Amy starts to leap and Connor, not Emiliano, braces himself for impact. He catches her, and they start making out like horny teenagers. Emiliano laughs and sidesteps them. He waves us in, “Come on; they might be stuck like that for a long time.”
Cher and I stare at each other for a moment. What in the polyamorous hell is going on here? I enter the house half expecting another woman to appear, but she doesn’t. Instead, we find Emiliano standing in the living room drinking a beer and channel surfing. Cher’s and my confusion deepen when Amy bounces in and jumps on Emiliano’s back. We watch the weird scene like a tennis match.
“Hey, Big Bear,” she says with a squeeze. How many nicknames does she have for him? She looks at us, “Thank you for coming, ladies. I need more estrogen around here.”
Emiliano laughs and half-growls, “Connor, tell your wife I’m not an amusement park ride.” He makes no effort to remove her. “She does this every time she stops by my place,” he turns to Connor.
“She tried that with me once and knocked me over. I guess she learned to jump the bigger guy,” he laughs and takes a sip of his own beer.
“Just so you know, Milano, snitches get stitches. Now, take me to the kitchen.”
“That’s exactly where you’re supposed to be making my food, woman,” he says as he moves.
“Ahoy!” Amy says like a huge child.
“Saturday, I was a pony, and today, I’m a ship?”
“You were who she was with on Saturday? She told me she had a top-secret mission,” Connor shrugs like the entire scene is normal. “Would you two like something to drink?” We shake our heads, both of us trying not to break the spell of this crazy scene.
“Yup. I was at home, in bed, and minding my business. She jumps me talking about fucking ‘giddy up.’ Then, we’re brunching and lingerie shopping.” He shakes his head. “I was so comfortable.”
Connor's eyes bulge, and we brace ourselves for a fallout. “You two went lingerie shopping? Together?”
Amy frowns at the back of Emiliano’s head as she answers, “Ugh. I didn’t tell him for a reason,” she scolds him then looks at her husband, “yes.”
“Well, where is it?” Connor probes slowly.
“At my house,” Emiliano announces.
Connor’s scowl turns into a grin, shocking the hell out of us when he says, “That’s why you jumped me when you came home. I’m not complaining. Hot damn! That means it’s a good set. My boy Em picked it in person, and you hid it at his place? I can’t wait to see it.”
“Oh, it’s worth it. Wait until you see the panties I picked. They make her ass look fantastic.” Amy blushes and Connor pumps a fist.
“Come here, my love.” He pulls her down and kisses her sweetly. Then swats her ass. “Let’s get dinner on the table. Em, show them to the dining room.”
We settle into our seats. Cher and I are side by side, Emiliano sits across from Cher, and the hosts take the ends of the table.
“Why so quiet, ladies?” Amy queries as she passes the mashed potatoes.
“Um…I guess we were just caught off guard,” Cher confesses. “We thought you two were still together.”
All three of them laugh. “Yeah, common mistake,” Connor says. “I’m her husband and only current lover; he’s the best friend. They’d already gone through the exclusive couple phase, the booty call phase, the friends-with-benefits phase, and had settled comfortably into the best friend phase before I’d met her.” Connor points his fork to Emiliano. “He introduced me to her after I started working for Spark.”
Cher loves a good scoop; she leans in, invested into this conversation. “Wait, this is crazy. You two seemed like a real couple looking for lingerie.”
Amy laughs, “It’s because of the crazy things that come out of his mouth,” she looks at her husband. “He called me a sexy mutherfucker,” She bursts into laughter.
Emiliano smirks, and Connor shakes his head. “You two are the worst.”
“Wow. This is amazing. Most people could not handle your type of friendship.”
“It took some navigating in the beginning, but I had to remind myself that if they wanted each other, I wouldn’t be here. He did have a seven-year head start when I met her.”
“And your girlfriends have been okay with your friendship, Emiliano?”
“Calm down, April O'Neil,” I murmur to Cher under my breath.
“We have no idea because I was his only girlfriend. We have Mr. Forever Single over there. The ladies get one hell of a ride, then they are dropped off at the next station.”
Emiliano shrugs and continues to eat. I’m both jealous and aroused.
“Wait, so you’re telling me you’ve never been in love?” Cher digs.
Emiliano considers her question. “I thought I had a potential love once. I could feel the sparks people talk about…”
“Spoiler alert; he’s not talking about me,” Amy adds.
“But it never went anywhere. Wait, that’s an understatement.” He looks at Cher with something intense in his eyes. “It all turned to shit.”
It’s shocking, but my heart goes out to him. I feel and understand his pain. I’m not that successful in the love department either.
“Milano believes everyone has one true love, so he stopped trying.”
He cuts Amy a side-eye. “You’re just as bad as Loli.” Emiliano rises from the table with his empty plate and beer and disappears into the kitchen. Connor follows.
“Did I make him sad?” Cher asked.
Amy shakes her head. “No, that’s his frustrated pout. He’ll be his usual self in a sec.”
“He can’t just call the woman and request to try again?” Cher investigates, looking for a solution. I nudge her under the table. I don’t want him to call her. Not until I’m one of the women who gets dropped off at the next station.
“There are so many years and so much shit that’s happened in between, I don’t think calling would make a difference, unfortunately.” Amy’s frown perks up. “Dessert and game time!”
She gathers our plates and disappears, as well.
Chapter 8
Emiliano
“What in the hell was that, Amy?” I whisper in the kitchen. “You might as well skywrite my thoughts.”
“Relax!” she says in a harsh whisper. “She is just as fucking clueless as she’s been the last twelve years. Get this, Cher asked if you could call the girl and work it out. I wanted to scream, ‘She is sitting at the damn table!’”
I want to laugh, but I’m not interested in opening old wounds. I need to stick with Plan A. Fuck her and move on.
“The love ship has sailed…”
“I think you should pull her into one of the guest bedrooms and hash this out. Put it all out there.”
“Hell, no! For what? So, the she-devil can use it against me?”
“I really believe…”
“Not happening, Amy.” I give her my “that’s final” tone, and she sticks her tongue out at me.
“Fine!” Her eyes take on a mischievous glow as she leaves the room.
I cuss under my breath and follow because she’s up to something. I enter in time to hear her announcement.
“Game time. Tonight, we play Taboo. Best friend versus best friend. That’s right. Cher and me against Milano and Caris.”
I want to strangle her. She sits on the sofa with Cher, leaving me with Caris. This is the closest I’ve been to her without being enraged. I can appreciate her scent, the way her pants cup her ass, the subtle cleavage of her shirt. My dick stirs, and my frown deepens.
“But there’s a catch. We’re playing a naughty Taboo-inspired game. Time to put your mind in the gutter.”
Oh, she’s evil. “Aims, it’s a work night,” I hedge.
“Are you punking out? Emi? Scared of a little dirty talk?”
She knows damn well I’ve never shied away from talking dirty.
“Hell, no. Did you ask your guests if they wanted to play dirty?”
> “I’m in!” Cher gives Caris a challenging look.
“Fine!” Caris agrees.
Damn her. The one time I want her to be prickly, she gives in.
“Connor is the score and timekeeper! Does everyone know how to play? Guests first. Let’s flip a coin to see which team goes first.”
Connor flips a coin. “Call it, Em.”
“Head,” I purposely leave off the S.
“Caris is up,” Connor announced.
“Of course,” she mumbles as she takes her spot next to Cher and grabs the cards.
“And go!”
“It’s the main thing I sell.”
“Lingerie.”
“Yes! Um…When you’re alone and in the mood…”
“Masturbate.”
“Okay, um this…uh liquid…is needed to create a baby.”
“Sperm.”
I lean forward. We are in the groove. I thought she would give weird clues. I can’t wait to go now. I want to hear her say some of these words.
“Jumping in a lake wearing nothing.”
“Skinny-dipping!”
“Yes!” Her competitive side is upping her excitement. “A way to get you off without…penetration.”
“Hand job?”
“No. Lips and spit are involved, no teeth…”
“Head!” That particular part of my body tingles. I would love nothing more to push her head in my lap and let her demonstrate.
“Two-word term for that.”
“Blow job!”
“Time! Caris and Em have five points. Ready Cher? And, go!”
Cher and Amy are not as in sync. They get blow up doll, vibrator, and stripper. They run out of time on 69. I could have done that one with no issue.
Amy and I are up, and I know the little hater is planning to sabotage me. “Connor, tell your missus to behave. You know how she gets.”
Connor smirks, and I know his mind is in the gutter. “I’ll punish her if she’s naughty.”
I roll my eyes heavenward; those two are fucking rabbits.
“And, go!”
“An unfucked pussy.”
Caris’ eyes grow in diameter. That’s right. I’m going unnecessarily dirty. “Virgin?”
“The warm-up or prelude to fucking.”
“Foreplay?”
“I fuck you until you’re clawing my sheets; your pussy gets tighter and wetter…then you say ‘oh, my god’ because you’re about to have an…”
“Orgasm.”
“Correct.”
“When a guy wants two partners. One on his dick the other on his face…
“Threesome.”
I can’t help but notice her skin reddening as I go on.
“Highly necessary for anal.”
“Lube.”
I look at the forbidden words for sex tape. “If I fuck you and want to watch it later, I’d make a…”
“Video?”
“But when I keep it, it’s called a…”
“Time! Ten total points for Caris and Em. And three points for the ladies. You have to bring it, Amy.”
Amy gets five points and brings it up to a tight game.
Round two is shakier. We reverse the order of the teams. Cher is still terrible at the game, but Caris says a couple of the forbidden words and gives them the points to tie the game. Amy does another solid performance, leaving me to close. We lose by one point which launches us into one of our signature arguments.
“How do you not what a cock ring is, Caris?”
“I don’t have a cock.”
“They are for the woman’s pleasure! What kind of boring ass men have you been fucking?” I hate to lose, but I’m aware it’s just a game. All the talk about sex is what really has me frustrated.
“Don’t worry about who I fuck! Have you ever considered they didn’t need all the tricks to satisfy me?”
The others drink wine and watch us like a volleyball game. I hear Amy ask, “Is this what y’all deal with all week?”
Cher and Connor give her tired confirmations.
“Maybe you should focus more on pleasing the woman and less on tricks,” she yells standing near me with her eyes flashing.
I frown at her. “I know exactly how to please a woman.”
Connor gets up to get a refill. Cher looks at Amy to see if it’s true. She nods and gives a thumb up.
Caris misses the whole exchange. “That’s what you say!”
“That’s what I know,” My response is firm.
“Yeah right,” her hands on her hips while she questions my prowess.
I want to tell her to come back to my place and judge for herself. But she’s so spiteful, she’d say it was bad even if I make her see Mars. Instead, I point a finger at her and say, “Suck my dick! I know the truth.”
I expect her to come back with something witty. Instead, she sucks my finger into her hot mouth and releases it with a pop. It briefly melts my mind. The others giggle.
“Done,” she says with a smug smirk.
“That was my finger.”
“No, it’s your dick because you are a dick. From head to toe. One. Big. Dick.” I’m not surprised when the others laugh. It is a pretty good comeback. I would laugh if Amy had said it. “Besides,” she continues, “your finger most likely is the size of your cock anyway.”
While Connor is reading something on his phone, Amy shakes her head negatively to Cher. I can’t ever say she’s not on my team. She whispers something in her ear, and Cher gives her an impressed look.
“Now, I have to wash my hands. I don’t know if you have rabies.”
Rabies is the last thing on my mind. I need to get away from her before I pull her smart-ass mouth into a satisfying kiss. But I wouldn’t stop there. I’d keep going until I make her cum at least twice. Some of the excitement has trickled down by the time I returned.
Amy is divvying up desserts, and I show up in time to pluck a cupcake out of Caris’ hand.
“She can’t have this one; give her vanilla or something else.”
Caris puts her hands on her hips. “What makes you think you can decide what I eat?”
“Well, unless you want to use an EpiPen today, I suggest you move away from the cupcake with the strawberry center.”
I hear a couple of gasps like I’d just performed a magic trick. I don’t investigate because I don’t care. I have a date with a banana cream cupcake. I settle on the other side of the island with my cupcake and some water. Caris is studying me. Probably looking for a flaw to point out.
“You have a strawberry allergy?” Amy asks curiously about my statement.
“Yes,” she says still looking at me. “How did you know that?”
“My mom thought it was important to make me feel special on my birthday. She brought cupcakes to Mr. Delaney’s class to celebrate. You mentioned then that you were allergic to strawberry.”
“Mr. Delaney? You remember that from the tenth grade?”
I may have just revealed more about my infatuation with her in high school than I want. I work to keep my face neutral. “I have a good memory.” I ignore Amy’s wild eyes practically screaming at me to tell her the truth. Not happening.
“When is your birthday?” Caris asks, suddenly curious. I sip my water and don’t respond. If she finds out my birthday, it won’t be from me.
I have a strong premonition Amy is about to fill in the blank. She is at the end of her rope with this saga. I grab the box with the remaining banana cream cupcakes as payment for her being a pain in my ass.
I have one foot out the front door when I hear her say, “February 14. Valentine’s Day.”
Chapter 9
Caris
“If Amy is right about his birthday – I’m pretty sure she is – then, that means you fell out with him on his birthday!”
I feel a little twinge of regret but remind myself he started it. He’s the one who gave me that mean note.
“Then he shouldn’t have started shit on his birthday,” I p
oint out to remove the blame from myself.
We’re in my office unpacking some of the samples in my size from the Eros line. I like to test my products for fit and comfort before I release it to the masses. Cher feels I should be wearing one of these when Emiliano arrives. According to her, having Emiliano meet us in my office while I’m “checking the fit” of the new lingerie is a way to see if he’s interested without completely putting myself out there.
“That’s my point! Who in their right mind would start that kind of drama on their birthday?”
“Emiliano?”
“NOBODY, dear.” She pulls out a black and nude set and studies it while thinking out loud. “I strongly believe something is not adding up.”
I shake the notion away. I cannot afford to dwell on the possibility of this being one big misunderstanding. The note was clear.
“Teenage boys don’t make sense, Cher.”
“That teenage boy grew to be a nearly thirty-year-old man who happens to commit your strawberry allergy and birthday to memory.”
“He said he has a good memory.” I shrug. I will not analyze what his knowledge could mean.
“Emiliano used that information effortlessly – both times. Plus, you saw how he left. He has to share a birthday with a holiday he hates. That’s rough.” She holds up a pink and red number. “I would say this one, but it’s too Valentine-like. How risqué do you want to be?”
“In the middle - not virginal and not streetwalker.”
“White teddy it is then.” She waves it at me. “Go change before he gets here.”
I hesitate, suddenly unsure of the plan. “Isn’t this a lot of plotting for 8 AM?”
“Girl, go change. You always do this anyway. You’ll just have an audience this time.”
Cher is right. I do this every single time. I’d left my job as an overworked, underappreciated admin with a few designs and some fabric. I’d gone from making custom designs for family and friends to special orders. I’d started a simple website, and now I’m here. I feel beyond blessed and grateful for my professional life.
My personal life, however, is a mess. I slip behind my divider and begin removing my clothes. This ploy is a testament to the absolute pitiful state of my sex life. Who has two thumbs, a bunch of lingerie, no prospects, and a desire to seduce an enemy? This girl right here. I’m nervous. My heart thumps, and my hands tremble as I strip myself bare. I prepare to slide into the teddy, but stop.
Love You...Never Page 5