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I text her back and then look in the mirror one last time.
"Get your shit together, Lexa," I murmur to my reflection.
This is fucking. Fucking I can understand. Fucking doesn't confuse me. Fucking I can allow myself. Anything else, I cannot.
I grab my purse and walk through my house to the front door. My mind is a mess on the way over, but I viciously shove down any thought except what I want to do with them once all our clothes are off. There are no doubts about anything when it comes to that. I will leave this house satisfied. But, do they expect me to stay the night now that we're at their house and not a resort? Whose bedroom will we be in, or is there some special one they bring women to when they share them in their home? Are we going to fuck the moment I get in the door or are we going to hang out like friends for a little while?
By the time I reach their house, the uncertainties have my mind racing. I notice my hands are shaking when I reach for my bag. What the fuck is wrong with me? I am not like this with anyone else, so why them? Sex is where I'm confident, where I know exactly what I want and need, so why is this situation any different? The answer doesn't come to me.
I take a deep breath that does little to relax me and get out of the car. Walking up their pathway, my eyes take in their house. Large, too large for just them, featuring gray brick, windows freaking everywhere, the shades open so you can see right into them. On the second floor, I can see a library that makes me wonder who uses it, and a home gym that doesn't surprise me at all.
"Typical." I chuckle to myself. It's a needed chuckle as I reach their door.
Nerves thrum through me, but right alongside it is excitement, desire, and curiosity for what else they can show me about what being with two men is like. I raise my hand and press my finger to their doorbell. No going back now.
