by KB Winters
I could have caught up with her, it would take the fucking elevator forever to get here, but I didn’t. Her words stunned me. Made me ashamed of how I’d spoken to her when she was just honest about her feelings. I had no answers for her because I didn’t know what to think about what she’d said. She wanted me and Bryce both. That was surreal in itself, but that she liked us both when we were so different felt kind of special.
Annie was the brave one. She’d put herself out there to be judged by me—and Bryce—and we’d done it beautifully based on her reaction. “Shit!”
I didn’t have the answer and my plans for making love to Ann all day and night were shot to hell. I grabbed a bottle of eighty-year-old whiskey and got down to the very serious business of drowning my sorrows.
Merry fucking Christmas.
What a joke.
Bah-fucking-humbug.
Yeah, that was more like it.
Chapter Fourteen
Ann
Being depressed was never great but being depressed over the holidays sucked balls. I wasn’t one to give in to feelings of sadness because they didn’t really help anything after the first day. But I was on the third day of moping and being sad was officially pissing me off. It didn’t make me think of Jasper or Bryce any less, and it certainly hadn’t made their words sting less.
Especially Jasper’s.
Fuck them. I wished my parents weren’t on a vacation so I could hop in the car and make the four-hour drive to Eugene, Oregon. But they’d taken a Caribbean cruise to celebrate decades of marriage and I couldn’t begrudge them that.
I woke up on day three determined to do better, which started with a long relaxing bath filled with lilac bath bombs and then a quick breakfast with Tasha before hours of retail therapy.
“Next time you need retail therapy, call me after breakfast Ann. It’s so early I saw chicks doing the walk of shame!” Sunglasses firmly in place so she looked the part of the hard-partying stylish urbanite she was, Tasha pulled open the diner door and walked in. “Let’s see if we can get a coffee IV setup.”
“I’ll ask for the bucket, Tash.” It really was too early even though it was after ten, but I wanted a full day of shopping so I wouldn’t have to sit at home alone thinking about the two people I was determined not to think about. Not today. “I think I’m going to have a mimosa.”
“Me, too. After the first bucket.” Our coffee came and we sipped the hot liquid while browsing the menu, mostly in silence. “What’s going on, Ann?”
“Nothing.” The word came out on a sigh, a dead giveaway that I was lying, but I didn’t want to talk about it, not when I was trying hard to avoid talking about it. “What’s going on with you? Charlie should be back soon, right?”
The question worked like a charm as a beaming smile spread across Tasha’s face. “One week and we’ll be together again. Tell me I’m not crazy, Ann.”
“Oh you’re batshit crazy honey, and I love you for it, but no, I don’t think you’re crazy for this.” She stuck her tongue out and laughed. “You like him. Enjoy it.” Because rarely did those feelings last. But I didn’t tell her that.
“You mean that?”
I nodded at her hopeful expression. “I do. You can’t find that special amazing thing you want if you don’t at least try. I mean sure, it could all go to shit, look at me,” I told her with a self-deprecating smile. “But at least you’ll know you put yourself out there. You tried.”
“It’s so weird,” she shouted as the waitress dropped our food at the table and refilled her coffee. “We’ve talked nearly every day, we video chat about everything and nothing.” She leaned forward, looking to make sure there were no eager listeners nearby. “I even masturbated for him on Facetime!”
“You did not!”
She smiled a wicked grin. “I did!”
“Damn. Was it as hot as it sounds?”
“Hotter,” she gushed.
“You didn’t get your phone wet, did you?”
She laughed. “No silly. I didn’t squirt all over it or anything. I just played.”
“Then I’d say he’s at least earned a shot with the magnificent Tasha.”
“Thanks. I don’t know why I’m so freaked about this. He’s just a guy.”
I laughed at that. When it came to the good ones there was no such thing as ‘just a guy.’ “A guy you want even from thousands of miles away.”
“Yeah,” she smiled. A few minutes of silence had passed while we ate but Tasha was done gushing and her big brown eyes were focused squarely on me.
“What?”
“What’s wrong? You’re sad.”
Yeah, I was. “It’s nothing. I took your advice with Bryce and Jasper. Told them how I felt and what I wanted. They both, individually, accused me of playing games and trying to come between them even though that’s the last thing I’d ever want.” I poured the carafe of mimosas in our tall glasses and motioned for another while Tasha stared.
And stared. She looked at me for so long I felt the urge to squirm but I also wondered what she saw. “You like them.”
I frowned. “I do. I like them both, but it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters, Annie. It matters a lot.”
I shook my head. “No. But that’s fine. I’m a little bummed out about it but I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.” I made sure of it because in my business—hell in this world—a decent looking woman had to have a tough skin if she wanted to do more than fetch coffee and get down on her knees to get ahead.
“For what it’s worth, I think they’re both dummies. And I think they’ll regret it.”
“Thanks,” I told the waitress when she set another carafe in front of me. “I don’t care. Yeah, I’m sad about it but I’m also over it. They don’t want it so it’s over.”
“You sure about that?”
I nodded. “I’ve had three days to mull it over and yeah, I’m sure. In just a few days I’ll be perfectly fine.” I would make sure of it. “Maybe I should spend the rest of my time off someplace warm.”
“You can’t! You’re the one who wanted to go to that damn Christmas Eve ball because ‘it’s such a great networking opportunity,’” she said, mimicking my annoying determined voice.
Shit. I’d forgotten all about that damn ball. “I guess we both need something to wear, and you need something to welcome Charlie home properly.” And just like that, I kind of forgot all about my boy drama. At least for a little while. Shopping for pretty dresses tended to do that to a girl. “Ready?”
We paid the bill and bundled up before making our way back to the street and into the back of our waiting Uber. “Are you Allen my driver?” Tasha asked the hot guy behind the wheel before she turned to me. “You did tell them Pacific, right? I need high end fabrics, honey.”
“Yes, dear,” I mocked. Tasha was so uppity when it came to clothes.
We both got in, and the trip was quick this time of day. Soon, we were in the middle of Barney’s with piles of dresses going into our dressing rooms. “What color are you thinking?”
“It’s Christmas so I was thinking red.” It would stand out against my dark hair and pale skin.
“No. Ninety percent of the women there will have on red. You want to stand out sweetheart, and you can do it in this.”
“Shit.” The dress was absolutely perfect. Strapless silver with a sweetheart neckline and a mermaid silhouette, lightly beaded and lacy, it was pure sex with a touch of class. “Wow.”
“I am one of the most sought after stylists on the west coast, Annie.”
“I know, but damn. This dress is, the dress.” I’d never seen anything so gorgeous in all my life. “If it fits, I have my Christmas Eve ball gown.”
“Good, then you can help me. After we try this beauty on.”
We giddily went to the fitting room and I slid it on, smiling when it was a little loose in the hips. Problems like this, I could handle. “We just need it nipped in here, but if no one can fit me in, I think it still lo
oks good.”
Tasha was tapping on her phone and I snapped my fingers at her. She looked up with an annoyed scowl. “Ricardo will pick up the dress from here and give it to me in two days. You’re welcome.” She gave me a quick once over. “If you plan to eat your feelings, maybe we can skip alterations.”
“Bite your tongue, hooker!”
She laughed and circled me. “No, it’s great. And if you must wear red . . .”
“I have that cherry topaz set that will go perfectly and red booties.”
She grinned. “I taught you so well.” She wiped away a pretend tear and clutched her nonexistent pearls.
“That was disappointingly easy.” And not therapeutic at all.
“Don’t worry, it’ll take me forever to find the perfect dress for this.” She smacked her deliciously round ass and rolled her eyes.
Tasha, despite her hatred of all things exercise related, had a really great body. Small on top with a flat, nearly six pack, abs and hips and ass that would make J. Lo jealous, she never had a bad outfit day. “Yeah right. Your problem will be choosing from a dozen dresses.”
After I took off my dress and handed it to the sales girl, I felt the therapy starting to work. Flipping through colorful silks and patterns, sequins and lace and tulle, I began to feel better. Not good, but better than yesterday. Better than this morning.
But by the time we left the mall, hours later, I had a month’s salary worth of therapy hanging off my arms.
And I felt a little bit better.
***
When day five rolled around I was no longer sad. I was pissed. Who in the hell did they think they were, making me feel like some dirty tramp for having feelings for both of them? For wanting both of them? Was it that uncommon? They couldn’t see past their own macho bullshit to see how great we could be together. All three of us.
Every night I went to bed thinking about that one perfect night we had, shoving my hand between my legs and bringing myself orgasm after orgasm just thinking about how it felt to have two mouths on my breasts, two different hands inside me, bringing me pleasure. And how alive I felt with two powerful men thrusting inside of me, doing their best to make me scream with pleasure.
Even individually, sex was amazing. Off the charts. Jasper and Bryce were so different but in the best ways. I really thought we could all be happy together.
And we could, if they were on board. Hell, if one of them were on board it would be easier, but I could no more force them than they could force me to choose. That’s where the anger and sadness came from, because I knew I’d already said goodbye to them both.
So, I spent day five on the sofa watching movies, getting tipsy and eating a family size lasagna I made earlier. For breakfast. But halfway through White Christmas the anger faded and was replaced with . . . nothing. I was numb.
Well, I was drunk, numb and full of lasagna.
And horny. Night after night of using my hand or my collection of dildos and vibrators had done nothing to ease my ache for Bryce and Jasper. All it did was make me want them even more, which was just stupid. In fact, I knew I couldn’t have either one of them because I wanted them both.
At the same time.
So I drank and sang while Bob and Phil got their happy endings with the Haynes sisters along with a white Christmas. And when it was all over, I went to my room, pulled out the brand-new acorn-shaped butt-plug from the drawer and lubed it up. I slowly pushed it inside my bottom and sighed. I loved the full feeling it gave me. Next came the happy vibrating dolphin. This guy knew exactly where to go. I turned it on low and began to fuck myself, not wanting to come too fast.
I closed my eyes and dreamed it was Jasper and Bryce, one in my ass and one in my pussy, bringing me orgasm after orgasm until my thighs quivered and my body was slick with sweat, seeping on to fresh sheets. I imagined them both kissing me intimately, using two tongues and two hard cocks to bring me pleasure.
It was magnificent. Almost as good as reality.
Almost good enough I couldn’t imagine it was just a battery-operated replacement.
Chapter Fifteen
Jasper
“Why won’t you let me see you?” I couldn’t understand it, Ann said she wanted both of us, yet she wouldn’t agree to see me.
She sighed on the other end of the line. “Because it’s too hard.”
That shouldn’t have made me feel as good as it did, but dammit it was good to hear. “But it doesn’t have to be.”
When she spoke again, her voice was soft. Quiet. “But it always will be, don’t you see? I want you both and you don’t want that.”
“So, it’s all or nothing, is that it?”
She sighed and the sound ripped open something inside of me. “Yes. If I chose one of you over the other, your friendship will suffer. I can’t be the cause of that, not when it wouldn’t even make me happy. I know you think I’m playing games, but I’m not. I’m grown, and I know what I want. That’s why I think it’s best if we don’t talk anymore. Goodbye, Jas.”
Shit. Fuck. “No!” It was no use. The call ended and the screen went black. She was done. With me. With Bryce. With both of us.
And I hated it. For nearly a week I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way she felt so soft against my hard body. Her sexy feminine scent and her laugh, so musical in happiness, but so thick and husky in lust. And the way she knew what she wanted from us was like an aphrodisiac. She just knew.
I wanted her and I couldn’t deny it. Hell, it was only after she’d walked away from me and refused my calls that I realized how much she meant to me.
How much I wanted her. Desperately. Deeply. Frantically.
At least half a dozen times I was tempted to toss the phone in the trash and go to her apartment, force her to let me in so we could hash this out. Then I thought of Bryce and how gutted he’d feel, so I’d sit my ass back down with another bottle of whiskey.
Because as pissed off as I was about this whole fucking situation, the truth was that I could only admire Annie for her decision. Her determination not to come between us. Many women had tried over the years and every last one of them had failed.
I started drinking again, only this time I wanted company. I picked up my phone and tapped the face of my oldest friend. “Bryce, get your ass over here. I’ll have my driver take you home later. We’re getting drunk.”
“You better have some fucking food this time. And I mean real food, no Kobe sliders or caviar salsa. I want real fucking food. Pizza and subs and fries and wings.”
“All of that?”
“I just got off my second forty-eight.”
“All right. I’ll order something, just get here.” The call ended, and I scrolled through my phone in search of a nearby pizza joint. Bryce was a grown man who still ate like a college kid. Not that I could blame him, the boys at the firehouse cooked nothing but chili and tacos, nachos and beef stew. But I wanted a drinking buddy and I didn’t really give a shit what we ate, as long as it allowed me to keep drinking.
I’d finished half the bottle by the time Bryce arrived and finally, I felt good. “You look tired.”
He frowned. “Yeah, well you look drunk.”
“Not yet, but I’m on my way. Come, partake with me.” I motioned him forward and shut the door, following the sound of his heavy boots on my hard wood floors. “I’m drinking eighty-year-old scotch, but have whatever you want. There’s even beer in the fridge.”
Bryce looked at me. He really looked, studying me to see if he could find the scar. Find where I was hurting. “You all right, man?”
“No, I’m not fucking all right. She won’t see me, either. Says it’s too hard. She doesn’t want to come between us. What the fuck is that about?” His lips twitched when he came back from the kitchen with a beer. “Why is that funny?”
“She’s looking out for us.” Bryce wore a sweet, adoring look that made me want to punch him. “Told me our friendship was special and too magical to mess with. Magical. Wh
at the fuck is that?”
“That’s nice but it doesn’t change anything, does it?”
His shoulders fell. “I guess it doesn’t, but it does prove how amazing she is, that she would put our friendship above her own desires.”
Yeah, that was one, extremely charitable, way of looking at it. “What the fuck does amazing do if neither one of us can have her?” My voice thundered in the spacious room, but Bryce just smirked. “It doesn’t make us any closer to her.”
He shrugged and dropped down on the far end of the sofa, leaving the coffee table between us. “It’s just nice to know that someone out there thinks we’re both so fucking great, that our friendship is worth preserving. Other than us.”
And that was why she wanted him, because he was the best damn man I knew. He was more than my best friend—more like a brother. “Shit. We’re screwed, aren’t we?”
Bryce leaned back and took a long pull of his beer, savoring the taste for a long damn time before he spoke. “How can she be happier with both of us? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” I spent the first couple days after Ann left my place thinking the same damn thing, wondering how she could possibly want both of us. Then I removed my head from my ass and thought about it objectively. “How many times have you met a woman and thought, she’d be perfect if she had tits like Sonya or a work ethic like Marianne? Or you wish the new girl had something from an ex?”
“Okay, so none of us gets everything we want. You make compromises for the right person.”
“Yeah, you settle.” Because that was the other thing I’d figured out in my eighty-year-old whiskey haze. Ann wasn’t being unreasonable, she just refused to settle. “She truly believes the three of us are better together. And for her, that’s everything. She doesn’t want to settle. I get that.”