“It’s new for all of us, and we need ground rules, but we need to make this our own, like us. Sometimes we act really stupid and laugh a lot,” Derek said.
“Fair enough,” I said, “Practice safe sex, keep it exclusive, be honest, meet for brunch,” I said.
“Yep, that sounds perfect,” Brett said.
Derek chose that moment to tickle me. I doubled over in his lap, my foot connecting with his jaw as I kicked and wriggled helplessly.
“Shit, okay she has boundaries. No tickling,” he said.
“Sorry,” I said, “I can’t control my feet when someone tickles me. It’s like fight or flight,” I said with a giggle. Derek hauled me against his chest, eyes darkening. I felt the tug of attraction in my stomach, and my arm went around his neck as he lowered his mouth to mine.
“Mmm,” I said as his tongue slid in my mouth, my hand threading through his silky hair.
I coiled into his lap, pressing myself against him, reveling in every sensation that bloomed inside me.
“Somebody’s thirsty,” Brett said sarcastically.
I was aware that he got up, that he leaned over the pair of us. He touched my back. I reluctantly broke my kiss with Derek to look at him.
“No pairing off, either,” he said. I nodded.
“That’s fair. I know how I’d feel if the two of you went off together and locked me out,” Derek said.
“Me, too,” I said, and Brett rolled his eyes.
“That won’t be a problem,” he assured me.
“I’m serious. I don’t want to cause trouble between you. I don’t want there to be jealousy,” I said carefully, although my nipples were hard and my whole body wanted to get back to what Derek and I had been doing—making out in the chair. His hand still cupped my backside, fingers stroking there absently in a way that set me on fire.
“Agreed,” Brett said, and Derek nodded. I got off Derek’s lap, scrambling to my feet without much grace.
“I’m going to go to bed. By myself. Now that we have cleared things up a bit,” I said
I stood on tiptoe to kiss Brett good night. I thought he might grab me possessively or something, but he accepted the gentle kiss and went to his room. I dropped a soft kiss on Derek’s lips as well and went to bed. I slept well, looking forward to spending more time with my guys, in and out of bed. And possibly a sectional couch.
15
I got called to Liz Markham’s office the next day. I was ready to defend my research like it was a dissertation. I knew my topic. I wanted to impress her with my knowledge, prove I could do more. I entered her office and took a seat. When she finished typing at her computer, she turned to me and removed her reading glasses. I tried to wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. She was, after all, my supreme role model. I slanted my legs, knees together, hoping for the poise of Kate Middleton. A younger, clammy Kate Middleton.
“Now, Lynette, I reviewed your research before passing it along to the writer. She’s an excellent writer, incredible work ethic—she’s the pulse of our online content, in fact. She was very pleased with the depth of information you provided her. I was also pleased with what I read. Your summary was intelligent and well-written but brief. Of all things, I despise a flowery, overblown summary written by an intern who’s showing off. Your professionalism has paid off,” she said.
I sat there, glowing under her praise. Though her face was stern, it was not unkind. I tried to think of a mature and professional response to this, something other than clapping my hands, hugging her, and saying thank you a thousand times like a fangirl.
“I appreciate that,” I said, “What do you consider areas where I could improve? I would love to have constructive criticism from you if you have time.” I did not, in fact, want constructive criticism. I wanted her to spend the next hour repeating how fabulous I was and how my work was awesome. But it seemed like the right thing to say—like I was willing to learn and develop my writing to reach her standard. I wanted to sound the opposite of show-offy, like the ideal candidate for a paid position.
“I’m glad you asked. I realize it was purely an expository assignment, and you treated it as such. But you were rather conservative in what you included. There was no mention of the hazards of IUD dislodgment from certain sexual practices or any discussion of effect on sexual pleasure. It was, in a sense, the perfect summary but rather narrow. I’d like to see you be a bit more creative.”
“I see. I’ll make note of that and do some writing exercises to try and be more open minded in my work,” I said, a little confused.
Had she wanted me to make IUDs and lawsuits sexy? What kind of sexual practices was she talking about? I hadn’t thought she’d criticize me for being too objective and professional in my summary. It was like being told my resume looked good but that I should’ve included a picture of my boobs.
“You appear puzzled. What I’m saying is that you need to expand your horizons. If your CV is to be believed, and I suspect it is, you’re a nice girl from a small town who’s in the city for the first time. It’s a charming if familiar narrative. To write for a glossy or its online presence, you need to be more adventurous. Experience life.”
“Are you saying I’m too young?” I asked.
“I’m saying you seem younger than you are because you’re rather wholesome and inexperienced. I’m not suggesting anything drastic, merely that you read more widely and acquaint yourself with topics and lifestyles that are unfamiliar. I’d be happy to recommend some online publications that deal with issues of diversity, the spectrum of sexuality.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I said a little tightly. I knew I had a sheltered life, that I was the girl next door. But being told that it was a shortcoming by Liz Markham made me bristle.
“I’ll have Celia send you a reading list. In the meantime, live fully. Explore neighborhoods you haven’t visited, try food you’ve never heard of. I’d like you to give me a list of three prospective topics for an article. Something that would set you outside the confines of your experience. A subject you consider edgy and intriguing. Have the topics by the end of the week for a spec article. I want you to push your boundaries, be less by-the-book. Your research skills were impressive and thorough. I want to see what else you can do. We’ll meet Thursday afternoon to discuss. This is your opportunity, Lynette. I’m willing to help you.”
“I—thank you. That’s amazing,” I said, now feeling less put off and more excited.
“I will mentor you through polishing up the finished product for possible feature in a future issue.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, standing and shaking her hand, “I won’t disappoint you.”
I left feeling elated. She wasn’t saying I was too young or too simple. She was giving me a chance to spread my wings. I wanted to impress her, wanted her to be astounded that I was so dedicated, so bright and creative. I couldn’t wait to tell the guys.
Celia wasn’t at her desk when I left the office, so I just texted Ainsley who sent a string of happy emojis , stars, and flamenco dancers as her response. I messaged Derek and Brett saying I’d buy them both a drink at the bar during my shift, that I had a reason to celebrate. A thrill of heat ran through me. I was turned on just thinking of them.
The fact was, that very morning I’d stumbled into Derek when he was wearing nothing but a towel. He was very muscular and still wet along his collarbone from the shower. I had wanted to lick the water droplets off his skin. Brett was right. I was awfully damned thirsty for a woman who’d gotten it from two men at once. But I wanted it. I had wanted Derek right then. If he would’ve broken the rule, taken me up against the sink just the two of us, I would’ve skipped my shower and gone filthy instead.
The night before, Brett had looked in on me before he went to sleep himself. When I heard the soft knock at the door, I had stopped what I was doing—had turned off my trusty rabbit—and pretended to sleep. I had been so tempted to stir, to fake waking up and reach for him. I wished he would come to me, wou
ld sit on the edge of my bed, brush my hair back from my face and reach under the covers. His long, wicked fingers working between my slick folds. I wanted it. I wanted them both, all the time.
I would’ve said six months ago that it was impossible to have feelings like that for more than one man, that the giddy attraction, the heady arousal were meant to be for one man only, a monogamous ideal. An ideal clearly created by a woman who wasn’t lucky enough to be spoiled by two gorgeous cops who met every want and need she had ever dreamed of.
I was ready to believe that I was the luckiest girl in the world. I’d been given the chance to be mentored by my role model and have a chance at being published in Envy. I lived with two sexy men, protective and strong, who wanted nothing more than to make me feel amazing. It was a very good thing they were both interested, because after one night between Brett and Derek, there was no battery powered toy in the world that could take their place. Everything left me wanting more and more of the real thing. Only my hot cops could satisfy me.
16
At the bar, I was really on my game. I raked in tips because of my energy and attitude. I was always a professional, but some nights I was happier and more enthusiastic than others. This was a night I was at the top of my game. Jason asked if I was trying to seduce him and then laughed.
“What?” I said, genuinely confused.
“Come on. Nobody could resist you when you’re like this. First off, we have the hair down instead of the all-business ponytail. Then there’s the laugh and the glowing, open smile that says you’re up for anything. No offense, but you look highly fuckable tonight.”
“Now why would that be offensive for my coworker to say that? Hmm…let me refer to that sexual harassment pamphlet they gave me the first day I worked here,” I said, elbowing him.
“You’re the one who said ‘what?’ like you had no clue the kind of vibe you’re giving off. Did you have a kick ass day or what?”
“Yeah. I got the sickest chance at work today. Not that mixing margaritas here isn’t my ultimate goal,” I said.
“I get it. I get it. Not everyone loves this place the way I do,” he said, “Also, fuckable is a word I never used before Cammie started describing your roommates that way. With me standing right beside her.”
“They are, aren’t they?” Cammie said, leaning in to the conversation, “Highly fuckable men. I bet the quiet one, the really big one, he uses his teeth.” She made a growling sound. I laughed but flushed red, and Jason rolled his eyes.
Cammie served a few customers while I polished glasses and prepped extra fruit garnishes because it looked like a busy night. Jason nudged me away from the cutting board.
“I’ll do fruit this time. You go get some tips. You’re radiating light back here, smiling to yourself like the cat that got the cream. Dazzle the customers. The oranges can’t appreciate it.”
I grinned at him and practically bounced over to a group that had sat down at one end of the bar. I showed them the appetizer menu and took their orders. One of the guys flirted with me, and I laughed, “I’m so taken, but you’re very sweet,” I told him.
“So taken, are you?” Derek’s voice came from behind the group.
I felt the thrill of recognition along my skin. Derek’s voice did things to me. And made me want to do naughty things to him. It was like I felt a shimmer in the air when he entered the room, a sensation like a fingertip tracing up my bare spine when he spoke. I thought for a yearning, dry-mouthed moment that he could possibly make me come with just his voice. I knew my eyes fluttered shut for a second just riding the feelings washing over my body.
“You have a break coming up?” Derek said as I served him a beer with shaky hands. I was beaming, blushing, nervous as hell. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
I wanted to talk to him on my break. I wanted to wrap my legs around his handsome face and let him go to town on me with that pretty, filthy mouth of his. We had agreed no hook-ups, no one-on-ones. So I’d have to keep my thirst to myself until both men were available. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of what was turning rapidly into a private porno reel.
“Do you need ten minutes?” Cammie asked archly, “I can cover for you. You can use the staff bathroom.”
“Stop!” I said, “We’re going to talk.”
“Yeah, make sure you lock the door when you talk. If Jason has to pee, I don’t want him walking in on that talk.”
“I’m not going to hook up at the bar!” I whispered to her fiercely.
“You so would if you had the chance. And I’m giving you the chance. Come on. Jason and I have done it.”
“After hours?”
“Yeah, but mostly when we first got together, drummer boy the ex-bartender would cover during slow times so we could hook up. Here’s a tip. Prop your foot on the sink.”
“I’m never using that bathroom again,” I laughed, “And I’m not due for a break for an hour.”
“Go,” she said, shooing me away.
“Where’s Brett?” I asked Derek when I rounded the bar to join him.
“He’s out on a call. He’s covering for one of the other guys this week.”
“Saving kittens from trees?”
“Something like that,” Derek said, finishing his beer, “He’ll be in soon.”
“Ok. Good. I want to talk to both of you. I have happy news.”
“You look like the fourth of July out there. You’re lit up.”
“Thanks,” I said, “Everybody keeps telling me that. Do I usually look super depressed or something?”
“No, you’re just even more beautiful when you’re happy. I like to think I have a little something to do with that,” Derek said, touching my face in a way that made me feel bashful and excited all at once.
“I wouldn’t describe anything about you as little,” I said, smoothing his shirt just for an excuse to touch him.
Derek had changed from his uniform into jeans and a t-shirt, but it wasn’t one of those goofy pun t-shirts that guys wore. It was a shirt with the logo for his union on it and a police insignia. It was somehow just as hot as seeing him in uniform, but even better because of the way the gray knit fabric clung at his shoulders and showed the contour of hard muscle in his sculpted chest. I liked touching him. Liked the breathless flutter of my pulse in my throat when he came near me, liked the chills that rose on my flesh when his hand came up and brushed against the back of my arm just below my shirt sleeve. Heat pooled in my abdomen, in my black panties. To tell the truth, God, I wanted him right then. Wanted all of him, and also wanted in some way to reassure myself that a one on one pairing was all I needed. That I wasn’t the kind of girl who did three-ways. I wanted Derek because he was hot and a great lover, but also to prove something to myself. I bit my lip and he groaned softly.
“God, don’t do that or I’ll try to get you to sneak off to that staff bathroom.”
“You heard that?” I said.
“Your friend whispers really loud,” he grinned, “But not quite as loud as you when you’re about to come.” His mouth brushed my ear and I was so turned on I grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
“Stop it,” I said through gritted teeth, “Or come to the back room with me. I’m so keyed up anyway, and then you talk to me like that I’m going to lose my mind.”
I led him to the back room, a small staff lounge with an old leather couch, a TV and some cases of beer stacked in one corner. As soon as he saw the bathroom door, he pulled me in there. He shut the door and locked it, pulled me to him by my waist and kissed me.
“Shh,” he said, as I was about to protest, “we won’t go all the way. I know you need some relief. And I’ll let Brett have you first later so it’s fair,” he said.
I would have agreed to anything just to get his hands or mouth on me. I nodded.
My chest rose and fell heavily, like I’d been running, as Derek raised my shirt. His fingertips skimmed my belly and I felt a hard clench of my inner muscles, a flutter of desire so stro
ng I nearly collapsed against him. He pushed my shirt up and grinned.
“No bra. God, I’m crazy about you,” he said, looking like a man about to feast on something delectable.
He lowered his head, capturing one pink nipple in his mouth.
“Ah!” I said, a high-pitched keen on the exhale of my ragged breath as he pulled hard on my nipple, his velvet tongue soothing it before he drew on it again. Everything in my being concentrated at that one spot where he was creating a deep, steady pull like gravity on my sensitive flesh. The scrape of his teeth, the stroke of his fingers on my other nipple as he sucked drove me wild. I raked my fingers through his thick hair. He pushed his knee between my thighs and I started riding it greedily. Derek sent a spike of almost painful pleasure down my body when he pinched my nipple between his thumb and finger and tugged at it. I rubbed against him, humping his jeans-clad, rock hard thigh.
“More, more,” I whimpered. Answering my edgy plea, Derek put his mouth on mine, rubbing both nipples while his tongue drove in my mouth. I started to feel the sweet rush of a climax build, when a sharp knock came at the door.
“Open up,” barked Brett.
Derek and I broke apart. I pulled down my shirt, shaky. “I-I’ll be out in a minute,” I stammered, feeling caught out.
“No, dammit, open the door. I know you’re both in there.”
Derek’s eyes met mine, and I nodded. He unlocked the door and I stepped back toward the toilet so he could open it in the small space. Brett seemed to fill the doorway, looming over us.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be sorry,” Derek said, “We weren’t going all the way. I was just getting her off on her break so we could take our time later.” He shrugged.
“We said no pairing off,” Brett said, “If she needs to get off, we’ll take care of it together.”
I gave a nervous giggle. He wasn’t angry with us, just wanted to join in. The room seemed so tiny, so overcrowded with three of us.
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