Stitches

by Sam Mariano

  My irritable gaze lingers on the glass as he brings the strong liquor to his lips and takes a sip, but it’s not him I’m mad at. It’s not Carrie. It’s not even Ashley. It’s me. I was trying to be nice and I put myself in a vulnerable position. No way I could have ever foreseen these recent events, no way I ever thought there was a chance I would do anything that could even be technically manipulated to look like cheating. That’s why, in all my fucking idiocy, I made the agreement. Ashley was insulted that I wanted her to sign a prenup to begin with, so I wanted to show her I was decent, that I wasn’t trying to fuck her over.

  I was too fucking considerate. She actually cheated; she actually did something wrong. The honorable thing to do would be to accept that she fucked up her golden opportunity and retreat quietly. But no. Of course that’s not how it goes.

  “Huh?” Seb prompts, since I haven’t answered.

  “I don’t think we can do anything,” I tell him. “Seems like all I can do now is wait.”

  “You’ll be all right,” Seb assures me, taking another sip, then balancing his drink on his thigh.

  “I can’t take Moira out. Not without you, at least. Not until the divorce goes through.”

  Unsurprised, he nods his head. “Well, I told you I didn’t think you should do that from the start, but yeah. Ashley wants your blood and I’m not letting Moira get pulled into this bullshit. I’ve kept my nose out of it as best I can, but the minute Moira gets caught under the tires is the moment that ends. You play as nice as you want with Ashley; just keep my wife out of it.”

  “I wouldn’t let her hurt Moira.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t think you were gonna let her hurt you, either, but here we are. You try to be a nice guy, you try to be fair, and that’s not how life works. Only the strongest survive—and the people under the protection of the strongest. People who play nice will always end up getting fucked, Griff. Now you know.”

  He’s so fucking cynical sometimes. He’s not altogether wrong, though. “Do you and Moira have a prenup?” I ask, out of curiosity.

  “Of course we do,” he replies, like he can’t believe I’d ask such a stupid fucking question.

  “And you didn’t put a thing in it to protect her? We all know you protect your own interests, but what if you were the one who fucked her over?”

  “I wouldn’t,” he says, simply. “It’s enough that I know that. I don’t need to put it on paper and get the courts involved.”

  I shake my head, throwing back my own drink. “Yeah, well, Moira treats your word like fucking gospel; I’m not surprised she didn’t push back. Ashley wasn’t so agreeable. She was insulted I asked her to sign one in the first place. She wanted to know if I became an asshole like so many other men in the world, I would have to pay for it. I thought that was fair.”

  Seb is not impressed. “Yeah, well, that was your mistake. If you fell in love with someone else, you could have just given Ashley a pay-out. It didn’t have to be in the paperwork.”

  “I wasn’t worried it would happen, she was. Weirdly enough, I didn’t think I had to worry about it. I’m sorry I tried to be a nice fucking guy.”

  “You should be,” he states. “Nice guys finish last, Griff. We don’t finish last.”

  I lean forward and put my empty glass down on the coffee table. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  “I’m sorry she’s giving you such a hard time, I really am. Stupid bitch should be grateful you forgave her the first time.”

  “I’m not sure I did,” I admit, shaking my head. “She said a lot of shit to me, but it wasn’t all wrong. I never should’ve married her in the first place. I didn’t do it for the right reasons. I didn’t have the feelings for her I should’ve had.”

  “She didn’t marry you for the right reasons either,” Seb points out. “Hardly matters now. All you can do now is get the hell out of this thing and never make this kind of mistake again.”

  I have half a mind to tell him the rest of what Carrie said, about how if Ashley can get the prenup thrown out, that’s going to have blowback on our business interests, too. I don’t, though. I don’t want to give him another reason to tear me a new asshole. He may be inconvenienced and sympathetic about my situation now, but if Ashley’s greed extends that far, if my bad decisions start to cost him, he’s going to have a big fucking problem.

  That’s the last thing I want. I love Seb, I respect the hell out of him, but he’ll play dirty if someone throws a sucker punch first. You may hit him once, but you best believe he’ll win the fucking fight. Ashley is used to pushing me around, but she’s never dealt with Seb before—and she doesn’t want to. He’s worked entirely too hard to build all this shit to let some gold digger take any of it away from him. He even has a prenup with Moira, and he loves the hell out of Moira. He doesn’t give half a fuck about Ashley.

  I don’t even want to alert him to the possibility. It stresses me out just thinking about it.

  I tell myself it won’t come to that. He pours me another drink and hands it to me, smiling faintly, trusting me to take care of my own shit. I can do that. I can control this situation. I can deal with Ashley and get this matter resolved.

  All I have to do is keep my distance from Moira. I can see her when Seb is home, of course, but overnight visits are probably out of the question for a little while.

  We can be friends, we just can’t be lovers—not in public, at least.

  17

  Moira

  I lie on the couch between Sebastian’s legs, enjoying the peace of this evening while he plays with my hair and responds to emails on his phone.

  I love our life. I love this man. I love this pocket of peace, just the two of us.

  It’s been just the two of us a lot this week. Right on the heels of Sebastian nudging me to open up more with Griff, Griff stopped coming around as much. I guess there have been some complications with his divorce; Ashley’s trying to stop it and since Griff has no interest, she’s trying to take as much with her as she possibly can.

  Griff still comes over for dinner on nights he isn’t working, but then he leaves. I haven’t done more than kiss him since the night they double-teamed me.

  As content as I am with my husband, I do miss Griff. I don’t just miss him for me; I miss the casual interaction between Griff and Sebastian when we’re all here in the evening. And, sure, I miss them both playing with me.

  I’ve been getting lots of one-on-one time with my husband this week, but I can’t help wondering if Griff is lonely. He should be here with us, not trapped in a big, lonely house full of memories that can only hurt him.

  I twist back now and look up at the gorgeous man I married. He’s dressed all in black today, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to show me a swatch of tanned skin. He’s still wearing his black suit jacket, but that’s unbuttoned, too.

  His intense gaze is still on his phone, even though he must have felt me turn. Now he runs his hand over my shoulder and settles it on my back as I switch positions. He still doesn’t look at me. I wrinkle up my nose, wanting his attention more since he isn’t volunteering it.

  I run my hand down his chest and shoot him a devilish smile that goes unnoticed as I unbutton the next two buttons on his shirt. Now I know he’s ignoring me to get a rise out of me.

  “I know your game, Mr. St. Clair,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. St. Clair,” he says, innocently.

  I push my hand up under his shirt and run my hand over his pec, circling his nipple with my index finger and watching his face. Still ignoring me, damn him. I try harder, crawling up his body and trailing my lips along his collar bone, then kissing his neck. When I get near his ear, I murmur, “Your wife needs your attention.”

  “Then she should earn it,” he states.

  I narrow my eyes and bite down on his earlobe. “She’s trying.”

  “She should try harder.”

  I want to be
annoyed at him, but I fail. He knows just how to tease me and make me crazy. I was only checking on him when I turned—I was actually going to tell him he should invite Griff over, since apparently I’m discouraged from texting him for the moment—but now he’s pushing all my buttons and I want to shake him.

  He may be able to ignore my kisses on his neck, but I know where he can’t ignore them. Sliding lower, I open the rest of his shirt and kiss my way down his toned abdomen, my fingers unbuckling his belt.

  “How’s this?” I ask, peering up at him.

  “Better,” he says, like he could still take it or leave it.

  I narrow my eyes at him and unbutton his pants, unzipping them and shoving my hand down the front. He still manages to keep his eyes trained on his phone, but I can see the corners of his mouth trying to tug up in a smile. He stifles it as fast as I see it, but then I wrap my fingers around his dick and stroke him. His gaze shifts to me.

  “Little minx.”

  “Your little minx,” I agree, watching his face for signs of pleasure. I see faint traces and I think I have his attention, but after a moment he goes back to his phone.

  “Really?” I demand.

  “Hey, if you’re out of ideas…” He trails off, raising his eyebrows.

  “You’re a wicked man,” I inform him, yanking his pants down his hips. My blood stirs with desire when I see the bulge in his black boxer briefs. I run my hand over it, cupping him, then I tug those down, too.

  His cock springs free and it feels like Christmas. I never get used to this man. I grasp his thick shaft and run my tongue along it from base to tip. I steal a glance up at him to see if I’ve won.

  Now he’s watching me. Now I have his attention. I’m feeling lightly vengeful, so I toy with him, running my tongue over it but not taking him into my mouth. Then I stroke him with my hand and ask, “Do I have your attention now, Mr. St. Clair?”

  “You do. What are you going to do with it?”

  I narrow my eyes at him and release his cock, pulling away from his body and retreating to my own side of the couch. “Absolutely nothing,” I say, with relish.

  “Is that so?” he asks, blandly. “I disagree. I think you’re going to come over here like a good little wife and wrap those beautiful lips around my cock.”

  “What could possibly make you think that?” I demand, lifting an eyebrow.

  Now that I’ve adequately challenged my beloved husband, he finally tucks his phone away and crawls forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair. He drags my face back toward his lap and says simply, “Suck.”

  I still feel a little spunky, but more than that, I’m turned on. I really want him in my mouth, so when he guides my head there, I open up and take him.

  “Mm, good girl,” he says, rubbing my back.

  I’m dizzy with pleasure already. I get swept up in him, in his strong hand gathering my hair in a fist, guiding my head, in every sexy sound that comes from this man I’m so deeply in love with. I get spikes of pleasure myself, knowing I’m giving it to him.

  I’m so wrapped up in him that it takes me a second to realize those couldn’t possibly be his hands suddenly on my ass, or his fingers moving between my legs. I’m not wearing panties, so there’s nothing in the way. A long finger sinks inside me and relief pours through me.

  So much that I pop off my husband’s dick and turn to look back, lighting up when I see his ruggedly handsome face.

  “Griff. I’ve missed you.”

  He smiles faintly and bends down to kiss me on the forehead. “I’ve missed you, too, believe me.”

  Now I don’t have to miss anybody. Now I feel all the pieces fit together. Griff is home and Sebastian is pleased. I bend to take his cock into my mouth again, and Griff lifts my dress, positioning himself behind me. I hear a clink as he unbuckles his belt and drops his pants. He’s still wearing a suit from work, so he only undresses enough to draw his cock out and shove it inside me.

  It’s perfect. Everything is perfect now that they’re both home.

  They fuck me on my sofa and I feel so happy afterward, not just from the pair of orgasms they gave me, but because I have them both here with me. Since I’ll get to cuddle my husband in bed tonight, I curl up with Griff on the couch and tenderly run my hand across his muscular chest.

  “How have you been?” I ask him.

  “All right,” he answers, trailing a finger up and down my arm. “I’ve had some issues with Ashley, so I haven’t been able to come around.”

  I nod against his chest. “Sebastian told me. I’m sorry she’s being a pain in the ass. I wish all this divorce crap was over with so you could stay with us again. I miss snuggling with you in bed.”

  That makes him smile. “Yeah?”

  “Mmhmm,” I verify, leaning up and dropping a few tender kisses along his neck. “You belong here with us, not at that big, dumb house all by yourself. I got used to having you both; now that you’re not here, I’ve discovered I don’t like it at all.”

  “I don’t either. Bedtime is much less interesting without you two there to keep me company.”

  I beam up at him, then leave a flurry of kisses along his jawline. I think I’m happiest because he said “you two,” meaning both of us and not just me. “Maybe you could stay tonight,” I suggest. “You haven’t been staying, so one night wouldn’t be wrong, would it?”

  Griff looks down at me with a small measure of regret, but I can tell he doesn’t want to deny me. Leaning forward just slightly, he looks over at Sebastian. “What do you think? It has been a while.”

  With a casual shrug, Sebastian says, “Your call. If you’re going to stay, put your car in the garage.”

  I take that as permission and run my hand along Griff’s thigh. “So, you’ll stay?”

  “I’ll stay,” he agrees.

  “Good,” I say, before sighing contentedly and resting my head on his muscular chest.

  Sebastian pulls his phone out again and gets back to business. I only know it’s business because now that his other partner is here, Sebastian starts talking about some idea he has for expansion, some retail space he wants to buy. I’m drowsy and Griff trails his fingers up and down my arm while they talk. Before I know it, I drift off.

  I stir when I’m jostled and open my eyes to find Griff carrying me up the stairs to the bedroom. I smile faintly and wrap my arms around his neck, nuzzling my face into his shoulder. “You didn’t have to carry me.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “You’re so strong,” I murmur.

  He chuckles and tells me to go back to sleep.

  Once inside our bedroom, he deposits me gently in the center of the bed, then braces his weight on his knees and rolls me over onto my stomach, pulling down the zipper on the back of my dress. It shouldn’t feel so sensual, but it does. I’m half asleep and not completely with it, so having someone undress me feels unspeakably naughty.

  I turn my head to look over at Sebastian and see him standing by the bedside, regarding me with tenderness as he tugs his dress shirt out of his slacks. Just the swatch of his toned, sexy stomach makes me want to crawl over there and lick him. Griff grabs me by the bicep and rolls me over. He’s only trying to help me out of my dress, but the moment of roughness sends desire curling through me. He peels my dress down over my arms and turns to discard it, but as soon as he turns back, I climb up on my knees and lean in to kiss him. I’m wearing nothing more than a flimsy bra now, no panties. More often than not, if we’re at home and I’m in a dress, Sebastian likes me to skip the panties in the interest of easy access.

  Griff’s rough hands skate down the smooth plane of my back as he kisses me, halting at the small of my back and pulling me against him. He’s still fully dressed, the crisp fabric of his suit chafing my stomach, the buckle of his belt pressed against my pelvis. I want him again. I want them to wear me out before I fall back asleep.

  I reach down between his legs to grab him and let him know what I want.

  Then I hear my husba
nd climb on the bed behind me. I feel him crawl across the bed and then his hands are on me. He gathers my hair and pushes it over my shoulder so he can place a kiss at the nape of my neck. I shiver at the touch of his lips against my skin.

  “You know what I think she wants, Griff?” Sebastian murmurs, between the kisses he’s dropping along my shoulder. “I think she wants both of us inside her again.”

  The memory of that night, of the intense pleasure, fills me with longing. I sigh against Griff’s mouth, a little weaker at the thought of it. God, yes. I want that.

  “Well, I’m not one to deny a lady what she wants,” Griff states.

  “Same here,” Sebastian agrees, unhooking my bra.

  “You’re both upstanding gentlemen,” I inform them. Griff grins down at me before cradling the back of my neck and kissing me.

  Sebastian grabs my hips and pulls my ass back against him. I can already feel his hard cock demanding my attention, straining to get inside me. I need to feel Griff, too, so while he kisses me, I reach down and unbuckle his belt. I draw it off and go to discard it, but Sebastian takes it out of my hands before I can.

  A shiver of anticipation moves down my spine. I don’t know what he’s going to do with it, but I trust him implicitly. He rubs one hand over my ass while I try to concentrate on unbuttoning Griff’s pants, then his hands are gone. His body isn’t pressed against my backside anymore. I bend slightly to pull down Griff’s pants. All of a sudden, there’s a sharp sting as Sebastian whips Griff’s belt against my bare ass. I cry out more in surprise than at the impact, but Griff misinterprets. In a sudden show of aggression, he yanks me away from Sebastian, grabbing the belt and ripping it away from my husband.

  “You do that again, I’ll fucking whip you with it.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, running a calming hand down Griff’s chest and glancing at Sebastian to make sure he’s not offended.

  Sebastian smiles coolly, but his blue eyes flash. “You’re welcome to try, but friends or not, that won’t work out very well for you.”