Stitches_A Ménage Romance [MFM]

by Sam Mariano

  “He’s in a precarious place right now, so we’ll see what he wants. I think he’d rather have you alone. And if he does, I need you to know something.”

  “All right,” she says, easily.

  “I’m not sure what he’ll say to you. Obviously Ashley’s death is a shock to us all, but he seems to be having difficulty accepting it. Accepting how it happened.”

  I watch confusion darken her pretty face. I’m only telling her partial truths and they don’t entirely make sense. Since she has a brain, she notices, but she trusts me enough to accept if I’m not telling her, I have a good reason. I don’t want to abuse that trust, I just want to protect her. Running the back of my hand along her jaw, I search for a concise way to explain without raising any alarms.

  “Griff knows Ashley has been coming after us, trying to hurt you, trying to take what belongs to us. He knows she wanted to hurt our family, and he knows I’m not a man who stands by and lets someone get away with that. It seems like his inability to accept her suicide together with that… he’s concocted this idea that perhaps I was involved.”

  Her eyes widen slightly, but she remains relaxed in my arms. She doesn’t move an inch, still holds my gaze, still accepts and enjoys my touch.

  Warmth rushes over me. Griff may be wavering, but Moira doesn’t doubt me.

  “He thinks you were involved in Ashley’s death?” she asks, apprehensively.

  “I don’t know if he really thinks that, but the idea has crossed his mind. His head is a mess today, that’s all. But if that’s where his head is, he might say something to you, and I wanted you to be prepared.”

  “I don’t think he would say something like that to me.”

  “He might.” I stop caressing her jaw and cradle it in my hand instead, pulling her into my chest.

  Still, Moira argues. “He may feel like lashing out because he’s in pain, but he isn’t going to try to hurt you, Sebastian. He loves you.”

  “He loves you,” I state.

  “And you,” she insists, frowning.

  “I know, but… he’s having trouble remembering that right now. In any case, I need you to be prepared for the worst. It’s difficult enough with Griff waffling on me today; I can’t have him getting in your head, too.”

  Scowling, Moira pulls out of my embrace just long enough to climb up on her knees. Now she leans in, now hers is the hand cradling my face. Her ordinarily soft blue eyes flare with passion. Her tone is firm and unyielding as she swears, “That will never happen. Never. There’s nothing anyone could ever say to take me away from you.”

  I’ve always been confident in that, almost to the point of arrogance, but her words make me feel better, nonetheless.

  Instead of telling her that, I smile tenderly. “I know.”

  “You better,” she says playfully, running her hand down my chest. “I’m yours forever, Mr. St. Clair. There’s no getting rid of me.”

  I draw her face close and brush my lips across hers. “Good. What’s the point of life if I don’t have you?”

  Nuzzling her face into my neck, she assures me, “You will never have to find out.”

  30

  Griff

  Given the accusations I leveled at Seb today, the last thing I expect is for Moira to scamper into the guest room after I go to bed alone.

  I didn’t want to sleep in that bed with him tonight. I wasn’t sure how much sleep I would get, anyhow. My guilt over Ashley’s death still hangs heavily on my mind, but when Moira creeps in and approaches my bedside in a skimpy, see-through scrap of fabric, I welcome the distraction.

  “Want some company?” she asks, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

  My gaze drops to her breasts as she does, the way they bounce. I just got off a couple hours ago, but my dick still responds. If it ever stops responding to her perfect fucking body, I’ll just assume I’m dead.

  Pulling back the blanket, I pat the empty side of the bed. “Always room for you.”

  With a little smile, she climbs in beside me and snuggles right up against my side. “I guess Sebastian was right.”

  Just hearing her say his name causes me to tense. “About what?” I ask, a little too harshly.

  Watching me closely, she says, “He didn’t think you’d want to sleep together in our bed tonight. I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone.” Shrugging, she says lightly, “Good thing we didn’t put any money on it.”

  “I’m not alone,” I point out. “I have you.”

  “You’re not alone because you have us,” she corrects, immediately. “Both of us. I’m the only one in this bed right now, but make no mistake, you have us. Why are you pushing him away?”

  “I’m not,” I mutter, since she clearly does not approve. “I just needed some space from him tonight.”

  “He wants to be there for you, too, you know,” she offers, her tone a bit softer.

  I roll my eyes. “Sure, now he does.”

  “He’s been there for you all along, Griff. Sebastian has been doing everything he could to help you sort this mess out. I understand you’re upset, but I don’t understand why you’re taking it all out on him. That’s not fair.”

  “You think that because you don’t know everything,” I mutter.

  “I know he loves you. I know he wants what’s best for you, for all three of us, and whatever you think he’s done to hurt you, I am sure that was not his intention. Occasionally, he steamrolls over feelings without noticing, but it doesn’t happen a lot. He doesn’t mean to do it. I’m sure he’s sorry, even if he hasn’t said so.”

  Even though I’ve done the same damn thing many times before, it irks me that she’s making excuses for him. He can literally get away with murder, and still he has Moira fooled into admiring the hell out of him.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of his shit?” I demand. “Don’t you ever feel like telling him to just fuck off? He oversteps boundaries all the fucking time and we just deal with it, so he takes a little more. He doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone else wants.”

  Her brow furrows as she either processes my frustrations or tries to formulate a response to them. Finally, she says, “I’m not sure that’s a fair take away, but... Personally, no, I don’t get sick of his shit. Sebastian fits me like a glove, perfectly designed and stitched together to accommodate my every bend, every nook. I think I’m very blessed in that. I’m not sure most people ever find that. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. He doesn’t need the same things from you he gets from me. We all have different needs, and together, I think we meet all of them. Right?”

  “He can’t just take over the running of my life,” I tell her. “Sharing you, moving in here, doing all this… it only works for me if there are some boundaries. If he at least consults me before he makes big fucking decisions about my life.”

  She rubs my chest with casual tenderness. “Then talk to him about it. Or I can, if you don’t want to. Sebastian is a reasonable man, but he’s not a mind reader. This is like any other relationship, Griff. If something is troubling you, we have to know or we can’t fix it.”

  I can’t help scoffing. “How can you, of all people, say that? He controls every aspect of your life. I asked you if you wanted to have a baby with me, and you told me it was up to him. Come on, Moira.”

  “Because that’s what we like,” she states, looking at me like I must be oblivious not to see that. “Sebastian likes to have control, and I love to give it to him. Yes, he makes the big decisions—because I trust him to. I get so much out of it, I would hate for things to be any other way. An intimacy runs between us that’s so intense, so much more fulfilling, so much more important to me than weighing in on every little mundane thing. I don’t need that. I’m secure with myself and very happy with my decision to let him deal with the heavy lifting. He always does what’s right for us, so I don’t need to. Sebastian is a wonderful, capable man. He’s strong and smart, and he loves us. He wants to protect us. Sometimes… sometimes obstacle
s get in the way, and it takes a ruthless leader to make the hard call. I don’t want to make the hard calls. Do you?”

  I cock my head, frowning at her toward the end of that little speech. “Do you know?”

  “Know what?” she asks, innocently.

  I watch her for a moment, searching for some indication of what’s going on inside that pretty little head of hers, but she gives me nothing. A canvas of pleasantness. For the first time, I wonder if I haven’t underestimated sweet little Moira. She’s so mild-mannered in her habits, so sweet in her disposition, soft spoken and unapologetically domestic. She’s a nurturer who cooks and practices yoga. She reads books and doodles pictures of snowflakes for pleasure, for Christ’s sake. Sure, some of the things she likes sexually are pretty fucked up, but I assumed she liked what Seb taught her to like, despite her insistence that her likes were her own. Is Moira just kinky, or is there a hint of darkness in her I’ve missed? Just how much has Seb corrupted her?

  “Is there anything he could do to make you stop loving him?” I ask her.

  Her answer is immediate and firm, though her tone remains pleasant—like a schoolteacher reprimanding a pupil who stepped out of line. “No.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” she verifies.

  “What if he cheated?”

  Her confidence is unwavering. “He wouldn’t.”

  “What if he hurt someone?”

  She hesitates. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, I’m just… hypothetically.”

  Raising her hand and gesturing individually to the four walls surrounding us, she says, “The people inside this house are my top priority. Was he protecting one of them? If he was, then it’s unfortunate that happened, but I trust he did what he felt was right.”

  “What if he killed someone?” I ask.

  Now her gaze shifts to my chest. I’m not sure if I’ve upset her, but I know I’ve at least annoyed her. When her gaze returns to mine, her eyes are clearer, her face more open, but I can’t shake the feeling she closed some part of her off. She moves her body closer, sliding one smooth leg between mine.

  My stupid dick falls right into her trap, hardening almost instantly. Then she touches it and I’m gone. Her soft hand grips me and she brushes her sweet lips against mine. Her teeth come down lightly on my bottom lip and she tugs. My heartbeat kicks up, my stomach tightens with need, and suddenly the only important thing in the world is getting inside Moira.

  “I love you, Griff,” she tells me, dragging her lips along my jawline. “I just want to make you happy. I just want all of us to be happy together.”

  “I want that, too,” I say, struggling to focus with her fingers working magic between my legs.

  “Good,” she says, her blue eyes twinkling with approval. “That makes me so happy. I want us to be a family.” Leaning lower, pressing the soft mounds of her breasts against my chest, she says, “I do want you to put a baby in me, Griff.”

  My caveman instincts flare up. I reach for her neck, yanking her down so I can kiss her some more. “Yeah?” I murmur.

  “Yes,” she says, one hand still working my dick, one running up and down my neck. “Someday, when it’s time. But we’ll never get there if you and Sebastian can’t play nicely together. I adore you both. You love each other. People in relationships fight and that’s okay, but please don’t let stupid shit come between us. You know Sebastian can’t cope with that. He needs to know we’re always in his corner, even when we fight.”

  That pulls me halfway out of the lust fog she has me shrouded in. “Stupid shit? You think I’m overreacting? Blowing shit out of proportion? You think Ashley, the vainest woman either of us has ever met, shot a hole through the back of her skull?”

  Running a calming hand up my chest and across my bicep, she leans in and places a series of kisses on my pecs. “Of course I don’t think your feelings are unwarranted. You feel however you feel—with me. If you’re in pain, feel it. If you’re angry, feel it. If you need to vent it, please do. I don’t want you to live a lie or hold anything back. But you’re gonna have to let this one go, Griff. Ashley was poison. She was horrible to you while you were married, and even worse when you split up. She tried to hurt each and every one of us after destroying her own marriage. I absolutely feel for you, and if there’s some part of you that still loves or misses or mourns her, I completely get that. I support you no matter what. I want to be there for you. But we need to agree that Ashley was a troubled woman who got involved with some bad people, and if anything sinister happened to her, it was her own doing—not Sebastian’s.”

  “Even if it’s a lie?” I challenge, boldly.

  Her lips curve upward, but there’s not much humor there. “Especially if it’s a lie.”

  My stomach drops with her words, but then she lavishes more attention on my dick, grinding against me and moaning into my mouth until all sense of logic flees. Seb’s sweet little wife turns my brain right off, and by the time she’s done fucking me, I’m too tired and satisfied to think about anything but the feel of her warm body nestled against my side as she sleeps.

  31

  Moira

  I hum a little tune from the musical Annie as I reach into the refrigerator and gather the ingredients I need to make breakfast. I spread them all out across the granite surface, swaying over to the cupboard and grabbing my trusty chopping board.

  If Griff were up, he would help me chop the vegetables. I like doing it myself, but I enjoy doing it with his help, too. I don’t think I would take pleasure in Sebastian helping, even if he offered. They have very different roles for me, and while I love and appreciate Griff for every noble thing that he is, I don’t want my husband to be like him. I love Sebastian exactly the way he is.

  As I grab the knife and start to chop, I feel the powerful presence of my husband come up behind me. I feel him like a physical force, and even in this kitchen preparing breakfast, all of our clothing on, our bodies not even touching, he intoxicates me. The part of me that craves him every moment of every day comes alive and wordlessly beckons him nearer.

  He answers the call, his heat intensifying as he stops a mere inch from my back. Whether it’s more alive in him this morning, or just my imagination because of the things Griff and I discussed last night, I feel his edge of danger more keenly today. Strangely, it makes me feel safer.

  “Tomorrow, huh?” he murmurs, referencing the song I was just humming. Normally he lets me cook in peace, but I know he was a little tense about my spending the night with Griff last night, so he probably needs to check in. There’s nothing tentative in him, though, so he doesn’t test the waters like a normal man. He locks an arm around my waist and pulls me close. “Will tomorrow be a better day?”

  I lean back against him, soaking up his presence. “I hope so. Tomorrow I plan to wake up naked between my two favorite men, and that’s a hell of a way to start the day.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asks, with interest. “You talked to him, then?”

  I nod my head, bringing my knife down on the white head of cauliflower. “Yep. I’ve got a handle on everything. Don’t worry. He just needs a little time. He’ll be fine.”

  “Mm, you’re the best wife a man could ever hope for.” Sebastian leans in and kisses my cheek appreciatively. The scent of him—his innate smell, the spice of his aftershave—fills me with longing. Food be damned, I drop the knife and push back the board, turning in his arms.

  Sebastian was the most handsome man I had ever seen when we first met, and as I got to know the incredible man that he is, my attraction to him only intensified. I don’t know if it’s because I spent a night away from him for the first time since we first moved in together, but he’s never looked sexier to me than he does right now. The unapologetically confident curve of his perfect lips, the tender sense of ownership in his gorgeous blue eyes as he looks at me, the way his black suit jacket falls, the way his muted blue shirt hugs his muscular body—everything about this man is my picture of pe
rfection. He’s not wearing a tie today. My hand drifts along his chest where it should hang. A pang of regret shoots through me as I realize I wasn’t there to tie it for him this morning, so he must not have bothered putting one on. God, I missed him. One night and I feel like I’ve been away for a week.

  My hands creep up over those sexy shoulders and wind around his neck. Gazing up at the man I’ll always feel lucky to call mine, I inform him, “I’ve decided nights away from you should be reserved for very infrequent, special occasions. Death of a loved one, birthday—end of list.”

  Sebastian smirks. “Missed me, huh?”

  “So much,” I murmur, pulling myself up to kiss him.

  Part gratitude and probably partially because he missed me in his bed, his touch is greedy and aggressive this morning. He grabs my ass and pulls me against him. He’s hard, and excitement shoots through my veins like a bullet train.

  “Get a room.”

  I gasp, pulling back, as Griff’s voice suddenly rings out from across the room. I didn’t think he was awake yet. I crept out of bed to shower, get dressed, and come make breakfast for Sebastian, but we were going to let Griff sleep in since he had such a hard day yesterday. I hope he didn’t hear what I just said.

  Offering up a warm smile, I say, “Good morning, handsome.”

  Instead of letting me go now that Griff is in here, Sebastian leans in and starts kissing my neck. Given how pissy it made Griff last night, I watch him. He flicks a glance our way, his gaze lingering for a few seconds, but he proceeds to the cabinet above the coffee maker and grabs himself a mug.

  As much as I enjoy my husband’s affection, I know he’s just testing Griff’s reaction right now. That should make me enjoy it less, but nope. Eventually, he concludes Griff is in a better place today and he gives me one last kiss on the lips before heading to the table and leaving me to make breakfast.