One Ring

by Tymber Dalton

  “True.”

  “Then why do you look so upset?”

  Carl glanced down toward the hall before looking up at him and lowering his voice. “I want to go punch her ex. Right in the goddamned nose. For making her cry, if nothing else.”

  “You can’t go do that. Not without me.”

  “No, we can go do that. We shouldn’t.”

  “All right, Tony,” Don joked, turning to head to bed. “We shouldn’t go punch her ex in the snoot, but I agree it sounds like a damned good idea. Except Tilly and Marcia would probably kill us if we didn’t let them come with.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was a Saturday, two days before her final divorce hearing.

  Mel had been living with the guys for four months, and she was ready to have the divorce over with. Mike hadn’t fought it, fortunately.

  Don and Carl played exclusively with her and had ever since she moved in.

  That didn’t hurt her feelings in the least. She still felt a little guilty that the guys wouldn’t let her reciprocate with them in terms of orgasms, but they assured her that’s the way they wanted it for now.

  They also reassured her that if, once her divorce was final, she wanted more, they would be there, patiently waiting for her to instigate that discussion.

  But both men were adamant that they wanted her to be able to make whatever decision she did with a clear mind and a clear conscience.

  Don and Carl were out in the backyard doing yard work. She’d been dealing with a couple of work emergencies via her laptop when the doorbell rang.

  She was shocked to find Mike standing there when she answered the door.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Can I come in and talk to you?”

  She’d almost hoped, early on, that Mike would see the divorce papers, panic, and swear to change. Then follow up on the promises with real change.

  She’d known that was unrealistic and borderline crazy thinking, but she’d hoped he’d think she was worth trying to fight for.

  The longer he’d gone without a personal response, the more she realized the sad reality, that he really, honestly didn’t give a shit. That he’d hired an attorney and didn’t fight the divorce only confirmed it.

  And since she’d moved out, he hadn’t even bothered to call her, to check up on her. He’d never even replied to the texts she’d sent about the utility payments being due, so she stopped sending them.

  “Talk to me why? About what?”

  He held up a sheaf of papers. “About all of this, Amy. Come on, are you seriously going to go through with this nonsense? I’ve put up with it about as long as anyone should reasonably be expected to.”

  She blinked, staring at him, positive this had to be a practical joke, and a really bad one. So much so she had to fight not to take a step out and look for hidden cameras.

  She’d forgotten how much she hated it when he called her Amy.

  “Uh, what?” she asked when she realized he was standing there, awaiting a response.

  He shook the papers at her. “I had to waste money getting an attorney, okay, Amy? So did you. Let’s stop this before we fuck up our finances and credit ratings. Just come home, and I’ll forget all about this. Now listen to me. You’ve had several months to get whatever this is out of your system, and—”

  “Mel, you okay?”

  She jumped at the sound of Don’s voice.

  Correction, it was Don and Carl standing there behind her, both of them shirtless and sweaty and looking, especially compared to Mike…

  Yum!

  “Um, guys, this is Mike.”

  “Your ex?” Carl asked.

  “I’m Amy’s husband!” he said, sounding uncharacteristically shrill. Ed’s early warnings to her about Mike being in denial returned to mind.

  Don snorted. “Dude, not for much longer.”

  “Is this what you really want?” Mike screeched waving the papers at her.

  Hell, he hadn’t shown this much emotion over the last several games the Bucs had lost, and those usually got him pretty riled up.

  “Don and Carl are my roommates,” she said. “I don’t understand why you care. You didn’t give a shit about me when I was with you and begging you to spend time with me. Hell, I couldn’t get you to have sex with me to save my life! You haven’t even bothered to text me to see if I’m okay. You handled everything through your attorney. Why even pretend you care?”

  His eyes widened. “So you decided to leave me so you could just slut arou—”

  “Hey! Whoa!” both men said, stepping forward and protectively pulling her behind them, crowding in front of Mike and forcing him back a step.

  Don leaned in and jabbed a finger in Mike’s face. “She’s our friend, asshole. She hasn’t even dated anyone, okay?”

  Technically the truth, although she suspected getting into the intricacies of orgasm play not technically being sex probably wouldn’t go over so well with Mike.

  Carl also leaned in. “And you need to fucking treat her with respect. Then again, had you been doing that, you wouldn’t be standing here now, would you?”

  Mike looked at the two men, then caught her gaze where she was standing behind Don and Carl. “That’s it, Amy,” he said. “You want a fucking divorce? You’ve got one. Just wait until I tell everyone you were reading those trashy books, and now you’re living with not just one guy, but two!”

  He turned and stormed down the walk toward where his car was parked on the street.

  Don watched him go. “So that’s the tool you left, huh?”

  “Real charmer,” Carl drawled. “Can’t imagine why you weren’t blissfully happy.”

  “Tell me about it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and watched Mike peel out. “Guess I can kiss my friends and family good-bye once he finishes with them.”

  “Can I ask you a dumb question?” Carl said.

  “Yeah.”

  He turned to her. “Who the hell is Amy?”

  * * * *

  After a very brief and terse conversation with her mom—who’d already heard from Mike several weeks ago, Mel hung up and fought the urge to throw her cell phone into the pool.

  “She thinks I’m dumb to divorce Mike,” she said. “He’s already painted himself to be a victim.” She had been working up to the truth with her parents. She’d told them she was separating from him and likely would divorce him, but hadn’t told them when the final hearing was.

  “Expect him to double-down when he gets hold of her again,” Don warned.

  “You might want to call Ed and give him a head’s-up,” Carl suggested. “He might say let it go, or he might have advice.”

  “I hate to bug him on the weekend.”

  “It’s what you’re paying for,” Don said.

  “True.” She called him, but he wasn’t worried.

  “Remember how I mentioned at our first consult that it sounded like he was in denial?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s not in denial anymore, obviously. This was the smack in the face that most people usually feel when they are actually served divorce papers.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I mean, moving out and changing bank accounts and hiring attorneys and all that wasn’t enough?”

  “Some people are clueless. I’ve seen worse, believe me. Like you said, he was very apathetic. He had likely convinced himself this wasn’t a permanent thing. That he was going to talk to you, you were going to return home, and life would slide back into its normal rut. You just forcibly jacked him out of his rut by dumping a load of killer bees down his pants.”

  “Don’t give me ideas,” she muttered.

  “That was a metaphor, not a suggestion.”

  “I like killer bees better as a suggestion.”

  “Try to relax. Nothing, legally, has changed. Call anyone you think he might contact and get ahead of it, if you feel you have to. Tell people he’s pissed off that you left him after years of him neglecting you
, and now that he realizes it’s going to cost him, he’s pissed off and spreading lies about you.”

  “Technically, most of it isn’t lies. It’s just the context looks horrible.”

  “They won’t know that. But if you do want to try to save those friendships, call them. Now. Because he’ll likely be busy going through his contact list.”

  “Thanks.” She hung up.

  “Killer bees?” Don asked. “Do I even want to know?”

  She related the conversation to them.

  “I like killer bees better as a suggestion, too,” Carl said.

  * * * *

  So did Tilly, who went ballistic that night at the club when Mel told her friend about it.

  “That fucker!” Tilly said. “Let’s go pay that little turdbucket a visit right now. I’m in a mood.” She started to rise.

  “You’re always in a mood, my vicious little Redbird,” her husband, Landry, said after placing a staying hand on her shoulder. “And no one is paying anyone a visit. Ed’s right. The man was finally forced to deal with reality. It sounds like he’s skated through most of his adult life without having to do that. This has no bearing on the outcome of their divorce case.”

  Tilly stuck her tongue out at Landry. “You’re no fun,” she said. “Killer bees is a lovely sadistic way to extract a little payback.”

  “Sticks and stones,” Landry reminded her. “Anyone who is lazy enough to believe his lies about Mel without asking her about them isn’t someone worth the dirt on her shoes.”

  Tilly huffed. “Damn Dom logic, anyway.”

  It took Don and Carl coaxing Mel into a bondage scene to get her mind off her problems. They tied an intricate rope harness around her on some MMA mats on the floor, then used a Hitachi on her while lightly caning her to empty her head and fill her with orgasms.

  By the time they were all ready to leave around midnight, Mel could barely remember her soon-to-be ex’s name, much less their earlier exchange.

  Yes, she felt a little guilty that she got to have all the fun while Carl and Don didn’t get a damn thing out of it, but they assured her that they were perfectly content with the arrangement for now.

  At least she slept well that night.

  And, the next night, after dinner, she talked them into a little over-the-knee, barehanded spanking on the couch before they sent her to bed.

  She’d admit to needing her vibrator to finally get to sleep after that, though. Too much spinning through her head about tomorrow’s hearing for her to relax.

  But the orgasm tipped her over the edge and finally allowed her to sleep.

  The next morning, the men were getting ready to go to work. “One of us can call in sick if you need us to go with you,” Don assured her. “Seriously.”

  “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll have Ed. What am I paying him for if he’s not my attack dog?”

  “True,” Carl said. “He can be pretty vicious, or so I’ve heard. Don’t let his harmless looks fool you.”

  She’d dressed conservatively, in black slacks, a button-up blouse, a black blazer, and flats.

  Hell, she looked like she was going to a funeral.

  Then again, in a way that was exactly what this was, wasn’t it? The death of a marriage, being formalized?

  Maybe, just maybe, had Mike pitched that level of hissy fit early on when she first left, she might have considered going back to him.

  But not now, in the final moments when she was almost free of him and had a damn good idea of what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

  After hugging the men good-bye, she got in her car and headed for Ed’s office.

  * * * *

  Don turned to Carl. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That killer bees were a damn good idea, Brain?” Carl asked.

  “No, Pinky. That maybe after she gets through today, we might finally be able to have a chance with her.”

  Personally, Don had also wanted to wait for her divorce to go through, even before Carl had said it that day they showed her the house. He’d made the mistake—once—of getting involved with a woman in the middle of a divorce.

  Not only had she ended up going back to her husband, he’d almost gotten beaten up for it.

  He liked being able to look someone in the eye and honestly tell them no, he had not had sex with their wife. And Carl had agreed with him.

  But Mike the tool proved Mel hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d talked about him and his apathy.

  That he waited until the weekend before their final hearing to finally approach her showed how little he truly cared for anything or anyone but himself.

  Maybe they could have been sleeping with her all this time, but Don wouldn’t regret waiting.

  It would make it that much better if and when they did it.

  Chapter Ten

  Mel sat in her car after the hearing and stared at the papers. It was late Monday afternoon, and the hearing, which had gotten bumped until the afternoon, was over.

  For all intents and purposes, she was single again.

  All they needed was the final order, which the judge would be signing. She’d have it in a week or less.

  The house would be sold, unless Mike could buy out her share of the equity. That would be handled through Ed’s office.

  She took a deep breath and considered things. She thought she’d at least cry. Something.

  Nothing.

  She went home and found the men had already returned. Which was odd, because usually they worked later than this. She grabbed a beer from the kitchen on her way through but didn’t see the guys.

  Instead, she headed for her room and dumped her stuff on the bed. In the several months she’d lived with Don and Carl, not only had she felt more at home, more loved, more cared about than she had in the last several years with Mike, but she’d felt at peace.

  They’d never made her feel like she belonged anywhere but right there.

  They were more than friends.

  And exactly when they’d started being that in her heart, she didn’t know, but she realized she really wanted to get closer to them.

  A lot closer.

  Neither man had dated anyone else since she’d moved in.

  Maybe her attraction to them wasn’t as one-sided as she’d first thought.

  She grabbed a quick shower, including shaving her lady parts. Ever since the first night they’d played together, she always kept herself shaved if she thought she might play with them.

  Just in case.

  She hoped it might soon be for more than just orgasm play.

  Mel pulled on a flirty little sundress she’d bought a couple of weeks ago and hadn’t worn yet. She thought about putting on panties under it and then thought, fuck it. If she accidentally flashed the guys, who cared?

  Maybe it’d interest them.

  Or dump her ego even deeper into the shitter, but she’d risk it.

  She headed out to the kitchen to get herself another beer. She was working on a good buzz, the first one she’d had…

  Okay, her first buzz since college. Hell, there were a lot of things she hadn’t done since she and Mike had gotten married.

  Having carefree fun was at the top of that unfortunate list.

  She opened the sliding glass doors out to the lanai and left them open, letting the perfectly balmy breeze coast in from outside. It was one of those rare Florida days where the temperature was perfect, the humidity was low, and the breeze was light.

  They had maybe five perfect days a year like this. She wanted to enjoy it.

  Mike had always groused if she left the doors and windows open. His allergies, the dust, the pollen. Why bother living inside if they’d just open the windows and doors? Might as well live in a tent.

  She took a long pull off the bottle.

  Fuck.

  Staring down into the serene surface of the pool, she realized how much of herself she’d given up to Mike.

  Fifteen years she’d never get back. S
ure, she’d thought they were really good years at the time, but here she was now, starting over, renting a room in a house with two guys, and she wasn’t even getting laid.

  “Goddammit!” she muttered.

  “Sorry?”

  She jumped, spinning around. She hadn’t seen Carl hunkered down in the hot tub. “Oh, sorry. That wasn’t directed at you.” She walked over and perched on the edge, now feeling a little self-conscious that she didn’t have panties on.

  “Thinking about Mike?”

  Why deny it? “Yeah.”

  “Did everything go okay today?”

  She sighed. “It was easy. Fifteen years…” She snapped her fingers. “Gone.”

  “Been there, done that. Want to borrow my T-shirt?”

  She smiled. Carl could always make her smile. With his green eyes and dark-blond, nearly brown hair, he was handsome. She liked that he actually got out and did things other than housework and chores. He worked on his car.

  He actually drove places in his car. Including several times the three of them had gone to local car shows in it.

  They had fun together.

  They did things that didn’t involve grocery shopping, work, or errands to buy stuff for the house.

  They lived.

  “Depends on how long your T-shirt is. Can I wear it like a dress?” She met his gaze as she took another swallow of beer.

  She hoped she looked seductive. She was so damn out of practice it was hard to tell.

  He leaned over sideways, toward her, head craning to look at her. “I don’t know. You going to go commando when you wear it?”

  Heat filled her face.

  When she started to brush down the hem of her sundress, he laughed. “I’m teasing you, sweetie.”

  That only deepened her blush.

  He noticed.

  “Hey…” The eyebrow arched as he moved closer. “Is someone feeling a little bit of a breeze downstairs?”