by Jo Raven
The fuck, right?
“I know about your mom.” He says it so casually, when it’s a fist in my guts, leaving me winded.
I’m pretty sure I hide it well, sitting up and wiping my face with my towel, erasing all trace of shock. “Yeah?”
“Rafe’s dad was good friends with yours, once upon a time. Rafe says your mom—”
“Rafe talks too fucking much.” I push to my feet. “His dad, too.”
“His dad is dead. Like your mom. The point is…” He sighs, gets to his feet, too. He’s really tall, slightly taller than me, and it’s disconcerting, looking up at his face. “Not sure what the point is.”
Awesome. Shaking my head, I turn to go.
“Ryan.”
I stop, square my shoulders, not sure I want to hear whatever it is he has to say. “What?”
“For a long time, Rafe kept his distance because the guilt of what happened to his family crushed him. You don’t have to be alone. If there’s something weighing on you...”
“Nothing’s weighing on me,” I rasp, my voice gone rough.
“But if you—”
“My mother died because of her heart.” The words catch in my throat. “It was nobody’s fault.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Don’t be.”
It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear it, and I don’t want to think about death, her death, and what it means for me.
Not today.
***
Starting to rue the moment I ask for Brylee and Riddick’s phone numbers yesterday morning in my apartment, I check my phone again and swear at myself.
Stop waiting. Stop doubting they’ll come. Call them.
Okay, fine.
I call Brylee first, walking up and down my living room, feeling like a school kid asking a pretty girl to the prom. I’m on my second round when she answers, and I halt so suddenly I almost fall over.
“Hi,” she says, and I smile hearing her voice. “Are we still going?”
I lick my dry lips. “Don’t you want to?”
“Yes, I do,” she whispers with the hint of a smile, and heat works its way up my chest to my face and neck. “Are we leaving tomorrow?”
“I haven’t talked to Riddick yet,” I admit. “I’m going to call him after I hang up with you.”
“No need. I called him. He’s coming with us.”
A brief sting at the realization the relationship between them is so much tighter than with me, that she and he talked before talking to me—but then the essence of her words sinks in.
My smile stretches wider. “That’s awesome news.”
Besides, I knew she’s in love with him, and he all but told me he’s in love with her. Despite her insistent, funny attempts to take me out for drinks, I’m the extra wheel here.
I push that thought and its bitter tail down deep, where it belongs.
Just a weekend of fun. That’s all this is about.
“I’ll pick both of you up, say around nine?” I say. “Grab some warm clothes and a toothbrush, that’s all you’ll need.”
“That’s all?” she repeats quietly, and that simple question opens up all possibilities and sends a white-hot bolt of lust through me.
I want to tell her I’ve got everything we need. That I could be all they need, in every way.
But I say nothing at all.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Roll-in-the-sheets Crepe Flambé
Brylee
It was Riddick who said he’d rather leave on Saturday morning, because he’d be working overtime today, but to tell the truth, I’m glad.
I’m not ready, and I don’t mean just the packing. After all, Ryan did say I only need some clothes and my toothbrush.
No idea why it sounded so sexy when he said it…
No idea what I think I’m doing, agreeing to this weekend, either.
Hence the need for more time. Time to think, to pack my sexiest underwear, unpack it, pack it again, and jump into my car to go talk to my bestie.
Candy opens the door, hugs me tightly, then leads the way back to the sofa where she clears away piles of books and notes for me to sit.
She’s studying, which reminds me that I should also be studying for my English literature class. I’ve kind of… ignored it in recent days, or weeks, what with the sky raining men.
Okay, not really, but with my preoccupation with Ryan and Riddick, it’s a miracle I didn’t make any serious mistakes at work, and that’s me, the perfectionist analyst. The perfectionist everything, who planned her wedding and her future home in case her future husband decides he has an opinion.
I mean, guys know nothing about weddings and homes. Fact of life. A girl has to think ahead.
What was I…? Oh yes. I was preoccupied.
Still am.
“Tea?” Candy asks, giving me a narrow look, and I nod, petting the books she has pushed to the side.
“Where are your boyfriends?”
Always an effort for me to call them that, to think of them as such, but strangely these past weeks it has been getting easier. The concept doesn’t feel curious anymore.
It feels familiar.
“They went jogging.” She returns with two steaming mugs. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I study her closely, watching out for signs of her pregnancy, hoping it’s not catching. “Feeling okay?”
I wonder when she’ll start to show. I may have planned two and a half children for my future, but I never spared much thought to the logistics of the creation of those children.
“Yes.” She beams at me. She doesn’t look any different, except for her boobs. I think they look bigger. “I’m not sick all the time anymore.”
“Ah… good?” I cringe.
I hate nausea. You couldn’t pay me enough money to even step on a boat, let alone puke my guts out for months on end. Just the thought… Jesus.
Maybe I could adopt.
“You said you wanted to talk to me about something,” Candy says, sipping her tea. Her blond hair is pulled back in pigtails and her black-rimmed glasses sit atop her nose. She’s every inch the intellectual nerd with her long Star Wars T-shirt and Death Star leggings.
The only thing missing is the Darth Vader mask and some heavy breathing.
Speaking of heavy breathing…
“How do you have sex with two guys at once?”
She splutters, spitting tea all over me. “What?”
I wipe a hand over my face, lick my lips and blink sugar-crusted lashes. Girl likes her tea sweet. “I said—”
“I heard you.”
Then what is her issue? Maybe pregnancy makes you go bananas?
Deciding it must be the hormones, I resume where we left off. “You haven’t replied.”
“Bry…” Candy puts on her long-suffering face. It’s wrinkly and googly-eyed.
“Yes?”
“I know you don’t really approve of me being with two boys, so you don’t need to tease me about it, okay?” Red splotches appear on her cheeks and her eyes fill up.
Hormones. Definitely. I mean, I get like that before my period, too.
“I’m not teasing you,” I say in the soothing voice I use with my cat before she scratches me and scrambles away. “And I do approve of you and your boys.”
“You do?”
I thought we’d cleared that up months ago, but maybe I didn’t come out and quite say it that way. “You love them. They love you. You’re all happy. Heck, you have a baby on the way. Seems to me it’s working out great.”
“Oh, Bry!” She splashes me again with her tea as she slams it down on the coffee table and wraps her arms around me. “Thank you for saying that. You don’t know how much better it makes me feel.”
I pat her back awkwardly, hardly able to breathe, because—good God, her boobs are like water balloons, pressing into my chest.
My boobs are decent-sized, but suddenly I feel flat-chested.
“Candy.” I push her back f
irmly so that I can breathe again. “I’m sorry I made you feel awkward.” I consider this. “I grew up in a conservative home. Sure, my mom’s the best, and we talk freely and everything, but…”
“But not about threesomes.”
How did she guess?
I make a face. “Yeah. Mom is all about how to catch a good husband and what to look out for, not threesomes, and certainly not sex.”
Though come to think of it, last time she changed her tune quite a bit. Those things she said sounded an awful lot like talk of love.
There are men worthy of your heart, she said. Don’t be afraid to give it away, to take a risk on someone.
Hm…
“Sex?” Candy repeats my last word, giving me a suspicious look, grabbing her mug again.
I lean back, to avoid more splashing and to hide the fact I’m blushing like a virgin.
Which I am.
Technically. Only technically.
Oh God.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Candy demands. “I thought you said besties had no secrets?”
I said that? “I did come to talk to you. I—”
“Did you have sex with them?”
I snap my mouth shut and examine my nail polish. It’s a bit chipped.
Dang.
“Bry…”
“No, I didn’t have sex.” I shake my head. “The hymen still holds strong.”
She snorts. “You mean you had other kinds of sex? With two guys at the same time?”
“How did you know it was with two? Did I give myself away by asking about threesomes?”
Now she chokes on her tea and I grab the mug before the rest of it ends up all over me. “Wait, you did? You’re not kidding?”
“Well, I didn’t expect you of all people to be shocked. You are the only person I know who is in a relationship with two dudes.”
“But… it’s you.”
I definitely am me, that’s true. Chipped nail polish and all. “Meaning?”
She waves her hands about.
Then waves them again.
“I can’t read Sign Language,” I tell her.
“You once told me that I was greedy, going after two guys! And that I should focus on one! And… and…”
“And I came to terms with it.” Didn’t we discuss this three minutes ago? “Besides, what does it have to do with sex?”
Candy opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “I’m going to make more tea,” she announces, and scurries away to the kitchen.
Hormones. They drive you mad.
Adoption is the way to go.
***
“Sex…” Candy says, placing two fresh mugs of tea on the kitchen table where I followed her.
“Is a three-letter word,” I agree. “So it fits.”
“With what?”
“With threesomes.” I sit back smiling, not sure why this arithmetic symmetry pleases me.
Numbers. They never fail you.
“What exactly do you want to know?” She sits across from me. “By the way, who are the lucky guys? Tell me one of them is Riddick.”
My face is burning. “Yes, Riddick. And Ryan.” Another symmetry. R & R.
Like Candy’s boyfriends, J & J. Joel and Jethro.
But she doesn’t seem to find this promising. “Ryan? Really? Again?”
“I’ve never slept with him before.”
“Bry, God. You said he’s an ass. You said he hurt you. How can you go back to him?”
I shrug. “He’s the one who came to me. You said I should stop running after him. I stopped.”
“He ran after you?” Her face twists. “Okay. That’s… good, I guess. You don’t think he’s a douchebag anymore?”
“Someone had to see through his tough front,” I say primly.
But it’s true, isn’t it? I did see through it. And he is kind underneath it all—and sexier than I imagined. What this means for the future, though?
Probably nothing. Because…
“I have a problem,” I whisper. “I want them both.”
“Want?” Candy whispers back. As if we’re discussing something illegal. “As in lusting? Is this just about experimenting? Because I gotta say, this is coming out of the blue.”
What can I say? She’s right. I’m shocked at myself, too.
It’s ridiculous. This isn’t like me. I can’t be in lust with two guys. Can’t want them both. Yet here we are.
“They’re growing on me.”
“Like fungus?”
“No, Candy.”
“Like creepers?”
“Stop it.”
Both. I want them. Seriously, between Ryan and Riddick… how can I choose? How can I split my heart in two? One is dark with a heart of gold, and the other golden with a darkness in his soul.
I can’t choose. I don’t want to. It’s not fair.
Please don’t make me.
“Help me.” I reach across the table for her hand. “Ryan invited us for the weekend to his lake house, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Whoa.” Her eyes are round like coins. “Out of the blue and into the fast lane. He invited both of you? Is Riddick going, too?”
I nod, and resist the urge to chew on my nails.
“So, you’ve… what, kissed? Together?”
I nod again, swallow hard.
“On the mouth, only?”
I shake my head, more heat spilling in my cheeks when I remember Ryan’s mouth on my pussy, Riddick’s on my breasts.
“Did you…?” She pretends to lick ice cream.
Or… maybe something else?
Oh.
“No. I’ve never done that.” There. If the skin doesn’t blister right off my face, it will be a mercy.
“Girl…” Candy shakes her head. “There’s a lot of ground to cover before you leave for a weekend with the boys, no matter what you feel for them.”
“I don’t feel anything,” I say automatically.
It’s lust, pure and simple, like she said. Can’t be anything else, anything more.
Candy and her boys are in love with each other. That’s obvious.
But this is different, I tell myself firmly. I’m not in love. With either of them.
And neither are they. Right? So let’s cut this line of thought right there.
“There are websites you should read,” she says, getting up, presumably to get her laptop or tablet. “And videos to watch. Both for threesomes, and for the usual stuff, like how to give a blowjob. Yeah?”
Yeah, I think as she wanders out of the room.
Yeah, yeah, yeah… I’ve done a few searches. Watched a few vids. I didn’t need Candy to tell me this.
So why did I come over?
I guess I needed… a confirmation? An answer. Whether I’ve gone off my rocker, deciding to go for a weekend with R & R. Deciding I want them both. Deciding I want to experiment.
Maybe even have real intercourse. I thought I didn’t care if I waited years and years, but now, presented with these two sexy specimens of manhood, well… I’m not sure I can.
Temptation is real.
Candy returns, armed with her laptop, and she opens a few sites for me, reminds me about condoms and safety, and asks if I talked to the boys about my limits.
I laugh nervously. “Limits?”
“Are you open to anal, for instance?”
Oh my God.
Anal.
Here my pussy is still walled up, and we’re talking about sneaking in through the back door.
The tiny back door.
She must see something in my face, because she closes her laptop and grimaces at me.
“Look, most girls start out easy and simple,” she says. “One guy. One thing at a time. You want to go from virgin to vixen. And there’s nothing wrong with that, just… be careful, okay? Take care of yourself. Remember you can say no at any time, if anything gets too much for you. There is nothing you have to do. If something scares you, or hurts, just stop them. You should be
having pleasure and only that.”
Pleasure is all I remember from my one night with Ryan and Riddick. “Thank you, Candy. You’re the best. Best friend evah. I’ll bake cookies for you.”
She winces. “Please don’t. Promise you’ll be careful, and keep your phone on and text me to let me know you’re all right?”
I nod vigorously and smile at her. Oh God, tomorrow I’m leaving town with the boys. I can hardly believe it. With excitement filling my chest like helium, soon I’ll be talking like Donald Duck.
So I make my goodbyes quickly and head back home to do my homework and prepare my overnight bag.
It’s on.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tarte a la Ménage
Riddick
Hefting my duffel bag with a change of clothes and my toothbrush and toothpaste, I step out onto the sidewalk and stop.
I worked overtime at the warehouse yesterday, and did a double shift at Fritters, so I came home late. I nuked a frozen burrito and swallowed it whole, then fell face-first into my bed and didn’t move until morning, not even with my back killing me.
Something I rediscovered in the morning as I limped around groaning like I was dying. Felt like it, too.
After two cups of strong, black coffee I thought I was wide awake, but the deep blue Wrangler Jeep I see waiting on the street looks like a mirage in a desert. Beautiful, shiny, brand new, for sure damn expensive.
Ryan rolls down the window and nods at me. “Hey, Rid. Climb in.”
I stare. It’s really him, his blond hair falling on his forehead, a smirk on his face. He looks damn good. So good my dick wakes up too and waves hello, straining inside my pants.
Goddammit. How does he do that? That smirk is grabbing me by the balls.
Then the backseat window rolls down, too, and Brylee waves at me, her ginger curls gleaming in the pale morning light, and her eyes shining. The curve of her long neck where it meets her delicate jaw, the smile tugging on her full lips…
Groaning inwardly, my dick going from semi- to rock hard, I make it to the jeep and climb inside, next to Ryan, stowing my duffel at my feet.
“Hey,” I say, and jerk when slender hands slip around my neck and her scent surrounds me.
“Rid,” Brylee whispers in my ear, and I shiver in pleasure at her nearness. “You made it.”
