by Eva Ashwood
The windows are foggy, I realize.
Our panting breaths fogged them up.
Even if someone had walked by, they wouldn’t have been able to see inside. Although with the way the car was probably shaking, and the muffled cries and groans coming from inside, I don’t think they would’ve had a hard time guessing what we were doing.
“Holy shit,” Reese breathes. He sounds dazed. Shocked. I wonder if it’s because of what he just did, or because of who he did it with.
Did he expect this? Did he see it coming at all?
I certainly didn’t.
When I left my dorm tonight, all I had on my mind was a boring evening of doing laundry.
But as Reese’s cum drips out from the space where we’re still connected, it hits me all at once.
I just had sex with one of the Icons. The last of the Icons.
I’ve now fucked all three of them.
And I wish I could say I regret it.
20
Emma
Little patterns of early morning sunlight move slowly across the ceiling. I watch them stretch and grow as I lie in bed, too exhausted to get up yet. My mind is reeling, my heart is numb from feeling too much, and my entire body is sore.
Car sex is a lot more strenuous than it seems.
I try to muster up some regret or shame, but I can’t find either. I don’t know what the hell this means, but I’m not sorry I did what I did.
No matter how stupid it was.
“Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’ve had sex with all three of them,” I murmur to myself. Leslie is at her parents’ house again, so no one is around to hear me.
I had hoped that giving in to the pull toward Reese would snap the thread that seems to draw me to all three of the Icons—or at the very least, make it clear whether there was one of them I was drawn more strongly toward.
But it didn’t.
If anything, I’m afraid it only strengthened the bonds between us, and I should regret that.
After we clambered out of the car last night, putting ourselves back together and cleaning up as best we could, Reese asked if he could walk me to my dorm. I agreed, and we actually held hands as we walked. He carried my laundry under his other arm, holding it so effortlessly.
It was unnerving how… normal it all felt. As if we were a couple or something.
It was unnerving how much I liked it.
“Thanks for carrying my laundry,” I whispered as I opened the door.
“Thanks for… well, everything.” Reese replied. Then he leaned in to give me another gentle kiss, and I was so tempted to pull him into my room for round two, but something stopped me. Well, the memory of having Trent in this exact same bed a week ago was what stopped me.
Why? Am I still trying to protect these men somehow? Still trying to preserve their friendship?
I don’t know why it should matter to me. Maybe it’s just because once upon a time, they enfolded me into their group. I was a part of it, and when I was, I felt more cherished and safe than I ever had in my life.
But if I broadcast the fact that I’ve now slept with all of them, I have to believe it would tear them apart. I could see hints of it at our Team Six meeting, and afterward in my encounter with West. He looked murderous at the idea that Trent had slept with me. What will he do if—or when—he finds out about Reese? And what about if Reese and Trent find out about West’s and my encounter in high school?
It will either destroy them… or they’ll destroy me.
Either way, I can’t conceive of a scenario where they’d all be perfectly okay with it. Where they’d all be open to sharing. Is that even a thing?
My body flushes with heat at the idea, and my eyes fly wide, shocked at my response.
Fuck, why am I thinking about that now? About not having to choose between any of them? About being free to touch any one of them whenever I wanted? About having them all together? Three sets of hands on me, three hungry pairs of lips. Three cocks, all hard for me.
Embarrassment makes my cheeks burn, but it doesn’t stop my hand from finding its way beneath the covers. I thought I was worn out from last night, but a desperate ache builds in my pussy, and I touch myself, fingers flying over my clit as images cascade through my mind.
The pleasure crests in a violent wave, making me squeeze my eyes shut as I come.
And when I do, I call out three names.
Oh, hell.
I am so totally fucked.
I have to keep my guard up.
That’s the mantra I keep repeating to myself for the rest of the weekend.
Even though Reese, Trent, and West have each shown me moments of sweetness, they’ve also shown me cruelty. They seem as confused about what’s going on between us as I am, but I can’t let that soften the walls around my heart.
I still have to stick to my guns and protect myself.
So I pointedly ignore all three of the Icons for the entire weekend, not even checking my phone or email in case they messaged me. I stay off social media and basically hermit myself in my dorm, doing homework, cleaning, and planning for the week ahead.
It’s good to get caught up, to buckle down and focus on school, but I’m a little stir-crazy by the time Leslie returns on Sunday night, desperate for human interaction.
“Hey, girl!” she calls out, coming through the door and throwing her bag on her bed.
“Hey!” I return with equal enthusiasm.
She kicks her shoes off and throws them in the direction of her little closet. “Ugh. I’m so glad to be back.”
“Did you have a good time?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess so.” She grimaces. I don’t know much about her family—or much about her life outside of Clearwater at all, actually—but I get the impression she doesn’t get along with them all that well. They definitely don’t know that she’s helping finance her college experience by using her computer programming skills to do a little hacking on the side. “But I need a little peace and quiet.”
“Was pretty quiet around here,” I say guiltily, knowing that’s about as far from the truth as it’s possible to get.
“Yeah?” Leslie asks, then turns to me and cocks her head to the side. Her eyes narrow, and I feel like she’s looking right through me. “Did you have sex?”
Oh my God. I’m mortified. She really did look right through me. I could try to backtrack out of this, but instead, I finally decide it’s time to come clean with my roomie. If this shit is about to get even more complicated, I could use someone in my corner. And she always seems so knowledgeable about the world. She seems like she’s been around the block once or twice, like she has a permanent invite to all the coolest parties.
So hopefully this won’t make her think less of me.
“I think you better sit down,” I say, biting my lip.
“Oh, shit.” Her eyes widen, but she does as I suggest and sits on her bed. I sit on my bed too, turning to face her.
“Okay, so I’ve told you a little about Reese, West, and Trent.”
“Your friends from high school.” She nods, seeming to perk up with interest.
I’m not surprised. Any woman with eyes and a pulse would probably perk up at the mention of them. What does surprise me is the flash of sharp jealousy that cracks through my body like a whip.
Where the hell did that come from?
Jesus, don’t even go there, Emma. It’s bad enough you slept with all three of them. But they’re not yours. Never forget that.
“Right,” I say, taking a deep breath and trying to erase my thoughts from my face. “Well, let’s just say, a lot of shit has gone down between us.”
“What kind of shit?”
“Well, they bullied me a lot in high school; still do. Trent is convinced I sabotaged his mother and father’s marriage, and now our parents are dating, which is super fucking awkward. Anyway, back in high school I was attracted to… all three of them.”
“Before or after the bullying?” Leslie asks, leaning f
orward a little.
“Probably both,” I admit, a guilty expression on my face.
“Damn.”
“So, West and I had sex in high school, and I didn’t tell the other guys.”
She shrugs. “Probably a smart move.”
“And last week, well, I had sex with Trent.”
“Your dad’s girlfriend’s son?”
“Yes, I know, I know.” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “It’s awful and insane. It just—happened.”
Well, part of why it happened is because I opened the door dressed in a skimpy piece of lingerie and then jumped on him. But there was a reason for that, and Leslie doesn’t need to know about my blackmail material right now.
I’m trying to ease her into this fucked up situation gently.
“Well, that doesn’t seem so bad.” Leslie’s looking at me with something almost like jealousy herself.
“But wait, it gets worse.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, and this time, there’s a definite flash of jealousy in her eyes. “I feel like I know where this is going.”
“Yeah. I had sex with Reese. Last night. In his car.”
“Oh my god!” She flops back down on her bed, fanning herself. “This is intense!”
“I know.”
Fuck, when I say it all out loud like that, it does sound insane. No wonder it feels like everything between us is more tangled up than a mess of Christmas lights, a hopeless knot that we’ll never untangle.
Finally, my perky roommate rolls over, propping herself up on one elbow and grinning at me wolfishly. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Now I can’t fucking believe I haven’t had sex with Rory yet.”
“This isn’t some kind of competition.”
“I know, but damn girl. Whatever perfume you’re using, I want to bathe in it,” she teases. Her voice is a little dull, and I see the envy glinting in her eyes again.
It strikes me that every salacious story she told me about her and Rory was mostly about what she did to him—as if he were more of a lazy bystander than an active participant. Maybe their sex life isn’t actually all that good, which could explain why she’s looking at me like I’ve just won the lottery or found the Holy Grail or something.
But doesn’t she understand?
Yes, the sex was mind-blowing. World altering.
The scorching hot sex comes with enough baggage to fill a 747 though. Maybe she’s the lucky one, having somewhat boring sex with a somewhat boring guy. If everything exists in the middle, at least the highs and lows don’t batter you back and forth so hard.
Leslie’s still gazing at me with awe in her eyes, so I snort a laugh.
“I don’t wear perfume. But if I did, I’m pretty sure whatever I wear would be called scandal.” I scrub my hands over my face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I think it’s awesome that you just take what you want, no matter the consequences. That’s how I live. It’s the best way to make sure you don’t miss out.” Leslie beams at me, waggling her brows. Then she drops her voice, scooting a little closer to the edge of her bed. “Besides, you know sometimes people share, right? It’s, like, a thing.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. This is the real world. It’s not all roses and chocolates and monogamy. In fact, lots of people share. That’s what a harem is.”
I throw a pillow at her, blushing hard. “Oh my God, I cannot believe I’m having a conversation about harems. Besides, that’s between a guy and many girls, isn’t it?”
She shrugs, unconcerned by that little detail. “So reverse it. One girl, three guys.” A dreamy look comes into her eyes. “That’s what I want. Or four. Or five.”
“That’s crazy.”
“It’s not crazy!” she assures me. “It’s a real thing, Emma. Look it up.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Okay, that’s a lie. I’m definitely looking that up later.
My mind skips back to the images that flew through my head on Saturday morning as I made myself come. I didn’t know there was a name for it, but that’s exactly what I was picturing.
Is that something I would want?
Yes.
Truthfully, as much as it scares me, the idea thrills me too. I tortured myself for months in high school because I thought falling in love with my best friends meant I’d have to pick between them, to choose only one. It’s why I panicked so badly when each of them asked me out.
But maybe there’s another option?
Of course, that would only be an option if I was seriously considering taking things any further with the guys. And I’m not. I can’t.
We had our chance in high school, and maybe we would’ve found our way to a relationship eventually, but then Trent threw a pipe bomb into our group, blowing everything to little pieces.
When I arrive in anthropology class the next day, I’m totally expecting the worst. I’m certain all three of the Icons are going to revert back to their cruelest selves, and we’ll start this game all over again.
But when I sit at my desk, I look over at Reese to find him smiling warmly at me. Even Trent turns in his chair.
“Hey, Emma,” he says, and I don’t sense that he’s forcing himself to be nice.
“Hey,” I say back.
“Did you have a good weekend?” Reese asks, heat reflecting in his glittering green eyes.
“Yeah. Um, I did.” I bite my lip to keep from smiling. Memories of what Reese and I shared come flooding back into my body, as if every touch is imprinted on my skin like a brand.
When West walks into the classroom, he doesn’t say hello, but there’s something thoughtful and warm in his gray eyes as he nods at me.
What happened to all the tension? What happened to all the rage? It’s weirding me out how it seems to have just dissipated.
As class continues, my phone buzzes with a text, and I pull it out surreptitiously to peer at it.
TRENT: I’ve missed you.
I don’t know how to respond. It’s been over a week since we had sex. I’ve been avoiding him ever since, because I know I have to keep my guard up. But… he’s missed me? Is he lying? Is he fucking with me?
Before I can decide, another text comes through.
REESE: Been having dreams about you.
I seriously don’t know how to respond to any of this, so I look down, keeping my head buried in my notes.
West doesn’t text me, but he doesn’t need to. He’s staring at me from where he sits on the other side of Reese, and the burning feel of his gaze is communicating plenty. I remember the confrontation he and I had last week after the group project meeting, and I have to shift in my seat as arousal floods my body.
He didn’t need to defend me against Peter. I’m able to handle myself, and Peter wasn’t threatening me—he was just pushing too hard for something I couldn’t give. But there’s something comforting in knowing that no one in the world would be able to hurt me if West was on my side.
Still, I can’t stop myself from returning his gaze, and I’m almost shocked that Professor Sykes doesn’t kick us out of class for eye-fucking each other behind Reese’s back, our gazes catching every time Reese looks down. It’s been a long time since we had sex, and West looks so different now. I find myself imagining what it would be like to be with this version of him—the one whose face is all hard angles and dominating features, no more hint of boyish softness.
Finally, I yank my attention back to my notes, throwing myself into studying so I can block out everything else.
Come on, Emma. Be smart. Keep your head on straight, focus on school, and then get the fuck out of here.
I try to keep my walls up, I really do. But over the next few weeks, they begin to crumble brick by brick.
Every time I put a brick back up, a sweet gesture or shared moment tears another one down. I continue to get nice texts from the guys, we meet for our project twice a week, and everything runs smoothly. The semester is winding down, an
d I find that I’m doing really well preparing for finals and whatnot. Then, out of the blue, I get another text from Trent.
TRENT: Hey, you want to hang out with the guys tonight?
I fumble with my phone—and my thoughts. I know I should refuse, but all three of the Icons have been so genuinely sweet recently. It’s harder to hate them when they’re like this. It makes me miss the way things used to be.
ME: Yeah, that would be fun.
TRENT: Cool, come by our house at 8.
ME: Okay.
So, this is going to be a real test of what’s truly going down. As I prepare to head to the house the guys share off campus, I find myself checking the mirror several times to make sure I look okay. Why should I even care? The Icons have hurt me. They’ve seen me at my worst and my best. Still, I find that I actually do care.
“Hey.” Trent greets me at the door, pulling it open almost as soon as I knock. Like he’s been waiting for me.
“Hey.”
I try to ignore how good he looks in his long-sleeved tee and faded jeans that hug his muscular thighs, but my gaze traces over him appreciatively in spite of me.
“We ordered pizza,” Reese says, walking into the room holding a beer.
I jerk, yanking my attention away from Trent. I still have no idea how to handle the attraction I feel for all three of them, especially now that I’ve slept with all three of them.
But for now, I’ll just pretend it’s possible for us all to be friends. That’s a starting place anyway, right?
“Nice.” I say, grinning at Reese. “I’m starving.”
“Want a beer?” Trent asks, ushering me inside with a hand at my low back.
Heat radiates outward from his touch. I really don’t know if it’s a good idea to drink around these guys, but I reason that just one won’t hurt.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Although West is sitting silently with his beer, I actually think he smiles at me. Not a fake smile—a real one, and it softens his face in a way that makes my heart ache.
For the rest of the evening, all of us sit around in the living room, talking and laughing, and it’s… effortless. It’s like that first semester after I transferred to Amundsen High, when we were all so close.