by Laura Kaye
The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder for a long moment, just taking in the beauty of the breaking day. It was a moment filled with such peace and satisfaction, as if everything was right in the world. And for just that space of seconds, it was.
Seeing her here in her own apartment, Jonathan was suddenly glad they’d met Hartley outside of Blasphemy. Because it had allowed their connection to Hartley to develop beyond considerations of sex, and outside of the rules of BDSM. Instead, their bonds had been built on a stronger—and hopefully more lasting—foundation of friendship, well-suited companionship, and shared interests.
Shared interests that obviously included sex. And the kind of sex Jonathan and Cruz craved at that. The kind Hartley clearly needed, too.
“You should sleep for a while,” Jonathan said, brushing Hartley’s golden brown hair over her shoulder. “Don’t rush back to the workshop.”
“What about you guys? You didn’t get any more sleep than I did,” she said.
“Four years at the Academy and eight in the navy taught us how to operate without it when we need to,” Cruz said, giving her a wink. “Besides, we want to finish the sealant first thing this morning so that the Far ‘n Away will be seaworthy by the time you need to set sail to Annapolis on Thursday morning.”
“Then I’ll see you later?” she asked.
“Stop by A&R whenever, of course,” Jonathan said, regret slinking into his gut. “But Cruz and I are going to have to work at Blasphemy tonight and tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” she said, her dropping expression making it clear that she was doing the same calculations about their schedules that he’d already run. The ones that added up to them not being able to see each other again for more than a week.
Jonathan exchanged a look with Cruz, and then he gently turned Hartley so that her back was against the railing and she could see both of them. “Darlin’, we need you to know. We’re not going there to play with anyone else.”
“That’s right,” Cruz said. “But we’re part owners, and that means we need to take turns running things like the registration desk, security, the bar, and general monitoring of the floor.”
She looked back and forth between them. “I understand. I know you’ve been taking off time for me. And it’s only eight days until I’ll be back from the sailboat show and Sailing University.”
Eight days that felt like an eternity—and judging by her tone, Jonathan wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“Hartley, would you like to experience Blasphemy?” Cruz asked. “With us?”
Her grin was immediate, and it unleashed a raw masculine satisfaction in Jonathan’s gut. “I think…yeah, I would. But Scarlett mentioned that there’s a masquerade party coming up where people wear masks? I might like that for my first time there.”
Smiling, Jonathan nodded. “It would be the perfect time. The public spaces will be tamer because there are a lot of non-regulars and prospective members who attend. But if you’re feeling up to it, we can play in private, too.”
She bit her lip, and it made Jonathan want to kiss her so he could bite it himself. “That sounds perfect. Except, what do I wear?”
“Don’t you worry about a thing, baby. Go kick some ass in Annapolis. And we’ll have something here for you when you return.”
With that, they said their good-byes. Which involved fumbling kisses in her living room and at her door, until finally they had to go.
She leaned against the jamb, watching them walk away. And damn if the soft affection and drowsy satisfaction she wore on her pretty face didn’t make leaving that much harder.
“Hey Hartley,” Jonathan called from the top of the steps.
“Yeah?” She grinned.
“Remember that happiness we toasted to? The kind that made your father love being on the water?” Warm pressure filled Jonathan’s chest at the admission he was about to make.
Her grin widened. “Of course.”
“I think we might’ve found it.”
***
Forty-five minutes later, they were showered, changed, and on their way back to A&R to finish Hartley’s boat repair. And neither of them had brought up what had happened the night before. It was driving Cruz fucking crazy.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Pull over,” he said, indicating a stretch of empty parking lot on the outskirts of the Marine Center two blocks from their shop.
Jonathan gave him a look, but did as he asked. He killed the engine to boot. Silence was loud between them for a long moment.
And then Cruz asked, “Are we gonna fucking talk about this?” just as Jonathan said, “So, about last night…”
Another moment of silence, and then they both chuckled.
“Fuck,” Cruz said on a sigh.
“Yes, please?” Jonathan teased with a smirk.
“Shut up, asshole. Be serious.” Cruz nailed him with a stare. Because he couldn’t take teasing on this. Not yet. And not when his emotions were still so close to the skin after last night. And not when this mattered to him so much.
On a long sigh, Jonathan said, “Dude, what if I am being serious? What if I’m open? To anything, with you?”
“Since when?” Cruz bit out, defensiveness rushing through him as the ground shook beneath the foundation of everything he thought he’d known and everything he’d told himself he couldn’t have. What if I’m open to anything? The words were a dream come true and a curse, because it meant that anything would come down to what Cruz was willing to do—not Jonathan, after all.
“Since…I don’t know. A while. I mean, I’ve never been against the idea. Just, the more we’ve scened together, the more open I’ve become.”
“But I’ve never known you to go after another man. Not in all the years we’ve known each other,” Cruz said, reeling with each new word that spilled out of Jonathan’s sexy mouth. The mouth that had kissed him. The mouth that he’d kissed. Damnit.
Jonathan shrugged, and the casualness with which he could discuss this should’ve been comforting. But Cruz couldn’t take it that way, not when his head was spinning and his emotions were all over the place.
“What do I need another man for when you’ve always been there?” Jonathan said. As if it was as plain as saying that the grass was green.
“Jesus Christ,” Cruz said, feeling like a caged animal within the confines of Jonathan’s dark blue Jeep. He wasn’t sure whether to flee or wrestle Jonathan over the back seat to find out just how open he really was. He sure as hell knew which options his cock preferred. Because this conversation was making him rock hard.
“Is this about Hartley, too, or just about you and me?” Jonathan asked, his tone more serious now.
“Mostly about you and me,” Cruz said, gentling his own tone. “But, yeah, it’s about her, too. Depending on what it is you want for the three of us.”
“I want what the three of us had last night, in and out of bed,” Jonathan said without hesitation. “The openness, the emotion, the connection—all of it. No more holds barred.”
“But what if I can’t do that, Jay? What if I can’t do it for the long term?” Cruz asked, spilling part of his guts into the space between them.
Jonathan’s gaze was direct, observing, evaluating. “I’d never push you into anything you didn’t want, man.”
“I know that.”
“Then what are you really saying?”
Yes, what are you saying, Cruz?
He sighed. “You want to fuck me?”
One corner of Jonathan’s mouth drew into a slow, sexy smile. “I would fuck the shit out of you my friend. In a heartbeat. And we’d both love every second of it.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Cruz raked a hand through his hair and concentrated on not coming in his pants like a fourteen-year-old. “And if I wanted to fuck you? How would this even work between us, as Dominants?”
“It would work however we want it to work. Sometimes you in charge. Sometimes me. And for the record, don’t think I ha
ven’t thought about you fucking me before, Cruz. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ve jacked off to the idea once or twice.”
Holy shit. “Then goddamnit, Jay, why haven’t you ever said anything?” Cruz asked.
Jonathan arched an eyebrow and nailed him with a dark stare. “You know why. Hell, even right at this moment, I don’t know whether you’re bisexual and or you’re gay and you’ve been faking your enjoyment of women all this time. Because you’ve had a wall built up between us on this whole topic—until last night, until Hartley helped take it down. You always back away any time I even approach crossing the line with you. And that was okay, really. I accepted it and appreciated what we did share. But now that I’ve seen over to the other side, I don’t want that wall going back up.”
Cruz mulled all of that, unable to refute a single word. Because it was true. But there was something he could say. “I’m bi. I’ve never faked a thing with a woman. I’ve just hid that I felt something more for you.”
“Then I guess all of that’s another thing we have in common,” Jonathan said on a sigh. “Aren’t we two assholes?”
Managing a little smile, Cruz nodded. “Apparently.”
“So, does that mean you’re not going to sit here and tell me you’re not interested?”
“In you?”
“In me. In Hartley. The three of us together.”
“Fuck, you know I’m interested.” But what if you love her more? But what if you get tired of a threesome after I’ve fallen in love with you both. But what if it hurts our friendship? But I’m also scared as shit.
“But?”
Cruz shook his head, his brain and his ego not willing to let those words fly.
“You’re worried about your family,” Jonathan offered.
Looking out the window at the harbor, Cruz nodded. “Yeah, sure. It’s either come out and lose them or hide and deny part of myself.”
Jonathan’s hand fell on Cruz’s forearm, tugging his gaze back into the car. Back to the man trying to talk him into believing in a forever for which he never once dared to hope. “Buddy, you’re already doing the latter. I know it’s not exactly the same. But do they know you’re a Dominant? Or that you’re the part-owner of a BDSM club? Or that you have sex with multiple partners at the same time?”
The truth of that observation sank in. Sank in deep. So, yeah, hiding his bisexuality from his family ran along some of the same lines. “What’s different is that, when we see them at the holidays, I’ll have to deny who you and Hartley really are to me. And that’ll fucking suck.”
“It will,” Jonathan said. “I won’t deny that. But we can figure all of that out. And what we can’t figure out, we’ll fumble our way through. Either way, you’ll have two people at your back ready to make it better.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Cruz said.
“Only because I want it so much,” Jonathan said, the sincerity behind his words shining through in his gaze.
Jesus. Cruz wanted it, too. But his gut told him somehow, someone was going to end up hurt. And he didn’t want that for any of them. Not for himself, not for the man he’d long loved, and not for the woman stirring new feelings in his chest, either.
***
It was the early morning of the second day of the sailboat show when Hartley found it. A little white box tied with red ribbon tucked into one of the outside zipper compartments of her suitcase. How in the world had that gotten there?
Standing in her hotel room wearing only a robe and a towel upon her wet head, she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. And found three things inside. A note. A tube of lubricant. And a short, squat toy.
Hartley didn’t have to be told where that toy went, either. And heat lanced through her as she unfolded the paper and found a man’s scrawling handwriting.
Dear Hartley,
We’re thinking of you every day, and we want you thinking of us, too. Even more than that, we want you ready for us when you return. Ready for us in every way. So wear this at least an hour a day. And no coming. This time, you don’t have permission.
See ya later, baby –
Cruz & Jonathan
“Argh!” Hartley cried, falling back on her bed, a huge smile on her face. Along with celebrating the relaunch of her boat yesterday and the bittersweet kisses they’d shared before she got underway, it was one more proof that they were thinking of her. After all they’d shared, she really appreciated hearing it as often as they wanted to say it. Because she was way out on a limb with these men and this relationship, something how much she missed them further confirmed. She was in this deep. Already.
Now this…this evil torment! And it was a torment when she had to go the whole day thinking about the butt plug waiting for her in her room. She’d had anal sex before with one boyfriend, but the guy hadn’t been particularly adept at it. Hartley suspected that wasn’t not going to be a problem with Jonathan and Cruz. She wasn’t sure if that aroused her or scared her. Maybe a little of both.
Because they were clearly thinking of taking her every way they could. And maybe wanting to take her at the same time. Both of them. Inside her. Filling her until all she knew was them.
Jesus. It was either the hottest October afternoon known to womankind or she was having a lust-induced hot flash.
Finally, the second day of the show ended. Hartley closed up the Far ‘n Away and bee-lined back to her room. And then she got completely undressed, opened the box, and uncapped the lube.
We want you ready for us…
She shivered, the promise of those words turning her on as much as if the guys had been here with her.
Hartley started with lube on her finger that she applied to her rear hole. First slicking the outside, and then working some in, a little at a time. Until she’d been able to insert the first knuckle, and then the second. After a while, she got more lube and tried again, this time with two fingers. The stretching sensation burned, but it also felt…decadently good. Dirty and naughty and even kinda slutty. And that was hot.
Her arousal made her feel ready to try the plug, which she slicked with its own coating of lube. By no means was she an expert in anal plugs, but she guessed that this was relatively modest in size. Lord knew it was no match for Cruz Ramos, that was for damn sure. The comparison made her shiver. Because, holy shit. That man’s cock was could have monuments built to it.
Laying back propped on one elbow, her knees drawn up, Hartley lined the plug up with the tight muscle of her rear hole. She gently pushed. And then pushed a little harder. Until finally, the muscle started to give way and the hard silicone eased inside her. It was a slow process to work the toy fully in. Suddenly, the widest part slipped inside, pulling a hiss from her throat at the intensity of the stretch.
And then it was done.
“Holy crap,” she whispered to the empty room.
It was a different kind of fullness from having a cock or a toy in her pussy, but it was good in its own way. She got up to wash her hands and gasped. Because walking with a plug in her ass was its own riot of sensation. An unavoidable, shifting pressure. One that stimulated things inside her whether she wanted to be stimulated or not.
Clearly, the men she was falling for were pure evil. Or evil genius. Maybe both.
She cleaned up and donned a robe, and then she sprawled on her stomach and reached for her cell.
Knowing they were at Blasphemy, she entered both of their names into one message chain so she could text them both. Received your gift. Making use of it right now. In related news: it’s super HOT down here.
Grinning, she hit Send.
And then she placed an order for room service. Just as she got off the hotel phone, her cell vibrated against the bed. She scooped it up and found a text from Jonathan.
Well, damn, now it’s hot up here, too. Hope our gift fits just right.
Hartley’s jaw dropped at his cheek, so she sent some cheek right back. Not as good as your personal gifts will fit, but I’m making do.
/> The three little dots indicating composition popped up immediately, making Hartley grin again in anticipation. We’ll give you ALL our gifts soon. That’s a promise.
Well, now you’re just being mean because soon is still days from now, she texted.
The dots popped up. Disappeared. Popped up again. Told you I was going to get my revenge, he wrote back.
Laughing despite herself, Hartley’s fingers flew. I want my certificate back.
Never, Jonathan replied.
Room service had just delivered when her phone vibrated again.
Cruz, this time. Hi, sweet girl. What a cruel image you’ve put into my head. He ended his message with a winky face.
Sorrynotsorry? I mean, that’s what happens when you make me put a toy in my ass and tell me I can’t come. She chose the sticking-a-tongue-out emoji to send back.
Aw, baby. I promise we’ll make it up to you. Sorrynotsorry.
“Aaah!” she cried out, grinning like a loon in the privacy of her hotel room. Because her men were thoughtful and sexy and funny. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone, even though in that moment, she was.
Jonathan and Cruz had done that for her, and in the process, they were working their way into her heart. It was perhaps the craziest, stupidest, riskiest thing she’d ever done to that particular organ, but more and more she resolved to take a leap—and to hope they caught her. Both of them.
Because she wasn’t sure she’d ever be this brave again if it didn’t work out.
Chapter Ten
Thursday night was the first night they’d been able to see each other after Hartley’s work trips, which explained why they lay in a sweaty, sated pile in her bed. Smiling at the mess of covers they’d flung to the floor, Hartley wondered if she could ever bring herself to wash their smell from these sheets.
While she’d been gone, they’d texted constantly and had more than a few late-night phone calls that had allowed her to get to know them even better. Like, that Cruz had a million cousins but no brothers or sisters, and that he’d been to every continent and had some of the most amazing travel stories she’d ever heard, and that he could solve a Rubik’s Cube in under five minutes—a thing which had earned him some fame among his shipmates, and not a little razzing, when they’d been in the navy.