by Krista Wolf
God, he’s so beautiful.
“Sharing a woman is like the best of both worlds,” Trey went on. “Everything you do, you do together. Your friends, your girl… it’s all one big happy world. Everything’s more fun when its shared by everyone. It’s why everyone loves a party. It’s why people hang out in groups to begin with.”
I stared at Trey, illuminated in the dim light filtering through the cold windows. I’d just about memorized every curve of his handsome face. I’d traced it all lightly with my fingertips. Kissed his stubbled skin with my lips, as my lover sawed slowly in and out of my body.
“But you don’t get jealous?” I asked, getting back to business. God, it was hard to focus! “You don’t ever feel like—”
“No,” he said firmly and immediately. His mouth curled into a sly smile. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe. If you would’ve asked me a year or two ago, I would’ve thought you were crazy too. That something like this could never, ever work. That I’d be insanely jealous watching my girl… well… you know.”
“Oh I know,” I chuckled playfully.
“It’s just so fucking hot,” Trey explained. “Watching. Participating. Seeing someone the three of us care about so much, enjoying us all at the same time.” He shook his head vaguely. “There’s an incredible connection there. One I can’t totally put my finger on. I mean, just seeing the intensity of the pleasure we gave you. Looking up at my friends, knowing we’re connected at some invisible, intimate level…”
“Through me…” I said, my belly doing a sexy somersault. “Connected through me.”
“And not just physically either,” Trey added. “But emotionally too. I mean, I don’t want to jump the gun here. You hardly know us. But if you were to get to know us… get to really care about us?” He sighed happily. “Well that’s the best part of all. Sharing a woman who loves us. Who takes three times the attention, and gives it three times back.”
I pried my eyes away from my lover’s perfect body and forced myself to really examine him. The way his eyes lit up, the way he talked so animatedly about this… it all struck me as so passionate, so totally genuine. It was incredible insight, into a unique and beautiful mindset. It made me wish more than anything I had my notebook with me.
“What about the rules?” I asked.
“The what?”
“The rules. I hear you have rules you guys have to follow.”
Trey shifted a little, his eyes darting away. When they returned, I could see he’d decided something. Possibly in my favor.
“The rules are for you,” he admitted finally. “Not us.”
I squinted back at him. Eventually he smiled.
“Seriously. They’re designed to keep from scaring you away. From advancing things past your comfort zone.” Gingerly he reached out and touched my face with the back of one big hand. “The rules were supposed to stop us from going too fast, Hannah. Or too hard. Or—”
“A little late for that,” I snickered. “Don’t you think?”
“Oh yeah,” he grinned back. “We blew that one, big time.”
He pulled me against him sideways, draping one long arm around me. My body spooned perfectly into his. I felt safe. Protected. I slid one tired leg over his, molding myself to him. Feeling the warmth of his skin, as I pressed my lips softly against his chest.
“With you,” Trey sighed happily, “the rules pretty much went out the window.”
Eighteen
BROOKE
I kept staring at the computer, but nothing would come. No words, no sentences, nothing to get me started on the column I needed to write.
My screen was still mockingly, utterly blank.
“Just get it done,” Chloe had told me over our usual morning coffee. “I don’t really care what you write about this week, as long as you get back to your real work.”
By that she meant the Cosmo article, of course. It was the only thing in the whole office that really mattered.
“Look, if you don’t want to do it I can give it Audrey,” my boss had suggested. “I know she’d jump at the chance to—”
“NO,” I’d said, and probably a little too loudly. I’d even drawn a few stares in our little break room. “No, no, I’ll do it. I promise I’ll get it done before I leave today.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to write my weekly column, it was more like I just couldn’t. I was too unfocused. Too distracted. Too—
Too preoccupied with thinking about the guys.
There, I’d said it. Or silently admitted it to myself, at the very least. The truth of the matter was, every time I closed my eyes to conjure up a sentence… Adam would be there. Or Dante. Or Trey.
My God. Trey…
It was awful. It was awesome. It was everything I shouldn’t be doing right now, yet couldn’t help myself.
In the end though, I had to get it done. I wasn’t about to give up Bring it to Brooke, not even for a single day. Handing the column over to Audrey — even just for a week — was like opening an unwanted door. Besides, Audrey was terrible. A great person, and a fantastic co-worker… but Audrey couldn’t write a shopping list without fucking it up.
I took a deep breath, resigning myself to start. I’d hammer out a sentence. Any sentence. From there, at least I’d have something. I could start taking that sentence apart, restructuring it in a way that—
DING.
The little bell in the bottom corner of my screen went off. An instant message. The little flag icon waving back and forth denoted it as inter-office.
I clicked on it… and saw it was from Chris.
Fuck me.
There was nothing to be done about it, really. As much as I hated communicating with him these days, there were times when my job required it. Resignedly, I clicked and a dialogue box opened.
Hey! How was your weekend?
For a moment I wanted to tell him. To just let my fingers fly, and hammer out every last dripping detail of my unspeakably hot adventure. I envisioned the shock and horror on Chris’s face. The minute or two it would take for him to drop his mouse and come bursting through my door, demanding to know everything.
God, it would be so glorious.
I heard you were on Cornell’s campus yesterday.
For a few seconds I sat there, totally frozen. It wasn’t a question — it was more of a statement than anything else. Something cold stole over me, sapping my strength and energy.
Brooke? You there?
I was shocked. Pissed. A little bit frightened.
How the hell did you know where I was?
A few long seconds dragged by. Then:
A little bird told me.
I shook my head, rubbing at my temples. I could feel a migraine coming on. The first one in a long while.
No, seriously. A friend of mine works there. He saw you on campus.
My shoulders let go, and I relaxed a tiny bit. It was plausible. It made sense… sort of.
He said you were over by faculty housing. You know someone there?
Again, it seemed I was destined to do everything today except write my article. And now here I was, stuck again. Going back and forth with my weirdo of an ex-boyfriend, over absolutely nothing.
Chris, piss off. I’m trying to write.
I closed the chat window, thinking that would be the end of it. But my computer chimed again. The little flag started waving.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
I pushed my keyboard away temporarily and clicked the blinking icon.
I heard you were there late. Very late.
Really? Was he being serious? I couldn’t believe it.
Fuck you Chris! Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
I kept typing, kept going, until there were nearly two full lines of ‘fuck yous’ scrawled across my screen. I punched the SEND button, then kicked back in my chair and threw open one of my desk drawers. The Advil bottle stared back at me innocuously, as if to claim it had nothing to do with the whole thing.
Not very nice, Brooke. Abusive, almost.
I popped two Advil, hesitated, then shook out a third one. I was about ready to pull my hair out. Ready to kick my monitor across the room.
Especially to someone who was only asking about your weekend.
God, it was so enraging! He knew exactly how to get under my skin. The worst part was that I let him. That I actually humored him, when I should’ve been wholly ignoring him.
I’ll let you go, it sounds like you’re in a bad mood. Sorry your weekend didn’t work out for you.
I was ready to kill him. To run screaming from my office, cross the building, and throttle him with both hands. But that’s the funny part. It was exactly what he wanted.
Next weekend we should hook up, Brooke. Who knows? Maybe we can start having fun again. We could--
I shoved off from my desk. Flew through the door to my office, along the hallway, and down the stairs. I considered going to Chloe. Or maybe even human resources. What he was doing was harassment, wasn’t it? It was infuriating and distracting and keeping me from my work.
He’ll point to the conversation, the little voice in my head told me, and say he was only asking about your weekend. He’ll say that you freaked out for no reason. That you told him to piss off, then cursed him out.
Shit. I could see the whole thing unfolding, word for word, line for line. I’d be accused of blowing things way out of proportion. Chloe would be annoyed at the both of us. She’d write it off as a “lovers’ spat”, and Chris would tell his sister that I was only frustrated because I still harbored feelings for him.
Fuuuuuck!
I needed it to be Thursday. I needed to see Adam and Dante, and have them make everything right in my world again.
But for now…
For now I needed to get a cold bottle of water. I needed to chug half of it, dump the other half over my head, then go back upstairs to my office and finish my column.
Or rather, start my column and then finish my column.
Because that’s what alpha bitches did.
Nineteen
“HANNAH”
I’d learned so much about Trey in my short time with him. He was super-intelligent, having won a full-ride to his Cornell engineering degree. He wanted to work for NASA someday. Rocket propulsion. Right now he was teaching physics to undergrads, but still hadn’t finished his thesis.
Unbelievably, he accomplished all this as a three-letter athlete in high school. Football, basketball, baseball. He’d even done track for a little while, all while keeping his grades up.
“I thought nerds were supposed to be weak and skinny?” I’d teased him, squeezing at his bulging muscles.
“Not this nerd,” he’d flexed back.
On a more personal level, I learned what got him out of bed in the morning. His wants, his needs, his desires — especially when it came to friends, his family, his relationships. In short, I got all the way into Trey’s head. Into his pants as well, but who was really keeping score?
The others however…
When it came to Adam and Dante, I knew very little. I hadn’t cracked those nuts yet — so to speak — so when Thursday rolled around I was more than eager to learn all about my other two lovers, and what circumstances brought them to seek out a polyamorous lifestyle.
Especially if it helped my Cosmo article kick ten different kinds of ass.
Of course, I also wanted to see them for much different reasons. Reasons that were a lot more selfish, and self-centered.
Reasons that made me shower, shave, and moisturize… then put on the skimpiest pair of underwear possible.
They were on their way here, to my place, presumably to pick me up. To take me out again and show me off, the way they had the first time. I was hoping such a date would end the same way, as well. With me sandwiched between them, being held and pampered and kissed all over.
Among other things.
I was totally surprised by an early knock on the door. They arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, looking casual yet still incredible in shirts that barely stretched over their massive frames, and jeans that were tight at the crotch.
“Change of plans, gorgeous.”
Before I could ask what he meant Adam swept me against his chest, kissing me like he owned me. As I kissed him back, I thought maybe he did. At least, a part of me anyway.
“Don’t hog our girl, man.”
The kiss broke way before I wanted it to, and suddenly I was helpless and lost in Dante’s arms.
Our girl. He’d said ‘our girl’...
The words filled me with a strange new excitement, even as Dante lowered his lips to my shoulder and began kissing his way upward. His mouth continued working along my bare neck, his soft lips gently probing and prying mine apart as he finally reached my mouth.
Our girl…
I opened with a soft moan, eager to admit his hot, questing tongue. I could feel myself melting all over. My legs, totally going to jelly.
FUCK.
It was all happening so fast! I thought it might be awkward seeing them again, at least after what happened, but it was just the opposite. Every feeling, every emotional reaction and gut instinct I’d experienced on our first date was back again. And not just back, but maybe even stronger than ever.
“I… I…”
In less than a minute or two I’d become a stuttering, shaking mess. I was staring blankly at Adam, who was grinning back at me. Dante had gone back to kissing my neck again.
“W—What change of plans?”
“We’re staying in,” Adam announced, unlacing his boots. He kicked them off, then started walking my place like he’d lived there for years. “We decided we wanted a date more like yours and Trey’s. You know, stay in and get to know each other. Netflix and chill.”
Netflix and—
I laughed, and Dante stopped kissing me abruptly. His brows crossed in confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
“Trey and I hardly Netflixed,” I declared proudly. “And we certainly didn’t ‘chill’.”
“Whatever,” said Dante, his lips going back to my neck. He was giving me the shivers. The entire right side of my body was numb with the most amazing tingles. “It’s definitely movie night.”
Adam was already in the kitchen, searching my cabinets and drawers. He came back with a brown bag of cheap microwave popcorn, and an expression of underlying disgust.
“It’s the best I have,” I shrugged.
He tilted his head. “I guess it’ll have to do,” he said. “Unless you’ve got other, better snacks…”
For the next ten minutes we rifled though my little kitchen, taking apart the contents of my pantry, the fridge, even the freezer. We ended up with a bowl of microwave popcorn, a couple of toasted pretzels, and ‘poor-man’s nachos’ — the latter consisting of little more than tortilla chips sprinkled with tiny bits of shredded string cheese and then nuked in the microwave. A bottle of Merlot rounded out our feast, courtesy of the second-to-last rung in my 6-position wine rack.
“Sorry but we came straight from our trip,” Dante apologized. “We didn’t bring anything but ourselves.”
That’s fine, I thought happily. It’s the only thing I really wanted.
“Next time we’ll come better prepared,” Adam promised me. “A case of beer, a bouquet of flowers. Maybe some candles, to keep things romantic…”
“Romantic I can do,” I said, grabbing the smaller of two remotes next to the couch. Three clicks later, I had the lights dimmed to 30% of normal. “How’s that?”
Dante leapt nimbly over the arm of my sofa, landing in my usual spot. Adam took the other end, a wine glass in each hand.
“Fanfuckingtastic,” he declared, patting the middle cushion.
Twenty
“HANNAH”
The movie was stupid, but not as stupid as our pretense for watching it. It was more of an excuse to be close. To snuggle up together, with me in the center. Sandwiched between the two hot g
uys who were taking turns making out with me on my couch…
Not that I was complaining, mind you.
The shitty movie could go on forever, as far as I was concerned. Every ten minutes or so, they switched off on me. And each time we did, our kissing and touching and groping progressed a little bit further.
They’re slow-playing it, I realized. Trying not to scare you off, just like Trey said.
Regardless of speed, we all knew where the night was going. I was as eager to get there as they were… but first, I needed a little more information.
“Tell me about yourself,” I murmured to Adam, between kisses.
It was almost comical, the way he spread a hand against his own chest. “Me?”
“Yes. I want to know everything.”
Adam looked back at me sweetly, kissing me some more. When I stopped his hand from inching further up my thigh however, he paused.
“C’mon,” I pleaded, this time addressing Dante as well. “I know virtually nothing about you guys. Give me something.”
They looked at each other with shrug-like expressions, then sat up a little straighter on the couch. Dante poured more wine, into my glass as well as his.
“Alright,” said Adam. “What do you want to know?”
“The normal stuff first,” I said innocently. “Where you work. What you do. That sort of thing.”
I stretched out between them, listening, letting them go back and forth. Hearing their answers to the more mundane background questions — the pre-game as I called it — before I finally got to the good stuff.
