Page 8 of A Season Of Sin

“Oh,” she mutters. “I thought you talked to him about it. That’s why he came over.”

Jace shakes his head. “No, babe. He’s really here because of the storm.”

“Oh. Not for…” Gracie trails off, but Jace picks up what she’s puttin’ down.

Looking anywhere but us, the man sighs. “No. Not for that.”

“Oh…” Her lips round into a perfect O, and her eyes bulge. “Oh. Crap. I’m soooo sorry.” Flushed and flustered, Gracie tries to get out of my lap, but I wrap my arms around her soft middle and don’t let her escape. Not until she lets me know what is going on.

Hooking my finger under her chin, I force those honey eyes on mine. “Where do you think you’re goin’, sweetness?”

“I… I should probably start dinner.”

Releasing her face, I brush the back of my fingers across her cheek, to the side of her neck, where I cuff my hand. “Or you can tell me what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Do I have to?” she whispers, her wide eyes swimming with emotion. There are little flecks of orange around the middle.

Stunning.

“Yeah. I should probably know.”

Tossing his head against the back of the sofa, Jace squeezes his eyes shut and groans. “Please don’t be pissed.”

“What do I have to be pissed about?” There’s nothing they could say that would piss me off. Not about this, anyhow.

“That you’re my hall pass,” he grouses like he’s angry at himself, which is nonsense.

“You wanna fill me in on what that means exactly?” I look to Jace and back to Gracie for some clarity.

“Gracie.” Jace groans his wife’s name, and it sounds a whole lot like him begging her to take him out of his misery and tell me so he doesn’t have to.

“Jace has had a crush on you forever,” the sweet brunette explains, running a fingertip across my shoulder and down my arm, where she stops at my wrist and traces the outline of my tattoo that peeks out from under the cuff of my shirt. “A few years ago, for our twenty-fifth birthdays, we agreed we could each have a hall pass. Jace picked you.”

Well… shit.

My cock gives a cursory twitch, loving this far more than I should, as I turn my attention to Jace. “Kid, I didn’t know you were bi.”

“He’s not,” Gracie quickly replies.

“What do you mean he’s not? If I’m his hall pass.”

“He’s never been with a man before,” she fills in.

I peek over at the distressed man. He’s still staring up at the ceiling with his eyes closed, and he won’t stop tugging at his clothes. “Then how am I your hall pass?” I ask.

“Because he wants to try it and wanted his first time to be with you,” Gracie explains.

“I don’t bottom,” I announce so they know straight up that dicks don’t go in my ass. I’ve tried it. Once. It was a horrible, painful, submissive experience that I fuckin’ hated. I’ve had a few fingers up there before, so I’m okay with a bit of penetration. Just as I’m okay with a tongue eatin’ me out. But a cock… Nope. Fuck no. Never again.

“Wait. W-what?” Jace sputters, his face ten shades of red as he darts his gaze to me, with eyes just as wide as his wife’s. “You’re into guys?”

Duh.

I snort. “Yes. I’m bisexual.”

“Holy fuck.” His jaw damn near falls into his lap.

I smother my smile, so he doesn’t take offense, and when that doesn’t quite work, I clear my throat, so I don’t come across as a smug asshole. “What? A biker can’t be into both chicks and dicks?” I cock my head to the side and await Jace’s reply.