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My parents were modest upper-middle-class accountants, and I was their only child. But I think even I was a regretful incident because my childhood was spent feeling mostly ignored and brushed off. Never overly affectionate or attentive, I found my role models of love and affection in novels. What started asLittle WomenandEmma, quickly becameFlowers in the AtticandThe Claiming of Sleeping Beauty.Every wicked curiosity and dirty thought I had stayed buried deep inside me and the space between my bed and my mattress hid more smutty romance novels than I can count.
Everyone thought I was so knowledgeable and astute because of my countless trips to the library and second-hand bookstores, but only the librarian knew the truth. Oh, I was knowledgeable all right. Knowledgeable in the many eclectic terms used to describe an erect penis.
On the day I passed Hunter and Drake for the first time, I was returning books three through seven of a popular romance series in hopes they would have any of books eight through sixteen. I was like an addict in desperate need of a hit.
Then, I met my own alpha. A man who could show me everything I had ever wanted to explore while never making me feel like a deviant for what I wanted. Even if he did act annoyingly like a gentleman in the early days. I was only seventeen when we met and although he started talking to me at that time, he made me wait the four months between then and my eighteenth birthday before he would touch me.
And then another six months before he would have sex with me. I was a fiend for him. And I think he liked making me wait as a form of torture. Hunter doesn’t always like to inflict pain, but he does like to be in control.
A lot of that came from his childhood. I know his home life was not nearly as comfortable as mine. He’s told me about his abusive father. Hunter and I were desperate for a stable, loving home and not for entirely different reasons. We were lucky to find each other, so we could share the love and attention we both craved growing up.
But I notice things. I’d be blind not to. The way he glances at Drake sometimes. The way his jaw clenches when Drake mentions being with another man. For so long, I brushed it off as being a little uncomfortable with his friend’s open sexuality, but I’m seeing things differently now. This whole arrangement has me itching to point out to my husband that perhaps that irritation doesn’t come from judgment, but from jealousy.
Jealous of Drake for being able to live so freely. Or even jealous of the men who get a piece of his best friend he can never have.
What if Hunter has been putting on a facade this entire time? Stifling these feelings to protect me. He can’t exactly explore his sexuality if he’s married.
But I want him to. I mean…I had sex with his best friend, for goodness' sake.
If there was ever a time to open this door, even to just peek through, now’s the time.
Drake says something that makes Hunter laugh, and they share a quick glance, but Hunter’s eyes linger on Drake’s face—as they often do.
* * *
“Oh look, two beds,”Drake jokes as he disappears into the second bedroom of our rental in Nashville. We opted out of the hotels for the rest of the trip, since renting an apartment seems to be the better choice. Although if you ask me…sleeping sandwiched between those two wasn’t so bad at all.
“I’m exhausted,” Hunter replies as he drops onto the plush sofa and reclines his head against the arm.
“I’m not,” I reply eagerly.
“Of course you’re not. You slept the whole way here.”
Only because you two gave me quite the workout last night…is what Iwantto say. But I don’t. We’re not really talking about what happened so casually just yet. Besides, saying stuff like that makes it feel normal, like we do it all the time, which we don’t. This isn’t a relationship. It’s a fantasy.
But as I stare out the window of this second-floor apartment in the city, I fantasize for a moment about what that would look like. Drake in our marriage. No more waking up next to just Hunter, but waking up next to both of them. Every night and every day, it could be the three of us.
“Let’s go do something fun. I’m bored,” I whine as I approach a half-awake Hunter on the couch.
He drapes an arm over his face and lets out a low groan, but I know exactly how to perk him up, so I straddle his hips and grind down just a little.
“What are you doing?” he mutters from under his arm.
“Trying to wake you up.”
A low hum rumbles up from his chest as I grind a little harder this time.
“Are you ever not in the mood?” he asks.
I lean down and bury my face in his neck. “Nope.” He finally pulls his arm away from his face and runs his hands along my backside.
Then we hear a door slam in the bedroom where Drake disappeared to. “What the fuck?” he barks.
I sit up in a rush, staring in fear at the bedroom. My worst fears involve cockroaches or hidden cameras, but to my surprise, Hunter only laughs.
My head snaps back in his direction. “What’s so funny?”
Drake finally appears in the doorway with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. “What the fuck did you do?” he asks, staring at Hunter.
