Three Brothers: A Menage Romance

by Samantha Twinn

  He traces a line along my cheek and tips my chin up toward him. “Small bed. I’ll leave you to sleep,” he says, his voice filled with affection. He plants a kiss on my nose and turns to leave.

  Reid returns wearing dark blue flannel pajama pants, his chest bare. He lies down facing me, and in that small bed, Finn, Reid and I cuddle.

  I realize another major failure of my fantasies. Not only had I not imagined being with more than one Nolan brother at a time, I hadn’t given a thought to cuddling. Our bare torsos all touching, arms entwined, I am surrounded, warm, safe, and cherished, and in that blissful state, I drift off to sleep.

  12

  We Don't Need Complications

  I sleep deeply, but wake in the morning with a start. I was dreaming, dreaming — oh my god, I wasn’t dreaming. I slept with them. All of them. What have I done?

  Images come to me in bits and pieces, but then the whole night plays out in my memory. I initiated it. I invited it. I’ve ruined everything.

  It takes me longer to remember what day it is. Monday. I don’t have work, thank god, but the guys will be heading out, Mitchell and Reid will anyway, and maybe if I catch them I can apologize and explain, and somehow, beyond reason, set things back to how they’re supposed to be.

  I fling the covers back to discover that I’m naked. Reaching up I find that my hair is matted and tangled, and when I move, I’m sore in unusual places. Oh god.

  It’s very tempting to cover up again, to burrow under the covers, stay here until the house is quiet under midday sun, and then run. But to where, I don’t know.

  Would it be easier on the guys if I did run? Are they feeling as awkward and regretful as I am? I owe it to them to apologize. Then, if I need to, I’ll just keep my distance until I can figure something out. This house is big enough that it should be possible to avoid them.

  I pull a robe around me and stick my head into the hall, making sure I can get to the bathroom without seeing one of them. When I look down the hall, my focus goes straight past their rooms, to the closed door of my mom and Michael’s bedroom.

  My mom. And Michael. How could I have done this? In their home, I slept with my stepbrothers.

  The upstairs is completely quiet, but I’m haunted by the memory of my moans and cries from last night. How could I have done that, and in this house? Just doors down from where my mom and their father had once slept?

  A wave of nausea propels me across the hall to the bathroom, where I quickly push the door shut behind me. I need to talk with them before I leave but I can't do that looking and smelling like sex, so I blast the hot water and climb into the shower.

  If only I could just scrub it all away, and make it all disappear. But as my hands slide over my body, other memories follow. Touches, kisses, caresses. Last night was amazing, and along with regret, I'm hit with an intense sadness over the fact that it can never happen again.

  I wish it hadn't happened, but I also can't deny that part of me is glad it did. How could I fully regret such pleasure, such good feelings, not just physical feelings, but emotional ones.

  Then I'm hit with the fear of those emotions. If the situation was different, I could fall for them so hard. Any of them. All of them. I could love them. I do love them, but it's so complicated, and I can't handle complicated. I'm just learning to handle everyday life again. What do I do with regret/not regret/sorrow/love/lust/fear/embarrassment/fill-in-the-blank with every contradictory feeling you can think of.

  My head is a jumble and I want to cry, but I refuse. I need to pull myself together, talk to the guys, and try to fix the mess I’ve made.

  They've been so good to me, and I repay their kindness by being reckless and wild, and inviting turmoil that none of us needs.

  Maybe if we can all just agree it was a mistake, we can put it behind us.

  I throw on clothes, run a comb through my damp hair, and cautiously stick my head into the hallway again. Reid is leaning against the opposite wall.

  “Good morning,” he says, wearing a lazy smile and the same pajama pants from last night.

  I stare at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Morning,” I say finally.

  “How are you?” he asks.

  I let out an impatient sound. How can I even begin to answer that? “Where’s everyone else?” I ask instead of answering his question.

  As Reid tells me that Mitchell's downstairs, Finn comes toward us from his room. Instead of freaking out in the shower, I should have prepared myself. With no idea what to say, I’m distressed, and it must show on my face.

  “What's wrong, April?” Finn asks.

  Beyond him, I see the closed door of our parents’ room again and I feel it like a physical blow. “Can we talk downstairs?” I say.

  Concern grows on both of their faces.

  “Sure,” Finn says.

  “I'll get dressed and be down in a minute,” Reid says.

  I duck into my room to return my robe. A quick glance at my rumpled bed is enough to make me hang my head.

  What can I say to them that can make this okay? Even if things can return to how they were, I'll always know what we did and how much it would have upset our parents.

  I hear Finn go downstairs and I wait. I don't want to face them until they're all together. I sit on the bed and stare out the window without seeing anything.

  Finally I hear Reid go by, and after a minute I take a deep breath and follow. I'm relieved to see that someone has picked up the Twister mat, though the bright, happy box is still out on the coffee table.

  In the kitchen, Mitchell is standing next to the counter, hands at his sides. Reid and Finn sit at the table with their mugs of coffee. All three of them are looking at me expectantly. I have a hard time meeting their eyes.

  “I know you need to leave soon,” I say, glancing toward the clock. “ I just wanted to say that… last night should never have happened, and I'm sorry.”

  Reid starts to speak but I hold my hand up as I take a step backward, hoping to exit soon. “I shouldn't have had so much wine, but I know that's no excuse. I thought I was doing better lately but apparently grief has me making bad decisions. That's all I can think of to explain my lack of judgment.”

  Reid tries to talk again but Mitchell speaks over him. “Last night was a result of poor judgment?” he repeats.

  “Of course,” I say. “A lapse in judgement.” Surely they agree with that.

  “You’re writing off your night with us as a bad decision?” Mitchell sounds defensive as he confirms what I've said.

  “It was great, I'm not saying it wasn't…” I manage to look each of them in the eyes. I see a mix of surprise and displeasure among them. “But it was a bad idea,” I continue. “It shouldn't have happened.”

  “I disagree,” Mitchell says.

  “Me too,” Reid says.

  I didn't expect disagreement. Regret maybe, and tons of awkwardness, but I was sure they'd agree it shouldn't have happened. I go still, looking between them, then looking down, with no idea what to say.

  “We've all been having a rough time,” Finn says. “But last night was wonderful.”

  “But it's not right,” I say. “It's not right for us to have been together.” I can't bring myself to voice the words that are throbbing in my head: What would our parents think?

  “Why not?” Reid says. “Why shouldn't we have a little joy? We're not hurting anybody.”

  Things are quiet for a long moment, our feelings all hanging in the cool air of the morning.

  Finally, Mitchell breaks the silence. “I'll admit, it was… unexpected. We've never done anything like that… together. But I won't ever say I regret it.”

  He’s clearly hurt, and my heart breaks.

  “I care about all of you,” I say, my voice wavering. “You've been so good to me, you saved me—”

  Mitchell interrupts, and speaks harshly. “Please don't tell me you slept with us out of some misguided sense of gratitude.”

  “No, no! I'm
not saying that at all. But I don't want what we have to get messed up by one night’s mistake. I shouldn't have complicated things.” Tears sting my eyes but I fight hard against them.

  Finn jumps up and folds me into his arms. I take comfort for a brief moment — he feels so good and smells like home — but I can't go there. I push away gently.

  “I care about all of you, but we don't need complications in our life,” I say.

  “I'm all for this sort of complication,” Reid says, standing and stepping toward me. “I think we could all use more happiness in our lives, and if we're making each other happy, whose business is it? And if we're having fun, what harm is there in it?”

  “We care about you too, April. I hope that's obvious. Last night just felt right,” Finn says.

  Mitchell leans back against the counter but has me pinned in his gaze from across the room. “Do you only regret it because you think it's wrong? Did you enjoy it?”

  My cheeks flush as select scenes flash through my mind. “It was wonderful. I never meant to say that it wasn't.”

  Finn steps close again and tips my chin up. “Then why shouldn't we be together?”

  Reid wraps his hand around my waist. “We can have a good time. It doesn't have to be complicated.”

  Finn rubs my bottom lip with his thumb and looks into my eyes for silent permission. When I soften, he leans in and kisses me tenderly.

  When he pulls back, Reid turns me toward him and curls my toes with his kiss. I love these men. Being close to them pushes thoughts of our parents’ disapproval far from my mind. Right now, being with them seems as easy and simple as breathing.

  I look over at Mitchell, who's watching from a distance. When I hold my hand out to him, he’s next to me before I can blink.

  “We want you to be happy,” he says before he covers my mouth with his.

  And in this moment, in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the three men I love, with all of their arms wrapped around me, I truly am.

  That night at dinner, things feel surprisingly normal. Reid cracks jokes, Mitchell and Finn discuss business plans, and we talk about summer’s approach.

  I breathe a sigh of relief that things aren't awkward and uncomfortable.

  After dinner, the guys sit in the living room as they often do, but no one turns on the TV.

  “I'm going upstairs… to bed… if anyone wants to join me,” I say. Without a word, Mitchell scoops me up in his arms, Finn and Reid follow, and the four of us have more fun together.

  13

  Consumed By My Desire

  We come together almost every night over the next couple of weeks. Like the beginning of a new relationship, we can't get enough of each other.

  It's not always sex — I don't think my body could handle quite that much of a good thing (times three!) — but we’re always together in some intimate way, having fun and making each other feel good, physically and emotionally.

  I often think back to the hypothetical “who would I kiss?” game that I played at the wedding when I first met them, and I can’t believe that I didn’t have to choose. How lucky am I?

  In the past, I’d only thought of relationships as being between two people, but everything between the four of us feels so natural and effortless. Sometimes one of the guys sleeps with me; other nights three of us cuddle until I fall asleep.

  I thought I knew them pretty well, but I'm thrilled to find new private sides to them — Mitchell is uncharacteristically talkative when it's just the two of us, lying back to front, drifting off to sleep; Reid shows a rare serious side when he's bringing me to orgasm; and then there’s silly stuff that makes me laugh, like Finn always having cold feet in bed.

  Though I still have conflicted feelings about the right and wrong of what we're doing, for the most part, I push those feelings down, and have a wonderful, amazing time with the three brothers. I know it’s a temporary situation, and I vow to enjoy it while I can.

  As each day goes by, I care about them more and more. I try to ignore the problems those feelings could present. I do my best to live in the moment, and what wonderful moments they are.

  Life at home is sweet, but at work, things happen that add to my doubts and threaten to chip away at my happiness.

  The café is a hotbed for local gossip. Who’s dating whom, who's fooling around with their neighbor, whose marriage is on the rocks. I can't help but overhear these conversations as I refill coffee cups and deliver food.

  It doesn’t take long before I develop a fear that somehow, people in this small town will find out what’s going on behind closed doors at our house, and they'll start talking about us. Maybe it's an irrational fear — we’re in the country, in a big house, it’s not as though people are walking by peering in our windows — but I can’t help but worry.

  What if, without thinking, I touch one of the guys in an overly familiar way when they come into Lucky’s to have lunch? What if someone can tell, just from how I look at the brothers?

  And then there's Ethan. He still comes into the café most days during his lunch hour from the bank. After Mitchell's interruption when he tried to ask me out, Ethan pulled back as if he feared Mitchell might show up at any moment, but little by little he started flirting again, holding eye contact, giving me curious smiles.

  Today, I find him seated in my section without his usual lunch partner, John.

  “Hi, April. How’s your day going?” There’s something different about him today. Something in his expression I can’t put my finger on, that puts me on alert.

  “Good, Ethan. How about you?”

  “Can’t complain,” he says.

  “Good to hear. What’ll it be today?” I ask.

  “Well, seeing as it doesn’t look like your stepbrother is around…” Ethan stretches to look past me, as if checking to see if Mitchell is hovering nearby. “I thought I’d try asking you out again.”

  My body goes tingly, but it’s not excitement at being asked out on a date; it’s mild panic about how to respond without being hurtful or drawing suspicion.

  ‘Sorry, I’m busy’ comes to mind, but Ethan hasn’t named a date, so that response would just be rude. I consider telling him I’m seeing someone else, but that cuts too close to my secret truth.

  “Oh,” I say. Brilliant. Just brilliant, April.

  Undaunted, Ethan continues. “Would you like to go to a movie tomorrow night?”

  When his expression changes, I can see that he’s already read a rejection in mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve decided not to date for a while. I just got out of a bad relationship before moving here, and I realized I’m not ready yet.” I stop myself before spewing a bunch of stuff about what a nice guy he is; that would only make my rejection worse.

  “That’s okay,” he says. “Forget all of that. My answer to your original question is: I’ll have a club sandwich, please.” He smiles so kindly that for a moment I almost regret turning him down.

  It doesn’t occur to me until later that accepting his invitation might have been an option. Consumed by my desire for Mitchell, Reid, and Finn, I’m not interested in going out with Ethan, but maybe I should have gone anyway.

  The guys have made it clear we’re just having a “good time.” Of course, there’s no commitment or exclusivity involved.

  That thought leads me down another path: Would they go out with other women? Lately, I see them every night, so I don’t think any of them are going out without anyone now, but we have no hold on each other. Should I be refusing dates just because I’m hooking up with them?

  It’s not as though we can have a future together, and I do want a future with a man someday — a house, a dog, babies. I want all of that, and I won’t get there by living and sleeping with three men who only offer me comfort and fun. Three men who I’ve fallen for… who I can’t stand the thought of ever leaving.

  I’ve told myself it’s just temporary, but for how long? How long should I let it go on?

 
; I vowed to get my life back together, but I’ve fallen into a holding pattern. I’m working a temporary job in a small town where I have no future. I’m sleeping with three brothers who I’d always considered to be off-limits. Our “relationship” is a secret. And though they’re good men who give me so much pleasure, being with them is not helping me stand on my own two feet. I’m not moving forward.

  I stew about things for the rest of my shift, but reach no conclusions.

  14

  Impossible

  When I collect my purse after work, I find a text message from Finn: Picnic tonight. Put on your swimsuit.

  Swimsuit? It’s been so long since I’ve needed one that I’m not sure I still have a swimsuit. Driving home, I think about where it might be, while I blast the air-conditioning and the radio. I hope I can find it, because it’s the perfect summer day for a swim.

  Luckily, I find my old red bikini in a box in my closet, and to my relief, it fits, though it’s skimpier than I remember. Maybe I’ve put on a few pounds enjoying Lucky’s good food.

  Another text comes in: We’ll be there at five. Be ready.

  Anything I should prepare? I ask.

  Just yourself, Finn texts.

  At five minutes ‘til, the guys come barrelling in, yelling their hellos and throwing off their work boots. I put on shorts and a t-shirt over my suit, and meet them in kitchen where they’re packing a cooler.

  “What’s the occasion?” I ask.

  Mitchell makes a frustrated sound and Reid says, “Rough day. Let’s just say we needed a break.”

  The guys change into swim trunks and t-shirts, grab towels, and we’re off. We pile into Finn’s car, Reid sitting in the back with me.

  “Where are we headed?” I ask.