What We May Be: An MMF Romantic Mystery

by Layla Reyne

  Sean’s hot breath floated across the side of his face. “What do you want, Trev?”

  He rolled his hips and thrust his dick into Sean’s fist. “This to never end.”

  Charlie skated her nails up his chest. “It won’t, baby.” She rose again, and before she brought her body back down, Sean freed Trevor’s cock, and the resulting friction of fabric against his bare shaft about did Trevor in.

  He needed to get Sean and Charlie as undressed as he was if he had any chance of the three of them coming together. He righted himself, and on Charlie’s next downward grind, he yanked her shirt free and slipped his hands under the hem. He spread his fingers over her warm skin, climbing her torso and pushing the fabric off over her head. Beside him, Sean rocked an impressive erection against his side. Trevor tilted his face for a kiss, and when Sean was done devouring his mouth, Trevor growled against his lips. “Get your cock out and get it in me.”

  As Sean raced to strip and grab the lube out of his bag, Trevor focused on getting Charlie out of the rest of her clothes. He popped the front clasp of her bra, slid the straps down her arms, then palmed her breasts, pinching and twisting her stiff nipples, causing her to throw back her head and moan. The next time she rose, he stopped her descent with a hand between her legs, cupping her center. With his other hand, he lifted a breast to his mouth and sucked a nipple between his lips, flicking it with his tongue. She wobbled on her knees, but Sean steadied her while working free the zipper of her pants. As she writhed in their arms, teased to the extreme, whispering pleas for more, Trevor reached a hand inside her panties and plunged two fingers inside her.

  “Yes,” she gasped, and that throaty sound, the warm wet heat clenching around his fingers, had him barreling close to the edge again. Eyes closed, he pumped his fingers in and out, his thumb circling her clit, building her higher and building his own need faster.

  “Trev.” Sean’s voice cut through the lust. “I’m gonna come all over Charlie’s backside if you two keep it up.”

  Blinking open his eyes, Trevor feasted on the sight of Sean naked beside them, hard and flushed, with a fist around his balls. “Not a bad proposition.”

  Sean’s gaze darkened. “I thought you wanted me in you.”

  A better proposition. Made even sweeter as Charlie lightly touched his cheek, bringing his attention back to her. Her dark eyes were hooded, her lips deliciously plump, and her hair a wild halo of dark brown. “And I want you in me. All together. Always.”

  If he’d thought his lovers were sexy a decade ago, it was nothing compared to now. Nothing compared to how fiercely he needed what Charlie and Sean were promising.

  They shed the rest of their clothes and crawled toward the middle of the bed, Charlie lying on her back and letting her thighs fall open. Trevor sank between them as Sean blanketed his back, cock notching against his ass.

  “Protection?” Sean panted as they rolled in a simulation of what they were seconds from making a reality.

  “IUD,” Charlie said. “Last test was negative.”

  “There’s been no one else for me since the two of you earlier this month,” Trevor said, looking down at Charlie, then over his shoulder at Sean. “Negative.”

  “Same,” Sean said. “But if you want—”

  “I want to feel all of you,” Trevor said. “Both of you.”

  “I’m good with that,” Charlie said, echoed by Sean’s “Me too.”

  Trevor hung his head, overwhelmed at their trust, at their love, and at the miraculous fact they’d somehow gotten this back. A second—hell, a third—chance.

  Charlie nudged his chin up with a kiss. “Make love to me, Trevor. I want to feel all of my best friend.”

  Powerless to hold back, he surged over her. With his forearms on the mattress on either side of her head, his hands framing her face, their eyes locked, he drove inside her, hard and deep. Charlie gasped, nuzzling her face into one of his hands and nipping his palm.

  “Home,” Sean whispered behind him, and Trevor’s heart stuttered. Leaning over him, Sean ravaged his mouth again with a deep, plundering kiss, contradicting the simplicity of that single word.

  Sean pulled away, kissing down Trevor’s spine. Overload threatened again as Charlie kissed across his chest and hitched her legs higher, taking him deeper. And when Sean’s tongue glided down his crack and circled his rim, there was no stopping his forward thrust. Into Charlie while Sean held tight to his hips and pushed his tongue into him. Asked to make a choice which was better, Charlie’s center clenching around his cock or Sean’s tongue breaching his hole, he’d refuse to answer. He didn’t have to choose. He was lucky enough to have both.

  Mind-blowing, intimate, extraordinary.

  Charlie bowed beneath him, her heels pressing urgently into his ass, and Trevor sharpened his focus on her. He wanted to make this wonderful for his best friend too. Needed to. His strokes were deep, claiming, and Charlie met him thrust for thrust. Sean kept up with them as well, taking hold of Charlie’s ankles and driving Trevor in deeper. Together, they pushed her harder and faster until she careened over the edge with a shout. Three strokes later, Sean shoved two spit-slicked fingers into Trevor’s hole, aimed directly at his prostate, and Trevor planted to the hilt inside Charlie and groaned his release into her neck, joining her in oblivion.

  And then he was ripped out of it in the best way possible. Sean hauled him up and back, across his spread thighs, and trickled cool lube down his crack, spreading it around and in his hole. “I’m not gonna last long.” His voice sounded as wrecked as Trevor felt. “Watching you two, tasting you on my tongue again. Fuck, I want in here.”

  “Then get in there,” Charlie said from in front of them, her legs still spread, and Trevor stretched forward with his upper body. He licked a long, slow swipe through her folds, lapping up their combined release and humming in pleasure. He lingered there for a blissful moment, in the taste and smell of them, before continuing to her clit and sucking hard on the bundle of nerves, causing Charlie to buck.

  “Fucking hell,” Sean cursed behind him, then tunneled into Trevor’s ass, burying his dick inside him.

  Trevor groaned. His senses, his soul, were full. Of the taste of him and Charlie that he couldn’t get enough of, continuing to lick and suck and building her up again. Of Sean thrusting inside him, pegging his already sensitive prostate. Just this side of pain but fucking incredible. Of the scent of sex and the sounds of Charlie’s keening and Sean’s grunts, music to his fucking ears.

  A perfect three-part harmony that played a hell of an encore, Charlie’s thighs trembling on either side of his head as she bucked off the bed, coming hard a second time against his mouth. Sean burying himself with one last thrust and coming inside Trevor, the warm gush of his come—the “I love you” and “Come, baby” from his partners—the final sparks that lit Trevor from the inside and had him coming again in the arms of the two people he’d never stopped loving.

  Never would.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bound and gagged, Craig Rowan sat shaking on a starting block in HU’s natatorium. Moonlight streamed through the ceiling windows of the huge building, reflecting off the water in the pool and giving the shadows a life of their own. It had been close to nine when he’d left the gym, needing to get in a good work out after being cooped up in protective custody. Given the position of the moon overhead now, he guessed it was past midnight. He’d been out for several hours.

  Sweat soaked his gray gym shirt, staining his collar and running down his back, a by-product of his agitation and the humidity of the room, but his limbs weren’t slick enough to slip out of the ropes binding his wrists and ankles. All he’d managed to do since waking an hour ago was scrape his skin raw and add the stench of his blood to the heavy chlorine-scented air.

  Even if he managed to loosen the bindings, they weren’t the only things holding him in place. Thicker, heavier-duty ropes circled his waist and neck, and tied to their ends, sitting on his knees, were two giant
cinder blocks. Struggle or shake too much and one or both cinder blocks would fall. And so would he. Into the deep end of the pool below him.

  He couldn’t believe this. The officer who’d been his shadow for the past two days, ever since that bitch Charlotte Henby had dressed him down in front of the entire HPD and an FBI agent, had told him the threat had passed. They’d caught their prime suspect. So either they had the wrong person in custody, or this was something else. Someone jerking his chain, out for a good laugh, he hoped. Or someone trying to force his hand or seeking retribution, he feared.

  In either event, he couldn’t say with certainty what for. The potential list was a long one. He was no saint, and he hadn’t hesitated to use his family name or city hall to get what he wanted. That’s the way his father had done it and his father before him. One of the perks of being a Rowan. He was pretty sure, though, that neither his dad nor his granddad had ever found themselves in this kind of situation.

  A shadow moved, drawing his gaze from the blocks on his knees to the corner of the room. When the shadow took form and stalked the end of the building closest to him, Craig reared back, almost knocking off a block.

  “Careful, Craig,” the figure spoke, voice disguised by a modulator. “I need you to send a message for me before you die.”

  Die?

  Fear shot through him, causing his heart to pound and his vision to blur. This was not some prank.

  “I’m going to ungag you now, and you’re not going to scream. If you scream, I’ll knock those blocks off your knees. Nod if you understand.”

  He nodded carefully as beads of sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. He blinked furiously to clear his vision. Maybe if he recognized his kidnapper, if it was someone he knew, he could use his connections to plead his case. His hopes died, though, when his kidnapper approached from behind, untying the gag and removing it from his mouth. The cloth made a small splash in the water.

  Hearing a click to his right, he scanned the shadows again and found the unmistakable red dot of a camera. He was being recorded. Before he had time to contemplate further, his attacker spoke again.

  “Do you know why you’re here?”

  He licked his lips and stretched his jaw, forcing his mouth to function again after being gagged. “No,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and started again. “No, I have no idea.”

  “You’re guilty, Craig.”

  “Guilty?”

  “You were a star back then, weren’t you? Captain and starting tailback for the Raiders. I bet you thought you could have any girl you wanted.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, distracted. He’d begun working again at the bindings behind his back.

  “And if a girl didn’t want you, you’d just slip a little something into her drink.”

  His fingers froze. “I never did that.”

  “No?” It wasn’t so much a question as thinly veiled outrage. The pacing behind him stopped. “You never took Charlotte Henby to a party her senior year of high school, plied her with a roofied wine cooler, and pressured her to have sex with you?”

  It took everything in him not to move, to suppress the bile that rocketed up his throat and stung his nostrils. The struggle only intensified as the kidnapper carried on with the litany of his sins.

  “And Trevor Caldwell never broke your nose when he came to rescue her. You never returned the favor. Your best friend, Thomas Teller, never pulled Trevor off you and threatened to tell his father, the HU Pirate’s baseball coach, what Trevor had done so he’d lose his scholarship. You never threatened to press assault charges if he or Charlie reported what you’d done. You never did any of those things, did you, Craig?”

  “H-h-how did you know all that?”

  Footsteps grew louder, charging up behind him, and he closed his eyes, forcing himself not to rock forward at the force of the person’s words or the spittle flying onto the side of his face. “You ruined a good family that night. Then you grew up to cover the same crimes you committed. Anyone who’s lived in Hanover a minute can see what a despicable man you are.”

  The warm breath retreated, and the names began again, names he’d never forget. “Hannah Meyers, Patricia Gilbert, Meghan Abbott.”

  As the assailant’s angry voice filled the cavernous building, Craig had to fight harder to control his shaking, the cinder blocks wobbling precariously on his knees, threatening death at any second.

  “Three HU cheerleaders, drugged and raped at an alumni party in Atlanta after the Pirates won their bowl game last New Year’s Eve.”

  Shaking only his head, he spouted his practiced response. “HU and Atlanta PD conducted an investigation. They found no evidence connecting any HU players to the events of that night.”

  “Because you, our esteemed mayor, covered it up. You and Thomas Teller up to your old tricks again.”

  His attacker was still in the shadows, not close enough to glimpse, to confirm who they might be. Either way, he had to try to negotiate for his life. He knew the camera was rolling, that he was admitting his guilt, but between certain death and a jail cell, he’d take the cell.

  “What do you want? Money? Restitution for those girls? We can handle this quietly. I’ll talk to Thomas. I’m sure we can make some sort of deal. Just tell me what you want and let me go. Whatever you want, just let me live.”

  “Would you give up the mayor’s seat?”

  He’d hate it, relinquishing the power of city hall, cutting off the future career path for his son. But right now, his attacker had all the power, and he had none. “If I have to.”

  “Not good enough. You have to pay for your crimes, Craig. For the wrongs you’ve committed and the tragedies you’ve caused.”

  “Please,” he begged. “Whatever you want.”

  Arms snaked from around him, hands on the cinder blocks. “I only want one thing for the lives you’ve destroyed, for the lives lost because of your crimes.”

  He gulped. “What do you want?”

  “For you to get what you deserve.”

  “Please,” he whispered a final appeal. “You don’t want to do—”

  The cinder blocks fell and dragged Craig Rowan into the water with them.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sean balanced the tray of Bojangles’ breakfast goods in one hand and with his other withdrew the motel room card key from his pocket and swiped it in front of the door lock. The electronic lock clicked, and he pushed inside… and nearly dropped the tray.

  Charlie sat on the end of the dining table in one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned, and nothing else, so far as Sean could tell from the doorway. Between her spread legs, Trevor stood in his boxer briefs, running his hands up her thighs as he rained kisses over her face, Charlie’s quiet sighs making Sean hard in an instant.

  Her command making him even harder. “Close the door, Sean.”

  He kicked it shut behind him, then looked for another place to set his wobbly tray of food because it looked like the table was well on its way to not being an option.

  “Was somebody hungry?” Trevor asked as he kissed a path down Charlie’s neck.

  Charlie laughed, deep and throaty, and with an easiness that had been missing since Sean had been back in Hanover. “He wanted to mark another off his list.”

  “Chicken biscuits for you and me,” Sean said as he crossed the room on the other side of the table. “Bo-berry biscuits for Mr. Sweet Tooth.” He set the tray on the coffee table, then turned back to the even sweeter, hotter sight. “I hope those are still acceptable.”

  Trevor righted his head, face turning to Sean, and the languid heat in his hazel eyes was as intoxicating as Charlie’s earlier laugh. “The only thing acceptable right now is you out of those clothes and standing here with us.” One of his hands crept under the hem of Charlie’s borrowed shirt, and Charlie spread her legs wider, braced both hands behind her, and dropped her head back between her shoulders. The shirt fell the rest of the way open, revealing nothing else in
deed, other than her gorgeous breasts and Trevor’s thumb working her clit.

  As Trevor sank two fingers inside her, Sean hustled to join them, shedding his shirt and dropping his pants, never happier he’d gone commando.

  A growly Trevor approved. “Get in here.” He shifted enough for Sean to slide between them on his knees, adding his tongue to the pleasure Trevor was already giving Charlie while stroking Trevor’s cock. He groaned at finding them both wet and eager. And they groaned above him too, two hands landing on his head, Trevor and Charlie directing him together. He loved giving up control to them, pleasuring them like this.

  Without goodbye looming over them.

  Charlie moaned and writhed, the roll of her hips, the pants of her breaths, and the keening pleases and fuck mes escalating, until she came with a shout and a slap of her palm against the table.

  Trevor dragged him up the next instant, turned his back to Charlie, and grasped their dicks in his fist. He pumped them, hard and fast, Sean’s spit and their precome making his grip smooth and wet. Wetter still when Charlie recovered, wrapped herself around Sean from behind, and teased his rim with her own slick finger. “You know what would make this better?” she whispered hotly in his ear.

  Oh, he knew, remembered it fondly. “You pegging one of us.”

  “Next time,” Charlie promised as she pinched his nipples.

  Sean tipped forward and came with a fantasy-fueled grunt against Trevor’s lips, then nearly combusted a second time when Trevor lifted his come-covered hand and Charlie licked it clean over Sean’s shoulder. Trevor thrust against his groin and covered it with his own release.