“Take me home, Elliot,” I tell him. I’m not proud of the tremor in my voice but I don’t hide it from him either. I’m not hiding anything from him anymore. “Let’s go find Alex.”
16
Elliot
Joelle’s looking me square in the eye, and it’s all I can do to fumble my key into the ignition. Whatever blood was left in my brain has headed south.
It shouldn’t turn me on so much. Should it? The notion that we’re on our way to find my roommate, my old friend, to talk about this… thing between us. A three-way relationship? Is that what it is?
I get hung up on the three-way part for a minute and have to stomp on the brake to avoid running a red light.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
I can see Joelle grinning out of the corner of my eye.
“Run it next time,” she says. I almost laugh but I’m too damn nervous.
Why the hell am I nervous about going to see Alex?
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the last time you went to talk to him, you wound up with your dick in your hand and your come on the floor?
“Anxious to get there, are you?”
“You could say that,” says Joelle.
A few more blocks pass. We’ll be there in just another minute or two, which means I absolutely need to get my head on straight.
Hah. Straight. Jesus Christ.
What am I doing?
I slow down and pull the car over, parking next to the curb on a quiet, well-lit street and shut off the engine.
I can feel Joelle’s eyes on me but I can’t get the words in my head to come out of my mouth, not in any order that makes sense. After a few minutes, she lays a hand on my arm.
“I’m nervous,” she says. That gets my attention. I take that soft hand and lace her fingers with my own.
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about,” I tell her, giving those fingers a gentle squeeze. “It’s just me. And Alex. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, for even a second, you let me know and I’ll take you home. Or he’ll take you home, if I do something wrong.”
She’s got this look in her eyes that I can’t decipher. Amusement?
“Why’s that funny?”
“If I’m not supposed to be nervous then neither are you,” she says. “And I tell you what—I’ll make you the same deal. If you get too uncomfortable tonight, you just tell us and me or Alex will get you out of there.”
At that, I have to laugh.
“It’s my house,” I say. “I mean… I guess technically it’s Alex’s house.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? You think this… conversation is going to affect your friendship with him? Because I have to tell you,” she says, suddenly vehement, “I really don’t think it’s going to be a problem.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I say softly.
She tips her head to one side.
“Tell me.”
My stomach is on the verge of revolt because I’m so damn twisted up. But she deserves to know what she’s walking into tonight.
“Something happened,” I say.
“Something?”
“With me… and Alex.”
Her eyes go as round as dinner plates and I drop my gaze to where our fingers intertwine. Maybe it’ll be easier to get the words out if I pretend I’m in confession. It’s basically the same thing at this point—we’re sitting here in the dark, with no one else around, and she’s the only one who can absolve me.
On the other hand, I can’t say I ever wanted to bone my priest.
“The other day I walked in on Alex while he was, uh… Enjoying some time alone.”
I file Joelle’s small gasp away as ‘moments to revisit later’ and continue.
“And for some seriously fucked up reason, I didn’t leave.”
She’s not speaking and it’s killing me to wait, so I sneak a glance up at her face.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Please,” I beg.
Her color is high, breathing shallow, eyes unfocused. It doesn’t register as anger to me.
“Did you do it too?”
My face burns hot.
“Yes.”
“Did you… Did you touch him?”
“What? No.”
“Did he touch you?”
I’m blushing so hard I think my eyebrows might catch fire. “No. At least, not like you mean.”
“Did you want him to?”
I turn away, pulling my hand from hers because I was wrong. I can’t do this. But Joelle doesn’t let me run away. She puts her soft hand to my cheek and gently turns my face back to hers.
“Tell me, Elliot.”
It’s a whisper in the dark. I trust her. Nobody else has to know.
“Yes.”
She’s kissing me then, pressing against me as hard as she can with the hard plastic console between us. When she pulls back both of us are gasping, her hand still cupping my cheek as she leans her forehead against mine.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she whispers. “I don’t know if I would be that brave, in your shoes.”
I don’t feel brave. I feel foolish and exposed and verging on collapse. And—oh, the irony—all I want to do is talk to Alex because I know he’ll know what to do. Alex always knows what to do.
Except I can’t do that now. Not with this.
I must have said this out loud, because Joelle’s settling back to her seat and giving me a stern look.
“I’m not going to tell you that you have to, Elliot,” she says. It damn near guts me when I realize she sounds disappointed. “But I think you should tell him the truth.”
“Because that’s going to go over real well, telling my best friend that I—that I—” I shake my head. I can’t even say the words.
“Hang on,” I say. “Doesn’t this bother you?”
“What?”
“This whole conversation,” I say. “We’re talking about me and Alex—”
Words fail me once again, but Joelle doesn’t.
“We’re talking about you and Alex having a sexual relationship, is that it?” she says. “About you touching him, and him touching you, and—”
“You can stop there,” I hiss, raising a hand to cut her off before my zipper explodes. “I get it, okay, yes. That is what we’re talking about.”
“Do you know what it does to me, hearing that?” Joelle closes her eyes. “It’s like every fantasy I’ve ever had rolled up and gift wrapped in the world’s most beautiful box. Times five.”
“So… you’re not upset with me.”
She laughs, loud and long enough that eventually she presses a hand to her stomach as though she’s in pain.
“I’m not upset,” she says, catching her breath. “Although I might be if you make me wait any longer.”
I start the car, returning my focus to the road as I pull away from the curb.
“Do me a favor, though,” I say as we pull into the driveway a few minutes later. “Don’t mention this to Alex just yet.”
I kill the engine and wait for her answer.
“You can trust me, Elliot,” she says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “I won’t say anything. But for whatever it’s worth, I think you should.”
Maybe one day. Maybe even one day soon. But tonight, we have other things to talk about. It occurs to me that maybe Joelle already knew about Alex being bisexual. She definitely didn’t seem shocked by anything I said.
I haul ass around the car to open Joelle’s door before she does it herself. When she slips her hand into mine, I feel the knot in my stomach begin to ease. Unlocking the front door and drawing her into Alex’s living room, we can hear pans clattering in the kitchen.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I tell her, waving at the couch and TV. “I’m going to grab a beer. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ll take a beer, too. Thanks.”
I head back to the kitchen, bracing myself. I’d deliberately skipped letting Alex know we were coming, though I guess h
e knew I’d be home eventually. I haven’t seen him since—since that thing happened and it’s going to be weird as fuck getting around that. Not to mention with the girl we both want sitting right there in the room with us.
But hey, at least this way I won’t be the only one at a disadvantage this time.
“Honey, I’m home!” I call out as I approach the kitchen.
A few days ago, that wouldn’t have been even remotely unusual.
Alex is standing at the counter when I come around the corner, his back stiff. After a beat he turns around, one eyebrow cocked.
“Honey, huh? Nice to see you still live here.”
“Been busy, dude.” I walk straight past him to open the fridge and then turn around to hand him a beer. He takes it, his eyes on the other two bottles in my hand. I take a sip.
“Double-fisting it tonight?”
I choke, beer spluttering all over my shirt. Alex is looking at me like I’ve lost my damn mind and I can’t blame him. My inner teenager is cackling.
Manfully bypassing the obvious joke, I towel off what I can of the mess.
“Joelle is here,” I tell him as I’m cleaning up.
Alex goes very still.
I fling the towel on the counter and wait but he doesn’t say anything.
“Well? Are you coming?” I ask, and head back toward the living room without another word. He barely makes a sound behind me but I can feel him following.
Joelle is standing near the big screen, scanning the bookshelves.
“Who’s the reader?” she asks as I hand her a beer.
“That’d be me,” says Alex, coming up behind us. “Elliot here is too busy to read.”
“Hey, I read. I just don’t like sitting still all that long.”
“No kidding,” Alex and Joelle say in unison.
Cue the awkward pause.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Alex says to Joelle.
“I’m glad to be here,” she says. She’s obviously feeling shy and I get the feeling we’re crowding her, so I grab the remote and head for the couch, flipping on the television for some background noise. Alex follows suit, taking the opposite end of the couch and leaving a conspicuous Joelle-sized space between us.
She’s grinning as she takes her spot to my right. Alex stretches his long legs out in front of him, laying an arm across the back of the sofa. If he lifts his fingers, he could touch my shoulder.
He doesn’t, but I’m burning up at the mere thought that he could. That he might.
“How’d the big launch party go?” he asks. It’s exactly the right thing to say. Joelle lights up and tells him all about it. It’s a joy to see her like this. I get to see it sometimes at work but here with us she doesn’t have to contain herself, doesn’t have to tone down her obvious passion for the work she loves. It’s incredibly arousing.
“—right, Elliot?” she asks. I nod, not having heard so much as a word of the question.
Joelle laughs.
“I was just telling Alex all about the elephant feet we served for happy hour tonight,” she says.
“What? We didn’t—” They’re both laughing at me now, but I don’t mind.
I like seeing them happy.
“Your face, El,” says Alex, still chuckling. “Where’d you go?”
“I got distracted,” I tell him, leaning in to steal a kiss from Joelle. “So sue me.”
They both go still at the casual affection and I wonder if I’ve made a misstep. I mean, this isn’t a typical date. And while this isn’t my first threesome, it very well might be hers. Or his. It’s definitely my first with another man present.
Leaning into Joelle had the added bonus of forcing me to brush up against Alex’s outstretched hand. He moved to accommodate me and now that big, heavy hand is resting on my shoulder.
“You’re shivering,” says Joelle.
“You have that effect on me,” I tell her, but all three of us are looking at Alex’s big hand on me.
Joelle takes pity on me, leaning in to kiss me again with a smile in her eyes. Alex’s fingers flex, reminding me that we have an audience this time.
“I take it you two have talked things out,” he says, his voice about three times deeper than usual.
Joelle sits back, shifting to recline against Alex’s chest and pulling her legs up to lay across my lap. She tips her head back to look at him.
“You could say that,” she says.
Alex’s other hand comes down to play with her hair. I haven’t seen Joelle wear her hair down since the first time she came to Duckbill, and I’ve been itching to touch it for weeks, just to see if those curls are as soft as they look.
I had them wrapped around my fist earlier and can say without a doubt, they are exactly as soft as they look. Delicate, even, giving her an air of innocence belied by the look on her face as she watches Alex.
I pull off Joelle’s shoes and start rubbing her Christmas-sock-covered feet. Those damn socks hit some tender spot inside me, and I want to scoop her up in a hug. She’s so damn sweet. But now’s not the time for that, so I keep my cool and focus on giving her the foot rub of a lifetime, socks and all.
“Anything you’d care to share with the rest of the class?” Alex asks, turning those blue eyes on me this time. It’s all I can do to meet his gaze because for some dumb reason I can’t stop looking at his mouth.
“I think the operative word there is ‘share,’” I say, losing the battle and watching his lips part at my answer.
Joelle’s breathing is shallow as she arches her back just a little like a cat who desperately wants to be petted. I run my thumb along the balls of her feet and she moans loud enough to have me and Alex both shifting in our seats beneath her.
“Talk to me, sunshine,” he says. “What are we doing here?”
Joelle takes a deep breath and even though I know what’s coming, she shocks the hell out of me anyway.
“Me, I hope.”
17
Alex
The bravado on Joelle’s face begins to wane in the lingering silence after her bold proclamation. I love seeing her like that, daring and straightforward, going for what she wants. She ought to have everything she wants.
And what she really wants is Elliot. They’re here with me now—that’s one hell of a testament to how much they want to be together. If I hadn’t suggested the idea to Joelle, I don’t know that they’d ever get close enough to even try.
She’s perfect for him—brave enough to call him on his bullshit when he blusters, but not afraid to show when she’s vulnerable, which will keep his rougher edges in check. And God knows, she’s good for him.
That’s my role in all this; I realize that now. I knew there was never a chance for me and Elliot to be together, not in a romantic way. No matter how curious or heteroflexible he might actually be, he’s my best friend, not my lover.
No, my role here is to make sure these two don’t screw up what could be a good thing between them.
In the meantime, I’ll take what I can get, consequences be damned.
Joelle looks worried at my continued silence so I stroke my fingers down her cheek.
“There’s a little more room on my bed,” I tell her. “What do you say, sunshine?”
I can actually feel the heat rushing to her face under my fingertips. She’s so damn responsive, a walking wet dream.
I glance at Elliot. He’s pushing her feet off his lap, standing up to offer his hand. Joelle takes it and he swoops her up into his arms, making her squeal. I bite back a laugh but can’t hide my smile. His thick corded arms flex as he skirts around me, walking like she weighs nothing. In a short while, I get to see all that strength, all that deathless pent-up energy of his put to work in service of Joelle.
I can hardly wait.
I follow them back to my bedroom, watching Elliot set Joelle down carefully on the edge of the bed. He kneels before her, pulling her socks off. When he lifts her foot to press a tiny kiss to the tips of her toes, Joelle
blushes hard and covers her red face with her hands.
He’s over the moon for her. It pulls at my heart to watch them, my cock stirring with interest. No matter how badly it’s going to devastate me when it’s over, I’m in this for every minute they’ll let me stay.
Joelle’s peeking out from between her fingers now, looking my way.
“You planning to stand there and watch all night?” she asks.
“It’s a thought.” I approach the bed slowly, standing next to them, Elliot still kneeling at our feet.
When he looks up at me, my stomach twists. I want to stroke his cheek, the way I did to Joelle just a moment ago on the couch, but I don’t dare. There are lines being crossed here tonight, but not that one.
“Stand up, Elliot.” His eyes widen and if I’m not mistaken, the bulge behind his fly jerks at the order as he does what I tell him.
For a man who is so determined to control his own world, he’s quick to defer to me. It’s fueled my fantasies for years, once I figured it out. For now, I take a moment, watching their faces before I pull Joelle to her feet. I set my mouth to work near her ear and whisper.
“Undress him.” She shivers, lifting those soft, strong hands to his collar, loosing the button there. She makes her way down his shirt button by button, trembling only a little as I lay kiss after kiss along the curve of her neck. When she reaches his belt, Elliot’s eyes jerk up to meet mine. I realize he’s waiting for permission and my cock begins to throb.
Not touching him tonight is going to be sheer, unadulterated hell.
Joelle tugs the shirttails from his pants, pushing the sleeves down his muscled shoulders. Her gasp covers the sound of mine. I’ve never gotten used to seeing Elliot without a shirt, but lately he’s taken his workouts to a new level. Every ounce of his frustration over Duckbill, over Joelle, and maybe even over what happened the other night between me and him, it’s all been etched into those muscles, adding to their bulk and definition.
Joelle is no less awed by his body, apparently having forgotten the task at hand. I slap her ass lightly.
“Now, now, sunshine,” I say as she gasps. “Plenty of time for that later. You’re only half done here.”
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