Detachment

by Shae Banks

  “The most unpleasant thing in my marriage was my husband.” I sighed. That wasn’t a fair explanation. Francis was a victim of his own micro society, he could have been different, but I doubt he knew how to. “It isn’t his fault, it’s how he is, how they all are, but I couldn’t live like that anymore, you know?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t. I’m fortunate enough to have never been in that position,” he replied.

  I was grateful for his candour, but surprised he adjusted his posture to face me on the sofa as though he wanted me to continue.

  I obliged.

  “It wasn’t always bad,” I began taking another drink. “I mean, he was always him, I just thought that was what I wanted. The perfect job, the perfect house with a perfect marriage. I thought all that meant I’d be someone of importance, but it wasn’t. I wasn’t. And as we grow, we change, don’t we? Different wants. Different needs. Life doesn’t follow the path we imagine it will, and if we don’t like where we’re going, then we have to change direction.

  “When I didn’t live up to his expectations, I stopped trying. I grew tired. I grew fat. He grew ever more impatient and judgemental. The worst part, though, was the blame we should have shared—he handed all that to me”

  “I’m sorry, I…” Thom started, but he trailed off, seeming both sad and confused.

  Of course he was confused. I was talking in riddles and he clearly had no experience with what I was going through.

  “Sorry. We, umm, we couldn’t have a baby. Problems on both sides,” I clarified. “After four failed embryo transfers, I was drained while he was ready to hit the savings for another round. I put it off. He became frustrated and that affected his general attitude towards me. I became unhappy. I had a career once. Dreams. Everything had ground to a halt over the last few years, and with no sign of it changing, I eventually had enough. It wasn’t planned.” The words were spewing from my mouth, but I was unable to stop them now that the gates had been opened. “I knew Lloyd was away for a couple of weeks, he sent the obligatory text message, but the decision to pack and leave was made in the space of an hour. I hadn’t expected you. Or Ryan. Or Gunner. Although he was the smaller of the surprises.”

  He looked so terribly sad. I was about to ask if he was okay when he asked, “How many babies have you lost?”

  It was an innocent enough question. The detail wasn’t lost on me. “Twelve embryos in the four transfers. There are three left, but I don’t have the strength. I’ve accepted that children aren’t in my future and I’m okay with it. I’ve come to terms with it. Francis… well, if he feels so strongly about it, he can find himself someone who can fight the good fight for him.”

  “The problem is his?” he pressed.

  I shook my head and drained my bottle. “He has an issue, while I have a more complex issue. We were just unlucky.”

  He nodded as though he understood. “I’m sorry.”

  Swinging my feet around and rising from the sofa, I managed a small smile. “Don’t be. Things happen, it’s how we handle them that counts, isn’t it?”

  He smiled but didn’t get up as I went into to the kitchen.

  Gunner was already outside for the night, Ryan still wasn’t back, and I put my bottle on the kitchen table contemplating what to do. Have another beer, or go to my—Lloyd’s—room?

  I wasn’t particularly tired, but I didn’t want to outstay my welcome in the lounge. Thom had been kind enough to cook for me, and I’d already talked through whatever he’d been trying to watch. Talked. I’d spilled my guts. To a bloody stranger. He must have been thinking I was a complete head case after all that.

  “Penny for them.”

  His voice was soft, calm, but I still jumped out of my skin and turned sharply to face him.

  He was so close I could see the clear outline of his pecs through his tight t-shirt and smell his aftershave. It was intoxicating, fruity, and rich with a woodsy undertone that suited him perfectly, and I had to stop myself from inhaling too deeply.

  “I—” I didn’t have a clue what to say. Looking up and meeting his pale blue eyes, I wasn’t sure I could say anything.

  “Don’t,” he said, closing the small distance between us. “There’s nothing to apologise for. Forget Sam and Lloyd coming back for now, we can work something out when the time comes. Just use the time here to concentrate on getting back to being you.”

  As he spoke, my focus shifted from his eyes to his mouth. His lips.

  “Go out,” he continued. “Treat yourself. Get the tattoo. Cut your hair. Drink too much beer and book a holiday. Do something impossible. But most importantly, be happy.”

  He reached out and pushed my hair back from my face with his right hand, tucking the curls behind my ear. He was looking directly into my eyes for what felt like minutes, before dragging them down to my mouth.

  If anyone had told me a week ago that I’d find myself living under the same roof as two guys like Ryan and Thom, I’d have scoffed. That I’d end up grinding against Ryan on my brother’s bed, I’d have laughed in their face. That Thom would be leaning into me, our lips about to touch, right here in the same room where Ryan had kissed me so aggressively only days before, I’d say they were insane.

  Featherlight, Thom kissed me.

  My pulse beat rapidly in my ears and my entire body responded. The frustration that had built with Ryan, the tension I felt every time my phone rang, right up to the time I’d just spent studying his chiselled features, bubbled to the surface with that one tiny touch. It picked me up and swept me along, leaving no room for sensibility or reasonable talk.

  He matched my enthusiasm, kissing me harder, using his lips to part mine as his narrow hips angled to move me back towards the table.

  I let him lead. I wanted him to take control. I needed it. Running my hands up his toned chest and over his shoulders, I found the back of his neck and pulled him impossibly closer, forcing his tongue deeper into my mouth.

  Without breaking the kiss, his hands moved down to my ass as he bent, then grasped the backs of my legs to lift me onto the table.

  The way he lifted me, as if I didn’t weigh anything, had never happened to me before. It was hot and exciting, and I was beyond turned on.

  “I leave you alone for five minutes and you steal my girl?”

  My stomach flipped at the sound of his voice.

  Shit.

  While I hadn’t promised myself to him, Ryan had been the one to take me on a sort of date earlier that day, and now I was kissing his… friend?

  Expecting some sort of fight to break out, I winced, and Thom smiled against my mouth, a small chuckle shaking his shoulders as he pulled back from me. “You’re not anybody’s girl, are you, Lyla?”

  Dropping my hands from around his neck, I wiped my mouth and peeked around his shoulder.

  Ryan winked at me. “No? Well, I call that game on.”

  In four steps, he had his hand on Thom’s shoulder.

  As Ryan drew level, Thom turned his head. “You reckon?”

  They both looked at me.

  I swallowed, then wet my suddenly dry lips while sucking in a breath. I wanted to reply, to have a witty comeback, but words failed me.

  Everything failed me.

  Had I heard that correctly? Game on? For what? “I-I don’t understand, wh—”

  It was Thom who kissed me softly and asked, “If you’re yours, and I’m mine, and he’s his, we don’t have a problem, do we?”

  “I need a shower,” Ryan announced, “and I’m shattered.”

  Leaning forward, he kissed me on the cheek.

  “I’ll catch you tomorrow after work,” Ryan promised

  Then he turned his head to face Thom. At the time, I didn’t know what I was experiencing, my emotions were so jumbled, my mind and body fighting the arousal that flourished with Thom’s kiss. But I watched in stunned silence as Ryan closed the distance and kissed Thom fully on the lips. There was no hesitation, like he’d kissed him a thousand
times before, and knew Thom would welcome him.

  Ryan lingered, just for a second as his eyes closed, and his body seemed to relax from such a simple, sweet kiss.

  Then he pulled away, keeping eye contact with Thom, and stated, “I’ll sleep in my room tonight.”

  Thom simply nodded, then looked back at me as Ryan left the room with a smirk.

  “Lyla?” Thom whispered.

  My eyes were fixed on the kitchen door as Thom brushed my cheek with his thumb.

  “Lyla, are you okay?” Concern filled his tone.

  Forcing a smile, I met his worried gaze. “I… what the fuck just happened?”

  His easy laugh instantly calmed me. “That, love, is freedom.” He kissed me again before taking a step back, but didn’t go far as he laced his fingers through mine. “You’re a grown woman. You can do whatever the hell you like. Safety is a priority, obviously, but we’re clean, regular testing through work ensures it, and you’ve spent enough time around medical professionals to know what’s going on with your body.”

  He watched me for a moment, gauging my reaction, but I didn’t have one, not outwardly at least. I didn’t know what to say or even think about what he’d just said.

  Had he suggested I sleep with them? Both of them? I’d fantasised about it, had even been open to the very idea of it, but now that the suggestion was out there, could I really do it?

  “I think you should give yourself some time to process this,” he continued, when I failed to give a response. “But don’t stress, okay? You’re yours. It’s all about you and what you want. Always remember that.”

  As much as the conversation caught me off guard and I thought it was strange, I thanked him as I climbed off the table, kissed his cheek, and went directly to bed.

  I didn’t think I’d sleep with how much my thoughts spiralled, but I did.

  Dreamlessly.

  Freely.

  9

  Lyla

  I arrived back at the house a little after six with a boot full of bags, my hair considerably shorter, and my feet aching from far too much walking, but I’d had fun, way too much fun if the receipts were anything to go by. My second shopping trip in as many days left me feeling fabulous.

  I’d bought all different types of clothing—most I wouldn’t normally wear, but the point of the trip was to make changes. I was doing things my way for once, and not buying clothes with other people’s expectations in mind. It was refreshing not having to consider where I’d wear an outfit, or if I’d be part of the gossip mill because I wasn’t wearing what was considered an appropriate colour.

  Both Thom and Ryan’s cars were already in the driveway, signalling they were home.

  The little thrill of excitement at them being home was unexpected, but not unwelcome. I’d spent the day thinking, as well as spending, and I’d decided they were right. Thom, Ryan, and Betty all had very good points.

  I deserved to be happy, and for now, happiness was knowing they were home.

  With a skip in my step, I opened the boot of my Mercedes, and stared down at all the bags. There was a dog bed in there too, and the kitchen was the perfect place for it, but I couldn’t carry it right now. The bags were going to be hard enough to drag into the house and up the stairs—the lift back at the London house would have come in handy. I juggled the bags while trying to find my keys in my purse to let myself in. I had all the ingredients for dinner in one of the many bags I held, and hoped something wouldn’t already be cooking. I’d skipped lunch, my excitement at my new venture outweighing my need to eat, and now that I was home and no longer distracted by all the pretty fabrics, I was bloody famished. Not to mention, I hadn’t cooked on Monday like I was supposed to.

  I’d had more fun than I thought I would. I’d forgotten what it felt like to simply buy stuff I liked, to pick things up on a whim and not have to think about what charity ball, or afternoon tea session I’d need the outfit for.

  Unable to find my keys, I placed the bags on the floor to free up my hands, and a few strands of hair fell forward. The colour caught my attention, making me pause. I’d initially gone to the hairdressers for a restyle, but decided to dye it on a whim. Maggie—the stylist—had spent three hours cutting, colouring, and straightening my hair, and while it was only a few shades lighter, I felt like a new woman. How much of that was the hair and how much of it was the confidence I’d woken up with, I didn’t know, but I suspected both.

  Finally finding my keys, I managed to get the door open, and Gunner immediately greeted me. “Hey, boy. Why are you inside? Where are they at?”

  His head tilted to the side, likely wondering what the hell I was on about before he left me to head back into the living room. I snorted. As far as Gunner was concerned, I wasn’t an intruder, which meant he could go back to his nap before the guys found him on the furniture and placed him back outside in his pen. Once his bed was inside, there’d be no more of that.

  With a firm grip on all the bags, I maneuvered upstairs to dump them in Lloyd’s room with a plan to sort through them and properly try everything on after I’d prepared dinner. I didn’t want to leave them lying around, since there were two bags with several different types of new, lacy underwear, and I was sure Ryan would have something to say if he found them.

  Too busy trying to get all the bags up the stairs on the first try, I didn’t see the light spilling onto the landing from an open bedroom door until I was at the threshold. Ryan’s gaze fixed onto my new hair before they swept over my body, his hazel green eyes heating the longer he stared at me.

  To say I was getting used to his unbridled attention would be a lie. The effect his roving eyes had was equally as arousing as the indecent thoughts flashing through my mind. The memory of his hands and mouth on my breasts. His mouth on mine. On Thom’s…

  I took a second to admire him, the shopping bags crumpling as my grip involuntary tightened. He was dripping wet with a towel slung loosely around his hips, dipping dangerously low and exposing his Adonis belt.

  Shit, he was hot.

  Movement to my left startled me. Thom emerged from the bathroom with his head wrapped in a turban-style towel.

  “She should be—” Thom’s voice cut off as he pulled the towel from his head and spotted me at the top of the stairs. His eyes jumped from Ryan to me and back again for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind before dropping the towel in his hand. It was then I noted he was naked. No towel, nothing left to my imagination at all, except, perhaps, what those abs felt like beneath my hands. Without permission, my eyes inched further down to discover his cock was already hardening.

  Swallowing thickly, he tracked the movement of my throat. Eyes blazing, he pushed his hair back with his right hand and smiled, before stepping towards me and pulling the bags from my clenched hands.

  “Wh—” The word died on my tongue as Thom dropped my bags and stepped into me, pressing his body firmly against mine, his hard cock against my stomach.

  “You look beautiful,” he murmured against my lips, kissing me softly before he pulled back.

  My eyes jumped between his as he took me by both hands, and without taking his blue eyes from mine, he led me towards his open bedroom door and across the threshold—to Ryan.

  A thousand thoughts rattled through my mind as I continued to stare into his eyes.

  But only one stayed.

  I wanted this. I wanted them both, here and now.

  I’d hoped to prepare myself better, but they were ready. They were making the move and I wasn’t stupid enough to turn them down. It wasn’t every day one found oneself in this position, was it?

  I’d imagined variations over the last few days, but I’d pushed the thought away almost as soon as they formed.

  Almost.

  Ryan’s flirting. His overconfidence. The damn brazenness of him kissing me the way he had. His mild acceptance of me sharing something similar with Thom.

  His closeness with Thom.

  Who the fuck was I kiddi
ng? He was fucking Thom. He wanted to fuck me. They both did. And I wanted it all.

  I should have been terrified. I should have stopped it. The old me would have, but she’d been bound and gagged by whoever I became when I stepped into this house.

  This me wanted every illicit second.

  “You were always beautiful,” Ryan stated, brushing my hair back with a finger as the bedroom door clicked shut. “Is this what took so long?”

  Thom had reached us. Both of them were taller than me by a few inches, and Ryan glanced over my head as unseen hands gathered my hair and placed it over my right shoulder.

  “I preferred the curls,” Thom murmured by my exposed ear, before sucking the lobe into his mouth.

  It was an effort not to make a sound as my lips parted, a shudder ran through my body.

  Ryan watched my response, then lowered his head and kissed me.

  With a naked, hard Thom at my back, and a still damp, semi-naked Ryan at my front, my blood heated.

  Ryan’s kiss became demanding, his tongue brushing over my bottom lip, requesting access, while Thom moved from my ear to my jaw and then to my neck with soft, warm kisses.

  Awash with sensations I’d never experienced before, they pulled me into a cocoon of racing hearts and heat. Desire washed over me like a flood, and I let it take me, welcoming the deafening pounding of my pulse in my ears.

  “I really want to fuck you, Lyla,” Ryan muttered against my lips, reaching for the hem of my top.

  In answer to his admission, I raised my arms as Thom stepped back. I missed his presence immediately.

  I’d dressed comfortably for the weather—a peplum top and cropped linen trousers with a pair of sliders—which meant the top lifted right up and over my head with very little effort.

  Right before my arms were free, Ryan paused, keeping me there with my arms trapped.

  “This is right where we were before Thom interrupted us last week. Shall we pick up where we left off, or start again?”

  Hands settled on my waist, then moved up. Thom’s warm body pressed against my back, and his hard cock nestled against my ass. Their touch, their scent, their heat all heightened the feeling of being powerless between them. But I didn’t feel afraid. My powerlessness was purely the effect their bodies were having on mine. My mind was entirely my own.