Wanted

by Palmer, Dee

  I’m not complaining, just stating a fact.

  “Oh, my God!” I cry out as his devilish tongue presses flat and firm, dragging along my wetness. His fingers slide easily into my body and twist slowly, coaxing my muscles to reawaken. His sweet and sensual movements pull more pleasure from my spent body. He is relentless.

  It was the same on our honeymoon, but I thought that was just because it was, well, our honeymoon, and the two weeks of utter heaven in his arms and under his body was the exception. I never expected it to be the rule.

  I let out sharp little breaths, feeling the build of pressure start to ripple though me. My eyes are squeezed shut, and every muscle protests with the involuntary exertion his attention is drawing from my helpless body. His heavy hand presses on my abdomen as my hips start to roll. His other hand slides under my bottom, gripping and pulling me against his urgent, insistent mouth and its heavenly dance against my most sensitive flesh.

  “Come for me, angel.” He exhales, and the burst of air makes me jolt. His fingers push deeper, and when his lips latch around my clit, I fall from the peak he has pushed me to once more. He keeps the pressure perfect until all the ripples of pleasure have ebbed and stilled. He languidly kisses a path from my clit up the centre of my body, over my tummy, between my breasts, brushing past my lips and playfully landing on the tip of my nose. I think I smile, but I can’t be sure my facial muscles are cooperating with my wishes. I know the rest of my body isn’t, because Charge has to drag my limp form back up the bed and drape it like a comforter over his own, manoeuvring me until I’m in my preferred resting position. My head is on his chest, arm across his torso, and our legs wrapped together like cooked spaghetti. The sun may be streaming through the shutters, but I fall instantly back to sleep.

  I rub the numbness in my cheek and the sleep from my eyes. I slept like the dead; it may have been five minutes, but it could’ve been five days. I feel like I have literally been fucked unconscious. It’s late morning, and I still haven’t actually made it out of our bedroom. I’m sitting upright, cross-legged, and sharing a steaming cup of coffee with my husband. The smile on my face, which has been a permanent fixture since Charge came back from the dead six months ago, got a little bit bigger once I became his wife. However, it’s only because it’s physically impossible to smile any wider without having a flip-top head. Today, however, it’s tempered with some troubling thoughts that have been niggling me, and I need to address. Number one rule, no secrets.

  “Have the others said anything to you?” I hand the cup back after taking a sip. The bitter taste makes my nose scrunch, and he chuckles. I welcome the hit of caffeine to wake me, but I prefer my morning brew with a bag, milk and lots of sugar. The need for a cup of tea is in my British DNA.

  “About?” He arches a brow, but his face is ever impassive.

  “About me.” I want to say, “Duh”, but the skin on my bottom is still glowing from last night, and judging by the look on his face, my tone holds just the right amount of sass. My bottom is safe for the moment.

  “They say lots about you; you’re gonna need to be more specific, angel.” He chuckles, and I purse my lips, because either he really doesn’t know, or he’s delighting in making this really awkward for me. Our arrangement hasn’t so much changed since the wedding, but some things have certainly shifted. One of those things being that Charge is adamant that he doesn’t want to talk about me in a sexual way with the others. Which in itself isn’t a problem. It’s not like I like to compare notes or anything, but it does make this conversation a little tricky. I draw in a deep breath, because there’s no subtle way to ask this.

  “Have they gone off me…gone off sex with me, I mean?” I grimace, swallowing back the dry lump in my throat. He was very specific after our honeymoon that he did not want to know, talk, or even joke about me being with the others. He never did share on his days, but he just took it to a whole new level after we were married, and I’m convinced this is the source of this new development. But my core insecurity will always default to the notion that they have gone off me first. He lets out a flat laugh and quirks his lips in a wry grin.

  “Not ever going to happen, but why do you ask?”

  “Okay. Well, here’s the thing, and I know you don’t like talking about this, but…” Pausing, I shift in my seat, pull my crossed legs up and wrap my arms around them, forming a tight defensive ball. I dip my eyes away from his serious glare.

  “Just say it,” he demands, but softly, so I know he isn’t really upset by the topic, it’s just, understandably, not one of his favourites.

  “I haven’t had sex with any of them for the last, um, I think it’s over a month now.” I give a tiny shrug, because my arms are locked rigid around my legs.

  “Really?” He uses his free hand to unpick my grip and pull me over to his side. I slide against his body, his arm holding me to his heat, and I tip my head to meet his gaze and carry on the conversation.

  “Yeah, really. I mean we—” Catching the twitch in his jaw, I halt mid-sentence, because he really doesn’t want to hear this, like any of it. I censor the details and just give him the facts. “Haven’t had sex, and I just wondered if they had said anything.”

  “They haven’t, but have you asked?”

  “I’m asking now,” I state as if talking to a small and possibly dim child. He tips his head and raises a warning brow at my tone.

  “I meant them. You know they are probably the best ones to answer this question,” he responds flatly, and I huff out a light puff of frustrated air.

  “Well, I know that now, Mr. Informative.” I roll my eyes and scoot back out of his reach as he tries to grab my retreating form without spilling the coffee.

  “Sass like that will get you a very sore ass.”

  “You know that’s not really a deterrent, right?” I quip, but jump back as he lunges for me, since he no longer holds his cup. I squeal and try to run, but he’s on me. His strong hands lift me high, spinning me effortlessly in the air, and plant me securely onto his shoulder. The long T-shirt I’m wearing barely covers my bottom, and he slaps his large palm sharply across the exposed skin. I scream and wriggle, but still when he swipes another hefty strike on my arse cheek.

  “Oh, please, continue, angel. We have all day to get your sass back where it belongs.” His deep gravelly voice causes the hairs on my neck to prickle with the sensual threat, but his tone is teasing. Since we are now heading out of our room, I’m pretty confident he’s not going to make good on that threat—yet. He strides along the corridor, passing Tug at the top of the stairs.

  “Meeting in the kitchen in five. Tug, can you get the others?” Charge calls back, and without breaking his gait, he bounces down the stairs. I have to grip his narrow hips for balance, as his flimsy boxer shorts are not up to the task. He places me on one of the kitchen stools and disappears out the back toward the utility room. He returns in a flash, wearing a fresh T-shirt and has slipped on some shorts over his boxers. I pout at his new PG-rated outfit, which makes his smile beam bright and wide. It’s involuntary and instant, and it makes him look so young and completely adorable.

  The thunder of footsteps shakes the house as Tug bounds down the stairs. Toxic followed Charge in from out back, and I can hear Pink’s truck pull up on the gravel outside. They each kiss my cheek and slide onto their preferred seats around the island. All eyes fall on Charge, who grins and points his finger directly at me.

  “Our wife has a question.” He isn’t shy about expressing his ownership of me in private, but when we are all together he’s considerate of the others’ feelings and is always all inclusive when referring to me. He has, however, completely shifted the focus of the room and dropped me right in it. He winks and completely ignores my gaping jaw and narrow-eyed scowl.

  “Fire away, sugar.” Pink flashes a dazzling smile my way, though I feel all their eyes on me. Shifting in my seat under the sudden intensity of each of their gazes, I suck in a breath and speak in a high-pitc
hed, rushed, and garbled mess of words.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, really. How about some fresh coffee, or I could make some brunch, maybe, it’s a little late for breakf—”

  “Sit back down,” Tug interrupts my word vomit, his beefy hand on my thigh, and I barely got one butt cheek off the stool before he was preventing my escape with his warning tone and his strong grip.

  “What’s got you all flustered, princess?” Pink’s head tips with curiosity, his brow furrowed and his lips quirked.

  “Come on, Finn. You can ask us anything. Surely you know this by now?” Toxic states emphatically, and each of them nod in agreement.

  “I know, I just…” I let out a long, slow breath and force a tight smile. I can feel my cheeks start to heat at the thought of having this conversation.

  “Oh, wow, this is going to be good,” Charge teases, and the others chuckle noticing the new tint to my cheeks.

  “Thank you, Mr. Helpful,” I snap, and he holds his hands up, biting his lips flat to stop a knowing, shit-eating grin at my discomfort. Arse hat.

  “I want to ask, do you not want to have sex with me anymore?” I close one eye, bracing for a slew of ‘what the hells’, but an unfamiliar silence blankets the men, and I can see them each pass furtive glances between one another. The odd raised brow and obvious shared understanding, just leaves Charge and me with expressions of utter confusion.

  “Oh, God, you don’t, do you?” I drop my embarrassed head in my hands.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Toxic and Tug say together, closely followed by Pink echoing their sentiment.

  “Of course we do, princess, it’s just…” Pink continues, then pauses, and I search his eyes, then Tug’s and Toxic’s. I can see love. I have absolutely no doubt about that, and tenderness, too. I can even see desire, so what the hell are they talking about?

  “Okay.” I state a little sharply, but I feel like my world is spiralling. I knew it was too good to be real. “It’s just what? I don’t understand. If you do still want me like that, then why aren’t we fu—”

  “Finn,” Charge growls his interruption, and I shake my head at his sensitivity. I pinch out a placatory smile and rephrase.

  “How come none of you have pursued that aspect of our relationship for weeks now?” I turn to Charge. “Was that better than saying fuck?”

  “Finn!” I wave him off and focus equally on the others. They have my attention for the moment.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. What can I do to fix this?” I soften the rising hysteria in my voice and plead for some understanding. I reach for Tug’s hand, and with the other, I share a hold with Pink and Toxic.

  “I don’t think it can be fixed, sweetheart,” Toxic says with a soft smile, and I shake my head.

  “Well, not having sex is not going to work. Unless you’re all intending on becoming monks?” I scoff out a humourless laugh.

  “That wasn’t our intention, no.” Pink dismisses my flip comment with a chuckle.

  “I don’t understand, this is what we all wanted. What’s changed?” My voice is breaking, and I look to Charge for some clarification, but he shrugs and happens to look as confused as I feel.

  “You.” Toxic speaks after a quick nod from his brothers.

  “Me?” I almost can’t get the word out, I’m in such shock.

  “You two, actually,” Pink continues, and judging by the way they are filling in for each other so seamlessly, it’s very obvious this is something they all feel equally.

  “We’re the same,” I protest.

  “Actually, you’re not.” Tug reaches over and lifts me onto his lap. I welcome the contact, the heat and the comfort, because I can feel myself start to break. This isn’t right. This can’t be happening, can it?

  “I don’t think that’s true.” I shake my head and look at each of them with pleading eyes. Toxic picks up where Tug left off. It’s like the worst tag team ever.

  “It wasn’t so obvious when you came back from the honeymoon, but the last few weeks it’s become more noticeable, and it’s definitely here to stay. Something changed. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and has been a game changer for all of us. Right, Charge?” Tug tags my husband.

  “Charge?”

  “Yeah.” He drags his hand through his thick dark hair, and I’m silenced by his confession. “I understand.”

  “Well, I bloody don’t,” I snap and twist to face Tug, making sure I level my fiery glare at each of them, including Charge.

  “We know you love us, Finn, that’s never in question. But you can’t deny there’s something more with Charge,” Pink states and, just as I’m about to protest, I’m silenced by the realization of the truth in his statement. It hits me hard in my chest, smashing my heart to smithereens.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” My voice catches, and I get a sudden and completely expected burst of tears on my cheeks. There’s a flurry of movement, and I’m closeted on all sides by the men who mean the world to me, each trying to assuage my breaking heart.

  “Sweetheart.” Tug kisses my hair.

  “Sugar, that’s not what we’re doing. We’re just trying to explain.” Toxic strokes my cheek, and Pink is on my other side.

  “Explain what, though?” My head is shaking away this new reality, but I can see this is very real for them. The game has changed.

  “Look, we love you; we all love you. And as much as we had planned for us to remain a unit, things have changed, and you can’t un-change them,” Pink states softly.

  “And none of us would want that anyhow. We’re happy for Charge and you, couldn’t be happier,” Tug adds, and Toxic finishes their collective thought.

  “But we can also see what we’re missing, and we talked it over, and we want the same.”

  “Charge, did you know about this?” My chest is heaving with emotion, and I’m calmed when he shakes his head.

  “First I’ve heard of it, angel, but I understand. It’s not like this was planned. I don’t believe any of us thought this would happen, but I know I definitely feel different when I know you’re with one of these guys than I did before we were married.” He shrugs.

  “So I’m responsible for breaking you all up. I hate this, I don’t want to be Yoko.” I sniff back the tears that are now trickling down my face, my nose is running so much I have to swipe the back of my hand to stop it from leaking onto the counter top. I’m a mess, and their comforting touches and words are just making things worse.

  “Princess, you’re not Yoko. We’re not in any rush. We still have you, just not in a sexual way.” Pink tries to soothe me.

  “So you are becoming monks?” I wail dramatically, which causes a burst of laughter. It strangely helps to ease my spiralling sadness.

  “No.” Tug chuckles.

  “Then what is the plan?” I dry my tears with my palms and suck in a steadying breath, exhaling when I feel I have gathered myself enough to hear what they have clearly been mulling. “How do you see this panning out, because this sounds a lot like ‘Oh, don’t worry about her, she’ll just sit in the corner of the studio with a triangle while we make a few more albums’.” I snort.

  “That’s cute, angel, but that’s not what this is,” Charge states, clearly on board with this idea far quicker than me.

  “It didn’t work before, because we were all dating for our own ends. We just assumed the girlfriends would get on.” Toxic explains, and I scoff with an unladylike laugh.

  “Yeah, exactly,” Pink agrees, and joins me with his own laughter. “Anyway, I think if we approach it the same way we did finding you, it will help.”

  “You’re going to advertise for another wife?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice or the hurt when it catches.

  “God, no! Sorry.” Pink rushes to clarify. “No, not at all. We want you to find us each a wife.”

  “What?” I gasp, and any hint of humour dies in my throat at the earnest expression on each of their handsome faces. They can’t be serious.

  “We figu
re the only important thing is that they get along with you. Once that’s a winner, then it’s just a question of our own personal chemistry,” Toxic chips in, and I start to shake my head as their idea begins to sink in and not quite settle.

  “This sounds all wrong,” I counter, but they wave off my concern.

  “It’s a prototype, but the principle is sound. We just have to iron out the wrinkles.” Toxic winks.

  “So you are breaking up with me,” I state, because no matter how they sugarcoat this conversation, that’s the net result

  “Darling, we just want what you have, and since we can’t have it with you, we’d each like a little help finding our one.” Pink takes my hand and holds my gaze. I look at each of them, and my heart swells but also aches for them, because they are right. What I have with Charge is more, and I love them all enough to want that for them, too.

  I’m sad too, but I can’t blame them. It’s not fair for them to never be able to experience what Charge and I have, all because of this situation we originally planned. Plans change.

  “There’s no hurry. We’re just putting it out there,” Tug adds. “And don’t forget, it took us two years to find you.”

  “Well, good, because this is a shock, and I need time to process it.” I sniff.

  “Okay, sugar, like we said, it’s just an idea.” Pink calls back over his shoulder as he makes his way across the living room to the front door, because there’s an almighty knocking sound, and then another. The faint noise from retreating tires on the gravel drive is drowned out when he calls for me.

  “Finn, I think this one’s for you,” he hollers back into the house. I turn to the commotion on the doorstep, but Pink is blocking the view. I step around him, and I’m assaulted by a glass-shattering, high-pitched scream.

  “Hope?” I stutter, as my mouth drops open in shock.

  “Surprise!”

  Two months ago…