was never going to happen, so I never did anything about it.”
Brow puckering as I tried to reason what the hell was going on here, I asked, “I’m confused. You’re going to do this, but for me? You don’t want to. In fact, you hate the very idea of it, but for me, you’re all in?”
“Pretty much.”
“Yeah.”
Their answers didn’t soothe me. Sure, I was getting what I wanted, but fuck, I’d never thought about what they needed either. How horrible was I? God.
“No.” I shook my head. “Maybe we should just be friends. If this is your idea of hell, I’m not going to live with you both in moods and resenting me because you don’t want what I want—“
“Ama,” Saint snapped. “Shut up.” And like that, he kissed me. He kissed me, and he kissed me, and he kissed me.
It went on for a lifetime, until I was drowning in him, until I was existing for him, until I was breathing his air and he was breathing mine. At my back, I felt the hard-on digging into my ass, but I ignored it because, at that moment, I was one-hundred-percent Saint’s.
He fucked my mouth with his tongue, sure, but he also made love to it. Every part of me was enticed and incited by his loving kiss, and I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life without experiencing this. I just couldn’t.
He was it for me.
But so was Ink.
And Keys.
I was made for them, and they were made for me, but if they couldn’t deal with what I needed, I didn’t blame them. Even if it broke my heart.
Saint broke our kiss, and his lips were red and raw, swollen, as he bit off, “You’re thinking.”
“Of course, I am,” I rasped, my voice hoarse and husky from what I’d just experienced.
“Then he wasn’t doing it right,” Keys grumbled, and he stepped back, just so he could twirl me around and claim my mouth.
I wasn’t sure if this was some kind of Hunger Games where kissing was concerned, but consider me won over.
Jesus.
Had they both been kissing other women like this all this time? Had they been treating other bitches to what should have always been mine?
He kissed me like I was dying, like he was dying. Like this was our last day on Earth and we’d run out of time.
It made my heart pound, my body throb, and between my legs, I was wet. So wet that my hips rocked into him as want and need ricocheted inside me and I didn’t know where to put them.
Didn’t know how to respond when my body wanted something that I didn’t know how to ask for.
A whimper escaped me, one that sounded as hungry as I felt. It encompassed every emotion inside me. Made me recognize just what the two of them had done to me.
There was no denying they wanted me just as much as I wanted them. But the idea of living like I wanted? Like my parents? That was the idea that turned them off. I understood, I did, but it didn’t stop me from craving it.
Maybe I was greedy, but I didn’t think of it that way.
I was eighteen, and for someone as fucked up in the head as me, I considered these three guys to be my normality. I knew who I was around them. Knew what I wanted to be. Yeah, I’d laid the foundations of my world on them, and maybe I shouldn’t have done that, maybe that wasn’t what feminists wanted from me, but I had no fucks left to give.
When Keys pulled back, his teeth tugged on my bottom lip before he murmured, “You’ve always been mine, Ama. Just as much as you’ve been theirs.”
“I think we need to show her that.”
My eyes were dazed when I turned and watched Saint twisting the ‘Open’ sign on the door to ‘Closed.’ I didn’t stop him, didn’t even utter a word. Just turned back to Keys and asked him, “Is this what you want?”
He blew out a breath. “The one thing I know is that I want you. That if you need me in your life, I need you just as badly in mine. Maybe it isn’t ideal for me. Maybe I want you to myself. But… I know you, babe. I know how you work. I know that we each represent something different to you, and even when I was thirteen, I knew that.
“I didn’t like it. I hated it. I