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Petra
I’m just finishingup pouring some sweet tea into the glasses on the table when I hear the muffled sounds of bare feet pattering into the kitchen. I’d already shooed the dogs outside so we could eat without looking at their pitiful begging faces at the table, and I see them all lounging in the shade at the back of the house. So I smile and turn to the men… and just about drop the pitcher. So much manly flesh is on view, and it’s all exquisite. I knew Weston was ripped, but Callum was hiding under those shirts of his he wears to work. Oh. My. Lord. “Wh…?” I start to ask.
“It’s Topless Tuesday,” Callum announces as Weston snorts.
“It’s not Tuesday,” I protest weakly.
“Then it’s Fabulous Fun Times Friday,” he counters. “We were hot.”
“Yes, we are,” laughs Weston, and he looks at Callum like he’d like to lick his chest. Then he turns to me and adds, “Feel free to join us,” and he winks.
“Uh…” I don’t have words. Seriously, they’ve short-circuited me with their masculine scrumptiousness. “Let’s eat?” It comes out a little squeakier than I’d planned.
We sit down and enjoy an amazing concoction of curried chicken salad in papaya boats with delicious little orange-flavored muffins on the side. I don’t know what I’m enjoying more—the food or the view. There are so many happymmmsounds and lascivious looks flying around the table, I can’t believe it. It’s like a plug was pulled, and all of our wishful-thinking ideas are floating around our heads like thought bubbles.
“Seriously, Petra,” Weston says again, “it’s awfully warm in here. Why don’t you get rid of your shirt and get comfortable? You’re looking rather red-faced like you’re way too hot. And I do mean thatyou’rehottoo.”
“Did you turn off the AC on purpose?” I ask.
Weston smiles enigmatically, and Callum snorts at him.
“So, Callum,” I say, “have you ever discussed with Weston what you told me a little while ago?” I want to get the focus off of me for a while as I’m not sure I’d be comfortable having lunch topless right now. Or ever, actually. It just sounds weird to me.
“That I’m bisexual?” He turns to Weston whose eyes light up. “It hadn’t come up in so many words, no.”
Weston blinks a couple of times and then grins.
I look pointedly at Weston and see clearly how interested he is in this. Suddenly, I feel all squiggly inside like eels have invaded my tummy or something. And I feel an even deeper blush creeping over my face. “Do you have any response to that, Weston?”
“Hot damn,” Weston laughs. Then he adds, “I bet Callum is as yummy as his muffins. I’d love a taste, wouldn’t you, Petra?”
Ignoring that question, I ask, “Is anyone surprised?” I look between their faces and see that their eyes are locked on eachother. Now I’m getting the sense of how Callum felt when he entered the house. I suddenly feel like the spare tire that’s stuffed in the trunk. But as soon as that sensation registers, both men look at me without changing their expressions. “Oh!” I breathe. This is heady stuff being under their combined scrutiny. It seems they weren’t joking about my shirt and topless dining. I take a cooling swallow of sweet tea.
“I bet she’s as sweet as the tea. What do you think, Callum?”
“Would we be too much for you, Petra?” Callum asks. “You said you’d researched certain… ah… configurations.”
“She has?” Weston asks with a grin.
“Indeed, our Petra here is a self-proclaimed expert on sex with multiples. Didn’t you know?”
Squeezing my legs together under the table and squirming in my seat, I say, “I wouldn’t gothatfar.”
“You refuse to experience a ménage?” Callum asks with wide eyes. “Why not?”
“No, um, what I meant was I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself an expert.”
“So youwouldbe open to ménage sex,” Weston crows with a huge grin. “Outstanding.”
“You’re both putting words into my mouth.” I am so flustered and, quite honestly, turned on right now, I can’t stand it. “I explained to Callum that I research various multiples for sex scenes that I write so I can get things straight and make them sound realistic. I haven’t actually everdoneanything like that.”
“But you’d be willing to?” Callum asks.
I take a deep breath. “Maybe if the right opportunity arose, I’d be game for some… experimentation. I can’t deny thinking about it.”
“Why don’t you start by expressing your appreciation to Callum for this splendid lunch he brought us. I’m sure Callumwould like that,” he directs his eyes to Callum, who seems to be eyeballing me, “wouldn’t you, Callum?”
Callum scoots back from the table. “Sounds perfect,” he answers as he opens his arms to me. “Come sit on my lap, Petra.” Then he adds, “Now that you know I’m not several years younger than you, and you wouldn’t feel like a cougar.”
