by C. M. Albert
“Hey, man,” I said, grabbing Ryan’s attention.
He turned, his eyes trailing over my outfit. He lifted his glass of red wine. “Can I get you one?”
“Please,” I said gratefully.
I had to laugh. Ryan wasn’t dressed much differently than I was. He had on a pair of dark blue dress shorts and a white dress shirt, also opened low at the collar. His sleeves were rolled up but sat lower on his forearms. Unlike me, he had dark brown hair at the opening of his shirt, and his short, well-groomed beard game was strong.
But we couldn’t be more different, Ryan and me. At least if I had to see a dude naked, it was this friend. I’d seen him in his swim trunks at the Hole, and the guy was almost as ripped as I was. For someone with a desk job, it was impressive.
“Cheers,” he said, his eyebrows raised.
“Cheers,” I offered back. I took a large sip of wine, not knowing where to look or what to do. “Well, this is awkward.”
He laughed. “We’ll be fine. We need to be, for Liv.”
I nodded. “You sure she’s okay with this? Knows what she’s getting herself into?”
“I don’t think any of us really know what we’re getting ourselves into,” he answered honestly.
“True,” I said, watching as he continued setting the table, moving some flowers to the center. Crap! I’d left the bouquet I bought for Olivia in my room. I glanced at Ryan’s delicate peonies and thought of my big, gauche sunflowers. Guess they were staying where they were.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he said. “Transparency, right?”
I nodded. “You guys aren’t really swingers, are you? I mean, this is truly the one and only time you’ve ever done something like this?”
Ryan burst out laughing, easing the tension in the air. “Don’t be an ass, Kerrington. You know we’re not swingers. Jeez.”
Before I could banter back with something clever, the backdoor swung open. We both turned, and my heart took a beating as I dragged my eyes over Olivia.
Hugging her body was a long white sundress with flowers resembling her peonies, sage green petals nestling them. The skirt was slit up the front, revealing a pair of caramel-colored cowboy boots I wasn’t expecting. The dress was opened low in a V at the neckline, and I could see a sheer, white lacy bra beneath when she moved just the right way—as she did when she sauntered across the patio to us.
Her large silver necklace looked Native American, holding a few small beads that matched the colors of the flowers on her dress. Something about the way the carved medallion rested on the flat plain just above her breasts stirred something inside me. She accepted the goblet of wine Ryan handed to her and leaned forward, kissing him lightly.
“Liv,” I said when she lifted the blood red wine to her full, nude lips, “you look stunning.”
“Thank you,” she replied, her cheeks pinking from the compliment.
She had to know how gorgeous she was. A woman didn’t come out like that, her long, blond hair tousled like already sexed-up bedhead, ready to greet two lovers, without knowing she was the shit.
The three of us stood there awkwardly for a moment, until Liv finally broke the silence. “Let’s just get it out in the open, shall we? Because I feel like Ryan’s talked to you, and he’s talked to me, too. But you and I haven’t had a chance to talk about any of this—to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“We’re on the same page,” I answered gruffly.
Warm laughter parted her lips, and I wanted nothing more than to possess them. “So, you’re truly okay with this?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“All righty, then.” She nodded, biting those soft, pillowy lips of hers. She looked toward Ryan. “I don’t know how to do this. This was your idea. Should we have some appetizers first, or jump straight to dessert?”
Ryan stepped toward her, his hand snaking up to her hair and holding her head captive. Olivia’s eyes were full and bright, like the shiniest, wildest moon the northern hemisphere had ever seen. The heat that radiated from her as she looked at her husband’s mouth was the biggest turn-on I ever could’ve imagined. I never thought of myself as someone who’d get off on watching someone else be intimate; but suddenly, I knew everything I’d assumed about this evening would be shattered—expectations exploding into a million little pieces and rearranging themselves into something far bigger than any one of us alone could’ve seen coming.
Something I may never recover from.
I watched as Liv’s chest rose when Ryan leaned forward, whispering something in his wife’s ear. She glanced over at me, biting her lower lip. Something silent was communicated between us in that moment, and it terrified me.
Because that single, heart-stopping look told me this was more than just Ryan talking Liv into going along with some crazy scheme. The fierce desire aimed straight at me was enough to confirm I wouldn’t be recovering anytime soon once I got a taste of Olivia Wells. She wanted this. She wanted me.
The moons in her eyes disappeared as she closed her lids, her body purring as Ryan kissed along her long, graceful neck. He glanced up at me, our eyes meeting. He was marking his territory before we started. I nodded, letting him know I understood and wouldn’t forget who her heart belonged to. I also knew, though—before I ever touched her—that my heart would never be able to let go of Olivia once I gave myself to her.
When she opened her eyes again, they were half full of lust and aimed straight at me. I knew one thing for certain in that moment. Ryan may be her husband and own her heart, but before the night was through, I would brand Olivia forever, making sure she never forgot having me between her thighs.
Chapter 21
Ryan
I KNEW I would have to be the one to break the ice. We’d had a couple glasses of Liv’s favorite wine already by the fire pit. It wasn’t enough to make any of us drunk—just took the edge off as we relaxed over appetizers and good conversation. I saw Olivia glance at Brighton a few times from the corner of her eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking. I knew I should probably be jealous, but the truth was, Olivia North Wells would always be mine, even if she was intrigued by our neighbor. Brighton may be sharing her with me tonight, but when all was said and done, I knew I was her home.
That was the sexiest part of all of this.
“Come here, baby,” I finally said, looking at my wife across the flames. We were sitting in the oversized Adirondack chairs Livy had had custom made for us.
It was time. I could tell by the sweet, lazy look in her eyes. She was feeling things. She held my gaze as she stood, her hips swaying as she made her way around the fire pit. She brushed Brighton’s legs on her way over to me, and I couldn’t help but notice his hand reach out, making brief contact with Livy’s fingers as she passed by him.
Olivia set her wine onto the ledge of the fire pit before climbing onto my lap, facing me. Her dress was slit up the front, making it easy to part as she planted her bottom against me. I groaned when she dipped her head, cupping my face in one of the softest, most open kisses I’d received from her in a good, long while. This. This was the feeling I was chasing, I realized. Olivia—wide open and free. Without the weight of death hanging over her.
This carefree, uninhibited woman on my lap was the Liv I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. The one who loved me back just as fiercely as I did her. I would’ve given anything to take her right there under the moonlight if it guaranteed everything would be magically woven back together again, healed and better than before. To hell with Brighton Kerrington.
I could feel his eyes on us as I wrapped my arms around her waist, then slid them up her back, holding her possessively against my chest one last time while she was still only ever mine.
I stood with Olivia still on my lap, her legs wrapping around my waist as I lifted her up. She looked over her shoulder at Kerrington, and the look of longing that passed between them reminded me why we were doing
this in the first place. Thanks to me, the fire between them had been lit, allowed to breathe in oxygen as the flames flickered to life. I knew Olivia, and she wouldn’t be able to let go of the passion now pulling them together like an invisible thread until she burned him completely from her system.
I’d keep my word—for all our sakes. Give us this one night to lose ourselves, so we could find ourselves again. After hearing Kerrington’s story, maybe we all needed the healing it would bring.
My eyes landed on his when she pressed her warm, soft lips to my neck. Something special was brewing between the three of us, and I couldn’t explain it any more than I could fight what I’d started. It was time. I nodded for him to come join us. He walked over, then carefully moved Olivia’s hair off her neck while running his other hand slowly over her shoulder and down her arm. Liv’s breath hitched, and I could feel her walls start to crumble the moment she relaxed, moaning into my kiss as she shuddered under another man’s touch.
She closed her eyes and rolled her head to the side, giving him the access he was searching for. I watched as he leaned forward, his mouth finding her collarbone as he tasted her flesh for the first time. Livy’s lips parted in surprise as he slowly, gently traced my wife’s skin with his lips—from her shoulder to her jaw. Then he lifted her hair so he could kiss the small, intimate space on the back of her neck, just below her hairline. I found myself aroused by the sensual gesture, even as I was at war with the desire to pummel him.
It was Olivia’s moan that brought me back to my senses. This wasn’t about me. It was all about her. The sooner I let go of any remaining jealously, the better this would be for all of us.
I gripped her jaw, dragging her dreamy gaze back to mine. “I love you, Livy,” I reminded her, crashing my lips to her mouth. She kissed me back hungerly, matching the intensity I was suddenly feeling.
“Ryan,” she said softly when we parted.
I watched the pulse in her throat flutter as Kerrington sucked the delicate skin on the back of her neck. I palmed her breast, running my fingers along her pebbled nipple underneath too much fabric. An audible moan escaped her throat, and there was nothing I could do to stop what would happen next—thanks to the wheels I’d set in motion.
No matter how hard it was for me to watch Kerrington’s mouth on my wife’s skin, I’d give anything to watch her unfold—to bloom again as we peeled back layers of her grief, petal by petal.
Olivia dropped her legs, sliding them down my body so she could stand, my arms steadying her.
“You ready?” I asked, searching her silky blue eyes.
Liv nodded, quietly taking my hand in hers, even while reaching back for Kerrington. “Let’s go inside.”
Chapter 22
Olivia
HAVING A THREESOME wasn’t how I imagined it would be, or anything like I’d read in my romance novels. It was sensual, confusing, awkward, and earth shattering all at once. Ryan didn’t just sit back and watch—he was an active partner, often choreographing the beautiful dance our bodies were engaged in. There were many times I lost track of where my body ended and theirs began. The one constant was that Ryan and Brighton never once touched one another intimately—all their focus was on pleasuring me. The feeling of two sets of hands, and two sets of lips, worshipping every inch of my body as if I were the most precious treasure on earth was more intoxicating and all-consuming than I ever could have dreamed. Nothing else mattered that night—except the giving and receiving of pleasure, acknowledging the deeply rooted passion that had been building to a crescendo over the last month, no matter how badly we all wanted to deny it.
I closed my eyes the moment we made our way into the guest bedroom where Brighton was staying, letting my husband take the lead. Ryan was a sensual man by nature, but tonight, his primal side emerged—handing over every last part of his heart, his body, and his soul in the most vulnerable and loving way—by making room for Brighton in the equation.
As much as Ryan took and gave, Brighton was there, too, loving my body with an equal force and skill all his own. There was no comparing them; they were like the endless, all-consuming beauty found in both the night and day. Where Ryan was more tender from our years of shared intimacy, Brighton was untamed, demanding. Where Brighton’s passion was endless, Ryan met my heart at the depth I needed to see this through, never once making me feel ashamed for the pleasure I was feeling with another man. In fact, he let me know exactly what turned him on, bringing about a new wave of desire that tumbled the three of us back together long into the night. I didn’t know what time it was when we finally burned through our desire enough to succumb to sleep; but the three of us tumbled into dreamland together, in Brighton’s bed, with our arms and legs entwined in an intimacy only the three of us would ever understand. It took a limitless well of strength and confidence for Ryan to share me the way he had—knowing even if it hurt him, it may very well be the spark we needed to crack my grief wide open.
Our grief, I reminded myself.
That night, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time since we lost Laelynn—my body and heart satiated and full in a way that left little room for anything else. When I woke, the sun was casting a pinkish-orange glow from behind the breezy curtains, warming Brighton’s room. Ryan was still spooned around me, and my arm was wrapped around Brighton’s waist, my head nestled on his firm chest. There was no graceful way to untangle myself and get up for my morning coffee without waking them. I started to shift slowly, when Ryan pulled me closer, nuzzling my neck.
“Mmm,” he said. “Morning, Liv.”
I was so worried it would be awkward with him. That he would regret what we’d done. If anything, it was just the opposite. He pressed against me, his hands reaching up to cup my breasts. In doing so, he accidentally brushed against Brighton’s chest too, causing him to stir.
My eyes were the first thing he sought as he opened his lazily, adjusting to the bright morning light. They gleamed with mischief when he looked down and saw Ryan gently brushing his fingertips over my nipples, giving Brighton tacit permission to be with me one last time.
“Morning,” Brighton said. He shifted onto his side so he could face me. Then he ran his fingers down the side of my face as he leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly over mine.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just going to get up and make some coffee and pancakes.”
Ryan perked up, lifting his head off his pillow. “Did I hear pancakes?”
“Yes! If you stop trying to tempt me from getting out of bed.”
“Is that an option?” he asked, grinning over at Brighton. “You awake, Kerrington?”
“Never more so,” he said, running his hand down the front of my body with reverence. His hand slid over my bare hip, then found its way between my thighs, pressing them open.
Ryan’s lips brushed my collarbone, his tongue tracing hot, wet circles up my throat until he found my mouth. I wasn’t expecting it to feel so natural with them—especially after everything we’d done the night before. There are some things best left under the veil of darkness. The guys didn’t seem to get that memo, though.
“I guess pancakes could wait,” I said, my laughter quickly dying when Brighton’s fingers pressed deep inside me.
For the next hour, pancakes were the last thing on my mind. We found a natural rhythm together again, as we had the night before. Ryan already knew the things I liked, but Brighton was learning my body—and let’s just say he was a quick study. Where Ryan was gentler and more commanding with me, Brighton was unapologetically hot and dirty. He wasn’t afraid to tell me what he liked, and to give into any desire my body begged for. The combination made Ryan even hotter, both of us pushing boundaries we’d only fantasized about together. With the three of us, there were no walls in the bedroom. It was the freest I’d felt in a long time. Maybe ever.
Because, for once, I wasn’t in my head. I was in my body, living sensation to sensation, feeding off the next kiss, the next touch
. I never wanted to leave the bedroom. I was afraid that once the safety of our bubble was broken, it would all disappear, and I would crash into darkness once again. This wasn’t a permanent fix, after all. It was a catalyst.
I already felt different in my body, though, so maybe Ryan had been right. I guess only time would tell. All I knew as I stretched lazily between them, under the rays of the bright morning sun, was that my heart and my body were finally satiated as one.
Finally, the three of us rose together. Ryan was the first to leave, padding naked from Brighton’s room as he headed upstairs to our shower. Brighton slid his boxers on as I stood, searching for my clothes. I slid my underwear up my sore legs, my body well-loved many times over.
“I’ll grab the rest of my clothes and wash them after we all shower,” I said, making my way toward the door. Brighton stopped me before I could leave, his hand gripping my wrist and spinning me back toward him.
My breath hitched as I met his stormy green eyes, one of his arms now wrapped around my waist.
“Brighton,” I said, trying to find the right words. Without Ryan in the room, I couldn’t be as free with him, and that hurt my heart after giving him my entire being only moments ago. These were going to be tricky waters to navigate, and we hadn’t discussed any “after-the-fact” ground rules.
“Olivia,” he drawled as he grinned at me, “I just want to say a couple things before I lose the nerve. I’m not asking for anything.”