Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  “What do you want it to be?” Jordan asked.

  Chloe wasn’t ready for that answer. She wasn’t sure which would be worse. Liz saying everything or nothing.

  Liz clenched her jaw. “I have a question. That night we met, Chloe, why were you down there alone, looking miserable? Anyone can see the two of you are incredible together and that you really don’t go anywhere without each other. What was different that night?”

  “Some things don’t show on the surface.” Jordan’s reply clenched like a fist around Chloe’s heart, squeezing until she thought she might collapse.

  How badly had she fucked things up with him? Up to this point, she took for granted that he went along with most of her requests. She was unhappy, and he pushed until he found out why. She’d been selfish every step of the way.

  “Let me lay out a hypothetical situation.” Liz held up her hand when Chloe tried to interrupt. “Let me finish. Say there’s this couple who’ve been together long enough they might as well have been high-school sweethearts. They have pretty charmed lives, all things considered. Each a Cinderella story in their own way. Except life is never happily ever after. She starts to wonder is this all there is? He realizes that’s a good question. What if there’s more than the two of them? Oh, she has an idea—they’ll experiment.”

  Chloe cringed at how close to the truth Liz was.

  “Experimenting was my idea.” Jordan’s tone was hard.

  “Swell.” Liz didn’t look as though it mattered. “From there, it’s an easy jump to finding someone unsuspecting, not giving the new girl the whole story, and stringing her along until she becomes part of the problem.”

  Chloe struggled to find her voice. “It’s not like that. Everyone says that, but I mean it.”

  “Of course not. You’re both good people, from what I’ve seen. All three of us went into this thinking you’d never see me again. That’s fair. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Maybe I’m the only one feeling it. I don’t even know what it is, but it’s not just walk away, and that confuses the hell out of me. I don’t think anyone set out to hurt anyone else, but I can’t—” Liz dragged in a shaky breath. “What is this?”

  Chloe closed the distance to stand in front of Liz. “Meeting you was both the best and worst timing ever”—Chloe wasn’t used to fumbling for words, but they felt stuttered and ungraceful as they spilled past her lips—“but everything we did, all that time spent together—it was all genuine. If we can’t define it yet, we’ll give it time.”

  “Look, I want to see you two together. You’re amazing people, both apart and with each other. But I don’t know if my sanity can take much more giving it time. My love’s not for lease, and if I don’t put distance between us now, I’m going to cross some sort of point of no return, where you two still get each other, and I just shatter.” Liz stepped around her, strode toward the door, and was gone before Chloe could think of a response.

  She looked up to find Jordan still on the couch, watching her. “She’s got a point.” He didn’t look angry or sympathetic or anything.

  Pride surged forward, wanting Chloe to bite back, for being ganged up on. Instinct screamed she should defend herself. Except— “I know.”

  “So what is it you want, Chloe? I’ll give you anything, but if you’re not interested in trying, I’m done.”

  Words from her worst nightmares. She sank into the nearest chair and pulled her legs up under her. “I’m looking for something I can’t define, and I take it out on you and now Liz.”

  “Is it her? Would you rather be chasing her down right now?”

  “No.” Unless I can have both. She swept the selfish thought to the back of her mind. “I’ll call her and talk through boundaries, or something. This is about you and me. I haven’t been fair to you. You’ve been shit on pretty much non-stop for the last few weeks, and I’m giving you one more thing to worry about by pouting that I’m unhappy because reasons.”

  “You can’t put that on hold because I’m having a bad day. But it’s not easy to deal with. I’m trying. I even swallowed my manliness and asked for advice, because I can’t figure out what you want.”

  “Asked who?” Chloe didn’t want to know, but she couldn’t help the question.

  “Liz.”

  Of course he did. “So the flower the other morning? The coffee?”

  “She told me I should try little things. Like what your characters do for each other.”

  “But you do so much for me already.” She’d really fucked this up and still didn’t understand why. Two weeks ago, the answer was easy. They kept talking, and never did. They were defined by their public actions and expectations, instead of being true to themselves. The fling with Liz scratched an itch, but it still wasn’t enough, and Chloe couldn’t define why. She knew one thing though—she couldn’t lose Jordan.

  “We do for each other. That’s who we are. Give and take and give some more.” He came to crouch in front of her, holding her gaze the entire time. “Do you want a ring? A house in Portland? A different person in our bed every weekend? The only thing I won’t do is keep playing these games. We say we’re fine now, when we’re not. We have these little conversations disguised as making things better, and I think I get what’s going on, but then the next day it all crumbles again.”

  He was right. She swallowed past the ache inside. “What do you want?” It wasn’t a malicious question. She’d never really asked since they started falling apart.

  “To create what I want, when I want.” He took her hand in his. “And you. But not like this. I get doubt, confusion, and uncertainty. I won’t let this deteriorate to where words don’t mean anything anymore. I won’t be the needle in a broken-record relationship, scratching and bouncing over the same skip repeatedly because there’s a rut we can’t get past. There are lesser things, of course, but those are the big ones.”

  She didn’t know if she wanted to sob or hide. “What if I don’t have answers tonight?”

  “Then say so. We’ll start there. I don’t expect to make things right in a single go, but we both have to be all in on this. You can’t just decide you know better and keep something from me.” He shifted his weight until he sat legs crossed, and tugged her hand.

  She slid from her seat and into his lap, settling her head against his chest when he wrapped his arms around her. “What do we do about your job offers?” she asked.

  “Don’t change the subject. That’s not fair.”

  “I’m not. Well, I am, but it’s because I need to put my thoughts into words. I’m not brushing things off, but I have to make sense of what’s going on my head. You’re right. Everything you said, I agree with. I don’t need the ring—I thought I did, for a long time, but I was looking for a symbol, when our relationship is full of them. I don’t need a new house or to fuck half the city. I need a little more time, and maybe a sounding board.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I’ll concede to that.”

  “So while that rattles in my skull, is DM the only company left on the table?”

  “DM and GlobTech, at last count. They may both be gone by morning.”

  She raised her head and kissed him softly. He pressed back, and relief snapped inside. She rested a palm on his face, memorizing the rough texture of stubble against her palm. Feasting on the familiar, comforting scent of his cologne. When they broke apart, it felt as if the two-ton weight that had taken up residency in her chest over the past few weeks evaporated and floated away. “Do you really want to go back to DM?”

  “It’s the ultimate fuck you to Rinslet.” He winked.

  “It’s the ultimate fuck you to someone who said they want the freedom to create. If GlobTech pulls out, we’ll find a different solution. Next round of contacts. Something.”

  He traced circles on her arm with his thumb. “We get pretty creative when we work together.”

  “Tentacles and nuns?”

  “School uniforms and furries.”

  “Are the furrie
s wearing the school uniforms?” Chloe asked.

  “Absolutely. White cotton panties, knee-high socks, plaid skirts.”

  Her smile felt better than it had in a while. “That’s all been done before.”

  “But we’ll do it better.”

  She settled more of her weight against him. A tiny pit still nagged her, but she had thinking to do. That would clear up as they worked things out.

  “This conversation doesn’t end with tonight.” He glided his palm down her arm and dropped it to her waist, before pushing up the hem of her shirt enough to caress bare skin.

  She arched her back and groaned when he sought out her breast and kneaded. “I agree. Ongoing conversation, and all that.” She twisted in his lap and felt him harden beneath her. Inspiration struck, and she stood, pulling him to his feet at the same time. At the question in his eyes, she cupped him through his jeans, tracing his hard length. “I’m all in.” She stroked his cock through denim, and he parted his lips and closed his eyes. “I don’t think I was before.” She turned them both, so his back was to the chair, and undid his pants. “But I am now. I promise.”

  She nudged his shoulder, and he dropped into the seat without resistance. He chuckled. “Pushy much?”

  “Sometimes.” She knelt in front of him and glided her hands up his thighs. This wasn’t only about make-up sex. The intimacy was reassuring. She wanted to show him—literally and symbolically—that she was here for him as much as he was for her. She freed him from his boxer briefs, eliciting a low groan when she grasped his warm shaft.

  Keeping her grip loose, she stroked at a slow pace, sometimes running her thumb over the swollen purple head.

  “Fuck, Chi.” He spoke through clenched teeth, voice jagged.

  When she trailed her tongue along his skin and licked away a drop of precum, he jerked in her hand. Each time he shifted closer or a grunt rumbled from his throat, arousal spilled through her. Getting him off turned her on in an entirely different but just as intense way as feeling him buried inside her. She took him in her mouth and slid down his length.

  He tugged her head back, forcing her gaze to his. “I want to watch you.” Command filled his words. “See the desire in your eyes, while you suck my cock. Watch you squirm with need when I come.”

  And she would. The tingles flooding her merged between her legs, begging for her to move her free hand lower and play with herself at the same time she pleasured him. That wasn’t what this was about, though.

  She tightened her grip and increased her pace, bobbing her head in time with his cues. Despite his order, as he drew closer, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Jesus, she loved that sight. Jordan, so engrossed in pleasure he lost himself. She found and kept a steady rhythm, his growls rolling over her skin and tightening in her nipples like ghost kisses.

  When she moved her other hand to his sac, he tensed, tightening his grip in her hair. Seconds later, he came, seed spilling in her mouth and hitting the back of her throat. She continued to suck and lick, slowing as he did, not pulling back until he stopped. She ran her tongue over his cock one last time, eliciting a final shudder, and stared back, wide-eyed and anything-but-innocent when he opened his eyes again.

  He offered her a hand as he stood and pulled her to her feet. He kissed her hard and hungry, driving his tongue into her mouth to explore. How did she overlook this amazing intensity? She whimpered when he dragged a thumb over her nipple, his touch rough even through her clothing. What could she have lost, because she expected the perfect life to be hiccup free?

  He moved his hand lower, flipping the button on her jeans and yanking down the zipper with a single harsh tug. She grabbed his wrist. “You don’t owe me.”

  “Yes, I do.” He furrowed his brow as if her words didn’t make sense. “Give and take and give some more.”

  “If you insist…” Any further retort faded into a long groan, when he slid his fingers between her legs and parted her folds. When he brushed her clit, a tremor traveled through her, making her legs wobble.

  “I love how worked up you get, sucking me off.” He kissed along the edge of her ear, whispery words hot against her skin. He pulled back enough to tease, tracing a path along her slit but not touching the aching button again. “Watching you writhe, because you’re so wet, while you run your tongue over my cock.”

  She couldn’t think enough to respond. Her head was light, swimming though tendrils of pleasure. She managed a nod.

  He knotted his fingers in her hair and crushed his lips to hers. Never breaking the kiss, he zeroed in on her core. Rubbing her clit without pause and devouring her mouth.

  Orgasm spilled through her, stealing her balance and her thoughts. His grip was the only thing holding her upright. He continued to stroke until she jerked from his touch. He moved his hand from her hair to her waist, steadying her, and locked his gaze on hers. “The conversation isn’t over.”

  “I know.” She couldn’t manage more as she struggled to catch her breath.

  He searched her face. “I’ll surrender almost everything for you, but not my sanity or sense of self.”

  “I’d never ask you to.” She almost had, without realizing it, but now that she recognized it, she could work around it. “What about Liz?” she asked. Crap. Talk about a mood killer.

  He didn’t look upset. Instead, something like regret or sadness flickered in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure she removed herself from the equation.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I think I owe her a serious apology.”

  “I can’t answer the what-about question. I’ll stand by you when you grovel, though.”

  Chloe let out a small laugh. “You phrased it that way on purpose.”

  “Maybe.” He kissed her nose.

  So many maybes. Maybe they’d be all right. Maybe Jordan would struggle to find work. Maybe her own job would get a lot more miserable. She was okay with the uncertainty, as long as they were both still trying. And as they checked each doubt off the list, the nagging inside would fade a little more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Liz leaned back in her chair and let the waiter take away her plate. She was at lunch with Mercy and Ian, catching up on work and using the excuse to hang out, since they hadn’t had much time for it the last couple of weeks. They waved the man away when he asked if they wanted dessert, and Ian handed over his credit card with the bill.

  “Anything else on the work front?” Mercy asked.

  Now or never. Liz summoned the one topic she’d stayed away from the entire meal. She’d almost convinced herself she could bring it up without letting her frustration show. There was no more time to swallow her befuddled emotions. “I have something else.”

  Mercy raised her brows.

  “I’m hoping you can have someone else work the Rinslet contract, now that it’s almost through Legal.”

  “Why?” Ian suddenly looked more interested in the conversation.

  She couldn’t use the too much work excuse, because five minutes earlier, she asked for more tasks. “I don’t think I’m the right contact for this partnership. You want someone more… hands on.”

  “You live less than five miles from their offices. No one on staff is more hands on than that.” Mercy studied her. “What aren’t you saying?”

  Everything. Liz tried to be subtle about glancing at Ian. Why hadn’t she waited to have this conversation until it was just her and Mercy? And how much could she say, without delving into the details of her sex life? “Remember what I told you about L.A.?” she asked Mercy.

  “The couple… Oh God. Liz. No.” Mercy pursed her lips.

  Ian looked between them. “I hate it when you two do this. Couple of what? Fill me in.”

  “Liz is talking about—”

  “Don’t.” Liz tried to convey pleading as she looked at Mercy.

  “Were they the Rinslet people?” Mercy asked. It sounded cold and clinical, but from where Mercy sat, it was exactly that.

  Liz hadn’t told her m
ore than that there was a fling. Once upon a time, she and Mercy would have shared that kind of information. Liz fiddled with her straw. “Might have been.”

  “I have to tell him.” Mercy sounded apologetic. “This impacts business.”

  “You don’t have to share details. I told you that in confidence. The only thing that matters here is I feel my working with Rinslet is a bad idea for the future of that relationship.” Liz tried to keep her tone even and professional, but a hint of petulance leaked in. She felt childish for getting emotionally involved in the first place, so it was appropriate.

  Ian signed the credit-card receipt and handed it back to the waiter. “Fill in the blanks for me, or I’ll guess. No one wants that.”

  “She hooked up with a couple in L.A. Apparently, the Rinslet poster kids.”

  Heat flooded Liz’s cheeks. So much for secrets between friends.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Ian slapped the table hard enough the silverware rattled. “You’d potentially destroy a vendor contact because you had a threesome?”

  At his tone, anger surged inside Liz. “I call bullshit. The two of you could have done a lot worse when you screwed around.”

  Mercy turned away, and Ian growled. “That’s different,” he said.

  “Really? How?” This wasn’t going to end well, but she needed to understand his logic.

  “We love each other.” He made it sound as if the answer was obvious.

  Liz’s irritation simmered, not only at the holes in his logic, but also at the implication she couldn’t possibly have the same thing here. The reminder she didn’t. “You didn’t know at the time. You were both being assholes, pretending you didn’t care about each other. You didn’t even tell anyone you were kind-of-pretend dating.”

  “But it all worked out.” Ian sounded as if that made it fine.

  “But what if it hadn’t? K.M. nearly dropped a multi-million-dollar contract because of it. This isn’t even in the same league. I’m just asking you to have someone else work with these guys.” She looked at Mercy. “Mel, back me up.”