by Dale, Lindy
“Yeah.”
“Like, at the same time?” I know that they think I’m clueless about this but I’m actually in shock. I’m beyond confused.
“That’s the general definition of a threesome I believe,” Joel quips.
Smart arse.
“Are you mental?”
On the other side of the table, Nicholas chuckles.
“Gay, then?”
Not that I have anything against the way people express their love but… hey. And if that’s what this is really about and they think they can use me to experiment or something, they’ve seriously picked the wrong girl.
“Nope. Not gay,” Joel says. “Can’t speak for the big guy, of course, but I’ve never had a romantic thought about him in my life. I want you. So does Nick. This seems like the logical way to get what the three of us want. All jealousies aside.”
Well, for a man maybe. But it’s about sex for them, isn’t it? I mean, I know men fantasise about this kind of stuff but isn’t it two girls and a guy? I’ve never heard of two blokes and a girl in my life. I’m sure it happens. It’s just that it doesn’t happen with me. I’m nice, sensible Sadie. I don’t sleep with men I hardly know, let alone two of them at the same time. And frankly, I’m a little bit cross that this is what they want me to do.
Okay, a lot cross.
“What the hell do you take me for? I’m not going to be hopping into bed with either of you any time soon, especially not at the same time. I have standards.”
Nicholas looks dismayed. “No, Sadie no. No one’s suggesting you’re anything but the sweet, honest girl you are. I don’t think you’re some bit of scruff. And Joel doesn’t think it either.”
“Then what the hell do you think? First you tell me you’d most likely kill each other if I were with either one of you, now you’re asking me to have a threesome? Is this some kind of joke because I’m not finding it funny.”
“We’re not joking.”
Right. Well at least we have that straight. They’re not in love with each other and they want to have sex with me. Together. “So. Hypothetically. How do you propose we’re going to have this threesome? Are you going to be able to deal with the jealousy if we do it and I decide I like one of you better? Won’t you want to kill each other all over again? What will that mean for your business together? And what about my feelings?”
Wow. I said that so fast I almost sounded like Emily.
Nicholas pulls the chair out that’s beside me. He straddles it; his knees are close to my thigh. I can feel the warmth of his body on my leg and we’re not even touching. “It will be an arrangement, a strictly no-strings-attached thing.”
“But I’m going to know who’s doing what. I mean, I will be able to see you, feel you.”
“Not if it’s completely dark, or you’re blindfolded. This’ll be about pleasure only. For the three of us. We’ll remain equal.”
“But your hair, it’s completely different to Joel’s. And your voices…”
I can’t believe I’m even having this discussion. There’s no way I’m going to do it. Is there?
“We’ve got a plan. One of the rules will be that you won’t be allowed to touch anywhere above the neck.”
There are rules? I sit with my mouth open. I don’t know what to say. This is not Fifty Shades of Threesome. I won’t be signing any stupid contracts or engaging in kinky shit. I’m not bloody Anastasia Steele.
“When you leave the bay, that will be the end of it,” Joel says, calmly. “Finito. Holiday romance over. We’ll never see each other again. This is strictly for pleasure.”
Which would be right up Joel’s alley given his aversion to commitment.
I pick up my cider and drain the rest of the bottle. I am dumbfounded but of course, I’m not going to take them up on their offer so the logistics of the thing mean nothing. It’s hypothetical. I mean, how could I? The idea of me having a threesome is beyond ridiculous, even if they don’t think so. I cannot comprehend such a thought.
But then Nicholas looks at me, his large blue eyes search mine and he blinks twice. Slowly.
Oh God. I’m going to give in. Despite what my brain is telling me is right, despite the huge warning signs flashing above his head I know I’m going to give in.
*****
I wander about the house with my head somewhere in the erotic clouds. After two hours of discussion, I’ve agreed, tentatively, to meet the guys at a club tonight where we’ll have a few drinks to get in the mood for the ‘big event’. There’s no pressure on me and if I say no at the last minute that’ll be it, they’ve agreed to accept any change of heart. So this thing, if it happens, is up to me. I might have agreed in theory, but I know when the moment comes my conscience may well override any desire I have. Because when it all boils down to it, I don’t know if I can have sex for the sake of it. It doesn’t matter who’s asking.
At six, still torn by indecision, I ring Emily but there’s no answer. It’s not like her and it makes me worry so I leave her a message and send her a text to call me. I need to know she’s safe. She’s all I have left in the world.
By seven, I’ve made up my mind to go through with it. I’ve de-haired every inch of my body, plucked my eyebrows, given myself a home pedicure and finished painting my fingernails. I’ve never given this much thought to the way I look for seduction before, but I figure if there’s going to be two men inspecting me, I have to look twice as good. I’ve even straightened my hair, a process that can take hours given it’s thickness, but I like how I look when it’s straight. It’s sophisticated and grown up, not me. I’m someone else. I’m feeling nervous now and a little excited. The butterflies I used to get before I went on stage in dance competitions have resurfaced and are flittering madly in my stomach. I actually feel rather queasy.
At almost nine, I pack my phone, lipstick and some money in my clutch. I go to the toilet for the seventeenth time and as I smooth my dress over my hips, I silently thank Emily for insisting I throw it in my bag when I was packing. Then, with a deep breath, I head for the door.
Chapter 7
I reach the club about ten minutes later. There’s a queue and the door bitch looks me up and down while scrutinising my ID. It doesn’t phase me, I get asked how old I am all the time so I smile sweetly at her, knowing that every bit of ID she’ll now ask to see will tell her the same thing. I’m twenty-one. After making her point by getting the security guy to check inside my shoes and pat me down in search of drugs — ‘cause I really look like I’m a dealer — she allows me entry. I can’t believe she’s made a fuss simply because she can. Some people are on such a power trip.
Inside, I walk around the bar looking for Nicholas and Joel. We decided to meet in the furthest corner from the door but the guys aren’t here yet which is doing little for the second and third thoughts I’m having about this. I’m more nervous than before. So nervous, in fact, the minute I receive my first drink I knock it across the counter of the bar without even having a sip. The second drink disappears in much the same fashion because my hand is shaking, so I decide to buy two straight shots of tequila for my third attempt. Firstly, the glasses are so small I can’t possibly knock another one over and secondly, if I drink it fast, I might loosen up and calm down. Because right at this minute, I think I’m going to throw up. My stomach is in my mouth and the butterflies I felt before I left home are clomping around inside it, wearing boots. I have no idea what possessed me and I certainly don’t know why I spent the last four hours preparing like I’m going to an up close and personal photo shoot. I am not a threesome kind of girl. I’m so confused. I don’t know what kind of girl I am any more.
I down my two shots and order a glass of champagne and some water. The barman frowns at my swift ordering of drinks but says nothing. He probably sees girls every night who come here to pick up. Lonely girls on holiday looking for a bit of fun and ordering Dutch courage to make it easier. Is that what I am? Are the guys taking advantage of me? Have they spotted that I’m vulnerable an
d are swooping in for the kill? Maybe they do this all the time. Despite what they’re saying, they could be serial threesome types and everything they’ve done for me so far is part of their routine.
Why am I even here?
I take a glug of my champagne; the bubbles go up my nose. Deciding that I never should have consented to this insanity, I pick up my purse to leave and turn… SMACK!… into the rock hard chest of Joel. His hands fly to my elbows, steadying me. A flicker of attraction builds and explodes as my eyes travel slowly towards his face where a waiting eyebrow quirks in my direction.
“Going somewhere?”
“Um, hi.” Wow. He looks hot. Literally sizzling, in fact. He’s wearing dark jeans and a crisp white shirt. There’s a leather thong at his throat with something heavy and silver hanging from it. His hair is newly washed and still damp, I can smell the shampoo. And he’s shaved. The skin of his jaw looks so smooth; I just want to touch it. I swallow. “I was just, um, just popping to the loo.”
“You weren’t leaving?” He sounds almost sad, as if he’d be devastated if I had decided to leave.
“Of course not.” I try to relax my smile but I know I’m showing a lot of teeth and probably look like some sort of deranged person who forgot to take her medication. “Order me another drink, I’ll be back in a tick.”
And with that I race to the toilet, which is lucky because, by the time I get there, I find I really do have to go. Again. Damn nerves.
So, I’m standing in line, jiggling my leg and checking out the clothes of the other girls in the queue — one has a rather nice pair of strappy sandals and these cute pants — when my phone vibrates in my clutch. It’s Emily.
“I rang you hours ago,” I admonish. “I left three messages and a text. I was so worried. Where are you?”
“Calm down, Clarice,” Emily replies, with a giggle. I, so, hate it when she calls me that. “I could ask you the same thing—”
Huh?
“—I’m at yours. Where the hell are you? I turned up expecting to find you curled up in your jimjams eating chocolate and reading one of those inane books you like but it’s blacker than the inside of my wardrobe in your house.”
That’s saying something. Emily wears trademark black almost everywhere. It’s like her thing.
“You’re here? How can you be here?”
“I thought I’d surprise you. Come up and spend the weekend, have some girlie time, then give you a lift back to town. I swapped my shifts at the café.”
Suddenly, I have this sinking feeling like the blood has drained from my body. There’s a distinct chance I might actually be going to vomit for real. There are two men waiting for me in the bar. My best friend is waiting for me at home. I cannot introduce them. I cannot. They must not meet because Emily must not know. She’d be appalled. She thinks I’m so straight, so under the radar that me doing something so out of the ordinary might tip her over the edge. Because no matter what she says or how she acts, Emily is the monogamous type. She’s fragile. She abhors people who have affairs, no matter what the situation. Seeing me with two men would knock our friendship into the bay. Either that or she’ll try to chat up Joel. He’s definitely her type. A stab of jealousy twists at my insides as I contemplate that idea.
“I’m at a club,” I say, “But I’ll come home. Give me five minutes. It’s not far.”
“You’re at a club?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Alone?”
“Not exactly. There’s about two hundred people here. It’s packed to the gills.”
Not to mention the two guys I’m with.
“Awesome. I’m so glad you’re getting out again. You haven’t been yourself for a long time. Give me directions and I’ll meet you there.”
“Um, er, um.” This is not good. I should have said I was at the library. Emily never goes there. I don’t think she even knows what a library is.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to come?”
Oh geez.
“Of course I do.”
“But—”
How can I say ‘but I don’t want to share my two boyfriends without offending her? She’ll be awfully upset and I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. An elongated sigh escapes my lips. “But nothing,” I say in the perkiest, most enthused voice I can muster, “Get your butt down here this second.”
“Hashtag, magic!”
“And no more hashtags. You’re not an Instagram celebrity.”
“Yet.”
I tell Emily the address and hang up my phone, which I slip back into my bag. My nerves appear to have subsided, along with my need for the toilet, so I rush back to the bar hoping to at least get a chance to speak to Nicholas and Joel before Emily arrives. I have to tell them I’m sorry, that I didn’t plan for this to happen, that this is not some scenario I’ve concocted to tease or worse still get out of the threesome. And it’s certainly not because I’m keen to engage in some sort of sex-party-slash-orgy thing between the lot of us. More importantly, I have to warn them about Emily. She’ll be like a bee to honey when she sees these two.
*****
The music is ripping when I get back from the toilet. Strobe lights are bouncing around the room making everyone look like they’re doing strange robot dancing. The crowd has increased but it’s easy to see the boys. They have this presence that makes the rest of the crowd pale into insignificance. Plus, there’s a group of five or so girls about my age in the corner tittering in their direction. Their giggles are like a beacon pointing straight toward my men.
My men?
Hmm. Not yet. Probably never if Emily gets wind of it.
Nicholas hands me a drink and I take it, downing the entire glass in one go.
“There you are,” he says. “Joel and I were worried we’d have to brave the depths of the ladies’ loo to look for you. Thirsty work waiting in the toilet line, huh?”
I put my glass on the bar. “Not really. Listen, I’ve got something to tell you and I don’t know how you’re going to react.”
Joel, who’s been eyeing off the dance floor, swivels to face me. “You’ve changed your mind. No biggie. We’ll cope.”
I hate that he’s being so blasé about this when I know he likes me, more than likes me. What’s the deal with that?
“No. No,” I answer. I’m practically screeching and it’s then I realise that I haven’t changed my mind at all. It was simply my nerves getting the better of me and making my mind think silly things. “But there could be a problem. There is a problem. While I was in the toilet, my best friend Emily rang. She’s here. She wanted to surprise me. She’s on her way over. She can’t ever know I was considering a threesome. She just can’t.”
Nicholas runs a hand through his hair. I feel myself dissolve into a little lust puddle beside him. “We can call it off,” he says.
“It was fairly obvious you were shitting yourself when we got here,” Joel adds.
And here I was thinking I was all calm and relaxed. Not.
“I don’t want to call it off. I want to go through with it.” I sound like I’m about to have my entire body tattooed in one sitting.
“Me too.”
“I’ve always been in.” Nicholas smiles and wraps his arm round my shoulder. “Maybe we can get Emily so pissed she passes out.”
Ha, ha.
“Fat chance. Emily could drink an alcoholic under the table.”
“Don’t sweat it. If it’s meant to happen it’s meant to happen.”
I’m well aware of that but now there’s a possibility it mightn’t, I feel extremely upset.
*****
It only takes five or so minutes before we see Emily making her way through the crowd towards us. It never ceases to amaze me how she can jump the queue when other people have to wait for hours; she has this knack of being able to talk her way around the gruffest of bouncers. It doesn’t surprise me either, that she’s wearing black. A gorgeous black, sheath dress with long sleeves and a high neckline. I
t fits her slim body like a glove showing off her curves. Emily’s got a great body, one that I freely admit to being covetous of. Frequently.
“Saaaaadie,” she squeals, running toward me with her arms outstretched. She swipes my drink from my hand, finishing it for me before swallowing me in a huge, tight hug. As she releases me, her eyes narrow. “My, my, aren’t you the picture of health and happiness. Positively glowing, which is good to see. It feels like a decade since I’ve seen you, honeybubble.”
“I’ve missed you too. Have you got everything organised for Uni?”
Emily snorts. We both know she’ll be dashing frantically about the place on the last day trying to hook herself up with textbooks she should have ordered two months ago. “Whatever. Hey, is that door bitch a cow or what? She wanted to check in my shoes for drugs. I mean, come on. As if I’d hide them there. That’s what padded bras are for. Well, that and giving the boobs a shelf to sit on.”
She laughs at the look on Joel’s face and hugs me again before pausing to appraise the two men standing beside me. Her attention focuses quickly on Nicholas who is regarding her with the wariness one regards a man-eating shark when in the water. “Well, heeeelloooo there.”
“This is Nicholas,” I say. “We met on the beach a few days back when my hat blew away in the wind.”
“Who said chivalry was dead?” She gives Nicholas her most perfect smile, the one she reserves for men she’s especially interested in. “So you’re the one she’s been going on about—”
And cue embarrassing redness of cheeks. Geez, I hate it when she drops me in it like that.
“And this is his friend, Joel,” I say.
Emily gives me a nudge in the side. “Hashtag, hottie,” she whispers before turning back to the boys.
“—I’m Emily. Sadie’s best friend and general bad influence. She tries to keep me on the straight and narrow but I’m a lost cause. I’ve never gotten over the fact that my parents neglected to tell me they’re not my parents, so I’m rebelling by spending as much of their money as I can before they realise and give it to the natural born siblings. They hate me with a passion this week, so it’s all perfectly fine.”