The Choice

by Alice Ward

  When Grant withdrew his fingers, I felt the loss. Then anticipation swam in my belly as the condom package hissed open, and he was there, hands on my hips, his cock at that vulnerable entrance.

  Looking over my shoulder, I wished I could see, but the angle was all wrong. I wanted to watch his eyes as he took me like this.

  As if he knew what I was thinking, he stepped away, but a moment later was rolling a full-length mirror to the foot of the bed. “Better?”

  I smiled, tears pricking my eyes. “Thank you.”

  From the way he smiled back, I knew he knew I was thanking him for many reasons.

  In the reflection of the mirror, I watched him move behind me again, his cock touching me. Nash slowed his pulsing hips, keeping me still.

  “Take a deep breath,” Grant said, and as I inhaled, he pressed forward, causing me to cry out.

  Nash linked his fingers with mine, and his head also turned to watch the three of us in the mirror.

  The reflection was so sensual, so erotic. And it was also humbling. These big, beautiful men had chosen me to pleasure.

  Grant moved, and a white-hot flare of pain seared through me, and I dropped my head to Nash’s neck, biting my lip to stop from screaming.

  What the hell?

  Why did people like this?

  The novels had it wrong. There wasn’t a burst of pain and then wild and crazy pleasure. This was crazy. Just plain crazy.

  Tears spilled from my eyes and onto Nash, and I was ready to shout at Grant to stop, beg him to stop, scream at them both to leave me alone.

  I was too full.

  From Nash.

  From Grant.

  I was being torn in two.

  “Look at me, Journey.”

  With more effort than it should have taken, I opened my eyes and met Grant’s gaze in the mirror. His face was twisted in agony too. Agony of a different type. An agony opposite of mine.

  He wanted this, but I knew he would stop if I asked. That knowledge allowed me to relax, and as I did, the pain lessened as if by some miracle.

  “That’s right, baby.” Grant smiled, smoothing a hand up my spine. “Let me in. Trust me. Accept me.”

  Accept him.

  When I stopped fighting, it became easier, and he slid the rest of the way home. He didn’t stop until his thighs touched my ass.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked.

  I looked at myself, tried to see what he saw. Red-faced and sweating profusely didn’t look very beautiful to me. But it was enough. Knowing he viewed me that way was enough.

  “Grant’s going to lead this, darlin’,” Nash explained, kissing my cheek. “His movements will affect our movement. Don’t fight it. Let us please you.”

  When Grant began to move, it was with microscopic bursts of his hips at first. When they grew longer and more powerful, my eyelids fluttered, especially on the out strokes. It was like a completely new set of nerves were engaged each time he withdrew.

  In caused pain, and it also moved me up Nash’s cock.

  Out caused pleasure, and it also impaled me on the man beneath me.

  Oh.

  I was impossibly stretched, impossibly full of both men.

  And I was impossibly crazy about both of them. And so very grateful to be here with them like this.

  My world narrowed down to the mirror in front of us. The pain became secondary to the fingers on my skin, the touch of their lips. Their encouraging words.

  As Grant picked up speed, pushing us all toward the edge, Nash groaned beneath me, gritting his teeth. He was close, I knew. So was I.

  He moved his hand until it was between us, and oh god, found my clit.

  “Ohh…”

  “That’s right, darlin’. Use me. Use us. Grind. Bite. Whatever you need.”

  No matter the situation, Nash always made me smile.

  Meeting Grant’s eyes, I reveled in his intensity.

  His nostrils flared, and he picked up speed again, plunging into me over and over until pain and pleasure became one.

  My orgasm built like a tidal wave, growing and strengthening with each stroke.

  Nash’s thumb brushed over my clit, and I threw my head back and wailed. The tidal wave consumed me, taking me under. I couldn’t see. I didn’t know if I’d closed my eyes or my vision had just completely grayed out.

  Nash cursed, his hands clenching me so hard I knew I’d have bruises. I collapsed on him while he came, no longer able to hold myself up.

  Completely shattered, I could do nothing but watch as Grant found his release, his head thrown back as he roared.

  When he collapsed on top of me, the only sound was our harsh breaths filling the room. Sweat coated our bodies, sealing us all together as I was trapped in the middle of a human sandwich I never wanted to leave.

  Very slowly, Grant rolled off and pulled me with him. After tossing the condom, he turned me until I was facing him, pressing his lips to mine.

  We didn’t talk. Not even when Nash curled up behind me, his hand coming around to cover my breast.

  This was my haven.

  These men.

  As I closed my eyes and surrendered to sleep, I hoped it wouldn’t become my hell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Nash

  The scotch burned as I finished off the glass and stared out of my best friend’s window.

  The New York lights glowed and sparkled, but they held little interest for me tonight.

  I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t get the last few hours out of my head.

  Grant.

  Journey.

  Me.

  The sex had been wild.

  So why was I so dissatisfied?

  Was it because it wasn’t my arms she’d fallen asleep in? Was it because it was in Grant’s arms she still remained? Was I just being a spoiled brat and wanted her all for myself?

  No.

  Well, maybe.

  Shit.

  Ten years ago, none of this would have mattered. Grant and I would share a girl and go about our day. Of course, none of those women had been Journey.

  She mattered.

  Damn it to all hell, she mattered.

  “You okay?”

  I hadn’t heard him approach, and I nearly dropped my fucking glass, but I managed to hold on to it. I headed back to the bar and poured me another, lifting an empty glass. He nodded, and I poured him one too.

  After handing him one that was nearly as full as mine and sitting on the couch opposite him, I held it up. “To Journey.”

  He clinked. “Yeah. To Journey.”

  Forcing myself back into Fun Nash, I smirked. “That was pretty wild, don’t you think? I mean, seriously. Of all the women in New York City, how in hell’s balls did we choose the same one?”

  He made a scoffing sound. “I know. In the same week.”

  I snorted and took a drink. “The way this thing is playing out, we probably met her on the same day.”

  Grant studied his drink. “I met her the day we sparred.” My mouth sagged, and he just shook his head. “You too?”

  “Yeah. I went for a run in the park, and she was teaching this senior citizen class. Some guy stole this old lady’s purse and she took off after him. Girl can run like the wind. I helped her take him down.”

  Grant was still shaking his head. “That was you? She told me the story about the purse snatcher. That’s incredible.”

  “So, when did you meet her?”

  He took a drink. “Before we sparred. I was heading for that landlord meeting across town and saw a firetruck in front of one of my buildings. Went in to see if I could help and there she was.”

  Un-fucking-believable.

  “You’re the son of a bitch who owns her building? The one who renovated her apartment?” I pointed a finger at him. “The one who let that pervy asshole on the first floor hang around?”

  Grant’s eyes narrowed, his face growing deadly. “Charlie Gains. What else has he done that she hasn’t tol
d me about?”

  I held up a hand. “Nothing bad. He’s just got a weird vibe about him, you know?”

  The scowl grew deadlier. “Yes, I know. And Journey promised to let me know if there were any problems.”

  I shrugged. “She’s a nice girl. Self-sufficient too. It would probably take a lot for her to come tattling to Daddy.”

  That almost got a smile from him. “True.”

  “You like her, don’t you?” Shit. That wasn’t what I wanted to say. “What I really mean is… are we okay with this?” I pointed between him and me. “Cause, I’m serious. I’ll set out.”

  He gazed into the amber liquid in his glass. “You like her too. She likes you.”

  “True, but man…” How did I say this? “I don’t do relationships because I simply like playing the field. You don’t do them because of…” I touched my lip in the same place his scar was. “If you open up to someone, it’s damn serious. In all these years, this is the first.”

  He met my eyes. “I don’t know. All this messes with my head.” I knew what it cost him to admit that. “All that old shit is right back in my face. I’m distracted. Can’t focus for shit. Plus…” he pointed at me, “I didn’t care that she was dating someone else, so just how serious could I be?”

  I stared at him, tried to read the poker-faced bastard. “So you knew she was seeing someone else?”

  He nodded. “She’s honest like that. No details, just facts.”

  “Yeah, she was like that with me too.”

  “Hey… are you all talking about me?”

  And there she was, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, but also brave.

  Damn. She’d chosen to wear Grant’s shirt, and the white looked good against her skin. She looked from Grant to me, then to the floor. It would be telling to see whose couch she went to first.

  “Can I get you anything?” Grant asked.

  Her stomach growled so loud we all laughed.

  Oh yeah, we’d fucked instead of ate.

  “We’ll warm up dinner.” Grant was on his feet, his entire face changing as he approached her. Journey glanced at me before taking his hand.

  Then… she did the sweetest thing. She held out her other hand for me.

  Warmed, I stood and took it.

  Yeah. Maybe Grant needed her, but maybe I needed her too.

  We all relaxed as we pulled the food from the fridge and began to warm up plates of prime rib and vegetables.

  We loosened up more by the time we’d finished a bottle of wine.

  I sat back in my chair, my hands covering my full belly. “Okay, so what’s the ground rules?”

  They looked at each other and then back to me. “What do you mean?” Journey asked.

  “Well, do we keep going like we’re going? You date us separately? We stick to threesomes from now on?” I held Journey’s gaze. “You make a choice. Him. Me. Neither.”

  She blushed and looked down at her hands.

  Grant scrubbed at his face but didn’t say anything. We both knew this ball needed to stay in her court.

  Finally, she looked up. “In my mind, when this all started, I gave myself the three weeks that Jaz is gone to be wild and free, and then I was going to go back to my old life with fond memories of the two of you.”

  She licked her lips and reached for wine, then chose the water instead. She took a long drink before continuing.

  “I thought that would be easy. After all, neither of you seemed interested in anything longer term.” She lifted her shoulder. “It was exciting and fun, and I don’t want it to be over.”

  The breath I didn’t realize had been lodged in my throat seeped out.

  “So… in my opinion,” I threw out, “it doesn’t need to be over. We’re adults, and if anything changes for any of us, we need to have the balls…” I glanced to Journey, “or the ovaries to discuss it.”

  They were both nodding.

  Journey licked her lips and blushed. “I’m glad. I might not have a lot of time to get together when Jaz gets back, but when I do… could we… I mean…”

  I laughed. I thought I might have been able to fry an egg on her face.

  “Say it, Journey,” Grant commanded in a low voice.

  She looked at him. Nodded and let out a breath. “When we can, can we do what we did tonight again?”

  I clapped my hands together loud. “Heck, yeah.”

  Grant smiled, and the look he was giving Journey gave her her answer. He stood, and with one hand, swept all the plates to the other side of the long table.

  Journey yelped when he picked her up and laid her on the clean surface. “We can start right now.”

  I stood and began unbuttoning her shirt. “We certainly can.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Journey

  The moment I wrapped my arms around my sister, my world righted itself, and I mentally stepped off the rollercoaster I’d been zooming around on for the past three weeks.

  And a part of me was sad. I’d miss having the extra time to be with Grant and Nash.

  But I pushed that part away and focused on listening to every single detail of Jazzy’s trip. She was the most important person in the world to me, and it had to stay that way. I could never let her down. Never.

  She was beaming, of course. Her sweet, wonderful self as she chatted about what she’d learned. Back at our apartment, she made me sit down on our new couch while she made a production of showing me each piece she created.

  She was getting really good.

  “And I made one for you.”

  This one was wrapped in paper, and I very carefully tore it off. And gasped. It was of a painting of me and Jaz that was so beautiful tears sprang to my eyes.

  “See there?” She pointed at a cloud.

  And I did see it. An angel was shaded so lightly into the heavens that it was easy to miss if you weren’t looking. I looked closer. “Oh, Jazz. It’s Mee-maw.”

  She beamed at me. “Good guess. I made it really hard to see her because that’s how it is now. She’s here but it’s hard to see.”

  My eyes. I didn’t even try to hold the tears back. I hugged her close and continued to listen to her stories. When she started playing with my heart bracelet, I remembered. “Oh. I have something for you too.” I hopped up and found the bag of things I’d purchased at the art festival.

  And that was how we spent our day, snuggling and sharing stories. The familiarity of my sister was like the warmest of blankets.

  But each time my phone made a sound, my heart skipped a beat.

  Without warning, Jaz sat straight up and bonked herself on the forehead. “I totally forgot to ask you about your dates!”

  I groaned, hoping she would have forgotten. She did that sometimes. Like a child, she tended to focus on what was in front of her. It wasn’t that she forgot much. If Grant walked through the door, she would recognize him immediately and begin chatting away. But if he wasn’t here, he was tucked back into a mental corner so she could focus on what was at hand.

  “They went well, actually.”

  She gave me a tell me more twirl of her hand. Leaving out almost all the details, I told her about Wicked and flying on a plane. I showed her the blue dress and shoes Grant bought me and laughed when she tried to walk in them.

  “What about you?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. “How were things with Jesse and Kyle?”

  She stuck out her tongue as if she’d tasted something bad. I wasn’t sure what that exactly meant, and a dozen mental images that would probably scar me for life flashed through my head.

  Please oh please don’t let me learn that she had that threesome after all.

  “Boys are stupid.”

  Oh. I leaned back on the sofa. This I could handle.

  “What stupid things did they do?”

  She rolled her eyes. “They got into a fight over me and got kicked out of camp.”

  I gaped at her. I’d talked to her on the phone a number of times and she never t
old me this.

  “When?”

  “The first week?”

  I grabbed my chest. It actually physically hurt to have been left out of this information. But this wasn’t about me. “Are you okay?”

  She huffed and crossed her arms over her middle. “Yeah. I just missed them. I had plans, you know?”

  I grinned. “Kisses?”

  She sighed. “Yes. So I just kissed David.”

  Oh. Dear. God.

  My voice squeaked. “Who’s David?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Just a fling. He’s gone now.”

  Reaching for the floor, I snatched up my glass of water and took a long drink.

  “Did you and David do more than kiss?”

  She raised her eyebrows at me. “That’s per-son-al.” She singsonged the words.

  My phone pinged, and I snatched it up. Jazzy snatched it from my hands. “Oh, it’s Grant.”

  I snatched it back. “It’s per-son-al.”

  She gave me a sour look. “I really do expect you to act better than me. That’s clearly not the case.”

  I laughed and hugged her. “Clearly.”

  Sneaking a look at my phone, I was warmed by Grant’s text message:

  Grant: Jaz make it home okay?

  Jasmine snatched at it again, but I held the phone over my head. “For your information, he’s asking about you. He wanted to know if you made it home okay.”

  She grinned. “He’s nice. Tell him I did but don’t tell him that I kissed three boys.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  Wouldn’t want him to think all this kissing ran in the family. I thought of our mother and wrinkled my nose.

  Me: She did and she’s wonderful. Look what she made me.

  I snapped a picture of my painting and fired it off.

  The reply was nearly instant.

  Grant: That’s really good. Professional good. I know some studio owners in the city. I should connect Jaz with them, see what they say.

  I gaped at Jaz and told her what he said, but instead of being excited, she ducked her chin to her chest. I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want people to see them.”

  I pushed her hair behind her ear. “Why not?”

  The chin went down even more. “Because people are mean. They say bad things about things you work on. I don’t want them to say bad things about my things.”