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Matt didn’t ask more questions or stroke her back or even kiss her tears away. Instead he tipped up her chin and murmured, “We have onion rings.”
The response was so totally Matt she chuckled through her tears. “Yeah?”
“And root beer,” he added. “And chocolate cake and ice cream—”
Her stomach burbled, and he laughed. “Come on.” He kicked the rope off the bed and turned off the TV, as if the final shot of them tangled together wasn’t still onscreen.
She nodded, already smiling. At least until she saw Tristan’s jaw tense as he turned away from the doorway. A moment later, the front door closed.
Cait glanced at Matt and grabbed the button-down shirt he offered her from his closet. “Where do you think he went?” she asked, shrugging into the soft flannel.
“Probably to go shoot something,” Matt said, doing up her buttons himself.
Again she laughed, though it wasn’t particularly funny. She didn’t like being the cause of anyone’s unhappiness, particularly Tristan’s. But dammit, couldn’t he see she was going through hell too?
“He’s not a hunter.”
“Always a first time,” he said, reaching down to cup her. His lips quirked as he dipped into the surfeit of moisture gathered along her seam. “I think we should make him regret stomping off.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s go eat. If he’s still not back when we’re finished, we’ll see what we can do about your little problem.”
“Virginity is not a problem. It’s a treasure. A gift to be shared with the man lucky enough to traverse the twisty road to a woman’s secrets.” She leaned up to kiss his lips, still cold from outside, as he reached under flannel to cup her ass.
“I’ll remember that.” Playfully he bit the tip of her tongue. “You know, I’ve never been with a virgin.”
“No?” She grinned, relieved the urge to cry had disappeared. For now. “First time for everything,” she said, patting his chest.
Tristan walked and walked, his only goal exhaustion. Only a fool would waste this night with Caity and Matt, but he needed some time alone.
For the longest time, he’d been good at pretending everything was just fine. Why it was so much harder now, he didn’t know. After all, he’d been putting up a front for almost a year.
He’d never considered the three of them actually getting together outside his fantasies before he’d slept with Matt, though he’d never considered actually doing that until the option had been presented to him either. TD had been his focus since shortly after college. He’d thrown himself into work with a fervor his doctor and lawyer parents appreciated—trying to make good for pursuing an art career over something more “stable”—which left little room to wonder what was missing. He’d never lacked for partners to share his bed, God knows. And he’d never had to look for things to take up his attention, making it virtually impossible to dwell.
Before last Christmas.
Matt, he suspected, hadn’t seen them getting together as anything more than a natural extension to their friendship. He didn’t worry about labels. Gay, not gay, who cared? As long as it felt good, he was on board.
But he wasn’t like that. Discovering he had sexual feelings for a man changed him. Especially once he realized those feelings hadn’t negated his desire for Caity. In some weird way, they’d actually amplified it.
Since then he’d been fighting a losing battle not to screw everything up. Dozens of times, he’d considered just coming clean to both of them and to hell with it. But he hadn’t. And then Matt had told him Caity knew they were lovers, and the window to the life he’d dreamed of but hadn’t dared ask for had opened.
He'd be damned if he’d shut it now. Not without giving this chance everything he had.
She didn’t want to be strong-armed. Despite her enjoying playing power games in bed, that was the method least likely to work with Caity. She was independent and strong, and he loved that about her. The only way he’d—they’d—win her love would be to treat her as an equal and show her more pleasure than she could stand. They’d have to offer her a deal she couldn’t refuse.
Shoving his freezing hands in his pockets, he turned around about a half mile from the cabin. He was not going to spend tonight out in the woods while the two of them fucked like bunnies in his absence. He knew Matt well enough to know he’d be getting inside her sooner rather than later.
He grinned and strode a little faster. Damn opportunist.
When he neared the cabin, it started to snow again. Light flakes drifted over his face and snuck down the back of his neck into his jacket. Good thing they wouldn’t need to head down the mountain until Sunday night. Being snowed in suited him just fine.
Instead of going straight inside, he stopped beside the frosted window next to the front door. He hadn’t dressed warmly enough, but loss of body heat became a problem he didn’t need to contend with as he watched Caity and Matt roll around on the rug in front of the raging fire.
Her blonde hair flamed in the dark. Strong hands reached up to grab fistfuls of it, dragging her mouth to his. She was on top—and very naked—and firelight highlighted every supple curve. Beneath her, Matt planted his feet, lifting his hips against her center so suggestively that Tristan groaned aloud.
Christ, if he kept watching this, he’d need to grab his own dick. He glanced around. Maybe it was time he took a page from Matt’s “what the hell” playbook.
