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And Jason glared right back at Brent, shoulders tense, almost growling like he was ready to take it up right there. But I stepped in before things could get crazy.
“How about forty-eight hours then?” I said softly, seizing each of their hands. “We’ll give ourselves two days to think things through, and if we’re all still on-board, then we’ll regroup and hammer out the details.”
Silence for a moment. Both men looked like they’d swallowed something gross, something that made them choke and hurl. But forty-eight hours was doable, we were human beings and not animals with no self-control.
So Jason nodded.
“Fine,” he grunted, none too graciously.
And Brent agreed as well.
“We’ll re-group in two days and see where everyone is,” he intoned smoothly. “But honey, I know I won’t change my mind.”
The heat in Jason’s eyes told me the same, that these two men were so intent on loving me, on taking me, possessing and cherishing, that whatever form or fashion was enough, they’d take whatever I was giving.
And the knowledge made my heart sing, made me unbelievably happy, my emotions soaring on Cloud Nine.
“Oh good,” I said softly, “because I want you too, both of you,” I amended. “This break is just a small precaution, just in case. Because who knows what could happen?” I said with a wry smile. “Maybe lightning will strike.”
Silence for a moment.
“I’d need a lobotomy to change my mind,” said Brent wryly. “I’m forty-five honey, forty-eight hours isn’t gonna make a difference.”
And Jason nodded as well.
“Naw, me neither,” was all he said, staring at me intently, making me grow warm all over again. And whaddya know, but our nosy waitress sashayed over once more.
“Anything else I can get for you folks?” she asked sassily, cocking one hip out, forcing us to notice the way her apron was tied tight around her waist, boobs busting out. “Water? Coke? Beer? Another sandwich?”
The way the middle-aged woman gushed made me embarrassed for her, how she fawned over the two men, ignoring me completely. And was it my imagination, or had she blown out her hair while we were eating, taken a hairdryer to her strands? The locks looked suspiciously silky although she hadn’t held back with the hairspray, the artificial smell filling my nostrils, making me choke.
But my lovers took it in a stride.
“Naw we’re good,” drawled Brent. “Just the check.”
And the waitress simpered, nodding agreeably, probably slipping him her phone number as he paid. But it didn’t bother me because these were my men, they belonged to me, we belonged to one another and the waiting period was a mere formality. Because what could really change? We’d already sampled each other physically and knew we were a fit. Plus, living together for a year made sure we were on intimate terms, our personalities complementary.
So I turned back to the men before getting into the truck cab.
“It’ll be good after,” I promise, I breathed. “It’ll be really good, you’ll see.”
Jason and Brent nodded again, their eyes hard, hot and hungry on my curvy form, saying nothing, the air crackling with feeling, with sheer need.
“I promise,” I said again softly, shutting the car door. “I promise, it will.”
And internally, my heart pounded. Because it was true, things would be perfect … they had to be.
CHAPTER NINE
Katy
I couldn’t wait for the waiting period to be over, I was dying for my men. But what do you know, Jock McMahan called and asked me out right when we got back.
“Hey yo, you wanna see a movie?” he grunted into the phone.
My first instinct was to say no. This guy grossed me out and I didn’t care if he was a stud at school. I had my lovers and that was that. But a feeling of caution overtook me. After all, my set-up with Jason and Brent wasn’t exactly “normal.” I was a teen girl exploring a ménage with two men, what would happen if word got out? We’d be the talk of the town, people would surely think I was trash. So to preserve the illusion of normalcy a little longer, I agreed.
“Sure,” I said reluctantly. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had to sound excited, like a cooing, fawning girl. So I forced myself to man up. “Which movie did you want to see Jock?” I chirped then, trying to sound eager and willing.
And the dumb lunkhead was so clueless, so down on his ability to read other human beings that he grunted.
“How about Insidious 2?” he said. “I saw Insidious 1, it was fuckin’ amazing.”
I almost backed out then, unable to stomach the thought of Jock’s company and a horror movie combined together. Because I hate horror flicks, I hate worms crawling out of eyeballs, ghosts that come back from the dead, that stuff bores me. So my mind spun furiously, trying to think of something else.
