Andrew stops in his tracks and curses as he scrubs his hands over his face. “Why did you have to fucking say something like that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” I tell him as I take a few steps to bridge the distance between us. I take his hands in mine. “That first night at The Wicked Horse, when we watched each other, I wanted you from that moment. I didn’t know I had this side to me, Andrew, but I know it now. I’m not ashamed of it. For some reason, it feels just right to me and I’m not going to ignore that.”
“You mean having sex with different men?” he asks me hesitantly.
“That’s how it started. I was exploring my sexuality. And that exploration led me to watching you, then being with Dane, and then being with you both, and I liked it more than I should. There’s something about what we did last night that speaks deeply to me, and I can only assume it’s because we have this amazing foundation of friendship. It just made everything better, and it all seemed so right. Didn’t it feel a little right to you?”
Andrew lets out a pent-up breath and the expression on his face is pained. “It felt both very right and very wrong.”
“And the wrongness of it is part of what’s right,” I tell him, and he jolts from my words. I can see I’ve hit the mark. It’s the dirty, taboo element of what we did last night that he most enjoyed.
Same as me.
“I don’t want anyone else,” I explain so he knows what this is. “I want you, and I want Dane. But wanting isn’t enough. We all have to be okay with this because if one of us isn’t, then it all has to stop. If you can’t envision this working, or you can’t envision me with Dane, then it’s over. We all stop, and we go back to just being the greatest of friends who took a risk and realized when it was time to get out.”
Andrew’s eyebrows draw inward. “So, we what… have a ménage relationship? Which I’m not even sure that’s the appropriate term, but the three of us are together?”
“Maybe,” I say without any real idea if this is right. “I guess. We could all be together, or we could be with each other individually at times.”
“How does that even work?” Andrew says with frustration as he pulls his hands from mine. “I mean… do we all sleep together at night? And how the fuck do you explain that shit to your conservative parents at Thanksgiving? ‘Oh, hey, Mom… we’ll all sleep in my bedroom together because we’re all about the triple loving’.”
“I don’t know, Andrew,” I admit with defeat. “I just know I want to be with you and Dane. I know Dane wants it. The question is, do you? If you don’t, that’s okay, and we work super fucking hard to make sure this friendship stays strong. But if you do, I only think we can take it one step at a time.”
“It’s just sex though, right?” he pushes for clarification, but I can’t say for sure.
“That’s a big part of it. But you and I both know it’s better than just regular sex because of the bond we already have. So, it’s definitely something more.”
Andrew shakes his head as if he can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. His eyes heat with anger. He turns away from me, takes two steps, and then spins back around. “This is fucking insane, Avril. Last night… no goddamn words to describe it. Best fucking experience of my life, and yet, I’m betting most people would think that was some whacked shit.”
“It’s considered quite normal in The Wicked Horse,” I murmur. “That’s what that club is all about.”
“But we’re not in The Wicked Horse right now, are we?” he says in a low, rumbling voice as he steps back up to me. His hand comes to the side of my neck, fingers sliding to the back. “You said you’d welcome me into your body. That seems like an entirely different animal than us having a dirty threesome in a sex club.”
I have to tilt my head to look up to him, and I hate the conflict I see in his eyes. I want to make this okay for him, but I don’t know how to at all. I just know he needs to decide what he wants to do.
“Do you want me to stay or do you want me to go?” I ask.
His eyes bore into mine and he swallows hard, but he remains silent as he looks at me. With a sigh, I step to the side to push past him, but his hand grabs my arm and he spins me back around.
Anger contorts his face, but I also see a heat in his eyes that has nothing to do with his raging emotions. My belly flips with recognition of what he wants.
“Guess I want you to stay,” he mutters as he takes my wrist and pushes my hand against his crotch. He’s hard as a rock, and my entire body trembles with anticipation.
“Let’s go in your bedroom,” I suggest.
Andrew shakes his head furiously. “Not there. Right here.”
This causes my heart to clench, because there’s no doubt Andrew doesn’t want me in his bedroom because that’s too intimate. I know him, and I can see by the determined look on his face that if he’s going to jump into this with Dane and me, he’s going to do so with the idea in mind that this is truly only sex to him. I know that’s the way he’s choosing to protect himself, and that’s okay by me. I want all our hearts protected.
Andrew’s kiss hits me like a thunderstorm, rolling through me in booming waves. In moments, our clothes are gone and we’ve stumbled backward onto the couch. Andrew shoves his computer and bag to the floor without a care, and then presses his big body down onto mine. Somehow, he works his hand in between us, his fingers playing between my legs until I’m a squirming mess.
He breaks a hot kiss to look down at me. “Last night… we didn’t use protection.”
“I’m on the pill, and Dane and I are safe. I assume by you sticking your cock in me last night, you were, too. Because I trust you.”
Andrew gives me an understanding nod before his mouth is back on mine. He kisses me with long, slow swipes of his tongue while he massages my clit with his thumb. Finally, he pushes up to take my legs in his hands. He spreads them wide and pushes me up slightly before plunging his cock into me with one solid thrust to the root.
Then my best friend, Andrew Collings, fucks the breath out of me. He makes me come twice before he presses his face into my neck and groans out his release.
And it’s beautiful to me.
CHAPTER 16
Dane
I silently count Andrew’s reps as he strains to complete the chest presses. He’s going for a triple personal best, and my hands hover over the bar to help him should his muscles fail. With a long grunt causing every vein to stand out on his forehead, he pushes the third one up and I help him rack the weight.
“Good job,” I praise as he sits up to straddle the bench, swiping the towel from the floor and wiping his face.
Andrew and I work out together three times a week at Caterva’s gym. Every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday, with Sunday being chest, shoulders, and core. Usually after, we’ll head up to our offices to put in a good day’s work, where Avril will already be chugging away. It’s how it’s always been… three hard-working people who don’t know what a forty-hour week looks like.