I’m their naughty toy maker. I’m able to be me.
My orgasm is like a shooting star. I don’t see it one moment, and then bam—it’s upon me. I arch my back, his tongue still flat on my clit. As I gyrate my hips to get more friction against my clit, my whimpers are matched with Knox’s kiss.
“He’s talented with his tongue, isn’t he, baby?”
My speech hasn’t returned, nor is my brain working. “Baby, you with us?” Knox asks. “Great, hon, you killed her via orgasms.”
“It would be a great way to go.” I finally find my words.
“Absolutely not, Ave. We just got you, and we’re not letting you out of our grasp.” Rowan is back to his no-nonsense self, but the grin, sans his glasses, has me ready to examine everything we can be together.
I’m looking out of the men’s bedroom window to the driveway, and I’m surprised to see Whitney’s car. I’d given both men a quick kiss on the lips, explaining I’d text them soon. And I’m tiptoeing back in the house at nine in the morning.
They were both still snuggled up in bed together, but it’s not my intention to share this part of my life with Whitney yet. My custody of my sister should be finalized by the beginning of the week after next. Until then, I can’t flaunt my relationship. I could have it revoked if my morals came under scrutiny, but after more research on polyamorous relationships, it’s not as taboo as it was even five years ago.
Plus, I’m not sleeping with a whole array of men.
The door is unlocked, so when I push it open with force, I almost fall on my wood floors. Thank goodness I’ve fixed the squeak in the door. And I hope she’s not seen I’m absent from our house.
“Well, well, well, looks like you’re performing…” She begins to tap her fingers on her chin when I round the corner to her scrutiny, wearing a broad grin on her face. “What do they call it? The walk of shame?”
We technically didn’t have sex, so I’m not sure her term qualifies as the walk of shame. However, we sure took part in many questionable acts, and I don’t regret any of them.
“I must have missed you this morning when I left a while ago to have coffee with our neighbors.”
“Cut the crap, Ave.” This time, she’s serious, her lip curling into a frown. “Don’t treat me like a dumb kid. Sure, you have more experience than me, but I’ve had a lot of growing up to do in the past two years. I want you to be happy. Don’t you see that? I need you to be happy. Then, maybe there’s hope for me.”
“Hope for you?” I repeat her words, wondering what she means. “Why would you say this, Whit?”
“You’re beautiful and talented and funny. If you don’t find your happily ever after, then how the hell will I?”
I’m blown away. My sister is arrogant, so when she lets me see her vulnerability, I’m caught off guard.
“Whit, you’re everything I’m not. You’re confident, and you know what you want from life.”
“Forget it.” She stands from the dinette table, rushing past me. She halts in the threshold of the door. “I just want you to be happy. Be happy for yourself, and in turn, you’ll be doing the best thing for me.”
Something is off with Whitney, but barging in and making her share it with me wouldn’t achieve anything. I’ll have to wait it out, but until then, I send her best friend a text, hopeful she’ll share.
I turn to the coffee Whit had brewed for me, pouring a generous amount, and then add a peppermint creamer I treat myself to during the holidays.
I throw myself onto a chair at the dinette table, staring out the window with the memories of last night. I don’t have a regret. Not a one.
I’ve made my way back to the boys’ house after Whitney closed herself off in her bedroom. My text to Jessica has gone unanswered. I’m not ready for Whit’s angst, accusing me of infringing on her privacy.
I’m lying on the couch with my head on Rowan’s lap. Knox is rubbing my feet as they both watch some Sunday football. But my mind is on anything but watching the sexy football players who just came out last year in a committed relationship.
“Baby, why don’t you go check on her?” Ro begins.
I’m staring at my phone, begging Jessica to call me back with