by Vivian Ward
While Chris still owns his house, he doesn’t stay there very much because he’s always at Brendan’s so he’s considering selling it and moving in with us so that we can all be together.
“What are you cooking?” Brendan asks as he enters the kitchen.
“Oh, I’m just making lemon-garlic chicken breasts with roasted broccoli and garlic toast,” I say as he plants a soft kiss on my neck.
“I’ve got to say that I think Chris and I are the luckiest men alive. Not only do we get to spend the entire day at the office with you but then we come home to cooked meals and a clean house. It’s nice,” he wraps his arms around me.
“Are you sure you’re not getting sick of me?” I ask, leaning into his embrace while the chicken simmers on the stovetop.
“Never,” Chris walks into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”
“Nope,” Brendan agrees. “We appreciate you and enjoy having you, Leah. We’re lucky to have found that email. You’ve changed our lives.”
Stepping out of his arms, I look at him and Chris in disbelief. “I’ve changed your lives? I think you’ve got that backwards! My life is so much better having the two of you in it.”
“Yeah? How so?” Chris asks.
“Let’s see,” I bite my lip. “I get to spend my days and nights with two extremely attractive men, I live in a gorgeous house, and what other girl has two men who sexually please her, spoil her, and shower her with attention? Most girls would kill to have one guy who does that!”
Brendan laughs. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess you do have it pretty good.”
“You know,” Chris says, taking a drink of water. “This type of relationship isn’t for everyone but we have something unique. There’s no jealousy, no expectations, and no drama. It just works for us.”
“That’s true,” Brendan says, joining Chris near the sink to make himself something to drink. “Not many men could share a woman or watch her fuck someone else but it’s one of my favorite things to do….when I’m not fucking you myself.”
“I have no complaints,” I laugh as I go back to tending dinner. “And my cousin Nikki is so jealous. I can’t wait for you guys to meet her when she comes up to visit. She’s not sure what to make of the situation so take it easy on her.”
“Ha! Maybe she can be part of the situation,” Chris winks at me.
“Don’t get any crazy ideas!” I wave my spatula at him. “While we may be in a poly type relationship, it might get too complicated if we try to add more people. Besides, Nikki is dating someone back home. She just misses me and wants to see this amazing house that I keep telling her about.”
With dinner almost ready, I grab a few plates and begin making them. If you would’ve told me a year ago that I’d move to Utah, meet hot doctors, fall in love with both of them, and live in a poly relationship with them, I would’ve said that you were crazy but now that I’m here. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t think that I could ever go back to a ‘normal’ relationship. The way they both pay attention to me, show affection towards me, and spoil me, I could never have just one man again.
True Love X2 Series
The Flirt Club presents True Love X2! A series of MFM romances with double the heat, double the heart, and double the happily-ever-afters! Guaranteed!
You can find the rest of the books in the series by clicking on the book titles below:
Mountain Man X2 by Frankie Love
Bodyguard X2 by Poppy Parkes
Cowboys X2 by Laney Powell:link coming coon!
Bilionaire X2 by Dee Ellis: link coming soon!
Stepbrothers X2 by Sierra Hill - Author
Navy Seals by Hunter King
Officer X2 by Derek Masters
MMA Fighter X2 by Fiona Starr
King X2 by Amelia Wilde
Love my menage books and want more? Continue on to read a special preview of His Best Friend, a MFM menage romance!
Vivian Ward Newsletter
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Copyright © 2019 by Vivian Ward
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To every woman who’s fantasized about her man’s friend, this one is for you. It’s not as taboo as you think!
Vivian Ward Newsletter
Get free books, ARC opportunities, giveaways, and special offers when you sign up for Vivian’s newsletter. We all get enough spam so your information will never be shared, sold or redistributed in any way. You’ll instantly receive a free novel just for signing up that isn’t available anywhere else!
newsletter.authorvivianward.com
Chapter 1
Jules
Every woman has her secrets and I certainly have mine; though, I often wonder if my husband can pick up on some of them—like the fact that I’ve developed a crush on his best friend, Harley.
Or maybe it’s the other way around. It’s hard to say who likes who but the fact remains that the two of us have gotten a lot closer since we started working together.
“Hey honey! Can me and my buddies get a round of beers?” a biker from the end of the bar shouts as he waves some cash in the air.
“What kind?” I ask, making my way toward them.
Why they didn’t ask Harley to wait on them is beyond me. It’s not like I wasn’t busy cleaning things behind the counter, but he doesn’t have tits so I’d imagine that’s why I’m being paged as ‘Honey’ while the group of them stare at me like hungry dogs drooling over a thick steak.
“We’ll take some Busch. We don’t want any of that fancy imported shit.”
I would laugh at him since Busch was sold to InBev and the money is still technically going overseas even though they continue to manufacture it right here in St. Louis, but I know better than to laugh at them. These aren’t wanna be bikers. These guys are the real deal; one-percenters. I know who they are because my husband Rocco almost got caught up with them; it’s how I met my husband.
Rocco and I have been married for the better part of five years, and we dated almost two years prior to that. We’re pretty much your average couple who work, come home, have dinner together, shower and watch a TV show on the DVR as we fall asleep.
“Here you go,” I pass the long necks over the counter. “Can I get you guys anything else?”
A couple of the men near the back of the group snicker and, no doubt, make some condescending remarks but the leader clears his throat and talks over them. “That’ll be all, honey, and keep the change.”
I glance over at Harley because I can feel his eyes burning a hole through the men as he stares them down. I shake my head, hoping he’ll let it go. He’s Rocco’s eyes when we’re together since the two of them are best friends and there’ve been quite a few times that he’s taken things a bit too far. I’ve had to stop him from throwing patrons out because he didn’t like how they were talking to me or looking at me. Harley’s just as protective of me as my husband, and I think that might be when things started to change.
Harley walks up behind me as I finish restocking the fruit containers, his muscular arm stretches around me as his hand rests on the bar in front of me and he lowers his mouth next to my ear. “I’ll go ahead and announce last call so we can get out of here on time, unless you want to stay late.”
His hot breath dances across my neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps down my body, making my nipples rock hard. He has the smoothest, deepest voice. He should’
ve been a musician or a radio personality but he was caught up doing the same shit my husband was into.
I shake my head, exposing my neck to him as I lean back against him, letting my skin touch his for just a brief moment. I’m ashamed to say this, but I’ve allowed my imagination to run wild more times than I’d like to admit when it comes to Harley. Even though I’m a married woman and he currently has a girlfriend, Emma, and I know it’s wrong, my mind seems to wander all on its own and I can’t help it.
Sure, I tell myself to stop it when I’m aware of my thoughts but it doesn’t always work. Sometimes it makes it worse. The thought of doing something forbidden and naughty makes me want him that much more. Having an affair is one thing, but doing it with your husband’s best friend? That’s pretty high up there in terms of forbidden.
Things weren’t always like this between Harley and I. Our friendship started out innocently enough. He was just Rocco’s buddy, and, sometimes, the third wheel. Everything was normal in the beginning. We traded insults, competed for Rocco’s time and attention, and exchanged jokes, but things changed over time.
We didn’t start to grow close until about a year ago. At least that’s when I found myself thinking about him more and having indecent thoughts about him.
But as much as my mind plays tricks on me, I’ve remained faithful to my husband.
The part-time girl, Samantha, squeezes around us to take care of an old man who’s been steadily drinking his liver away for the last twenty years. He’s a regular who always demands prompt attention. Harley’s forced to move closer to me and his hand now has a firm grip on my hip and I feel his thumb brush the bare skin of my back, making my nipples instantly perk up again. “No, I’m good. You can do last call. Let me know if you need help with any drinks,” I say.
As our final customers settle their tabs for the night, I can’t help but wonder what goes through his mind when we work together.
Part of me feels guilty, though. I shouldn’t have these thoughts. I’m Rocco’s wife and I love him to death but lately, he’s not been….available.
But maybe I’m the problem.
I’ve been wanting to have a baby for almost two years now and no matter how hard we try, it’s not happening. It’s hard. You hope that each time you have sex, the deed will be done, and then when you get your period, it’s disappointing.
And I’m sure it’s just as hard on him, too, but he’s not the type of guy who talks about his feelings, so it’s hard to know what he’s thinking or feeling. I just wish I’d hurry up and miss my period already but that’s kind of hard when you’re barely having sex.
Neither of us are to blame, though. There have been plenty of times where one of us has tried and the other declines, pretending to have a headache, or be sick, or too tired to make love. I try not to let it get to me because every couple goes through it, right?
At least, that’s what I tell myself. I’ve watched enough daytime television talk shows to know that all couples eventually fall into a rut or some sort of rough patch, and I suppose that’s where we are. Two years of trying for a baby that isn’t coming could take its toll on anyone, I suppose.
Our biggest problem is communication. I’ve thought about marriage counseling but Rocco’s not exactly the Dr. Phil kind of guy, so I’ve never brought it up. I can practically hear him groaning if I were to mention the idea. The thought of it makes me chuckle.
Half the time, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the situation. Maybe I’m a fool for keeping my hopes up but there’s no denying that I’m still head over heels for my husband and I’d do anything to start a family with him. Sometimes, I can envision him pushing a stroller or making a bottle and it sends my ovaries into overdrive.
I’ve gone to the doctor for a check-up but Rocco refuses. I think it’s his ego that won’t allow him to go. My doctor says that I’m in perfect health and can’t see a reason why I wouldn’t be able to conceive. He suggested that my husband go for a sperm count test but when I brought it up, he became very defensive so I dropped it.
I’d try to push the issue harder but it’s already difficult enough to talk about the subject, so I just keep hoping and waiting. I pray that one day he’ll either go get the testing that my doctor suggested or that I’ll magically wake up to a positive pregnancy test.
It’d be a miracle for either one of those things to happen, but a girl can hope. Right?
“You need me to refill the ice or bring up any more beer from the basement before we lock up?” Harley asks.
“Maybe one more case of beer but the ice is good,” I say.
I finish counting out the register while he restocks the last case of beer. There’s no doubt that his eyes are on me the whole time he’s putting the beer in the cooler. I can always feel his eyes on me. I turn around to see if I’m right, and I am.
A sly grin slowly spreads across his face and he winks. My cheeks heat up and I smile before quickly turning my attention back to placing the deposit inside of the bank bag.
We bid each other goodnight as we slip inside our cars before we each head home. The sky appears darker than usual. Thick clouds hover close to the earth like a down comforter, wrapping the night in a blanket of soon to be thunderstorms.
I race home, trying to beat the rain, and hope that Rocco’s still awake when I open the door. He’s not been sleeping well for some time and while I want him to get rest, I want a little time with him before we fall asleep. Lately, it feels as though we’ve been drifting further and further apart which is the opposite of what starting a family should look like. Trying for a baby normally brings a couple closer together but it seems the longer we try, the more it puts distance between us.
Before I exit the driver’s seat, I check my hair and makeup before going inside. Despite being tired and working in a sticky bar all night, I want to look my best for him. I want him to know that I still care. I can only hope that my actions show him these things even if there is an invisible wall between us that I can’t seem to break through.
Tucking my hair behind my ears, I use my fingers as a makeshift comb in an attempt to tame my unruly locks and wipe away any smudged makeup before applying a thin coat of lip balm on my lips. Satisfied with my appearance, I step out of the car and adjust my bra so the girls look more appealing to him.
Maybe we can try again tonight.
Chapter 2
Rocco
The stress of work has been taking its toll on me but not nearly as much as my marriage.
Jules is perfect in every way—and I mean that—but things between us have become distant. Even though she’s right by my side, it feels like we’re on different planets.
She’s beautiful, smart, sexy, and funny. A man couldn’t ask for a better wife, partner and best friend. She is my everything and I could never picture my life without her, but I feel like she’s slipping away.
It almost seems as if there’s an invisible force pulling her away from me, tearing us apart. That invisible force is the baby that doesn’t exist. The baby that seems like it will never come. It’s the void in her womb that makes her cry every month, each time she gets her period. She tries to hide it, but I can see it even if she doesn’t think I can. I’m just not sure what I struggle with the most: the fact that there’s no baby or that she’s crying again. It’s a pain that we both endure.
Silently.
Together and separate.
I’ve never been the type to write poems and buy flowers but I try to be there for her. I try my damnedest to be the best husband that Jules could ask for but each time she gets her period is another month that pushes us apart. Every tear that falls from her cobalt eyes is like another knife stabbing me, twisting its way deep inside my body.
I want to collect all the tears of sadness that she sheds. I want to put them in a tiny vial so that I can crush the glass and make all her sadness and pain go away.
It’s frustrating.
She might think she’s the one who wants the baby
so badly but she’s wrong—at least partially. I want that baby just as much as she does, but I don’t show it.
I can’t.
What kind of man would I be if I let her see me upset? What kind of husband would I be if I showed her my disappointment? It’s not her fault. It’s nobodies fault. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, but I hope that’s not the case. As much as she wants her arms filled with a soft, swaddled baby, I want those tiny baby fingers wrapped around my pinky. I want to come home at night and feel her hard, pregnant belly. When will I get my turn to feel my baby kick inside my wife?
It’s hard to see friends and family getting pregnant, having babies while you try so desperately to have one of your own. I think that plays into some of the distance that’s been placed between us, too. Call it envy, jealousy, or resentment. I know it’s there. It co-exists with the tense desperation that we share; together and separately.
The only outlet that I have is when I’m with the guys. Hanging out with them helps take my mind off things—until they bring up their kids or their pregnant wife or girlfriend. I think that’s why Harley and I can relate so well. We’ve always been best friends but he gets it because of what he’s been through with his ex, Shay.
I’m not sure which is worse: to have and lose children or to never have any at all after years of trying. His situation is a bit different than ours, though. Shay’s kids weren’t his biological children but he treated them like they were.
