The Square (Shape of Love Book 2)

by JA Huss

  I lean forward and kiss them. Licking her lip, then biting it with the edges of my front teeth. She sucks in a breath of air just as Alec’s mouth finds a place to nibble on her ear.

  “Oh, God,” she says, letting her head fall back onto his shoulder.

  He’s looking at me, smiling as he whispers, “Put yourself inside her now.”

  I might like to drag this out a little longer. Bide my time and go slow.

  But I can’t. I can’t wait to follow his command.

  Alec’s grip on the underside of Christine’s ass holds her in place as I let go of one thigh, reach for my cock, and force it downward. The head drags along Christine’s belly, the pressure almost too much to bear, but then, just as I think I can’t stand it, my cock is between her legs and I’m pushing my way inside her wet pussy, slick with her desire.

  Alec moans as I do this. And when I glance up at him, his eyes are closed, but fluttering. His jaw is clenched. The muscles of his face contracting, then relaxing.

  I can feel him. Such a soft, thin piece of flesh separating us we move in opposite directions inside her. He thrusts forward as I pull back. Then we switch and do the opposite. Each of us understanding our part.

  We fuck Christine like we’re playing instruments. The two of us take her and make a song. We turn sex into a symphony.

  Christine kisses me relentlessly. Her fingers wrapped up in my mostly wet hair. Tugging and pulling until my scalp feels the burn of her demanding urgency.

  Fuck, I like that. I like that a lot. So I kiss her back with desperation. A driving need to push my tongue inside her mouth the way Alec and I have pushed ourselves inside her ass and her pussy.

  We are totally connected in this moment. I don’t think it can get any better than this.

  But when Christine turns her head and Alec leans forward, and all three of our mouths collide—it does get better.

  I can’t even describe how good this feels.

  Alec lets go of one of Christine’s legs and she drops a foot to the tiled floor. I glance down at the shape of her, the muscles straining as she stands on one tiptoe.

  But Alec’s hand in my hair, squeezing tight as Christine’s grip pulls in the opposite direction, refocuses me on him. Our eyes meet. His amber ones. My blue ones. And Christine knows what to do. She moves her head to the side, just a little. Just enough. So that he and I can kiss.

  He draws blood with his first bite, and I laugh through the stinging pain. Because it feels good. Too good to care.

  I reach around him, my large hand flat on the small of his back, my fingers splayed wide, and force him closer. Closer. Until we are nothing more than a mass of hard muscles and soft breasts. I allow my hand to fall, letting my fingers slip into his ass.

  “Yes,” he groans. And then his hand is on my back. Falling along the lines of muscle that define my hip until his fingers are inside me too.

  “Holy shit,” Christine says. Because we are pumping faster now. Our rhythm still perfect, but our motion more urgent.

  We fuck each other like that for several seconds. Breathing hard. And moaning. Alec’s hips bang into Christine’s ass with such force the water begins to splatter off her body with each slap of skin.

  I think I lose control then. I can’t stop myself. I pump fast, trying to force my cock deeper. I grip Alec harder, my fingers desperately trying to be deeper inside him too.

  Christine throws her head back, mouth open and eyes closed. She is moaning, “Oh. Oh. Oh,” over and over again as her legs begin to tremble and then suddenly go limp.

  I have to stop fucking Alec with my finger to catch her before she falls, and she laughs. Softly moaning, “Sorry, sorry…”

  And Alec laughs too. Just a small chuckle into my mouth as he kisses me softer now.

  Because we all know what’s coming…

  Christine’s pussy grips around the shaft of my cock and Alec and I have to stop kissing. I know she’s gripping his cock with her ass and this… it’s just…

  She comes. Moaning turns into a litany of “Oh, shit, oh, shit… oh…”

  I can’t hold it in. I come too. I release everything I have inside her. I grab her hair the way she was grabbing mine and press our faces together. Her eyes open and we stare at each other. Breathing too hard and loving each other too much.

  Alec pushes me, forcing me backwards until I bump up against the tiled bench on the far side of the shower and automatically sit.

  His cock withdraws from Christine’s ass and I stare at it. Hanging long and hard between his legs. He reaches for my hand as Christine slumps against my chest. Bringing it towards him. I look him in the eyes as I grip his cock and he steps forward.

  And then I force Christine’s head down with my other hand and say, “Open your mouth, Christine.”

  And she does. With eyes closed.

  I pull on Alec until he reaches out for the wall, trying to steady himself. And then I aim his come into her mouth.

  CHAPTER FORTY - CHRISTINE

  My eyes open just as Alec’s salty come hits my tongue. And then, just when I think it’s over, Danny’s fingers slide along my cheek, collecting the parts that missed their mark, and he drags even more sweet, salty climax over my lips.

  I lick his finger, then wrap my mouth around it as he pushes it back and forth, in and out between my lips. Fucking me one more time, in one more way, before Alec collapses onto the bench seat next to Danny.

  We sigh together. And that sigh tells me that we are back.

  We are one, and all the sides to our triangle are equal for the first time ever.

  “I don’t want to move,” I say.

  “I don’t think I could move, even if I wanted to.” Danny laughs.

  We both turn our heads to glance at Alec. His clean-shaven jaw just another sign that things are normal again. His head is resting against the wall. Slight smile of contentment on his face. Eyes closed.

  Normal.

  Probably a bad choice of words because none of this is normal. Hell, we’re not the least bit normal even when we’re not fucking each other in a perfect threesome. Our lives are chaos, and danger, and daring missions. We are thieves, and killers, and liars.

  But fuck it. I feel lucky to be a part of this abnormal family. And maybe, for the first time in my life, I’m not jealous of those who have it different.

  Good for Eliza and her perfect, thatched roof. She and her fairy-tale back yard can go fuck itself.

  But then the little mini-Alec pops into my head and I reconsider.

  Because even though it would be easier to pretend that I didn’t want a little me, Danny, or Alec, I do. I desperately do.

  “I’m not on birth control.”

  It takes me a second to realize those words just came out of my mouth and then all I want to do is take them back.

  But Alec leans over and says, “Good,” as he kisses my mouth.

  I glance up at Danny and find him in the same position Alec just pulled himself out of. Head resting against the wall, mouth slightly smiling, eyes closed.

  Content.

  “Yeah,” he mumbles, not bothering to opens eyes. “I could maybe dig a kid.”

  Which makes me chuckle and Alec sigh.

  “Your kid’s not bad,” Danny continues. “But I’m not playing hopscotch with her.”

  This makes Alec laugh and scoot just a little closer to us. His hand finds my thigh and he twirls the pad of this thumb along the outside of my leg. “I can’t imagine you would,” he replies.

  “I sorta promised her.”

  “When?” Alec laughs.

  “Earlier today. God, how is this still the same day?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, nestling deeper into Danny’s chest. “But I think we’ve done enough for one day. It needs to end.”

  “Then let’s end it properly,” Alec says, standing up and walking under the rain shower. “Come here.”

  He extends his hand. And even though I’m perfectly comfortable ending this day i
n this shower, I know we have to get out eventually. So I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. My legs are still trembling from the exertion of clamping them around Danny’s waist as they fucked me from both directions. So Danny stands too, reaching for the bottle of shampoo Alec is handing him.

  I lean against Alec now and let him hold me.

  It’s kind of a sad hold because I know we’re both thinking about the baby we didn’t have.

  But I’m distracted by Danny’s hands on my scalp as he massages the luxurious tropical-scented shampoo bubbles into my hair.

  “That feels nice,” I say.

  “That’s the point.”

  Which makes me smile and close my eyes.

  Alec comes up behind me and begins rubbing liquid soap along the curve of my waist. He reaches up and fondles my breasts until large soapy bubbles cover my nipples.

  I sink back into him as he places his mouth against my ear and whispers, “We’ll have our baby one day. I promise. Maybe it’s mine, maybe it’s Danny’s. It doesn’t matter. We will have that life you want. We can let go of the past.”

  I nod my head and keep my eyes closed. No words necessary.

  We wash each other like that for a while, slow and easy, taking turns standing under the rain shower. Not saying much. Just kinda enjoying the calm silence.

  That’s why I loved the Cook Islands so much. There was a lot of stillness there and stillness is hard to find in our world.

  But eventually the washing is over and I think the entirety of the day hits us all in the same moment.

  Danny turns the water off and Alec gets out first, holding a towel open so he can wrap me up as I step out.

  I don’t bother with clothes, just hold the towel against my body as I walk to the huge master bed, and then drop it to the floor and climb under the covers, naked.

  Danny and Alec both join me, dropping their towels too.

  We are a tangle of arms and legs. Danny behind me, his hands around my belly like maybe… maybe he’s thinking about that baby we’ll have some day.

  Alec lies flat on the bed. My head on his shoulder, his hands behind his neck as he gazes up at the ceiling.

  I sigh and they echo it.

  All of us relax and drift into our own dreams.

  Happy.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE - ALEC

  The yellow windbreaker she has on feels in contrast to the darkness in her eyes. She and Eliza continue talking and I step closer to hear them. But no matter how close I get, I can discern nothing. Their mouths are moving, but no sound is coming out.

  Christine is growing increasingly animated and Eliza, as is her natural state, remains inscrutable and unmoving. Then, finally, Eliza reaches out and places her hands onto Christine’s shoulders. I brace myself, waiting for the punch to the jaw Eliza is surely about to receive. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, Christine’s shoulders drop, and her expression softens. She looks over to me. Then Eliza turns her head toward me as well and they are both staring. I wish I could hear them.

  Eliza turns, stands next to Christine, and they look at me for a very long time indeed. The sun goes down, the sun comes up, the sun goes down, the sun comes up. Over and over and over again. It’s like one of those sped-up nature documentaries where they show the deterioration of a rose petal over days or weeks.

  But nothing here deteriorates. In fact, everything stays the same. We are captured in amber, it seems. I try not to blink. I have this suspicion that if I do, when I open my eyes, it will all be gone. But eventually, I can no longer keep my lids lifted and I do. I blink. And when I do, and my eyes open again, I find Eliza walking away, holding the hand of a tiny person carrying a battered teddy bear. And where Eliza stood, Danny now waits.

  It all happened in the blink of an eye.

  And I fall to my knees and cry.

  I have never cried in front of anyone other than my father. I cried in front of him once, when I was a boy, and the slap he delivered on that day warned me off crying in front of anyone ever again. But here, in front of these two people, I kneel and weep.

  They rush over now, and as they approach, the sound of the world suddenly warps back into my ears. Like a tornado in reverse.

  “Hey, hey. Hey, dude, why so sad?” Danny asks.

  “What?” I respond, looking up at him through a veil of tears.

  “He asked what you’re crying about,” Christine says. “Is it Eliza? Is it Andra? Do you want us to go after them for you?”

  There’s no heat in her voice. No anger or jealousy. Nothing but kindness, compassion, and love. Danny’s face is the same. Pure love. Pure care. Unquestioning devotion. I shake my head at them.

  “No, no, it’s not that,” I say.

  “Then what?” Danny asks. “What’s wrong?”

  I pause to consider the answer. I realize I have none. “Nothing, I don’t think. Nothing’s wrong. I… I just… I think I felt like crying.”

  And then Danny laughs. And Christine laughs. And I laugh, even though sobs still emanate from within. And Danny smothers me in a hug. And I hug him back. And Christine wraps herself around both of us, opening her windbreaker wide, and enveloping us in the bright warmth of the sun that is she.

  And the yellow sun around us grows bigger and bigger, and it glows ever more intensely, filling the room, and then bleeding free from inside the house and covering the walls and the grounds beyond. And rising and rising and rising up to touch the sky itself and compete with the rays coming down to earth from the vastness of space.

  And like some type of nuclear reaction that blinds the world, we explode as one into that cloud of love and light, and we shower down on everything we touch.

  And as I’m falling through the air, drifting throughout the universe, now transported and turned into pure energy, I see in front of me a face. A face growing larger and larger, careening into view.

  It’s Lars.

  Lars is there. Waiting. He opens his mouth as if he means to consume me, and I try to stop my trajectory. I try to slow my collision course with him. But I can’t. I can’t slow and I can’t stop. And all the light and beauty that I feel and that I am is in danger of being swallowed up whole.

  And, with my heart racing and my breaths ragged and frantic…

  I sit up in bed.

  It’s just starting to become light outside. The curtains are of the blackout variety, but there is a crack in one of them and I can see sunshine just peeking through. To my left is Christine. Still asleep. The covers of the bed have been all but kicked off and her naked body is visible in the dim light of the room. Her hand is resting on my thigh. She moans slightly as I wake.

  Danny is to her left. Also still asleep. His arm is draped across her stomach, the fingers of his hand also just grazing along my thigh. He doesn’t move. He is as still as a mountain. Strong, powerful, eternal.

  My breathing slows as I look around and realize that we are alone. I roll my neck back and cast my eyes at the ceiling. I laugh—almost—at my dream. At the completion of a dream I’ve been having for weeks. At least. I laugh because I’m not a terribly deep thinker. I’m truly not. People mistake me for someone who possesses some sort of philosophical acumen simply because I attended some lekker schools in my day and I have a fair facility with language. But I’m not actually all that bright. I just know how to present for the situation in front of me.

  When all is said and done though, deductive logic ain’t really my strong suit. I follow my impulses and operate from instinct. However, even I, as shallow and petty as I know myself to be, don’t have to work terribly hard to figure out what the fok the dream is all about.

  Lars was working all this time to take from me, and I never even saw it. Never even thought to consider it. Never took steps to mitigate the damage until it was too late.

  As I say, deductive logic ain’t really my strong suit.

  But fokken taking control back when control needs to be taken is.

  I work to extract myself quietly from thei
r shared touch without waking them. My ribs, they argue with me, owing to the workout they got last night. But I ask them, politely, to kindly fokof as I slide free and stand at the edge of the bed.

  I look at them. I look at us.

  Alec, Christine, and Danny.

  This is how you say our names.

  It has been ever thus, and if I have anything to say about it, it is how it ever shall be.

  This will not be the last time the three of us hold each other throughout the night. And the next time, the dreams I have will not be violated by uninvited guests.

  I need answers. I need to know how Lars and I survived. I need to know why he brought me to that place and why he kept me in the dark. I am supposing it was to draw Christine and Danny out. To me. Or perhaps it was to draw Eliza and her brothers out and to me. But that presumes that he somehow knew Christine and Danny would seek them. And, to be quite honest, I don’t even know if Lars ever knew about the Watsons. He wasn’t around during that time. I don’t know if we ever talked about them in front of him. I…

  Ach. Again… deductive logic is not where I excel.

  All I do know is that he is alive and if he tried to kill me once, he will try again. That requires no deduction on my part. I know it’s what he’ll do, because it is what I would do. I don’t know my baby bru well, but I do know his heart. If there’s any part of it left that isn’t blackened beyond repair, maybe there’s a chance we can work through whatever it is between us that maddens him so and avoid more bloodshed.

  And maybe Eliza and Christine will become best friends and we’ll all go on trips to fokken Disneyland together, and perhaps someone will anoint me father of the year.

  Onosel fokken etter you are, van den Berg. Face reality.

  I make my way quietly to the valet closet and open it. In the night, little elves have procured some new finery for me. The garment bag with my new suit hangs next to a clear plastic drapery, underneath which is a pair of brand-new sweatpants. I cannot help but smile. I take the garment bag out, unzip it, and feel the fabric. While not made explicitly for me, it has come from Savile Row, and there is still magic woven into its form. If one has never had the good fortune to adorn oneself in a handmade, fully canvassed suit jacket, one cannot understand why it matters. But once one has worn such a piece, one will never be content to wear anything less than.