Page 87 of Taking Turns

“You said you get me. But Smith said the same thing. So I don’t understand. If you really wanted me, then why share with each other?”

“No,” I say, rubbing the stubble on my chin. “No, that’s not what he meant.” I don’t think, anyway. It’s not what I meant, I do know that for sure. “I’m not in love with you, Marcella. I didn’t fall in love with Rochelle right away either. So it’s nothing personal.”

“So why am I the prize?”

I stare at her face and just now notice how blue her eyes are. It’s a striking contrast to her dark mahogany hair. “You’re not a prize. You’re just… I don’t really know how to explain it. You’re just… ours.”

“So it’s the sharing that you like? You say you’re in love with Rochelle, but you didn’t mind sharing her with Bric and Smith?”

“That’s why we have the numbers and the rules.”

“Explain,” she says.

“Bric already explained—”

“I know, but I need to hear it again. It all went too fast and I just want to make sure I understand.”

I sigh. I really don’t like talking about the arrangement. But she deserves to have her questions answered. “Number One is there to deny you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Number Two is there to satisfy you after the abstinence. Number Three is there to give you what you really want—Number One, with conditions.”

“How do you decide who is who? Like how did you get to be One and then be Two? Do you just go in order? Taking turns?”

“No. Number One goes to the guy who likes her most. Usually, but not always, the guy who makes the offer.”

I think she stops breathing. “So Smith—”

“Yeah,” I say. “He’s the one who wanted you. I was the one who wanted Rochelle even though Bric found her first. I just… liked her.”

“Has Bric ever been Number One?” she asks. She’s gripping her coffee mug so tightly, her knuckles are white.

“I’m sure he has, but I don’t remember which girl it was. One of the meaningless early ones. Before we really got a handle on things. He lets us choose most of the time.”

“And yet you and Smith both say I’m what you get out of this.” She shakes her head. It makes no sense to her. “What will Bric say? If I ask him that question on Wednesday?”

“He’ll say the same thing. He gets you. With us.”

“With us—meaning the three of you? So you’re in love with them?”

“Who?” I laugh. “Bric and Smith? Fuck no.”

“Then why, Quin? Why do you share together? It’s so intimate. It’s very fucking taboo. And it’s got a lot of potential for misplaced emotions and hurt feelings. So why?”

“All those reasons, I guess. It’s challenging. Stimulating in a way that you can’t get through other means. I like them, don’t get me wrong. I’m comfortable with them. I’m comfortable with what we do. It’s erotic. And just plain fucking hot, you know? I wouldn’t want to watch Bric and Smith fuck the same girl if I didn’t like them. And I like the thrill of participating in the domination of one woman at the same time. I like the way we make her feel helpless and submissive. I like telling her to suck Bric’s cock or sit on Smith’s face. I like the way we fuck together. Is that so hard to understand?”

She exhales a long breath of air. “Yeah. It’s hot. I admit that. It turns me on pretty hard. But as a woman, I just don’t get why you want to do it over and over again, with the same girl, knowing the complications.”

“So why are you here? And don’t say Rochelle. That can’t be it. No one just walks into an arrangement like this because a friend wants out and needs a replacement.”

“If I tell you, will you keep it a secret? Or are you under some obligation to tell the others?”

“I’ll probably tell them. Eventually. If they ask. They have a right to know.”

She hesitates. Her secret is on the tip of her tongue, but she bites it back when she hears my answer.

“Let me ask you this,” I say. “Do you want to lose this game?”

“I can’t even answer that. What does winning mean?”

“Well, I’ll tell you what losing means. It means we kick you out of this apartment, you go back home, and we never talk to you again.”