by Witt, L. A.
My heart jumped. “So we’re . . . really going to do that?”
“Well, if you want to.” His lifted eyebrows added, You do, don’t you?
“Definitely, yeah.”
“Good. Fair warning—they are a lot of work.”
“Guess I’ll be getting my cardio in.” I shifted a bit, careful not to kick the dog or elbow a cat. “So, um, at the risk of sounding as naïve as I am, how exactly do threesomes happen? Like, how do you even arrange something like that?”
Aaron shrugged. “You put an ad on craigslist, leave your front door unlocked, and hope for the best.”
I almost choked.
He snickered and slid his hand up my chest. “I’m kidding.”
“Ass.” I laughed.
Chuckling, he draped his arm over me. “There’s a few different ways. You can sometimes find couples on one of the apps. There’s also a website for swingers, but you don’t really see a lot of same-sex couples on there. Not many singles willing to join same-sex couples, either.”
I raised my eyebrows. “But you can find straight couples? Or, well, straight-ish.”
“Oh yeah. They’re usually looking for bi women, but I’ve seen the odd couple here and there who are interested in bi men.”
“Wait, I thought you said you weren’t bi.”
Aaron shook his head. “I’m not, but I’ve peeked at the site a few times to see if I’d get lucky. Maybe find a guy who wants to play with a man while his wife watches or something.”
“Did you?”
“Nope.”
Well, since I was bi, I tucked that tidbit of information into the back of my mind. If I was ever in the mood to strike out on my own, I knew where to look. Swinger website. Got it.
“There’s also clubs,” he went on. “I know of a few gay bars here on the peninsula and also over in Seattle where it’s not too hard to find a couple of guys, or a guy who’s willing to join in.”
“Seriously? So, what? You walk up and ask if they want to be fucked by two dudes?”
Aaron laughed. “Not all that different from picking up one guy.” He paused, and his eyebrows rose. “Which you’ve never done, have you?”
My face burned. “Not in a bar, no.”
“Well, you’ll be there with me, so”—he winked—“you can watch and learn.”
“Fair enough. And then you just . . . go back to a room and get it on?”
“Pretty much.” He chuckled. “If you meet someone on one of those sites—especially that swinger site—it’s a bit, uh, businesslike for my taste. They usually want to do a meet and greet first, which is basically a date but feels more like a job interview.”
“I thought you hadn’t met anyone on there.”
“No, but I had a fuck buddy for a while who did, and . . . yeah, not my thing.”
“So you prefer the club approach.”
“I do.” Aaron flashed a mischievous grin. “What can I say? I like the thrill of the hunt.”
I shivered.
And I was suddenly very, very intrigued by the idea.
* * *
Much too soon, it was time for me to go pick up my kids. Though it was tempting to let a good-bye kiss linger for half the night, we were both restrained enough that I left Aaron’s place in time to get my son and daughter with a few minutes to spare.
I drove from Aaron’s house downtown to the skate park where Michael and Desiree took lessons from one of the semipros twice a week. They were hooked on the sport and had been since day one. Christian wasn’t really interested. After three lessons, he’d decided to hang it up, and he was perfectly content to bring his tablet and read. If someone brought a dog he could play with or a stray cat happened by, then he was in heaven. Tonight, he’d decided to go to a friend’s house.
When I arrived at the park, Desiree’s lesson was finished. Michael was still skating under the bright overhead lights and the watchful eye of their instructor. In the time it took Aaron and me to swap a few suggestive texts, the lesson was done and both kids were piling into the car.
As I drove toward Christian’s friend’s house, the two of them told me about their lessons, and I tried to ignore when my phone lit up in the cup holder. It was weird, being with them so soon after I’d been in bed with Aaron, and even weirder having a potentially raunchy text right there on the screen while they were with me. My fuck buddy—the one who was eagerly coaxing me into the world of being a dumb twentysomething—might as well have been sitting right next to me in the empty passenger seat, shooting me grins and winks while Michael and Desiree talked about ollies and half-pipes.
Christ. What am I doing?
I took a deep breath, then released it. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Aaron knew the kids were with me now, so odds were, the message he’d sent was perfectly benign. Good night or something.
Still. The guy I’d been fucking less than two hours ago was texting me while I was in the car with Michael and Desiree. Was it weird? Because it seemed weird. Or was I once again panicking over nothing?
That was probably it.
None of my kids had any reason to think I was seeing anyone regularly, never mind the nature of my relationship. So . . . why the hell was I so worried?
Because worrying is who I am.
I parked in the driveway of Christian’s friend and kept the engine running so Michael and Des had some air while I went up to the door. I almost left my phone but, on second thought, grabbed it. Halfway up the walk, I surreptitiously checked the screen.
See you soon.
I sighed, feeling like an idiot, and tucked the phone in my pocket. Nothing to worry about. If one of the kids had seen the message, they wouldn’t have had any reason to think something was going on. Maybe they’d ask who Aaron was, but for all they knew, he was another crew member from the set. I must’ve had thirty of them saved in my contacts. It wasn’t like I’d saved him as Long Overdue Dick Without Commitment.
I rolled my eyes at my own stupid thought and collected myself before I knocked on the door.
I was still a responsible parent. I wasn’t hurting anyone—myself, my kids, or Aaron—by getting a little crazy on the side.
Everything was fine.
In fact, I thought with a grin, everything was perfect.
Chapter 12
Aaron
For the past four nights, Shane had had to work late, and tonight was no exception. The film crew was up in the mountains somewhere, well out of cell phone range, and he didn’t expect to be home until long after the sun came up. If it was anything like the last few nights, he’d come home, collapse, and wake up with about an hour to spare before he had to go back in. He texted when he could, but between his hours and the lack of signal, it was sporadic at best.
I was patient, of course. We’d see each other when the time came, though I suspected it would be our luck that his first night off would be one of my duty nights at the firehouse. For that matter, he’d probably want to spend that time with his kids, and I didn’t begrudge him that for a second.
But, damn, I was bored off my ass tonight. Bored and horny as hell. I’d been spoiled, having him almost daily recently—even for quickies—and now that he wasn’t around, I was itching for more. My hand wasn’t even beginning to get the job done these days. An orgasm to help me go to sleep? Sure. Satisfying a body that was getting way too used to Shane’s magic mouth, fingers, and cock? Not so much.
Well, just because he was working didn’t mean I needed to stay home and wallow in boredom. I was too restless for Grindr. Way too impatient for the ritual of browsing, connecting, chatting, and maybe hooking up. Tonight, I was in the mood for the direct approach. The kind that started with a look and usually ended with a quickie in the men’s room or, if we made it that far, someone’s car.
After a shower and a shave, I put on something black and tight and drove down to Kalaloch. There weren’t a lot of gay clubs on the Olympic Peninsula, but there was a good one here that I hadn’t been to in a while.
Exactly like I’d hoped, the club was busy tonight. Crowds weren’t my favorite thing in the world, but more men meant more chances at leaving here with someone. Or at the very least, leaving with a satisfied smile on my face.
There was no place to sit or stand at the bar, though I managed to wade to the front long enough to get a beer. Then I found an empty table near the edge of the dance floor, which gave me a panoramic view of the room. The deejay blasted some pop noise, and all the twentysomethings were loving it. I didn’t care for the music, but I wasn’t going to protest anything that got these gorgeous men to dance like that.
Let the spirit move you, boys. Goddamn.
I recognized a few faces. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d blown the shirtless blond in leather pants a couple of months ago. When he turned a little—yep, I’d recognize that face anywhere. Maybe tonight he could refresh my memory about what his O-face looked like, but for the moment, he was preoccupied with an equally hot Hispanic man.
No problem. The night was young and there were plenty of guys here. Just had to find one who caught my eye and who was interested in someone on the older end of the club’s target demographic.
I kept scanning the room. From where I stood, I could clearly see no fewer than half a dozen men who would’ve drawn me across the room on any other night.
So why am I not moving?
Not that the why made any difference. Clearly I wasn’t in the mood for anything this place had to offer. Or maybe I needed to get my ass out onto the dance floor and let nature take its course.
Which I would do as soon as I finished my beer.
I took a sip but wasn’t in any hurry to get to the bottom. Slowly, a heavy feeling pushed down on my shoulders and tugged at my gut. Why had I even bothered coming to this place? I’d been all excited to get here, but now my heart wasn’t in it. In a club full of horny men, I was as bored and restless as I’d been on my couch.
Because Shane wasn’t here.
I nearly choked. What the hell?
Despite my best efforts, my mind wandered back to the last time with Shane, and I could barely stay still. Thinking about his hands and mouth on me . . . my God. So much for being restless and bored. Two seconds of Shane on my mind—of his O-face—and my blood was already rushing south.
I scanned the room again. Somebody here had to pique my interest. Even if I was thinking about Shane the whole time or about the threesome we’d been discussing, at least I could get all this horny energy out of my system.
Thinking about Shane? While you’re sleeping with someone else? Really?
I took another deep swallow of beer.
Shane didn’t belong on my mind when he wasn’t in the room, especially not when I was trying to get into another man’s pants. This was ridiculous.
Except . . . of course he was on my mind. Why wouldn’t he be? When was the last time I’d been with anyone else who could fuck like Shane did? Every encounter with him—whether it was a quickie in my office or a coveted couple of hours in my bed—was enough to leave me unsteady on my feet afterward. He didn’t even have to work at it. Every time he kissed me or touched me, I lost my mind. It was like he was just effortlessly incredible in bed.
And now nobody else turned me on like he did.
I absently sipped my beer, but I didn’t taste it. This was dangerous ground. After all, he’d put the relationship card on the table almost immediately, and I’d have been lying if I said I hadn’t been uneasy ever since that conversation we’d had the second night. Yeah, we’d agreed to keep this unattached and casual, but I hadn’t forgotten. At every turn, I expected the next shoe to drop. If I kept going back for more and more of this amazing, addictive sex, how long before he read more into that than there was? How long before he rolled over one night, caught his breath, and told me he loved me, and things got really awkward?
He had a family. Even if some part of me did warm up to the idea of something more than sex, I’d be an idiot to think this could work. As much as he obviously enjoyed some fooling around without all the commitment, men like him didn’t settle down with men like me. In bed, he wanted something wild, and I was happy to give him whatever wild he wanted. When it came time for an actual partner, though, Shane’s choice had to be a stepparent first, and that wasn’t a role I had any interest in volunteering for.
Which meant I should’ve turned tail and run at the start. But I hadn’t. And I still didn’t.
On the other hand, he seemed to be enjoying what we were doing, even without all the strings attached. The fact that I was so sexually satisfied with him that a room full of hot, horny gay men did nothing for me—that didn’t mean there were emotions getting involved. It just meant we had a thing or two in common between the sheets, and the novelty hadn’t worn off yet.
Right?
Chapter 13
Shane
The episode was in the can.
Sweet Baby Jesus, we were done.
There could still be last-second reshoots, of course—directors were finicky creatures—and the next episode started shooting soon, but at least for now, me and my crew got to enjoy a much-needed reprieve. Not only did we get the entire weekend off, we had Friday afternoon too.
Naturally, though, when I had an afternoon off, Aaron had to work. Such was the joy of sleeping with a business owner. But I’d see him tonight, and I could be patient until then.
On the bright side, my free afternoon meant for once I had time to go with my kids to their skateboarding lessons.
After I’d parked, Desiree and Michael hurried off to join their instructor while Christian and I took our seats on a bench. He’d brought a book and happily buried his nose in it while I watched his siblings. Looked like he was getting close to the end of the book too—he’d been reading young adult novels since the beginning of second grade and blew through them. I made a mental note to take him to the bookstore now that I had some downtime.
Michael’s lesson started, and I tried to keep my nerves under the surface. It always made me nervous to watch the kids’ lessons, but this was important to them, so I came whenever I could. Though Desiree had been scared of some of the more elaborate tricks and the bigger ramps, these days she seemed cool and confident. My heart always stopped a few times, though. Jesus. It hadn’t been nearly as nerve-racking to see the seasoned pros flying down a ramp and balance at the top on their board. When it was my daughter? Whoa. That was kind of terrifying.
Michael had been fearless from the start. A few nasty spills and two trips to the emergency room had given him a healthier understanding of pavement and gravity, and he was more cautious now, but he still sailed around the park on his board like there was no reason not to. Ramps? Jumps? Tricks? He didn’t shy away from anything.
And right then, as I watched, Michael wiped out.
One second, he was confidently on his board. The next, the board was going one way and he was going the other. In a blink, he was horizontal on the concrete. My heart lurched, my mind’s eye showing me X-rays of fractures or one of the other kids mowing over him while he was down, but he was already back on his feet, dusting himself off, and ready to try again.
I closed my eyes and swallowed. They were wearing helmets and pads. It wasn’t unusual for either of them to come home with bruises or road rash, but they’d be fine.
“Michael.” Brennan, their instructor, beckoned to him. “Come here for a second.”
Michael skated over, and Brennan adjusted the strap on his helmet. With the strap apparently fixed, they continued with his lesson.
I blew out a breath. I did appreciate that everyone here was so safety conscious. There were a lot of younger kids as well as teenagers, and I’d been edgy about letting my kids skate here—or at all, for that matter—until I’d actually watched for a little while. Occasionally, some teenager did something stupid or a bully tried to fuck with a smaller kid, and everyone would immediately descend on them like a pack of wolves. Assholes and idiots didn’t last long he
re.
It still made me nervous to watch my kids skate, and sometimes I questioned whether I should let them continue. The fact that every time I came here there were at least one or two people in casts didn’t help.
But Des and Michael loved this. And they adored Brennan too. In fact, Des had become friends with his stepson Tariq. Even though he was closer to her brothers’ age—plus he and Christian were both rabid bookworms—he’d also bonded with Des over their love of skateboarding as well as being raised by their dads. Like Desiree’s, Tariq’s mom had been out of the picture for as long as he could remember, and I supposed in a world where deadbeat dads were the norm, the kids of deadbeat moms needed some solidarity. Desiree had blamed herself for a long time, especially after her stepmom had also left, but I’d noticed she didn’t make as many comments to that effect since she’d become friends with Tariq. That alone was enough to make me grit my teeth and let her and her brother continue with this sport.
While Michael was engrossed in whatever complex trick Brennan was teaching him, Desiree stood off to the side, skateboard propped against her leg and knee pads dangling from her fingers. She wasn’t alone, though. I’d seen that boy before. He was a year older than her, if I remembered right, and . . .
Oh, I knew that body language. The way he faced her completely and how she laughed and twirled her hair when he spoke.
I’d wondered about them for a while. Every time we were here, the kid would make a point of stopping and talking to her, and she did the same. Maybe they were good friends. Maybe they were getting flirty. The overprotective dad in me wanted to grab the kid by the scruff and put the fear of God in him, but Desiree was fifteen. If I tried to keep them apart, they’d find a way. Hell, they went to the same school.
I exhaled and turned my attention to Michael, since watching him skating way too fast was considerably less stressful than watching my daughter flirt with a boy.
