Isabel
The sound of the front door closing downstairs jerks me out of my sleep as the romance novel I was reading hits the floor. My eyes pop open and I reach for my phone to check the time. It’s late, so it must be Hunter or Drake…or both. The distant sound of muffled voices and grunts carries up the stairs. At first, I panic, thinking it’s a scuffle. Especially when I hear a body slam into the wall.
Then I hear my husband’s low growling command, “Get your ass upstairs.”
My belly warms and my thighs clench together. I know that tone, and I know what it means when he talks like that. With a gulp, I climb out of bed and peek out through the door.
I almost let out an audible gasp at the sight. They are fused at the lips, Drake grinding Hunter into the wall midway up the stairs. There’s a tussle, and then Hunter gains control. Flipping Drake around, he bends him over on the stairs, rutting against his backside, and Drake lets out a painful sounding groan.
“Go to the guest room…now,” Hunter growls. “Get yourself ready for me.”
Then he shoves Drake away as they both continue their walk up the stairs. I don’t know why, but something about this doesn’t involve me and I don’t think I want it to. In a silent rush, I run back to my bed and collapse against the pillow, closing my eyes and feigning sleep, just as Hunter walks into the room.
His footsteps pause at the door, and he stalls there for a moment. Please don’t wake me up, I silently pray. Just be with him alone.
It’s strange how badly I want my husband to sleep with someone else without me. But the idea of him and Drake together appeals to me so much more than the idea of being involved. Not every time, of course, but right now…I feel as if this could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. This could be the moment everything shifts. Hunter will finally accept this about himself, and with that, accept Drake fully into our relationship—where he belongs.
As Hunter steps closer to me, I force myself to look asleep. Eyes closed. Breathing even. Face relaxed.
Please don’t wake me up. Please don’t wake me up.
He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. “I love you,” he whispers. Then he turns off the bedside lamp and quietly disappears from the room.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I wait a few moments before opening my eyes. The room is dark and Hunter is gone. Down the hall, I hear more muffled voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
As quiet as I can, I get out of bed and creep down the hall toward the guest room. Stopping outside the door, I listen.
“I need you,” Hunter mumbles quietly.
“Then what, Hunt?”
“What do you mean then what? Since when are you worried about what happens after sex?”
Drake sighs. “Since I starting fucking your wife. Since you kissed me in a dark club. Suddenly, it fucking matters a hell of a lot.”
It’s quiet for a while, and I close my eyes, willing them to get past this. To finally talk about it. Get over whatever is keeping all of us from the life we truly deserve—together. And part of me really wants to burst in there and tell them exactly what they need to do to get over it, but I can’t. They need to do this themselves. Hunter needs to prove to Drake that he’s not letting his father’s voice stop him anymore. And Drake needs to prove he’s ready to commit.
When it’s quiet for so long I get curious, I carefully peek around the corner, catching a glimpse of them lying on the bed together. They are naked, Hunter stretched out on Drake’s body, perched on his arms as he stares down at him.
“What do you want me to say?” Hunter whispers.
Another long, tense silence stretches in the darkness. Finally, Drake says in a low, husky whisper, “Nothing. Just fuck me.”
I almost let out a whimper at the sound, my body growing hotter by the second. I clamp my hand over my mouth as I listen to them. Their groans, curses, gasps, and grunts. As much as I want them to talk it out, this is too hot to stop.
I peek my head back into the room and watch in the dim moonlight as Hunter crawls down Drake’s body and eases Drake’s cock down his own throat. Drake lets out a deep guttural sound as he clamps a hand around Hunter’s black curls and thrusts his hips upward until I hear my husband gagging.
Dipping back into the hallway, I press my back against the wall as I listen to them. It’s nothing like I’ve ever heard before, and my body is on fire with arousal from the sound. I can’t believe myself as I lower my hand to my cotton panties, slipping my fingers inside to touch myself, if only to ease some of the pain from this acute need.
With the other hand clamped around my mouth, I draw circles around my clit as I listen to the filthy noises of Hunter’s wet mouth around Drake’s cock.
When I hear the bed creak with their movement, I peek in again. Again, it sounds more like a struggle than sex, grunting and movement and a fight for control. Hunter is lying on Drake again, the moonlight catching the blond in his hair as it’s fanned out around him. Kneeling between his spread legs, Hunter opens a small bottle and everything is quiet for a moment until I hear Drake moan.
“You like that?” Hunter whispers.
“More,” Drake replies.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.”
“More, Hunter.”
I can hardly breathe. My skin is burning hot as I listen to whatever it is they’re doing. I assume by the way Hunter is kneeling between Drake’s legs that he’s prepping him, and the idea of something so intimate, so…new for him, is driving me wild.
“I’m ready,” Drake says quietly, and I watch from the dark hallway as Drake lifts his knees and Hunter aligns his cock with Drake’s tight hole and eases himself in. He does so with a long, breathless groan, and I can’t help the tiny squeak that slips through my lips.
Quickly evading the doorway, I keep my back to the wall and my hand down my panties as I wait to be caught. But I’m not. Instead, I listen as Hunter moans again, his cries mingled with his best friend’s, and I know the moment he’s inside him as far as he can go because Drake lets out a strangled, “Fuck.”
“Goddamn, that’s good,” Hunter replies. His inhales are rapid and desperate sounding as if the air is being choked out of his body. “Fuck, that’s so good, Drake.”
“It is, isn’t it? Just keep moving.”
I’m losing it. This feels so wrong of me to even be listening, let alone pleasuring myself to the sound, but I can’t help it. Those men are mine, both of them, and I didn’t think there could be anything as good as having them both, but I was wrong. Because watching them have each other is far, far better.
The bed creaks, the headboard slamming into the wall as Hunter fucks him with fire and passion now, thrusting to a heavy beat. And if they thought I was going to sleep through this, they are crazy.
“Stroke my cock while you fuck me,” Drake commands, and I assume Hunter listens because the next thing I hear is Drake muttering broken words and phrases: like that, yes, good, perfect, oh God.
“I’m gonna come,” someone says in a breathy exhale, and I don’t know who it was because I’m too lost in my own orgasm. My head hangs back, my spine slick with sweat, as I soar toward my climax, blinded by pleasure.
When the hearing returns to my ears and my eyes finally open again, I make out the sound of their kisses and what sounds like a tender moment of whispers that I can’t quite distinguish. After everything, it sounds like a private moment, so once I’ve caught my breath, I slink back down the hall and straight into my bathroom.
Standing at the sink after I’ve washed my hands and doused my face with cold water, I stare at my reflection. The girl staring back is momentarily happy, but I quickly cure her peace with all the fears and thoughts I’ve been keeping pushed away.
Like what is going to happen to us if this all falls apart? What if Drake doesn’t want to commit and leaves us? What if Hunter can’t come to terms with his sexuality? What if losing Drake breaks our marriage because I’m not enough?
They’re stupid worries, really, but I can’t help myself. I’m barely used to one person loving me so much. What are the odds the three of us actually make this work and end up together? It’s too good to be true. There are too many complications to worry about. Too much at stake.
I want to crawl into bed with them, lie between them and let their nearness scare away all of the worries, but I can’t. Instead, I climb into bed with my own fear and fall asleep, alone.
When I wake, I’m no longer alone. I hear the buzz of Hunter’s electric razor as I peel my eyes open.
“Morning,” he chimes with a bright smile.
Well, aren’t you chipper this morning?
“Morning,” I reply with a stretch. Climbing out of bed, I walk into the master bathroom and we go through our usual morning routine, like everything isn’t so strange right now. After washing my hands and brushing my teeth, I pause and lean against the counter, staring at him through the mirror.
Hunter will try and stay silent through everything. He doesn’t want to talk about it because talking about it means facing the truth and having to make a decision. It means change, and change is scary. But I’m not going to let my husband live in silence anymore.
“You didn’t come to bed last night.”
He pauses, the playful grin melting off his face. “I slept in the guest room with Drake.”
I bite my lip as I stare at his reflection. Then that wicked grin tugs on the corner of his mouth again as he steps closer to me, crowding me against the sink. Staring back at me through the mirror, he leans in and kisses the side of my neck.
“But you knew that already, didn’t you, Red?”
So he did hear me in the hallway.
“Maybe,” I reply, my lips pressed together.
His arms snake their way around my waist, pulling me closer. “And did you like what you saw?”
“Did you?” I reply, staring at him and fighting the urge to melt to the floor. I want to hear him say it. My husband had sex with a man last night, a pretty big deal that I’m not going to let him just avoid facing.
He pauses in his attempt to make this about me watching him. Then his gaze lifts to my face in the mirror. Sincerity washes over his expression as his brow furrows and his mouth sets in a thin line. “Yes.”
“What does this mean?” I ask carefully.
“It doesn’t mean anything. We got carried away and—’
“Hunter,” I snap, cutting him off.
He swallows, looking more nervous than confident at the moment. I turn to look at him, touching his face. The fear in his eyes guts me to my core. “This doesn’t change anything about who you are. If anything, I think it just makes you more you.”
“What about us?” he asks with trepidation in his eyes.
“I think we need to start acknowledging that there’s a new us.”
He takes a deep breath, letting his shoulders slide down away from his ears. “Is that what you want?”
I bite my lip. “Yes.”
Hesitation burrows itself back into his expression as he pulls away. “I don’t know, Red. I just don’t know how long that can last. It’s too complicated.”
“So what…you want to just keep having sex with him and keeping him tethered to our marriage? Is that fair?” I ask. Distantly, I wonder if Drake is still here. Can he hear us from the guest room?
“How do we know he even wants to be in a relationship? He’s literally never been in one before,” he argues, and I feel him putting up a fight before he even bothers to open up to let in the truth.
“Because he’s been in our relationship the entire time,” I say.
“Not like this,” he says, his voice getting a little too loud. “The sex is great, babe, but what if that’s all it is?”
“It’s not and you know it,” I reply in a whisper. Moving away from Hunter, I walk toward the door.
Before I disappear from the room, he adds, “I’ll think about it, okay?”
And for Hunter, that’s enough. For now, at least.
