by Dana Delamar
I dropped my head onto the table. “Makes me wonder if we can ever trust any woman again.”
“Oh hey now. Stop generalizing. Livia was as driven as you can get. Amber too, in her own way.”
“And Paige isn’t?” I sat up. “The way she sounded out there… You have to admit the similarities are rather striking.”
Riley shrugged. “Personally, I think she sounded more like an angry mom. Tough love and all that.” He gave my thigh a last squeeze before resting his elbows on the table and cupping my fists. “Paige is a warm, caring, and generous woman. In bed and out. Can you say that, could you ever say that, about Livia?”
I thought back to the early years of my relationship with my ex-wife. Even then, she’d been a selfish lover, wanting to be lavished with attention while returning only a fraction of it. At the time it hadn’t bothered me… much. She’d been sexy as hell, and I’d just wanted to sink my cock into her. But as I grew up, I’d matured, become more empathetic, and she hadn’t. In the end, our relationship had devolved into a toxic dynamic where I gave everything, and she took everything.
On the other hand, given her age, Paige was already the woman she was destined to be. And that was one who was independent and determined while still remaining down to earth and fun.
Her career wasn’t the problem, my perception of it was.
Returning to our table, Paige smiled at both of us. “I’m so happy to be here with the two of you. I want you to know that.”
“I am too.” I took Paige’s hand, and Riley placed his over mine.
Riley beamed at us. “It’s a dream come true.”
Although a ménage relationship had never been my dream like it had been Riley’s, I was beginning to see the appeal. These last few days had been some of the best of my life. But could such a complicated relationship stand the test of time, of society, and its judgments?
I was getting ahead of myself. First we had to see if what we had could endure through the end of the trip.
Chapter 11
RILEY
How had I gotten so lucky, finding my two perfect muses? I flipped through the photos I’d taken with my phone earlier that afternoon when I, Paige, Carter, and a few others from the group had opted to go on a river tour of historic Canterbury. A guide had rowed us up the river to The Grey Friars, a small Franciscan island. We were treated to gorgeous views of the King’s Bridge, as well as several medieval structures, like the Old Weavers House, the King’s Mill, and a Cromwellian iron forge.
Each successive location had made my fingers itch with the need to write. So while Paige and Carter had gone to afternoon tea at the hotel’s rooftop restaurant with the group, I had hightailed it back to the hotel.
Setting the phone aside, I returned to my manuscript and layered setting details into the scene I’d just written: a sexy romp where my characters—Riley, Paige, and Carter—yes, I would change their names later—engaged in a sinfully delightful escapade under the stars as their gondola drifted over the calm waters in a canal city oddly reminiscent of Canterbury. Literary license, what a wonderful tool to have in the writer’s toolkit.
I read over the scene one more time, correcting a few typos, making the dialogue a little snappier, and deepening the emotional connection between my characters. My entire body buzzed with the knowledge that what I’d written worked. Really worked. The writing had flowed from my fingertips like blood from a vein. It wasn’t yet as good as the Amber books. I’d need Nora’s input to reach that level. Still, it was a great first draft. And most importantly, I was writing again. Writing and enjoying it.
Coming on this trip had been a stellar idea. I’d have to buy Nora an appropriate thank-you gift. Not only had I found my muse, but I’d found it in the guise of Paige and Carter. The combination of my two lovers had been the magic missing ingredient. Paige had gotten my ideas percolating again, but it wasn’t until that first threesome at the hotel in Stratford-upon-Avon that I’d felt the surge of energy, the focus that made everything else fade away.
The zone, some called it. I loved being in the zone. Hours would fly by as my fingers pounded the letters off my keyboard. Afterward, I’d feel drained, yet immensely satisfied. My mind finally relieved of the task of giving birth to my characters through the telling of their journeys.
God, it was great to be a writer again.
Pushing back my chair, I stood and pressed my fists on either side of my spine at the base, then leaned back to stretch it out. These hotel chairs left something to be desired. Nothing a hot shower wouldn’t cure though.
I glanced at my watch. Paige and Carter would be back soon. I’d have to make it a quick one. Tossing off my clothes on my way to the bathroom, I couldn’t resist imagining what shenanigans we’d get up to that evening. I could hardly wait to get my hands on Paige’s creamy breasts and Carter’s rock hard glutes. My life was damn near perfect right now.
After turning on the water and adjusting the temperature, I hopped in and quickly took care of the business of washing my hair and body while I let the hot water soothe away the lingering tightness in my lower back. I thought I heard the room door close, but when I called out, there was no answer.
Once I was done, I stepped out of the narrow shower stall and dried myself off. Naked, I walked over to the wardrobe and searched for my distressed Balmain skinny jeans and favorite Fendi monster eyes T-shirt. Since we had no plans to go out this evening, I could leave Professor Templeton in the closet for a few more hours.
I tossed the clothes onto the bed, then scooped up the remote to switch on the TV so I could catch the news. That’s when I spotted Carter sitting at the desk, scrolling through something on my laptop.
A sick feeling of dread cramped my stomach. No one read my work before Nora. No one. “What the hell are you doing?”
Carter swung the chair around. His brow was furrowed so deeply a V shot up from the point between his eyes. “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing?” He jabbed a finger at the screen.
I stalked across the room and tried to slam the laptop shut. Hopefully, he hadn’t read more than a page or two. “Don’t read that. It’s just a draft.”
Carter stood and blocked my arm. “Too late.”
When he released my arm, I tried again to close the laptop, but once more he stopped me. “Tell me, Riley. Are you going to write about this too?” He picked me up and dropped me on the bed. “About how your incensed lover manhandled you?”
Carter jammed his fists on his hips and snarled, “What comes next? Does ‘Riley’ seduce his boyfriend? Does he make ‘Carter’ forget how ‘Riley’ is using him and ‘Paige’ for sex and for story ideas?”
I stared at Carter, my mouth hanging open. In awe. In astonishment. Certainly, in concern. But never in fear. “I-I found my muse,” I tried to explain.
“So you’ve said.”
I pushed myself up into a sitting position and rested my elbows on my knees as I thought about what to say. How to explain it better.
Carter gripped his hair so tightly I was sure he’d rip it out of his skull. “Jesus Christ, Rye.” He picked up my clothes and threw them into my lap. “At least have the decency to get dressed.”
“The decency? You’ve never minded my nakedness before.”
“A fuck won’t make this go away.”
“No?” I pouted, then shrugged into my T-shirt. I scooched over to the edge of the bed and slipped my legs into my jeans.
“Riley,” Carter growled.
“What? You said get dressed. I’m fucking getting dressed.”
Carter arched a brow. “Commando? Really? You know what that does to me.”
Yes, I did know. In fact it played into the plans Paige and I had made for tonight. Plans that now seemed rather moot. Damn. And I’d really been looking forward to our night together. It would have been the ideal reward for a productive writing session. Instead, I was getting irritated, my high ruined. “You’re a big boy. Deal with it.”
“Fine.�
� Carter walked over to the sliding glass door and leaned his forehead against it, his powerful arms braced on the frame. “Explain to me what’s going on. This thing between us, between you, me, and Paige, is it real, or is it something you instigated just so you could write another damn book?”
“Fuck, no. Of course not.” I sent Carter what I hoped was a sweet smile. “Truth is, you inspire me. Both of you.”
Carter turned around and leaned against the glass. His face was tight, angry, his eyes disappointed. He shook his head. “What are your characters’ names, huh? Riley, Carter, and Paige. Sound familiar?”
Oh God. How could I explain my writing process to Carter? “The names will be changed in the final version.”
“Uh-huh. Like they were changed in the Amber books.”
“That’s different. Amber wanted her name in the books.”
“Riley, for fuck’s sake.”
“All right. All right.” I opened my arms wide. “So I get a little inspiration from my real life. Why is that such a big deal to you?”
“Because”—Carter pushed off the door—“you can’t keep manipulating the people around you into situations that make for a good story.”
“Manipulating?” My face heated like I’d walked into a wall of fire. “I’ve never manipulated anyone in my life. I’m the one who was manipulated. I’m the one who was betrayed. I’m the one who’s fucking broke while Amber and Holden are living it up on my goddamn dime.”
Chest heaving, fists clenching and unclenching, I glared at Carter, whose eyes had widened with each successive word. “Well?” I prodded when the silence went on for too long. If we were going to fight it out, we’d damn well do it right. “Say something.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Carter rubbed his jaw as he approached, stopping right in front of me. “Are you a fiction writer or an autobiographer? Things didn’t go so well for you on a personal level last time. You sure you want to repeat history?”
“It’s the only way I know how to write.”
“Bullshit. Thing is, if you honestly care about me and Paige, if we’re all equals in this relationship as you claim to want, then you need to get your head out of your ass. There are three of us involved. This isn’t just about you.” Carter ended on a thunderous note.
My heart stuttered, seemed to stop, then started racing. Was Carter going to leave me over this?
“Carter.” I reached for his hand, but he pulled it away.
“I can’t—” Carter cut himself off. Teeth clenched, he crossed the room to the door.
Completely bewildered, I chased after him. “Where are you going?”
“To think. About me. About us. About what I want.” His face darkened. “You should do the same.”
“But you’ll be back, right?”
Carter blinked, then left the room.
He blinked? Oh fuck. Did that mean yes or no?
This can’t be happening.
I lurched over to a chair. Fuck. Fuck. I stamped my foot on the floor. I wouldn’t lose Carter, or Paige for that matter, over a book. Whatever I had to do to get them back, I would.
But what? What are you going to do, Kendrick?
All I knew was that I needed these two people in my life. Not just for the duration of the trip, and especially not for a book.
I had to make them understand, even though neither of them was ready to hear the truth.
CARTER
I marched down to the hotel bar. God, Riley could be infuriating. He didn’t seem to understand that not everyone wanted to live their lives on the front page. Did he even remember that I taught kids? That schools and parents were incredibly concerned about the character of the people interacting with their children for eight hours a day? I couldn’t be frolicking on the pages of an erotic novel, for Christ’s sake!
I entered the dark wood-paneled pub and took a seat at the bar. “What can I get you, mate?” the bartender asked.
“Whiskey, neat.”
The barman nodded and took down a bottle and poured out two fingers of rich brown liquid. He slid the glass over to me. I took a sip, the whiskey igniting a mild fire as it slid down my throat. How could I make Riley understand? While I was overjoyed that he was writing again, I couldn’t be a star in whatever story he was spinning for the public.
Someone nudged my elbow. “Hey there,” Paige said. “You look like you could use some company.”
“You’re probably right.”
Her brow crinkled adorably. “What’s wrong?”
“Not sure I should tell you.” I stared into my drink, but no answer was forthcoming.
“Well, I’m willing to listen. No matter what it is.” She placed a hand on my forearm, squeezing gently.
I sighed. I should tell her. She deserved to know. “Riley is writing again.”
She nodded. “I’m glad he’s worked through the writer’s block.”
“He spoke to you about it?”
“A few days after we met, I realized how keyed up he was. He seemed really unhappy. So I asked him about it.”
Wow. No wonder Riley liked her so much. I had been with him for three months, and I’d never thought to ask. Even worse, I hadn’t realized the stress Riley was under until right before he’d left.
He was right. Paige was nothing like Livia. Paige actually cared about people.
And that meant she’d probably be as upset as I was about what Riley had done. I took a deep breath. “Have you read any of what he’s written?”
She shook her head. “No. Why?”
“He’s writing about us, Paige. The three of us.”
She frowned a bit, then shrugged. “It’s fiction, right?”
“That’s just it. He used our names. He described things we’ve done, where we’ve done them. It reads more like a diary than a novel.”
Paige’s eyes went round. “He used our names?”
“In all fairness, he said he plans to change them.”
“I should hope so!”
I reached out and took her hand. “Am I out in left field here? I feel like this is Amber and Holden all over again.”
“That was real?”
“More or less. My understanding is he took most of it from what actually happened.”
“He’s really writing about us?”
I nodded. “Seems like it.”
Paige clapped a hand over her open mouth, then let it drop to her lap. “My God, he did say I was his muse...” She shook her head frantically. “I can’t have him writing about me. What will everyone say?”
“Riley seems to believe I’m blowing it out of proportion.”
“Doesn’t he realize he’ll wreck our lives? Especially yours. You could be fired.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t care so much if it was only me who’d be affected, but I help support my mom and my little brother.” I waited a moment for her to mull things over, then I said, “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Paige said, slowly shaking her head. “I need to think about this. This is turning out to be way more involved than I had planned.” She hugged her arms around herself, and I took off my jacket and placed it around her shoulders. She looked at me and touched my cheek. “I haven’t even had sex in the past five years, and now I find out I’m going to be in a book? Having sex with two men?”
I placed my hand over hers on my cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him do this to you. To us.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers.
And I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to kill Riley’s desire to write, but he couldn’t be allowed to ruin our lives either.
PAIGE
Riley might be more trouble than he was worth sometimes, but Carter was the kind of man you could lean on. I could really see myself falling for him. He’d known exactly how to calm me down, keep me from charging up to their room and giving Riley a piece of my mind about using us in his writing.
“Thanks for hanging out with me this evening.” Switching off the television, I smiled
up at Carter and sank deeper into his hold.
“Mmm...” He kissed my neck. “It was dinner and a movie with you or more fighting with Riley. The choice wasn’t a difficult one.”
“Wow,” I joked. “That certainly puts me in my place.”
“Oh shit.” Carter’s lips left my neck and when he sat up, his face was red. “Paige, I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant at all.”
I patted his thigh. “Relax, I’m teasing.”
He laced our fingers and kissed my knuckles. “I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I hadn’t run into you.” He shot me a sidelong glance. “Probably gotten drunk and regretted it in the morning.”
“I’m glad too.” I rested my head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart, so strong and bold, wrapped around me. “It gave us a chance to get to know each other better.”
“And I’ve loved every second of it.”
“But?”
He kissed the top of my head. “I should be going.”
“You could stay, you know.”
Releasing my fingers, he took my chin in his hand and pressed his lips to mine in a soft, sweet kiss that made my insides quake. I opened my mouth wider, deepening the kiss.
Much to my disappointment, after a few minutes Carter lessened the intensity of our embrace until he ended it with a last tug of his teeth on my bottom lip. “As soon as I walk out the door, I know I’m going to regret leaving.”
“Then stay.”
“You sure you’re ready for that?” he asked, searching my face. “Because if I stay, there’s no way I’ll be able to resist all this”—his hand moved up and down my side before settling over my breast. “I will have you.”
Could I have sex with Carter without feeling like a cheater if Riley wasn’t present? Sure Carter and I had kissed and, well, more at the masquerade ball on our own, but that hadn’t been behind Riley’s back while we were in the middle of a serious disagreement. I was upset with Riley, and quite frankly, I wasn’t certain I could forgive him if he tried to publish what he’d written about the three of us. Perhaps my intense desire for Carter tonight was really just a need for comfort.