Unwrapped

UNWRAPPED

Cari Quinn

www.loose-id.com

Unwrapped Copyright © December 2011 by Cari Quinn All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

eISBN 978-1-61118-680-2 Editor: Jana J. Hanson Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs Printed in the United States of America

Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 809 San Francisco CA 94104-0809 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

**** DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

Dedication To my mom, my #1 fan, and to Taryn, who pushed me to make this book—and all my books—better. She’s right more often than not, though I rarely admit it.

Chapter One When plotting to finally lose your virginity, being swarmed by children—cute as they may be—definitely added a douse of cold water. Caitlyn Sachs took brief comfort in the fact that her nieces and nephews had been herded out of her mother’s painfully small kitchen. But their ever-present scent of peanut butter and talcum powder lingered. Much as she loved the smell of babies, she really didn’t want to focus on that angle of the reproductive system right now. Or for a good decade, give or take a couple of years. With a sigh, Cait grabbed the only available seat in the room and tried not to roll her eyes at the chaos unfolding around her. The children wailing down the hall. Her sisters arguing. Her mother scowling as she flipped the peppers and onions in her frying pan. “I cannot believe you let yourself get in trouble again. Three kids already and not yet twenty-two,” her mother said to Marnie, the second oldest of her four girls. Ding ding. And so round one began. She could be out Christmas shopping. Getting a manicure. Maybe even seeing a movie with one of her best friends, assuming she could drag Tristan away from his desk or Matthew away from the game on TV. But no, she’d come home to do her duty, though at the moment she would’ve preferred to be anywhere else. Caitlyn, as the eldest, was the one her mother counted on to be the “good girl.” So far she hadn’t let her down on that score. And she wouldn’t. She had her hormones under control— except for that pesky little problem of her virginity—and her goals mapped out to the nth degree. Besides, she had a plan to handle said virginity. Specifically, getting rid of it. She intended to ask her best friends which one of them wanted to do the honors. C’mon, it’ll be quick. A couple of thrusts and done! She suppressed a grin. Yeah, sounded kinda sketchy, but the idea actually made plenty of sense. It wasn’t like she could choose between Matt and Tristan. She loved them both equally. Plus they were hot as hell. That the three of them lived together in the loft above Tristan Design, their graphic design business, only made it that much easier to coordinate. Slide in, slide out, cross the hall, and shut the door. This weekend, she’d make her proposal. Whether that proposal would be well received was anyone’s guess, but she suspected that was part of why she felt so antsy tonight. She needed to speak up before she chickened out. Instead she’d retreated to the safe madness of home. “I’ll be twenty-three before I have the baby,” Marnie replied. “He’s not due for five months.” “Five months?” Cait interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t even look pregnant.” She looked her younger sister up and down, noting the flatness of her stomach. Her

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breasts, however, were the opposite of flat. Cait had gotten the typical round hips and bubble butt of the women in her family, but up top? Nothing. “I do here,” Marnie said smugly, patting her cleavage. “Like you can tell the difference.” “I so can. Went from a C to a D already.” Cait narrowed her eyes. How unfair was that? She was a solid B. Though she wasn’t about to get pregnant to increase her bust size. She definitely wanted kids someday, but they wouldn’t enter the picture until she could give them a stable family. A father, a mother, both gainfully employed. Nice house, maybe even a retriever. She wasn’t settling, and she wasn’t compromising her dreams. Any of them. Tristan and Matt flashed in her mind. Again. Wanting them—one of them—to be her lover didn’t have anything to do with her life plan. She just didn’t have a boyfriend right now, and she was going to turn twenty-five next week. How much longer could she wait? It seemed logical to lose her virginity to them. Separately, no matter what deviant scenarios her mind insisted on coming up with. Her cheeks heated as she glanced down at the classifieds on the kitchen table. Because a threesome would be… Amazing. Mind-blowing. Incredible. This was what she got for watching the cable channels late at night. Worse, watching them with Matt as she had last week. Tristan had been out on a date, and she and Matt had been eating chips and gabbing like they usually did. Half the time they ended up watching cheesy pirate movies—Matt loved to tease her about her kidnap fantasies—but that night they’d come upon a show about alternative lifestyles. The guy with four wives? Yeah, that was weird. But the woman with two men, who looked happy enough to light up the studio with her smile? Cait hadn’t known what to make of her. So she’d gone with the theory that these must not be professional people with public reputations to consider, though it turned out the woman was a lawyer and the guy with four wives worked in insurance. Whatever. Different strokes for different folks. But not her. She was boringly traditional. “Besides, I’m going to get my tubes tied,” Marnie added, snatching the classifieds off the table. She’d circled at least five ads, most of them low-paying clerical positions. Cait shook her head and reached for her glass of water. Yet another reason her family frustrated her so much. It wasn’t just that they’d had kids. Their poor choices of mates loomed as a much bigger issue. Where were those men to help support their children? Not in the picture nearly enough, that’s where. Her sisters—and her mother for that matter—weren’t stupid. They could’ve done anything they wanted to, but their decisions had limited their choices. She hated that they’d been forced to sacrifice their dreams. Once upon a time, Marnie had been a dancer. Who knows what she could have been? Ginny had been interested in law, but law school never entered her vocabulary anymore. Her mother…Cait had no clue what she’d wanted to be. All she’d ever been since Cait could remember was tired.

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If someone dreamed about having kids and starting a family, fine. But her mom and sisters always cooked up small business ideas that they struggled to make work because they were so exhausted by life. She didn’t want them stuck in menial jobs they hated just to make ends meet. At least they’d provided her with the perfect example of what not to do. She’d never let sex or love interfere with her goals. At almost twenty-five, her record was virtually spotless. Sure, she’d had a few broken relationships and spent a couple of nights with guys. And that virgin thing? Merely a technicality, because she’d certainly done her share of messing around. She was tired of having the expectation of her first time looming ahead. She knew it would probably be shitty, so she needed to get on to having good sex. Finally. Her irrational fear of an unplanned pregnancy was getting old. She’d gone on birth control as soon as she’d made the decision to have sex, and she’d insist on condoms too. See, she was thinking practically. Another reason she’d chosen to sleep with Tristan and Matt. This would be on her terms. She could control the parameters, say when it began and when it ended. They’d never push her. In the meantime, she had to push herself and get home. She had a deflowering to arrange. Though in her case it wasn’t deflowering so much as a…deadheading. She grinned. Yeah, that worked. She’d be snapping off a worn-out worry she’d carried around way too long. She rose to her feet as her mother and Marnie started arguing about how they’d fit a nursery into an already crowded three-bedroom apartment. Before she could leave, her baby sister, Valerie, rushed through the back door into the kitchen, her golden hair hidden by her hooded sweatshirt. Under her arm she carried the basketball that seemed to be her constant companion. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she jogged through without stopping. “Val?” Cait hurried forward to grip her elbow. Out of all of them, Val was her favorite. Cait still had hope she could reverse the typical Sachs pattern. At fourteen, Val was a straight-A student and already on the varsity basketball team. “Where’s the fire?” “Gotta study,” she said, not meeting Cait’s gaze. “Midterms week, huh? One reason Christmas sucks.” Smiling, Cait rubbed her shoulder. “Grades still good?” she asked, raising her voice above her mother and Marnie’s continued argument. Thank God Ginny had herded Marnie’s two kids and her own two into the living room or she wouldn’t even be able to hear herself think. “Should we expect another perfect report card?” Val yanked back her sweatshirt, revealing the sunny twin ponytails she usually hid under hoods and ball caps. “Grades are fine.” Cait frowned. Normally Val was a chatterbox, but tonight she seemed unwilling to say much at all. Strange. Maybe the family drama was getting to her. “You know, you could always come stay with me at the loft for a couple of days,” she said in an undertone. “You could get more studying done.” “No, thanks.” Val gave her big sister a weak smile. “I just lock myself in my room.” “But you share a room with Ginny. How can you get any privacy?” Val gave her an odd look. “Why would I need privacy? All I ever do is schoolwork and play basketball.”

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That was a good thing at least. She’d never mentioned a boyfriend. Thank God. If Valerie turned out like the rest of them, fighting for a decent job when she’d had the world at her feet, Cait would lose her mind. Val was so smart and pretty and athletic. God, she didn’t have to settle. And she wouldn’t, if her older sister had anything to say about it. “Basketball going okay? I’ll be at the game on Sunday. Can’t wait to watch you guys destroy the Thundercats.” She grinned and waited for Val to grin back. She didn’t. “I’m not going to be playing Sunday,” she whispered. “What? Why?” “I got suspended from the team.” And so it begins. Cait sucked in a breath and tried not to panic. “How come? What happened?” “It’s no big deal. I’ll be able to play again after Christmas.” “No big deal?” Basketball was Val’s life. Or it had been. “Games like this are what get the scouts interested. Even this early in your high school career, you need to start thinking about scholarships. You’re one of the best guards in the state. Believe me, colleges are already watching your performances.” “It’s no big deal,” Val said again, brushing off Cait’s hand. “I’ve gotta study. See ya later.” “Val—” Cait called as her sister tore out of the room, long ponytails flying. She released a breath and forced herself not to run after her sister. Val was in ninth grade, and that was a tough year for even the most well-adjusted kids. Somehow she’d get Val through whatever difficulty had led to her suspension. If Val wouldn’t tell Cait what was going on, she would call her coach directly. No matter what, she’d be there for her and get her back on the right path. She’d missed her chance with Ginny and Marnie, but she wouldn’t miss it with Val. Cait glanced at her sister and her mother, who’d now moved their spat to the small pantry off the kitchen. Apparently that would be the location of the nursery. Good God. She grabbed the box of breakables her mother had packed up for her and headed for the back door. She had to get out of there before the smell of burned onions sank into her clothes, never to be washed away. On the way out of her mom’s parking lot, her cell chirped. She checked the readout and dutifully stopped the car, a smile already forming. “Hey, you.” “Hey.” Tristan’s warm voice flowed over the line. “Where are you?” The sounds of a scuffle ensued, complete with colorful curses. “Yeah, where are you? And wherever it is, can you bring back food?” Matt chimed in, coaxing forth a laugh. “You have a car. Go get your own takeout. What do I look like, your maid?” “How about French maid? I can see you in one of those little black-and-white outfits. With one of those lacy things on your hair and a really short skirt—” “Her skirts are already plenty short,” Tristan put in after yet another scuffle. “We thought you’d be around for dinner.”

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“I headed out to my mom’s. Didn’t Matt tell you?” “You know how he is. Half-witted.” “If he didn’t spend all his time playing computer games, he might eventually make it to a full three quarters,” she replied, knowing Matt would have some smart comment. “Watch the insults,” Matt interjected. “Or else I’m going to torch all your clothes and fill up your closet with slut gear.” She grinned and tried to ignore the typical flutter in her stomach at that word. Slut. The word she’d heard her younger sisters called in school. The word she’d done everything she could not to be labeled with herself. But if she knew anything, it was that Matt and Tris would never hurt her—with names or otherwise. “You again. Don’t you have anything to do but spy on personal phone calls?” “Dickweed put you on speakerphone.” “I feel the love.” She laughed. “Try not to go at each other too badly before I get home, ’kay?” “We’ll try to control ourselves.” Tristan’s dry tone made her laugh again. “So how’s the fam?” “They’re fine.” She wet her dry lips. “Um, I got some of Abe’s stuff done. Well, I started thinking about it anyway.” “Thinking’s a definite plus. So you’re leaving us on our own tonight?” She glanced out the windshield as icy flakes started to drift down from the dark gray sky. Nightfall came so early this time of year, and she really wasn’t a fan of driving around in snow. But she needed just a little more time. “Not the whole night. I’ll be around in a while. Probably by ten.” Her growling stomach provided a handy excuse. “I’m going to go grab some food, but then I’d like to talk to you. If you have time.” “I always have time for you. Have some right now, actually.” “Oh sure, food. Right.” Matt let out a pitiful moan. “Leave us here to starve.” She ignored Matt. “Nah, later’s good. Anytime this weekend works. It’s not urgent.” Her hymen might say otherwise, but she’d chosen not to heed its silent screams. Besides, if she’d waited this long, she could wait another few hours or even a day or two to have the big talk with her boys. “Whatever works for you. I’m ready, willing, and able.” Just like that, her mind zoomed into the gutter. She had no doubt at all how able he was. Or little, anyway, since she couldn’t know for sure until she’d gotten him naked. But if imagination counted, she’d already slept with him a dozen times. Probably more. “Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit. You boys be good.” “Always. See ya.” “Bad’s better,” Matt said just before she clicked off with a smile. They were insane, both of them. Matt more so, but Tristan had his own streak of crazy. And she loved them so damn much.

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After she’d roamed around the mall and run out of ways to stall, she headed back to the loft. It was nearly nine when she walked into the big open communal office area—currently devoid of her partners—that served as the headquarters of Tristan Design. Three big desks formed a spaced-out L, making it easy for her to toss balled-up paper at Matt across the aisle. That Tris got annoyed at the paper waste increased her enjoyment. He was militant about keeping office expenses down. Anything else, spendingwise, was fair game. His wardrobe in particular. The guy had a suit for every damn day of the week. But when it came to equipment and supplies, he watched Cait and Matt like a hawk. Not that they took him seriously. A couple of bats of her blue eyes and he was putty in her hands. She grinned and set down the box from her mom’s on the counter of the kitchenette in back where they ate most of their lunches and just as many of their dinners. They worked late a lot, especially at this time of year. Everyone wanted to get their spring ad campaigns finalized before the end-of-the-year holidays, so Cait and Tris were designing their asses off. Matt, as their de facto tech guy-slash-accountant-slash-web designer, kept everything running smoothly. Tomorrow she’d start the new series of ads they were designing for one of their biggest clients, Abe Donnelly of Donnelly Clothiers. She couldn’t wait. Abe always pushed her for the most cutting-edge layouts, and she relished rising to the challenge. She glanced at her watch. Though it was still early, her friends weren’t anywhere in sight. Weird. So much for hoping to talk to Tristan tonight. The plan had been to mention her ideas for Abe’s project; then maybe if her nerve held, she’d segue into the discussion she hoped to have with him and Matt about other, more carnal matters. She’d told him she wouldn’t be back until closer to ten, true, but she’d overestimated her ability to waste time driving around as the snow worsened. Of course if she hadn’t rushed out of her mom’s house, she wouldn’t have had that problem. Her chest constricted, and she frowned. Yep, right on cue. She always got a case of the guilties after escaping back to her ordered, happy life. She should’ve stayed longer. Her family annoyed the heck out of her sometimes, but she loved them. All of them. And it was almost Christmas. The kids must have been bouncing off the walls over Santa. At least the ones old enough to have a clue who Santa was, anyway. Next time she’d stick around. Better yet, maybe she’d knock off work early tomorrow night and go take the kids to the movies. Give her sisters and her mom a night off. She yanked open the fridge door and poked her head in. Soda? Or better yet, something with kick? She grabbed a beer and uncapped it, sighing as the cold brew slid down her throat. While she drank, she rummaged through the packages of snacks on the counter. Pretzels, meh. No diet food near Christmas. Why bother? She grinned and eyed an unopened bright orange bag. Cheese puffs were a much better option. Tucking them under her arm, she stepped into the back hallway that led upstairs. All quiet. Even the stray kitty Tristan liked to feed wasn’t curled up in the box he’d set up for him to stay in on cold nights. Maybe Tris hadn’t been able to round him up tonight. She smiled. It was always so cute to hear Tristan calling, “Hey, cat!” as he walked around outside with a handful of treats.

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Cait ascended the spiral staircase, then stopped at the top to listen. For what, she wasn’t sure. The guys probably weren’t home. Maybe they’d gone out to grab a pizza. Or maybe one of them had had a last-minute date. It was Friday, after all. And they were sexy single guys. Too single. Too sexy. She wrinkled her nose. Not that she cared that they dated eagerly and often. Their hookup with her—whichever one of them turned out to be the lucky candidate selected for her virginity search-and-destroy mission—would be a one-time thing. Then all would return to normal. Hey, if she got an orgasm or two out of the deal, she’d consider the maneuver a rousing success. She strolled down the hall that branched off into three sections. Matt’s was first, hers in the middle. But instead of heading straight for her set of rooms, she hesitated. It was too quiet. Unnaturally so. A line of sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. Slowly, she unwound her scarf. She’d forgotten to take off her outer clothes. No wonder she was hot. She had no reason to be nervous in her own house. Did she? Then she heard a heavy scraping sound, like furniture being moved, and she pressed her back to the wall. Oh God. She’d known something was wrong. The lights were off, so who the hell would be moving furniture? Maybe someone had broken in and overpowered the guys. They could be tied up even now or worse. Maybe the serial killer was rolling their bodies up in the rug in Tristan’s living room. She shoved her fist into her mouth to keep from making a noise. The smart thing to do would be to run downstairs and get help. Maybe the police would arrive in time. A groan ripped through the air, disturbing the silence so fully that the sound echoed. And it sure didn’t seem like pain. Well, not regular pain. She’d heard that particular sound before when guys— Again. A long, low sound of pleasure. She bit down on her knuckles, forgetting the cheese puffs she held under her arm. The bag clattered to the floor, but whoever was boinking in the bedroom couldn’t hear. Not when they were now screwing so loudly that the bed was moving. Tristan’s bed. That had been the noise she’d heard. They were going at it so hard that the frame kept slamming against the wall. Creak. Creak. A pause. Slam. Her stomach twisted, hard. The beer suddenly tasted rancid on her tongue. Why should she be jealous? Stupid. He was a talented lover. Of course women wanted him. Matt too. Women wanted Matt, she amended, only half-aware that her feet were carrying her closer to the bedroom instead of away. The door to Tristan’s section was shut. Though this level had been split equally into three distinct areas, the doors that separated them from one another were usually only closed when someone had a girlfriend or boyfriend over. Even then Matt in particular could be counted on to leave the door cracked, as if he got off on the idea of making his roommates listen to his bedroom antics. He was noisy as hell in bed, grunting and yelling with the best of them. Honestly, she envied him. She sure hadn’t ever experienced anything to elicit sounds like he regularly made. Moans, sure. But grunts wrested from the depth of her soul? That would be a no.

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She stopped, her throat convulsing at the new groans reverberating down the hall. That wasn’t Tristan. No way. Matthew was in Tristan’s apartment, but why? Did they have a girl in there? Were they having a threesome? They’d never told her they did stuff like that, but single guys in their late twenties were apt to do any damn thing. More than ever, her virginity felt like a giant weight pressing down on her chest. And other overstimulated parts of her body. If they were having a threesome, why hadn’t they asked her? She was their frigging best friend. The one who cleaned them up and dumped them into bed when they’d had too much fun on Saturday night, the one who picked out presents for Matt’s mom because he hated to and sent out office Christmas cards because Tristan’s handwriting looked like a mass murderer’s. They were a trio, and as such, if they’d progressed to ménages, it only made sense that she be the third spoke of their sexfest. She rubbed her knuckles against her hip and inhaled deeply. Wait, what? What in God’s name was she thinking? She didn’t want to have a threesome. With them or anyone. Ordinary twosome sex was vexing enough. Fisting her hands, Cait continued on until she reached Tris’s door. She pushed it open as quietly as possible and stepped inside the darkened living room. Silence prevailed but only briefly. Then the bed banging erupted again, more violently than before. The moans that sliced through the night mixed and mingled, though each was distinct and completely recognizable. Jerks. Their earlier conversation flashed through her mind, tinged heavily with a sense of betrayal she couldn’t repress. She never liked being left out, but this brought that feeling home with a vengeance. Just when she’d made a decision to take a definitive step toward embracing her sexuality, they had to reenact some kind of tawdry movie mere feet away from her own bed. “Try not to go at each other too badly before I get home, ’kay?” “We’ll try to control ourselves.” Lie of the century right there. Control themselves? Not hardly. Tristan and Matt were in that room. In the three years they’d lived together, she’d heard them more often than she could count, and she knew she was hearing them now. “So you’re leaving us on our own tonight?” Man, they’d jumped all over her absence, hadn’t they? She was thrilled she’d helped them get lucky. Her heartbeat quickened as the groans hit a crescendo. The lump in her throat became a rock, keeping out the oxygen she couldn’t gulp in fast enough. Still she kept moving toward Tristan’s bedroom. Crazy or not, she had to know who was in there with them. The woman must be the quiet type. She’d just ease open the door, peek in, get the scoop, and back out with no one the wiser. They’d never know. But the door was already open, just a little. Just enough for her to see the action on the bed and the two figures going at it. Two. Only two. The one beneath fisted his hands in the sheets, sheets that were already more off the bed than on. A strong grip was all that could anchor him in place with the force of the thrusts into his

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ass. Each one sent the frame clattering against the wall. Probably leaving scuff marks. Probably tearing strips out of the floor. They’d spent hours varnishing that hardwood, lovingly restoring it after the previous owners’ lackluster care. Now it would be ruined. Everything had been ruined. Everything. “Fucking hell, I’m coming.” Tristan’s exclamation sent her careening back into her body, ripping away thoughts of the floor, of life as she’d known it before she walked out the door that night. In its place was something entirely different, a new reality she couldn’t quite focus on as her eyes struggled to behold what her mind couldn’t—wouldn’t—comprehend. “Me too. Shit.” She clutched her beer, her heart rampaging so hard she feared she’d pass out. Her nipples puckered, and her vision blurred. Their long, muscled, perspiration-sheened bodies doubled. Even so she was incapable of looking away from the erotic tableau spread out in front of her. Tristan reared back to tear off the condom, then gripped his long, erect cock—maybe she still had double vision, because he couldn’t be that big—and pumped it over Matt’s flexing back until long streams of cum shot off like a fountain. Tristan groaned and tipped his head forward, working his erection for every drop. She breathed through her mouth, stunned and aroused beyond belief. Wrong. This was all wrong. But she couldn’t turn away, and she couldn’t shut off the longing knifing through her lower belly. It took all her will not to fling herself over the threshold and beg him to take her the way he’d seen fit to take their best friend. Hard. Untamed. That was what she craved. She didn’t want Tristan to treat her as if she were a delicate, breakable doll, his innocent Caity Bait, the name he’d christened her with in college because she’d been younger than everyone else and too tempting for the older guys. She needed to be possessed in the way he’d possessed Matt. Ached to be caught beneath that spray of cum. Except she wanted it on her breasts, where she could use her fingers to mop it up. Then she’d taste him, let the flavor of his release explode on her tongue. Drink up every bit of him and ask for more. To keep from moaning herself, she took a quick swallow of beer. It still tasted off. Not like it had tasted even minutes ago. Matt stroked his own cock now, fast and rough. Any instant now, he’d go off too. She’d never seen two men together before. Never realized she wanted to. Especially her men. But God, it was so hot. So unbelievable. Matt shifted slightly, giving her a better view of the show. And then he came with a wild cry, his spurts disappearing into the tangled sheets, making her clench with unfulfilled want. Cait gasped and took a step backward. Her knees locked, making further movement impossible. Jesus, what was her problem? She could process what she’d seen later, after she was safely in her own bedroom, far from the pants and shudders that had arousal pooling in her panties. But she’d only managed a step when Matt shifted his head as he fought to catch his breath. His eyes met hers for one long, charged moment. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

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Tristan laughed, but he didn’t respond to Matt’s curse, probably figuring it had to do with his spectacular finish. Not quite. Matt looked as shocked as she felt. Gobsmacked, actually. He started to get up, but Tristan bent, still holding his cock, and licked a trail up between Matt’s shoulder blades. Matt fisted his hands in the sheets again and closed his eyes as aftershocks racked his body. Tristan licked for a while, careful to clean up every remnant of the mess he’d made. Matt barely whimpered, but she could tell from his rigid stance over the bed he would be ready to go again in no time. If she hadn’t been there, he would probably already be rolling over and taking hold of Tris’s cock, bringing the still-stiff length to his lips and swallowing the salty tang of the release she yearned to taste. A hot wave of urgency swept over her. She quivered, her tight nipples pressing against the bodice of her wool dress. She couldn’t watch this anymore. Not unless she intended to become part of the scene and not just a voyeur. Not that they’d invited her. No, the party she’d crashed was clearly just for two. And she’d already overstayed her welcome. Though she stumbled, she managed to turn and get the hell out of there.

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Chapter Two Matt watched Cait spin away from the doorway, her long blonde hair flashing in the darkness. He deliberately released his grip on the sheets, one finger at a time. Playtime was officially over. “Let me up,” he said in an undertone, his mind whirling. He had to go to her. Alone. If Tristan got involved, he’d churn them all up until they couldn’t have a rational conversation. She’d be excitable enough on her own. Hell, from the shock he’d seen written on her face, that was probably an understatement. She had to be confused. Hurt even. Betrayed that they hadn’t told her. Christ, she probably hated them now. “Somebody sounds cranky.” Grinning, Tristan did as Matt had asked. He cleaned up with a tissue, then searched out his abandoned condom and disposed of both with former Boy Scout zeal. “Next time you can take a turn at bat. If you’re good.” Matt rolled his eyes, so not in the mood it wasn’t even funny. Of course if Tris knew why, he wouldn’t be jovial either. But Matt wasn’t about to deal with both him and Cait at once. His best friends were like two lit matches, each encouraging the other to burn. As much as he loved them, putting out one fire at a time was plenty. “I’ll put it on my list for Santa.” Matt sat up and reached for his boxers, determined to ignore the wetness drying on his back. He needed a shower, but that would have to wait. “Santa came early.” “Ugh, mental pictures are forming I don’t need, bro.” With effort, Matt made his tone light as he got dressed. Fast. “Thank God you stopped dressing up like him for Cait’s nieces and nephews, or I’d be scarred for life.” Tristan snagged his dress shirt off the back of a chair and shrugged into it, leaving the crisp fabric unbuttoned over the trousers he tugged up with annoying efficiency. He always skipped underwear, claiming it saved time. Matt’s hands were still shaking—though that might have been for more than one reason—but Tris’s grip appeared rock steady. As usual. Unflappable Tris. Except when he wasn’t. Then heaven and hell both needed to watch out. “What’s your rush?” he asked, his tone mild. “You forget to DVR SportsCenter?” “No. I just have a…phone call to make. To, uh, my mom.” Smooth. Matt shook his head. Finish sex with a hot guy, and hurry out of the room to call Mommy. Not that he really intended to do that, but still. He caught Tris’s sexy smirk and turned away to tuck in his T-shirt. Much more of that and he’d be on his stomach on the bed again in no time.

12

Cari Quinn

“Right. Well, have fun. I’m going to grab some quality laptop time. Want to use the phone in here?” “No,” Matt said, a little too quickly judging from Tris’s raised eyebrows. “Think I’ll get a beer.” Maybe a couple. “I’ll be down in a while,” Tris said, already heading into the living room. “Take your time.” Again he got the raised eyebrow look. “I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve talked to Mom and—” “Knock yourself out. I’ve got plenty to do up here. Besides, Caity’ll be back anytime.” Matt plastered a bland smile on his face as he ran a hand over his hair. Tris was a hair puller, so it was a freaking mess as expected. Damn shame he was overdue for a cut. He pulled a rubber band out of his pocket and yanked it back into a short ponytail, wincing at the scrape along the back of his neck. Stubble. Had felt damn good at the time, not so much now. He rubbed his own bristly jaw. How could women stand that sensation on their thighs? He’d have to be more mindful of shaving, since he normally considered it a hit-or-miss activity. Being with Tris had made him more mindful of a lot of things. Personal grooming. How much fun it was falling for your best friend, even if no one else could know. Exactly how deliciously vulnerable it felt to be at your lover’s mercy when you knew he’d show you none. And now he was mindful that their other best friend was about to rip into his ass in an entirely new way. “See ya,” he said, already reaching for the doorknob. He didn’t hear Tris’s reply. Halfway down the hall, he picked up an unopened bag of cheese puffs. Cait’s favorite. He sighed. Dear God, what was he going to say? He found her in the kitchenette. She had a perfectly good kitchen upstairs in her own apartment, but he’d rightly guessed she’d be downstairs. Anything to get away, if not very far. Tea whistled mournfully on the stove. She ignored it, staring off into the distance while she pressed dents into the dials with her white-knuckled fingers. “Cait.” She whipped her head around at his voice. Her blazing blue eyes drilled into his. “I don’t want to speak to you.” “Too bad.” He tried to ignore that she was trembling, so faintly he doubted she even realized. “I’m here, and we’re talking.” “There isn’t anything to say.” “Bullshit.” She pressed her lips together and faced the cheerful rooster-patterned wallpaper above the burners. “I would tell you to go fuck yourself, but Tris already had that honor.” “Jealous?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “We both know how much you’ve wanted that particular piece of ass since college.” She glared at him. If he wasn’t mistaken, her trembling had become straight fury. Good. If she started to cry, he’d lose it. He could handle anything but that. “Are you jealous?” she countered. “Since if I want his ass, I sure as hell don’t want yours.”

Unwrapped

13

“Oooh, I’m crushed.” He rubbed his palm over his heart, his gaze measuring hers. This conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected, but he’d ride it out. “I expected you to deny it,” he said, hoping like hell his voice stayed even. “To tell me I was wrong.” Cait shrugged jerkily and yanked her teapot off the stove. She glowered again when he came up beside her to turn off the burner. “I can handle that myself, thank you very much. Don’t you have a bed to be bent over? So sorry I interrupted your private time.” She turned away, but he shot out his hand and grabbed her arm. “Let me go, dammit.” “Not bloody likely.” He tugged her closer, noting the flare of her nostrils and the way her irises darkened like storm clouds. She had such expressive eyes. Each nuance of emotion showed up there, a virtual guidebook to her thoughts. Right now anger brewed in them. Maybe even jealousy. But there was more. “What’s going on with you?” he asked softly, tightening his hold when her shaking intensified. She shifted her face away. “I asked you to let me go.” “You really do want him,” Matt murmured, pressing his fingers into her sensitive skin. But he couldn’t let go. Her scent wrapped around him, fresh like peaches but warmer, sweeter. Drugging him into forgetting he was supposed to be making her understand. She set the teapot aside on the small refinished hardwood table. If Tris were there, he’d grab an oven mitt and slide it underneath to protect the wood. Since he wasn’t, the pot remained. “I bet you loved it when you realized I’d be out for a while tonight. Plenty of time to rip the rug out from underneath me and use it to whack each other off.” Since that phrase made him think of a mobster show and not sex, he had to fight back a smile. “Why should you care? You’re not sleeping with either of us.” “Why should I care? Did you really just ask me that?” “Yes.” He stepped a fraction closer. “I did. So?” “How long have you been fucking each other right under my nose?” Matt swallowed, hard. “Almost a year.” Her eyes widened, and she whirled out of his grip. “A year? You’re kidding me. There’s no way, just no way you could be—” She clutched her midsection. “There were girls. You’ve been with women since then. I know you have.” Now he was the one to shrug. “Yeah. We’re still into women too. It’s not an either/or with us.” “No, it’s screw whatever’s available, right? If it’s some pussy, fine. Or a cock in the ass. What difference does it make?” “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” he said, his tone easy. “Have you?” “God. Only you would turn this into an excuse to talk about sex.” She picked up the teapot and sloshed tea into her favorite cartoon coyote mug. “Isn’t everything?” He stepped closer and rested his hands lightly on the table on either side of her, effectively boxing her in. She wouldn’t be running from this like she’d run away upstairs. She drank her tea, swallowing audibly, and didn’t reply.

14

Cari Quinn

“So,” he said, moving his face closer. Almost immediately she bristled from the feeling of his breath hot on the back of her neck. Or maybe it was the erection he’d be damned if he would try to hide. “Anal sex. Ever tried it? Ever let a guy slide his dick inside your ass? Stretch you wide open and make you burn from the inside out, until it feels like your whole body’s throbbing, aching for relief. Until you’re begging him to make you come.” “Have I ever mentioned that to you?” Her voice caught and gave on an impatient breath. “You know I tell you everything. If I’d done…that, you’d know.” “Obviously we don’t tell each other everything.” “You don’t. I do.” “Really.” He reached up to undo the ponytail gathered at the base of her neck. She stiffened, but she didn’t stop him. Interesting. “Except that little thing about you wanting Tristan.” Her gaze bounced to the stairway leading upstairs. “He won’t bother us,” Matt added, tossing aside the band and running his fingers through the silken gold strands. “How do you know that? And what are you doing? Is leftover lust addling your brain? Christ.” She elbowed him in the gut—without checking her strength—and turned to face him. “I get what you’re doing, you know.” She banged the mug on the table. “You’re trying to get me to forget what I saw. I know your games, Matt. I’ve seen you use your tricks on other dumb chicks. Do you really think I’d fall for them?” “My games. My tricks. So is that why Tris got in bed with me, you think?” Idly, he twirled a lock of her hair. “You think I coerced him the way you obviously believe I do with women?” “You got him into bed. Not the other way around. Right. That’s why he was inside you, ramming away.” “You’ll learn, sweetness, that sometimes the one on the bottom isn’t any less powerful than the one on top.” Something hot and primal flashed in her eyes, and she firmed her trembling lips. “I wouldn’t know.” “Huh?” “I. Wouldn’t. Know. I haven’t been underneath anyone. Or on top. Or any other damn way.” His breath tripped. Nope. Couldn’t be possible. She wasn’t saying what he thought she was saying. She couldn’t be a virgin. Matt searched his memory banks. She’d discussed sex with him lots of times and not in the abstract. He always got the deets if her boyfriends got her off—or if they didn’t. Usually he heard more details than he needed, and he reciprocated in kind. For nine years, they’d been the kind of close friends where anything went. No detail off-limits. Except him and Tristan being lovers. From day one, he’d hidden that from her, not knowing how she’d take it. Or knowing precisely and being unwilling to see the judgment in her eyes. But she wasn’t judging him right now. What lurked in her gaze brought to mind something else entirely. “What are you saying?” Maybe he’d read her wrong. Didn’t happen often, but it did now and then.

Unwrapped

15

“I’m saying I’ve never had sex. Not all the way.” She reached for her mug and tossed back the rest of the tea, wiping her chin with the back of her hand when some escaped her lips. As if it were on a spring, his cock swelled and stretched for glory. “Maybe I should be like you. More open to all experiences. Find myself a nice whomever and go to town.” In spite of the tightness in his groin, he grinned. “A nice whomever. Sorry to say, I’m not that indiscriminate.” At her eye roll, he added, “And nice doesn’t have a whole lot to do with what attracts me to someone.” At least usually. In her case, it did. He’d been attracted to her for years, and the reasons weren’t all physical. She was so funny and sexy and sweet. Cait was a nice girl. A good girl. One he’d yearned to taint for so long he’d almost resorted to taping his dick down whenever she was within speaking distance. Another secret withheld between them. She tipped her head to the side. “So what does? What made you one day look at Tris and say, ‘I want that ass’?” She made a face. “Or vice versa.” He swallowed and fought the urge to take a step back from the perceptive gaze she trained on him. “Hypothetically,” he began, relieved when she smiled. It was their little game, the way they revealed things to each other when the topic became too personal. Cait had started it the first time she’d told him about a guy going down on her, and she’d wanted his advice about how to encourage her boyfriend to give her what she wanted. Since then, anytime the conversation turned to intimate topics, they used the word as a signal things were about to get serious. “Of course.” “Hypothetically, it may have had to do with us both wanting someone else. At least at first. Now…” Now everything had changed. If he hadn’t been in love with Tris a year ago—though he was reasonably sure he’d been on the way—he sure as hell was now. That love was reciprocated, he knew. They didn’t talk about it because they didn’t have to. Like the other shared burden they’d avoided discussing since the first night they’d gotten together. “Someone else.” She nodded briskly. “Someone I know?” Matt had to smile. God, she could be so endearingly clueless. “Think you might have met her.” Pain rolled over her face before she composed it. “So it’s a her?” “Most definitely.” He reached up to cradle her jaw in his palm. Their gazes clashed and held, the air between them hot enough he expected to smell smoke. “Go take a look in the mirror, Cait.” When her lips fell open, he pressed his advantage and moved in close. He’d waited for this moment, this opportunity, for so long. Maybe it hadn’t been presented to him the way he’d hoped, but he wouldn’t turn away. If she really didn’t want him, if their occasional flirtations and lingering looks over the years just amounted to the natural offshoot of a guy and a girl spending too much time together, better he know now. And if he still had any chance of getting her to see another man besides Tristan, he had to make this count.

16

Cari Quinn

Instead of going in for the kill, he laid his lips full on hers, absorbing the feel of her beneath him. Erotic images of her being beneath him in other ways filled his mind. Her legs opening for him, locking around his hips as he drove into her until she accepted every inch of him. Until she pleaded for more. Sliding into her so deep that he became part of her, as she became part of him. He felt her tremble again, but she didn’t shake. The sound that escaped her mouth and slipped into his spoke of pleasure, not fear. When he extended his fingers into her hair, angling her head backward so he could lick his way inside, she wrapped her tongue around his to invite him in. Thank God. Intensity grew quickly, hijacking his plans to go slow. He slanted his mouth over hers and consumed her hungrily, their tongues fighting for dominance while her body revved against his. Her breasts pushed against his chest. Her hands clutched his hips. Their centers locked together. He rocked against the vee of her thighs, and she moaned, her shudder seeping into him while they devoured each other. How often had he dreamed of the first time he’d taste her? No matter what happened after this, there could be no going back. He’d always remember when she’d tasted of beer and dark excitement, the kind that pushed people to do very bad things. Like sweeping his arm out and sending the mug on the table clattering onto the floor. Her favorite mug. Even so the crash barely registered as he picked her up and set her on the table. His patience had vanished in an instant. He hadn’t expected the way her flavor would punch through his system. He needed more. All of her, raining down his throat. “I’m only asking because it’s you. Normally I’d say to hell with it and take my shot,” he said, his voice guttural. “I want in those pants of yours, and I’m going to get there. But only if you say yes first.” To his surprise, she gave him a small smile and rubbed her palm over her wool-clad thigh. “I’m wearing a dress.” “Is that a yes?” She paused just long enough to make him want to drop to his knees and say a loud, fervent prayer. “No.” He still hadn’t recovered from her answer when her smile widened. “That’s a hell yes, please.” He soon found himself on his knees anyway, close enough to her heat to breathe her in. He translated the confusion on her face as he rolled up her dress, revealing her pale legs. No stockings or garters. Just pure, untouched flesh. Really untouched. His mouth went dry, and he glanced up to seek her permission again. This wasn’t some random girl he’d hooked up with in a bar. It also wasn’t Tristan, who not only took what he dished out but served it right back up to him. This was the girl he’d loved so long, platonically and then otherwise, that he hardly remembered the years before she’d come into his life. It felt like she’d always been there. Always would be. Trying to get himself back in line, he kissed the inside of her knee. She touched his hair, reaching down to loosen his ponytail like he’d done with hers. She brushed her fingers over the back of his neck, saying more with that one gesture than she could have with a thousand words. I want you. I trust you. I love you.

Unwrapped

17

He pulled her closer to the edge of the table and registered her heeled boots digging into his ass when she wrapped her legs around him. The wool clung to her skin, but he forced the material out of the way to bare her black and pink panties. “Polka dots?” he muttered, earning a muffled laugh. She ran her fingertips over her shoulder. “Matches the bra. Except the bra has cutouts.” Her touch moved to her breasts, narrowing his focus until he groaned and dragged his gaze back to her panties. He reached out to stroke the satin panel between her thighs, closing his eyes at her surprised moan. Wet. So damn wet. “I’ve wanted to eat your pussy since you wore that bikini to Tristan’s house party senior year.” He felt her stiffen, but he didn’t stop. If he could put his mouth on it, he could damn well use the word as something other than a curse. “The blue one with the white hearts all over. You were on the couch, spread out asleep after swimming all day, and I saw a little of this.” He tugged on a wispy blonde curl that escaped the confines of her panties. “It made me want to see the rest. To put my tongue right here”—he demonstrated, flattening his tongue against her clit through the fabric—“and make you moan like you are right now.” Cait’s legs tightened around his back, and her thighs opened farther. “God, I’m so embarrassed. So much for a neat bikini line.” He stroked the wet curl, then licked it, pulling lightly. She bolted upward as if he’d prodded her with a fiery poker. “I’d figured you’d be shaving now.” “Waxing,” she corrected, laughing before another lick and press stole her breath. “Whatever. Mmm, I can taste you even through the fabric. You like having a guy’s tongue here, don’t you?” “I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question.” Her voice had lowered to match his. He grinned and nipped her soft inner thigh. She whimpered just as he’d wanted. Then he went to work with his fingers, sliding them up and down so that the material soon became saturated with her juices. He yanked her as close as he could get her and buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her musk with every stab of his tongue against her eager, swollen clit. She pulled on his hair—even harder than Tristan, for God’s sake—and rubbed against his mouth, grinding hard, shameless in her pursuit of her orgasm. When he’d imagined her in bed, he’d guessed she’d be like this. Not some limp rag doll waiting to be pleased, but a willing, excited participant. Completely complicit in her own sensual implosion. What he hadn’t guessed was that she’d come with a long, ragged whimper with hardly any stimulation at all. Her heels beat against him, and her release poured through the fabric, a thick honey he couldn’t swallow fast enough. Through it all, she clutched his hair, bringing him against her, so close that the pulse of her clit beat against his lips. “Better than I thought,” he whispered, breaking the silence once her panting had subsided. He sucked in a breath and relished the perfume of her orgasm. He’d given her that. That sweet, tangy scent belonged to him now too. She nudged him back with a hand on his shoulder, her expression way too intense considering the climax she’d just had. “I was going to ask you or Tris to take my virginity,” she said after a moment, still sounding breathless.

18

Cari Quinn

“Oh.” As the full weight of that sank in, he rocked back on his feet. “Either of us? Like whichever tool comes to hand?” “No. Of course not.” She pursed her lips as if he’d just said something terribly offensive. “I figured we’d decide. As a group.” “Right. Makes sense.” He shook his head. Wow, she’d taken her organizational planner life a little too far. “You’re interviewing candidates. At least you’ve narrowed down the possibilities to two.” “You’re making it sound—” “Insane?” Matt shook his head. “No, absolutely not. It’s perfectly rational to ask your best friends which one wants to shoulder the responsibility of popping your cherry.” “Shoulder? Excuse me? Who just had his tongue in my…” “Pussy,” he said patiently. “A word you have no problem using when you’re pissed.” She took a breath and didn’t answer. “And my tongue was on top of it, not even in. I didn’t get that far.” He ignored the flush that crept up her neck and kept going. “You’re a keg ready to blow, short stuff, and just because you’ve decided whichever one of us is willing to do the deed is good enough doesn’t mean we’ll just go along.” “Right. Sure. You’ll gladly screw each other, but me? Forget it. Even though you both supposedly wanted me, which is complete crap, and I’m sorry I believed it for even a minute.” She hopped off the table. “Thanks for the orgasm. I appreciate you favoring me with your speedy tongue.” Regret jabbed his gut. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but dammit, didn’t she get that he’d been hurt? How could she make sleeping with her into some sort of competition? Something they’d discuss as casually as which movie to rent? “Cait, wait.” “I’m tired, and I’m going to bed. We’re done talking. As for what happened with you and Tris, I’m done talking about that too. I don’t want you to tell him I saw you in bed tonight.” “Why the hell not?” “Because it’s over. You want to ball him, go ahead.” She gave him a thin smile. “Hope you’re very happy together.” “Look, I’m sorry,” he called after her, but she didn’t halt her rush upstairs. Matt pulled out a chair and slumped into it. God, could this mess get any worse?

Unwrapped

19

Chapter Three Cait didn’t sleep. She curled up in the center of her bed, staring at the wall that separated her from Tristan. Matthew’s set of rooms was on her other side. Right there, but so far. In the past, she’d loved knowing her guys were only feet away. Not anymore. Now that knowledge was like a dozen knives slashing open her heart. They were lovers. They undressed each other, kissed, touched each other’s naked bodies. And then, after all that, one of them thrust in the other’s ass and— And then what? Did they curl up afterward and murmur endearments? Engage in pillow talk? Or mutter something manly and strut away? Letting out a soft groan, she covered her face. Her nipples felt as hard and hot as burning coals, and her pulse had yet to stop racing, hours after her fight with Matt. Then there was what had come after the fight. Pictures scrolled through her mind. Explicit, erotic pictures of Tristan kneeling between her legs to lick her while Matt poised behind him, his heavy cock in his hand as he inched inside Tristan’s ass. Of her riding Matt while Tristan moved up behind her, his hands rolling up her torso to clutch her breasts while he claimed her from behind. Way behind. Not just doggy style. She wanted both men inside her, breaching both entrances. She was a freak. Had to be. Why else would a virgin be interested in leapfrogging right from so-called normal sex into the grand slam of fucking? Early the next morning, Cait took a long, hot shower and dressed in black pants and a festive red cowl-necked sweater. It was almost Christmas, dammit, and she was going to be happy if it killed her. She brushed her long hair to a high sheen, taking care to arrange it artfully around her shoulders. Though she often skipped makeup when she knew she wouldn’t be meeting with clients, today she did her full face. It might be Saturday, but she’d planned on working this morning, and she wouldn’t be dissuaded from doing her job just because she was embarrassed. What had happened last night in the kitchenette had been the result of shock, hurt, and lust. A dangerous amount of lust, granted, but heavily flavored by other emotions. At least if they’d had sex, she would’ve accomplished her goal and been done with it, but she hadn’t been thinking straight. Or at all. She stared at the wall between her and Matt’s rooms. That’s what she should do. March over there before Tris woke up and just climb on top of Matt and finish the deal. One popped cherry, one magnificent orgasm if she was lucky, and she’d be on her way. That way she wouldn’t be asking the guys, she’d be demanding what she needed from Matt. She knew how to make him see things her way. A few sweet words, a couple of descriptions of how wet and hot she’d been all night thinking about him putting more than just his tongue between her legs…

20

Cari Quinn

Plus this way Matt would see she was perfectly fine with the guys’ arrangement. They could keep screwing their brains out, and she wouldn’t make a peep. Well, not fine, but not churned up either. The positive side of Matt and Tris sleeping together was that they had an outlet for all their kinky needs. Which meant there was absolutely no reason on God’s green earth for them to even concern themselves with her. Then why did he say they had gotten together because they wanted you? “Horndogs,” she muttered, slamming out of her section before she could think better of her decision to confront Matt. It wasn’t her style to sit around and think until she got a headache. She dealt with situations. She’d deal with this one head-on too. Rather than knock, she opened the door and marched into Matt’s living room, then straight on through to his bedroom. If Tris was in there with him, then, well— She stopped in the doorway and gasped. At least Matt was alone in bed, lying on his stomach so the view she got started with his ass. He was also naked. Good goddamn, what a body that man had. Tight buns, long, lean, nicely muscled legs. Golden brown skin that didn’t turn pale even in the middle of winter. Firm back. Firmer ass. Yeah, she was a bit fixated on that part of his anatomy, but who could blame her? Tristan had him on height—and length, from what she’d seen last night—but hoo boy, he did well with what he had to work with. Climbing astride that hobby horse would be no problem at all. Cait threw back her shoulders and walked toward the bed. “Wake up,” she said, picking up his arm and thumping it against the mattress. He made a snuffling noise and turned his head the other way. She tried not to smile. Thinking about his inherent cuteness would not serve her greater purposes. She leaned down and got really close to his ear. Then she whispered, “Wake up right now and you can fuck me.” He lifted his head so fast he bumped her nose. “Huh? What?” Laughing, she dropped down beside him and stroked his messy hair. “Are you hard?” He rolled over and glanced down at himself before looking back up at her. “Sorry, not at the moment. You should’ve stopped by a little while ago. But really if you want a morning hardon, you want Tris. He’s the one who wakes up with the mother of all boners.” All at once, the laughter drained out of her. “You just had to mention him.” “Yeah, I did. Because he’s part of us. Or have you forgotten that?” “I didn’t forget anything. What about you? Were you thinking of how it would affect me every time you asked him to put his dick in your ass?” Matt sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. She slid her gaze to his cock, slid it away. Slid it back again. She shook her head at the immediate liquefying between her legs. Clearly horny virgins had no shame. Or very little. “As much as I want to be the one who takes your virginity, Cait”—he dropped his arm and met her gaze only seconds after she’d ripped it from his shaft—“I’m not willing to be a substitute Tris.” “You’re not.”

Unwrapped

21

“Really. So if Tris had come downstairs to comfort you last night, what would have happened? Here’s what I think. I think you would’ve scampered right up to bed with him and not mentioned anything about us being your virginity snatcher candidates. It would’ve been the Tristan and Caitlyn sexpedition, and to hell with me. And then afterward, you would’ve snuggled in his arms and pretended I didn’t exist, even though the dick inside of you had just been inside me an hour earlier.” She made herself look straight into his churning brown eyes. “No. I wouldn’t. Because despite this big crush you’re so certain I’ve been harboring for Tris—” “I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Matt said quietly. “Don’t think I haven’t.” “So how come you didn’t say anything?” “I figured you weren’t ready to discuss it.” She brushed back her hair and took in the resolute set of his jaw. Maybe last night he really hadn’t been trying to distract her from what she’d seen. Maybe he’d gone down on her for more than his residual lust from Tris. Maybe. Testing them both, she laid her palm on his drum-tight abs and smiled at the way he jumped. She licked her lips and let her gaze drift lower. Other parts of him were apparently keen to respond as well. “I appreciate you giving me space.” He shrugged. “You weren’t doing anything about it, so I wasn’t going to pry.” “So we both had a thing for Tristan for a while. A couple of years for me. Not all the time, but enough to make it uncomfortable sometimes.” Matt’s comments about wanting to eat her out since college scrolled through her mind. “What about you?” “Didn’t we discuss this last night?” His irritation teased another smile from her. Matt hated talking about feelings. Sex, sports, food, movies, dirty jokes…all game. But feelings? Nope, nuh-uh. “I’m just curious,” she said, tracing the inward slash of his navel. She didn’t miss his quick breath, especially when she used her nails. “How long?” “I don’t know.” His Adam’s apple jerked when she snapped her attention back to his face. “I’ve been with men before. A couple of times. After a while, I realized I’d stopped seeing Tris as just a buddy. I didn’t do anything about it for a long time, though. And it took a hell of a lot of beer for me to get up my nerve.” He let out a choppy laugh. “I thought he’d kick my ass.” A retort sprang onto her tongue, but she didn’t voice it aloud. If he was sharing, she wouldn’t ruin the moment with a sarcastic comment. “He didn’t.” “No.” “Do you do it a lot?” “Jesus, Cait.” Again that pained laughter. “You really don’t want to know that, do you?” “Yeah, I really do.” She pulled up one of her legs underneath her so she could face him squarely. “If you’re not going to shut me up in other ways, you’re going to answer my questions.” His lips twitched as he cast his gaze to the ceiling as if saying a silent plea for help. “Like what?” “Like how it feels.”

22

Cari Quinn

“How what feels?” She fought the blush on the verge of blooming across her cheeks. “Anal sex. To have a guy back there.” This time he didn’t laugh. “Honestly? It feels fucking amazing.” “I had a feeling you’d say that,” she said, lacing her fingers together to keep from fidgeting. “From the way you groaned every time he—” She stopped, feeling ridiculous. As many conversations about sex as they’d had, this went beyond. So far beyond, she knew she had no hope of staving off the flush rioting over her face. “Is it better than when you’re with a woman?” “No. It’s just different. I like both.” He shrugged. “So does Tris, apparently.” “So you turned him gay,” she ventured. With a smile, he shook his head. “Hardly. And say it with me. Bi. Not gay.” “When you’re with him, you’re gay. Right? Labeling it otherwise doesn’t change things.” “Even when I’m with him, the rest of me doesn’t shut off. Believe me, we’d be happy to have a woman there too. With us.” His intent expression made her rear back. “You’re not saying you’d like to…with me.” She couldn’t even say the words. He wanted to have a threesome with her? That was what he’d meant when he said they both wanted her? She’d thought maybe it was a mild interest, a little jealousy thing between them, not unlike what she and Matt had over Tris. But clearly their fantasies had risen to a whole new level. “Tristan wouldn’t want that,” she said quietly. “He wouldn’t want to share me.” Would he? “You’re so innocent,” Matt murmured, taking her hands in his. “I don’t think I fully realized that till just now. We’ve talked about so much, but you’re still adorably shy.” “Innocent, adorable, and shy. Thanks for the compliments.” Chuckling, he sat up and cupped her cheek. “You’re also wicked sexy, and I want nothing more than to peel off your pants and do what I did last night all over again.” She pressed her thighs together at the throb in her clit. Oh yeah, she wanted that too. So badly she feared having to change her underwear before she got to work. “You really think I’m sexy?” she asked, hating the insecurity in her voice. “Oh yeah.” He turned his face into her hair and took a deep breath. “I get hard every time you look at me, Blue Eyes.” It didn’t take much effort to glance down and see he wasn’t lying. As far as the rest of their conversation? She wasn’t going there. “So why won’t you just finish the job?” “And people accuse me of being unromantic. Shit.” “Is it loyalty to Tris? Did what you—what we did last night count as cheating or something? Are you a couple now?” The questions spilled out of her, stopping only when he eased back and tucked her hair behind her ears. “We’re not a couple. What we do is just about letting off steam.” “That’s not true. That’s not what I saw.” For the first time, he looked away. “It is what it is. We’re not committed to each other, Cait.”

Unwrapped

23

“What do you call it?” “We still sleep with women, still have girlfriends. And when we do, we’re not together. Neither of us are cheaters.” “And neither of you want to make what you have permanent.” His silence gnawed at her, making her jerk away from him and to her feet. “Think I’ll go get some work done.” He nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.” She’d taken a few steps when he spoke again, his voice soft and raw. “Cait.” Trepidation iced her spine. “What?” “What about both of us?” “What about both of you what?” She knew she sounded impatient, but she’d grown tired of this conversation. A full day of work waited for her, and she didn’t want to think about any of this anymore. Not right now. She was getting a headache. Matt rose fluidly, not the least bit ill at ease about his nudity. Why should he be? The guy was sexy as hell. She swallowed hard when he strolled over and tipped up her chin. “You said you wanted it to be one of us who took your virginity. So what if it were both of us?” “Uh, you can’t lose your virginity twice.” “You think?” He licked the inside of his lower lip, and her nipples pushed against her bra. “I think you should let us prove otherwise. Let both of us make love to you. Together.” Cait opened her mouth to answer. She really did. But no words came. How could he ask that of her? Did he think she was some kind of— Her thoughts stilled, the mental threat of the word she hated stopping her short. No. She wasn’t loose, and she wasn’t the sort of woman who’d have a threesome. Especially not the first time she had sex. They were her best friends. She wasn’t a juicy piece of chicken they could split up at dinner. It was flat-out wrong. More wrong than asking them which wanted to be the one to take your virginity? Her belly quivered, everything south heating so fast that she feared embarrassing herself if she didn’t get out of there. She might just agree to anything he asked. Especially since she’d already considered it, throughout the long night when she’d twisted and turned in her bed and remembered Matt and Tris together. She’d tried to stop picturing herself with them, but it was impossible. Her mind insisted on inserting her into every explicit scene she conjured up, each more torrid than the last. Matt leaned in and kissed her lightly. Though his lips scarcely brushed hers, her core contracted as if he’d sucked her nipple into his mouth. “Think about it.” Then he turned around, whistling, and headed off to the shower. Before she chased after him, she hurried downstairs to her desk. Music. She needed music. Anything to drown out the voice in her head. She brought up a Christmas music station online and turned up the volume. Carols would put her in the right frame of mind. Focus on something else.

24

Cari Quinn

Christmas. That worked. They still needed to get a tree for the office. They’d been so incredibly busy for the last few months that none of them had even had a chance to think of decorating, though that was usually Matt’s job anyway. He got a kick out of stringing garland all over the place and putting up gel clings of angels and snowflakes in the windows. She and Tris always teased him it was obvious he’d missed out on the design gene completely, because anyone with an artistic eye would reject that stuff on sight. Last Christmas she’d been seeing Gary. So that was around when this had started between them. Deep in the heart of winter, they’d turned to each other. One night Matt had just reached for Tristan’s zipper and said what the hell and gone to town. Here, probably. In this very office. Which of them had taken the other’s cock in his mouth that first night? All that hard, needy flesh, just begging to be licked and stroked. Deep throated. Swallowed. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her monitor, unable to erase the pictures forming behind her eyes. God, she was losing it. In a minute, she’d spontaneously orgasm, and then she’d be incapable of denying the truth. Tristan and Matt being lovers didn’t disgust her. It fascinated her. She wanted to watch them. Wanted to be a part of them. “Normally you leave fingerprints on the monitor. Now forehead prints? Cripes, Caity, that monitor cost over a grand.” She jolted backward at Tristan’s irritated voice. He stood in the kitchenette, wearing a crisp white Oxford shirt and black dress pants. Though it was still a little wet, his dark hair skimmed his shoulders in perfect waves. As rugged as Matt’s looks were, Tristan’s were classic. He looked like a movie star between takes, with just enough edge to make things interesting. More edge than she’d ever guessed. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a rough lover, but last night had proven her wrong on a lot of scores. Forest green eyes met hers, then glanced pointedly at the floor. “Who broke your mug?” he asked, his tone immediately softening. “Aww, honey, I’m sorry.” All at once, the previous evening rushed back, and she hurried into the kitchen. Wile E. Coyote’s head lay in fat pieces on the hardwood floor. She stared as Tris cleaned up the mess. He swore colorfully while he did it, but he didn’t hesitate. Her sweet, unselfish friend. Okay, that wasn’t true. He could often be selfish. But he wasn’t with her. Never with her. “Tris,” she whispered, crouching to brush her hand over his hair. Just one quick, illicit touch. He turned his head, his gorgeous eyes radiating compassion. “I know that was your favorite. I’ll buy you a new one. Where’d you get it again?” “A shop in California.” “Oh. Well, they must have a Web site, right?” She didn’t think. Her brain threw up a “currently on vacation” sign, and she was left with pure instinct. That instinct made her slide her palm over Tristan’s jaw, still damp from his morning shave, and pull him closer until his eyes were level with hers. “I want to kiss you,” she murmured, shocked to hear the truth fall from her lips.

Unwrapped

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Surprise registered on his face, but not only surprise. Anticipation. Desire. Another amazing trio. “Do you usually ask?” She stroked his cheek, her gaze darting between the path of her fingers and his soft, expectant mouth. “When it’s you, yeah,” she said, drawing her hand away when all she wanted to do was hold on. He dropped the paper towels on the floor and shifted to frame her face in his hands. Hands she’d envisioned on her body so many times. “So do it,” he murmured, leaning in and doing it for her. At first it was the complete antithesis of the kiss she’d shared with Matthew. That one had been crazy, emotional. Uncontrolled. This was a gentle mating of lips. Soft, sweet, and easy. He didn’t press for her to grant him access, but she gave it, opening for him with a low moan. When his tongue curled around hers, she shivered. She was already so aroused from the direction of her thoughts that his drugging kisses short-circuited her senses. She slid her hands up his chest to his broad, corded shoulders, digging her nails into his skin as she angled her mouth over his and took the control she knew he was waiting to give. He swooped in, enfolding her in his strong, steady arms. He tasted so good, like toothpaste and sex. Her mouth explored every nuance of his while the pressure in her belly built. Lazy explorations turned to a mad duel of tongues and lips. She panted, dizzy from lack of oxygen, but she couldn’t have torn herself away from him if her life had been at stake. As frantic as his mouth was, every bit as wild as hers, his hands didn’t roam her body. They stayed securely on her back while she tried to feel as much of him through his clothes as possible. More. Just more. It was the only thought she had left. The sound of coffee dripping into the carafe made them jerk apart. Breath heaving, she dropped her forehead to his and closed her eyes. What the hell had she just done? “Morning, kids,” Matt said, his cheerful hello nearly sending her stumbling backward onto the floor. Though her muscles protested from crouching for so long, she still didn’t move. She felt frozen in place. “Sleep well?” She shot Matt a hateful glance and said nothing. Tristan’s arms held fast around her, keeping her in place. “Guess you didn’t have a chance to start the coffee,” she said to Tristan. Tristan shook his head. “Hadn’t gotten that far.” “Figures.” He ran a hand down her hair as he spoke to Matt. “Finesse, pal. Learn it.” Cait stared hard at Matt, mentally willing him to remember what she’d said last night. Don’t say a word. Matt shrugged and turned away, reaching into an overhead cabinet for a cup. “Sorry. You want privacy, you know where the bedrooms are.” That got her moving. “I have work to do,” she said stiffly, pushing at Tristan’s biceps. “Now that’s what I like to hear. Which one of us should drop his pants first?”

26

Cari Quinn

“Jesus, Matt. Shut the hell up.” Tris brushed his fingertip over her swollen lower lip, his gaze searching hers. “You okay?” he asked in an undertone. “I’ll get you another mug.” In spite of the tears one blink away from filling her eyes, she managed to smile. “Sure. Fine. Can I get up now?” He released her, and she rose unsteadily. “How’d the mug get broken anyway?” he asked, grabbing the dustpan. Cait glanced at Matt and caught his smug little smile. “I can’t remember.” Before Matt could make another smart comment, she headed back to her desk. She dropped into her chair and swiveled to face her computer, then clicked open her latest design project. One stilted attempt at normalcy coming right up. Tristan immediately engaged Matt in some inane banter about Abe Donnelly’s latest overthe-top demands. She didn’t listen. Now that she’d made an impossible situation even worse, she was going back to work.

**** “She’s a good kisser, huh?” “What?” His mind on his current crisis—what to order for lunch from the takeout menu in his hand—Tristan almost didn’t hear Matt. Then his brain clicked into gear, and he turned to glare at his best friend. “What did you just say?” “Cait. She’s a good kisser. But then we always knew she would be. Don’t think you got past her mouth, but believe you me, the rest of her is just as responsive.” Before Matt’s words fully pierced the haze in his brain, Tris noted his best friend’s smirk. He’d seen that smirk before. That was the expression Matt wore when he’d set his sights on a new conquest. Or had already enjoyed one. In an instant, Tris hurtled out of his chair and pushed Matt against the wall. He lifted his knee, fully intent on shoving it into Matt’s groin. “What did you do to her?” he demanded. “Not nearly enough. And you might want to mind the knee. You’ll regret it later.” “I asked you a goddamned question. How do you know what kind of kisser she is?” “Sit down. You’re hungry and you’re tired, and as usual your testosterone’s doing the talking.” Matt’s jaw popped as he yawned. “We’re both tired. So ease off and I’ll tell you.” Tris stepped back a fraction. “This is as far as I’m going. Start talking.” “You’re getting the abridged version. There’s a couple of reasons for that, mainly that she doesn’t want you to know.” Now he sat. “Why?” Matt rolled back up to his desk. He resumed whatever he’d been doing, moving his hand in wide swings on the mouse. “You know Cait,” he said dismissively. “Always has her reasons. But in this case, I don’t think she’s altogether wrong. You’re both impossible to deal with. Which is why from here on out, we’re doing this my way.” Tristan reached for the laminated menu, then let it drop forgotten in his lap. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t concentrate on food at the moment, roaring stomach be damned.

Unwrapped

27

He’d been having enough trouble all morning, between trying to forget the feeling of Caity’s mouth on his and his futile efforts to decipher the thick-as-mud tension between his two partners. Maybe he’d finally figure out just what the hell was going on in his own damn house. Because something clearly was. Sometime between when Matt had gone downstairs to supposedly call his mother last night and this morning, something had transpired between Caity and Matt. Whatever it was, that had to be the explanation for Caity kissing him this morning. He’d been turning it over all day, wondering why the hell she’d made a move on him. Why now? He certainly hadn’t minded. In fact, he was already counting the minutes until it happened again. But still. Something had to have given her a push. And he had a feeling he was looking at him. “You kissed her,” Tris stated. “When?” “Last night.” “When last night? You were with me last night, if you’ve forgotten.” Even Tristan could hear the undercurrent in his tone. Hell if he could decipher if he was jealous about Matt getting with Cait—or vice versa. Either way they hadn’t been with him. “Yeah, I remember.” Matt banged his mouse. “I also remember looking at the doorway while you were cleaning up and realizing we had an observer.” Tristan fisted his hands on the arms of his chair. “You’re not serious.” “Deadly.” “Jesus.” Tris closed his eyes and tried not to imagine what Caity had witnessed. “Did she—is she—” “She’s all right. Now. She was shocked, but she got over it fast.” Again the smirk, and Tris’s stomach tightened. “I distracted her.” “How?” Matt arched a brow and shifted to face him, hands sprawled on his stomach. “Sure you want the gory details?” “The details of how you clearly left my bed and went to hers? Why not?” Though he wasn’t altogether sure he did. But he’d be damned if they left him out of the loop any longer. But instead of Matt spilling, he reached for his soda and tipped it back to his mouth for a long swallow. Then he sighed. “She was pretty pissed and just as much hurt. I came down here to try to explain, but we started baiting each other and things went from there.” Tris rolled his eyes. As if Matt and Caity sniping at each other was anything new. “Baiting each other about what?” Matt lifted his head and stared him straight in the eye. “You.” “Me?” “Yeah. We made it into a competition about which of us wanted you more. And then we circled around wanting each other. I’m still not really sure where we stand on that score. I mean, I know where I stand, and I know she wants use of my dick, but as for more than that, no clue.” Tristan shook his head, trying to comprehend what Matt was telling him. “You fought over me. Then you fought over each other. And she wants use of your dick?”

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Cari Quinn

“Yours too.” Matt saluted him with his soda. “Our little Cait has her share of needs, it seems.” Tris picked up his own bottle of soda and rolled it between his palms. “You’re not telling me everything,” he said softly. “And I’m guessing what you’re leaving out involves sex.” “Things escalated. But no, we didn’t have sex. She wanted to, though, as part of her big master plan.” Matt shrugged. “Let’s just say she had plans for both of us that went beyond quick kisses and fumbling clutches. And before you ask what kind of plans, use your damn imagination.” “Already doing that,” Tris replied, his stomach roiling with the pictures his mind insisted on forming. What exactly had happened? More to the point, what experiences had they shared without him? He released a long breath. No wonder Caity had been so shocked and hurt. She’d been the one left out of things going on right under her nose, and now he was in that role. And he didn’t like it one bit. “Anyway, the point is this. She’s ready for us, Tris. We just need to do this the right way. My way.” “You kissed her. What else?” “Man, you’re fixated, aren’t you?” “Wouldn’t you be?” Matt nodded and sipped more soda. “Hell yeah. Let’s just say other parts of her taste as good as her mouth.” “Not surprised.” With effort, Tristan tried to focus on the conversation and not what parts of Caity Matt had gotten to sample. Lost cause. “You didn’t get her naked.” “No. But if I could’ve, I would have. And I wouldn’t have felt guilty. She’s been the goal all along. We ended up being a pleasant side trip, but we weren’t planned. Doesn’t mean we can’t alter the plan a bit now, though.” “Seriously, Matt, I’m way too freaking hungry to try to make sense of what you’re saying. Get to the point, would you?” And leave me in peace to try to figure out why the hell Caity kissed me. Beyond the obvious, of course. She was clearly stretching their boundaries, between what had happened with him and from what had occurred with Matt. Whatever the hell that was. But there was more to it. The kiss this morning had almost felt like a test. He still didn’t know if he’d passed or failed. Caity had taken off early a short while ago, but she hadn’t said a word about anything but work to either him or Matt all morning. Nor had she flirted or teased or even flipped her hair. Hadn’t mattered. His dick was still as hard as a damn brick. He’d had her in his arms. Her peachy scent still clung to his skin. Their kiss had taken the many fantasies he’d had of her and destroyed them. None of them could hold a candle to the reality of Caity’s lips heating under his and hearing her soft, sweet moans. “Her birthday’s next weekend.” “I know that.” Impatience oozed from Tristan’s voice. “Your point?”

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“I want the three of us to go up to my cabin.” “Okay,” he began, belatedly catching the intensity of the look in Matthew’s eyes. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” “Absolutely. She wants us. And we’re going to give her what she can’t admit she needs, but first we’re going to play hard to get. No more kisses. No more looks. When she comes back in here tonight, treat her like one of the guys.” “No. I’m not doing this to her. She has no clue what she’s playing with.” “Tristan.” Matt’s sharp command made him suck in a breath. “She’s shy, and she’s innocent, but she doesn’t want to be. Trust me on that.” “Caity shy?” He couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Since when?” “Since I asked her this morning to give herself to both of us, for a start.” Matthew banged his mouse hard enough to make Tristan wince. They were always fucking with the equipment. Which had been important, oh, a few hours ago. Now he had much bigger problems. “You asked her to what? Are you fucking crazy? She’s not like other girls. She isn’t ready for—” Words failed him, and he tensed his fingers around his soda until the plastic buckled. “She’s just not.” Matthew wheeled away from his desk and faced Tristan across the few feet that separated their workstations. “She knows about us, and she still came on to you this morning. You didn’t kiss her, did you?” Tristan shook his head numbly, still trying to process everything. “No. I startled her, and then I saw she’d broken her mug… No. I didn’t kiss her.” “She knows we’re lovers, and she’s turned on by it. She’s curious. And there’s no way in hell I’m losing this opportunity to go after what we need. All three of us.” Matt’s voice lowered. “You’re not going to argue with me, got it? And if you don’t, I can promise you we’ll have what we always wanted: Cait.” Reason demanded he argue. He always argued. Just because Matt directed everything behind the scenes at TD didn’t mean he knew jack about dealing with women outside of the bedroom. His many failed relationships proved that. But then again, so did Tristan’s. And he was desperate. He’d finally tasted Caity. How was he supposed to forget that? Tristan closed his eyes and blew out a breath. When he opened them again, Matthew’s gaze was still fixed on his. “Tell me the plan.”

30

Cari Quinn

Chapter Four He was a genius. And his quarry was signed, sealed, and delivered. Well, she wasn’t signed, sealed, and delivered yet. But she would be within the next ninety minutes, all listening gods of sex willing. Matthew snapped the black leather gloves in place and peered out the frosty windshield at Mercer Salon. Somewhere inside, Cait was getting prettified, though why she bothered he didn’t know. She was already gorgeous. Maybe she’d gotten a manicure or pedicure to go with her new hairdo. He was never sure what exactly went on in women’s salons. Regardless, soon she’d be coming outside to walk the two blocks back to their office. And he’d be waiting. Tristan had needed a lot of convincing to go along with this plan, and that had been the sanitized version. Matt had said he’d “get” Cait up to his cabin, but he hadn’t specified how. If he had, Tristan would’ve said no way and likely knocked him unconscious to boot. A smile tipped up Matt's mouth as he eyed the salon. It was a risky move, granted. Bold. Possibly primed to fail. But at least they were doing something. For too long they’d sat around pining, and for what? They needed to proceed to the next step. Fast. For the past week, since Cait had discovered Matt and Tris in bed, she’d avoided them both. Other than the heated convo with him in his bedroom and that kiss with Tris the morning after, she’d steered clear of them entirely. Making his move before their relationship fractured any more was the only logical decision. In a perfect world, the three of them would’ve been able to talk this out in a calm, rational fashion, but Cait and Tris weren’t prone to being calm. And he loved them both without reservation, so what the hell did that say about him? Love made most men into fools. That one of the people he loved was another guy didn’t mitigate that fact in the slightest. Besides, he knew he was doing the right thing. The only thing. Despite her apparent horror at the suggestion, Cait would come around. And when she did, she’d already be naked and preferably bound, a very good thing for all of them. She’d told him about her recurring dream of being kidnapped and tied up more than once, always ascribing it to watching too many pirate movies with damsels in distress. But he suspected there was more to it. He’d seen the heat in her eyes and heard the undercurrent in her voice when she'd described those dreams, though she'd been careful to leave out any sexual details. That was all right by him. They’d fill in their own sexual details tonight. Even if Tris had known about her dreams—hell, they were damn near fantasies with as often as she’d had them—he still would have balked at doing this. For an instant, maybe more, Cait would be afraid. There could be no avoiding that. And that instant, even if it soon turned to arousal, would be more than Tristan could stand.

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Matt took the broader view. True, she’d be scared, but briefly. If he was right, that would only make the edge of desire that followed that much sweeter. If he wasn’t, she’d help Tris lop off his nuts. Matt climbed down from his truck and pulled up his hooded sweatshirt. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and blew out an impatient breath as he headed toward the back of the SUV. A mixture of nerves and excitement fueled his pacing, but he tried not to attract any attention or make much noise. There weren’t many people around at dinnertime on a Friday night the week before Christmas. Most people tended to congregate in the shopping district. Mercer Street offered mostly offices with the occasional salon and eye-care place thrown in. Quite fortuitous that the salon had an alley next to it. Another bit of luck was that the snow showers predicted in the mountains overnight hadn't shifted down this way. Not that he minded the snow, but the road up to the cabin could be treacherous when the temperature dipped below freezing. He had precious cargo to deliver. Precious, probably wiggling, screaming cargo. That was where the blindfold and gag came in. Yeah, the probability she’d hate him was high. But the higher the odds, the more worthwhile the rewards. That was true in both business and life. Cait, he suspected, would take worthwhile to a whole new level. A few minutes later, she emerged from the salon, her long golden hair shimmering in the beam of light spilling out from inside. His blood humming, he watched her lift her face to the gently falling snow—his luck had broken there—and lick the flakes off her lips. Smiling, she took her first step toward the alley. He waited until she’d walked past the SUV and then sprang, grabbing her neatly around the waist with one arm while he used his other hand to cover her mouth. “Don’t fight. You’re safe. I won't hurt you.” He repeated the phrases against her ear as she clawed and kicked and…bit. “Jesus,” he ground out, not letting her go in spite of his burning palm. She’d ruined his glove. Worth it, but still. “Dammit, Cait, it’s me,” he muttered when she continued to struggle like a wild thing in his arms. So much for trying to add a little mystery. The scenario hadn’t quite accounted for her stark-raving terror. Which he might have underestimated. Significantly. “It’s Matt, Cait. Your best friend?” Used to be anyway. “Stop it, Cait,” he panted, turning her around and pinning her against his SUV when a woman hurried past them, her attention centered on the ground. Cait stared at him, her eyes huge and dark in her starkly pale face. Tears squeezed between her lashes and tracked down her cheeks, shattering his heart in two. Christ, what had he done? “I’m sorry,” he said, and never had it been more true. He’d only wanted to make a grand gesture. Something over the top and sexy, with that little added tinge of fear. Maybe he'd hoped that would allow him to control her too—just long enough to get her to listen to reason. His reason. And that was just as wrong as the rest. She was still quivering, though her tears had halted. He tugged back the hood of his sweatshirt, but it didn’t make a difference. She still looked at him as if he were a stranger. “Why?” she whispered, and that word sounded as if it had been wrested from her soul. “Why would you do this?”

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Cari Quinn

“Will you come with me?” he asked, knowing he was on the thinnest ice ever. “Where?” Matt lifted his fingers to stroke her cheekbone. Her expression had already shifted from scared to speculative. Though she was still wary, her body relaxed against his. Small progress. “Do you trust me, Cait?” “I don’t know.” Her quick reply made a rumble of laughter rise up in his chest. She wasn’t the only one dealing with the aftereffects of a serious spike of emotion. “My plan was to grab you, throw you in the SUV, and tie you up,” he said in a low voice. “Gag you, maybe even blindfold you. And it was a good plan, until I had you in my arms and you damn near killed me.” She didn’t smile. “Do you have any idea how frightened I was? That’s every woman’s worst nightmare to be grabbed off the street.” “I thought you’d get off on it. Eventually. The complete loss of power, being under a man’s total control—” “We aren’t in a bedroom, Matt! We’re on a city street, and I had no clue it was you. I thought I was going to die,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, cradling her face in his hands as he had since college whenever she was upset. They’d been friends forever, and he’d comforted her so many times when she cried. But he’d never been the cause of her tears before. “You know I love you.” Fear fisted his throat. “That I’d never intentionally hurt you.” “So why do you keep doing it?” “Because I’m an idiot. Completely.” Only having her shaking in his arms had driven that point home. He’d been thinking with his overeager dick, not his head. Tristan never would’ve let him get away with this stunt. And for good reason. “He’s in on it too?” she asked, almost as if she could read his mind. “No.” Matt shook his head. "He didn’t know my plans. You know how he is with you. You’re his precious Caity Bait.” He’d hoped to make her smile, but she didn’t. Good job, asshole. “This was all me,” he continued into the silence. “You kept telling me about those pirate dreams, and I thought you’d be a little scared, yeah, but turned on more.” “Turned on by being kidnapped? In a dark alley? Have you been reading bodice rippers or something?” She punched him in the shoulder, eliciting a wince. But he didn't deflect the blow. He deserved it and more. “I was terrified. And I can tell you in all honesty, I was not aroused.” “How about now?” Her eyes narrowed, but he saw the beginnings of a smile twitch on her lips. “There is something very wrong with me that I love you.” He brushed his mouth over her temple and just breathed in her scents. Her erotically chaste peach blossom lotion combined with the ripe scent of her skin, seducing him effortlessly. “Agreed. But I’m beyond grateful that you do. And I want to repay you, with interest. Let me create the fantasy for you I should’ve given you a choice in to start with.”

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33

“What kind of fantasy? First you kidnap me. Then you tie me up. What comes next? Raping and pillaging?” “Depends. That can be arranged. Well, not the raping part. I insist on consent.” Taking a chance, he stepped away to open the passenger door of his SUV. He reached inside and withdrew the length of black silk bondage rope he’d left coiled on the seat. Pulling it through his hands, he turned back and cocked his head. From her quick inhalation, she wasn’t totally against the idea. “Just your hands,” he said. “Unless you want ankles too.” “So, what, then you can carry me around?” “Sure. Works for me.” He moved closer and drew the end of the rope along her jaw, studying the way her lips parted as she took in more air. This past week had been horrible. The chasm between the two of them had grown until he’d been certain his impromptu plan wasn’t just one possible solution, it was the only one. If he didn’t get her away from the so-called real world and force her to confront her true feelings for them, it would never happen. She’d never come to them on her own. He’d hoped that kiss with Tristan might’ve been a start to something. Instead she’d thrown herself into work with a vengeance. Hell, she’d barely even helped him decorate the tree he’d gotten for the office, and Christmas was her favorite holiday. The rest of the week, she’d avoided them as much as possible. She hadn’t teased him and Tris about what they were buying her for her birthday as she did every year. Nor had she discussed spending her birthday with them, which was standing tradition. If tonight didn’t go the way he’d planned, he didn’t know how they’d survive it. All he knew was they couldn’t lose her. Tris was just as miserable as he was, sterling proof of what he’d always known deep down. If there was no Cait, there could be no them. She was the glue that held them together. Without her, the pieces simply didn’t fit. She took the rope from him and pulled it through her fingers. “Where’d you get this? The hardware store?” “No,” he said, lips curving. Showing her everything she’d missed would be amazing. If she ever decided to trust him. “It’s real bondage rope. From a sex shop,” he added when she gawked. “You buy supplies at a sex shop?” “There are two I use, actually. Not all the time. But when I have a reason to, yeah.” “You’re into bondage.” A tremor shook her voice. Whether it was from the cold or excitement, he didn’t know. “I experiment,” he said lightly. “Now and then.” “In the apartment?” “Of course not. With you and Tris a couple of feet away? No, thanks.” “Especially now that he’s your…lover.” “As I said, we still sleep with other people. Women,” he clarified. He heard her swallow. “Do you share other women?” Other women. As if she’d finally consented to maybe, possibly thinking of them sharing her.

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Matt’s cock hardened so fast he had to brace a hand on his truck to keep from reaching for her. Easy. He couldn’t fuck this up. Not again. “No. You’re the only one we want.” She turned her head away, her long hair blowing in the wind. A strand caught against her mouth, and she tugged it free as she faced him once more. “I don’t know much. Sexually, I mean. Standard stuff, sure. I’m good at blowjobs.” Laughing, he placed a finger over her lips. “This isn’t an audition. We’d want you even if you only wanted straight sex, nothing kinky required. Or even no sex. That’d be harder to handle, granted, but it’s true. If all you did was let us make you feel good without giving us anything in return, we’d die happy. Seriously.” “Somehow I doubt that,” she said, again stroking the rope. “Where you’re taking me,” she said after a moment. “Tristan will be there too?” “Of course.” “I’m just not sure, Matt.” “So let us give you the fantasy. And if it gets to be too much, tell us. We’ll stop. You know that.” He closed his fingers around hers on the rope. “Trust us, Cait.” She looked up into his eyes, her bravery and innocence an unbeatable combination. Silently, she held out her wrists. “Cait?” he asked, afraid to hope. Unable to breathe. “I trust you,” she murmured.

**** Cait pressed her cheek against the freezing car window. Maybe she’d cool off if she didn’t move from this position. Ha, fat chance. They’d been driving what felt like forever. Nine Inch Nails played on the CD changer, and every now and then, she’d hear the tires spinning on ice, along with Matt’s soft curses. Then he’d fall into silence again, and she’d find herself sitting straighter, her ears pricked for any sound. Any movement. Even a deep breath, similar to the kind she’d taken often over the last hour. In just over twenty-four hours, she would turn twenty-five. She’d be spending her birthday weekend with her best friends, as she had since college. Only difference? She’d be spending this one bound, blindfolded, and naked. She’d skipped the gag. God, she couldn’t believe Matt had all that stuff. Even if he’d bought things specially for tonight, it blew her mind. Jeez, she’d lived and worked with the guys for years. How well did she really know them? For that matter, how well did she know herself? She had layers she’d never guessed before this week. Obviously Matt and Tris did too. Clearly, she was naive. Matt had been participating in things like this for years, even going so far as to initiate Tristan into sex with another guy, for God’s sake. And she didn’t think she’d be much more able to hold out against Matt than he had—in just a week, she’d almost broken a dozen times. Yesterday she’d spent half the night pacing between her bed and the wall, trying to talk herself out of going to Tristan’s bedroom, after she’d taken a detour to Matt’s first.

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The little freak wanted to come out and play. In a very real way, she needed to. Between Marnie’s latest pregnancy and the situation with Val, never mind all the tension with the guys, she felt ready to explode. And heaven help her, when she exploded, she wanted it to be at their hands. “Almost there,” Matt murmured, reaching back to rub her knee. She couldn’t see him, of course. Since she’d opted for the blindfold to go with the restraints—in for a penny, right?—he’d situated her in the backseat to avoid being seen by passing motorists. Without her vision, she had only her hearing and sense of touch. The silk rope around her wrists didn’t hurt. It actually felt kind of good. He’d explained it was designed for sex play, meant to rub the skin in a pleasurable way. When coated with oil, it would feel even better. Which he just happened to have. What a surprise. Cait released a shaky breath as he removed his warm palm from her leg. God, she’d jumped at just that simple touch. With the loss of some senses, others had become more acute. Every smell seemed magnified. She cataloged the fake pine from the little tree air freshener hanging from his rearview mirror, the faint chemical aroma from her highlights. His mountaincrisp aftershave, as wintry as the night outside. Wintergreen from the gum he was chewing. There was one more scent. One more aroma. She might’ve been imagining it, but she didn’t think so. She’d worn a short skirt today with leggings, and she could feel the slight chafe from the soaked fabric between her thighs. Hard to deny that sort of proof. As soon as they touched her, they’d know. She wouldn’t be able to hide anything from them. A few minutes later, the SUV shuddered to a stop. When her door opened with a gush of cold air, she shivered. “Just a couple of feet.” His voice sounded rough. Delicious. “Here, let me guide you.” “Thought you were going to carry me.” She’d only been teasing, but a moment later he held her securely in his arms. “You didn’t want your ankles done, so I figured you wanted to walk.” He brushed a quick kiss over her ear. “Believe me, I don’t mind.” He jostled her to get the truck door closed, and then he started walking. With every step, she bounced in his hold. She couldn’t cling to him in her dark, visionless prison. All she could do was remain motionless and hope for the best. “I don’t like this, Matt. I can’t hold on. Can’t see.” “That’s the whole point of trust. You have to believe I can keep you safe. That we can.” “So if you fall on the snow and break your leg, I’ll trust the universe likes me too?” He chuckled, shifting her as he stepped up. With a few more bumps, she heard the creak of a door being opened. The cold at her back disappeared as warmth suffused her front. “We’re here. Home sweet home.” He kissed her again, on her jaw this time. His lips were soft and gentle. Enticing. “Nothing’s broken. You’re all in one piece.” “Small favors.” She finally relaxed as he set her down on what she assumed was a padded chair near the source of the warmth. Crackling confirmed her suspicions. “A fireplace! Oh God, I just had an orgasm.” “Not yet, you didn’t. Soon, my pretty.” His slightly sinister voice made her giggle in spite of being trussed up like a Christmas goose. “Along those lines, I’m going to undress you.”

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She immediately stiffened. Why, she didn’t know. She’d known where this was going. “Where’s Tristan?” she asked, mainly to stall. If Matt said he’d be there, she knew he would be. “He’s here somewhere. He got the fire and the tree going. So he’s around. Don’t you want to be ready for him?” “If it involves an apple in my mouth, then no.” “You’re not a pig. The gag I had in mind was soft, just a way to take away another of your senses.” Tense fingers cupped her cheek. “Unless you’d like another kind of gag entirely.” Her heartbeat kicked into triple time at the implication. “Can we…ease into that?” Matt stroked her hair, threading through the windblown strands with patented patience. “Of course.” Matt didn’t mind working on TD’s books or their computers for hours, content to take his time to do things right. Tristan was the quick-tempered, impulsive one who wanted everything now, now, now. He even hated waiting through commercials. But when it came to making big decisions, Matt often gave the appearance of acting without much forethought while Tristan waited until he was sure before leaping. Matt claimed he never did anything without considering all the angles; he just thought faster than most people. Tristan, on the other hand, usually refused to be budged from his initial assessment. He took steadfast to a whole new level. What a contrast the two men were. And soon they would be her lovers. She quivered and hated herself for it. Buck up, dammit. You want this. Here’s your chance to explore. For a night. A weekend. And then you can go back to the way things were before. Could she? Was that even an option on the table? Or by doing this, did they think she’d agreed to be the filling in their sandwich permanently? Because she hadn’t. She wouldn’t. She was not like her mother or Marnie and Ginny. Sex didn’t drive her. And this wasn’t even normal sex. Who lived in a permanent threesome? Threesomes were for wild weekends in Cabo. Or, apparently, Eastlake, Wisconsin. But this was only temporary. She had goals, plans…a fucking life. And Tristan and Matthew are the cornerstones of it. “I’m going to undress you now,” he said softly. “But it’s warm enough in here you won’t be cold. We’ll keep the fire going.” She dug her nails into her palms and gritted her teeth. Her wild weekend was about to begin. She’d be damned if she’d be anything but a full participant. “Here, let me help.” She pushed at the back of her boot with the opposite foot. “I can’t wait to be naked. See? I’m really excited about that.” He laughed and helped ease off her boot. “You will be. You’re just nervous.” “Nah. First-time jitters coupled with first-time bondage and first-time threesome. Piece of cake.” “We’re not going to do anything you don’t want. Unless you want us to play it that way. And even so, one look into your big, beautiful blue eyes and Tristan will do whatever you want.” “Can we tie him up?”

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“Sure.” His voice took on a wicked edge as he drew off her other boot. “Think I’d like that, actually.” She bit her lower lip. “I…want to watch you two. Together. I mean, when you know I’m there.” “I know.” He whistled under his breath as he nudged up her skirt and saw her thigh-high leggings. They weren’t overtly sexy, just patterned tights topped with lace. But he obviously liked what he saw. “God, that’s hot.” She wet her lips and stifled her tremors at his closeness to her saturated slit. In a minute, he’d see the evidence of her excitement. “It doesn’t bother you? That I want to watch you together?” “Hell no. I intend to be doing plenty of watching myself when it comes to you and Tris. Speaking of…” He paused in the act of rolling down her tights, then hurried up and pulled her legs free. “Think I hear him outside. All hell’s about to break loose, so prepare yourself.” “Huh?” The door creaked open, and she stilled, picturing herself as Tristan must. Bound wrists in her lap, blindfolded, bare legs, pushed-up skirt. Probably very large, distinct wet spot on panties under that skirt. At first there was no sound. Then the world exploded with it. “What the fuck is this? Why is she tied up? Caity—” But it wasn’t Matt that spoke. Cait’s clear, strong voice was the one that rose above the rest. “I wanted it, Tristan. I asked him to tie me up. To blindfold me. To…” What would wanton women demand from their men first? “To eat my pussy,” she said, hoping she sounded sexy and not scared. A near thing, that. “Now he’s undressing me, as you can see. You’re welcome to help.” “Caitlyn,” Tristan said, the rage in his tone subsiding as his footsteps approached. Something heavy hit the floor next to her chair, and then he was kneeling in front of her, his big hands dwarfing her bare thighs. “You don’t have to do this.” When Tristan used that voice, everything inside her went soft and liquid. As always. “We don’t expect this of you, sweetheart.” All at once, she was sixteen again, wearing a push-up bra and a dress designed to make men’s tongues hang out. Tristan had come upon her drunk and half-passed out at a frat party. She wouldn’t have been able to stop any guy who tried something. Actually, in that state, she probably would’ve encouraged it and not remembered a damn thing later. Trusting Tristan in that situation hadn’t been a choice so much as a nondecision. Within a month, he’d been her best friend. When Tristan’s little sister, Connie, died of complications from cystic fibrosis several months later, she’d practically moved into his dorm room. Then Tristan met Matt in one of his computer classes the second half of freshman year, and he quickly became the third spoke of their trio. She’d loved the way Matt made them laugh, how he came up with such crazy, fun ideas. When Tristan had decided to start his own design business, Cait and Matt not being a part of it hadn’t even been a consideration. Her feelings for the guys had been platonic for so long. Until they weren’t anymore. Those feelings had grown and intensified no matter how hard she tried to push them down. She’d come

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up with the plan to lose her virginity while still denying any deeper reason for wanting to be intimate with them. If last week had never happened, she’d still be denying. Well, not anymore. They’d done everything together for so long. She wanted to share in the physical closeness they’d found. Needed to as much as she needed the air in her lungs. “I expect it of me,” she said quietly. “Matt was right. I want this. And I’m not a liar. Or I won’t be anymore. If I expect the truth from both of you, I have to give it in return.” “What did you lie about?” “A lot of things.” She took a breath. “I planned on seducing one of you for my birthday as a gift to me. I wanted you both. I couldn’t choose.” “How could you seduce one of us if you didn’t know who you wanted?” “I figured we could discuss which of you would be the lucky driller.” Matt’s muffled laughter didn’t keep her from continuing. “I wanted what I wanted the way I wanted it on my terms.” I still do. “One night, no strings.” Her only response was Tristan’s jagged breaths. “Tris,” Matt began in an even voice, deducing things were heading south. “Hear her out.” “You wanted to treat us like horses sent out for stud. When all we’ve ever done is love you.” “And each other,” she whispered bitterly. “And each other! I wasn’t part of that, was I?” Tristan hesitated for a moment. An eternity. “You weren’t ready to accept us. We would’ve been honest with you if we’d believed you could understand.” “Yeah, because I’m a child. I’m two days away from being twenty-five. Only two years younger than both of you. I’m not a fucking child. I’m woman enough to plot to seduce you, aren’t I? And I’m woman enough to sit here with my body on fire and not beg you to do me the favor of taking the choice out of my hands so I can tell myself I’m not like my mother or my sisters.” Defiantly, she lifted her chin. “If I’m doing this, I’m in all the way. I’ll participate in every step.” “What?” His whisper was stunned, harsh. “What are you saying? What choice?” Much to her mortification, a single hot tear squeezed out from under her blindfold, its salty path scoring her cheek like the tip of a blade. “I’m a virgin.” She couldn’t see him reel back, but she felt it. His hands left her lap, baring her to the cold air. “You’ve had boyfriends. A lot of them.” “Not that many.” She knew she sounded defensive. “And I could’ve dated a battalion, but I didn’t let them in my pants.” Her face flamed. “Well, beyond certain things.” “Trust me, Cait, now’s not the time for that,” Matt said, humor lacing his tone. “Just stick with the virgin line.” “It’s not a line. I was waiting.” “For what?” Tristan asked, each word heavy with weariness. “For the two of you.” She closed her eyes behind the blindfold. “And you know what? You’re taking way too fucking long.”

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The silence that descended threatened to eat away at her sanity. She knew they were looking at each other, wordlessly communicating in that way they had. A way she would never be privy to. “You heard the lady,” Matt said. “So are you going to finish undressing her or am I?”

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Chapter Five A virgin. Tristan stared at Matthew, still shocked into inaction. Coming in here to find Caity tied up had been bad enough. Now this. He started to speak, but Caity cut him off. “So help me God, Tristan, if you ask me if I’m sure or tell me I don’t need sex, I’ll knee you hard enough to make Matthew cry. I’m not a delicate little flower, damn you. You saved me once. You don’t have to keep doing it over and over again, Superman.” Delicate little flower. He almost snorted at that. Looking at her right now—hands bound, eyes covered, and legs spread wantonly, revealing the damp spot on her lacy red panties— delicate was not the word he had in mind. Saving her wasn’t at the top of his list either. Back when he’d acted as her rescuer at her first frat party, he’d seen her as just a cute kid, two years younger than most of her classmates. She’d graduated early from high school, though she’d been determined to do whatever her friends did. Drink, flirt shamelessly, tease guys. When he’d stepped in before that teasing went too far, he’d taken her back to his room and let her sleep off the booze. She’d awakened embarrassed and grateful, sparking one of the truest, deepest friendships he’d ever had. And now he was risking it. “You really want to know what I think you are?” he asked as he returned to her chair and knelt down again. “Tris—” He laid a finger over her lips, and she ground her teeth together. In a minute, she’d be biting him. He couldn’t wait. “Matt’s not interrupting me, but you are. Know why? Because he’s seen me in ways you haven’t. When the civility’s stripped away and there aren’t words left. The way you’re going to see me soon enough. If we let you watch.” He took immense satisfaction in the slackening of her jaw. “That’s dependent on how much talking you do between now and then. We have ways of keeping you quiet. If you think we won’t…well, you’re thinking wrong.” Her lips parted as if she were about to speak. Then she pursed her mouth and waited. He glanced over his shoulder at Matt, who hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and grinned. “Get her naked, Tris.” Tristan turned back to Caity and undid the buttons of her coat. Once he’d pulled the panels open to reveal her winter white sweater, he traced the delicate chain at her neck. She shuddered. He drew his fingertip down the valley between her breasts, over the soft rise of her belly to the waistband of her skirt. He recognized it as one of the shortest she owned.

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How many times had she teased his dick into brutal awareness with a glimpse of her in that ass-sculpting skirt? Too many times. Tonight, she’d pay for every one of them. He hooked his fingers in her waistband and tugged. She helped, lifting her hips to make it easier. Oh yeah, she was ready for them. Finally. Once he’d pulled the skirt free of her body, he tossed it aside and swallowed hard at the sight of her skimpy panties. That taunting strip of wet right down the center had only grown while he undressed her. “You said you’ve done things,” he murmured, grazing her moisture with the pad of his finger. “Like what?” “Wh-what do you mean?” “What have you let men do to you, Caity?” “Am I allowed to speak?” He chuckled, pressing down hard enough on the circle of wet to make her gasp. “Yes.” “Normal things.” “Oh, my favorite word. Normal. Because Matt and I are abnormal. Right?” “Uh-oh,” Matt said from behind him. He’d taken a seat on the couch and had already undone his belt. Obviously he was prepared to spring into action at a moment’s notice. “Cait, have I taught you nothing?” “That’s not what I meant. Honestly.” She licked her lips. “I’ve done everything but actual penetration.” “So you’ve let a guy eat your pussy,” Tristan said nonchalantly, still circling. When she blanched, he chuckled again. “You wanted this. Now you’re going to get it.” He waited a beat, then demanded, “Or are you blushing for a different reason?” “Uh, I’d vote for a different reason,” Matt offered from the couch. Tristan pressed his finger harder. This time he didn’t stop until he could feel the swollen bud between her folds. “Did you let Matt eat you out, Caity?” “More like skim some off the top,” Matt said when she didn’t respond. “You’re lucky you’re over there,” Caity muttered, making Matt laugh. “So, like this, then? Through your panties.” Tris bent and arrowed his tongue into the cleft of her sex, flicking hard. His dick tightened painfully. Holy shit, she was delicious. Now he understood why Matt had looked so smug when he’d talked about tasting her. Her flavor was as hot and sweet as the peaches she always smelled like. She released a long moan, the most perfect sound he’d ever heard. “Yes. Like that.” She threw back her head and exposed the long, vulnerable line of her throat. “More. Please.” He did it again, alternating the speed and pressure of his strokes. Her body bowed before slumping down to wait for the next swipe. She spread her legs wide and tipped her pelvis to give him maximum access, her body responding so enthusiastically to his attention that occasionally a drop of her juice seeped onto the chair. “He’s better at this than I am. I’d say I’m better at other things, but I’ll leave you to decide that for yourself.”

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“Braggart,” Matt said, making Tristan shoot him a grin over his shoulder. Matt had already taken out his cock and fisted it as he slid his hand up and down. Tris’s own shaft lurched, and he hissed out a breath. He needed to get this show moving or he’d be impressing Caity with how fast he could come without any stimulation at all. “Prove to us what you want, Caity. We want to hear you beg. See you open yourself up for our mouths.” “My hands—” Tristan untied her, but not for the reason she thought. He pulled off her coat and discarded it on the hearth, then did the same with her cardigan sweater. Beneath she wore nothing but a tiny scrap of bra that matched her panties. With two flicks of the front clasp, her breasts were free. They were small, compact like the rest of her. But her puckered, dark pink nipples were not. They already looked as if they’d been sucked. Hard. He brought her shoulders flush with the chair. “Arch your back.” She did, thrusting her sexy breasts high, and he grabbed her arms. She jerked in his hold, making quiet noises of protest in her throat. “Stay still,” he growled, pulling them behind her back. He looped the rope around her wrists and then around the back of the chair. Once she was secured, he went back to his post. With one swift move, he ripped her panties off her body. “Keep your legs open wide.” Visibly shaking, she spread her light golden thighs, revealing the copious liquid saturating the thatch of downy blonde ringlets and coating her swollen lower lips. “Matt,” he said in a low voice. “Come here.” “Say please.” “You wish. Get over here. Or I won’t let you have her first.” She whimpered as Matt came closer, his heavy footfalls echoing on the rough-hewn plank floor. “Maybe—” “Be quiet.” She moaned at Tristan’s directive, but he was pretty sure she wasn’t feeling any pain. God, how long had she been as desperate for them as they were for her? “You wanted this. You’re about to get it.” Tristan moved out of the way to give Matt room to kneel between her outstretched legs. Without a word, he dove in. She cried out at the first swipe of Matthew’s tongue, sliding through her slick folds like a miniature whip. Tristan had been on the receiving end of that tongue and could only imagine what it felt like on Caity’s dripping sex. He’d been with a lot of women, but damned if he could remember one so aroused. Or that responsive, her hips bucking with every one of Matt’s sensual lashes. He licked her for a long time, spreading the engorged lips of her labia to reveal her distended clit surrounded by a pool of cream. “Check that out,” he said in a reverent voice, giving Tristan room to get a good look. “I bet she’s a squirter.” “Huh?” Caity sounded as if she’d run three miles. Her chest heaved, pushing her breasts up and out so her tight nipples stood in stark relief.

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“Think you’re going to have to explain to her what that is.” God knows he couldn’t, not right now. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Like unzipping his ridiculously restrictive trousers before they strangled his cock. “Sometimes women ejaculate.” Matt said it so matter-of-factly even Tristan groaned. “Like a guy. They come by the bucket, not the teaspoon.” Tristan choked back a laugh, but Caity apparently didn’t think it was funny. “I don’t do that,” she said, sounding mildly affronted. “You will.” Matt grinned and slid just the tip of his index finger inside her. She cried out as if she’d been struck with an open hand. “Give us time.” Tristan studied her face while idly stroking his length. She was so beautiful with her features contorted with need. But he wanted to see her eyes. Had to make sure she knew exactly who was giving her this pleasure. “I’m going to take off the blindfold. For now.” Matt glanced up at him, a smile twisting his mouth. His normally light brown eyes were dark with arousal. “Told you he loved your eyes, Caity. Give him one of those pouty looks, and he’ll do anything for you.” Matt went back to his task, and Tristan moved behind her. He undid the blindfold, drawing it away from her face. She craned her head back to look at him, and just as Matt said, those sexy blue eyes dug his grave and threw dirt over the top. But for once he didn’t just fall a little more in love. For once he could actually touch and taste her. He gripped her chin and leaned down to brush her lips with his. His sweet Caity had turned into a writhing, sexual creature, almost while he watched. “How does his tongue feel?” “So good I’m sure I’m dreaming.” “Put your foot on his shoulder.” “Which one?” “You’re getting better at taking direction.” To reward her—and himself—he reached down to pinch her nipples. They were even harder and redder than just a few moments ago. She cried out again. “Shh. Unless you want something in your mouth.” She looked right into his eyes, proving her growing boldness. “I do.” “Oh sure.” Matt nipped her thigh. “When I made that offer, I was resoundingly rejected.” “So switch places.” Her voice sounded husky, the perfect timbre for phone sex. “I’m not done.” Matt raised her calf and set her left foot on his shoulder. He used his other hand to spread her thighs wide and licked his lips as he looked his fill. “Gorgeous.” He pushed two fingers inside her, his palm flexing so hard that Tristan knew his friend was having a little G-spot fun. “You were made for two hard cocks.” She shot a nervous glance at Tristan. “Two? Is that even possible?” Chuckling, he ran his hand through her soft, shiny hair. He kissed the side of her neck, and together they watched Matthew work. Some time ago, she’d begun shaking nonstop. Probably around the same time Matt began fingering her in earnest. “Sure, it’s possible. Lots of things are.” Her head fell back toward his shoulder. “It’s also really possible that I’m going to come.”

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He snagged two handfuls of her hair and lightly pulled. Just as he’d expected, she mewled like a hungry kitten. “Enough, Matt.” “What? Why?” she asked. “You’ll come when we say and not before.” Her wounded expression made him laugh in spite of himself. “Want the blindfold back?” “I have a gag too,” Matthew offered, giving her one last thorough lick that made her belly ripple. “Maybe we should just tie her to the bed, blindfold, and gag her. Stick one of those vibrators I bought inside her while we go pick up dinner. But just on low, so she’d never be able to climax. How do you like that idea, Cait?” She pursed her glossy pink lips. “I hate you right now.” “Good. Then we’re doing our job.” Matt lifted her foot from his shoulder, but he didn’t get up right away. “Think we should tie her legs open, Tris. I like looking at her like this.” He flicked his fingers through the curls on her mound, and she arched, drawing the rope tighter. “Would you like us to shave you?” He traced her labia with the edge of his finger. “You’d come every time we kissed these sweet lips.” “You guys don’t want me. You want a blow-up doll you can tease and taunt.” “Doesn’t sound like she’s adapting well to being submissive. Guess we’ll have to do what you suggested. I’m kind of hungry anyway.” Tristan bent to untie her wrists, but she shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t leave me. I’ll go crazy.” The urgency in her voice would’ve made him laugh if he hadn’t caught a whiff of her arousal. The tang of it curled in his groin, and his balls tightened in warning. He had to get his pants off or he’d be the one going crazy. “Keep eating her,” he decided, shedding his boots, socks, and pants with the minimum amount of movement. His cock sprang free, hard and ready with a fat drop of precum on the crown. “We’ll switch in a minute.” Then to Caity, he murmured, “You’re going to suck my cock. If you do a good job, we won’t tie you to the bed. Yet.” Caity swallowed as she eyed his erection. “What counts as good?” “Depends.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, already imagining his shaft sliding over her pliant flesh. “Do you spit or swallow?” “Sort of both.” From between her thighs, Matt laughed. He’d gone back to running his tongue along her seam, but slowly, with only the slightest pressure. “Only you, Caity,” he said, stroking his long, hard cock. Tristan stared down into her eyes as he dragged the head of his dick along her cheek, branding her with his moisture and scent. He didn’t speak until he saw what he needed to in her eyes—her total consent. She wanted to be mastered like this. He hoped to God only by them, but right now he’d take what he could get. And right now he was about to get her mouth. “You’re going to swallow. Every drop. Do you understand?” She answered, but not with words. Still maintaining eye contact, she leaned forward and darted her tongue along the head of his cock. She did it again and again until Tristan seized hold

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of her hair and slid inside her beckoning heat, just enough to make her slumberous eyes widen. No matter what game they were playing, he didn’t want to hurt her. But she only opened her mouth farther, her teeth torturously scraping his erect length before she took more of him inside. “Shit, that’s hot,” Matt murmured, rising. He ran his hand up her belly to her breasts, his dexterous fingers manipulating her nipples until she squirmed. The sensation made her throat undulate like a satin glove, and Tristan groaned, helpless against the need to drive deeper. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, something in the depths of her devilish blue eyes made him think she was scheming. She drew back, almost releasing his shaft before her lips sealed around the head. Her tongue rolled over him, and then, without warning, she let him fall free from her mouth. “You’re not done,” he said, gasping for breath. Ignoring Tristan, she turned her head toward Matt, parting her lips in invitation. Matt accepted greedily, cupping her jaw as their mouths clashed and grappled. Tristan let out a low groan when their tongues flicked against each other, lapping and sucking. Tristan worked his cock, the intensity in his balls impossible to ignore. She’d done that intentionally. Hell, she’d all but let Matt lick her tongue clean. Then she returned to encircle his length, her damp lips swollen from Matt’s kisses. She enveloped Tristan’s erection in a slick openmouthed kiss, riding up and down his engorged dick with practiced skill. Matthew’s gaze drew his attention, and he looked over at his friend, leaning in as Matt did the same. As their faces neared, Tristan felt Caity’s mouth tense around him. He reached up and fisted Matt’s hair, dragging their mouths together. Caity moaned, and the sound vibrated straight through to his spine. By then Matt’s tongue was in his mouth. Tristan could taste Caity on him, could smell her on his breath. The combination unleashed a furious longing unlike any he’d ever known. He reached between them and grabbed Matt’s cock, stroking it hard while Caity did the same to his hard-on with her tongue. She jerked her thighs open as if she ached to be filled. But she still had enough control to draw back again, Tristan’s glistening length gleaming from her efforts. She glanced at Matthew, who interpreted her wishes and bent to take Tristan’s cock in his mouth. While he took over, she hauled her chair closer and pulled on her arms until her binding loosened enough for her to duck her head. She licked Tristan’s balls, taking them between her perfect lips. Too damn much. Matt knew just how to bring him to the edge in an instant, and she was his accomplice, snaking her wicked tongue all the way down to his puckered hole. “Fucking hell,” Tristan grated, his ass clenching as he fought his climax. “Christ, I can’t—” The orgasm built faster than he could stop it. Matt sucked him into his throat, and Tristan started to come, his whole body jerking. At the last second, Matt transferred him back to Caity’s waiting mouth. He spilled himself there, spearing his fingers through her hair to keep her still as his hips pistoned with the force of his release. “Think that counts as good,” she whispered after he’d had a moment to recover. Then the little minx licked her lips and grinned.

**** Tristan rolled over onto his back on the rug, casting his arms wide. “I’m famished.”

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“Me too.” Matt collapsed beside him, the firelight dancing over the beads of sweat on his skin. “What can we eat?” He chuckled, long and low. “Besides Cait.” From Cait’s perch on her chair, she bunched her fists. It had been hours. Endless hours and they’d yet to let her come. She’d been so thoroughly savored and sampled and damn near ravaged that her thighs were on fire with stubble burn, and she would’ve sworn she was actually chafed from their lips. Her poor clit throbbed from overattention. That wasn’t all they’d done. They’d fucked her too. But not with their cocks. With their fingers. With their toys. She’d had several inside her tonight, and they’d only served to increase the painful pleasure. Even now, minutes after they’d decided to give her a respite, perspiration still slicked her skin and occasional tremors racked her body. She’d moaned herself hoarse. Screamed until her throat ached. And still they hadn’t relented. “When you untie me,” she said, her abused voice cracking, “you both better run. Fast.” “Guess we won’t be untying you, then.” Tristan leaned up to nibble the back of her calf, and she whimpered, the sensation of his teeth sinking into her flesh eliciting a fresh rush of her juice. She’d never be able to forget this night. Just looking at their mouths and remembering what they’d done with them would push her to the verge of a climax. They’d explored every inch of her, so many times she figured her body was a morass of hickeys and bruises. Her lips were swollen and sore, her eyes grainy from bursts of fruitless tears. But the best was when they explored each other. So far they’d only touched and kissed. No one had had sex yet tonight, but it didn’t matter. Watching them together increased her already overwhelming desire until she was pretty sure she’d had a couple of mini orgasms just from excess visual inspiration. Two hot men, their bodies slick and straining in the firelight. Their cocks as hard as rods, willing to do anything to her and each other. Oh my God, was there anything hotter? If she went to her just reward before morning—and she just might at this rate—she would die with a smile on her lips and a reel of really naughty memories in her mind. “You know what I like best about tonight?” Matt asked, his tone conversational as he slid his hand down Tristan’s toned stomach. Tristan had more muscles, but Matt’s ass was a thing of beauty, so it all worked out. “Listening to Caity almost come. Now all it takes is a swipe of our fingers or a jolt from our bag of tricks over there”—he grinned and jerked a thumb at the plastic bag of toys next to her chair—“and she’s seconds away from an orgasm. Almost hate to ruin it.” Though she’d been glowering at Matt in the dark—they’d turned off the lights, leaving the fire and the small Christmas tree in the corner as the only illumination—now she perked up. Maybe her hours of torture were over. “Me too. What can we do about that?” “Hmm. Good question. Got any ideas?”

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Thoughtfully, Tristan played with Matt’s stiffening cock. She’d seen them with their hands and their mouths on each other’s shafts so much tonight she should’ve been immune to it. But she wasn’t. Her nipples peaked again, and her drenched thighs dampened anew. “Maybe we should fuck her.” “Excellent plan,” she said, her fingers flexing. They’d untied her a couple of times to rub her arms and back, but they’d always tied her up again. She’d grown used to the submissive pose now, so much so that when Matt rose and came over to her, her chin dropped to her chest in hopeful supplication. “If you weren’t a virgin, we’d have done it hours ago.” “Oh. Right. I’ve noticed your tender care.” Tristan laughed and palmed his own cock, his thumb rubbing over the swollen head. “We know you’re nervous.” “Not so much,” she said wryly. “The last of my nerves left when you came in Matt’s mouth. After that it’s been all downhill. Or uphill.” Again he laughed. “I was thinking maybe you should watch us first. So you’re not so scared.” She shivered, and it wasn’t from fear. Finally. Matt scratched his stomach as if he possibly couldn’t care either way. “Guess we can eat later.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he gazed down at her and smiled. “We’ll eat our picnic off your breasts.” He skated his fingers over her hypersensitive clit, and she moaned, right on cue. “Drink our wine from your cunt.” Yet another word that made her breath catch a little. She wasn’t used to them speaking this frankly to her, at least when they weren’t making jokes. But she’d get used to it. “There’s wine?” she asked. Matt smacked her mound, and she laughed, arching at the flash of heat. Maybe he thought the best part of tonight was listening to her moans, but he was wrong. The best part was loving these two men and knowing they loved her absolutely in return. Being naked with them was just one more layer of icing on an already incredible cake. “I want to watch you,” she said after a moment, not bothering to disguise the plea in her voice. She wanted them to get just how much she was into them being into each other. As long as she was a part of it, she was happy. But what about when Monday came? Then what? They would go back to being lovers and she would go back to being alone. She hunched, suddenly cold. Since when had that word become so frightening? Since you realized what it was like to be completely with someone else. Two someones. But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t do this long-term. Living like this would make her mother and sisters look like the queens of chastity. And what about that perfect little picture of domesticity she’d always held in her head for someday down the line? Would two husbands really be better than one? Saying yes would be so easy. Too easy. Saying no would hurt them all, but she couldn’t pretend to be okay with a situation very few people would condone—or understand.

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Matt stared into her eyes, and for a second, she was sure he was reading her thoughts. He’d always been good at that. “Think it’s time we untie you. You won’t just be watching. You’ll be participating.” She closed her eyes. Now that the doubt demons had resurfaced, she was having trouble battling them back. “We never talked about beyond this weekend,” she said quietly. “We didn’t have to. You’re ours.” Tristan’s certain tone told her there would be no discussion. “And if you’re not, you never should have given yourself to us. Because we’re not sharing you.” “It’s not about another guy. It’s about this being—” “What?” Tristan asked sharply. She’d almost said not normal. Luckily she’d stopped herself just in time. They couldn’t truly believe she’d consider this lifestyle a genuine possibility. Who did that? “Fun.” She lifted a shoulder and winced at the resulting burn in her wrists. “A game. But it’s not life. It’s not real.” She winced again as she heard herself. Dear God, what was she saying? Orgasm deprivation had robbed her of the last of her mental faculties. Because only a crazy person would say those kinds of things to two horny, naked guys only too willing to make her submit to whatever they wanted. As they aptly proved a moment later. “Untie her. And get her in the bedroom.” “Tristan—” He walked over to her, jerking up her face so hard her shoulders snapped back. “Exactly how far do you want to push us?”

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Chapter Six Matt laid a hand on Tristan’s back. “Easy, man. Bruising her into wanting this isn’t going to change her mind.” “I’m not bruising her yet. But I just might.” Tristan’s eyes glowed in the firelight. “Did you really think we’d take your virginity and let you go?” She lifted her chin. “It’s not really your choice, now is it? You’re only able to control me as long as I let you. As long as I give you the power. But if I take it back—” “If you take it back, you’re still going to have me in your pussy and him in your ass. Fucking you until you can’t walk. Until you can’t even crawl from here. Is that what you want, Caity? Just say the word.” Matt moved to her other side, and she could tell from the way he was crowding in close he was finished trying to hold Tristan back. Tristan was a gentle giant most of the time, but when he got pissed, watch the hell out. And he was pissed now, his body tight and tense with fury even as he caressed her jaw. “Tell us one more time you’re playing with us and watch what happens.” She cast her gaze away. He always scared her when he got like this, but some part of her acknowledged the primal thrill his words caused. They’d throw her to the bed and fuck her, like animals. And she wouldn’t be able to think about after, because now would take all her attention. “I’m just trying to be realistic,” she murmured. Matt drew his fingertip down her neck, triggering a shiver she couldn't have suppressed if she’d tried. “If you’re willing to give this up, we can't stop you,” he said quietly, steel lining his words. “Maybe you think you can find this with someone else. Someone more appropriate.” She gritted her teeth. “The problem isn't someone. It's the someones. I've spent my whole life proving I’m not a product of my background. I graduated from high school and college early. I avoided sex as much as possible so I wouldn’t end up like them, focused on my freaking reproductive organs. But damn you both, you’re determined to turn me into everything I fought to escape.” “So choose one of us. Easy enough, right? You can do that.” Matt leaned in to nuzzle her neck, his mouth soft and wet and arousing. It wasn't just that he knew how to kiss. Lots of men did. That wouldn't have provoked her to such desperation. It was that he knew all of her, even the warts she'd done her best to disguise. The sides of her nature she'd tried to hide away like dirty laundry at the back of the closet. And he still loved her. Still wanted her. They both did. At least right now. Whether or not that would be true after this weekend, she didn't know. With that eerie synchronism they had, Tristan knelt in front of her and picked up where Matt left off, his broad palms enveloping her breasts while he kissed her with more passion than she'd ever dreamed of wanting. His warm lips drifted to her cheeks, her jaw, the curve of her

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throat. He added a hint of teeth, and she dug her nails into her hands as she arched up to meet his mouth. And his fingers as they plucked and circled the tight tips of her breasts. Then he eased back, breathing hard. “So choose.” Cait closed her burning eyes. Dammit, why were they doing this to her? “You chose each other, didn’t you?” The defensiveness came to hand easier than she’d expected. “So why couldn’t I choose too?” Even as she asked the question, the truth taunted her. She couldn't choose between them. It was like picking her left leg over her right. They were an intrinsic, vital part of her. The best part. “We didn’t plan to hop into bed. But the night we did, you were at Gary’s, and we both knew what that could mean,” Tristan said quietly. “You fell so quick for him.” “Hell of a consolation prize, huh?” she said under her breath. He didn’t seem to hear her. “I never thought you’d really be into this. I hoped,” Tristan murmured, caressing her shoulder, “but I didn’t believe it, deep down. And Matt got it. He understood. But if you think you weren’t in that bed with us every time we were together, you’re fucking stupid. And you’re not, so don’t play games with us. Not about this.” “You haven’t thought this all out. You couldn’t have. It’s not as simple as ‘hey, we’re in love!’” “Why the hell not?” Cait glanced at Matt, noting he’d gone sullen and silent. For what reason she didn’t know, but he clearly wouldn’t be any help. “It’s not that simple,” she said, wondering why she was the only one who got that. Though she couldn’t say for sure what side of the fence Matt stood on, Tristan had abandoned all sense in favor of some sort of twisted ménage fairy tale. “We have a business. A respectable business. What will people say if we’re shacked up together?” “We’re already shacked up together,” Matt put in. She scrunched up her mouth. “We live in separate quarters. That’s not what we’re talking about. What exactly are you suggesting? That we share a big-ass bed, hold hands when we walk down the street? Do you honestly think I can tell my mom that I’m—that we’re—” “Yes.” Tristan’s gaze bored into hers. “All I’m asking for is for you to be honest about what you want and what we’re about. The rest will fall into place in time.” “But what about Matt’s mom? And your parents? You know how your dad is, Tristan. Bigtime hunter, a complete man’s man. He’d freak at having a gay son.” “Bi,” Matt said, sounding infinitely disgusted. “For fuck’s sake, we’re bi.” “Call us whatever you want,” Tristan said evenly, “but it doesn’t change the reality of what you need.” How could he possibly know what she needed when she didn’t even know herself? She bowed her head and stared miserably at her lap. “You’re asking me for more than I can give.” “No, we’re not. We’re just asking you to be who you are, with us. That’s all.” He reached up to brush his fingers over her hair, and her stomach pitched as if she were going to be sick. “Take me to bed,” she whispered. “And let me forget for a little while. Please.” She’d begged before, but not like this. Not as if her heart was breaking.

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In a very real way, it was. The worst of it was she’d helped instigate her own heartbreak. She’d been the one to come up with the plan to sleep with them, the one who’d insisted on watching them make love. So eager to steal slices of them they hadn’t given her willingly, she’d risked everything she valued most. Her friends, her work, her home. Her life, in the truest sense of the word. Tristan moved behind her chair to release the ropes. Once she was free, Matthew scooped her up in his arms just as he’d done earlier. But now the gesture made a lump rise in her throat as she pressed her face into his neck. She clung to him, the thick cords of his biceps rippling under her touch. He carried her through a short, dim hallway, entering the first doorway and lowering her to a huge, cloud-soft bed. A plush comforter rustled under her back, and she moaned, her body keen for even the slightest sensation. “Do your arms hurt?” he questioned, cradling her close as he rolled onto the bed beside her. “No.” She didn’t mind the slight sting of pain from being bound. It gave her something concrete to focus on rather than the dismal state of her…what? Love life? Sex life? Just life, period? The only part of her that stung in anything but a pleasurable way was her heart, but she didn't tell him that. Tristan walked around to the other side of the bed, still carrying the rope, and that thrilling bite of fear surged through her once more. “You’re going to tie me up again?” she asked breathlessly. He didn’t answer, tossing the rope aside as if he were annoyed with it. Then he knelt on the bed, his gaze raking her naked curves before he crawled over to her and Matt. He pushed her onto her back and braced his arms on either side of her shoulders as he ranged his body over hers, nudging his cock against her in the most intimate way possible. With the slightest flex, he’d be buried inside her—without a condom. And she didn’t even possess the strength to tell him no. Had she really thought she had some control here? The power was wholly theirs, and right now she welcomed not being the one to decide. For once she didn’t have to think until her head ached. She could just be. Just do what came natural and to hell with the consequences. She was on the pill. And it would feel so incredible, having all of him inside her with no barrier. Moving from instinct, she rocked against him, a not-so-subtle dare. He reached out and gripped her chin before he crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue swept inside, claiming her. Making her his. She moaned as she wove her fingers through his shoulder-length hair and rose up against him, pressing her breasts to his chest. He ripped his mouth away and raised above her, his expression positively lethal despite his ragged panting. “If I didn’t love you, I’d do it and hope to God you got pregnant. Even though it would be stupid for a lot of reasons, I’d do it.” He swore and grabbed a fistful of the pillow beside them. “Christ, I can’t think when I’m around you.” When she didn’t reply, Tristan roughly gripped her shoulder. But she didn’t fear him. He wouldn’t ever hurt her, no matter how incensed he became. “Then you’d have no choice, would you? You’d have to stay with us.” Her throat locked, but she met his gaze. Had all this really been brewing under the surface without any of them having the balls to acknowledge it? And for how long? She’d been so sure

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she was the only one suffering silently, but here was Tristan, threatening things so unlike him she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You can't trap me, no matter what you say or do,” she whispered. But that was a lie, and she knew it. She was already trapped by her own dwindling defenses and her body's overpowering need for him. For them both. “He doesn’t want to trap you.” Matt kissed her temple. “He just wants you to want us the way we want you. We want all of you.” He exchanged a wordless glance with his best friend before returning his focus to her. “Though he’s not expressing that too well with all the damn threats.” “Fuck that.” Tristan’s violent breaths washed over her skin. “I’m tired of playing games.” “This isn’t a game,” Matt said, stroking his thumb over her lips until they quivered. “Is it, short stuff?” She shook her head. “No. And I do want you. With everything I am.” She lifted her hand to Matt's cheek and brought his mouth to hers. “Make love to me,” she whispered, speaking to both of them. “Let me know how it feels.” Not just sex. She ached to be swept away by desire, consumed by longing and love and desperation. To feel completely alive. But Tristan didn’t respond to her plea. He rolled away from her and grabbed the rope, not even looking at her as he snatched her arms. She didn't struggle against the frustration leaking from his pores. If she couldn't give him what he’d asked for, she could give him her complete surrender, at least physically. As for the rest, he’d just have to learn to deal with it. So would Matt. And somehow so would she. Matt watched his best friends stare at each other and let out a long breath. Either tonight would end up being the best thing that ever happened to them, or it would end them for good. There didn’t seem to be any middle ground. But while there was still a chance of changing the final act, he wasn’t going to lie around and let them steal the show. “Don’t tie her up,” he said in a low voice. “Not yet. I have a better idea.” Before anyone could argue with him, he rose and went to the small closet. This was a tiny cabin with the barest amenities. But it had a big bed and a big refrigerator, along with a truly awesome fireplace. What more did a man need when he had his best friends and a camcorder? He dug through the contents of the top shelf until he wrapped his hand around the small video camera. He’d bought it last year to capture footage of some of the amazing array of wildlife that made its home around the cabin. Yeah, well, he’d done that exactly once. But he’d be putting the camera to good use tonight. After unearthing the tripod that went with it, he turned back to the bed. Both Tristan and Caity were watching him. Even in the darkness, he could sense their wariness. “Ever shot a porno, kids?” “A…porno? You’re going to tape us?” Cait’s voice rose. “No way. If that gets in the wrong hands—” “I’ll put it in my safe-deposit box. Don’t worry. No one will ever see it but us.”

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“But it’s permanent.” “Imagine that,” Tristan said, warming to the idea. He wasn’t one to shy away from new experiences. “Permanent only until someone hits the Delete button,” Cait added. Matt didn’t explain how he intended to finalize the disc and make it un-rewritable. Let her think what she pleased. Considering the matter decided, he set up the camera and came back to the bed, nudging Cait aside so he could roll onto his back. “You wanted to watch, right?” When she nodded, he patted his chest. “Come sit on my face.” She squeezed her legs together. “More?” “I’ll be gentle, promise.” She climbed into position, kneeling so that she was facing his cock. She sighed when he began to explore her sensitive cunt with his tongue. “You’re so good at that.” He reached up and pinched the perfect curve of her ass. “Keep saying things like that and maybe we’ll let you come.” He craned his neck to look at Tristan, who’d yet to stop watching them. “You gonna do your part, Tris, or what? Let me give you a tip. Pornos are supposed to be hot. You’re not being hot yet.” Cait laughed, and he caught her arms, holding them behind her back. He couldn’t wait to see how she looked on camera, all that wavy blonde hair spilling around her shoulders and over her breasts. Her pretty nipples rosy and swollen from their kisses. Her face as she finally got to see what she’d been anticipating all night. Without directing Tristan, he knew what to do. He settled himself between Matt’s legs, not moving until Matt remembered the condoms and lube in the bedside table. He tossed them to his buddy, then went back to his juicy feast, savoring the seemingly endless trickle of cream as he employed every trick he knew. He slid his tongue all the way inside her tight channel. Her stunned moan broke the silence just as Tristan squirted the cool lube between his cheeks. Shit. Seconds later Matt heard the definite snap of a condom. Cait fell forward over Matt’s torso and scraped her nails up his sides at the same moment the head of Tristan’s cock breached his ass. Matt drew his knees up to give Tris more room. He spread them to accommodate Cait and her intent perusal, but the movement only impaled Tristan that much deeper. So damn deep. Heaven. The edge of pain from Tristan’s huge erection rapidly transformed into bliss. Dual spears of pleasure twined inside him, opening him up to the rush of heat caused by Tristan’s thrusts. The newness never fully wore off. For so many years, loving his best friend in this way hadn’t been a possibility. Having Cait there to share this moment only made it that much more sweet. He raised his ass off the bed to increase the friction. To take more. The point of no return neared, and he’d be damned if he could stop it. Combined with Cait smearing her wetness all over his face, he had no control left. Apparently neither did she. She bounced all over him, making sounds he couldn’t entirely recognize. But they were hotter than hell. “Like that?” Tristan’s voice was a raspy growl. “Wish it was you, don’t you, Caity?”

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Matt shifted her leg up in the air and craned his neck so he could get an idea of what was going on above him. Inching deeper, Tristan fisted Cait’s hair, dragging her mouth to his over the shared conduit beneath them. “Fuck,” Matt groaned, fighting for air. So sexy. So beautiful. The savage lust on Tristan’s face, probably mirrored by Cait’s, made him ache with need. He’d known he loved them before. But seeing them like this, together, increased his love—and desperation—tenfold. With a ragged hiss, Matt dragged her back over his face. Though he lost his ability to watch, he had a good monitor on the situation from the steady flow into his mouth. Her slick pussy rode his tongue, her inner walls clenching as moan after moan racked her lithe body. Tristan’s cock tunneled into his ass. His short plunges became choppy and chaotic. He buried himself deep, and then deeper still, until Matt’s balls clenched from his impending orgasm. Just about there. Struggling to hold on, he muffled a shout against Cait’s soaked pussy. She braced her hands on his stomach as Tristan locked his hands around Matt’s hips, forcing him upward to take more of his dick. But there wasn’t any room left or any breath in his throat to groan when Caity finally let go, her whole body shuddering from her climax. “Yes. God, yes.” Her scream ended abruptly, and Matt saw the reason when he managed to arch his neck. Tristan was kissing the ever-loving daylights out of her while he fucked Matt with one hand on his cock and the other around her jutting breast. She cupped Tristan’s face in her hands, and for an instant, the tableau froze, their mingled cries inflaming the ecstatic roar in Matt’s head. Too fast he hurtled toward his own orgasm, so hard that his spine cracked as he drove upward to meet Tristan’s thrusts. Warm, wet lips slid over the tip of his cock, and he moaned as he shot off like a cannon, blasting into Caity’s waiting mouth. Somehow he heard her swallowing, and it was the sexiest fucking sound he’d ever heard. “Oh yeah. Swallow his cum. Drink it. Every drop.” She whimpered at Tristan’s hoarse command, doing just as he wished. Throughout, she ground against Matt’s face, who ate her like a starving man presented with his last meal. Driven for more, he caressed her slit with his tongue, incapable of turning off his need for her. Or for the man currently shouting his way through his own scalding release, his cock hammering Matt’s ass in the rough way he’d come to love. After the plentiful aftershocks diminished, they collapsed together in a sweaty heap. None of them moved for a good long while. Then Matt tuned in to the whir of the camcorder. He grinned. They’d get to relive that incredible experience over and over. But first it would be Caity who’d get her own private viewing. “So, Tris,” he murmured. “Ready for that late dinner?” Less than an hour later, he and Tristan were seated in a corner booth at Swan’s Diner, with heaping plates of food in front of them. “It’s not going to work.” Tristan didn’t look up from his meal. “Stop being such a pessimist.” Matt dug into his BLT with relish. The diner had the most delicious food around. Best of all, it was less than a mile from the cabin. “So what should we bring her back? Bet she’d love some onion rings.”

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“Only you would suggest onion rings as an appetizer to a night of sex,” Tristan said, pushing his lumpy mashed potatoes around their moat of gravy. For a guy who’d recently had the latest in a long line of blistering orgasms, he looked positively wretched. He waited a minute and added, “She wants us for one thing. Our cocks. Once she’s gotten her cherry popped—which is a damn stupid phrase, by the way—she’ll be through with us.” Matt glanced up, grateful no one was close enough to hear Tristan’s tale of sexual woe. “You give our powers of persuasion far too little credit. She’s probably coming even now, just from watching us touch her on the tape.” “Which is all well and good, if I only wanted a sex slave I could tie up and fuck whenever the mood struck.” “You seemed to play that role well tonight,” Matt said mildly, reaching for his soda. “You both get off on that, obviously.” “And you don’t? I didn’t see you having any problems participating.” Tristan didn’t answer. Matt couldn’t claim to be surprised. Tristan’s insatiable sexual appetite always seemed to disturb Tristan, as if it were a wild animal he kept hog-tied in a cage in the basement. Weeks had passed before he’d been able to refer to their sex life. Even after a year, Tristan didn’t seem entirely comfortable discussing his proclivities where Matt was concerned. He was all about doing whatever struck his interest, but talking about it? Forget it. “She ate it up,” Tristan said, forking up potatoes. Apparently his own eating—both literal and figurative in this case—had been relegated to the forgotten pile. “In her own way, she was asking for everything that happened. Hell, for all I know, she’s been asking for a while and I’ve been too blind to see it.” “We were both blind. Added to that, you’re a romantic who only wanted to see her in a silk-sheeted bed wearing a peignoir with trailing ribbons tied in her hair.” Amazingly, Tristan grinned. “That’s a scary observation, especially since it’s true. But she’s not made for silk and ribbons. Or not only. I was being stupid by pretending she was.” He let out a windy sigh. “I was careful with her for so long. Then tonight—” “Oh, Christ, don’t start recriminating. She enjoyed everything we threw at her and asked for more. This is why I’m her true best friend, because she knows you can’t accept her as she is. Even now you want to keep her under glass, like a pretty butterfly.” Tristan started to argue; then he gave a short shake of his head. “I guess in some ways she’s still sixteen to me. Part of me isn’t ready to accept that she’s a woman now and capable of taking any step she wants, especially steps that may very well lead her out of our lives.” “Well, I’ve known her since she was seventeen, and unlike you, I know she’s not seventeen anymore. She’s also not a coward. She won’t lie to herself forever. Just not built that way,” Matt said, again reaching for his soda. It wasn’t hard liquor, but Swan’s didn’t exactly carry top-shelf. He’d have to wait to break into the wine back at the cabin. “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t she want me to know she’d caught us? Sounds like pretty big denial to me.” Tristan set down his fork, clearly finished though he’d barely eaten half his meal. Usually the food had to moo for him to resist eating every scrap on his plate.

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“She was scared. And embarrassed. And truthfully? I think she was afraid to face you. She may love me, but the two of you have your own issues I’m not part of.” “She was disappointed in us,” he said quietly. Matt didn’t reply because he’d suspected the same. “It’s hard for a chick to acknowledge a pretty boy might like the other team as much as hers,” he said with a shrug, though he guessed it went way deeper than that. “You’re pretty too.” “Aww, how sweet.” Before Tristan could kick him under the table, Matt signaled the waitress, Telula, over with a smile. She perked up instantly at Matt’s attention. “Hey, Tel, could you grab us one of those chocolate and raspberry cakes from the bakery case? To go.” “Sure, honey. You want some French vanilla ice cream to go with that?” “That’d be perfect.” Oh hell yeah. Now that’s what he was talking about. Then he remembered Cait would need real food beyond the frozen crap he had in the freezer. He had stuff for breakfast, but she probably wouldn’t want bacon and eggs tonight. “Can you box up some other stuff for us too? Onion rings and one of your awesome turkey clubs.” “She’ll want root beer,” Tristan put in. “Right. You got any two-liters?” “We’ll fix your order up just the way you want it. No problem, honey.” Telula patted his shoulder and began clearing away plates. “You need some help with that?” Tris asked as she balanced their dishes and glasses in her arms. “Nope. There’s a trick to it.” She winked at them and headed off to the kitchen, a jaunty spring in her step. “She’s nice. Reminds me of your mom,” Tristan said, wiping up the crumbs from the Formica like the good little boy he’d always been. With a mile-wide streak of naughty he just couldn’t reconcile, even with himself. “My mom’s planning on visiting soon, by the way. She’s going to try to get in for New Year’s. Says Boise’s winter has been hell already, and she needs to escape.” “Yeah? She get some time off work?” “A week and a half. She wants to spend it with her two boys and her extra daughter.” He grinned at Tris, but Tristan wasn’t looking at him. He was staring at the table. “How’re we gonna tell them?” Matt knew very well who Tristan meant, but he played dumb. Anything to stall. “Them?” “Your mom, my parents, Caity’s mom. We can’t hide this.” “Says who?” Matt bit off a sigh as Telula returned with the check. “What’s the rush?” he asked once she’d left again. “I don’t want to sweep this under the rug. If we’re doing it, we’re doing it all the way.” That was Tris. Hotheaded and emotional and, more than anything, invested. He’d reserve judgment for a long time, then go all hell-bent on getting what he wanted at a moment’s notice. Matt didn’t work that way. He knew Tris saw him as impulsive, but if he did something, you could sure as shit bet he’d thought through every angle first. He didn’t just run everything behind the scenes at Tristan Designs with precision, he ran his life that way too. And he hadn’t

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worked out telling everyone about their ménage yet, mainly because he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. At his core, he was almost as wary of unusual setups like this as Cait, but he also wasn’t used to denying his needs. And when it came to her and Tris, he’d denied for as long as possible. He also had a wonderful, sweet mother he wasn’t about to hurt. She wouldn’t get this. He didn’t think she’d condemn it either, because she loved all three of them. But still. If they didn’t have to rip the lid off this right now, why borrow trouble? Couldn’t they just work on getting Caity to come around without planning some big reveal to the rest of the world? “Let’s just take it slow,” Matt said as he casually slipped the bill out from under Tris’s card. He reeled at the figure but shrugged it off. It was a damn diner tab, and he had to loosen the purse strings occasionally. TD was doing well—due in no small part to their amazingly creative lead designer—and they could afford a few meals out, even if he’d tried and failed to put Tristan on a budget years ago. “We’ll convince Caity to give us a shot, and then we’ll worry about the rest. All right?” “You’re not convinced either, are you?” Tristan clenched his jaw. “This is just a lark to you. A good fuck. Not what it is to me.” “You know better than that. I love her every bit as much as you do.” Words unspoken hung in the air between them, and Matt pressed his lips together to keep from saying more. He’d assumed Tristan knew how he felt, but maybe not. Maybe he needed an affirmation beyond Matt’s feelings for Cait. Shit, did he really expect him to bust out with an “I love you” in a dingy diner while the Chipmunks’ Christmas song played in the background? As the silence deepened, Matt took a slow, bracing breath. Apparently he did. “Look, Tris—” Tristan held up a hand. “Forget it. We’ll sex her to within an inch of her life, and then everything will be hunky-dory.” He flashed a completely insincere smile. “Hope you’re right.” Matt leaned back in his booth and grinned. “Of course I am.” He’d made everything else happen, hadn’t he? Tristan’s impossible business plan, formed out of little more than desire and inspiration. This threesome, with Cait strapped to the bed and awaiting their return. He’d never failed at coming up with a blueprint and then executing it. He wouldn’t now either. Whatever it took.

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Chapter Seven Cait closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her overeager body. She’d been writhing against the sheets for most of the time the men had been gone—hateful bastards that they were—and she was exhausted. Matt had left her the remote, so it was her fault the movie they’d made was still running. She’d watched it several times already. Couldn’t stop watching it. But she needed a break. One thing this night had proven to her was the allure of homemade pornos. Sure, she blushed even thinking about how she’d behaved, but the actual finished product was more than worth it. Especially when you had not one but two sinfully hot guys as your costars. Which was why she didn’t understand why tears dripped down her cheeks even as her own moans reached a crescendo onscreen. It was just sex, and not even the full monty. Not yet. They were just having a good time. Surely once Tristan had some time alone to think, he’d get his impulses under control and realize that normal…er, regular people didn’t live as part of a threesome. Even if it would be really easy to tear down the walls separating their apartments in the loft above their office, making it one communal space. With one ginormous bed— “Stop it,” she whispered, furiously slapping away the mini waterfall coasting off her chin. They’d left her arms unbound this time. Only her ankles were secured. As much as they wanted to pretend it was just another aspect of their sexy times, she knew they’d done it to ensure she’d be there when they returned. If she had access to a vehicle, she just might’ve taken off, if only to get some perspective. In one night, everything she’d believed about herself had changed. She liked to be tied up. Bossed around. Controlled. A guy practically shoving his cock down her throat while he pulled on her hair hadn’t sparked her fantasies before. Now she’d never forget what it felt like to wield the power of offering the ultimate in pleasure—and the joy of drowning in complete submission under a man’s hand. Two men, in this case. One didn’t seem like enough anymore. She loved being the third point of their triangle. It seemed right. They fit. Immoral, wrong, crazy. Any or all adjectives might apply. But she wanted to be part of them, and not just for a weekend. When they came back here, she needed to tell them that. No. Dear God, what was she thinking? This was a fantasy. Not real life. It couldn’t be. Cait’s eyes flew open, her gaze immediately drifting to the screen. With the sex over, the three of them sprawled together in a heap. Tristan’s big hand cupped her head, Matt’s lips brushed her neck, and the two men’s fingers linked loosely over her belly. That sight more than any other made her want to curl into herself and sob in a way she hadn’t let herself in years.

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“You wanted this. Now you’re going to get it.” Though she knew she needed to turn the thing off, she started the movie over. She’d watch it just one more time, then banish it to the basement of her memories. Her cell trilled, and she fumbled for it, glad they’d left her phone close by just in case. She knocked the remote off the bed in her haste to snatch her cell and cursed. No point in even trying to reach it. She’d have to keep her call short and sweet so the caller didn’t hear more than they wanted to. She glanced at the caller ID and grimaced. Val. Perfect. “Hey, sweets. Kind of late for you to call. What’s up?” “It’s only eleven. And it’s Friday night.” Time had ceased to mean much to her, other than how many orgasms she hadn’t been allowed to have. She’d been sure her deprivation had lasted hours and hours, but it obviously hadn’t been as long as she’d believed. “Oh, I don’t have my watch on. So what’s up?” Val started to reply, then broke off as Cait’s own moan shattered the stillness. No wonder. On-screen Cait was being thoroughly devoured. Just the knowledge of what part was playing made her core clench. She closed her eyes. Don’t even look. “What was that?” “Nothing. Just, uh, a dog. Outside.” “Is he starving or something? He sounds like he’s in pain.” Oh, he was. Trust me. Wincing, Cait hurriedly started talking to fill the silence. “I bet it’s a zoo there. Lots going on this time of year. Don’t hear the kids in the background. Did Marn and Ginny get them to bed on time for once?” “Um, yeah. It’s heading toward midnight. They don’t stay up that late.” “Right. So what’s new?” “Are you okay? You sound funny. And what’s up with the reception?” Normally she’d walk around if her connection wasn’t good, but the best she could do now was sort of flop on her side. Didn’t help. “Ah, well, I sort of have a headache. A bad one. Really bad.” The moans and groans grew louder. “Actually, I think I might puke. Soon.” “Oh.” Even through the gruntlicious cacophony, Cait didn’t miss her sister’s disappointment and felt like a heel. A horny heel to boot. “We can talk later, I guess.” “I’ll call you soon. I promise.” “Sure.” Val clicked off before Cait could say any more. Terrific. Something big was happening with Val, and instead of being there for her when she reached out, Cait had turned her away. Some sister she was. Some lover. She pressed her cheek against the pillow. The tears started again, thicker and harder than before. When the guys returned a little while later, she was lying in the dark with her face soaked and her eyes swollen to the point that the light they flicked on made her whimper. Matt led the way, his arms laden with food. An easy grin split his handsome face.

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When he saw her, he almost dropped the bags. “Cait? What’s wrong?” he demanded, setting aside the food on the small dresser near the door. He rushed into the room and untied her ankles, gathering her up in his arms as a parent would with a child. “Tell me.” She said nothing. Matt didn’t ask more questions or stroke her back or even kiss her tears away. Instead he tipped up her chin and murmured, “We have onion rings.” The response was so totally Matt she chuckled through her tears. “Yeah?” “And root beer,” he added. “And chocolate cake and ice cream—” Her stomach burbled, and he laughed. “Come on.” He kicked the rope off the bed and turned off the TV, as if the final shot of them tangled together wasn’t still onscreen. She nodded, already smiling. At least until she saw Tristan’s jaw tense as he turned away from the doorway. A moment later, the front door closed. Cait glanced at Matt and grabbed the button-down shirt he offered her from his closet. “Where do you think he went?” she asked, shrugging into the soft flannel. “Probably to go shoot something,” Matt said, doing up her buttons himself. Again she laughed, though it wasn’t particularly funny. She didn’t like being the cause of anyone’s unhappiness, particularly Tristan’s. But dammit, couldn’t he see she was going through hell too? “He’s not a hunter.” “Always a first time,” he said, reaching down to cup her. His lips quirked as he dipped into the surfeit of moisture gathered along her seam. “I think we should make him regret stomping off.” “What do you mean?” “Let’s go eat. If he’s still not back when we’re finished, we’ll see what we can do about your little problem.” “Virginity is not a problem. It’s a treasure. A gift to be shared with the man lucky enough to traverse the twisty road to a woman’s secrets.” She leaned up to kiss his lips, still cold from outside, as he reached under flannel to cup her ass. “I’ll remember that.” Playfully he bit the tip of her tongue. “You know, I’ve never been with a virgin.” “No?” She grinned, relieved the urge to cry had disappeared. For now. “First time for everything,” she said, patting his chest.

**** Tristan walked and walked, his only goal exhaustion. Only a fool would waste this night with Caity and Matt, but he needed some time alone. For the longest time, he’d been good at pretending everything was just fine. Why it was so much harder now, he didn’t know. After all, he’d been putting up a front for almost a year. He’d never considered the three of them actually getting together outside his fantasies before he’d slept with Matt, though he’d never considered actually doing that until the option had been presented to him either. TD had been his focus since shortly after college. He’d thrown himself into work with a fervor his doctor and lawyer parents appreciated—trying to make good

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for pursuing an art career over something more “stable”—which left little room to wonder what was missing. He’d never lacked for partners to share his bed, God knows. And he’d never had to look for things to take up his attention, making it virtually impossible to dwell. Before last Christmas. Matt, he suspected, hadn’t seen them getting together as anything more than a natural extension to their friendship. He didn’t worry about labels. Gay, not gay, who cared? As long as it felt good, he was on board. But he wasn’t like that. Discovering he had sexual feelings for a man changed him. Especially once he realized those feelings hadn’t negated his desire for Caity. In some weird way, they’d actually amplified it. Since then he’d been fighting a losing battle not to screw everything up. Dozens of times, he’d considered just coming clean to both of them and to hell with it. But he hadn’t. And then Matt had told him Caity knew they were lovers, and the window to the life he’d dreamed of but hadn’t dared ask for had opened. He'd be damned if he’d shut it now. Not without giving this chance everything he had. She didn’t want to be strong-armed. Despite her enjoying playing power games in bed, that was the method least likely to work with Caity. She was independent and strong, and he loved that about her. The only way he’d—they’d—win her love would be to treat her as an equal and show her more pleasure than she could stand. They’d have to offer her a deal she couldn’t refuse. Shoving his freezing hands in his pockets, he turned around about a half mile from the cabin. He was not going to spend tonight out in the woods while the two of them fucked like bunnies in his absence. He knew Matt well enough to know he’d be getting inside her sooner rather than later. He grinned and strode a little faster. Damn opportunist. When he neared the cabin, it started to snow again. Light flakes drifted over his face and snuck down the back of his neck into his jacket. Good thing they wouldn’t need to head down the mountain until Sunday night. Being snowed in suited him just fine. Instead of going straight inside, he stopped beside the frosted window next to the front door. He hadn’t dressed warmly enough, but loss of body heat became a problem he didn’t need to contend with as he watched Caity and Matt roll around on the rug in front of the raging fire. Her blonde hair flamed in the dark. Strong hands reached up to grab fistfuls of it, dragging her mouth to his. She was on top—and very naked—and firelight highlighted every supple curve. Beneath her, Matt planted his feet, lifting his hips against her center so suggestively that Tristan groaned aloud. Christ, if he kept watching this, he’d need to grab his own dick. He glanced around. Maybe it was time he took a page from Matt’s “what the hell” playbook. But his fingers froze on his zipper. Despite the sensuality of the scene in front of him, doing something so crass violated the intimacy Caity and Matt shared. This wasn’t just spank material on the opposite side of the glass. They were the two people he loved most in the world, and they were completely caught in the moment. Completely caught in each other. As much as they turned each other on, this wasn’t only about lust. It was the physical expression of love and trust and, in a way, a hopeful exploration of both.

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Hopeful. That was what he had to be. One of his talents was being a big-picture guy who relished charging into the unknown with nothing but faith and his wits. He needed to approach this situation that way too. Even if he only ended up shoveling a giant pile of bullshit that would eventually bury him, at least he would have some incredible memories. Tristan’s breath puffed out, clouding the snow-encrusted panes. But he still saw Matt reach for a condom and fumble as he fought to get it over his straining erection. Caity’s head fell back as he drove up, seeking her wet heat, their movements seeming to slow as if orchestrated. She was so beautiful, even in her hesitancy. Maybe more so. Here was a situation where she couldn’t fake confidence. But she didn’t have to fake her total trust in the man inside her. It was written in every cautious rock of her hips as he let her guide the show. Tristan clenched his hand and closed his eyes at her abbreviated scream, the sound a teasing fragment in the silent night. He dropped his forehead to the glass, unwilling to intrude upon their privacy even an instant longer. Never had a closed door felt so damning in all his life. Especially since he’d been the one to close it. “Oh God, that feels so good.” “Yeah, yeah. Not so bad down here either.” Caitlyn choked back a laugh as she braced her hands on Matt’s toned chest. She squeezed his erection inside her, testing the sensation of overwhelming fullness. “You’re such a romantic.” “Want romance? Or sex?” She gave him a challenging smile. “Can’t you multitask?” He wrapped his arms around her and rolled, pinning her beneath him as he slapped his palms on the floor and raised his torso. They were still connected, still joined, his length’s subtle pulse a reminder of how much her life had changed. No longer a virgin. She’d crossed that line. Finally. She would've done a victory dance, but her lower half was currently occupied, and she wasn't about to change that any damn time soon. There had been pain. Even expecting it, the sheer enormity of the moment had crashed down on her, and she’d damn near screamed. But he’d withdrawn and fingered her clit, making sure she was ready when he entered her again Gone was the cocksure guy who’d embarked so easily on a plan to bind and gag her and freaking abduct her off a city street. In his place was the boy she loved, the one she trusted wholeheartedly, and he hadn’t let her down. When he slid inside her a second time, the pain floated away fast, swamped by the thrill of his body moving with hers. If she hadn’t loved him before, the care he took in initiating her to lovemaking would’ve sealed the deal. As would the soft, almost tender smile he wore when he leaned down to kiss her temple. He drew his cock out and then sank back in, as slowly as the breath that shuddered out from between her parted lips. “That,” he murmured. “That noise. Make it again.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, and linked her arms around his neck. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.” She loved the sound of her voice right now. A little breathless, a lot husky. The voice of a woman who’d been thoroughly fucked.

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“Actually, maybe you could make that noise for me,” she added, grinding against him. She hadn’t come yet while he was inside her, but with every thrust, she was that much closer. That much wetter. His pained groan proved that fact undoubtedly. Bowing up, she nibbled on his ear, pulling the lobe between her teeth. “Nice, but don’t think I can sound like that.” God, how had she gone so long without knowing this? Without feeling this? Even though he stretched her in ways she knew would hurt tomorrow, the burn was incredible. She’d never experienced such a powerful connection with someone else before. And later she’d get to share the same bond with Tristan— There it was. The one thought that could dilute her pleasure. Tristan. The man she’d wanted forever, the man who wanted her for forever and wouldn’t settle for anything less. The man who scared her to death and she loved as much as life. “Hey,” Matt murmured, slowing his strokes. His gaze stayed on her face while he eased out and slid so deep she sighed. “You still with me?” “Oh yeah.” Determinedly, she tightened her sex, working his cock until he hissed and dragged her nipple to his mouth. He bit and suck, still powering into her. “You gonna come for me?” His voice was so sexy, so intense. “Gonna yell my name so loud Tristan can hear it out in the freaking woods?” “You’re mean.” “He’s. A. Moron.” He punctuated every word with a thrust, swiveling his hips so the angle was a little different each time. She gasped at the renewed need spiraling through her belly, pounding in her clit. “So deep,” she whispered. “So good.” “Wanna feel it, baby,” he said against her cheek, his movements increasingly more rough. “Can’t hold on.” He scraped his finger over her swollen bud. “There we go. Oh yeah.” “I’m coming,” she managed, crying out. Shudders racked her body, and all she could do was dig her fingers into his shoulders. The ecstasy seemed to go on forever, extended by the continual strokes of his cock. He didn’t stop. She panted his name over and over, writhing beneath him. He finally groaned through his own climax, the muscles in his arms flexing while he drove himself to the limit inside her. She moaned, loving the way he gave himself over to his release. “Oh shit, baby, you’re…” He didn’t finish the statement, instead burying his face in the curve of her shoulder as his body melted into hers. Still wheezing herself, Cait undid the little band around his honey blond hair and tossed it aside. She threaded her fingers through the ends, smiling when the firelight gave him a halo he so didn’t deserve. “Can I cut your hair?” she murmured when she could speak again. His laughter rumbled through his chest. He shifted slightly to look down at her, but he didn’t pull free from her body. Instead he cuddled closer. “You just rocked my world, and now you want to maim me?” With a contented sigh, she turned her cheek against his. “Make you a deal,” she said impishly.

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“Hmm?” “I cut your hair, you get to shave me.” His eyebrow winged up as he lifted his head. “You’ve got a deal.” He trailed his fingertips over the soft thatch of curls above where they were still connected. “Never figured you’d still be natural. Since you love the damn salon so much.” She wrinkled her nose. “They don’t do Brazilians there. And there’s no way I’m having some stranger wax my pussy.” She only stumbled over pussy a little. Must be she was already shedding her prude skin. “Ah, Caity. You’re—” The door opened, and they both turned their heads to look at Tristan, who was already staring at them. As if he’d expected the scene he’d stumbled in on. As if he’d been watching it. Cait’s gaze shot to the window beside the door, and she swallowed. He had been watching, she just knew it. “Welcome back,” she said quietly. Tristan opened his mouth to respond, but his cell phone went off before he could. He paced toward the tree and answered in a low voice, turning his back on them. “What the hell time is it?” she asked. “He’s never off the damn clock.” “Twelve thirty,” Matt confirmed, glancing at the clock above the fireplace. “Must be Abe. He freaks out every Friday night. He knows no one else would listen to his bitching this late.” Friday night again. She swallowed, thinking of last Friday. The night that had changed her life forever. “He’s expecting a proof of those designs first thing Monday,” she said instead of the much more pressing worries threatening to spill from her lips. “We’ll have to—” Matt covered her mouth with his fingertip. “You’re giving us the weekend. And Sunday’s your birthday. We have presents. And cake.” He grinned and finally left her body, wincing. “Shit. Coulda stayed in there all night.” She laughed as he pulled off the condom. Aches were already appearing in interesting places. “I’ll make you feel better,” she promised, waiting until he settled beside her again to rise to her knees and bend her head to his lap. She let the long ends of her hair trail over his abs, his tensed thighs, between his legs. The contrast of her hair against his golden skin turned her on. Hell, everything did. She licked his flagging cock, the spent traces of his release making her belly tremble. Since when had she become such a horndog? “I know you will. If I can get it up again. Then again…” He trailed off as it became glaringly obvious he already was up. And gaining fast. “That’s my boy,” she said, cupping his sac in her palm. She touched him gently, trying to pretend part of her wasn’t acutely aware of Tristan pacing back and forth in front of the window as he talked Abe off yet another ledge. “I loved having you come in my mouth.” His lips quirked. “Worked for me too.” “Think we—” She looked up as Tristan approached, already pocketing his phone. “Abe?” she asked. Without a word, he kicked off his shoes and socks, then shucked his jacket, shirt, and pants. He knelt behind her and gathered her hair in his hands. Pulling. Teasing. Waking up the nerve endings along her scalp and everywhere else. She glanced at Matt, who just lifted a shoulder. His expression said just go with it.

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So she did. Forcing her spine to relax, she lowered her mouth to Matt’s shaft. She nurtured his erection, taking her time to get him wet before she applied suction to the tip. He let out a long breath, but whether it was from what she was doing or what Tristan was doing behind her, she didn’t know. The crown of Tristan’s cock circled her sensitive opening, sans condom. God, that brush of hot, forbidden skin felt so damn good. “You’re sore,” Tristan said. It wasn’t a question. “No,” she whispered, though she was a little. Of course she was. Matt wasn’t a small guy. But she wanted Tristan more than she cared about a bit of pain. “I want you,” she said firmly, glancing over her shoulder so he could see her eyes. So he knew it was true. Again he didn’t respond. He got to his feet, and her breath caught as she glimpsed the thick weight of his cock, standing up against his stomach. Ouch, that would hurt. But she wanted it. Already she was tight and quivering, desperate for what he would give her. He’d probably seen and felt the wetness smeared all over her thighs. He had to know how much she ached for him, how badly she wanted to share the same closeness with him she’d shared with Matt. Didn’t he? Then he strolled out of the room. “Where are you going?” she asked, unable to quell the urgency in her tone. “It’s okay, Cait,” Matt said as Tristan returned. “See? Just had to go get something.” What something, she wondered, but she didn’t ask. She didn’t care. Whatever it was, she wanted it. Before Tristan resumed his position behind her, he opened his hands, letting her see what he'd gotten from the bedroom. A frisson of excitement shot through her system. He held a handful of condoms in one hand and a tube of lube and long, slim vibrator in the other. The condoms fell to the rug before he uncapped the lube, squeezing a healthy dollop on the end of the vibrator. She swallowed. “What are you doing with that?” “You’ll see,” he said, directing the lube at something else now. Namely her ass. Her joy that he’d answered her disappeared in a rush of nerves. Cripes, hadn’t she gotten over those yet? Nothing they’d done tonight had been anything but wonderful. She trusted them. “Oh,” she gasped when he squirted the cool lube around her puckered hole, using his fingers to spread it around. But then his coated fingertip snuck deeper, past the first ring of muscle, and she jumped as if she’d been struck. “Easy,” Matt murmured. “You’ll like it.” “I’m not ready for anal,” she blurted, and then felt like an ass when Matt grinned at her. “Not doing anal,” Tristan said from behind her, his finger already moving farther. Stretching her pleasantly. And not unfamiliarly either, which he must’ve gathered because he flexed his digit inside her. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” “Just fingers,” she said, realizing her reaction probably seemed odd, considering. But Tristan was being so silent and spooky. He was freaking her out. Yet she was still horny, big-time. Her libido wasn’t worried about anything. “You’ve let lovers touch you here.” Tristan slipped the nozzle of the lube just inside her and squeezed, releasing another stream of cool liquid. Holy hell, it felt amazing.

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“No.” She absently stroked Matt’s cock, now fully erect. “I make myself come that way sometimes.” “No wonder we love you,” Matt said, making her laugh. “I can’t come just from playing…back there. One hand on my clit, a finger in my ass. Works every time.” Tristan moved back so fast her head reeled. “Get up on the love seat, spread your legs, and show us.” She couldn’t. No way. Masturbation was personal, private. She bit her lower lip and glanced at him over her shoulder again. “Only if you come inside me when I’m done.” A corner of his mouth lifted, and he glanced at his massive erection. “Think that can be arranged.” Before she could argue herself out of it, Cait rose and went over to the couch, jolting at the tingly feeling of the lube as she sank to the cushions. Her lube didn’t feel that good. But she’d never had Tristan put it on her either. She swallowed hard and waited for the two guys to take their seats on the sectional across from her. Both already had their hands on their cocks. Yeah, this wasn’t the least bit intimidating. Or hot. “Here,” Tristan said, tossing her the vibrator. She caught the toy. It was the kind meant to be inserted, with just enough girth to make things interesting. She wet her lips, about to flick the on switch, when Tristan added, “That’s for your ass.” She wet her lips. “This’ll be over quick, then.” They had no clue how sensitive she was back there. She’d used her vibrator a couple of times during solo anal play, and she’d nearly cried out enough for her two neighbors to hear. The buzz of the vibe seemed unnaturally loud, though she knew they’d used it on her earlier. Maybe Tris had slipped in fresh batteries, the sadist. Anticipation coiled inside her as she spread her thighs and braced her feet on the coffee table. Even after sex with Matt, even after her orgasm earlier on his mouth, she was about a dozen climaxes behind from their night of sensual torture. And if they wanted to watch her be a little naughty—a lot naughty—she’d happily give them what they desired. She slid the vibrator along her seam, intending to tease them first. Up and down she rode her pussy lips, inching closer to her ass on every trip. It wasn’t long before she was panting. Before they were panting. She smiled as she noticed they were giving her some inspiration, jerking each other off while keeping their gazes firmly directed on what was happening between her legs. Her heart racing, she let the circular head of the vibrator graze her clit. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed hard on the distended flesh. Within two passes, the vibe was soaked with her juices. Tristan’s low groan indicated he’d seen the evidence. All the evidence. If she didn’t slide the vibrator down fast, she’d be coming in a hurry. And then it was too late. Cait cried out, helpless in the throes of the sudden orgasm. She extended the moment by holding the slick toy against her pulsing clit. God. Once the waves of sensation ebbed, she went straight for her target, slipping the vibe down between her ass cheeks, slick with both the lube

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and her own arousal. She figured she’d have to circle around for a couple of minutes, but her body proved her a liar. The instant she slipped the head of the toy inside the tight ring of muscle, her pussy contracted again, her whole body contorting as she moaned her way through another powerful orgasm. She dropped back against the cushions, the vibe rolling out of her trembling fingers. Dammit, she was going to have to bronze that thing. “Come here,” Tristan demanded, his voice stirring her from her semidoze. “Come sit on my lap.” She opened her eyes and let out a soft cry at how hard he was. She could see every vein and ridge of his cock. She wished for enough energy to suck him off, but her feet felt weighted to the carpet. She couldn’t even move to go to him. “I’ll do all the work,” he added with a smile, patting his thigh. “Come here. I need you.” With those three little words, she found strength she hadn’t known she had left. She’d crawl to him if she had to. She all but hurtled across the space separating them, about to straddle his legs when he nudged her around to face the other way. Matt had risen too and stroked his cock as he waited for her to take a seat. “A new position already,” she murmured. “We have a lot to work through,” Tristan agreed with a soft laugh. He quickly put on a condom and pulled her down until she hovered above his cock. “Spread those pretty thighs for me. That’s it. Take me in—” He stopped and grunted, holding her still. “What? What did I do?” “Can’t. I’ll lose it.” He forced out a breath. “Gotta do it slow. You’re drenched.” “Well, duh. Did you see me come over there?” Both men laughed, and the sound warmed her through and through. She’d started to get a chill, but now it was gone, lost in the heat of the man sliding inside her. He went achingly slow, but she still jolted as he filled her. Fuck, he was huge. So aroused, so hard, so— “Good,” she whispered once he was seated. He caught her hips in his hands as he started to thrust and retreat. He didn’t go deep, not at first. Taking care of her as always. “All right?” His fingers spanned her stomach, pulling her backward a little to change the angle. She gasped, and he immediately stilled. “Want me to stop?” “No, stupid. Can’t you feel how she’s creaming around your dick?” Shaking his head, Matt knelt in front of them. When she thought she couldn’t deal with any more sensation, he leaned forward and licked her right above where she and Tristan were linked. Then he licked Tristan’s cock too, before her juicy pussy swallowed it again. “Christ, that’s so hot. You’re incredible. Watch him fuck you, Cait.” Shocked at how indescribably dirty it was to watch Tristan’s cock push in and out of her, she stared. She bit her lip at the mini explosions that went off inside her, trying to hold back. Not yet. She didn’t want to come so soon. Tristan was inside her. Finally. She didn’t want it to end. Ever.

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Matt’s tongue flattened against her clit. Fiery need gripped her as she fought to get more of Tristan’s cock and feel more of Matt’s talented tongue. “Baby, I can’t hold on. Can’t. Sorry,” Tristan grunted, almost shocking her out of her own impending orgasm. He was sorry? “Oh fuck. Oh Caity.” When he shouted her name as he came, his hips thrashing madly against hers, his breath a hot gust against her back, tears sprang into her eyes. She loved him so much. She hated that she’d hurt him. Worse, that she’d likely do it again. But she couldn’t concentrate on tears, not when Matt was still between their legs, licking Tristan’s balls, sucking her clit, driving her crazy. An inferno of heat swept over her body, and her painfully erect nipples tightened even further. Then Matt sealed his lips around her clit and pulled. Pleasure drenched her as her body clenched and released, her pussy flooding yet again. From what seemed like far away, she heard Matt groan and figured he'd probably made himself come too. The climax shot through her harder than all the rest, leaving her weak and sweaty and damn near unconscious. This orgasm—the best of the best—had come from all their efforts. Something the three of them had shared, had given each other. There was no point in denying it. A few minutes later, one of them picked her up and carried her off to bed. By then she couldn’t even open her eyes to check which. Soft lips glanced off her temple, along with words of love that followed her into sleep.

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Chapter Eight Matthew woke in heaven. Or at least that was how it felt to wake up in his gigantic bed with Cait snuggled against one side and Tristan against the other, though he’d stolen all the covers and left both Matt and his darling Caity bare. Completely bare, as all three of them were sleeping nude. He tightened his arm around Cait and pressed a kiss to her hair. She didn’t stir. He grinned. No fucking wonder. The girl had been a damn coming machine the night before. She shifted her thigh against his, and his cock woke up, painfully. Christ, he’d probably have to go in the bathroom and take care of things himself. It wasn’t even light out yet, and already he was sporting morning wood. A couple of minutes later, Tristan jerked awake, his long body sliding against Matt’s before he rolled away and headed off toward the bathroom. Yep, another middle-of-the-night wood. He’d felt the prominent shape of it against his back. His grin broadened. Maybe he should go help his buddy out. Carefully he untangled himself from Cait and followed Tris into the bathroom. “You mind?” Tris said as he glanced up and saw him in the doorway. He wasn't touching himself but had braced his hands on the sink as if he were fighting some internal war. Nothing unusual there. “Nope,” Matt said cheerfully, well aware Tristan always woke surly. More than once they’d met just like this in the bathroom in the latest part of the night, just before sunrise, desperate to get one more quick orgasm in before Cait woke. They’d become adept at being quiet, at stifling their shouts on each other’s shoulders. Or with a cock stuffed in their mouth. Whichever applied. “She’ll wake up,” Tristan began, though his protests were short-lived. He turned, his raging hard-on gripped in his fist. “She needs to sleep.” “Yeah, yeah. Save the whales and protect the kittens later.” Matt grabbed a handful of Tristan’s hair and pulled his mouth closer for a rough kiss. Stubble scraped his cheeks as he slanted his mouth over his friend’s, stabbing his tongue deep in a graceless imitation of what he yearned to do with his cock. He didn’t have to check his strength, and he didn't have to seduce. This would be just a quick climax, with little foreplay and no expectation of romance. He expected Tris to pull away and command him to suck his cock. His mood from earlier that evening had shifted to stony silence, and Matt was pretty sure he wouldn't bother tempering his demands. He didn’t care. His throat already ached for Tristan’s stiff length, and he craved the salty flavor of his release. Making Tris come was no hardship. But he didn’t demand anything. Instead Tristan deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup the back of Matt’s head as his tongue plundered Matt’s mouth.

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They didn’t normally kiss like this. Hell, a lot of times they didn’t kiss at all. But he found himself curling his fingers around Tris’s biceps and leaning in, hungry for this new side to his best friend. Tristan shifted his kisses to Matt’s neck, and his lips were soft and hot as they trailed over his throat and skimmed his Adam’s apple. He didn’t nibble or bite or add that quicksilver edge of pain both enjoyed, but it still felt so damn good. Matt’s pulse kicked up, and his breathing shortened when Tristan’s wide hands meandered over his chest. Tristan toyed with the flat disks of his nipples, brushed his fingertips through the smattering of light brown hair dusting his pecs and arrowing down his torso. Tristan was touching him differently too. More tenderly. Christ, it was almost as if he was making love to him. Suddenly uneasy, Matt swallowed and tried to move back. But Tristan vised a hand around his swollen dick and rubbed, just enough to earn an oath. What the heck was his buddy trying to do to him? Tristan’s mouth returned to his throat, his tongue darting over Matt’s skin in sexy serpentine flicks while his fingers molded his length. It was too much. Not enough. He didn’t get what was happening, why the tempo had changed. But he couldn’t keep from driving his cock into Tristan’s fist or hold back the muffled groan as his best friend sank to his knees and swallowed the head of his cock. Even with the flurry of orgasms earlier that night, in moments he was on the verge of coming. Tristan knew just how to suck him, lapping at the precum that bubbled up in his slit before deep throating his length. Matt threaded his fingers through Tristan’s silky dark hair, directing his movements, but he didn’t need to. Tristan was an expert. He knew just where to press behind Matt’s balls to make him groan and pump into his throat, helpless against the need quaking through his body. He longed for that helplessness even while he tried to steel himself against it. But why bother? He could never resist Tristan. Or Tristan’s mouth. He shuddered and gasped as he drained himself inside Tristan’s throat, the muted vibrations from Tristan’s moans magnifying his pleasure until it became nearly unbearable. Afterward, he staggered away and gripped the counter, his breathing ragged. He managed to glance at Tristan as he rose and wiped his chin, but he didn't know what to say. For once he was speechless. Tristan moved into his space, using his broad shoulders and football player’s physique to its full advantage. He leaned in, slanting his mouth over Matt’s. His tongue dipped inside, slid back out. But it was enough for Matt to taste his own release, and he moaned as a residual tremor rocked him. His heart was actually racing, goddamn it, his skin clammy. His back hurt with the effort it took to breathe. He’d made love with women before, of course. He usually preferred fast and sweaty to slow and leisurely, but occasionally he’d gone that route. But with Tristan? Never. And when he was spread open with Tristan in his ass, he felt less vulnerable than he did right now. He tried to make a joke out of it. That was what he did. But the banked emotion in Tristan’s dark green eyes gave Matt permission to relax into the moment and drop his forehead against his best friend’s.

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The man he loved, with whom he’d shared the girl they both adored. For the first time, he began to see—really see—beyond the sex to the possibility of something more for all three of them. Before the idea had been fuzzy, and he couldn’t really picture it other than the immediate thrill of the three of them in bed together. Yeah, so romance wasn’t his forte. But right now? Anything seemed within reach. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, Tristan’s exhalations sweet on his lips. Tristan smiled and smacked his ass. “Pleasure was all mine.” Cait rolled over in bed, sighing a little as she reached out for her lovers. When her roaming hand grabbed nothing but sheets, her eyes flew open. The bedroom was dark, the only illumination coming from the nightlight in the adjoining bathroom. Icy panic slid through her belly, making her shiver as she shot upright. Had she imagined all of this? Was it a dream? Then she heard them—not their voices, but soft grunts and groans she immediately recognized as mostly Matt, with some Tristan thrown in for good measure. She smiled and relaxed against the headboard, snatching the pillow beside her as her sleep-fogged brain finally grasped what they were doing. She bit her lip. God, she loved watching them together. But from the sounds of things, this wasn't like earlier. These moans were softer, almost…intimate. Less about fucking and more about lovemaking. Kind of amazing, really. She couldn’t see her brutish, tough-guy best friends actually making love. Tenderly. Carefully. With her, maybe, but with each other? Matt let out a long groan, and she pressed her thighs together, shocked to feel herself dampening again. Damn, had they broken her off switch or what? She’d been in a constant state of arousal for almost twelve hours, minus the few she’d managed to sleep. But they weren’t much better. They were going at it again, weren’t they? She sank into the pillows, rubbing her cheek against soft flannel. She tried not to pay attention, but they sounded so sexy together. She heard them whispering, and then it was Tristan’s deep sighs drawing forth the heat between her legs. What was Matt doing to him? Imagining it, she cupped her breasts, rolling her already hard nipples under her thumbs before slipping a hand down her body. Cait grimaced at the soreness as she shifted her thighs apart, but it didn’t stop her from seeking her clit. The soft flesh rose insistently under her touch, and she sawed her teeth across her lip to keep from crying out. She held on, narrowly, until she heard Tristan lose it in a long series of grunts. Her climax hit her in a hard wave, and she gasped, unable to repress the noise. She turned her face against the pillow, still quivering from the aftershocks. She must’ve started to doze because the next thing she knew, the guys were coming back to bed, and she had to yank her hand away like a kid caught pilfering sweets from the cookie jar. “Well, well, well,” Matt drawled as he rolled across the mattress. “What do we have here?” Her face warmed, and she tried to slip her hand discreetly beneath the pillows. “Where’d you go? Missed you,” she said, finding his lips with her own. That might’ve worked as a distraction if she hadn’t tasted the salty muskiness on his tongue and shivered. “Like that, huh? You’re our naughty little girl, aren’t you?”

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“Not a little girl.” She grinned and snuggled closer as Tristan rounded the bed to get in behind her. “Naughty, yes. Little girl, no.” “Not little,” Tristan agreed, filling his palm with her ass cheek. “No indeed.” “Hey, watch it,” she said, turning her grin toward him when he leaned over her shoulder for a kiss. She tasted that same intoxicating flavor on his tongue and fought not to react. But his quick grin told her he knew the train of her thoughts anyway. “I missed you too,” she whispered against his mouth. “We thought you were sleeping.” “I was.” “Liar,” Matt said, brushing a kiss over her shoulder. “Here, you’re cold. Let me grab the extra comforter.” “You could keep me warm,” she said, shifting onto her back so she could glance from one to the other. “You’re good at that.” Matt got up and went to the chest at the foot of the bed. “Not happening. You’ve had enough fun for one night. Now you’re sleeping.” She glanced at Tristan as he wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. “You know, I haven’t gotten to be alone with you yet. Maybe we should lock him out of the bedroom. What do you say?” “Lock me out of the bedroom in my own house? Not happening, kid.” “Your house? This isn’t a rental or something?” She frowned and pushed up on one elbow as Matt strolled back to the bed, spare comforter in hand. “How come I didn’t know about this?” “Am I supposed to check in with you whenever I do anything?” “Yes, you are. You both are,” she added, nodding at Tristan. “And if you’re buying up little love shacks for your clandestine affairs, I should be made aware.” “Clandestine means not public knowledge. And if you want to be privy to those secrets, guess you’re the only one I’m allowed to have an affair with, then. Present company excluded.” Cait narrowed her eyes at Matt. “Don’t tie me up with nonsense rules. You guys know everything there is to know about me.” “Not true. I don’t know how you taste down here,” Tristan said, laying his hand lightly on her mound. “And we don't know what it will feel like for both of us to be with you at once.” “All in due time,” she said, wary once again. As curious as she was—and as much as she’d enjoyed everything thus far—she was still anxious when she allowed herself to think about being with both men simultaneously. “We also don’t know what it’s like to go out with you,” Matt said, crawling back into bed. “That’s completely untrue,” she said. “We’ve gone out a million times.” “Not just going out. A date.” “With both of you? I can’t do that,” she said, though she knew she was circling back to the same fight they’d had earlier. But she’d be damned if they operated under any illusions. Monday they’d go back to work. Friday she’d head home to spend Christmas Eve with her family while Tristan and Matt headed to Tristan’s house. Matt’s mom lived in Idaho, and some years they didn’t spend the holiday together, though either he or his mom would travel home for New Year’s Eve. Since Matt’s dad had died when Matt was just a baby, he and his mom were

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especially close. The rare Christmases he didn’t fly home he spent with the Baldwins after he swung by Cait’s house to open presents. She’d spent plenty of her own Christmases with Tristan’s family as well, but usually not until Christmas Day evening when she couldn’t take any more of her mother, sisters, and assorted nieces and nephews. Their lives were fully enmeshed and had been for so long. She was terrified what they’d done would change that, but the alternative was pretending she could handle seeing where things went between the three of them. And that was just not…feasible. She wasn’t that sort of woman. If she was, why had she waited so long to have sex in the first place? Maybe because you knew once you started, you’d be a raging maniac. Genes will tell. Look what’s happened so far. “Sure you can,” Tristan said, his voice free of rancor. “To prove it to you, we’ll go out to eat for your birthday.” “We always go out together for my birthday. What’s new about that?” “This will be a real date, with both of us. We’ll take you someplace romantic and spoil you rotten.” She snorted at Matt, shaking her head. “You never spoil me. You're too cheap. Tristan's the spoiler.” “He only has the money to spoil you because I rein in his damn spending.” “No, he only has the money to spoil me because I’m such an awesome designer and make you both so much money,” she teased, patting his chest. “Yeah, well, I design too,” Tristan interjected. “I also go out and get most of our clients, so I think I’ve earned the right to spend the money I make from the business with my name on it.” “You may be awesome, but he spends it almost as fast as you make it, kid.” “Love when you guys talk about me like I’m not even here,” Tristan said, turning his face into Cait’s neck. “Makes me wonder what it is I see in you.” “Me, it’s my big breasts.” Cait grinned at her less than noteworthy chest. “And me, it’s my big…well, I won’t brag in front of the lady.” She rolled her eyes. “More like won’t tell lies in front of the lady.” “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” Matt said, pulling her mouth to his for a slow, simmering kiss. “Either of you, for that matter,” he added against her lips. “Tristan’s is bigger.” She laughed when Matt yanked on her hair. “You’re just an overachiever.” “See why I love her?” Tristan grinned and cuddled her closer, though Matt immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and snuggled in as well. “She has exquisite powers of perception.” “Remind me he gets your ass, then.” She stiffened before she could stop herself. Tristan’s head came up, and she knew he was giving Matt the evil eye. “We won’t do anything you don’t want,” he said in the same voice he'd used to soothe her forever. “If you’d rather we not do that, we won’t. Plenty of other things we can occupy ourselves with.” “I’m not sure about a date,” she said instead of replying to his comment. “Dates imply kissing and holding hands and—”

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“And you giving us a chance to be with you before you slam the door on us,” Matt said, surprising her by jumping in before Tristan could. “One date. What’s the big deal?” He had a point. It was only one night. “Where?” “That's a surprise.” “Someplace up here. Not back home. I don't want to chance running into anyone.” “Like anyone would care you were out with us,” Tristan said, his tone tense. “If we’re not worried about it, why are you?” “You’re not the one who’d be labeled a slut,” she said, wrapping her arm around him when he shifted his head onto her breasts. She sifted his silky hair through her fingers as his lips grazed her nipple. “You’re not a slut.” “No, but what do you think people would think if they saw me kissing both of you?” She sucked in a breath as Tristan suckled on one nipple while Matt latched onto the other. “Letting you both do whatever you want to me…” “Whatever you want,” Matt corrected, speaking around the tight tip in his mouth. “We’re not about to push you into anything you’re not ready for. That’s a promise.” “What about everything besides sex?” It was so much harder to think when they were kissing her and touching her and making her want to forget her own boundaries. “What about dates and relationships and—” Tristan eased back to look up at her. “One date. If you decide that’s all you want, we’ll agree to abide by your wishes.” “You won’t try to change my mind?” “No. We won’t,” Matt replied, rolling away from her just enough that she missed his warmth. And his firm lips on her nipple. “If you decide you can’t go further, this weekend will be it.” Again they exchanged looks, but Tristan finally nodded. “It’s your choice,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast. “Okay.” She let out a shuddering breath. No one would know. One date. No biggie. “Then we’ll go on that date.”

**** When Tristan awakened the next morning, the bed was empty. Matt had left a note on the nightstand that he’d gone cross-country skiing and would be back in a couple of hours, but there was no mention of Caity. He realized why when he looked across the room and saw her at the little writing desk in the corner, her attention on his laptop screen. He eased up on one elbow, watching her work. She’d coiled her sunny hair in some sort of twist, secured with a couple of pencils, and her attire consisted of one of Matt’s flannel shirts that hung most of the way down her bare thighs and a pair of white gym socks, probably also Matt’s because they slouched halfway up her calf. Even without any attempt at artifice—or maybe because she didn’t bother with any—she was still the prettiest, sexiest woman he knew. “Whatcha doing?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. She whirled around in the chair. “Didn’t know you were up.”

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All the way up, as his waking cock attested to. He shifted the sheet over his erection and turned onto his side to prop his head on his hand. “Just woke. Empty beds are mean.” She laughed and stood, stretching her arms over her head in the same stretch she’d done every morning for years. But normally she wasn’t basically naked. Buttons gaped, revealing a hint of her breast, and the shirt rode up, exposing more than a hint of the downy blonde hair between her legs. As if she noticed his discomfort, she grinned. “You okay over there?” “Yeah.” He rolled onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes. “I’m trying not to look so I don’t want.” “Why? We’ve got a while before Matt comes back.” She crawled across the mattress and slid her soft, cool palm up his chest. “I want to be with you. Just us. Just to see what it’s like.” He dropped his arm and looked at her, hearing the quaver in her voice. “I’ve wanted that for so long.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Because I couldn’t choose. It felt wrong. And dirty.” “It’s not wrong or dirty. Why is loving someone ever wrong?” He opened his arms to her, and she settled inside them, dropping her head to his chest. “It would be a lot easier if it were just you and me, wouldn’t it?” “Yes, I guess it would be.” She paused just long enough for his heart to trip. “But I can’t see us without Matt. He’s part of us.” He hadn’t meant to test her with that question, but it slipped out anyway. And she’d passed. Or failed, because in his weak moments, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t take her up on her offer if she suggested a relationship with just one of them. He knew ultimately it wasn’t what he wanted, but some of her heart was better than none. Wasn’t it? If she chose him, he wouldn’t be able to still be with Matt on the side. It would be way too complicated. But how could he ask Matt to step aside? How could he step aside if her choice turned out to be his best friend? Christ, it was all so complicated. “Yeah, he is.” “Have you always known you…had feelings for him?” “Sexual feelings? No. It wasn’t until a year or so ago that I really started becoming aware of them. He’d do something, and I’d just notice. And more than notice, if you get me.” “He’s the only guy you’ve ever wanted?” “Yeah. He says that means I’m only lukewarmly bi.” He laughed and kissed her forehead. “He’s been into other guys. He never pursued long-term relationships with them, or so he says, but I wasn’t the first man for him.” “Does that mean he slept with other guys or just fooled around with them? We talked about it, but he wasn’t really clear, and I didn’t want to pry.” Tristan flicked her nose. “Sure you didn’t.” Cait’s questions were legendary. She wanted to know everything about everything and had a brain that worked at warp speed. Showing her a new aspect of design software could easily

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result in an hour-long Q&A. Two if she’d warmed up with soda beforehand. Sugar made Caity’s already warp-speed brain truly scary. Apparently her curiosity also extended to his and Matt’s sexual activities. He supposed he should be glad she’d lifted the veil of secrecy with him on the topic of sex, but talking about it wasn’t his favorite thing to do. “I think he slept with a couple of guys. We’ve never really discussed it.” “Are you always on top?” Tristan shook his head, smiling. “Are these the kinds of conversations you normally have with him? All the gory details?” “Usually, yeah. But I didn’t get a chance to ask everything I wanted to.” Her grin turned sly. “I did ask if it felt really good.” “And?” “And he said yes, naturally.” “He wasn’t lying. It feels incredible.” She circled his navel with her pinky. “So…are you always on top?” Catching his constricted expression, she grinned. “Matt and I have this thing. Everything becomes hypothetical if we don’t feel comfortable discussing it. So, hypothetically, are you always on top?” “Hypothetically, hmm?” The hypothetical thing seemed kinda stupid to him, but what did he know? The pair of them were so tight that their ways of dealing with each other must work pretty well. “Hypothetically, I’d say most of the time, yes. Not always.” “So it feels better to you that way.” “It feels pretty good regardless, but yeah, better for me. Hypothetically, of course.” He couldn’t keep from laughing. “So what about you?” He didn’t miss her quick swallow. “What about me?” “Which of us would you want to come inside you here first?” Teasing her, he ran his fingertips down the crack of her ass. “Assuming you want that at all. But fantasies count.” “Well, if I wanted that, hypothetically, I’d pick you. Only makes sense, since you’re more used to being in the…driver’s seat.” “Driving the stick, you mean?” “Right.” Laughing again, he drew her closer. “Curious about me and Matt, hypothetical girl?” “Yeah, guess I am. It’s just weird thinking of you two wanting each other. It’s beyond hot,” she added hastily. “But I haven’t totally wrapped my mind around it.” “Not sure I have either,” Tristan said, resting his cheek on her hair. Her peaches-and-cream scent saturated his airspace, and he smiled, amazed at how little it took to settle his mind. Holding her, smelling her, loving her…he’d won the damn lottery, and that only accounted for half his heart. The other half belonged to the man currently burning up the slopes. “But he still likes girls too. So maybe he’ll lose interest. Or you will.” “I suppose it’s possible. There’s always a chance people’s feelings will change. But if you operate from that position, constantly expecting the worst, then that’s what you’ll get.” It took him a minute to realize she’d had hope in her voice. His own hardened. “Oh, and if you’re

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wondering if maybe we'll lose interest in you? Not happening. We both wanted you long before we admitted to wanting each other. You really think this weekend’s changed any of that?” “You, better than anyone, know what I come from.” “What I know is that you have a mother who loves you. Not always the way you’d like, and yes, she’s made mistakes but—” “Mistakes? I didn’t know who my father was until I was sixteen. By then she’d moved on to three other guys, none of whom she bothered to marry, though that didn’t stop her from having kids with them. Both Ginny and Marnie repeated the pattern. Jury’s out on Val, but if genetics hold, she’ll flunk out of high school and end up with a kid instead too.” “Do you have any clue how judgmental you sound?” But she wasn’t through yet. “They don’t have any dreams left that don’t include diapers and two a.m. feedings.” “And that’s your mother's fault?” he asked, fighting to keep his tone steady. “Yeah, it is. What example did she give them?” He prayed for patience. “You gave them your example.” “Exactly! You know how close Val and I are. I’m determined she not fall into that trap. And now I’m mixed up in…” She fell silent. “Did it ever occur to you,” he asked softly, “that the reason this happened is because you need twice as much love? That it will take that much to get you to love yourself.” She looked away. “We just can’t agree on this, Tristan.” “Maybe not. But I’ll tell you this. I’d give anything to have Connie still around. I wouldn’t care if she flunked out of school and had a passel of kids,” he said quietly, watching the blush in her cheeks dim. Good. If shocking her into guilt was what worked, he’d damn well go that route. He’d try anything. “I wish to God I could be given that choice.” “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I must sound like the biggest bitch ever.” “You sound like you’re afraid that everyone else will judge you the way you’ve judged them all your life. But you never know. They might give you the benefit of the doubt you never saw fit to look for when it comes to your family.” “Your family’s different. You come from such good people.” “Your mom’s good people. Your sisters are sweethearts. They had a couple of unplanned kids, Cait. They love those kids too. They didn’t start World War Three. Jesus.” “You don’t get it, Tristan. People used to talk about me in school. The other kids. Sometimes even the teachers. You know how small Eastlake is. Everybody knew my business. I was the only kid who didn’t have a dad to come to school functions. Then for a while, I had a new ‘dad’ for every one of them.” She sighed and pressed her lips against his chest, but he had a feeling she wasn’t even aware of doing it. “My life’s been spent trying to make good. To show I’m not just that pathetic kid people either looked down on or felt sorry for. That I matter. That I can do whatever I put my mind to.” “And being in a committed relationship with two men who love you and you love back violates that somehow?” he asked, stroking her back. She didn’t answer. Finally he tipped up her chin and stared directly into her eyes, ignoring the hard bump of his heart at how glossy the blue had become. Caity’s tears always tore holes in

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him. “If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have made it through losing Connie.” She started to argue, but he shook his head. “You know it’s true. She was everything to me. To my parents and Steve too. She fought so hard her entire life, and there was no reason for her to die. What was the point? As some sort of lesson to the rest of us? Then what was it? I didn’t get it. She was so innocent and sweet. But she died anyway. Then you came into my life and made me realize I wasn’t dead.” “I didn’t do anything.” “You helped me remember to breathe. Every day I spent with you got a little better. You convinced me to just hang on. Christ, you held me when I cried. Do you remember that? All those nights I sat in my dorm room with the lights off until you came looking for me.” “Yeah, and we’d crawl in bed and trade outlandish stories. It was fun trying to guess which were real and which were made-up.” “Anything to make you laugh,” he murmured. “You spent so many nights in my room. But you weren’t worried what people might say.” “I was too scared for you,” she admitted, wiping away the tears that had snuck free. “My rep didn’t matter compared to how much I—” “Compared to how much what?” he asked gently when she faltered. “How much I love you,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut as her voice broke. He rubbed his thumbs under her eyes. “I told you we won’t push you. I promised. If you just want to explore this weekend, I’ll have to live with that. But so will you.” Cait’s throat worked as she swallowed. Even as soft and vulnerable as she was right now, he knew she’d channel those feelings into something else before she’d ever admit to them. That something else became painfully obvious as she peeled the sheet down his body. She reached up and pulled the pencils out of her hair and tossed them onto the floor. Her long blonde waves fell forward, making her look like the angel he’d always painted her as in his mind. Maybe Matt was right. He’d idealized her. Somewhere along the way, she’d become his idea of the perfect woman, and acknowledging she had flaws and insecurities like anyone else would take some work. Not that he’d love her any less, but he still hadn’t come to terms with them—or the real Caity—yet. Without a word, she encircled his flagging erection in her fingers, squeezing tightly as she reached underneath to cup his balls. She leaned forward to lick the crown, turning her face toward him so he could watch everything she was doing. His heartbeat skyrocketed when she started to suck, her perfect rose lips sliding down his shaft. “In a million years,” he whispered, enthralled by every flick of her tongue, every touch, “I never really believed this would happen. Hoped, hell yeah. God, I hoped.” She drew back with a sexy suctioning noise, her hesitant smile erasing the doubts in her eyes. “You were still ahead of me. I never even dared think it.” He threaded his fingers through her hair as she bobbed on his length. When she straddled him a couple of minutes later, he was rock hard and glistening. But she didn’t climb on right away. She stroked him slowly, moving the wet vise of her fingers up and down while he pressed his head into his pillow and counted backward from one hundred to keep from exploding all over her soft belly and pink-tipped breasts.

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Except that image didn’t exactly help. Envisioning her covered in his release made him even harder. Even more eager. He bit off a moan. “Might want to move things along.” But she merely smiled and licked her palm before gripping him again. Shifting slightly, she angled downward until she could rub her slick pussy over his thigh. She ground against him while she jerked him off, not stopping until they were both panting. “Condom?” she gasped. He yanked out the nightstand drawer and fumbled around, coming up with one like a prize. “Don’t think we brought enough of these.” “Don’t worry.” She leaned down to lap up the cream dampening the crown of his shaft. “I have extra in my purse. Lots extra,” she added with an eyebrow wiggle. “Have I ever told you you’re my dream woman?” Before she could answer, he worked on the latex and impaled her on his cock. She moaned as he drove into her silky heat, again and again. With one stroke, he was lost to her. He didn’t try to seduce or draw out the pleasure. He would’ve, if he’d had any ability to reason left. But there was only the snug grip around him and her breasts bouncing against her chest, dangling over his mouth when she rocked forward to take him to the hilt. He bit and sucked her swollen nipples, so rough he left marks. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop the need to slap her ass the faster she rode him, bearing down so hard that pinwheels of color danced across his vision before all went black. Deaf and blind to all but her pants and her hazy bluebell eyes as she rocked into bliss, he clenched her hips as if she held his life in her hands. Like she already held his heart. Her ragged breathing as she curled up on top of him was the sexiest sound he'd ever heard. He cradled her head in his hand and kissed her damp temple, his length still buried inside her. “Did you come?” he said when he could speak again, more than a little embarrassed he honestly didn’t know. He didn’t normally lose track of a woman’s orgasm, but then again he also had never been with this woman before this weekend. She’d given him a scorecard of all new rules. “Didn’t you feel it?” “Damn, I felt everything.” Her laughter spurred his own as she lifted her head. She flicked her tongue over her kissswollen lips. “Yeah, I came. Twice. The second time when you slapped me.” “Sorry about the slapping thing. I lost it.” “Sorry?” She arched a brow. “Did you hear the part about how it made me come?” She toyed with his nipples and shifted just enough to make them both groan. “So, you know, feel free to make me come like that again anytime you want.” “Duly noted. Assuming I can ever regenerate some damn brain cells enough to be able to actually think again.” “Don’t think yet.” She laid her hand on his jaw. “And don’t go yet either,” she said, squeezing him in case he didn’t get her drift. “Not going. Broken.”

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Laughing softly, she laid a trail of kisses up his throat and over his chin, nipping his lower lip. “It was every bit as good as I always dreamed,” she murmured. His throat tightened as he smoothed her waterfall of hair down her back. “So you’ve been doing that a lot about us? Dreaming?” “Oh, since college or so. But they were only occasional dreams, when my latest boyfriend turned out to be a dud. I knew you wouldn’t be.” She looked up at him and gave him a secret smile. “Which is why I think I always saved myself for you, even though I couldn’t admit it. A couple of times I came close to having sex. Really close. But every time I backed out and ran home to the apartment to be with you and Matt.” She sighed. “I kept trying to do what I thought I should. Find a decent guy—one decent guy—and maybe think about settling down.” “Yeah. We knew. We flipped out every damn time you got a new boyfriend, thinking he’d be it and you’d leave us.” Cait scooted down to rest her head on his chest, her fingers sifting through the curly, dark hair on his pecs. “None of them ever measured up. Not emotionally or sexually, although it wasn’t just about that. None of them made me feel this way. The way I’ve always felt for you. The way I grew to feel about Matt. It took longer with him,” she acknowledged. “He was so hard to get to know at first, and he always had that sarcastic edge. But eventually I fell for him too. It scared me.” She let out a long breath. “I’ve been scared for a long time, Tristan.” “Yeah, I get that. Believe me. Going after what you want and facing losing everything if you fail is scary as fuck.” He shifted her until they were on their sides. Then he laid his hand against her cheek and kissed her gently, as gently as the love he was afraid to trust was blooming between them. “You were the second girl I ever fell hard for.” “Who was the first?” She made a face before he could answer. “Not Stacy Harcourt.” “Yeah. The older woman who broke my tender heart.” He grinned as he pushed aside her hair to nuzzle her neck. “Older? Wasn’t she like twenty-one when you were eighteen?” “Still counts.” “Now she was a bad girl,” she said, arching her neck to give him more access. “Sexually adventurous, she called it.” “Right.” Caity wrinkled her nose. “Bet she’s got road burn by now.” “Don’t know what that means, but it sounds bad.” He laughed and cuddled her closer. God, he never wanted to let her go. “We should get you cleaned up,” he said after a few moments of companionable silence passed. “You have to be sore.” “Only a little. And I like this particular soreness.” She licked her lips and teasingly wiggled her hips, rocking him inside her until he groaned. “Wanna try for round two?” “You must really think I am Superman.” With the way she made him feel—the way they both made him feel—she wasn’t too far off. “I always have.” She tightened her arms around him. “Promise me something, Tristan.” The fragile peace between them felt so tenuous he hated to shatter it. But he wouldn’t lie to her—unless he had no choice. “What?” he asked, immediately on guard.

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“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends. Nothing can change that, right? Because I honestly don’t think I could handle losing you.” “You didn’t mention Matt,” he said, his voice strained. How could she ask him to promise eternal friendship when he hadn’t even seen how this would play out? It was as if she wanted to have her cake, eat it too, and then force him to pretend to like that she’d scarfed the rest without sharing. “I don’t have to worry about him.” “He is your real best friend, isn’t he?” “It’s just different,” she said dismissively, waving a hand. “He’s a survivor. He’ll deal with whatever happens. Now promise me.” “And I’m not a survivor? I’ve dealt with a hell of a lot, and I’m not dead yet.” “Of course you are. But you take everything so much deeper than he does.” “Did it maybe occur to you that you don’t know him as well as you think? That maybe his fascination with bondage isn’t the only side of him you’ve missed?” Her eyes flashed. “Matt’s not up for discussion right now. You are. Stop stalling.” He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “I promise,” he said finally, though he didn’t look at her when he said the words. For the first time, he’d made a promise he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep.

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Chapter Nine Matt heard them laughing and whispering when he finally returned to the cabin late that afternoon. It was nearing sunset, and he’d been gone all day. Skiing first, as he’d said in his note; then he’d gone back to the loft to gather Cait’s birthday gifts. Bringing them to the cabin had been Tris’s job, but he’d forgotten. The pain in the ass oversight had turned out to be a blessing in disguise since he had a surprise visitor waiting for him: his mother, suitcases in hand and wearing a bright smile because her vacation had started a week earlier than planned. Wasn’t that awesome? Well, yeah, of course it was. He was thrilled to see her. A couple of trips back and forth per year weren’t enough. But had she really had to pick this Christmas to do a sneak attack? He would have to cut their weekend o’sex at the cabin a day short, though he already felt bad making his mom stay alone at the loft tonight. He’d made up some nonsense story about him and Tristan treating Cait to a special weekend for her birthday, which wasn’t totally untrue, and left his mom with a stack of movies and a quick dinner he’d whipped up. Guilt wasn’t an emotion he experienced often. If he had regrets, he did his best to correct what he could and move on. Brooding was something he left to Tristan most of the time. Tonight wasn’t one of them. He hated skipping out on his mom after she’d traveled all that distance to be with him. It was just one night, but still. That he’d left her to go play sex games with his roommates made his guilt even worse. Probably because he knew she’d never understand what the hell he was doing and why he couldn’t just do it with one partner, namely Cait, whom she loved like a daughter and would’ve been over the moon to see him end up with. She just wouldn’t be thrilled about the guy who came with her. Then there was issue number two. They’d already had very little time to convince Cait about the rightness of the three of them. Now they’d have a day less. Though from the sounds of things in the hot tub, Cait and Tristan were having a fine time without him. Matt dumped Cait’s presents on the chair in the corner and headed into the bathroom as noiselessly as possible. Candlelight reflected off the polished wood floor and the black tile walls. Bubbles and water splashed over the sides of the hot tub as Cait eased through the froth to snuggle against Tristan’s chest. He cradled her in his arms, muscles flexing, and she whispered something as she rested her head on his shoulder. God, they looked happy. Maybe they could be permanently if he wasn’t in the picture. After all, he’d been the last to meet both of them. They’d already been a unit by the time he’d been partnered with Tristan in one of his design classes freshman year of college, and he’d been sure they were a couple. Most people still thought that to this day when they first met them. The vibe they gave off definitely spoke of love, and this weekend had only amplified that.

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His throat constricted, and the unexpected heat in his eyes made him turn his back. If you love them, do what’s best. Step away. He was the problem, after all. Without Cait, he and Tris weren’t happy. Cait would never be part of a long-term threesome, and truthfully after seeing his mom tonight, he didn’t know if he could deal with it either. At least not publicly. He would never hurt his mom that way—and she would be hurt, blaming herself for what she would see as his dysfunctional lifestyle. She wasn’t a cruel woman, but she was old-school. She’d never get this. Nor would she be pleased at the likelihood she would never have grandchildren. Really, how the hell could they handle kids? True, it was far out. No reason to even touch on that now. But he had to be realistic. If he wanted to go the whole home-and-family route someday, how could that fit into this scenario? Tristan could father a couple while he fathered the rest? Crazy. And the kids would have two daddies? How the hell would that work? Or would they lie to them and have them call one of them “daddy” and the other a “special family friend”? With a grimace, he reached behind him to pull his T-shirt over his head. Maybe Cait was right. They were living a fantasy this weekend. And all fantasies had to end. This one’s curtain would come down tomorrow morning. He’d almost decided to head back into the bedroom and bypass their tub hijinks altogether when Cait murmured, “Hey, you. We almost sent out a search party.” Did you really care? Or was I an afterthought? Pasting on a smile, he turned around and tossed his shirt on the floor. He removed the long-sleeved shirt he wore under his rock band T-shirt and stopped. For once he didn’t know what move to make next. His cock said to get in the tub with them. It was built to hold four, and they’d have more than enough room to play. If he was honest, his heart wanted the same thing. It felt altogether too cold outside the circle the three of them made. Which was just dumb. He wasn’t a romantic, and a blanket would warm him up as thoroughly as sharing their body heat. Maybe not as spectacularly, but he’d better start dealing with reality soon. As good as he was at taking curveballs and making them work with his plans, he didn’t have a clue how to go forward from here. His blueprints weren’t worth shit anymore. “Hey, man,” Tristan added, his voice roughened with desire. Not too surprising since he had their gorgeous little blonde practically supine in his arms. But when Matt’s gaze connected with his best friend’s, he could tell Tristan didn’t only desire Cait. “Wondered where you went.” “Went skiing, just as the note said. And I went home for a bit.” “Home?” Cait’s expression clouded. “Why?” Matt looked at the two of them, really looked, and knew he couldn’t intrude on their protective bubble just yet. He needed this night with them so badly. What that made him, he didn’t know. Horny. Desperate. Maybe just stupid. But who the hell could blame him for staring into Cait’s gorgeous blue eyes and Tristan’s equally sexy green ones and wanting to move heaven and earth to keep them in his life just a while longer? And not just in his life. Naked. Vulnerable. Totally his, for as long as it lasted.

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“Somebody forgot Cait’s presents,” he said lightly, resting his hand on his fly. Dumb to need to be asked to the party after all they’d done together, but there it was. He wouldn’t join them unless they invited him. “You get shy all of a sudden?” Tristan said, his gaze dropping pointedly. “And why the hell aren’t you in this tub yet?” One out of two. Cait cocked her head, her wet hair streaming over her shoulders and dipping into her huge, trusting eyes. Later he was sure the wariness and nerves would return. Now all he could read in her gaze was excitement and hunger. “We missed you,” she added huskily, her sensual voice caressing every word. “Don’t you want to come play?” Matt flipped open the button of his jeans and dragged down the zipper. “Hell yeah I want to play. Though I bet you’ve been playing plenty without me.” “We tried another new position.” She laughed and stroked Tristan’s chest. “Well, new for me since I’m pretty sure he’s done it plenty.” “Which one is that?” Matt shed his jeans and boxers, wincing a little at how eagerly his cock stretched up his abs. Fucking A, he was hard. Already. No one had even touched him yet. “Been working your way through the Kama Sutra?” “Too impatient for tantric sex. Maybe in a few years when I’ve made up for lost time.” She shifted in Tristan’s arms, rising up so that her puckered pink nipples floated just above the surface of the bubbles. “Nope, we tried the kitchen table. Me bending over it, that is. It was just the right height.” She shot Tristan a grin. “Then we had lunch.” Matt sat on the side of the tub. “Where else did you two desecrate my house?” “That’s it. We stayed in bed most of the day, but we just talked mostly. Oh, and watched cable.” “Porn?” “No, a bunch of home reno shows.” She giggled, and for the first time, Matt saw the bottle of champagne on the floor next to the tub. No wonder she was so loose. “You got her drunk, huh?” Matt shook his head and trailed a hand through the fragrant bubbles until he could wrap his fingers around her shapely calf. “Only had a glass or two.” “Or half the bottle,” Tristan said dryly, coiling her hair around his finger. “But who’s counting?” “It’s my birthday. Almost. And my present’s to get drunk and fuck my two favorite boys.” She sidled forward and rose out of the water to throw an arm around Matt’s neck. She pulled hard enough to drag him into the tub, splashing a ton of water onto the floor. “Jesus, Cait. Yeah, she’s drunk,” Matt said, fisting a handful of her hair to right himself once he’d landed in the soapy water. “Oops.” She laughed and wrapped herself around him, settling her warm, wet body between his legs. “Missed you,” she said again, kissing him with the same strength she’d used to pull him into the hot tub. “Did you miss us?” Her tongue speared into his mouth, and he groaned as he responded. He enfolded her in his arms and sucked on her flesh, enjoying the taste of the champagne and the chocolate that flavored her kisses. “What’ve you been eating?” he asked when he had to draw away to breathe.

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“More chocolate cake. We polished off half of it.” Her eyes closed on a dreamy sigh, and Matt took the opportunity to glance at his best friend. With a smile, Tristan stretched his arms along the side of the tub. His troubled eyes belied his lazy pose. That he’d barely spoken since Matt had arrived said everything. Normally Tristan was talkative, unless he was unhappy. Despite how he’d been this weekend, he wasn’t unhappy much. The guy usually fought to see the rainbow in every damn cloud. Even after his little sister had died, he’d done his best not to fall into the murk that could’ve swallowed him so easily. “You okay?” he asked in a low voice, nudging Tristan’s leg with his foot. “Sure.” Instead of continuing that line of conversation, Tristan scooted forward in the water to encircle Cait’s waist in his arms, drawing her back against his chest. “Except I don’t like sharing.” “Oh no? Since when?” Matt shifted his legs until they were outside Tristan’s and moved forward until Cait was completely surrounded. “This one doesn’t mind being shared, do you?” She gave him a sexy smile and picked up his hand, tugging it between her legs. Who was he to argue? He separated her swollen folds, zeroing in on the tight bundle of nerves. She let out a soft cry when he pushed a finger inside her, inching in and out while she circled her arms around Tristan’s neck and arched up to kiss him. With his free hand, Matt flipped a button on the side and turned up the jets, sending plumes of hot water jetting all around them. Including millimeters from Cait’s pussy. “Shift over, baby,” he said, glad he’d sprung for a model with plenty of room to move. He pulled her off her knees and onto his lap. “Now open up those thighs a little…” Her moan told him she’d gotten the drift. She braced a hand on the wall and eased closer, using her fingers to spread herself open for the blasting jet. He’d experienced those jets against his cock often enough. But that was nothing compared to watching her cheeks bloom with color as he cupped her breast, squeezing hard while he sculpted her ass with his other hand. He separated her cheeks, teasing her rosette with the tip of his finger while Tristan drew up her leg, angling her just right so the pulsating stream hit her where she needed it most. “I want to taste you,” Tristan said thickly, his need evident in every taut line of his face. “Want to lick up your juice as you come.” She lifted her face from where she’d pressed it against Matt’s neck. “You’ll drown.” Not sure if she meant from the level of water in the hot tub or from her release, Matt chuckled. “Don’t think so, sweetheart. Pretty sure he can manage.” “I want you both to lick me. At once.” She climbed up on the edge of the hot tub and spread her legs, motioning them closer with a crook of her finger and a bewitching smile. “Maybe when you’re done, I’ll do the same for both of you. And…” She dropped her voice to a whisper as she pulled on her nipples. “Maybe I’ll even let you come right here.” Tristan shot him a glance, lifting his brows. “Some deal, huh?” “Sounds good to me.” Not wasting any time, Matt dipped his head. “Hold yourself open for us,” he said, his breath coming short when she obeyed. Already her clit swelled and pulsed for their touch. True to their agreement, he pushed her thigh back as far as he could on his side and waited until Tristan fit himself in beside her. It was awkward positioning to say the least—unless they wanted to break Cait open like a damn wishbone—but they did the best they could, sliding in and

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sipping from her hot liquid as if she’d turned on a spigot. Tristan slipped in a finger and indicated for Matt to do the same, and together, they finger fucked her and ate her pussy until she clutched at their hair and practically screamed. “Too good. Stop, stop!” Breathing hard, they both pulled back. Then she shook her head again. “No, it’s okay. It’s just your fingers and your mouths together are—” “Too intense?” Matt asked, feigning sympathy. She nodded. “Yeah.” “Oh, if that’s all, then…” Tristan flashed a grin at Matt and dove back down for more. “Too fucking bad,” he said, nuzzling her labia and tugging it between his teeth. Matt barked out a laugh and joined him, immediately taking up the position he’d just vacated. They each added their fingers and additional pressure, pushing her up to the point of no return so fast she screamed. Her inner walls contracted around their digits, but they didn’t stop. Tristan nudged him away as he fit three fingers inside her dripping slit. “Now eat her,” he instructed, moving as far out of the way as he could to give Matt room to work. “No. Really. I’m good.” She tried to draw her thighs together and moaned as Tristan pumped in and out. “I can’t come again yet.” “Wanna bet?” Matt wiggled his tongue at her, and she kicked out at him as they all laughed. Before she could voice any additional objections, Matt resumed devouring her. In not long at all, she cried out and tumbled over the brink again, her release as warm and stimulating as the bubbles that flowed out all around them. She went lax against the tile wall, her face so slack that Matt knew she’d be out in no time. “Too much booze and too many orgasms make Caity a sleepy girl,” she mumbled, earning another laugh from the guys. Matt glanced at Tristan. “Let’s get her in bed.” “If I go to bed, you hafta sleep too.” “Think that was an argument?” Tristan asked mildly, scooping her up into his arms. “Not gonna sleep.” She slung an arm around Tristan’s shoulder after giving him a loud, smacking kiss. “Just rest my eyes.” “Right.” Matt laughed and got out of the hot tub. He grabbed a stack of bath towels and followed them into the bedroom. He arranged one on the bed just before Tristan laid Cait down. After drying himself with the towel, he noticed Tristan watching him with a brow cocked. “Going to share that towel?” “Sure.” When he started to toss it, Tristan beckoned him closer. “You scared of me all of a sudden?” Tristan asked. “No. Of course not.” Matt came around the bed and worked the towel over his friend’s chest, trying to ignore his cock’s immediate interest in the proceedings. He dried Tristan’s muscled shoulders and back— and even his ass—without difficulty. But when he reached Tristan’s notable erection, he swallowed and swiped the towel up and down without looking any more than he had to.

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If he was going to try to figure out how to cool things down between the three of them, at least while his mom was in town, he might as well start by not responding to Tristan’s boners as if he wanted to do his best impression of Pavlov’s dog and get down on all fours. “So what if I told you to take care of this?” Tristan asked, circling the base of his length with his fingers. Matt swallowed and tossed aside the towel. He cast a quick glance at Cait, unconscious and curled up on her side on the bed. Water droplets glistened on her curves. “We need to dry her off,” he began. “It’s warm in here. She’ll be fine for a couple of minutes.” Tristan gripped Matt’s hair, a subtle, sexy dominance he never would’ve allowed any other man. “Now suck.” Matt got down on his knees and did as requested. The long, slow pulls of his mouth on Tristan’s hard-on provided a counterpoint to Matt’s erratic tugs on his own dick. He could feel the orgasm swelling in both of them, heightening the flavor of musk as he shifted to playfully tug on Tristan’s sac, building the overwhelming tightness in his own balls. While he alternated his attention between Tristan’s shaft and beneath, his best friend wove his fingers through his hair. He touched him so gently that even the hard cock in Matt’s mouth couldn’t distract him from the sting in his throat. Better get over it. This isn’t permanent. Caught up in his thoughts, Tristan’s sudden jerk and thrust shocked him, especially when followed by salty spurts of the liquid he knew so well. As if Matt’s erection were separate from his mind, his own cock went off, triggered by Tristan’s repeated groans and shudders. Matt stared down in wonderment at the thick white drops splashing all over his chest even as his body convulsed. Christ on a cracker, now he was coming without being fully aware of it. Who the hell had waking wet dreams? Tristan reached for one of the towels and cleaned himself up, then did the same to Matt. Just when Matt thought he’d gotten off scot-free, Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Wherever you just went in your head, hope there’s room for three.” Before Matt could scramble for a reply, Tristan headed into the bathroom and shut the door.

**** Cait yawned herself awake and burrowed her nose in the pillows. Mmm, she could smell Matt. His minty gum, his equally crisp aftershave. The spicier notes of Tristan’s, along with that expensive cologne he sometimes wore that acted as an instant nipple activator. She’d had the best dream about them going down on her for so long that she came and came. There had been another dream too, one even more dirty and decadent. Sighing, she squeezed her thighs together at the little trickle of warmth between them. Still wet. Still aroused. What had they done to her? Could they do it some more? Pretty please? “She’s up.” Tristan’s low voice sounded beside her. The TV show she’d only been dimly aware of clicked off. “Mmm, about time.” From behind, Matt’s arm circled her waist. He snuggled against her, his smooth, half-hard length nestling into the cleft of her ass. “Sleep well, snoozing beauty?”

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When he moved just right and she felt a hot, forbidden glimpse of his bare flesh between her legs, she let herself imagine fucking him without a condom. Fucking both of them that way. Feeling every inch of their stiff cocks stretching her open. As much as she wanted that, she wouldn’t take the chance. Couldn’t. Way too dangerous. Even though she was on the pill, she’d be risking a hell of a lot just for some pleasure. Just to feel all of them, moving with her. She forced back a shiver. “Yeah, slept okay,” she said in a scratchy voice. “Sorry, champagne went straight to my head.” “Fun to watch you sleep.” Tristan lay down beside her and wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. His lips softly met hers, eased back, then returned again. “Now it’ll be fun to wake you up.” Even if she had still been asleep, she could’ve heard the seductive promise in his voice. “What do you have in mind?” Matt tweaked her sensitive nipples, and she arched her back. He slid his cock between her ass cheeks, up and down in a slick motion that dampened her thighs even more. “Hope you have extra sheets,” she said to Matt. “Since I’m ruining these.” His warm chuckle had her eager nipples budding under his touch. “Ruin all my sheets, baby. That’s the sign of a good weekend in my book.” “So why don’t you tell us what you were dreaming about,” Tristan suggested, slipping his hand between her sticky legs. His groan proved what she already knew. “That got you all wet and bothered.” “Hot. It’s supposed to be hot,” Matt said. “That too.” Tristan feathered his tongue over the pulse point at the base of her neck. “Tell us.” “We can’t do it,” she said, knowing they’d argue. But she was too turned on to think of a convenient lie, if she’d even been able to pull it off anyway. “It’s not safe.” “Unsafe means pretty sexy in my world.” Matt bit her earlobe. “Share.” “It’s just because I fell asleep all churned up.” “Yeah, okay. Spill it.” She glanced up at Tristan’s gorgeous face, cast in shadows from the dim overhead light. “You were both inside me.” “Hot damn,” Matt said, rubbing her ass, making her laugh. “Not like that.” Tristan’s eyebrow winged up. “Both here?” he asked, delving his fingers just inside her lower lips. “No. No,” she said hurriedly. “Well, yeah, but not how you’re thinking. You were both moving in and out, but alternating. Like one behind me, one in front. One comes in, one goes out. And”—she swallowed—“you weren’t wearing condoms.” “We can do that.” “No, we really shouldn’t,” she said over her shoulder, giving Matt the perfect opportunity to sink his teeth into her lower lip. One hard tug and she gasped.

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“We’ll just play. It’ll be fine. Neither of us needs to come for a while, so it’ll be just about you mostly. And you’re on the pill, right?” She found herself nodding mutely once Matt relinquished his possession of her mouth. Then a thought occurred to her. “Why don’t either of you need to come? You didn’t in the hot tub.” Tristan grinned at her. “We can take care of ourselves, pretty thing.” As usual her imagination took that little tidbit and got busy. “No worries there, trust me. But I’m fine with just, you know, hanging out for a while. There are presents, right?” She craned her neck to look at the chair piled high with boxes and bags in the corner. “Yes, there are presents.” Tristan laughed and nudged her back down. “Why don’t you let us give you a different sort of present first?” he asked, encircling his cock in his long, blunttipped fingers. “Oh, but—” She broke off with a moan. Matt had dragged her leg up over both of his and was already working himself into her from behind. All that hard, rigid flesh, boring into her without anything between them. So much heat. “Oh God.” “Hell fuck yeah,” Matt grunted, pushing in to the hilt. “You’re fucking dripping.” A flush climbed up her throat. She opened her mouth to reply, but Tristan gripped her chin. “Don’t ever be embarrassed about that. We want you wet and open to us. Wherever, whenever. Our dirty little slut.” She shut her eyes, sure she’d misheard him. He couldn’t have called her a slut. Not knowing what that word meant to her, how she’d heard it wielded against people she loved. He wouldn’t do that to her. “Look at me, Caity.” Cait’s eyes opened, already wet. As wet as the rest of her, just like the slut he’d called her. “You’re not a slut, and we told you that last night. Better than anyone, we know you’re not. But that word doesn’t have to hold any more power than you give it.” Tristan kissed her, so softly her heart hurt. “Sometimes people use certain words in bed, things that turn them on. You know we like dirty talk.” “Yes. I do too. But that’s…” Hot. At least when he says it. Why won’t you just admit it? “If that word doesn’t work for you, if you can’t hear it any other way but the one fixated in your mind, I won’t say it again.” Matt slid out of her and drove in again. “She’s our slut, and she knows it. She just gets off on acting innocent.” He sucked a finger into his mouth, then reached down and circled her rosette. “Now she’s going to beg for my finger in her ass. Aren’t you, baby?” The dampness in her eyes evaporated as she took in Tristan’s tender expression. He loved her. She trusted that he would never willingly hurt her. And if she was honest, if she dared to be, her clit had throbbed when he’d said those forbidden words. “I’m yours,” she whispered, thrusting her ass back toward Matt. Right now she would be theirs. Until she couldn’t be anymore. “Your slut. And I want your finger.” “Where?” “In my ass,” she said, crying out when Matt gave her what she’d asked for.

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“Good girl.” Matt razed his teeth along her shoulder while he pumped his finger deeper and sank his cock into her tight channel. Her eyes started to drift shut again, but they went wide when Matt pulled out, and Tristan gripped his cock and embedded himself inside her. “God. That’s so…” “Amazing,” Matt groaned when they swapped places again. A couple of strokes each and they switched, cursing whenever their cocks bumped. Ripples of desire unfurled in her lower belly, traveling outward from where they were connected. They felt so different. Matt’s strokes were shorter, more unrestrained, while Tristan sank inside her and held before gliding in and out. Her arousal built much more quickly with Matt, but her climax lasted longer with Tristan. And now, with them doing as she’d asked, pushing her leg up and opening her to their alternating thrusts, she was both up and down simultaneously. Between each jump of excitement, there was a lull, but her core still cramped with her impending climax too damn quick. Tristan circled his thumb over her engorged bud of nerves while Matt’s finger coasted farther into her back entrance. Leaning down, Tristan nibbled at her lips. “Oh yeah, squeeze me. Just like that. Keep doing it.” She tightened around him and gasped at the burst of pleasure. Every time she clenched, the closer she rushed toward the first rise that would lead to so many more. And then she was there, grasping Matt’s hip and scraping her nails over Tristan’s taut stomach as she hurtled into the abyss. She moaned, the sound going on and on when Tristan dragged himself away and Matt plunged in while she was still coming. “Oh baby, yeah. Come for us. Again.” The finger in her ass pressed harder, and she came again. Or still. She didn’t know which. But this time she screamed as she hit her peak, her whole body shaking with the impact. She turned her face into the pillow as she fought to breathe. With the last of her waning energy, she grappled behind her for Matt’s cock and enfolded Tristan’s in her other hand. Slick from her, their lengths slid smoothly in her grip. With as much finesse as she could summon, she jerked them both off, moaning incoherently when, a few minutes later, Matt’s groan spilled over her just before his release splashed her back. A moment after that, her renewed concentration on Tristan’s granite-hard shaft resulted in a quick, steamy bath for her front. Matt dropped his damp forehead against her neck. “What was that about messy sheets?” Before she gave in to the urge to pass out again, she grinned and lifted her sticky fingers to her lips. Once she’d sampled Tristan’s salty flavor, she flicked her fingertips over her back and tasted Matt’s. Everything about them, right down to their release, was so different. So delicious. “Mmm. Definitely think I’ll need a shower after this.” “Hot tub?” Tristan suggested. She slugged his stomach, making him laugh. “No hot tub. No more orgasms. Not for at least an hour.” She threw another glance at the chair in the corner. Only pretty, wrapped boxes could distract her from her men. “I want my gifts.” “You already got them.”

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Matt choked out a laugh when she whacked him and crawled her way free of the guys and the tangled sheets. “Last one in the shower gets cold water,” she called, rushing into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, they were all washed and soaped and sexed out—or at least she was, since Matt had insisted on “giving her one for the road” in the shower. Neither of them listened to her, and she was beyond grateful. At least when that not listening led to feeling so damn amazing afterward. She grinned and stacked the boxes and bags in front of her on the bed. Her sexy boys were sprawled out on either side, one eating chips, the other waiting expectantly for her to open her presents. The weekend had been perfect so far, and there was still more to come. Yeah, so she was kidding herself. This wasn’t her reality. But right now she couldn’t help pretending. How could she? She’d never felt like this before. Thinking about trading it all in for the life she’d had two weeks ago made her want to cry. Not that it had been bad. She’d been happy, all things considered. But it wasn’t this. “Hurry up,” Tristan said. “There’s a lot there.” She grabbed the candy-cane-covered bag at her knee, setting aside the actual wrapped candy cane that dangled from the handle. “Who wrapped this for you?” she asked Matt, seeing his name on the tag. “It’s not wrapped technically. Just tissue paper and stuff.” “Who did it?” He threw a handful of chips in his mouth and grinned. “Maybe the cute girl at the store where I bought it.” As many times as she’d heard him—both of them—talk about cute girls, now it took on a whole new meaning. “Which store?” What cute girl? Whose eyes do I need to scratch out? “Lorriman’s,” he said as she dug out the rectangular navy blue box and saw the gold foil lettering for herself. “Lorriman’s? What could you possibly have gotten there?” She pried off the lid and gasped. Arranged on a swatch of silky navy blue sat the dangling sapphire-and-diamond earrings she’d coveted from the shop window when she and Matt had gone to a movie last month. “Are you crazy?” “Now there’s gratitude talking.” Matt bumped her with his knee, but she didn’t laugh. “Do you know how much these cost?” “Yep, since I signed for them.” “You’re nuts. I can’t accept these.” She closed the box and set it aside, though she was already envisioning them on her ears. Maybe with that long black off-the-shoulder dress that— No. She would not accept such an outrageously expensive gift from a man who wasn’t her boyfriend. It wasn’t proper. And doing what you just did with them in this bed was? Wearing a pearl everything when you did the walk of shame into the shower? She frowned and pushed the box a little farther away.

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“There’s no expectation tied to them, you know,” he said, still munching chips. “I bought them before you walked in on me and Tris, by the way.” “You did not.” “I did so.” “But you’re cheap,” she tossed back, glaring at him while he ate his snack as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned. “Which is why I can afford them.” Matt bumped her again. “Put them on. And I promise, if you keep them, the only thing I’ll expect is maybe a couple more blowjobs. But only because you’re really good at them.” The laughter bubbled out of her throat. “You’re such a pig.” Tristan reached for another, bigger box and laid it on her lap. “Once you open mine, you can model both for us.” She shot him a panicked glance. God, what was next? Suddenly opening her gifts wasn’t as much fun as it usually was. Not when she didn’t think she’d be able to reciprocate in the way they expected her to. She tore off the bright green-and-red-striped paper on Tristan’s present and opened the box. Inside was a luxurious robe, long and fluffy and lined in something thick and plush that felt like a bearskin rug and probably hadn’t cost much less. “Tristan,” she said softly, overcome for the second time. “Yours is all ratty.” He shrugged and rearranged the robe until she could see the monogrammed initials over the breast. “CB?” Catching on, she grinned. “Oh man.” “Monogramming was free.” He shrugged again, smiling faintly. “This is just too much.” “See, this is a perfect example.” Matt crunched into his chips loudly behind them. “When I give her a gift, she starts ranting. You give her a gift, and it’s cooing and wet panties.” She turned her grin on Matt. “I didn’t coo. And my panties aren’t on, so therefore they’re not wet.” Which was kind of remarkable, now that she thought of it. The three of them were sitting around completely in the buff as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and they’d only been lovers for a little more than twenty-four hours. And friends for a lifetime before that. Or at least it felt that way. “You can give him my earned blowjobs so he feels better,” Tristan said in a somber voice. “Keep it up and you’ll be blowing each other.” “Some threat,” Matt said, his reward a thwap very close to his most prized possession. “Now that’s a threat.” “Open the rest,” Tristan said, urging another bag on her. By the time she’d opened the other bags and boxes, the pressure building behind her eyes had turned into a genuine ache. They’d given her clothes and books and a couple of her favorite movies. Each one had been chosen specifically for her. They weren’t generic things, but thoughtful, sweet gifts that made her chest burn with regret. “What happened to certificates for

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the pizza joint and handwritten coupons for back rubs?” she said quietly, running her finger through the handle loop of the replacement cartoon coyote mug Tristan had rush ordered for her. “Hey, my gifts were never that lame,” Tristan protested. “No, they weren’t. When you remembered to buy me something and didn’t just spring for an extravagant meal instead.” Instead of arguing, all three fell silent. And it didn’t take a genius to discern that their thoughts were probably running in similar circles. “Maybe we finally figured out we couldn’t keep dicking around forever. Ever think of that?” Matt asked, sitting up next to her. He grabbed the box of earrings and held it out. “Put them on. Please.” Please from Matt was a plea of the highest order. She couldn’t say no. With fumbling fingers, she withdrew the earrings and slipped them on, their subtle weight on her ears pulling at her heart. Especially when Matt gathered her hair in his hands and lifted it to place a kiss on the back of her exposed neck. “Beautiful. They match your eyes. They were meant for you.” That she didn’t cry would rank up there with the biggest victories of her life. “Matt,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t.” “You should. You don’t want me to go back to talk to that cute salesgirl again, do you?” If she was being fair to him, that wouldn’t matter. None of this would. He was just on loan to her for this weekend until the fairy tale ended. “No.” She turned and met his mouth fiercely with her own. Right now he belonged to her. And right now was all she could focus on unless she wanted to drown them both in her tears. “Thank you.” “My turn.” Tristan nudged the robe at her. She shrugged it on and pulled the soft, plush material around her with a purr of contentment. “Oh, God. This feels better than…” Noticing both guys were studying her intently, she grinned. “My old robe.” “Nice save.” Tristan started to pat her knee, but she grabbed his hand and brought it to her racing heart. “Thank you. I love it.” He stuck out his lips and made her giggle. She leaned in and kissed him, sighing a little as she pulled away. “Time for more cake,” Matt announced, climbing off the bed. Then he turned back with a lewd smile. “Wonder how it would taste from a different kind of dish?” “Now that idea has possibilities,” Tristan said, rising. She couldn’t stop the tingle that swept through her any more than she could resist their smiles. “I like mine on a stick, actually,” she said, darting past them out the door to the sounds of their laughter.

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Chapter Ten Cait woke snuggled between them. Warm, comfortable, more content than she’d ever been, the advancing light of dawn seemed the cruelest joke of all. They’d never gone on their date. And they’d only spent one full day together and part of another. Not enough time. Not nearly enough. But now it was over. She knew she couldn’t ask for more, that extending their weekend would only make it that much harder to separate later on. She had to focus on what was most important now, mainly all the work waiting for her back at the office. There was so much to do, and she’d had her fun. Now she had to concentrate on— “Happy birthday, Caity,” Tristan whispered against her cheek, drawing her more tightly into his reassuring embrace. “Love you.” She didn’t open her eyes, pretending for just a moment that this was reality. Instead of one boyfriend, she had two. One warming her front, the other her back, both of them giving her love and laughter and offering her the kind of security she’d long ago given up on ever having. She could have everything she’d ever dreamed and more. All she had to do was tell them how much she loved them too, how much she ached for them to be a family for real. She didn’t want to go back to her single bed, and she definitely didn’t want them to go back to theirs. Did it really matter what people would say? They already lived together. It was no one’s business but theirs. Dear God, she was already trembling. “I…” She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, staring directly into Tristan’s. Unprepared for the acceptance she saw there, she fisted her hand in the sheets and started to back away. “I need to…use the bathroom.” But backing away only made her collide with Matt’s solid form. “Hey, hey,” he said, yawning. “It's barely morning.” Panic left no room for concerns about dignity. She scrambled up, crawling over Matt and nearly pitching to the floor when she caught her foot in the sheet. She stumbled forward anyway, finally getting free. She rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door, but not before she heard Tristan’s comment. “Guess that answers that.” She leaned against the door, her lungs quaking as if she’d run a mile. She was a coward. A fool. Only both would consider leaving the two gorgeous men in that bed because they were worried about public opinion. Who the fuck cared?

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No matter what, people talked. Even if she lived like a nun, they would still say what they wanted. And she would be miserable. Was living a life free of reproach worth losing everything that meant something to her? Sure, why not. Your mom blazed one hell of an example. Why not finish the job? It wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t. Besides, this weekend had given her a chance to see the choices a woman—hell, a person—would make when confronted with the possibility of risking everything for love. She sure didn’t feel smug now. She understood too well what she would do to hold on to even a chance of being with the men she adored. She turned her head and saw Matt’s jeans crumpled on the floor. And the cell phone peeking out of the back pocket. Before she could talk herself out of it, she knelt and grabbed his phone. She scrolled through his address book, knowing he’d have the number she needed. There it was. All she had to do was call. She bit her lip as the phone rang and rang. It was early, but that couldn’t be helped. When the woman’s voice came on the line, relief rushed over Cait in a thick wave. “Mom? I need to move home for a while.”

**** The drive back to the loft was hell. She hadn’t expected anything else, especially once she’d shared her little bombshell. God, the look on Tristan’s face when she’d said she was leaving… She’d wanted to snatch the words back, to beg him to forget she’d ever had such a crazy idea. But she couldn’t take the words back. Nor could she pretend slipping back into their usual roles worked for her. How could she have ever believed she could sleep with them and then go back to her regular life? Every moment she was near them, she wanted them. Sleeping with them had only shown her what she’d been missing. She’d expected Matt to argue with her, but he just nodded, saying maybe that was best for the time being. His mother was going to be staying with them until after the new year, and then once she’d gone home, they could all talk. Talk. There weren’t any words to convey the sound of her heart breaking. Tristan had just looked at them both as if they were strangers and gone out to load their bags into the car. Clearly, he was through arguing. Just because Tristan refused to deal with how things were didn’t change that they all had families to consider. It wasn’t as if they could simply follow their own needs and to hell with everyone else. What did he expect them to do? Share Tristan’s king-size bed while Matt’s mom slept in the room next door? Cripes, he probably did. Was he really that naive? Or was he the smartest one of them? The hand on her knee jolted her from her distracted reverie. She glanced at Matt, who sat beside her in the backseat. Tristan was driving Matt’s SUV, and their bags were stowed on the passenger seat. Tristan had rented a car to come up to the cabin since his own was in the shop, so they’d returned it to the lone rental dealership on the mountain, and he’d taken over the task of

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driving. That left Matt to sit with her in the back, though he’d done little more than brood since they’d started the trip. None of them were behaving typically. Normally the biggest truth seeker of the three of them, she had become the biggest liar. And the biggest fake. Cait looked from Matt’s golden hand on her leg to his face. What she saw there made her heart tumble. “We’re not home yet,” he murmured, nudging her knees open. Her blood thickened in her veins. No. She couldn’t. If he touched her again, she’d shatter. She’d plead with them to forgive her and ask their understanding for all her screwed-up thoughts. She’d believed she’d moved so far beyond the young, confused girl who’d wanted so badly to blend in with the crowd, but she hadn’t. She was nothing but a traitor because when she’d made the biggest mistake ever, what had she done? Run home to her mommy, a woman she’d done nothing but malign for most of her adult life. “Matt,” she breathed, lacking the strength to tell him to back off. That was another of her problems. She’d thought she was strong? She was nothing but a shivery mess in their hands. Just one look from hot brown eyes in Matt’s case—or green in Tristan’s—and she was willing to do anything they wished. “Lift up your skirt,” he commanded, already kneeling. “Open up for me.” She saw Tristan’s gaze flick up to the rearview before his jaw firmed and he returned his attention to the road. Apparently he had no interest in playing voyeur. Arguing seemed stupid. Not when she wanted desperately to know Matt’s mouth one more time. She spread her thighs and peeled her panties aside, pressing her lips together as she realized how the fabric clung. Just his demand made her wet. Just knowing he’d bend his head to her pussy and lick her until she forgot she was supposed to not want this made her piston her hips, driving herself up toward his waiting mouth. He didn’t give her time to regret her impulse. He dove in deep, swirling his tongue over her swollen labia again and again, gripping her thighs to bring her closer while he ravished her with every ounce of passion she’d come to expect from him. From them both. His lips sealed around her clit, and he sucked hard while he slid a finger inside her, then two, building her orgasm so fast she couldn’t fight to hold on. Her legs shook, the need rising from so far down inside her she was afraid she’d scream when he brought her to the inevitable conclusion. There was no staving it off, the scream erupting inside her or the climax speeding through her system like a bullet train, taking down everything in its path. Her fears, her reservations, her denials. She could only drive her fingers through his hair and drag him against her, mashing her cunt to his masterful lips without shame. He eased back after he soothed her quivering flesh with sensuous openmouthed kisses she knew she’d crave for the rest of her life. He lifted his gaze to hers as he licked his lips, drawing out the moment. Strengthening her need. She gulped in air, summoning her control. She couldn’t fling promises at them she knew she’d never be able to keep. It was just sex. They were good at it, and she was a novice. Once she found a way to sate this suddenly uncontrollable desire inside her, she’d be fine. Wordlessly, Matt pressed his mouth to her knee, a sweetly chaste kiss. And her eyes filled with tears that scalded her skin as much as the release still coating her inner thighs.

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“Almost there,” Tristan said in a wooden tone unlike any she’d heard from him before. “Might want to belt in before we hit the city limits. Lots of cops out this way.” Matt clambered back onto the seat beside her and grabbed her hand, squeezing it once. Then he fastened his seat belt and turned his face toward the window. Almost there were the coldest words she’d ever heard.

**** “Abe’s not happy with the campaign.” Four o’clock on Christmas Eve, and her boss was standing next to her desk, glowering as only Tristan could glower. At least he was speaking. He hadn’t done much of that since they’d returned on Sunday. Though from the expression on his rigid face, at any moment he’d start throwing punches. Cait reached for her water glass and sipped, making sure her face betrayed nothing when she looked up at him again. “I did as he asked. You requested spec designs, I gave you spec designs. I’ve spent all day doing two completely different full-page ads.” “He’s not happy with them. Since he’s our most lucrative customer, we need to give him what he wants. Do you have any clue how much money he’s bringing into this firm?” “No.” She tugged on her hair and then threw it over her shoulder. “I’m just the dumb office blonde. What do I know?” Matt choked back a laugh from his computer, but he averted his gaze when she looked his way. So much for enjoying the freaking holiday. Snow swirled around outside, making the world into a Christmas postcard. Other people were home with their families. But they weren’t. Oh no. Matt’s mom was out doing some last-minute shopping at the mall, and when she returned, they’d be visiting a relative in nearby Stockton. Tristan’s parents were having dinner at seven, and she’d overheard him snapping at them on the phone that he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to make it. As for her, her mother and sisters were doing their annual chip-and-dip party. There would be drinking and carols and tons of delicious bad-for-you food. She never drank at the party, but she had a feeling she’d be drinking tonight. Heavily. “Since you’re so smart, you know what losing this account would mean to us. How much of our budget hinges on pleasing a customer we’ve always managed to please in the past.” Cait stabbed the Enter key and deleted half of the collage she’d been working on. She apparently couldn’t design anymore, so why bother? “I’ve been doing my best, Tristan. Who else do you think would work on fucking Christmas Eve but me? I’m not your fucking slave.” “Think you can get any more fuckings in there, Cait?” Matt asked, sipping loudly on his takeout cup of soda when she would’ve hissed at him. “You have a problem with the working conditions here?” Tristan ground out, shoving her mouse pad until her mouse clattered against the keyboard. “Then you know where the door is. Run through it, why don’t you? Just like you ran out of the loft.” She stared at him, shocked he’d voiced the elephant that had thundered through every room they’d been in together since the weekend. This wasn’t only about work, and she knew it.

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How dare he act as if she wasn’t hurting too? As if she hadn’t spent the last five days in a fog, trying to do her job when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. “You want me to leave?” she asked, rising slowly from her chair. “Is that what you want? Because I’ll call your bluff. I don’t need this.” “Tris, Cait, ease off.” Matt rose and came to stand between them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “We’re all exhausted. It’s Christmas,” he added quietly. “Not the day for this.” Tristan turned away and shoved a hand through his hair on his way back to his desk. “Go home,” he said gruffly. “Both of you.” “I am home,” Matt reminded him, slipping his hands into his pockets. He’d finally gotten his hair trimmed the day before in the severe military cut he favored when he wasn’t being lazy. Probably a good thing because their trade wasn’t ever going to happen. Hell, she might as well go for that Brazilian at her salon. It would be the closest thing she’d be getting to sexual activity for a very long time. “Then go meet your mom at the mall. I’ll handle this.” Matt glanced back and forth between them and shrugged as he went to collect his jacket. “Coming, Cait?” She swallowed the bitterness on the back of her tongue as she dropped back down into her chair. “I have work to do.” He shook his head and zipped up. “Fine, suit yourself. I’ll go meet my mom at the mall. Can I trust you two to play civilly when I’m not around to supervise?” “Get out of here,” Tris said without looking up from his computer. “Merry fucking Christmas.” Matt laughed and swung by Cait’s desk on his way to the door. He bent down to kiss the top of her head as he had a million other times. She’d never stiffened before. She also hadn’t caught her breath and tensed her fingers on her mouse and wondered if he could somehow sense how her nipples hardened from the simple brush of his lips over her scalp. “Merry, merry, short stuff,” he murmured. “See you tomorrow.” “Have a nice Christmas,” she said evenly. “Come over whenever.” When he’d gone, she turned on the small clock radio on her desk. They’d have some Christmas cheer in here if it killed her. “I said you could go, Caity.” She ignored Tristan and the hot pokers of need jabbing her body. She hadn’t been alone with either guy since the weekend. Five short days ago that seemed like a lifetime. She’d only just turned twenty-five and already felt as if she were closing on fifty. “I’m not leaving you here,” she said when she was sure she could control her voice. “If you’re working, I’m working.” Without waiting for his approval, she went back to her collage. She could do this. The feel was fun, spring, carefree. Sexy, playful. Even if she’d never felt less like any of those things, she would make him proud of her. Not Abe. She didn’t care about his opinion. Well, she did, but obviously not the way she cared about Tristan’s. She hated to see disapproval in his eyes, ever. So she’d just have to damn well make this work.

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Four bleary hours later, she shoved away from her keyboard and held a hand to her growling stomach. She hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, eight long hours ago. Tristan was still hunched over his desk. He’d scarcely moved in the last four hours, but he wasn’t sleeping. His shrewd green eyes were trained on his screen, and he tapped the keys at a steady pace. “Come see what I have,” she said, fighting a yawn. “You come see what I have,” he countered, swiveling in his chair to face her. She came over to his desk and leaned in. The colors were vibrant and kick-ass, the models beautiful, young, and fresh. Abe Donnelly would be scrambling to shell out his money for this ad campaign, no doubt about it. “Holy shit, Tristan. How’d you come up with this?” “The possibility of losing an account always spurs me to greater heights.” With a shrug, he rose and went over to her computer. “Besides—” He broke off, his gaze glued to her screen. “Caity, this is incredible. This is just what he wanted. I know it.” In spite of her hunger, fatigue, and general misery, she grinned and gripped her elbows. “You really like it?” “Not like, love. It’s perfect.” “I love yours too.” He returned to her side. “So which one do we send him?” “Both. Abe won’t know what hit him.” He was already prying his cell phone out of the jacket he’d tossed over the back of his chair. Even when it was just the three of them in the office, he always dressed the part of the successful young exec, though he usually bypassed the tie in favor of just a crisp shirt. But that crispness had been lost through the long day and night, and he’d rolled up the sleeves to bare his sinewy forearms. Realizing she was studying the pattern of dark hair curling under his watch, she forced her gaze away as he talked to Abe. He sounded a lot less glum than the last time he’d spoken to him, even ending the call with a cheerful, “Merry Christmas!” He pocketed his phone and grinned, then leaned forward to tap a few keys. “He’s waiting by his e-mail,” he said, pulling up his own e-mail program and attaching the files. “So much for Christmas,” she murmured, ignoring her urge to rush back to her desk. The need to put some distance between them was high, but she didn’t want to be cowed. They worked together. She’d have to learn to deal with her feelings for him somehow. “Christmas Shmistmas. Making green’s much more fun.” He stepped back and extended a hand to her. As if he wanted to shake. She glanced down at his outstretched palm, then up at his face, noting that for the first time in days his tension had drained away. Tentatively, she laid her hand in his. “Good job, partner.” “Thanks.” She smiled. See, this wasn’t so hard, even if his hand was warm and ridged and made her feel as delicate as a china doll. “You too.” “So,” he said, still not releasing her as his gaze probed hers. “You heading home?” She should. She’d promised her mom she wouldn’t be too late, and she’d already missed most of the evening. “No,” she heard herself say. “What about you?”

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He shook his head. “Can’t deal with the family tonight. They’ll be…” He shut his eyes and shook his head. “My mom’s been thinking about Connie a lot this week. I just can’t handle it right now. I’ll go over tomorrow.” She nodded and curled her fingers into his palm. “Next week is the anniversary.” “Yes.” “Eight years. I can’t believe it.” “Me either. Seems like yesterday.” He sighed. “Seems like a lifetime.” He linked their fingers and drew her against him, into the shelter of his arms where she belonged. “I’ve missed you,” he said, nuzzling her hair. His spicy sandalwood cologne filled her airspace. His heart beat strong under her cheek, and she breathed him in with every ragged breath. “It’s only been a few days.” “Seems like a lifetime,” he echoed as she closed her eyes. How could something that felt so right be so wrong? “Are you hungry?” he asked a few minutes later, his voice wavering. Was he trying to hold himself back from touching her? Did he have any clue how tightly she was strung, trying to keep from touching him? “I could eat. Are you? Hungry?” “Yeah. Think any place is open on Christmas Eve?” “Dunno.” She took a careful step back and smiled up at him, grateful they’d reached some sort of détente that didn’t involve nudity. “We could find out.” An hour later, they’d spread out their feast on the table in the little kitchenette where they’d eaten so many meals over the years. It was also the same place she and Matt had argued— and sexed—two weeks ago. Time didn’t seem to move at the same speed as it once had. Yesterday felt like forever and tomorrow didn’t hold much weight at all. Not when the forest green eyes she loved so much stayed steady on hers and they had a plate of extra-hot chicken wings and a steaming mushroom and pepperoni pizza between them. They polished off half of both, though Tristan ate more than she did. Not by much. She’d been starving, and everything tasted wonderful. “You have some stomach, Sachs,” he said with a grin, wiping his mouth with a napkin, then tossing it aside. In the light from the stubby candle he’d unearthed, he looked even sexier than usual, shadows dancing over his chiseled jaw and firm lips. “Always love watching you pack it away.” “We didn’t have much lunch.” “You haven’t eaten much in days,” he said, picking up his longneck beer. He’d cracked open one for both of them, saving the two beers they had left for their “ceremonial toast at midnight,” as he’d called it. What they were toasting, she didn’t know. All she hoped was that she’d greet Christmas morning with her clothes on. The more time she spent in his company, especially since he was back to acting like the man she knew and loved, the less likely that possibility became. “We’ve been so busy,” she said noncommittally, peeling off a slice of pepperoni and shoving it in her mouth.

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“Not that busy.” He leaned back in his chair and toyed with the label on his bottle. “You haven’t reconsidered.” She wanted to say she had. What wouldn’t she do to keep him looking so relaxed? Her own muscles were more loose than they’d been in days, and it wasn’t due to the beer. Living with that much tension wasn’t good for anyone. The worst of it was that she missed him and Matt. Missed the woman she became when she was in their arms. She was so tired of worrying all the time, always trying to measure up to some invisible standard. With them she could just be herself. They made her happy. Wasn’t that all that really mattered? So what if they had a nontraditional situation. They weren’t hurting anyone, and love could never be anything but beautiful. People were going to say things regardless. Hell, some people already did because she lived with two guys. Why not really give them something to talk about? She wet her lips, half tempted to just say to hell with it and put it all on the table. Yes, I’ll give us a try. I want you and Matt. I want all of it. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Only an idiot would turn away from love and passion to stay alone in her empty bed at night with her supposed morals and her judgments. She wasn’t an idiot. But the words refused to come. “Okay,” he said when she didn’t answer, rising to clear away the paper plates. She rose to help him clean up, that unnerving tension building again as they wrapped up the pizza and wings for Matt. He’d bitch that they’d ordered hot wings, knowing he hated them, but that was half the fun. Together they straightened up the kitchen. When they were finished, he drank the last of his beer and stood rolling the bottle between his palms. “Guess I’ll go to bed,” he said finally, setting his presumably empty bottle on the counter. “Yeah. It’s late,” she said, though it wasn’t even ten yet. They hadn’t made their toast. But maybe forced distance would be good, although a thin wall wouldn’t exactly separate them much. “It is. I’m tired.” “Me too.” She yawned and reached for her own beer, intending to put it in the fridge. But he grabbed the bottle before she could. “Hey, that’s mine,” she said. He held it against his chest with a gleam in his eyes she recognized too well. “Come and get it.”

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Chapter Eleven She shouldn’t. She had to. Cait’s pulse spiked as she closed the distance between them. She kept her eyes on Tristan’s, letting him know she was all too aware she was walking into the lion’s den. But whether she was the lion or the prey, she still wasn’t sure. She circled her fingers around the bottle he held, her gaze landing on his mouth. It remained there as he moved down and swept his hand into her hair, dragging her head back so he could lay claim to her lips. Their mouths enmeshed, his tongue driving hers back in a sensual battle she was all too happy to lose. The bottle clattered to the floor and rolled away. It could have broken and glass shards embedded in her bare feet for all she cared. He hauled her up in his arms and carried her upstairs as if she weighed nothing. She pressed her face into his neck and hung on. She didn’t know if he’d go to her bedroom or his, but when she lifted her head, she saw he’d chosen his. Of course. He had the big bed, the amazing sound system, the gorgeously expensive bedroom set, and oh my God. She stared upward in stunned shock when he dropped her on his California king, her butt still bouncing on the ultrafirm mattress. “You have a mirror above the bed,” she whispered. But not just a mirror. It was shaped like a sun, each ray a sliver of glass surrounding a center circle. It wasn’t as classless as the usual ceiling special. Of course not. Even Tristan’s implements of sexual pleasure were artfully sensuous. Color her not surprised. Tristan didn’t reply to her comment. He was too busy undoing buttons and then drawing his shirttails out of his pants. Baring the incredible chest that made her want to lick him from the strong line of his shoulders to his equally noteworthy cock. Breathing hard, stunned into inaction, she watched him disrobe, her fingers twitching where they lay uselessly at her sides. Once he’d stripped, he crawled into bed with her and pulled her close. He made no move to remove her clothes as they kissed, his fingers stroking her back, her arms, her ass. Everywhere he touched, she burned. She couldn’t even return the favor. She was too overwhelmed by the sensations he aroused in her. He wrecked her world with dizzying, slow kisses, the complete opposite of what he’d given her downstairs. By the time his hand crept under her top, she was panting and so wet she would’ve sworn her arousal had to be trickling down her legs. Her nipples ached, and the pain only increased when he slipped her breast free from her bra and lowered his head to nibble the tight tip. His tongue lashed her after every bite, but it wasn’t soothing. He meant to drive her crazy, and he succeeded.

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Desperate to feel his skin against hers, she jerked up and tugged off her shirt. Her bra came off next, followed by her jeans and her panties. She was yanking the bikinis off her ankles when she happened to glance up again, catching a glimpse of her flushed face and rosy nipples in the mirror. A cry escaped her, one Tristan absorbed with his mouth as he ranged his body over hers, pushing her hips down into the mattress. His erection branded her belly, teasing her with the weight of everything he could do to her. And she wanted everything. Wanted him more than her next breath. There wasn’t time to think as his mouth raced over her body. He seemed to be everywhere at once. His hands cradled her breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples, lips grazing her trembling belly, coasting over her ribs, caressing her hips, then finally landing at the edge of her pussy, his tongue dipping down to scoop out her abundant wetness. When he licked her, she bolted upward, held only in place by his stranglehold on her breasts. He yanked her feet over his shoulders and spread her wide open, sucking, biting, eating her out so thoroughly she had to close her eyes against the kaleidoscope of color exploding in her vision. She cried out again and again, but whether she pleaded for him to stop or begged for more, she didn’t know. By the time she came, she was shuddering like an addict, spasms radiating from her sex throughout her entire system. But as good as it was, she needed more. He was the only thing that could take away the emptiness she carried, the only one who could fill that hollow place inside her that belonged just to him. He lifted his head, his gaze connecting with hers as they both caught their breath. Guilt slammed into her, followed swiftly by love. Hurting him was like cutting herself open. How could she keep doing that? And for what? How could she turn away from this? Without speaking, she reached down to cup his face in her palm. He understood what she wanted and moved up her body before reaching in the nightstand for a foil packet. Once he’d pulled on the latex, she brought her knees up close to her chest and hooked her ankles around his neck. “You’re learning,” he murmured, trailing his fingertip over her lower lip before he nipped her flesh, distracting her as he glided inside and made her his all over again. God, sex was amazing. As stupid as it was, his scent floating over her, his hands on her skin, his kisses, his heat…they were all wispy dreams. But this was when the dream became reality, when hard flesh met soft and somehow became the same. She tried to memorize all of it. Their bodies rising and falling as one, breath tripping, heartbeats melding into one endless throb. He whispered her name every time he pressed deeper, grinding against her clit until she couldn’t even gasp his. All the oxygen in her lungs had to be used to prolong the pleasure enveloping her with his every thrust. Slowly, so slowly, the friction grew, each squeeze of her inner muscles pulling a groan from him and a soft cry from her. She swiveled her hips, testing to see what they both liked. Her orgasm had taken some of the edge off, and she wanted to make their lovemaking last as long as possible. In case this is the last time you’re with him like this? Cait closed her eyes to fight the thoughts trying to invade her mind. For once she was just going to let go and enjoy. Before long her tentative explorations led to his ragged moan. He changed the angle, using one hand to guide her legs closer together. “Perfect,” he whispered. “You feel so fucking

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perfect.” Desperate to see him, she opened her eyes again, only to catch him smiling down at her as if she’d hung the moon and all the stars too. “Love doing this with you,” he said, his voice reverent. The dryness of her throat made speech impossible, so she slid her hands up his arms and gripped his biceps as their mouths met. Luckily he didn’t seem to expect a response. Of course she loved doing this with him. Loved him, period. Other than Matt, she’d never loved another man. Never would. She drew her knees as close to her chest as possible, heaving out a breath as her hard nipples rubbed against her skin. He reached up and flicked the hard tips, his gaze caressing hers with the same intensity as his cock plunged into her pussy. God, she was so wet. She’d been wet for him for years. If she hadn’t been so good at living in denial, she would’ve had to face up to that a long time ago. “Oh, Tristan.” The plea caused her cheeks to flood with heat. But she didn’t let it stop her. “I’m going to come,” she said, clenching her sex around his thick cock until he released a long, needy groan. “Come with me.” Even as a newbie to this whole game, she knew he was close. He sank deep, his balls tight and firm when they slapped her ass. His strokes quickened, becoming more frantic. Sweat dotted his brow, and his muscles bulged as he fisted his hands in the pillows beside her head. “Can’t. Have to…” He couldn’t seem to form words, and she loved that she destroyed his control. His body battered hers, his face tightening as he reached his peak before she did. He didn’t make a sound, but he shuddered so hard she was afraid he’d break in two. Then he was thrusting deeper, so deep she couldn’t restrain a cry as her inner walls contracted over and over again. The residual tremors from her climax had barely subsided when he shifted their positions, scooping her up and rolling over until she was on top of him. Still inside her, he flexed his semihard length, making her whimper. “See what you do to me?” He thumbed her hair out of her eyes. “One orgasm isn’t nearly enough.” She grinned. “For me either. Multiples always seem to work best when you and Matt are around.” He rubbed her damp arm, not meeting her eyes. “Move back in, Caity. It’s not the same without you.” She waited until she could be certain her voice wouldn’t shake. “Technically I never really left. I just slept over at my mom’s since Sunday. All my stuff’s still here.” “All your stuff isn’t you.” “No.” She laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes. “What if I asked you to choose me over Matt?” His hand stilled. “You couldn’t, could you?” she asked quietly, understanding completely. “No. Just like you can’t choose me over him.” “We’ve always been a trio.”

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“Glad you’re finally acknowledging that, Caity Bait.” Somehow his using that nickname when they were naked in his bed added a layer of the forbidden to what had always been a fond, if somewhat embarrassing, memory. With a long sigh, she wiggled away until he slid out of her body. Once he’d disposed of the condom, he returned, snuggling her into his tight embrace. “You’re really not worried what anyone will say, are you?” she asked, drawing patterns on his shoulder with the edge of her fingernail. “About us? No. I think most people will be jealous.” She snorted at that. “Most people will think we’re immoral.” “Those people aren’t us.” Tristan tipped her chin until their gazes were level. “Want to run away? Start over someplace new? That way we wouldn’t run into people we know every day. Eventually we could come out to our families, on our own timetable.” Come out. She wet her lips. He made it all sound so easy. “We have a business here. A very successful one.” “Ask me which is more important to me.” The expression he wore answered the question so succinctly she didn’t bother. “Tell me this,” he said after a moment. “If you weren’t worried what people would say, your family in particular, would you give us a try? All three of us?” “Yes.” She didn’t even have to consider the question. And God, wasn’t that scary. “I would. But the idea of telling my mom I’m in a committed threesome when I’ve been nothing but a bitch to her and the girls for years…” She couldn’t stop the shudder. “Your problem isn’t us. It’s that you feel guilty for how you’ve treated them. And you probably should.” She stared at him, but he didn’t avert his eyes. Finally she nodded. “If I apologize now, they’ll know something’s up.” Tristan chuckled softly. “Yep, we all pretty much know if you’re apologizing, you have to have done something way worse.” Cait punched him lightly in the arm. “So not true.” All at once, last Friday night at the cabin and Val’s phone call came back to her. She’d forgotten all about it in the chaos of the past week. Instead of making an effort to talk to Val while Cait had been staying at their mom’s, she’d been too focused on her own problems. As usual. “Shit.” His brows knitted together. “What’s the matter?” She hesitated, then decided to say the rest of what was on her mind. More than anything, she missed not having him as a confidant. Though she normally told her secrets to Matt, she’d always known she could share them with Tristan too. She usually didn’t, because he tended to always be busy with work. But there was another reason. She couldn’t stand for Tristan to see her as the horrible person she knew she was. With Matt, being her real, unvarnished self had always seemed easier, probably because she hadn’t cared as much about preserving his good opinion of her. But the past couple of weeks had shown Tris exactly what she was made of.

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And what she wasn’t. She let out a breath. “Something is going on with Val,” she murmured, running her fingers through his chest hair. “She won’t talk about it.” “Well, she’s fourteen. Kind of goes with the territory.” “I’m just so afraid it’s a boy. What if she screws up her life over some crush that would’ve died out if she hadn’t pushed too hard too fast?” “Sounds like you’re talking from experience,” he said lightly. She blushed, but not for the reason he probably thought. “Can’t qualify what I had for you as a crush. Or Matt for that matter.” “Me either.” He wound a lock of her hair around his finger. “Why do you think it’s a boy with Val?” “I don’t know. Prior experience. I know the signs. The secretiveness, having trouble in school—” “She could be on drugs.” “My baby sister is not on drugs.” “Maybe she’s in a gang.” “Funny. She’s the most nonviolent kid ever. Won’t even kill mosquitoes.” “All right, suppose she’s a lesbian.” Cait’s fingers stilled. “Why would you say that?” “Hmm. The only one you didn’t argue with.” Tristan smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Could be I’m overly sensitive to it, considering the year I’ve had.” “Overly sensitive to what?” “How a person changes when they start questioning their sexuality.” “You’re not gay,” she said quickly, then felt like an idiot when he grinned. Maybe not, but he was bisexual. She’d seen and heard him have sex with Matt, for heaven’s sake. Besides, she’d accused Matt of the very same thing the night she’d discovered they were lovers. But that was before. Though logically she knew gay was just a term, as lesbian was, it seemed like such a cold, flat designation for the men she loved. They couldn’t be labeled and stuck into boxes. No one should be. “Technically I’m bi, as evidenced by the fact I can’t keep my hands off you.” He stroked her hair as if she were his most priceless possession. Her inner feminist might’ve squawked at that, but it was hard to stand—or lie—on ceremony when you were as sated and happy as she was. So happy. “I've never thought of another woman that way,” she said thoughtfully. “Well, I’d never thought of another guy till Matt. The thing people forget is you fall in love with whomever you’re meant to. It’s not always about their sex, but who they are.” “But Val—” “Val’s a young girl. I’m not saying she’s a lesbian, Caity. I’d never make that supposition about someone. But she could be. Who’s to say what’s going on with her?”

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“It’s because she plays sports, isn't it?” Cait stared hard at the beige bedspread. “You’re going with the stereotype.” “No,” he said quietly. “I’m going with what I saw last week when I stopped by your place to drop off Connie’s old crib.” “Connie’s crib? Your mom’s parting with that?” Easier to jump on that than to question what Tristan had seen. “It was time. I told her Marnie could use a sturdy one. Better to put it to good use than to have it sitting around in a dusty closet.” “But what if you need it someday?” When he arched a brow at her, she wanted to chew her tongue off. Sure, right. Bring up kids when you’re in the mother of all fucked-up situations. “Not thinking about kids yet.” He touched her cheekbone. “Are you?” Her heart was beating so fast that she feared hyperventilation would be next. “No. Not yet. Too soon. Too—” “Too complicated.” She swallowed, nodding. “But maybe someday.” One corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’d be a good mother.” “Me?” “Yes, you. You’re great with kids. I’ve seen it.” “Knowing my luck, I’ll be the one infertile turtle in the bunch,” she said, causing him to laugh. “Infertility’s tough.” He cleared his throat. “But sometimes it’s better if people don’t have kids. Genetically. You know, because of my sister. CF’s carried in DNA.” “So you don’t want kids?” Why did that bother her? She wasn’t ready for a child, and they hadn’t discussed any of this. With Matt in the picture, the complications were enormous. Just how did someone—three someones—figure out something like that, anyway? And why was she thinking about it? They weren’t together. Weren’t family planning down the line. Weren’t any or all of the above. “More that it’s not really responsible for me to consider it. At least the way I view things. I understand why people take the risk, but if I didn’t have to…” “Why wouldn’t you have to?” All at once, she understood. “You’re saying me and Matt could…” “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He rubbed his thumbs along her cheekbones, keeping a tactile link between them while she processed her whirling thoughts. “They’d be mine just as much as if they were biological.” Rather than reply, she burrowed into his embrace, waiting until his arms tightened around her to ask what she didn’t want to know. Even hearing more about Val was better than talking about potential children she could potentially have with Matt if they all ended up together. “What did you see with Val?” “So that’s the end of that deep, insightful conversation. You and Matt are two peas, all right.” He let out a short laugh. “You know the playground next to your mom’s building.”

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“Yeah.” “Val was there. On the swings. But she wasn’t alone. There was another girl with her, and they were kissing.” He sucked in a sharp breath when she glared at him. “See, this is why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d flip.” “I’m not flipping. I’m just…concerned.” She bit her lip. “Could it have been an innocent kiss?” “No.” His answer was so definitive she wondered what else had happened. “There was touching too,” he said at length. “God!” She rolled off him and onto the bed, balling the sheets in her fists. “I don’t want her to have to deal with people judging her. Thinking she’s less than because she’s not the same.” Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I love her so much. How can I help her with this?” “By doing just that. Loving her. You can’t take her pain away or make different choices for her,” he said gently, turning on his side to cup her cheek. “But you can be there for her and let her know you’ll support her no matter what.” “I will. Of course I will. She’s just a kid. How can she be sure what she wants yet? But if she’s happier with women, I’m fine with that. Or I will be, once I get used to the idea.” “Want me to talk to her?” Cait’s eyes rounded. “No. Why? No.” “Breathe,” he suggested, caressing her collarbone. “It was just an idea.” “No, thanks. Don’t want to overwhelm her.” “Or you,” he said, smiling as he kissed her neck. “Since you look like you swallowed something bad.” “I’ll wait till she comes to me on her own. If she does. I hope she knows she can. Tomorrow. I’ll make sure to talk to her tomorrow…” She trailed off at the brush of his fingers through the silky curls shielding her pussy. With one touch, she was warm and wet again. He nudged her legs open and swirled his thumb over her clit. “Um, what were we talking about?” “Me making you come. Hard.” His voice took on a sensual edge. “I’m going to put my head between your thighs again. Except this time, I want you to do the same.” She blinked. “I’m not that flexible.” He laughed, the sound velvety smooth. “Your head between my legs, silly.” “Oh.” Then as realization dawned, she said it once more. “Oh. Sixty-nine.” “Mmm-hmm.” From the way he was trying not to smile, she had to figure she looked as clueless as she felt. Not that she didn’t know what sixty-nine was. Nowadays every kid had probably heard that term by junior high. Heck, she’d even done it. But something about Tristan made her feel like a virgin in every sense of the word. There were so many things he’d experienced she couldn’t even imagine. He had a mirror over the bed, for pity’s sake. She was pretty sure he hadn’t put it up there just to complement the room’s design. When he grinned, she grinned back. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” “Far from it. You’re perfect.” He lifted her chin and kissed her, his lips molding to hers as if they belonged there.

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The quick stutter in her heartbeat, she expected. The heat in her eyes when he slipped back, she didn’t. And this time, she wasn’t crying because she intended to let him go. She couldn’t. Even five days’ separation had opened up a vast hollow of pain inside her, one only he and Matt could fill. As hard and scary as it was to think of going for it, of really planning a life with them, she couldn’t spend any more time living on opposite sides of this divide. She’d tried to tell herself things would get better, that all they needed was time. Eventually they would be able to reclaim their previous friendship. But they couldn’t. She couldn’t look at Tristan and not want to be in his arms. She couldn’t laugh with Matt and not remember his dirty, sexy comments when they were in bed. The three of them fit, and pretending otherwise only made liars out of them all. If they went for the whole enchilada and people looked down on her, she’d deal. If her family freaked and called her a hypocrite, she’d handle it. What she couldn’t deal with was losing the two people who mattered most to her in the world just because she was afraid. “Tristan,” she whispered, forcing his name out over the lump in her throat. “What?” She fumbled for his hand and drew it up to her chest. “I’m really scared.” His eyes darkened, and he clenched his jaw. “Caity—” “No. No. You’re not getting it.” With effort, she managed to smile. “I want this. I want to be with you.” He stared at her, not smiling, barely breathing. “And Matt?” She nodded. “And Matt.” His Adam’s apple bobbed several times as if he couldn’t stop swallowing. Then he enfolded her in a bear hug, squeezing her so tightly her lungs compressed from lack of oxygen. “Oh, baby, you won’t regret it. I promise. We’re going to make you so happy you won’t ever wonder if you made the right choice.” He kissed her hungrily. “God, I love you.” She turned her face into his neck and let out a long breath. But as nervous as she was, she was excited too. “I love you too,” she said, curling her fingers over his speeding heart.

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Chapter Twelve Matt pulled off his jacket and dropped it on his desk chair, rolling his neck to get out the kinks. The quietness of the office surprised him. Though it was past midnight, he’d come in to find all the lights blazing downstairs and the smell of Manny’s pizza and blazing hot chicken wings—they never gave him a break—hanging in the air. His stomach growled, and he sighed as he headed into the kitchenette. Even hot wings would be better than the stringy casserole he’d had foisted on him at Aunt Edna’s. At least Edna had convinced his mom to spend the night, so he wouldn’t have to stand around wondering when the other shoe would drop and she’d discover her son and his roommates were no longer platonically living together. At the moment, no one could be more platonic than they were, but still. He frowned at the bottle of beer foaming across the floor. Maybe they’d had a reconciliation dinner and forgotten to clean up? Weird. His lovers weren’t neatniks, but this went beyond. A sound from upstairs caught his attention, and he stopped with his hand on the fridge. Female giggling. Either Tristan had a woman over or Cait had taken some happy pills. Shoving aside his hunger for the moment, he headed upstairs, his stomach strangely tight. If Cait was giggling, that had to be a good sign, right? He checked her section of the loft first and found it empty. But the giggling amplified, making him smile. He loved her laugh. So free and fun. It had been too long since he’d heard that sound. Slowly, he approached Tris’s rooms. He didn’t know what he’d find. Didn’t know what he even wanted to find. If they’d made up, he’d have to face something—someone—he really wasn’t ready to. Mainly his mother. Or he’d have to convince Tris to put a lid on his desire to confess to the world. Either way it was Christmas Eve, and he really didn’t want to deal with any of it tonight. “Shit.” The expletive exploded from him when he caught sight of the scene on Tristan’s bed. So much for a reconciliation dinner. Tris had made a feast out of something else entirely. Cait was lying with her butt flush to the headboard, her legs spread in a wide V against the wall. Tristan had his head between her legs and his dick in the giggling vixen’s mouth. They didn’t hear him, unshockingly, so he pulled a Cait and lingered in the doorway, watching openly as Tristan brought her to a toe-curling orgasm. Her pink nails dug into the sheetrock, heels arching, muscles trembling in her long, shapely thighs. She dragged her mouth off Tris’s cock long enough to breathe, turning her head toward the doorway. Her double take was almost comical. With Tristan’s powerful legs framing her smile, she stared at Matt and crooked a finger.

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Matt released a long breath. God, they were so sexy together, these crazy people he loved. He stepped forward, stopped. Took another step and stopped again. A journey of a thousand miles—or across the bedroom in this case—sometimes required a lot more to begin than a single step. It required him to man up. He ran a hand over his hair and closed his eyes. “Look, I’m happy you made up. I really am. But my mom’s in town, and I can’t just hop into bed with you both. Especially if it’s only a temporary, while-it-lasts thing. So if you two want to—” Hearing Tristan’s obvious sigh, he opened his eyes and absorbed his best friend’s patient grin. “Not while it lasts,” Cait whispered, drawing his attention. Tristan kissed Cait’s knee, his gaze lasered on Matt. “You in or out?” Such a simple question. Such a complicated answer. Matt dipped his hands in his pockets and fought to think with the part of him that wasn’t taut with need against the stiff material of his jeans. “You don’t really mean it,” he said, instead of addressing Tristan. “You’ll freak out and run home to mommy, and we’ll have to go through this again. I can’t do it, Cait. Dealing with him and you and my mom all at once is just too much.” Before he said anything more, he turned on his heel and walked down the connecting hall to his own set of rooms. He went straight into the bedroom and stripped off his shirt. His jeans and boxers took a little more work considering his massive hard-on, but he gritted his teeth and got it done. He’d just reached for the sleep pants he’d tossed on his pillow when soft footsteps crossed his hardwood living room floor. Even without looking, he knew it was Cait. “You hiding out in here?” she asked, padding inside his room. She sat on the edge of his bed directly in his line of sight. No avoiding her. At least she’d pulled on some clothes. Or what passed for them anyway. The cuffs of Tris’s shirt dangled off her hands, making her seem even more fragile. Yet the expression she wore was fierce. “Not hiding,” he said, pulling up the silky pants quickly in the hope of concealing his sizable erection. But from the smirk toying with her lips, she’d seen plenty. “I’m just not being sucked in again.” “So what if I suck?” She rose and sauntered over to him before kneeling at his feet. Her gaze remained on his as she pulled him free of his pajamas and swiftly drew the fat, dark red head of his cock between her lips. “Mmm. Looks like you enjoyed the show.” Smiling, she flicked her tongue around the rim and cleaned up the drops of precum that had escaped. Matt closed his eyes. God, she definitely wasn’t a virgin at giving BJs. Or anything else anymore. She dipped the tip of her tongue in the slit, sliding back and forth. She moaned around him when he fisted his hands in her hair, directing her to swallow more. To take all of him and use those talented throat muscles to push him over. She worked harder, her cheeks hollowing for maximum suction. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.” He growled and dragged her up and down his dick. She didn’t hold back, making delicious little slurping noises that shoved him closer to the end zone. Then she uttered a sound of approval, a purring hum, and he lost it.

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A red haze descended over his vision, and his balls cramped. Her mouth felt too damn good, and he’d missed her so much, even over the past couple of days. After experiencing this with her—with them—how could she have asked them to go back to “just friends”? Why had he pretended he could? “Cait,” he whispered, drawing her back just enough so he could stare into her slumberous blue eyes. His orgasm shot through him and into her mouth, raining down her throat while his spasms spun out in endless waves. His legs trembled, and he breathed in pants, overcome by the feelings she’d brought to the surface. She slid up his body, tugging up his pajamas as she went, and gave him a hard kiss, locking her hands around his neck to fuse them together. The taste of beer still lingering on her tongue along with his own release made another growl sound in his chest, and he scooped her up, covering her mouth again as he lowered her to his bed. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to walk for the rest of the night.” He pulled open Tristan’s shirt and dotted her neck and shoulders with wet, openmouthed kisses that made her arch and moan. “Maybe not tomorrow either.” “God, please. I’ve missed you.” He laid both hands on the sides of her face, driving his hips against hers. She wasn’t wearing panties, and he could feel how wet she was even through his pants. “You’re sure?” he asked, shocked to feel his heart seize up as he waited for the answer. He’d known he loved her and Tristan, but right here, right now, he realized how much he needed them as a part of his life. Even if that life had to be lived behind closed doors for the time being, he needed to hear her say the words. “Yes. I’m sure.” She cuffed his wrists in her fingers and bowed up to press her lips to his. “I love you, Matt.” He hoped his face didn’t look as red as his hot cheeks suggested. He’d never blushed before in his life, but damn if Cait hadn’t turned him into a flushed, stammering fool. “Re—” He grinned and tried again. “Yeah?” “Oh yeah.” She lifted her brows. “Now’s when you say ‘I love you, Cait,’ by the way.” He laughed and rubbed his nose against hers, enjoying teasing her. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Even when you’re stupid.” “Ditto.” She nipped his chin and rubbed against him plaintively. “Now about that fucking you promised me…” A knock came at the door, and he turned his head, expecting Tris. Instead his mom leaned in, already chattering. “Forgot my blasted toothbrush. Can you believe it? Edna dropped me off, and I told her I’d just come over tomorrow. I wanted to have breakfast with you in the morning anyway.” She fell silent, apparently noticing her son wasn’t alone in his bed. For a brief instant, she frowned. Then she smiled so widely her cheeks threatened to crack. “Oh thank God. I was beginning to wonder if you were gay.” Laughing with delight—and so occupied by her excitement she clearly didn’t notice the horrified look Matt exchanged with Cait—his mother rushed into the room.

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“Caitlyn, honey, I couldn’t be happier for you both. You’re the perfect girl for my Matthew.” She beamed as if she hadn’t noticed what she’d almost walked into. “You’ve made my Christmas!” “Uh, Mom, there’s more to this than you know.” Cait must’ve felt him brace because she laid a hand on his chest. Her expression told him to wait. Since he really had no desire to have this discussion with his mother while his regenerating erection still sought Cait’s warmth, he nodded. Later would be soon enough. He moved off Cait and couldn’t help laughing at the way his mother barreled into his arms. She gave the same treatment to Cait, bundling the girl up in the hug to end all hugs. “This is wonderful. Just wonderful. I’m so happy.” She tipped up Cait’s head and peered into her face. “Are you happy?” She aimed a quick, panicked glance at Matt before returning her gaze to his mother. “Yes. Yes, of course I am.” “And you? You’re happy, Matthew?” Knowing there was only one acceptable answer, he nodded. But he didn’t hear the rest of what his mother said as he realized someone else had heard the conversation. Tristan stood in the hallway, wearing only his jeans, with one eyebrow cocked in silent question. What did Tris expect him to do? Make an already embarrassing moment worse with oh hey, that gay thing? Not so far off, by the way. Dammit, was he giving off some sort of man-loving vibe now? And if so, what was the problem? He did love a man. Lost in his own thoughts, he scarcely paid attention when Tristan walked away. Tristan kicked back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. Moonlight slatted through the blinds and across his disturbingly unoccupied bed, reminding him exactly how alone he was. Caity and Matt were downstairs in the kitchen with Matt’s mom, probably planning a lifetime of domestic bliss. Though he knew it wasn’t the truth, wasn’t reality, he couldn’t help feeling left out. He turned over and punched his pillow, willing his mind to empty enough for him to sleep. It didn’t help that his bed smelled like Caity’s peach scent. Her smell alone made his dick hard. Maybe thinking they could ever live any other life but one like this was crazy. It wasn’t as if he’d ever known anyone in a threesome relationship. If Matt and Caity wanted to pretend they were in love and do him on the side, he could handle that. He didn’t need to go to romantic dinners with them or walk around holding hands to know he loved them. They could just keep it their own private secret. And he’d surely go insane within weeks. He rubbed his forehead to dispel the ache brewing there. Christmas Day wasn’t the right time to consider all this. Mrs. Collins would be heading home in a couple of weeks; then maybe Caity and Matt would be more open to discussing how to handle their relationship. Together. The three of them, not just them doing their own thing while he floated out on a raft in the middle of the ocean, annexed. If getting used to playing the secret third partner of their little union was in the cards, he’d have to figure out a way to deal with it. Of course, hearing his two co-conspirators whispering

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outside his bedroom didn’t help matters. They sounded as if they were having an argument. As tempted as he was to just bury his head under his pillow and ignore them, his ears pricked to try to catch the gist of their conversation. “…we can’t let her think it’s just us. It’s not fair.” “Just till she goes home. Then I’ll call.” “Call? You’re going to call and tell her something like that? No, you’re telling her tomorrow. Just like I’m telling my family. Merry fucking Christmas.” In spite of himself, Tristan laughed. His Caity Bait had grown balls bigger than Matt’s. He never would’ve guessed that she would be the one pushing to tell the truth, but there she was. His light bearer, finally accepting what he’d known all along. He needed those two people like he needed the air in his lungs. God help them all. A few minutes later, they entered his bedroom, still fighting quietly. He could tell from the swish of their clothing that they were getting undressed. Then Caity crawled into bed beside him and wrapped her arm around his waist as Matt scooted in behind her. Tristan didn’t give any sign he was awake for a couple of minutes. But when she pressed her cool lips against his bare shoulder, he couldn’t stop the groan. “Uh-uh. No kissing. Not if you want this scenario to continue.” “You’re awake?” Matt’s voice sounded gruff and exhausted. Tristan almost felt sorry for him. He knew all too well how tiring Mrs. Collins’s excessive cheer could be, especially once she set her mind on something. But Matt’s readiness to just cut him out of the picture to save himself some trouble grated, even though he understood why. “Yeah.” He stroked a hand over Caity’s hair and smiled at her rumble of contentment. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was lying here contemplating getting on threesomes.com. Maybe I can find myself a new twosome to shack up with since y’all abandoned me.” “Y’all?” Caity’s muted giggle made his smile widen. “Threesomes.com, huh? Is that a real Web site?” “Probably. I should get up and check.” When he started to get out of bed, Matt’s strong hand clamped around his forearm. “Get your ass back down in this bed, and stop pouting.” Tristan chuckled and slumped back down. “I’m not pouting. I’m annoyed. And not even that much anymore.” He gave in to the urge to roll over and face them, extending his arm until he encompassed them both. Caity snuggled close so that Matt could move in tight to her back. Almost as one, the three of them exhaled a collective sigh. “He’s going to tell her tomorrow,” Caity murmured, her voice already soft with sleep. “Yes, he is. Christ.” Matt’s irritated grunt made Tristan laugh. “Good night,” Tristan murmured a few moments later, well aware his lovers had already both fallen into sleep. When he woke hours later, faint sunlight trickled through the blinds. The first sound he heard was silence. Blissful silence. Then swiftly afterward, another hushed argument. “Do you have to go so early?”

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“Yeah, I do. I never made it to my mom’s last night. And I want to have the talk”—even without opening his eyes again, Tristan could imagine Caity’s air quotes—“before I chicken out. It’s just going to be quick. Hey, Merry Christmas, I have two boyfriends. Pass the pudding. See? No problemo. You should do the same.” Matt choked out a laugh. “I might’ve tried that, except my having a boyfriend at all is the part that I think may not go down well. Good thing Tris’s parents and your mom love me, since I may be an orphan soon.” Emotion moved through Tristan, making it impossible for him to feign unconsciousness any longer. He opened his eyes and stared at Matt’s muscled back, already tensed and ready for a fight. “Thank you,” he said quietly, not even sure they’d be able to hear him. They both turned his way. Caity stopped hopping around, pulling on her jeans, and lifted her head so that her wet hair dripped into her eyes. Matt noticeably relaxed his jaw, but his face still looked drawn. What they were doing clearly wasn’t easy on them, but they were trying. For him. Because even if they were willing to take what they could grab behind closed doors, they knew he wasn’t. He’d never loved either of them more than he did at that moment. “We want to be able to share a bedroom when people stay over,” Matt said with a shrug. “Without worrying about getting up before dawn.” “Yeah, and I want to be able to make out with you both at the movies.” She waggled her brows. “Why don’t we make this easier on all of us?” Tristan suggested, rising. A shower could wait till after breakfast. He grabbed the jeans he’d left in a heap on the floor and pulled them on, his lips twitching at Caity and Matt’s sudden interest. He woke hard most mornings, no external or mental stimulation necessary. But they’d get to enjoy that aspect of his physiology soon enough. “We’ll hold off on telling everyone for a few days. Then I’ll invite your families to my parents’ place for New Year’s and we’ll tell everyone at once. That way there won’t be any concern over ruined Christmases.” “We’re doing it today.” Cait flipped over and worked her fingers through her hair, undoing the kinks. “If we postpone it, it’ll only make the words harder to say. I want to get this over with so we can start living our lives.” Matt crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. He’d donned boxer shorts and a scowl, his typical morning wear the past couple of days. “She’s right. Besides, I can’t wait to tell my mom I like boys too.” His fake smile made them both laugh. “Not all boys. Just that boy.” Cait smacked her lips in Tristan’s direction. “Even if that’s not exactly true, just focus on the pertinent information. You’re in this for the long haul, so you’ll have to make do with this boy and this girl. Got it?” “Oh yeah, I got it.” Matt’s grin transformed his face as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her in the air. She pumped her feet and nearly toppled him over before dissolving into giggles. Tristan’s smile lasted until he turned to pick up his discarded shirt. He sincerely hoped they would all still be in buoyant moods at the end of the day.

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The minute Cait walked into her mother’s apartment later that morning, she knew something had happened. Though everyone was gathered in the living room opening presents, the cheerful carols playing couldn’t mask the tension hovering in the air. She set down her gifts and removed her gloves with her teeth, trying not to let them chatter. Whatever had occurred didn’t affect her own announcement. She wouldn’t allow it to. She owed it to Tristan and Matt—and herself—to be forthright and confident about the choice she’d made. At least when her family and her adopted families branded her a harlot and refused to talk to her anymore, she’d have her two men to keep her warm. “Merry Christmas!” she said in her best happy-go-lucky voice, walking around to kiss everyone in turn. The kids bopped all over the place, unable to stay still long enough for her to drop an air kiss near their heads, but she tried. She saved the biggest kiss for Ginny’s baby, Tabitha, rosy-cheeked and curled up in her swing. Stepping back, Cait realized she was smiling. Honest-to-God smiling. As if for the first time she could see her family as they were and not just representations of lives gone off track. Beautiful kids, a family that loved each other no matter what—what more could anyone want? Then Marnie’s son, Peter, bonked his sister on the head with a toy phone, and the wails began. “Good God, I’ve had enough.” Without another word, Cait’s mother hoisted herself off the threadbare couch and stomped down the hall. Cait swallowed as she noticed Val hunched at the other end of the couch. Somehow she’d missed her baby sister entirely in her sweep around the room. There were a lot of people, granted, and noisy kids, but she couldn’t have overlooked her. Val must’ve just snuck in. “Hey, Val,” she said, hip checking her younger sister as she plopped down beside her on the sofa. “I’m so sorry we haven’t had a chance to really sit down and talk. This past week’s been crazy.” “It’s okay.” Not by the sullen look on Val’s face, it wasn’t. “So what’s the scoop?” “What scoop?” “Why’s the parental unit flipping out?” Cait leaned in and whispered, “No one’s pregnant, are they?” Val smirked. “Just the same one who’s already preggers.” “Heard that!” Marnie called out, snatching the phone away from Peter and tucking it behind her back. More wails. Cait sighed. It didn’t take long for the spirit of Christmas to turn into a pounding headache. “So what’s up, then? What pissed Mama off?” Val gave a jerky shrug. “Dunno.” Definitely suspicious. “Sure about that?” “How should I know? And Jesus, why should you pretend you care? You only make your token appearances when you have a few minutes to spare from your perfect little life in your perfect little loft. It’s not like you care about any of us. We’re just your poor, pathetic family.”

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Val only stopped spewing her venom when she realized the room had gone silent. Even the toddlers were watching her, gap-mouthed. Cait shrank back, but not because Val had snapped. The vein of truth in what she’d said stung. God, she’d come here asking them to accept her when this was how they thought she saw them? Worse, she did think of her visits there as her good deed for the day more often than not. She was a bitch. With trembling fingers, Cait nudged her hair away from her face. She’d tied it back in a loose ponytail, but a few pieces escaped. Just like her dwindling nerve. “Can we talk privately? Please?” “I’ve had enough private talks today.” Val jumped to her feet. Without another word, she booked for the door, slamming it behind her. Cait cleared her throat and glanced at her sisters and their kids. That none of them would look at her said a lot. “She’s had a rough morning,” Ginny said after a moment. “Why?” More silence. Not for the first time, Cait felt like a stranger in her own family. What was new, however, was them treating her as if she didn’t belong. “It’s not true, you know,” Cait said, well aware everyone was staring at her. She tried not to fidget. “I love all of you. Maybe I don’t do the best at showing that, but I’m sorry. I’m going to try to do better.” “Why?” Marnie asked, offering Peter his phone. He seemed more interested in Cait’s speech. “Because…” She looked at her hands. Because what? She’d had an epiphany? Falling in love—and admitting it—had shown her that people could have dreams that didn’t match with hers at all? Or that sometimes dreams changed and you had to change with them? “I just didn’t want you guys to give up on everything you could be,” she said, her voice fading as she met Peter’s shining blue eyes. Dear God, what did she honestly think could be a more worthwhile dream than bringing a baby into the world and nurturing him or her? Helping your child become so much more than you could be had to be one of the most fulfilling things ever. And not just helping them to succeed financially. It wasn’t only about setting them up to get a good job, but teaching them how to be a decent fucking person. Something she clearly needed some help with. “We gave up some stuff,” Ginny acknowledged, ruffling Tabitha’s sparse curls. “We gained a lot more.” “Yeah. You really did.” Marnie reached out to take her hand. “Are you okay, C.C.?” C.C. had been Marnie’s childhood name for her. She hadn’t heard it in years. Grateful for the peace offering, Cait squeezed her sister’s hand, hard. “Yes. I am. Finally. And I meant what I said. I love you, all of you. I’m going to be around more often. So much more you’re going to beg me to stay home.” With a weak smile, she cleared her throat and rose. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

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“She’ll want to be alone,” Marnie murmured. Cait crossed the living room to the door. “She can tell me that herself.” She took the same path she suspected Val had, through the apartment building’s dusty hallways and down a couple narrow flights of stairs. She came to a stop at the side exit that opened in front of the small playground Val had hung out in since childhood. She sucked in a deep breath and opened the heavy, creaky door. Hopefully Val had stuck to pattern. A stiff breeze almost knocked her over the instant she stepped outside. The brisk December air bit into her cheeks, and her eyes watered. Just from the cold. That was all. Seeing Val on one of the rickety swings, twisting around in circles so that the steel links groaned, made the sting in her eyes increase. How had she let them grow so far apart? She just hoped she wasn’t too late to fix it. With all of them. “Hey,” she said when Val glanced up and immediately looked away. Cait pulled her cardigan sweater in tighter around her, though she knew she couldn’t stave off the chill that had seeped into her bones. “Can we talk? Please?” “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go now?” “No. I’m staying all day. Then hopefully we can all go over to Tristan’s parents’ house for a while tonight.” Cait took the swing beside her and tried to steady her voice. Ah, to hell with it. “Val, no matter what you think, I love you. You’re my sister. I wish you’d tell me what’s going on, but I understand why you won’t. I let you down. But I promise I’m going to try to do better. I swear.” “I told Mom I’m gay,” she whispered. Cait fought not to react. To keep her face perfectly composed. But even with Tris’s forewarning, shock must’ve registered in her expression because Val made a disgusted noise and turned away. “Honey, are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “But you’re only fourteen—” “I’ll be fifteen in two months.” God, she was just a baby. Cait rubbed her fist over her stomach. “Well, I’m twenty-five now, and I can tell you I don’t always know for sure how I feel about stuff. So maybe you’re just…” At Val’s heated glance, she trailed off and shook her head. “Okay. I got it. You’re sure.” “Yes.” For a while, the creak of the swings moving in twisted tandem was the only sound. “Do you have a, ah, girlfriend?” “Yeah.” Val dashed a tear off her cheek with a knuckle. “Or I did. We broke up.” “Oh sweetie. How come?” “Because she’s embarrassed she’s a lezbo. And she’s embarrassed everybody knows.” “Being a lesbian doesn’t make you a lezbo. Don’t ever call yourself that.” “Lezbo, lesbian, dyke. It’s all the same.” She shrugged. “I don’t care what people call me. I know what I am. Other people’s words for it don’t change me.”

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Cait wrapped her arms around her waist, stunned into silence. How could Val be so strong and brave and open about her identity while she flew her wuss flag high? If she’d had any lingering doubts about coming clean tonight, this conversation put them to rest. Val had set the gold standard. She needed to be completely honest about her feelings. No matter what. “You’re amazing,” Cait said quietly. “No, I’m a lezbo.” Val huffed out a breath and stared straight ahead. “I’m going to keep saying it until that word doesn’t have any power over me anymore.” “I get the sentiment, but lezbo is so—” “How the hell would you know? You and your white-bread existence.” “White bread?” Cait laughed, shaking her head. “Kid, you have no clue. And that’s fine, because you’re not really old enough to—” She broke off, suddenly realizing the idiocy of what she was saying. Val wasn’t old enough to what? To hear the truth? The truth she intended to yell hither and yon this evening at Tristan’s parents’ house? Cait cleared her throat. She couldn’t have bungled this conversation any more if she’d tried. “I’m not white bread. In fact, I have an announcement of my own. That’s why we invited everyone over to Tristan’s house.” Val’s eyes widened. “You’re not pregnant too?” “No.” Laughing, she grabbed hold of Val’s swing and tugged her closer until the chains clinked. “Tristan and Matt and I are”—she took a deep breath—“together.” Instead of hurling questions, Val pursed her lips and nodded. “I could see that.” “You could?” “Yeah. They’re both wicked hot. How would you choose?” Cait grinned, tipping her head against her sister’s. “You’re right. How would I?” She bit her lip. “You don’t think it’s scandalous? I mean, we’re not just living together anymore.” “You’re having sex,” she said matter-of-factly, making Cait feel even more ridiculous for blushing. Her fourteen-year-old sister could say it, so why couldn’t she? “Yes.” She sucked in air. “We’re having sex.” “All three of you. At the same time,” Val prompted. Don’t blush. “Um, yeah.” Val nodded sagely. “A threesome. It’s not that weird.” “Well, it is kinda weird. But in a good way. I love them. They make me feel amazing.” She swallowed hard. “But the thing is, they love each other too. All three of us are romantically involved.” Val nodded. “I figured. Tris’s totally metro.” “Metro?” “Metrosexual.” Val smiled and kicked Cait’s leg. “So…the halo’s not so shiny anymore, huh? Hurts to be down here in the sludge with the rest of us.” “I’m too in love to worry about my halo, smart-ass.” “I’m glad.” She jumped off the swing and held out her hands to help Cait to her feet.

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“Wait, what about you?” Cait gripped her sister’s hand. “Let’s talk.” “Oh, I’m totally happy now. Mom won’t care I’m a lez after she hears your news.” Cait laughed and rose. “God, you’re such a jerk.” “Oh, and by the way, tell your boyfriend I saw him that night. That’s when Liz freaked.” Val wrinkled her nose. “Well, the first time she freaked, anyway. It happened pretty much daily, at least until she went back to being a happy hetero.” “Happy hetero? Ha.” Cait urged Val ahead of her toward the side exit. “Good luck with that one. I tried to deny how I felt too. I broke in a couple of days.” “What did it?” Heat climbed up Cait’s throat to her face, but she didn’t shy away from the question. “They’re very persuasive men.” “Yeah, I bet.” Val grinned and turned to grab the door handle. “Hang on. You never told me what Mom said.” “A lot of swearing, mostly. She didn’t mind what this means for my reproductive chances though.” Val shrugged, smiling. “It’s really awkward now, but hopefully she’ll get over it. I can’t stand lying, you know? If I want to ask a girl out, I don’t want to have to make everything a big secret. I have to deal with enough crap outside, don’t need it here too.” “I get you. Believe me.” Cait sighed. “Hiding is way too hard.” “Yeah, guess you would. I’m kinda shocked you’re telling everyone. Like a big announcement or will you tell people separately?” “So far you’re the only one who knows. I’m not exactly sure how we’ll do it. Tristan’s taking charge, as he always does.” She frowned. “Except when Matt does. Hmm. How come I never take charge?” “Because you’re the little woman?” “Funny girl.” Cait punched her on the shoulder. “So what happened with basketball?” “Somebody called Liz a dyke, and I jumped them.” She glanced up at Cait as if gauging her reaction. “I’ll be able to play again after Christmas break. Coach Felder wasn’t that mad.” Cait moved forward and wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Have I ever told you how proud of you I am? As proud of you as I was before, it doesn’t touch how I feel right now. You’re incredible.” “Thanks.” Val’s watery smile made Cait’s heart squeeze. “Mostly faking it.” “Faking it counts.” Cait kissed Val’s forehead and gave her a little nudge to go inside. “But seriously, though I don’t normally advocate violence…” When Val looked over her shoulder, she winked. “Totally worth it.”

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Chapter Thirteen As the day wore on, Matthew began to question the wisdom of their plan to unveil their sexuality like a kinky painting. Cait’s wasn’t in question, of course, though her decision-making skills would be. Only he and Tristan would be on the chopping block there. Doing the supposed unveiling in front of Tristan’s dad, a guy with tons of prime hunting acreage and glass-fronted cases of guns lining his den, seemed particularly imprudent. Even so, he’d committed to staying the course, so he intended to follow through. And follow through he did. He spent long hours unwrapping presents and drinking eggnog and singing carols while his own band of merrymaking men clanged up a storm behind his right eye. But his smile never faltered, not even when Cait and her noisy, excitable family arrived to much fanfare. He and his mom were usual guests at the Baldwin Christmas get-togethers, but Cait’s brood rarely came over en masse. Hard to contain that many wriggling children in one vehicle, probably. They ate a gorgeous dinner in the huge dining room. Fine china, crystal glasses, pricey silverware. All the while, Matt wondered if throwing up his perfectly roasted duck and herbed rice would ruin the others’ digestion. After dinner, the children were put to bed upstairs. The adults retired to the spacious den— aka room o’guns—for a sing-along and more happy times around the third Christmas tree he’d seen in the Baldwin home so far. Presents were opened and passed around. Jokes and stories were told and retold. Everyone seemed full of good cheer. Hell, some of them, especially Tris’s dad, almost bordered on giddy. Then Tris lowered the boom. He turned off the carols and faced the room coolly, his business smile in place. If Matt hadn’t seen him flip his shit more than once, he never would’ve believed the guy ever dropped his veneer of calm. After the briefest of lead-ins, he announced, “Matt, Caity, and I are involved. We’re in love. We wanted to tell you all as a group.” Silence reigned. Finally a few people seemed to get the bright idea that only Tris and Cait were involved, as if Matt’s name had never been invoked. Matt didn’t entirely mind that idea and was in no rush to correct the assumption. His mother turned to him. “Did he say he was involved with you too?” She didn’t look aghast. Only mildly dismayed. Still the subtle disapproval made his throat lock. “Yeah. He did.” “But I thought you and Cait were together.”

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“We are,” Cait said, abandoning Tris to the circling wolves also known as his family to jump to Matt’s defense. Obviously she’d noticed his inability to speak. “But Tristan’s part of us too.” His mom frowned. “I don’t think I’m understanding.” So much for delicacy. Cait sat down beside her to try to explain—good luck there—while Matt worked on thawing his vocal cords. In the meantime, he listened to the various comments tossed out around him. “Together? All of you?” “Have you gone gay?” And his favorite, from Cait’s mother: “Did I go to bed and wake up in hell?” Tristan, he decided, was a fucking lunatic. Why else would he have thought this style of reveal made sense? Sure, they'd knocked off everyone at once, but mass conversational pandemonium didn’t lend itself to clear heads. The wild chatter began to die off soon enough. Once the dust settled, a lot of people didn’t seem all that surprised by the news. But the ones who were made up for all the rest. “You would ruin Christmas with this rubbish?” Dale Baldwin roared, scattering the other streams of conversation like fallen leaves during a windstorm. “It’s not rubbish,” Tristan said, his voice positively icy. It matched the glacial chill in his eyes. “I know it’s Christmas, and I also knew some of you would have a problem with this. That’s your decision. Ours is to be happy together with the support of those who are happy for us.” Matt swallowed. Lunatic or not, the guy had a way with words. And balls of damn steel, both in and out of the bedroom. “We’re not hurting anyone,” Matt added, surprised to hear his own voice rise above the din. “Some of you might be disappointed, and we understand that. We had to make a choice between our happiness or staying safe. We went with being happy.” Tristan threw him a grateful glance. Tristan’s father, on the other hand, glared. “I lost my daughter already. I sure as hell didn’t expect to lose my son to being—” “Don’t say it.” Cait shot to her feet so fast that even Dale did a double take. Cait’s younger sister Val came to stand beside her in silent solidarity. “You’re shocked, and you’re hurting over what isn’t. But don’t ruin what can be with words he’ll never be able to unhear.” “What about marriage and children?” When Cait frowned, Matt rose and wrapped an arm around her waist. She sagged against him, leaning in enough to tell him she appreciated the support. “We’ll figure all that out when the time comes. Whatever we decide, it’ll be our choice, regardless of what anyone else doesn’t agree with.” Tristan nodded. “We’ll make that decision just like we make every other decision. Together.” Dale opened his mouth to say more, then grunted and shook his head. A moment later, he stormed out of the room, his wife hot on his heels.

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Tristan’s younger brother, Steve, came over to speak with him. Though Matt couldn’t hear what was said, that Steve squeezed Tris’s arm before he also left the room was encouraging. Tristan came to sit on the arm of the couch as Matt and Cait again took their seats beside Matt’s mom. “That went well,” he said in an undertone. “You were very brave,” Mrs. Collins murmured, drawing all their gazes. Matt said nothing. At the moment he wasn’t sure of anything, except that he loved Cait and Tris. Everything else seemed muddy. “Honey, I’m not mad at you.” Matt looked at his mom, who’d looped her arm around Cait. Yet again he didn’t know how to respond. He was pretty sure no one wanted him to make some sarcastic comment to break the tension. “I would never cut you out of my life for being who you are. I love you. Just like I love Cait and Tristan. If you think this is what you want…” “It is,” he said, relieved that she didn’t seem to expect more. She wrapped her free arm around him, kissing his forehead just as she had when he was little. “Make each other happy, and I’ll be happy too,” she added shakily, taking Tristan’s hand over Matt’s shoulder. Cait’s family encircled them next, and to his utter relief, Cait’s mom didn’t seem too pissed. Most of her irritation seemed directed at her youngest daughter. He would’ve wondered why, but he had his own problems. When the Sachs mentioned collecting the kids and heading out, Matt rose, deciding they’d all had enough fun for one Christmas. “You guys ready too?” Cait linked hands with Val and whispered something to her little sister. Then she glanced at Matt and Tris. “Sure. Let’s go.” Tristan nodded, taking one last look in the direction that his parents had gone before grabbing his keys. “Disaster?” he asked Matt, his voice low. Matt shrugged and eyed the undisturbed gun case. “Could’ve been worse.”

**** Cait expected things to change, radically. She figured she’d move into Tristan’s room or maybe they’d redesign the loft so they could have one big bedroom. They’d have sex all the time—okay, maybe not constantly, as they still had jobs to do and Mrs. Collins was still visiting—but a lot. She’d be completely sated in every way now that she’d faced her fears and seized her future with the men she loved. Instead they didn’t have sex at all. Even kisses were rare. Work had been a convenient distraction. They were all busy wrapping up the end of the year stuff and preparing for the new one to come. Abe had loved Cait and Tristan’s ideas for his spring campaign, but he’d had tweaks. There were always tweaks. That still didn’t explain the guys acting so distant. At first she chalked it up to Mrs. Collins’s presence. But even after she went home, they seemed almost…disinterested in acknowledging their new relationship. Tristan, in particular, had turned into a shadow of the guy she knew. His parents’ reaction had hit him hard.

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Had he decided they’d made a mistake? Maybe his urgency for the three of them to hook up had diminished once everything was out in the open. So much for the holiday season. They’d just taken down the tree, but Christmas felt like a lifetime ago. With everything they were dealing with, it wasn’t that much of a surprise that there hadn’t been a lot of ho-ho-hoing. But now that it was a new year, she didn’t want to spend more time in limbo. Not when she’d finally gone for what she wanted, scary as it was. A couple of days after Mrs. Collins left, Cait cornered Matt when Tris went out to get their dinner. Divide and conquer was a time-honored offense for a reason. “So,” she said, slowly crossing her legs. She’d deliberately worn her shortest skirt, and from Matt’s heated glance, he’d noticed. “Have you two resumed your previous relationship without telling me?” “What?” A loud clacking of keys commenced. “Of course not.” “Sure about that?” She walked over to his desk and ran her fingers around his collar. “If you aren’t getting any from me, you must be getting it somewhere.” “No. Jesus, Cait. We’re not like that anymore.” “Oh, okay. I get it. The three of us hooked up so that I can get less sex now than I did when I was a damn virgin. At least back then I could use my vibrator.” She rolled her eyes and gripped the desk behind her. “Maybe I’ll do that tonight. Just get into bed with you guys and go to town. You snore so loud you probably wouldn’t even notice.” Matt’s jaw worked as he rose. “This isn’t funny.” “No, it’s not. Why won’t you talk to me? How am I supposed to fix things if you both clam up and pretend everything’s fine?” “This is new for all of us. We’re just sort of feeling our way in.” She grabbed his hand and brought it to her breast. Even that brief contact caused her nipple to pebble. “Feel me.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t, Cait. Don’t force this.” She stepped closer. “Do you still want me? Hypothetically speaking, of course.” A brief smile. “Of course I do. No hypothetical needed.” “Do you still love me?” “More than ever.” Relief poured through her as she linked hands with him. With all the thoughts twirling through her mind, one stood out from the rest. “There’s something I want to tell you. While it’s just us.” “Okay.” “Christmas Eve, the day Tristan and I—” “Were bumping uglies when I came back to the loft. Yeah, I remember. Or actually you were licking uglies.” His grin didn’t quite hide the concern lurking in his expression. “That’s not all. Tristan mentioned kids. How he didn’t think he should have them because the CF gene could be in his DNA.” “Oh.” Matt’s throat worked. “You don’t think that’s bothering him too, do you? He can’t have just realized that.”

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“No, but I think he’d just figured out how to handle it. With us.” She gathered up her courage. “He suggested that someday you and I…could have children. As good as his own, he said.” Matt’s brows shot up. “Wow. Oh…wow.” “Your powers of conversational persuasion are especially stunning tonight.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I just wanted you to know that he’s got it all planned out, long-term. I mean, I know we are long-term and committed and all. But he’s already thinking long-range.” “Yeah, well, it’s Tris. He would. Actually it makes sense.” He squeezed her fingers. “I think it’d be one hell of a rush seeing you with a baby inside you. Our baby.” Now she was the one to swallow hard. “This is hypothetical, right?” “Completely.” He framed her face between his palms and met her eyes. Everything inside her slid into place, key into lock. Then he lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss that felt more like oral fucking than it did an easy mating of lips and tongues. He groaned and rubbed his erection against her belly. “I miss that sweet pussy,” he said in an undertone, sliding his rough palm up her inner thigh. “That pussy?” she tossed back, already breathless. His fingers flexed inches from where she needed pressure most. “Yours. On my mouth. Around my cock. Around his cock, creaming while I watch.” He stroked his thumb over her damp lower lip. “I’m just not sure he’s ready,” he murmured. Shocked Matt had actually shared something without turning it into a joke, she tamped down on her rampant lust. “His father hurt him.” “His mother too. Neither of them have returned his calls.” “So he can’t reach out to us? I thought we were together.” He shrugged. “You know how he is. If he can’t solve something, he doesn’t talk about it. He never does.” “Yeah, and you’re such an open book.” He gave her a quick smile. “Nah. But you read me like one.” “We need to figure this out. I don’t think Tris is just upset about his folks. There’s more to it. That’s why I wondered…” She blew out a breath. “I wasn’t sure if you’d decided you liked two better than three and didn’t know how to tell me.” “You’re kidding me, right? You really think we would’ve gone through all this just to go back to the way things were? No fucking way.” He gripped her ass and hauled her closer, kissing her neck while he dug his hard cock into her belly. “You’re ours. Every bit of you belongs to us, to do with as we wish. Anything we wish,” he added directly into her ear. Almost involuntarily, she rocked her hips to feel more of his erection. “Lots of talk on that score. Haven’t seen much action.” He eased away to look down at her. “Red flag, bull. Not a good idea if you’re not ready to back that up.” Since his hands still cupped her ass, she pressed down into his palms. “Oh, I’m ready. More than.” Matt moved so fast she had to laugh. But instead of spiriting her away to the bedroom, he grabbed his cell off the desk. “Let me call dickhead and get him back here.”

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A smile curved her lips. It was sweet, really, that he wouldn’t touch her without Tristan there anymore. At least touch her beyond kisses. Maybe they’d need to negotiate that, because sometimes Tristan went out of town to design conferences and trade shows. If she and Matt were alone in bed, she didn’t trust herself. And vice versa, when Matt was visiting his mom in Idaho. Then there would be times the guys would be alone too, and she didn’t want them to get weirded out if she wasn’t around. Ground rules would need to be set for a lot of things. But not tonight. Tonight would not include talking, if she had her way. “Wait,” she said before Matt could call. “He was stopping by home first, then picking up food, right?” “Yeah. Keeps knocking against the thick wood of his dad’s skull.” Matt shook his head. “He won’t leave it alone.” “Of course he won’t. He’s always been close to his parents. I can’t imagine what this distance must be doing to him.” She cupped her elbows and frowned as she met Matt’s gaze. “We need to help him forget for a little while. Prove to him he made the right decision.” “So I’ll call him and—” “Just wait. Let me think.” She hurried over to the calendar on Tristan’s desk and checked out his agenda for the next few days. “He doesn’t have anything scheduled for the weekend.” “No, not that I’ve heard.” “Let me call him, okay?” She returned to her desk and grabbed her cell, hitting the number of Tristan’s speed dial. He answered after two rings. “Hey, babe. Getting hungry?” Since it was the most affection she’d heard from him in two weeks, she smiled. “You could say that. Where are you?” “Right now? Sitting on a bench on the north end of East Lake, feeding the pigeons. Greedy bastards.” She shot a glance at Matt. If Tristan was sitting alone on a park bench in the near dark in the middle of winter, things were more dire than they’d suspected. “Did you talk to your parents?” “Yeah. To my mom at least. She’s pretty much gone back to the way things were before.” “Oh good. I’m so glad.” But she didn’t miss the pain in his tone. “And your dad?” “He didn’t rush out to shoot something when I showed up, so that’s progress, right?” “Guess so. Did he say anything to you?” “Yeah, he actually asked how TD’s year-end numbers looked.” He gave a short, ironic laugh. “I told him profits were up six percent from last year, and I got an ‘atta boy’ before he and Steve went off to do that manly son-and-father thing I’m now excluded from.” “He needs time, Tris. You said he’s starting to come around.” “Yeah. I know.” He paused. “So I’m out feeding the birds.” “Gonna get done with that anytime soon, or you planning on camping out there tonight?” “Nah, think I’m done.” She heard rustling she assumed meant he was standing up and getting ready to go. “You guys gotta be starving by now.” That was Tristan, doing his duty when his heart clearly wasn’t in it. “Aren’t you?”

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“Sure.” She bit off a sigh. One way or another, she and Matt would just have to love him through this. “So what’s for dinner? Thai Kings?” After getting another “sure” in response, she calculated how long it would take to get from the office to the takeout joint. They wouldn’t have much time. As soon as she hung up with Tristan, she flashed Matt a bright smile. She’d told Val that faking it counted, so if she had to fake her happiness until she knew Tris would be okay, then she would. “What’s that smile for?” “You’ll see.” She started mentally packing her overnight bag as she snagged Matt’s arm and pulled him with her upstairs. “So, about that bondage rope of yours…”

**** Tristan took the long route to Thai Kings, just to give himself a little longer away from the loft. It was a nice night, cold and clear, with tons of stars twinkling in the dark blue sky. But the weather wasn’t why he wasn’t in any hurry to head home. Cait and Matt weren’t at fault either. Not really. He didn’t trust anything right now. They didn’t know he’d yet to stop expecting them to turn to him and say maybe they’d all moved too fast, that they weren’t interested in the kind of relationship he wanted. Just because he’d finally gotten them to cave didn’t mean his timetable matched up with theirs. He didn’t doubt that they loved him or each other. As friends at least. But as for the rest? As far as committing to a real, permanent arrangement, something deeper than pizza runs and sexfests and innuendos they didn’t have to keep behind closed doors…well, that was murkier water. Had he pushed them to do something they truly hadn’t been ready for? He didn’t think so, but he’d given them plenty of space and ample opportunities to approach him, and they hadn’t. For God’s sake, for the last two nights since Mrs. Collins had gone home, the two of them had kept to their parts of his bed as if each of their areas were separated by an electrical fence. If they expected him to make the first move, they’d obviously overestimated his current level of confidence. Though it hurt, he could handle the situation with his dad. Things were improving slowly. He hoped one day his sexual orientation and relationship choices would be a nonissue. In the meantime, he would do his best to deal. But putting his heart on the line with Cait and Matt, even turning to them in bed at night, was just asking too much. He couldn’t take the possibility—no matter how remote—of another rejection right now. If that made him a coward, he’d wear the title and be done with it. Besides, why the hell couldn’t they come to him? Make that move, give him that grand gesture? Just once, why couldn’t they show him how much they loved him without him begging for it first? When he couldn’t stall any longer, he drove into the parking lot of Thai Kings. He’d called in their usual order, though he wasn’t particularly hungry. But Cait and Matt were waiting on him, so he’d deliver. Score one for the dirty Boy Scout.

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Lips quirked, he picked up their order and headed back outside into the brisk night. As he strode across the lot, he took a deep breath of cold air. He had no reason to complain. So everything wasn’t perfect with his parents. So Matt and Cait waited for his lead when it came to showing emotion beyond expressing an interest in playing naked Twister—and they hadn’t even expressed that lately. He had a hell of lot going for him. Maybe he needed to stop waiting for his lovers to take control and do it his damn self— Heavy footsteps on the concrete behind him made him stop short. He started to turn, expecting to see someone going to their car. Instead a muscled shoulder pushed him against the side of his vehicle. The bag of food slipped to the ground as his arms were jerked behind him. Tristan went wild, trying to shake off the hold, but his assailant held fast, saying only, “Dammit, stay still.” Could it be? “What the fuck?” Tristan began, seconds before a soft, curvy body slid up against him and cool, silky fabric covered his eyes. “It’s just us,” the woman murmured, tightening the blindfold. “You’re safe.” The momentary surprise and panic transformed into a rush of blood that funneled straight into his cock. He knew that voice. Recognized her innocent peach smell and the wicked lips that brushed his Adam’s apple. “See, unlike when someone else tried that move, we didn’t give you time to get afraid,” Caity said, her tone amused. “Or much time, anyway.” The questions on Tristan’s tongue fell away as a broad hand gripped his erection from behind. “Nope,” Matt said, chuckling. “Unless fear means insta-boner.” Tristan started to laugh, but he cut it off abruptly when the hand on his cock grew rough. Then another, more gentle hand joined in. It cradled his sac, nested tightly in his jeans. So fucking good. They hadn’t touched him in too long, and he hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d needed them to until this very moment. He groaned. “What the hell are you two doing?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Matt asked huskily. They squeezed and fondled him until his breathing became little more than gasps. Speak. “Apparently…not.” “Then allow us to elaborate,” Caity breathed hotly near his ear. “We’re kidnapping you.”

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Chapter Fourteen “Do you know where we’re going? And what we’re going to do to you when we get there?” Caity’s sensuous questions probably would’ve hardened his balls all on their own. When coupled with her pleasuring his shaft through his pants, he couldn’t hold back his exhale. He’d been doing a lot of that since they’d herded him into Matt’s SUV. They’d been driving for a while, but he hadn’t been bored. Not with Caity making such good use of the traveling time. She’d started with kissing his neck and sucking on his earlobe while she explored the ridges of his stomach under his shirt. Then she moved on to stroking his hard-on and licking his collarbone, before finally kneeling between his legs and going to town on his dick through the material. “Yes, to your first question. To your second…” His voice failed him when her lips sealed around the head and pulled. “Fucking hell. I’m about to ruin very expensive pants,” he managed. “Mmm. Maybe we’ll cut these off you and save them as a souvenir. How would you like that?” She palmed his sac and squeezed while she orally tormented him. “Though we might not have to cut them off, since you’re about to poke out over your belt.” “Jesus Christ,” Matt said. “So much for that one being innocent.” “Not anymore.” Her singsong voice would’ve made Tristan laugh if she hadn’t slipped lower to tongue his balls. “Matt, where is that spot that’s so sensitive on guys? The place to press if you want them to come?” “Uh-uh, no.” Tristan tried to scoot backward on the seat, but his bound arms and her rigid hold on his thighs didn’t give him much ability to move. She was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked, though truthfully, he didn’t try that hard to get away. He wasn’t a fool. “Don’t tell her, Matt.” “Okay.” The SUV shuddered to a stop, and Tristan glimpsed a flicker of movement through the blindfold. “How about I just show her?” Caity held his cock out of the way, giving Matt plenty of room for his demonstration. Then Matt pressed his finger squarely behind Tristan’s prostate while Caity finally unzipped his pants, releasing him just in time to get his cock into her mouth before he came with a shout loud enough to shake the truck. She sucked and sucked some more, uttering those little purring noises she’d perfected; then she crawled onto his lap and sealed her lips over his as the SUV lurched into motion. Or maybe it was just a wave of dizziness. Either way he groaned as her coated tongue lapped at his before she reached down and started jerking him off. Again.

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“You’re not going to be stingy with your orgasms tonight, are you?” Her sultry whisper coiled in his belly, teasing his dick to wake from its brief slumber. “We expect you to live up to your end of the bargain.” “What bargain?” God, was that really him? His voice sounded thready and exhausted. Already. The woman he loved was one hell of a vixen. And the man he loved made her a deviously sexy partner in crime. “You promised to take my other virginity too, remember?” She playfully bit his chin. “The kind that involves both my boys at once?” If he hadn’t been blindfolded, she would’ve seen his eyes roll back in his head. His balls drew tight all over again. “Seriously, don’t taunt me with that,” he grated. “Who’s taunting?” She shifted on his lap until she could drag him up and down against her panties, already soaked with longing. “I’m serious. So serious I want to just pull over and slide you in me right now. What do you say, Matt? Wanna rock and roll right on the side of the road?” “Hey, Frankenstein,” Tristan muttered over their laughter. “Get control of your monster.” “Mine, huh?” Matt followed up his possessive growl with a smack that could’ve only been his hand against Caity’s ass. Her breathless squeal confirmed his assumption. “If she’s mine, how come she’s not up here blowing me, then? You already had your fun.” “Good point.” Caity gave Tristan a quick, conciliatory kiss. “I’ll be back soon.” Thunks and wheezes signaled Caity’s climb into the front seat. Shortly thereafter the opening of a zipper and Matt’s long, relieved groan filled the cabin. “Jesus, pull over before the cops zero in on this traveling porn bus,” Tristan said, fighting a grin. “Nah. I can drive just fine one-handed. The other’ll keep her nice and steady on my dick. Right, sweetheart?” Her answer was, unsurprisingly, little more than a gulp. With a laugh, Tristan settled in to enjoy his aural treat. The rest of the drive passed in a sexual haze. After helping Matt hit his own pinnacle in the front seat, Caity came back and curled up on the backseat with her head in Tristan’s lap. And she was not sleeping. By the time Matt dragged him by the rope around his wrists up the walkway to the cabin, it had started to snow. Good thing, because his cock felt so sinfully abused that even the cold snowflakes on his erection—she’d considerately left his pants open—provided welcome relief. He’d come twice. Two ball-bustingly hard, incredibly intense times. How the hell was he supposed to perform his role in any bargains when he’d already been shoved so close to the limits of his endurance? But when Matt pushed him down on the chair by the fireplace and the moans started, Tristan’s flagging hard-on jumped right back up to say hello. “If you kill me,” Tristan warned, “you’ll need a new plaything. So you might want to pace yourselves.” “Oh, oops, sorry. We just turned on a movie.” Caity’s voice sounded especially girlish and especially sexy. “Want us to turn it off?”

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Hearing his own groans on-screen, Tristan gritted his teeth and shook his head. The freaking porno. He’d forgotten all about it over the past couple of weeks. Listening to it now, he had no clue how. “Ever gonna let me see it? Since I never have.” “Guess we can allow that, right, Matt?” Caity undid his blindfold, gesturing to the flat wide-screen TV on the opposite wall. “Enjoy.” He could’ve, would’ve, if she hadn’t paraded in front of the chair wearing just a tiny scrap of panties and lacy bra that barely contained her small breasts. She strolled over to the couch and sidled on top of Matt, who wasted no time in sliding his hand between her legs. With one flick of his long fingers, she arched and clung to his neck, putting her breasts at the level of his mouth. Matt sucked on her nipple as he fingered her, his free hand massaging her exposed ass. She’d just had to wear a thong. Tristan shifted uncomfortably on his chair. Why had he asked to lose the blindfold again? Between the sex on the screen and the sex on the couch, his cock hurt. Actually hurt. He was still a young guy, but come on. How much could he take? The moans rose on the movie as he watched himself enter Matt’s ass. His balls gave a warning throb. Damn, that was hot. He shifted forward when movie Tristan grabbed a handful of Caity’s hair and dragged her face to his. The kiss seemed to last forever. Lips brushed, eyes closed on breathy sighs. While he ate at her mouth, she cradled his jaw. She smiled as she pulled back, her vulnerability and love shining for anyone to see. For him to see. Tristan’s heart kicked. How, how could he have seen that smile and wondered how she really felt? Her emotions were written in every line of her face. Through Caity’s orgasm, then Matt’s spectacular explosion in her mouth, followed by his own amazing finish, Tristan’s muscles tensed in anticipation. His dick throbbed. But when the three of them cuddled together on-screen and he glimpsed the look Matt gave him as Caity settled between them, his breath quickened all over again. When Matt’s hand wandered over her soft belly to clutch his and their fingers tangled, his pulse sped up with another kind of anticipation altogether. He’d been blind, entirely. Looking for words and over-the-top gestures when they’d offered him their hearts all along. And it didn’t take a kidnapping and a bazillion SUV blowjobs for them to prove it. All he needed was them. Just them. Not trying to be sexy and rev his motor, not putting on a show worthy of a backroom sex shop. He needed to hold them and love them just as they’d given him their love in a million little ways he doubted they even realized. Tristan swallowed over the boulder that had formed in his throat and glanced at the couch, only to find the action had stopped. They stared at him, then at each other. “What’s wrong?” Caity murmured, rising. She threw a worried glance at Matt, who looked just as concerned. “Did we screw up somehow?” Tristan nodded and did his best to look grave. “Yes.” It took every ounce of his acting ability not to give away the truth. “Time to untie me.”

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She hurried to comply, which made a smirk twitch onto his lips. He glanced at Matt, hoping he hadn’t seen it. But Matt wasn’t looking at him. He gazed off into the distance, his jaw locked tight. “We need to talk,” Tristan began, well aware that he wouldn’t be able to continue this charade for long. “Let’s go in the bedroom.” If either of them thought that was an odd request, they didn’t argue. A couple of moments later, Caity and Matt sat on opposite sides of the bed near the headboard. Tristan didn’t sit. “We know you’ve been upset for a while,” Caity said, intertwining her fingers, then immediately pulling them apart. “And we should’ve said something. Letting you deal with your folks alone isn’t what any of us signed up for.” “But we were waiting for you to come to us.” “Why?” Tristan asked, though he hated to interrupt their fascinating back-and-forth conversation. Somehow he’d missed just how connected they were, like he’d missed so much else. Instead of that making him jealous, he took pride in their closeness. They were a unit, just as he had his own link to each of them. Somehow they’d built a strong foundation for this crazy thing they’d embarked on, even without knowing they were doing it. Matt frowned. “Because that’s what you do.” “Not always. I remember a time when you approached me,” Tristan said, easing a hip on the bed. “Remember?” “Of course I remember,” he said, looking adorably embarrassed. In spite of himself, Tristan grinned. He’d never seen Matt on the verge of a blush before. “Red looks good on you, bro.” “Shut up, asshat.” Caity glanced between them, still doing that finger thing. She didn’t say anything. “And you,” Tristan continued, glancing at her. “You approached me too, that morning when I found your mug broken on the floor. I’m guessing you dropped it because you suddenly got really busy on the table.” At her equally embarrassed face, his grin widened. “You forget I know his moves quite well myself.” “What’s your point?” Matt asked. “The point is I don’t need to be kidnapped or tied up or teased. It won’t make me forget that we didn’t bounce off into the sunset after we announced our relationship. Nothing worth having is easy to get, and getting here with the two of you sure wasn’t.” He reached out to stroke Caity’s ankle. “As much as I liked your setup tonight—and hell, I hope we do it again—it’s not what I need right now.” “What do you need?” she murmured. He lifted his gaze and encompassed them both. “Just us. No games. No ropes, no movies, no toys. I just want the two of you.” Before they could answer, he rose and undid the buttons of his shirt. He shed it slowly, noting the way the blue of Caity’s irises deepened and Matt fisted the sheet at his hip. His shoes

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and belt came next, followed by his trousers. As usual, he didn’t wear underwear, which revealed his aching hard-on that much more quickly. The blast of cool air against his stiff flesh nearly made him moan. He moved toward Matt. “Let me,” he said when his friend’s hand went to his fly. Matt’s throat jerked, and he nodded. “Go for it.” Matt wore his usual outfit of faded, ripped jeans and two shirts, this time a thermal beneath a T-shirt that said GEEKS DO IT SMARTER. This one definitely did. He tugged the shirts over Matt’s head one at a time, pausing long enough to stroke his firm chest. The first couple of times he whisked his fingertips over Matt’s pecs, his friend didn’t react. When he drew his hand lower toward his waistband, Matt let out a soft groan, his glittering eyes meeting Tristan’s. Knowing what it took for Matt to stay still under Tristan’s ministrations made Tristan that much harder and hotter. Matt hated being vulnerable, even as he sought ways to put himself at Tristan’s mercy. To reward him, Tristan took his time, caressing his skin with every movement. Skin that heated and burned his palm. “Do you have any idea,” Matt said through gritted teeth, “how much I want to crack a joke right now?” Because he did, Tristan didn’t speak. He flipped open the button and yanked down Matt’s zipper over the noticeable bulge beneath. Together they worked off his jeans and boxers and tossed them aside. Matt’s erection lay flat against his stomach, the plump head already damp with arousal. As much as Tristan wanted to feel him in his mouth, taste the flavor of him letting go, he had someone else to undress. Tristan walked around to Caity’s side of the bed, unable to resist running his hand down her shiny blonde hair. She whimpered as he drew his fingers down the strap of her bra, then went to work on the clasp. Her breasts sprang free, as tempting as Matt’s thick cock, but he only grazed her yearning flesh with his thumbs before continuing downward to her thong. Only then did he realize it was see-through, baring her shaved sex. He shot her a speculative glance. “Do you like it like this?” She lifted a shoulder as he knotted his fingers in the strings at her hips and tugged. “I did it for you guys.” “Do it for you,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead before he pulled her panties down her legs and threw them over his shoulder. “We love you any way you want to be.” Her smile careened through him and left him light-headed all over again. “Smooth talker.” “Mmm. Smooth is the name of the game tonight,” he said, bending her knees toward her chest. He gave her one thorough lick, giving special attention to her swollen lips, her stunned moans pushing him to dart his tongue inside. “You still taste like a ripe peach. So juicy.” Much as it pained him to leave her, he moved across the bed to lie between Matt’s legs. One wet slide of Tristan’s mouth was all it took to have his friend shuddering. He nuzzled his sac, tonguing it with the pressure he knew Matt preferred. Continuing his carnal torment, Tristan took one of his balls between his lips and pulled lightly before giving the other the same treatment. He could smell Matt’s excitement, and the dark, heady aroma made his head swim. He

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reached up to stroke Matt’s massive erection, following the path of his hand with his mouth. When he reached the tip, he started to suck, his focus drawn inexorably to Matt’s face. Matt clenched the sheets and tipped back his head, his dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His lack of commentary had to be some kind of record. But he didn’t stay silent. His breath whistled between his teeth, and he grunted with every lap and suck. After another moment, Tristan returned to Caity, and this time he lingered. He bathed her in wetness, trickling more over her clit so the shiny pearl stood out for him to lick. Her hips flew upward and her legs closed, capturing him in his sweet, wet prison. Slipping lower, he jabbed his tongue into her slit. Her liquid met his thrusts, slickening his mouth. He opened her up again, pressing his face fully into the inferno at the juncture of her thighs while he continued his slow oral fuck. She yelped and grabbed his head. “God, I’m—” When she broke off, he glanced up. Matt had his hands full of her breasts, and he attacked her mouth in a mimic of Tristan’s shallow strokes. Tristan smiled and resumed his task. Finally. They weren’t instructing each other or playing games, as fun as they could be. They were just responding to each other. Just enjoying. As if they’d coordinated it perfectly, they advanced on him together and pushed him onto his back on the mattress. Caity undulated her body against his, rubbing, grinding. She pressed her breasts to his chest and kissed him with unrestrained passion while firm lips and strong suction worked his cock. Caity’s head fell back when Matt parted her swollen folds, gathering her juice. A moment later a slick finger probed Tristan’s hole, an invasion he welcomed. Another finger joined in, and he gripped Caity’s arms harder than he meant to. Her eager cry soothed him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but God, Matt knew just how to finger fuck him, flexing and pumping, bearing down with his knuckles and his mouth in tandem. He closed his eyes and gave in to the pleasure, only to feel another warm, wet pair of lips join the intimate torture. She didn’t suck him, didn’t even lick his cock. She kissed his stomach, his hips, his inner thighs. Butterfly kisses. Kisses meant to prod his lust without any hope of satisfying it. His back arched when her attention moved to the underside of his erection while Matt sank deeper than before. So damn deep he groaned. His sensual torture went on for a while, so long that his legs tensed and locked and his skin misted with perspiration. Fingers and mouths and tongues explored him, provoking laughter and sobbing moans in equal measure. Not all were his, when he could get a hold of a handful of water-pale breasts or rock-hard flesh. Without knowing quite how it happened, he ended up reclining against the pillows with Caity in his arms and Matt crowding close to his back, his friend’s erection impossibly rigid against his ass. Despite the heavy pants filling the room, the pace changed drastically. Matt nuzzled his neck while Tristan did the same to Caity, enjoying every shuddery breath she took. Heat rolled over him, blanketing him. His mind emptied of everything but this. But them, together. Finally. At last. Caity leaned over him to grab hold of Matt’s jaw and speared her tongue into his mouth, giving Tristan the most up-close look at a kiss he’d ever experienced. The slip and slide of their lips, the clench of her fingers as she dragged him closer. So hot. He needed to get inside of Caity, needed to feel Matt there too. Needed them so much.

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Tristan shifted and pinned Matt beneath him, rubbing his cock against his best friend, absorbing the groans that accompanied each rough brush of flesh. He fisted Matt’s length and jerked it hard, his gaze seeking Caity where she sprawled beside them, watching avidly. “You want in on this?” he asked, his voice low. She didn’t have to be asked twice. She crawled forward, and they readjusted positions until she was poised over Matt’s straining length and Tristan had her firmly in hand—both hands, on her warm, aroused breasts. Sharp nipples razed his palms, and her heart throbbed when he reluctantly let one go to drag her back against him. “Scared?” he questioned as a tremor went through her. That edge of fear shouldn’t turn him on, but it did. Knowing they would be indoctrinating her into something that would make her theirs, that proved she was, ratcheted up his desire. There could be no coming back from tonight. From what the three of them did in this bed, or what they felt. Finally they would own her body just as she owned their hearts. As they owned each other’s. “Of you?” A challenging light burned in her eyes as she tossed him a glance over her shoulder. “No damn way. I want you.” She grabbed the condoms that Matt held out. “And you,” she added to Matt, dropping one on his belly while she tore the wrapper of the other. “And I want this.” Matt reached up to tweak her nipple. “Mmm, can’t wait to suck these while you’re riding me. While he’s riding you.” Tristan grabbed her jaw and tugged her face around so he could draw her lower lip between his teeth. “You like that idea?” He touched her where she burned, and she moaned. “You ready for us, baby?” Before she could answer, Matt yanked open the nightstand drawer and grabbed the lube. “Not yet, she’s not,” he said, suiting up in record time before he squirted some lube on his fingers and slipped them between her legs. “What’re you doing?” she demanded. “Trust me. Slip and slides are fun.” He let out a long breath. “Though you’re doing pretty good already, aren’t you?” “But too much lubrication loses friction,” she began, breaking off as they both grinned at her. “What?” “You read up on it, didn’t you?” Matt asked, shaking his head. “Only you. And seriously, we know what we’re doing.” She gasped at something Matt did with his fingers, though Tristan couldn’t see exactly what. “Got it?” “Got it.” Matt tossed the tube to Tristan, who caught it and the condom she passed him. He sheathed himself and drizzled on the lube. Holy shit. He gritted his teeth and carefully smeared it over his erection. Their extended foreplay had definitely stoked the flames of his arousal. He didn’t have a lot of control left, and the main event hadn’t even started yet. As if to speed him up, Matt pulled her forward and spread her open with his hands on her ass. Seeing her wide-open like that did crazy things to Tristan’s gut, but he did his best not to shoot his load before he’d even gotten inside her. All the way inside.

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“Go slow,” she told Tristan, her words muffled by Matt’s chest. “I’m not going at all yet.” As his lubed finger gently penetrated Cait’s puckered hole, she hissed. “Now I am,” he added, grinning. “Okay, but just make sure to—” “Here,” Matt said, snatching a pillow. “Bite on this and shush.” “Don’t push that in my face.” Indignation rang in her tone, but Matt only laughed and tickled her ribs. “Wanna wrestle, Caity Bait?” Matt questioned, grabbing her wrists. Her laughter increased, ending on a whimper as her relaxed muscles allowed Tristan’s finger to go that much deeper. For a moment, she stilled. Then he inserted a second finger and moved them in slow, tight circles, encouraged by her long moan. “How’s that? Feel good?” Matt asked, stroking her hair as she turned into a live wire in his arms. She lifted her hips while she pressed her face into the crook between Matt’s neck and shoulder. “Mmm. So good,” she whispered. She didn’t admonish them anymore. Matt tipped her face up and kissed her, exploring her lips with such slow, erotic thoroughness that Tristan lost the thread of his finger strokes and sped up, probing her harder than he meant to. Not that she seemed to mind. She bucked against him, opening up while Matt fucked her mouth with his tongue. Matt’s free hand swept down her back to her hip, pulling it up so he could bury himself inside her in one seamless stroke. She arched into his thrusts, inadvertently pushing Tristan’s flexed fingers farther every time. Tristan nudged her forward, altering the angle of Matt’s entrance enough to give himself a prime view of Matt tunneling inside her. He could see everything. How wetness dripped down her thighs, how Matt’s shaft seemed to be engulfed by her swollen, slick folds. And when Tristan forced his focus to their faces, how both looked as if they were teetering on the edge of bliss. He wanted to share that bliss. No more waiting. He couldn’t. Using his other hand, Tristan coaxed a finger inside her, making room beside Matt’s cock. They both shuddered as he started to rub, building the friction. Her inner tissues clamped around them as Matt reached down to thumb her clit. He barely touched her before she went off, her pussy contracting in powerful waves that seemed to last forever. Her cries reverberated in Tristan’s head while he withdrew his finger and licked off her juice. “You’re going to give him more of that, aren’t you? Make him nice and wet so he comes inside you when I’m in your ass.” Her helpless whimpers intensified when he slipped his fingers free of her rosette and slid his tongue inside her instead, trickling saliva and thrusting with enough suddenness to make her jerk back against him. More of her arousal trailed down her legs, glistening in the faint overhead light. “You’re ready,” he said, hefting the rigid weight of his erection, “and so am I.” After adding more lube, he inched the head of his cock inside her hole, expecting her to shriek and curl into Matthew. Back there she took tight to a whole new dimension. It would hurt her, and he couldn’t avoid it. He just hoped she wouldn’t hate that she’d agreed to this once they were through, because he’d want to take her ass again for damn sure.

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But she didn’t make a peep. When she clutched a pillow, Matt reached out to weave his fingers in with hers, murmuring softly as he withstood what had to be a bruising grip. Almost immediately the tight ring of muscle around Tristan’s dick eased, just enough for him to proceed. Tristan smiled. Caity’s body clutched at him, and his attention blinked out. They were so damn cute together. Something he’d marvel over later. Much later. He forged on, as gently as possible. Her spine arched in silent suppliance. God, she was so beautiful. Just right in every way. And now she belonged to them. Carefully, he pushed in and stopped, moved forward, then stopped again. He gripped the soft mounds of her butt and tipped his hips, sliding all the way in on a hot rush of breath. Dammit. Fucking heaven. He steadied himself while trying not to notice Matt’s thick cock on the other side of thin membrane or the slippery glove that clung to the ridges of his dick. “All right, sweetheart?” he murmured, rubbing her lower back. “She’s fine. Aren’t you?” Matt kissed her forehead and shifted, easing out before sliding home again. Sensation rippled along Tristan’s dick, and he rolled his neck forward to let it wash over him. “Show him how fine you are, Cait.” She lifted her head from Matt’s chest and glanced back. For an instant, Tristan thought he glimpsed the glitter of tears. He stiffened, prepared to pull out. Hurting her wasn’t acceptable. Not enough to make her cry. But she started to ride, haltingly at first, then with growing confidence. “Move,” she gasped over her shoulder, her tousled blonde hair falling across her face. He moved. Buffeted between the men, she seized hold of Matt’s biceps and thrust her ass in the air. Matt pulled out, and Tristan sank in. Fuck, she took them deep, deeper. All three of them groaned as they found their rhythm, alternating their strokes and experimenting with speed and pressure. Tristan knew he was driving her too hard, that he’d likely leave bruises on her hips as he jerked her back and forth. But if he cocked his head just right, he could see the way Matt plunged into her slick sheath, and he sure as hell could feel every excruciating inch of Matt’s hard-on. Every grind and slide. Each warning pulse that meant their fun wouldn’t last long. Though it was pointless, he tried to slow things down. He lengthened his plunges, timed them to offer a respite between. But when Caity’s body bowed as her climax claimed her and dragged Matt along for the ride, Tristan gave in. With their mingled cries filling his head, he gave one last wild thrust and flew over the edge with them. “Yes, yes, fuck, yes.” Panting, he let the orgasm take him over as he spilled himself into the condom. Hearing his lovers’ moan again as he came only made the moment more sweet. Nothing had ever, ever been sweeter. As the residual jolts subsided, Tristan slumped against Caity’s back. He knew he was too heavy, but he couldn’t move just yet. “Just a sec,” he mumbled. “Promise.” Caity fumbled behind her for his hand. “’Kay.” After a moment, she added, “You know, that shaving thing. Not such a bad idea. Feel…everything.”

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Matt and Tristan chuckled at her dazed, awed tone. “Glad it works for you,” Matt said, rubbing his nose against her cheek until she let out a soft giggle. Tangled together, they sprawled over every inch of the bed. Tristan brushed his cheek over Caity’s damp back and breathed her in, enjoying her and Matt’s combined scents. The smell of sex filled the air, mixed with peach and the wintergreen of Matt’s aftershave. A perfect trio. Smiling, he loosely linked his fingers with Matt’s. Then came a soft sniffle. He lifted his head. “Caity?” he asked, stroking the curve of her hip. “Are you crying?” “No.” She sniffled more and turned her face into Matt’s chest. Matt met Tristan’s gaze over her head and shrugged. “What’s wrong, short stuff?” Matt asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Nothing. Fine. Afterglow.” “Right.” Matt shook his head. “I cry after coming all the time.” “Did I hurt you?” Tristan glanced down at her ass and frowned at the bright red handprints. He bent his head to kiss them. “Sorry, sweetheart. I got rough. Didn’t mean to.” “I’m okay. It didn’t hurt. Much.” They shifted apart and quickly cleaned up before Matt and Tristan aligned on either side of her and boxed her in with their arms and their kisses. They’d get it out of her, whatever it was. “Gonna tell us?” Matt asked, cradling her hip in his palm while his lips roamed her cheek. “No. It’s stupid.” “Tell us.” Tristan nuzzled her neck and hoped to God he hadn’t hurt her, despite her assertions otherwise. She was so small, so easy to bruise. “I won’t do this every time,” she said, seeming to calm for a moment before the floodgates opened and tears raced down her cheeks. Again Matt looked at him. Chick thing? he mouthed. When her sobs began to slow, Tristan nudged her onto her back between them. “We don’t have to do that again, if you don’t want. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever. I promise.” “I liked it, a lot. I came, didn’t I? A couple of times. And God, so hard. All of it was beyond incredible.” Her shudder gratified Tristan, and he could tell from Matt’s grin he felt similarly. “It wasn’t the sex. Or it was,” she said, wiping her tears away with obvious frustration. “It just hit me all at once when you were both inside me. What we were doing. What we are now to each other. How I won’t ever be alone again.” “Oh, Caity—” She shook her head, cutting Tristan off. Her quivering chin pierced an arrow in his already sore chest. “I love you,” she whispered to him. “I love you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you,” she said, shifting to stare up at Matt. “I love you,” he replied without any of his usual bravado. Caity looked between them, her eyes narrowing. “And?” Tristan glanced at Matt, who was already looking at him. “And what?”

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She rolled her eyes and blew out a breath. “Isn’t there something else you want to say? To each other?” Catching her drift, Tristan swallowed and met his best friend’s gaze. “We’re good.” Matt nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Fine. We’re really fine.” She screwed up her mouth and laid a hand on each of their chests. Yep, they were done for. There could be no escaping her clutches. “Say it. It’s not enough to know. Some words don’t hold weight. But in this case, they matter.” Tristan knew she was right. If someone asked if he loved Matt, he immediately knew the answer. Of course. But turning to Matt, and saying aloud I love you seemed like overkill. They each knew where the other stood— “I love you, you jerk,” Matt blurted as both Tristan and Caity glanced at him in shock. “Now get over here.” Tristan was grinning before their mouths connected. A skim of lips, a hint of teeth, a whole lot of heat. As they slipped apart, he murmured, “I love you, Matt.” Matt grinned back, and then together, they glanced at Caity. “Happy?” “Ecstatic.” She laughed and gave each of them a quick kiss before darting out of bed. Her steps faltered, and she looked back, biting her lip. “Oops. Sorta forgot I’m sore.” “Where are you going? We can run you a bath—” But she was gone before Tristan finished. “Women,” Matt said as he flopped down on the mattress. Tristan caught his breath at the memory of her retreating naked body and adjusted his newly revived cock. He lifted his brows at Matt, who looked similarly interested. “Think she’ll be up for some swapping action later? I’d love to take my turn back there. Her ass is delectable.” “You’re telling me? Think I know that better than anyone.” “I want to know too. Like…really. A lot.” Matt smacked his lips together. In another moment, he’d be drooling. “Wonder what I can say to convince her?” “Lick her. That tongue could convince anybody about anything.” “Yeah, you do have a point. My tongue’s a legend in its own time.” “Heard that,” Caity said, sailing back into the room with her big black tote bag in hand. “Which part?” “Most of it. Pervs.” But she looked far from dismayed. In fact a sexy smile wiggled on her lips. “Let me rest up before you plan the rest of the night, ’kay, studs?” Matt grinned and elbowed Tristan. “Oh hell yeah, I’m so getting that ass.” With an arch look at her men, she dropped the bag on the bed. Then she hauled out a small CD player and a tiny Christmas tree draped with a couple of strands of lights. What the hell? “Uh, Christmas was weeks ago, Cait,” Matt said. “You forget that?” While they stared, she plugged in both items and set them up on the nightstand. Twinkling bulbs soon flashed multicolored beams of light across the bed. “Perfect,” she said, flicking on the small white star at the top.

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She crawled back in between them and slung an arm around each of their necks as “The Chipmunk Song” filled the room. Inspired choice. “I bought her the CD,” Matt explained, chuckling. “Had sentimental value for me and all.” Tristan shook his head. Only Matt would show his softer side by purchasing the music that had been playing when they’d discussed their first time having threesome sex. “Our Christmas kinda sucked, what with all the drama,” Caity said, drawing their attention. “All the ‘will I or won’t I’s,’ all the family nonsense.” She planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. “Now it really feels like Christmas.” “Yeah, guess it does,” Tristan agreed, resting his hand just beneath the curve of her breast. In a minute, that breast would be in his mouth. “Cute tree,” Matt acknowledged, sliding closer to nibble on her ear. “I told Matt about your idea for us to have kids.” She said the words in a rush, her face upturned toward Tristan’s. “Just so you know it’s out there.” Tristan widened his fingers over her belly and let himself imagine, just for a moment. Then he smiled. “Good.” He cast a glance at Matt. “Didn’t freak?” “No. It makes sense.” Matt lifted a shoulder and returned his smile. “It’s good to have a plan, right?” Every time he thought he couldn’t love them any more, they went and said—or did—the most amazing things. “Sure is,” Tristan agreed softly. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Caity stretched her arms above her head and gave them a wicked grin. “Who wants to give me their special gift first?”

Loose Id Titles by Cari Quinn Insatiable Unwrapped

Cari Quinn Award-winning, multi-published author Cari Quinn wrote her first story--a bible parable-in 2nd grade, much to the delight of the nuns at her Catholic school. Once she saw the warm reception that first tale garnered, she was hooked. She attempted her first romance in junior high, long before she’d ever read one. Writing what she knew always took a backseat to what she wanted to know, and that still holds true today. Cari’s genres of choice include contemporary, romantic comedy, romantic suspense, urban fantasy and paranormal. Recently she discovered erotic romance. Oh, how far she’s come. Find more about Cari Quinn and her books at http://www.cariquinn.com, or follow her blog at http://cariquinn.blogspot.com.