His: MMF Bisexual Holiday Romance

by Chloe Lynn Ellis

  Aiden doesn’t deserve this. Nobody does.

  I’m so focused on my outrage that I don’t realize how close I’ve gotten to Aiden until I’m leaning so far off my chair that I’m practically sitting on top of him.

  But when I notice, boy, do I ever notice. Our faces are inches apart, and as I look up into his eyes I see that he’s looking at me with a wild intensity. He puts a hand onto my hip, steadying me on my chair, and my whole body seems to burn with his touch. Maybe if I wasn’t so keyed up, I would feel embarrassed for letting myself go off that way. But all I can think about is Aiden, the pulse pounding in his neck, how soft his lips look.

  “Ginny,” he says, his voice raw and hoarse with some emotion.

  And then, before I know it, I’m kissing him, my hands tangled in his dark, shaggy hair, and he’s kissing me back, pulling me onto his lap. I can feel his body responding to me, rapidly getting hard under my ass as he holds me tight. It feels like we’re in our own little world instead of a bustling coffee shop.

  But that little world bursts like a soap bubble when Aiden suddenly pulls away with a soft curse.

  “I—I’m sorry, I can’t,” he says. “I want to—but—I just can’t.”

  I stare at him in disbelief, unable to make sense of his words. “What?” I ask finally, my voice tiny.

  Aiden looks at me with something verging on panic. “I’m so sorry,” he blurts, and then he’s out the door, leaving what’s left of his cocoa on the table.

  I watch him rush down the street and disappear into a mob of commuters, wishing the earth would just open up and swallow me whole already. I feel like crying right then and there; I shouldn’t, but what the hell was that? One moment we’re sharing a totally hot, amazing kiss, one I know he was into, and the next he runs away from me? I thought we had a connection, I thought… well, whatever I thought, I obviously thought wrong. How could I be so stupid?

  My feelings and my pride are both hurt, bruised and battered, and I feel all that energy, that fight, go out of me. I feel a million times worse now than I did earlier, a million times sadder now that I have fresh rejection to go with this old mourning. All I want to do is go home, curl up someplace warm, and sleep until this whole, horrible season is over.

  Chapter 5

  Aiden

  I fucked up, I fucked up so bad, I fucked up so, so bad. Stupid, worthless fuckup, stupid, greedy, selfish fucking pervert, too dumb to know what’s good for me—my father’s voice roars in my head, all the shit he said to me a bitter soundtrack superimposed over Ginny’s shocked, hurt face. What the fuck is my problem? Something’s wrong with you, boy, says my father’s voice. Something in you got broken. Was the old man right about me all along?

  He’s gotta be; something in me must be busted, for me to do the shit I pulled last night. I can’t get over it, still can’t believe I did what I did.

  Luke and I have had a good thing going, these past couple of weeks; not a long time to be dating, but even in that short time, he’s been more than I ever thought I’d get to have in my life. More than I deserve. He makes me feel safe, and taken care of, and every time we fool around it just keeps getting better and better. Luke never makes me feel broken; he makes me feel like I’m someone worth being proud of, a person worth belonging to someone. He’s like something from a dream, and I’ve been wondering when I was gonna wake up.

  So of course then I go and fuck it all up, and trip over my own dick because I happen to hear some cute girl feels sad? No, that’s not fair to her—Ginny didn’t seem like “some cute girl,” she felt… I dunno, special somehow. Like we belonged together. But I’m supposed to belong to Luke, supposed to be all his. That’s how, y’know, that’s how it works, this thing we’ve got. How could I go behind his back like this, especially when he told me about how his fiancée was stepping out on him? How could I be so fucking stupid?

  If I stay in my apartment like this, I’m gonna either go crazy or wear a groove in the crappy carpet. I’ve gotta come clean. I don’t know how I’m gonna fix this, or if I can, but I’ve gotta try. I start to dial his number, but this isn’t the kind of shit you can do over the phone. He’s at work now, and I don’t want to bother him, but fuck it. If I wait, I’m going to chicken out. Luke doesn’t deserve that; I can’t do shit right for myself, but I can at least be honest for him. Even if it’s gonna destroy everything.

  I’ve never been to Luke’s office, but I know where it is; I’d be blind to miss a building that huge and sleek. I feel like a fuckin’ country mouse walking in there, like everyone’s looking at the big moose that wandered in off the street. I fight the urge to rub the back of my neck, to clench my hands into fists and hunch my shoulders forward. I’ve got a good reason to be here, I tell myself as I walk toward the big security desk.

  The security guard is a huge guy, about my height but easily about a hundred pounds bigger than me, and I work pretty hard in the gym.

  “I’m, uh,” I clear my throat, straighten up. “I’m here to see Luke Anders.”

  The guard gives me a long look, then picks up the phone and punches a button. “Yeah, Sheila? Hey. Got a guy here for Attorney Anders.” He waits, never taking his eyes off me. “Yep, I’ll send him up. Thanks.” The guard hangs up the phone and looks at me. “All right, sir, you can go on up and request an appointment with an assistant. As a courtesy. Sign in.” He taps a huge finger on an open binder, listing names and arrival times, and I sign. “Fourteenth floor,” the guard says.

  The metal security grates slide open for me as the elevator door dings open, and I step into the fanciest elevator I’ve ever seen. It’s not a long ride, but my dad’s voice still finds time to get some good digs in. Fuck, I’m a mess.

  “Good morning, sir,” says a perky young woman at the big glass reception desk. She looks professional and neat, and I think again how much like shit I’ve gotta look. “Do you have an appointment with Attorney Anders? I’m sorry, but I’m not showing one on our schedule.”

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “Uh, no, I…” I begin, scratching at the back of my neck before I can stop myself and then jamming my hands in my pockets. She’s giving me that polite, robotic pleasantness that I know so well, the high-end office version of a mandatory retail smile.

  “It’s fine, Sheila.” Luke’s voice comes from just behind her, and both of us snap our gazes toward where he stands. Fuck, he looks amazing. “Aiden is a friend of mine,” Luke says. “I asked him to come by; he doesn’t need an appointment.” The secretary relaxes and her smile looks more genuine once it’s clear she’s not going to get chewed out for letting some random stranger up to her boss’s floor. My heart feels like breaking; he’s welcoming me, vouching for me where he works, and I’m here to tell him I fucked him over. Luke puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me with him into his office. “Aiden, how’ve you been?” he says loudly, then shuts the office door.

  As soon as we’re alone, he pulls me into him and kisses me, slow and deep, his hands twining into my hair in that hot, commanding way I like. When he finally breaks away, I’m gasping for air, my body aching for more. “All right,” Luke tells me, holding my face close to his. “Normally, I would be delighted that you decided to swing by, but it’s all over your face. What’s wrong, Aiden? You can tell me—you’re safe here, you’re with me.”

  I want to look away, to shrink from his eyes, but his hand in my hair holds me fast. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s scary and reassuring at the same time. I lean into his touch and take a deep breath. “There was, uh, this girl,” I say.

  Luke’s face tightens slightly, but he says nothing.

  Fuck, this is torture. “We just met randomly, last night, outside where I work,” I tell him. “And I asked her for coffee, just kind of without thinking. We got to talking, about how the holidays suck for both of us, and I told her about my folks.” I lick my lips, trying to force the words out at the same time I’m trying to keep the tears back. “And—and she kissed me.”
>
  Luke’s fingers slide out of my hair, releasing me as he turns away. “Who was she?” he asks me, facing away toward the window. His voice is calm, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s upset and keeping it under control or because he just doesn’t care. “If you told her about your parents, you must have felt some sort of deeper connection.”

  I rub my jaw anxiously. “Just some waitress,” I say. “Her name was Ginny; she said she worked at that Verve place, the one we went…” I swallow hard. “The one we went to on our first date.”

  Luke looks back at me, but he doesn’t look angry. Doesn’t look upset at all. He looks… thoughtful. Then he sees my face, the tears welling up in my stupid fucking eyes, and before I know it, I’m in his arms again.

  I slump against him, exhausted from worry.

  “You took a big risk, coming here to tell me this,” Luke says. He rubs the back of my neck. “I’m proud that you told me the truth, Aiden. I’m pleased that you were honest with me. You know how important honesty is in my book.”

  “You’re not angry?” I ask Luke. “We’re not—” I can barely say the words. “We’re not over?”

  Luke looks at me appraisingly. “Do you want to be?” he asks simply.

  “No!” I almost shout, my hands up like I’m Superman trying to stop a train. “No,” I repeat, softer. “I really, really don’t.”

  Luke gives me a small smile. “I don’t want it to be over, either, Aiden,” he says. “I… like you very much, I like your company, and I think we work extremely well together.” The edge of his mouth quirks up, and I can tell he’s thinking about the eager way I obey his direction, the way I seem to crave his authority in bed. “You said her name was Ginny?” Luke asks me, his blue eyes narrowing, and I don’t think it’s in suspicion. I wonder if this is how he looks when he’s in lawyer mode, keen and sharp.

  “Yeah,” I tell him.

  “Petite,” he says. “Extremely…” Luke makes a motion with his hands, sketching a woman’s voluptuous curves.

  I laugh in spite of myself. “Oh, yeah.”

  Luke drums his fingertips on his desk. “I have to admit,” he says, “that I have also met the lovely Ginny.”

  Something clicks in my head. “You said you go to that restaurant a lot,” I say.

  Luke points a finger at me and smiles as if he’s a teacher and I’m the student who just made the connection he was looking for. “Precisely,” he says. He sits on the edge of his desk and motions toward the leather chair in front of it, indicating I should sit. “Before I met you, Aiden,” he says. “I had designs on her myself. So I can completely understand your interest in her. But…” He trails off, thinking while I try to deal with the bombshell he just dropped in my lap. Then his piercing blue eyes return to mine. “I don’t want to share you, Aiden,” he says.

  “I know,” I tell him. “I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again—”

  Luke cuts me off the wave of his hand. “I don’t want to share you… with strangers,” he says. “I like what’s mine to be mine. I know you understand that.” I nod. Where’s he going with this? “But if we manage to entice our lovely little waitress to join us…” he says, and I watch a slow smile spread across his handsome face. “If she belongs to both of us, if you belong to both of us, I can hardly complain about that, can I?”

  I stare at him, unable to keep from a short bark of shocked laughter. Here I came in expecting Luke to throw me out on my ass, to confirm all the shit I was thinking about myself being a no-good cheating fuck. And here he is, pitching me the idea of us having a shared girlfriend. I don’t know what to say.

  I think about Ginny, about having her in my arms, about making love to her. With Luke watching us. I think about her riding Luke’s dick while she blows me. It’s fucking hot, all of it. And weirder than everything else, I feel a strange fluttery thrill go through my heart.

  Luke’s eyes rake down my body and his smile widens. “I can see that you like that idea, Aiden,” he says quietly, leaning forward to cup the crotch of my jeans where I’m already getting stiff. “Now,” he says, “I want you to hold that thought. Get to work; I’ll handle this. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

  Chapter 6

  Luke

  I make my way to Verve as soon as I finish at the office. There was a flurry of activity in the last week or so as everyone tried to get ready to leave on their vacations, but now, things have quieted down and I can leave relatively early.

  Aiden took a big risk coming to my office today. His confession this morning was… enlightening. Both in showing me his devotion to our relationship, his strength of character, and in illuminating my own desires. I have to say, the idea of having two gorgeous submissives to direct, to watch, to enjoy, makes my cock twitch. More than just the sexual benefits, I feel a strange, new kind of electricity when I think about both Aiden and Ginny. To have them together, to have them both be mine… how would that feel?

  But before that can happen, I need to go speak with the lady herself. The hostess, Daphne, greets me with her usual enthusiasm. She’s a good-looking woman, but she doesn’t have that special quality I look for. “Mr. Anders,” she coos. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  I meet her gaze, keeping my eyes on her face despite the impressive cleavage she’s trying to display. “Daphne, my dear,” I say, my voice low and confiding so that she draws nearer. “I need to enlist your capable expertise in a personal matter.”

  “Oh?” she asks, a little smile playing on her lips. Excellent.

  “I’m looking for Virginia,” I tell her, and she blinks, little startled. “Do you know where she is?”

  “Oh, Ginny! Yes, she’s working tonight,” Daphne says. “But she’s in the back office with our manager right now.”

  I smile at her. “And where is that office, exactly?”

  “Oh, Mr. Anders,” she says. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go back there.” Her eyes flick to a door in the back corner, back by the restrooms.

  “Everything’s fine, Daphne,” I tell her. “If anything happens, you can just say that I blew past you; nobody would bat an eye at the idea of a pushy lawyer in a restaurant.” I give her a smile and wink. I’m already moving toward the back office door before she responds. Nobody questions my direction, nobody stops me on my way.

  I pause outside the manager’s office; I can hear a male voice through the door.

  “C’mon, Gin,” I hear a man say. “I told you, if you aren’t going to play ball with me, we have to talk about letting you go. It’s your last chance, babe. Nobody would have to know, it could be our little secret.” I recognize that voice; Tucker, the manager I detest so much.

  I feel sick, hot rage rise up in a wave and shove open the door. Ginny, my Virginia, is sitting in a crappy metal folding chair in front of a particleboard desk, her arms wrapped around herself defensively. Tucker, that piece of shit, has his hands on her shoulders, leaning over her possessively. She’s crying, biting her lower lip hard to keep from making any noise. My vision goes red.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I snarl, and Tucker looks up with a satisfying expression of horror. “Get. Your fucking hands. Off her.” He almost jumps back, and I advance, backing him against the wall. “You’ve got a female employee in your office, alone, visibly upset, and what sounds like the most flagrant fucking sexual coercion I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing,” I spit. Ginny looks up at my voice, and the sudden hope I see in her eyes is like someone dumped gasoline on a fire. I stalk forward until I’m inches from Tucker’s face. “I believe this merits a call to the ACLU,” I say. “I’m not a litigator, myself, but I’m certain that quite a few of my colleagues would be all too happy to pursue extremely expensive legal action on Miss Virginia’s behalf.”

  “I—it was just a joke, man,” Tucker stammers.

  “Shut. The fuck. Up,” I say, and he goes white. “Ginny,” I say, bending down to take her hands. “You’re in no shape to work. I’m taking you home
,” I tell her. It isn’t a request. “We’ll call this a sick day,” I say, staring at Tucker’s frightened face. “You can reschedule your shift tomorrow. Can’t she?” I say, and he nods frantically. “Good,” I say. “I’m glad that we’ve resolved this issue. I don’t want to have this conversation with anyone again.”

  I help Ginny from the chair and wrap an arm around her, steadying her as we get her coat. She’s trembling, still biting her lip hard, but she keeps her head up, doesn’t make a scene as we pass through the restaurant. I’m proud of her.

  Once we exit into the freezing air, though, Ginny bursts into the tears she was holding back. I pull her close and back against the side of the building, drawing both of us out of the flow of traffic and wrapping her up in my coat. She sobs, leaning against my body, her small fists balled up against my chest. She really is tiny.

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobs, and I can feel her shaking.

  “Shh,” I say, stroking her hair. “It’s all right, go ahead and cry.”

  We stand there together, me holding her while she weeps, for a few minutes. After a little while, the initial sobs quiet, and she sniffles, calming herself. “How long has it been that bad?” I ask her gently. “How long has he been sexually harassing you?”

  “Tucker?” Ginny says and sniffles. “He’s been trying to get me to… to sleep with him for the past six months or so, almost since I started working there. But he didn’t—he wasn’t so pushy about it that I thought he’d tell me I had to—” She breaks off, choking back a sob. “He said he’d fire me,” she finishes. “A lot of waitresses would be happy to have my job, he said. If you hadn’t showed up, I don’t know—” Ginny breaks off again, looking up at me with those big, wet eyes, and I squeeze her gently.