Stitches

by Sam Mariano

  This is a unique predicament I’m in.

  Then there’s Griff himself. I don’t want him to be unhappy either, but I don’t know if I can make him happy. I’ve only ever thought of Griff as a friend. Sure, he’s a wonderful, handsome man—as I saw a few weeks ago when I helped him out of his shirt, a very handsome man—and I enjoy his company, but having a sexual relationship with him is another matter entirely. Plus, I know Griff; it won’t just be sexual. He’ll need an emotional connection, too. He’ll need a full-blown relationship.

  I’ll have two relationships with two different men. I did not sign up for that.

  I pace around the room and debate locking the door. Finally, I follow my husband’s directions and slide into the king-sized bed where Sebastian made love to me just this morning. Flashes of this morning come to mind, Sebastian’s kisses on my neck, his hands roaming my body. It makes my stomach sink. Only Sebastian should be in this bed with me. Only Sebastian should have my body. I don’t want my husband to lose his best friend, but I shouldn’t have to do this to keep him here. Sebastian told me to, though.

  I go over the same confusing thoughts and feelings while I wait. I talk it to death inside my own head. Perhaps I should have stayed downstairs and taken part in this conversation. This is about me too, after all. Sometimes Sebastian gets a little heavy-handed in matters like these. I don’t mind overly much, but it annoys Griff. Ordinarily, I defend Sebastian’s more domineering impulses, but ordinarily it’s something insignificant—what we should have for dinner, what color of lingerie he wants me to order. Not the parameters for my sexual relationship with another man.

  I’m playing in another league tonight, and I never even went to a try-out.

  The sound of knuckles rapping lightly on the door draws me out of my thoughts and kills my last hope that Sebastian might come up and save me from all this. Sebastian would never knock on our bedroom door—he would stroll right in.

  So, of course when the door eases open, it’s Griff. He looks confused. I am, too. I have no idea what he and Sebastian discussed. Does he even know he’s here to potentially fuck me? I say potentially, but I’m naked in this bed—how many other ways can this go?

  Oh, my God.

  Another man’s dick is going to be inside me. A man who isn’t my husband.

  Griff eases inside the room like he thinks he might be in the wrong place. “Uh… Seb said you wanted to talk.”

  My heart thumps loudly in my chest. I swallow, tightening my grip on the sheet around my breasts, and nod my head. His gaze drops to my bare shoulders, to the way I have the sheet wrapped around me. I can see by the way his face freezes that he’s realizing I’m naked underneath.

  He clears his throat. “Am I interrupting? I can… this can wait.”

  My stomach feels all fluttery, but I shake my head. If Sebastian wants me to do this, then… well, I’ll try. “Come over here,” I tell him, patting the empty space on the bed next to me. Not Sebastian’s spot—my side of the bed, if we kept to sides. We don’t. Sebastian and I sleep snuggled up against one another, but I can’t think of that right now. I’ll never be able to go through with this if I do.

  Maybe that means I shouldn’t.

  As I grasp for a way out of this situation, Griff looks reluctant to even enter it. He looks anywhere but at me, like he’s invading my privacy. We don’t speak. He eventually takes a seat on the edge of the bed, but I pat it again and he moves full on it next to me, stretching out his long legs. He stares straight ahead.

  “What did Sebastian tell you?” I ask, watching him closely.

  “Not that you would be naked,” he states. “He said you wanted to talk to me. This part he left out.”

  “He told me you’re leaving,” I begin, softly.

  His broad, muscular shoulders rise and fall in a shrug far too casual. “It just feels like time.”

  “Because of me,” I say.

  “No, not because of you.”

  “Because of Ashley?”

  He drags his gaze to mine, making a visible effort not to let it drop below my face. “It’s for me, all right? There are things I want out of life that I can’t get here, and I may not be able to get them anywhere else either, but at least somewhere else, no one’s rubbing it in my face.”

  I think it’s unfair that our relationship’s existence, our happiness, feels like rubbing it in his face. We don’t go out of our way to express it in front of him, that’s just how we are with one another.

  But maybe he understands that, and that’s why he wants to leave. This isn’t an instance where anyone has done anything wrong; we’ve simply outgrown one another. Maybe the right thing to do is to let him go. I would miss him all the time, and I know Sebastian would miss him even worse, but maybe that is the right thing for Griff.

  Sebastian won’t agree with that, though. I adore my husband, every corner of him, but he has a rigid side when it comes to his loved ones. It works for me; I’m flexible and happy to go along with most things. Letting Griff go is not something he will accept, even if it is better for Griff in the long run, because it will hurt. Because Sebastian thinks he can control the situation; he thinks he can use me to stop Griff from leaving. I understand, though. I feel for him. Sebastian has lost enough in his life, and he won’t volunteer to lose anything more—especially a relationship so crucial to him.

  I can’t make Griff stay if it will make him miserable, but I can’t let him go because that will make Sebastian miserable.

  These two men that I love are breaking apart, and maybe I am the only thing that can stitch them back together.

  I try to visualize where to go from here. I imagine sliding up against Griff’s hard body, running a hand up under the black T-shirt he’s wearing tonight. I can explore the muscular chest that I got a good look at a few weeks ago. I can dip my head and kiss him, swirl my tongue around his nipples, run my hands down his chiseled abdomen.

  It all makes me feel… I don’t even know. Too many things. There is attraction mixed in there somewhere. Curiosity. What would he do? What would it feel like to have his rough hands skimming the planes of my body? What does he taste like? What does his cock look like? Is he a tender lover, or more aggressive?

  I shouldn’t know any of this about Griff.

  “You okay?” he asks, watching me go through this weird range of emotions.

  I meet his gaze. “I don’t want you to go. We don’t—” I cut myself off, since he rolls his eyes. He’s already told me to quit the “we bullshit,” but…

  “Sometimes you have to do the hard thing, Moira.”

  “What if you didn’t?” I ask.

  “I do. I’ve thought this over. Sebastian already—”

  Instead of waiting for him to finish telling me how he needs to leave for reasons I already know, I give him something new. I scoot closer, tentatively looking up at him. His blue eyes are wide and wary. They drop to my sheet-covered body again, drifting down like he’s imagining what’s underneath.

  “Would you still need to go… if you didn’t just have to watch?” I ask, feeling my whole body flush at my brazenness.

  It’s heady, the way he looks at me. Like I’m the most valuable thing he can ever imagine looking at. Like he’d give everything to be able to see beneath the sheet. I can see his struggle when he meets my gaze again. I wonder how I haven’t seen it before. Was it always there, just beneath the surface, or did this just start with Ashley’s betrayal?

  “Did you leave Ashley?” I ask.

  He nods slowly.

  I heave a sigh of relief. “Good. She didn’t deserve you.”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” he tells me, honestly.

  I don’t know how to explain it with words—or I guess I do, but I don’t have the nerve left. I don’t have it in me to tell him my husband is willing to let him fuck me, if that’s what it takes to make him stay. He wouldn’t like that, anyway. Even if Griff literally dreams about what it’s like to be inside me, h
e wouldn’t like Sebastian using me that way.

  Sometimes I like being used. Not like this, but… well, we’ve never tried it before.

  In the most direct way possible, I explain—by dropping the sheet and revealing my naked breasts. For the briefest moment, he stares. Then he forces his gaze away, demanding, “What the hell are you doing?”

  I swallow down the lump of nerves in my throat. “Do you want me, Griff? Is that what this is all about? Can you stay if you have me?”

  “Moira…”

  I feel vulnerable, sitting here half-exposed to him and him not even looking. I know he’s just confused and doesn’t know what the fuck is happening, but it still doesn’t feel good.

  So, I throw the sheet off me completely.

  He can’t resist that temptation. He turns his head, his hungry gaze roving over my bare breasts. Like a magnet, his eyes are drawn between my legs and he groans.

  In a split second, he’s on top of me. I scoot down on the bed and he braces his weight on top of me, looking at my breasts again, then dragging his gaze to my face. “What are you doing, Moira?”

  My heart hammers so loud, I’m worried he can hear it. “Sebastian said… he said he’ll share me, if that’s what you need.”

  He holds my gaze for a moment, but I can’t interpret the turbulence in his gaze. Then he palms my left breast and I gasp, taken off-guard by the contact.

  “You think I’m some charity fuck, Moira?” he demands, his tone low and gravelly. I think he’s offended.

  “No,” I say on a gasp, as he squeezes my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Of course not, Griff. That’s not what this is.”

  He dips his head and catches my hardened nipple between his teeth. My stomach sinks, but falls straight into a pit of arousal. I throw my head back against the pillow as his mouth fastens over my nipple, sucking and then circling, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

  I grab at the sheets beneath me, fisting my hands in the soft fabric. He releases my nipple, kissing my breast, then turns the same attention on the other one. The rough pad of his thumb moves back and forth over the other one to keep them both stimulated. I can’t keep my head straight. There’s probably more talking to do, but I can’t think with his mouth leaving my breast and moving down my abdomen.

  I’m supposed to be the one pleasing him, I’m certain of it, but he drags his hands down my body like I’m something precious, then positions himself with his face between my legs.

  “Oh, God, Griff.”

  He gives me a searing look that unleashes a whole new swarm of butterflies in my tummy, then he buries his face between my thighs and tastes me.

  This is a mistake, it has to be. My stomach pitches with nerves and excitement as Griff’s tongue moves up and strokes my clit. Jolts of pleasure shoot through me and I twist, trying to turn away from it. He grabs my hips hard and holds them in place so he can explore my pussy without interruption.

  Oh, God, he feels so good. He’s so tender, while at the same time pushing his will. His will is to please me, to taste me, to make me feel good. He hasn’t thought of his pleasure once yet.

  It makes me desperate to give it to him. I want him… I want him inside me. I want to know what Griff is like as a lover. I want to know if he holds me down and drives his cock inside me, if he watches my face for every sign of pleasure so he can learn just what I like.

  I already feel the climb toward intense pleasure. He’s relentless with his tongue and he won’t let me move away. It turns me on more. I’m used to Sebastian’s dominance—it’s so much different from this. Griff holds me here to please me; Sebastian holds me here to please himself.

  Turns out, I can see myself liking both.

  I cry out as pleasure erupts within me, arching up off the bed and reaching down to tangle my hands in Griff’s hair. He comes up and I fall back against the bed. I’m sated for the moment, but it feels intensely erotic the way he’s still fully dressed, while my body is completely bare beneath him. The fabric dragging across my sensitive breasts, the roughness of his jeans on my smooth legs. I want him nearer. I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. He leans his head on my shoulder briefly, then begins kissing his way across my shoulder, toward my neck.

  My mind drifts to Sebastian’s kisses, to his lips on my neck. It’s like ice water being dumped over my prone body. I try to push it away, but now my husband’s face is in my head. I imagine how he would feel watching this. It was his idea to begin with, but I didn’t expect my body to fall so easily into wanting it.

  I just had another man’s mouth all over me. Lavishing attention on my breasts, kissing his way down my body, putting his mouth on my pussy, making me come.

  Griff’s rough hand brushes my hair back off my forehead and I realize he’s looking down at me, watching my face. “You okay?”

  I manage a bright smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you.”

  At that, he laughs a little. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  He remains above me, but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. He doesn’t drag his shirt over his head or free his cock, at the very least, so he can push it inside me and take his pleasure now. He runs his fingers across my abdomen, just touching me. Tenderness swims in his eyes, like he’s dreamed of being able to do this forever.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he requests.

  I swallow, knowing I can’t say what I was really thinking. Or maybe I can. I don’t know where his head is at in all this, either. “Have you two ever shared a woman before?”

  “Not intentionally.”

  I blink. “What does that mean?”

  Vague amusement enters his intense blue eyes. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, but lightly. “Well, now you have to.”

  “There was this one girl we both knew. A casual, just-for-fun kind of girl.”

  I roll my eyes. I don’t savor thinking of Sebastian ever being with another woman. Of course I know he was, probably plenty, but it’s still annoying to hear about.

  “Anyhow, we were really young, early twenties.”

  I bite my bottom lip to keep my smile small. “My age,” I point out.

  “Well, we were much less… domesticated.”

  “I bet you were.”

  He continues to caress my skin while he tells me his story. It feels nice, the casual tenderness. “Her name was Stella. She was one of a few people who would crash at our place every now and then. Seb and I were both really busy, we both worked two jobs, so we were almost never home at the same time. I started getting to know her when she would stay over. To be honest, I didn’t even know where she slept. It’s not like she lived there, so I figured she crashed wherever she fell. One night I was home and she was there. One thing led to the next, I took her to my room.”

  I screw my nose up again.

  Griff smirks. “Then a couple days later Seb and I were home at the same time. He came out in just a pair of sweats, she came out wearing his T-shirt. Didn’t take a detective to figure it out, but in case I wondered, he grabbed her ass and kissed her while he waited for the coffee to brew.”

  My eyes widen. “No.”

  He nods. “Yep. It wasn’t a big deal, like I said. Neither of us were involved with her, but… yeah, turns out we did both fuck her at the same time.”

  “She could have told you,” I point out.

  “Could’ve,” he agrees. “Didn’t.”

  That’s not the same situation at all, but it’s the closest thing I have for reference. “And that didn’t cause any sort of trouble for you guys? It wasn’t weird?”

  He shrugs one shoulder, considering. “More funny than weird. There were no feelings involved; we just thought she was a tricky little ho.”

  I can’t help smiling. “She does sound a bit like a tricky little ho.”

  “At least she had good taste,” he jokes.

  I nod my head, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t argue that.” It still doesn’t answe
r my question, though, so I meet his gaze more seriously. “Can you share? Even if he’s able to make it work… can you?”

  “Do I not strike you as good at sharing?”

  “Not especially,” I say, honestly.

  A grin claims his lips. “All right, I guess that’s fair. You’re his, though. His first, at least. That makes it easier. I shouldn’t have you at all, but if there’s a way we can both have you… that’s appealing. Is it good with you?”

  I still haven’t entirely decided, but the only response I can muster is a positive one. He’s still running his fingers across my skin like he can’t believe I’m here. I went from nauseated to wanting him in the space of about ten minutes, so it seems like I can bring myself around to it. I just need them to be okay with it. I’m already happy; I’m doing this to make them happy.

  It seems like it’s working for Griff so far, so I nod my head. I only hope it’s working for Sebastian, and that it continues working. “Yeah, I want to try it. I just want everyone to be happy. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “I don’t, either. You know how it is with me and Seb.”

  “I know how it was,” I state. “But you tried to leave him today. You know he doesn’t deal well with that.”

  “Well, I didn’t think this was an option,” he states.

  “But since it is…” I look up at him, waiting on him to assure me he’ll stay.

  He does. “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

  That brings a genuine smile to my lips. “Good.”

  He smiles, another smile that feels so much lighter than is typical. I never thought of Griff as being guarded around me, but the unguarded tenderness he’s shown me in just the last few minutes is so much different than how he’s been with me in the years we’ve known one another. It’s too drastic a change to have occurred in a few minutes, so I have to believe he held all these feelings behind some kind of floodgate. It fortifies my belief that I’m what came between them, that I’m the reason he had to leave.