by Jayne Rylon
Yet, the bond growing between them, and the feelings it evoked were strong enough to counteract decades of misery.
Afterward, they’d spent a few hours discussing other techniques for managing anxiety and desensitization to her phobia triggers. At one point, she’d even managed to open the door to Becca’s closet and step across the threshold with the door open. She’d stood there for a solid thirty seconds before memories encroached on the present.
The moment her hand flew to her heart, blasting the terror clawing at her with rays of sunshine and hope, Luke had dragged her out into the light and his warm, welcoming arms. He’d held her tight, running his hands up and down her back before burying his fingers in her hair and kissing all her lingering memories into oblivion.
They’d gotten a bit carried away until Kurt cleared his throat and declared it was time for dinner. Luke hadn’t bothered to listen, continuing to make out with her until the last of her tremors had morphed into bonelessness.
Hours later, that lassitude had only grown. After strolling past several crowded restaurants that set her on edge, given the freshness of her anxiety from the day’s sessions, they had settled on one of Becca’s favorites. It quickly became Brielle’s too. A large, open deck granted them views of downtown and excellent people watching.
Conversation had flowed effortlessly about music, books, movies, school, jobs, mutual friends and aspirations. Brielle had admitted she’d like to take cooking classes someday when she could afford the tuition and the time to attend.
“If those cookies you made yesterday are any indication, I think you’ll do really well in the culinary arena.” Kurt patted his stomach. “I’m stuffed, but I think dessert might be in order now that you’ve got me thinking about those sweet treats.”
Luke handed her the menu. “Anything that catches your eye?”
She considered trying the lemon raspberry cheesecake. “I would only be able to handle a few bites. I don’t want to waste it.”
“Split it with me then?” He scooted closer on the bench seat. “I’ll return the favor for you feeding me cookies in bed last night.”
“So I guess there’s no hope there might be some left?” Kurt scratched his chest with his middle finger in a not-so-subtle message to his best friend. “Sharing is caring, you know.”
“He probably has a point.” She rested her chin on her fist, peering between Becca, Kurt and Luke.
“Hey. Whose side are you on, Cookie?” Luke peered at her.
“Well, I mean, he has shared his wife with you.” Brielle laughed at the alarm on the men’s faces. As if she would be upset about something they did before they’d met her. It might have been awkward, butting in the middle of their history, but it wasn’t. Not after all she’d revealed to them today.
Besides, they accepted her as part of Luke. Her admission to their club was free when she accompanied him. Would it still be if their relationship soured? Could she measure up to those special times the trio had shared? Luke gave her every indication she did. Maybe even exceeded them, though the magnitude of that idea blew her mind.
Afraid to bank on continuing to satisfy him, she reserved her judgment for after they’d gotten to the heart of her issues. What would he say when he knew about the darkness at her core?
“I’m definitely going to need dessert, and maybe another glass of wine, if we’re going to talk about this. Friend to friend. No doctors at this table.” Becca flagged down their waiter and placed her order. Luke requested a slice of cheesecake.
“Shouldn’t we ask for two forks?” she suggested.
“Nah.” Luke waved her off. “I’d rather you eat from mine.”
His decadence made her groan. “Remember, you have to sleep alone tonight too, buddy.”
“Don’t remind me.” He winked at her. “Ever get it on in the back of a tiny sports car before? Maybe they won’t notice.”
“I’m pretty sure there isn’t room for me to tie my shoe in that thing. You’d have to be a contortionist to give a blow job in there.”
His eyes widened. “We could try.”
“It’s possible.” Becca flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her sleeve.
Brielle laughed. Genuine curiosity got the best of her. If they were willing to talk… “I’ve never done anything very adventurous in the bedroom. Well, not before this week anyway. So, what was it like to be with two guys?”
Both Luke and Kurt leaned in to catch her answer.
“I’m not going to lie. It was phenomenal.” Becca looked pretty smug as she explained. “I mean, if it were two random guys, I’m sure it could be fun. But when it was the man of my dreams and a man we both respect and trust…well, that’s a recipe you can’t screw up. They always made me feel precious. I think what I adored the most about those times was how safe I felt and how beloved. I could lie back, knowing they would attend to everything, or I could take whatever I pleased, and they would cheer me on.
“Plus it’s a pretty great place to be when once just isn’t enough and there’s another guy waiting to go. Sometimes they’d take turns until I spent so long coming that one orgasm led to another and another with no break in between. I was so spoiled. And I relished every minute.”
Kurt tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We can look for someone else if you still need that, baby.”
“I think I’m ruined now.” She smiled. “I can’t imagine anyone other than you and Luke. There’s no one else I’d trust enough.”
Brielle couldn’t have explained what drove her to speak before considering the ramifications of the stray thought that popped into her mind. Maybe the exhaustion creeping over her after a long, draining day. Maybe the glass of excellent zinfandel she’d had with her grilled chicken. Or maybe honest desire she felt comfortable enough to express in the company of close friends. But once she put it out there, it was impossible to take back. “Maybe we can arrange a trade sometime. Two for you. Two for me.”
“You wouldn’t want to scratch her eyes out for touching me?” Luke sounded a little hurt by her suggestion.
“Of course I would, but maybe I could sit on my hands, or go first so that I’m too worn out to attack her or something.” She blushed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“No no.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “Never be afraid to tell me what you’re thinking. You just…surprised me. Again. That’s all.”
“Frankly, me too.” Kurt scratched his chin. “But the idea has merit.”
Becca laughed. “Oh really, Dr. Foster?”
Her husband was dead serious when he said, “Yeah. I wouldn’t have a problem pleasing her if it meant you get what you need in exchange.”
The stiffness of Luke’s body faded and he leaned forward. “Sorry, Brielle. I guess I forget you haven’t done all the wild things I have. If I were in your position, I’d be curious too. Just because we met at different stages of our lives, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to experience everything you wonder about. I just hope that in the end, you’re still satisfied with me. I’ve done it all, and I’m certain. You’re what I want.”
“It was just a thought.” She took his hand and squeezed. “Everything between us is so new. I think I’m just off balance. My whole life is different today than it was a week ago. It’s making me reconsider everything I thought I knew.”
Before he could respond, the waiter returned with their indulgences. If only all cravings were so easy to satisfy, life might be less complex.
“I’ll give you anything you need.” Luke plucked the fork from the table, scooped up a bite of cheesecake drizzled with chocolate and held it out to her.
“Thank you.” She accepted his offering, cleaning the tines with little licks. “Mmm.”
“Oh yeah, this might not be a bad idea.” Kurt grinned at his wife.
“Not to be the Debbie Downer, but I think there are some other things to put in order before Brielle starts getting fancy. It worries me a little that
she and Luke are already… Well…” Becca waved her napkin in their direction.
“The timing was not ideal,” Luke agreed. “But what in life is? I’m just glad we found each other. I think it was meant to be. She came to me for help. We’ll do this together. Both of you too. We’re all in it now.”
Their commitment and concern for her in all its different forms touched Brielle. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with the quality linen napkin. When had she ever eaten dinner somewhere that didn’t have paper? And now, twice in one week.
She opened her mouth. Then closed it again.
Finally, she realized they were all looking at her. Smiling.
“All I can say is thank you. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s all I can give.” She held each of their gazes for a few seconds. “Really. Thank you.”
Kurt looked to Luke. “I can see why you fell hard. You are so screwed. I can’t wait to watch you make a fool of yourself. Just like I did.”
Becca snapped her napkin at her husband, laughing. “Behave yourself.”
“Make me.” He dipped his finger in the raspberry sauce garnishing her plate then stole a taste.
“Don’t make me take you back to the laboratory.” She blushed. “Then again, I think you might have liked it when I bossed you around.”
“I think I did too. Maybe we’ll have to try that again sometime.” Kurt’s eyebrows rose as he looked to Luke. “Will you stand backup to make sure she lets me loose this time? Unless you just want to check out my naked, trussed body again. I am pretty sexy, or so I’ve been told.”
“Holy shit, Becca.” Luke covered his eyes. “You’ve created a monster. I’m never going to get that image out of my brain.”
“Maybe I can help.” Brielle came to the rescue. She leaned over and whispered, “Becca and I could put you in his shoes instead. I’m pretty sure the two of us could replace your memories with something far hotter. Only fair if we’re each going to have both of you guys someday.”
“Ohhh-kay.” Luke took an enormous bite of their dessert then fed her one twice as large as the first. “Everyone hurry this course along. We might need a little private time before setting up the Dream Machine.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Kurt stared at his wife.
Becca gobbled her treat.
Brielle slid their plate toward Luke. She’d rather have what he was serving any day.
Chapter Sixteen
Luke gritted his teeth from his post in Kurt’s laboratory. He peered through the newly installed one-way mirror into the tiny bedroom, hardly worthy of a freshman dorm. Without windows, it couldn’t be comfortable for Brielle.
“Do we have to leave her in there alone?” He glanced to Kurt, who was busy adjusting knobs and dials on the latest, more sophisticated version of the Dream Machine.
“Is it you or her who’s having the hard time with this?” Kurt stopped what he was doing and crossed the tile floor so they stood shoulder to shoulder.
On the bed—which took up the majority of the space in what had been Kurt’s study while he completed his research, often working late nights—Brielle shifted, trying to get comfortable. Becca perched on the edge of the mattress, attaching diodes that would measure her patient’s vital signs.
“Personally,” Kurt said as he elbowed Luke in the ribs, “I think it’s hot. My wife, your girlfriend, in bed together…”
“You would, pervert.” He grunted. “Probably reminds you of getting it on with Becca for the first time during the original Dream Machine experiments.”
They observed Kurt’s new wife placing the sticky radio transmitters on the back of Brielle’s neck, on her upper chest and at her wrist. When she drew a harness from the hermetically sealed bin beside the bed, Brielle’s eyes grew wide.
“Yeah, that’s the doozy.” Kurt adjusted his junk. “Becca’s doing a great job of coaching Brielle through this. It makes me hard to see how fucking great she is at working with patients.”
“As long as you’re not sporting that wood thinking of my girlfriend wearing your damn vaginal probe.” Luke grimaced. “It’s bad enough she’s already considered letting you jump her bones.”
“That bothered you.” His best friend didn’t ask. He also didn’t look Luke in the eye.
“At first. Yeah.” Luke pressed his hand to the glass, wishing he could touch Brielle. Talk to her. In private. “I mean, it’s different with her, Kurt. I’m playing for keeps.”
“No kidding.” The smile that crept over the mad sex-scientist’s face was genuine. “You love her already.”
“Look at you, acting like an expert. Jesus. A little over a year ago, you didn’t believe such a thing even existed.” Luke hoped to deflect Kurt’s too-accurate intuition.
“Even a genius can be wrong occasionally.” A shrug accompanied his shit-eating grin. Still, he never once took his stare off his wife. “I’m not trying to discourage you. If it’s the real thing, and you damn well know it when you feel it, then you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me for admitting it right away. Protect it. Her. So nothing can take this shot at happiness away from you. You deserve it, Luke. More than I ever did.”
“Uh, wow. That’s a lot to digest.” Luke clapped his hand on Kurt’s shoulder.
“I have to admit. She’s one of the bravest women I’ve ever met. Look at that.” He pointed.
As if Luke had blinked.
On the opposite side of the damned glass, Brielle shimmied into the leather loops that would trap the vaginal probe inside her while data about her dreams, maybe her fantasies, was collected overnight. She managed to pull it beneath her loose nightgown, supplied by the Dream Lab, without showing too much skin.
Too bad.
As though she could sense his thoughts, she turned, lifted the hem and flashed him her bare ass.
“Whoa,” Kurt murmured his appreciation. “Nice tush.”
“About that…” Luke gulped, even as Becca laughed and clapped in the other room. “If that’s what she really wants, and Becca’s okay with it, I won’t say no.”
“There’s a world of difference between your permission and actually enjoying the show.” Kurt shook his head. “No. I won’t do it under those circumstances. It’s asking to fuck up some major feelings. If you get to a place where you want it too. Come talk to me.”
“Bastard.” And he was right too.
Neon green lines began to track across the screens that littered the data collection booth. Kurt rushed over to take notes. He hummed as he ticked off each sample of biometric data. “Your girl is holding up, Luke. She’s calm. Heart rate and blood pressure are stable. Her breathing is in the upper-normal range. And her pussy is hot as hell. Tight too.”
“Quit that.” Luke punched Kurt in the biceps when he smirked.
“Hey, just the facts.” He held his clipboard in front of him to ward off future attacks.
Becca rose from the bed, dimming the lights. She knew better than to douse the space in total blackness. She waved to Brielle, who returned the gesture then angled her face toward the mirror and blew Luke a kiss as if she could sense exactly where he stood.
“Goodnight, Cookie. Sweet dreams.” He pulled up a chair and tried to get comfortable. It was going to be a long night.
A scream pierced the glass-and-concrete wall, startling Luke from sleep.
He’d nodded off with his cheek pressed to the one-way mirror, smooshing his face into a wrinkled mess he was sure Kurt had snapped a photo of with his smartphone. He’d probably see it on Facebook later with an obnoxious caption all the doctors in the psych department could chime in on. He laughed, not minding taking one for the team.
He blinked, trying to generate some moisture in his dry eyes. After staring at Brielle sleep for hours, he must have eventually caved to exhaustion.
Another scream had him bolting to his feet, realizing what had woken him. “Brielle!”
Becca was right behind him.
“Her readings are shooting off the chart.” Kurt shou
ted from his station in the laboratory. “Abort the collection phase. Wake her up, Luke.”
As if he planned to let her suffer.
“Careful! She’s going to fight you.” His friend filled him in as he crossed the handful of steps to Brielle. “I’m watching her dream. She’s trying to escape a guy before he stuffs her in a closet. Hurry, Luke. Get her out of there. Becca, hang back.”
Brielle thrashed, crashing through the paralysis usually associated with REM sleep. “No. Don’t put me in there. Don’t leave me.”
Luke’s heart broke as he tried to rouse her from the nightmare of her father’s house.
“I take it back. I didn’t mean it. No! Don’t put me in there. Please. No.” She clawed at him as he shook her, trying to bundle her into his arms. Then she went limp before punching and kicking the air. “Let me out. Don’t leave me like this! Brad!”
Brad? What the fuck? It was her father she’d escaped by running into the closet, only being trapped at the end, after he’d been shot by some druggie or bookie. Not the man who’d kept Brielle as some wounded pet he could take advantage of whenever he felt like it. Right?
His stomach fell through the floor as he realized she hadn’t divulged all of her past trauma. What else hadn’t she told him about?
“Cookie, it’s me. Luke.” Worried she might injure herself, he pinned her arms to her side despite the cries emitting from her when he restrained her completely. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. Come back to me, Brielle. Please. Wake up.”
Caught in the horror, she didn’t respond.
“Try something else!” Kurt shouted from the next room. “It’s bad. God, it’s bad.”
Unsure of what to resort to when shaking her and calling to her didn’t work, he followed his instincts. Softly, he began to sing the first song that came to mind, “I Got You Babe”.
