, so much heat, up and down the length of Levi’s body, then in his ear, as Marsh whispered hotly, Not Jesus, just Marsh. He nipped his neck above the bandana, then lifted his hands and began unsnapping Levi’s shiny shirt buttons. And you’re wearing entirely too much clothing.

He got as far as Levi’s ribs, the brush of Marsh’s warm, rough fingertips against his skin sending another wave of heat crashing through him, finally knocking Levi out of his pink-on-bronze haze. And you’re not wearing nearly enough. He turned in Marsh’s arms and grabbed the lapels of his vest. I can’t believe your mom made this for you. He tried and failed to tug the vest closed. Will this thing even button?

Marsh stole the hat from his head, tossed it onto the dresser beside his matching one, then stepped into Levi’s space, forcing him back a step. Then another, and another, until Levi bumped into the bedroom door. Dipping his head, Marsh peppered his exposed collarbone with kisses. I think you’re missing the point of San Francisco Pride. Then altered his path and continued the kisses up the column of his throat to the corner of Levi’s mouth. And of a bachelor party.

He splayed his big, warm hands over Levi’s chest, branding as he pushed the shirt open wider, and fuck it, how was Levi supposed to resist? He angled his face and brought their lips crashing together, greedily sucking Marsh’s tongue as it swept inside his mouth. The fire that burned between them was no less scorching now than it had been that night a year ago after his cousin’s wedding, when Marsh had held him in his arms and given him exactly what he’d needed. What he’d asked for that night, during the whirlwind month that had followed, and over the past year, which had been one of the best of his life. A life—another shot at love—that Levi had thought out of his reach until a cocky cowboy had reached out to him.

He smiled against Marsh’s lips. I love you.

Marsh shoved a knee between his thighs and rocked their hips together. You love my cock.

That too, Levi said before a flash of light in the mirror drew his gaze, the midday sun catching his wedding ring on the hand clutching his husband’s ass. A perfect one at that, encased in hot pink. Levi flexed his fingers, more of that light shining, more of Marsh rubbing up against him. Maybe we skip the bachelor party. Marsh chuckled against him, his big body rippling in Levi’s arms. I don’t see a bachelor in this room. Hell, I think the only one in this house is David.

Marsh drew back and braced a forearm beside Levi’s head, his dark eyes sparkling with heat and affection, with all the love Levi felt in his own chest. Yes, our son, Marsh said, who we owe this party, like we owe him a wedding next weekend. He lifted his knee, pressing it snug against the underside of Levi’s balls, making Levi gasp. Marsh’s smirk was the same devastating one that had hooked him from across a dinner table a year ago. And we owe ourselves a first anniversary celebration.

Best deal I ever made.

Marsh’s grin gentled as he pressed his lips to Levi’s. Thank you.

For?

Saying yes. That night and all the days and nights since.

Fuck. Levi clutched his sides, hauling him closer. Just when I think I can’t love you more. He flipped them, backing Marsh against the door and diving in for more of his husband’s kisses. He spread a hand over Marsh’s chest, over the beating heart of the man he’d promised to love and cherish a year ago, words of convenience then. He couldn’t wait to repeat them, full of conviction now, but first . . .

He slid his hand down, cupping Marsh’s erection and stroking. How about a private celebration before the festivities begin?

Marsh thrust into his grip. I can agree to that deal.

Their son, however, did not. Dad! Marsh! He shouted from the other side of the door, fists banging the wood, rattling them against it. You’re supposed to be putting on clothes, not taking them off.

Levi buried his face in Marsh’s chest, burying his laughter. David knew them too well. Knew to recruit help too.

Texas! Lily screamed at the top of her lungs as she smacked the door in that open-palmed way Levi remembered from David’s toddler days a decade ago. Hurry up!

No tag teaming, Marsh called back through his own laughter.

I needed help, David argued. And Reese isn’t here yet.

They’d been to San Francisco so often the past year, either for work or for visiting friends and family, like Lily and her dads, that David had gone and gotten himself a Bay Area boyfriend. Hadn’t lost the teenager attitude, though. You two are impossible, he grumbled.

We’ll be down in five, Levi called back to him.

How many seconds is that? Lily asked, still at the top