by Nikki Sloane
I reached over and scratched her behind the ears, enjoying the contented purr she awarded me.
“When did you make this?” I asked him. “It’s amazing.”
“Oh, thanks. I did it over the weekend.” He looked at me like the tree was no big deal, and not what he wanted to talk about right now. “Lilith, did you hear what I said?”
“Yes.” My tone was cool. “What are you sorry about?”
He sighed. “Everything.”
“Be more specific.” We needed to work on our communication, and I wanted that to start right now.
My request didn’t frustrate him. Instead, he nodded. “First, I’m sorry for what I said to Travis about our friendship being a mistake. I’ve already apologized to him, but I wanted to make sure you know too. He was right. I was scared.” He made a face. “I was fucking terrified.”
This was a good sign, and my pulse quickened. “I’m glad you two talked.”
“Me too.” He motioned toward his couch. “Do you want to sit? I have a lot more to apologize for.”
Another good sign. “Sure.”
I sat, but he didn’t. It made it feel as if he were giving a presentation, selling himself to me, but I didn’t mind that. I could use a little persuasion after the weekend he’d put Travis and me through.
“Second,” he said, “I’m sorry for not saying anything when I started to develop feelings for you. It’s not an excuse, but when I made that promise, I never expected it to happen to me, and when it did—”
“You got scared.”
He set his hands on his hips and hung his head. “Yes. I didn’t want to drive you away.”
“So, you’re saying you’re not scared now?”
He shot me a sad smile. “Oh, no, I’m definitely still scared, but I’m no longer too scared to say so. The last week has been miserable without you.”
It was such a huge step for him to admit what he was feeling. He was genuine and willing to be open. I’d never seen him vulnerable before, and . . . lord. He hadn’t a clue how sexy it was.
“And third,” he came over and sat beside me, close but not too close, “I’m sorry about how I reacted all of last week. I felt like what we’d done—what I’d done—during the threesome crossed a line with Travis. I didn’t ask him if he was okay with what I did, and afterward, I . . . struggled with how I felt and what it meant.”
I turned, tucking one leg beneath the other so I could face him, and softened my voice. “Did it mean something to you?”
“Yes, and no. Travis and I talked about it today. How I liked what we did because it gave me control and power.” He tossed a hand up. “And physically it felt good.”
I couldn’t stop my smile. “It did.”
“I’m not romantically attracted to him, but sexually?” He hesitated, but then pushed through. “I’m trying to get comfortable with the idea that . . . might be a gray area for me. How do you feel about that?”
He looked so nervous, and I put a reassuring hand on his cheek. “I’m more than fine with that. As someone who’s incredibly attracted to both of you, let me say this—I get it.”
I wasn’t trying to make light of what he’d just shared, but dear God, did I understand, and thankfully, he chuckled. It seemed to break some of the tension he had, and he lifted a hand to touch mine on his face.
“I’m sorry for Friday night,” he said. “I felt ambushed and it was a knee-jerk reaction. Everything went off the rails, and when you said it was all or nothing, I thought I’d already lost you. I can’t compete with him.”
He nearly broke my heart all over again, “Oh, my God, Clay.” I leaned in, pressing our foreheads together. “It’s not a competition. I love you both.”
His mouth found mine, and this kiss was as unexpected as they came. He was the confident and in control dominant who could make me tremble, but when my lips pressed against his, I discovered he was shaking. It wasn’t in fear—this was relief. He hadn’t won or lost me to another man.
He was realizing he had us both.
“I’m going to do better,” he said as soon as the kiss ended, “and I have a plan. If you don’t like it, I’ll throw it out, and we can draft a different one.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Very little with you goes according to plan anyway, but do you want to hear it?”
I gave him a knowing look. “Sure.”
“The three of us start a relationship together. Everyone is equal, no one person gets to make the rules.” He stared deep into my eyes like he was pleading with my soul, even though he was asking for the very thing I wanted. “We all love each other, and we all want this to work.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “So far this plan is good. Fully on board with it.”
He laughed, then turned serious. “The next step is Travis moves in here.”
My mind skidded to a stop. “What? In your house?”
“I bought this place as an investment. The plan is to renovate and eventually sell it for a profit, but there’s a lot of space. More than enough room for him. He’d have the whole second floor to himself. He’d be closer to his work here, plus . . . he’d be a lot closer to us.”
Having both men right next door sounded amazing, but . . . “Do you think he’d go for it?”
“He was interested when I asked him, but said it depends on how you feel about it.”
Holy cow, he’d already asked him.
And Travis was considering it. I had to control myself and not get my hopes up, just as another thought stormed into my mind. “Wait a minute. Clay, this is your home. Your,” I struggled to find the right words, “sanctuary. What about having your own space to escape to?”
He shrugged. “I have my workshop. It’s where I spend most of my time when I’m home.” His hand tangled with mine, lacing our fingers together. “Our schedules are a challenge. This will make it so we can see more of each other. It’ll improve communication. The longer I’m around you, the easier it is for me to open up. If I start sliding or don’t know how to share what I’m feeling,” he took an uneven breath, “Travis is there to help.”
Oh, my God. He was taking up Travis’s offer to help him emotionally, and I fucking loved that. They’d mentor each other in different areas of their life.
There was a soft thump as Noir jumped down off her perch and hurried toward us on the couch, distracting me. She rarely came to me on her own; most times she had to be enticed. I watched with surprise as she leapt up onto the cushion and flopped down . . .
Right in Clay’s lap.
“What’s this?” I demanded. “Do you have catnip in your pocket or something?”
He looked at me like I was speaking gibberish. “What?”
“She hardly ever sits on my lap.”
“Really?” He sounded dubious as he stroked her back. She curled into a tight ball with her belly exposed and stretched an arm over her eyes. “She, uh, sits on me a lot. Kind of whenever I sit down.”
My mouth dropped open while I stared at our traitorous cat. “Oh, my God. She likes you more than me.” I leaned over and rubbed her cheek. “I guess I can’t blame her. Me and this cat have a lot in common.”
He looked confused. “Such as?”
“She forced her way into your house, and I forced my way into your heart.”
He smiled like I was being silly. “I’d tell you you’re wrong and you can’t force me to do anything,” his gaze deepened with a love I wouldn’t have thought possible, “but the truth is I’d do anything for you. I mean it. If, down the road, you and Travis need me to step aside—I’ll do it. I’ll go with the satisfaction that at least I brought the two of you together.”
Now it was my turn to look at him like he was being silly. “You’re the architect of this relationship, Clay. You built this, the three of us together. You’re so good at turning everything you make into working art. I can’t wait to see what we become.”
“Fuck,” he said, blinking back the unex
pected emotion I’d caused in him.
“Take off your glasses.”
“What?” This was yet another unexpected thing to come from me, and he looked confused. “Why?”
“Because you said you’d do anything for me, and right now, I don’t want anything between us.”
He liked what I’d said, so he pulled them off and set them on the cushion beside himself. His tone was teasing as he gently evicted Noir from his lap. “You know they help me see, right?”
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to get closer,” I whispered.
Travis gave his landlord notice, and in early December, during an unseasonably warm weekend, we loaded Clay’s truck with a batch of things to start moving Travis in. The guys gave me shit about wearing heels while carrying boxes into the house, but I just laughed.
I hoped to still be wearing them and nothing else later when we went downstairs to celebrate having both my boyfriends so close.
All that was left were the big, heavy pieces, so I stood back and admired the view of the men as they grappled with an enormous headboard. It had their arm muscles tensing and twisting beneath their t-shirts in the most delicious way.
Out of the corner of my eye, a woman dressed in black appeared down the road and walked swiftly our direction. I turned to see it was Judy Maligner, the head of the HOA. Maybe she was out on a power walk, but I suspected that was just an excuse so she could keep tabs. She was wearing athletic clothes, but they were contoured to her perfectly trim body, flaunting her figure, and I tried to remember when I’d seen her in anything else.
Also, she had on a full face of makeup. Who did that?
“Hi, Lilith!” She was slightly winded from her fast stride, and it made her sound breathlessly excited. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Ms. Malinger.”
“Oh, please, honey.” She gave me a smile that managed to chide. “Call me Judy. I’m not that much older than you.”
Had math changed recently? Because she was in her fifties, which meant she was twice my age. I plastered on a polite smile and kept the math to myself. I couldn’t stand the woman and hoped if I didn’t engage, she’d move on.
She asked it innocently, waving a hand toward the men. “What’s going on here?”
The guys were focused on their task, not noticing us as they disappeared into the house with the headboard.
“Clay’s friend is moving in.”
The smile on her face hung. “His ‘friend?’” Her gaze flew to the open door, her eyes narrowed, and she didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “I didn’t know he was gay. I thought he was dating you.”
For a moment, I got so angry, my vision blurred. She wasn’t just judgmental—she was a huge bigot.
It didn’t surprise me she thought we were dating. I’d been going over to his house nearly every day for months. I turned and gave the darkest grin I possessed, while keeping my tone sugary sweet. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend. Not that it’s any of your fucking business who he chooses to date, Judy.”
She reared back in shock. I’d stunned her speechless, but I watched the thought in her head play out on her face. Well, I never.
The guys reappeared and I waved at them. “Travis, come here. There’s someone you should meet.”
She couldn’t move. Her strict manners said it wouldn’t be polite to walk away, even when I’d been rude to her. As Travis approached, she was locked in place.
He sensed something was off and his confused look bounced between us.
“This is Dr. Travis Eckhart,” I said. “My boyfriend.”
She was captivated by his looks, and probably the title of doctor too, but then her mind tangled over the last part. “Boyfriend? I thought Clay was—”
My tone was plain. “They both are.”
Travis held out his hand in an offered handshake, but she stared at it like if she accepted, she’d go straight to hell.
I gestured to her. “Travis, this is Judy Maligner, the homophobic president of the HOA, who probably wakes up every morning thinking about how she’s going to ruin Dr. Lowe’s day, all because she disapproves of his relationship with Cassidy.” I tilted my head and smiled brighter at her. “Which, once again, really isn’t your fucking business, is it?”
She gasped. “I’m not going to stand here and let you talk to me like that!”
“Okay.” I waved and said it in a sing-song voice. “Bye!”
She scoffed again, and when she realized she was going to have to carry out her threat of leaving, she turned on her heel and marched away in a huff.
“What was that?” Travis asked.
I looped my arm around his waist, and we walked toward Clay, who’d climbed into the bed of his truck to undo the rachet straps on the footboard.
“Sorry,” I said. “I thought I’d give Judy a new target to aim for, instead of Greg and Cassidy.”
“Us?” he said.
Well, shit. I hadn’t thought it all the way through. I was fine taking the heat, but Clay and Travis might feel otherwise. “Well, hopefully she just fixates on me.” I pointed to the house across the street and a few doors down. “See that ‘for sale’ sign? It just went up. The O’Briens would rather move than put up with any more of Judy’s bullshit.”
“She’s the worst,” Clay said. “Even worse than carrying all this stuff upstairs is going to be.”
I used a sultry voice. “Mm, but you’re a bunch of big, strapping men, and the faster you finish, the faster we can go downstairs.”
Lord, I couldn’t have given them better motivation.
Greg’s house was decorated for Christmas, and there were touches of Cassidy visible. For instance, three stockings hung on the mantle, and the one with the C initial had to be hers. I expected it wouldn’t be long before he asked her to move in. Probably as soon as her spring semester was over. She spent most of her free time over at his house anyway, and like it was for me and my boyfriends—schedules were tough. Living together maximized chances of seeing each other.
I stood by the window at the back of the house, which overlooked the pool. It was covered for the winter, and the patio furniture had been put away. It’d been four months since I’d been down there, celebrating Cassidy’s birthday. God, so much had changed.
It was so much better than I could have imagined.
I sipped my wine while other people began to arrive for the meeting. Most people already knew each other, but there had been some introductions, and a few people had mentally stumbled when I explained Clay, Travis, and I were a throuple. I was glad how instead of judgmental looks, we received mostly curious ones.
Travis and I fielded any questions we got. It’s not that Clay was embarrassed of our relationship, but he was private with strangers, so it became a fun game to see how fast I could steer the conversation in a new direction if someone began to pry.
The furniture in Greg’s living room had been pushed to one side and folding chairs set up, but most of the folks were still in the kitchen, hovering around the table where the fruit and cheese platters were.
Did Judy know what was happening?
A vengeful smile twitched on my lips. I hoped so. She thought she had all the power, but she’d be powerless to stop us.
Starting a recall petition had been my idea, but Greg fully supported it and had offered his house as the meeting space. I’d scoured the association bylaws, learning what percentage of homeowners we’d need for a quorum and then how many signatures it’d take to remove Judy from the board.
Clay, Greg, his neighbor Erika, and me as my parents’ proxy made four, but we’d need twenty-eight more. Looking around, I was encouraged. Not everyone could make the meeting tonight, but there were a lot of people here and once folks got to talking to their neighbors . . .
It was only a matter of time.
Clay had been standing beside me, and we watched as Travis strode toward us, a fresh glass of wine in hand and an easy smile on his face.
Was I ever going to get used to how handsome these men were? Since we’d fallen in love, they’d only become more attractive.
If they kept getting hotter, it was going to burn my retinas.
“I was just talking to Jeremiah Abbott,” Travis said. “He got fined a hundred bucks for his stone bird bath being two inches too tall.”
I paused. “The Abbotts have a bird bath?”
“It’s in their backyard. He said his neighbor saw Judy out there one morning with a tape measure. She’d gone through the fence and everything.”
Clay groaned it under his breath. “Unbelievable.”
“She’s drunk with power.” I leaned in and dropped my voice low. “And not in the sexy way.”
Both men gave me a look of desire. When Travis had come home from work last night, we’d had a pretty intense session. Clay had taken the lead during the scene, Travis had been in charge during the aftercare, and we’d discovered the shower in Clay’s bathroom was just big enough for the three of us together.
I was so grateful I’d found these men. I couldn’t even remember what it was like before they were in my life, and I never wanted to go back either. Sure, no matter how much planning and designing Clay did, we wouldn’t know what the future held for us, but I wasn’t scared.
Our hearts were big enough for the three of us.
* * *
Thank you so much for reading THE ARCHITECT! Want more scorching menage? Check out my Blindfold Club series! Start with THREE SIMPLE RULES.
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