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“We were together for three years. Engaged for one. We were part of two separate polyamorous relationships over the last year and a half. Both went sour but the last one was the final nail in the coffin.”

Holy shit. He’s into poly relationships. I’m not sure about the ins and outs of what they do, but I know it’s the big time. It’s even too much for Meredith and Grayson. “Two women at once. I hear that’s every guy’s fantasy.”

“The sex part is a fantasy come true. Won’t lie. Being with two women was a sex fantasy realized. The relationship aspect, a total nightmare

I’m curious about this lifestyle. “How so?”

“What should have been a sexual partner in our bed quickly turned into a second woman in my life. She became a part of everything in and out of the bedroom.”

A triad relationship. I can’t begin to imagine how that works. Or maybe it doesn’t. He said it went bad.

“When I love, it’s wholeheartedly, and I demand the same in return. I have to be everything or nothing at all. I could never share. I’d be consumed with jealousy and tied in knots all the time.” I know firsthand from my experience with Drake’s infidelity.

“Erin was my primary and could be territorial when it suited her. Jealousy was an issue.”

I’m calling bullshit. “She couldn’t have been too territorial if she allowed you to bring another woman into your bed.”

“It wasn’t me. Erin’s the one who introduced Jenna into our lives.”

“Mind. Blown.” What kind of woman would do that? Maybe a bisexual one.

“It was great at first but then Erin’s job became more demanding. It consumed the majority of her time. Being alone with Jenna so often brought us closer.”

“Meaning more sex between you and Jenna without Erin.”

“Right. Erin despised us sharing something special that didn’t include her.” Sounds like she considered herself the hierarchy on the sex pyramid.

This is a no-brainer. “I can see where that would go over like a turd in a punchbowl.”

“You say some of the damnedest things.” Beau’s words are nearly drowned by his chuckles, and I’m reminded of how it feels to make a man laugh. No sneer. No smirk or cruel smile. Just a simple expression of amusement.

I spend the majority of my time with teenagers. After a while, a bit of their adolescent behavior tends to rub off. “I’m sorry. I sidetracked you. You were telling me about Jenna.”

“Right. Jenna was thinking long-term. She started talking about getting married and having children, so Erin forced her out of the relationship.”

That doesn’t explain the terrible thing Erin did. “But that wasn’t the end of it?”

“I thought it was. I expected to get married and put our poly life on the back burner for a while.”

I can see where this train wreck is going. “She brought another woman into your bed.”

“You’re half-right. It was a man the next time. Heath.”

If he didn’t already have my full attention, he’d damn sure has it now. “Dude-on-dude action. The plot thickens.”

“I don’t do dick. It’s pussy only for me.” Good grief. That mouth.

I don’t know jack shit about this multiple partner stuff, but I understand a scorned woman’s mind and how it works. “Heath was your punishment for growing close to Jenna.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. She sure gave me a taste of my own medicine.”

“I’m not sure that’s a fair statement since she’s the one who did the soliciting. But one thing’s for certain. Invite trouble inside and it will enter every time.”

“It gets so much worse.”

“You watched your fiancée have sex with another man. I can’t imagine it getting more unpleasant than that.”

“Erin was pregnant. It was mine. We know because the timing made it impossible for the baby to be Heath’s.”

I was wrong. It can get so much worse.

“I came home from work one day last month and Heath had taken her to the abortion clinic. The procedure was done before I knew about it. The kid was mine, and I didn’t get a say if it lived or not.”

He’s hurting, and I don’t know how to respond. Something inside me wants to comfort him, but to say “I’m sorry” feels so insignificant. So empty.

This man isn’t wounded over a woman. He’s grieving a loss sex won’t cure. “Are you sure you should be here?”

“I came to fuck ninety-nine different ways. This is definitely the place I need to be.”

He can’t fuck away this kind of pain. “How many of those ninety-nine ways have you gotten under your belt so far?”

“None yet. I just got here.”

That seems like an excessive amount of sex during a getaway. “How many days are you staying?”

“Nine.” Same as us.

“I’m no mathematician but you’re here nine days, counting today. That means you have to fuck eleven different ways per day if you’re going to squeeze in ninety-nine. You better get crackin’, sir.”

“There’s no hurry. There’ll be plenty of opportunities after midnight. That’s when things heat up.” I’ll definitely be safely tucked in my bed long before then.

I’m guessing I’ll be sick of this place by the end of nine days. It all seems so extreme. “Do you typically stay so long?”

“No. I’ve always done long weekends because of work.”

I recall the variety of people I’ve seen since my arrival. “Do you have standards for the people you have sex with or is a vagina the only requirement?”

He chuckles. “Of course I have standards. Don’t you?”

“Absolutely. High ones.”

“What does a girl like you look for?”

He’s lumped me into some kind of category. “A girl like me? What does that mean?”

“A vanilla girl.”

I am vanilla but I’ve not yet decided if I’m going to be pissed off about having that label placed on me. “Call me old-fashioned but I don’t long to be double penetrated.”

“You might like it if you tried it.”

I hate being judged. “You assume I haven’t.”

“You assume I have.” He totally has me there.

“You’re the one who was in a sexual triad involving two guys and a girl. Two dicks. One vagina. Three assholes. I already know you aren’t into dudes so my assumption was made by process of elimination.”

He laughs. “You sort of have a dirty mouth.”

“Not dirty. Innocent-challenged.” He hasn’t heard shit out of me yet. “I’m curious to know what you thought of it.”

“It feels great.”

I hear a silent but in there somewhere. “But you hated her being with another man?”

“Of course. She was going to be my wife. I loved her. Every time Heath came into our bed, it was a reminder I was never going to be enough to satisfy her.”

Does the poly want out?

“Be happy you figured it out before you married her instead of after.”

“My affec

tion for her slipped a little further away every time I saw them together. The love I had for her eventually drifted beyond my grasp. I tried but couldn’t get it back. She became nothing more than a body to me, an object I used for getting off.” I can believe that.

“Will your next relationship be polyamorous?”

“I have no idea. I only know I came here to fuck the two of them off my mind. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

Sex isn’t a fix for what’s going on in his head. And heart. But he has to figure that out for himself.

“I don’t want to talk about those fuckers anymore. I rather hear about your vanilla girl high standards.”

“I want true and beautiful.” I bet he thinks that’s unrealistic.

“Total myth. Doesn’t exist in today’s world.” Pessimist. He’s probably a glass half-empty kind of guy.

“It does. I saw it between my mother and father. The fairy tale is real, and I won’t settle for less.”

“This is a different generation. But I wish you the best of luck with that.”

“Tell me your standards since you have so little faith in love.”

“I could tell you but it would be so much easier to show you.”

My stomach flips; I don’t know what that means. “A verbal description would suffice.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun. You can help me choose my first of ninety-nine fucks.”

Oh. That’s not what I thought he meant. It’s a total wakeup call for what Beau likes. “I don’t think so. It was lovely meeting you but I think it’s time for me to go in for the evening.”

“Don’t go, Peach. It’s still early.” All the more reason for me to get back to my suite before things heat up around this place.

I leave the water and go to my dress and panties on the beach. I shake my dress before pulling it over my head.

He comes out of the water and is by my side stepping into his trousers. “Did I say something to upset you?”

“Nah. It’s all good.” I’ve enjoyed my non-hedonist time with Beau, but he’s ready to go on the hunt. It’s time for this to end.

Despite attempting to decline, Beau insists on walking me back to my room. Claims he wants to ensure I make it there safely. That may or may not be the truth but it doesn’t matter.

He’s a hedonist.

Hell, he’s poly.

I’m not.

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