Her breath came in short pants, and her juices coated my tongue and face. I wanted—needed—more. I wrote soliloquies on her pussy and murmured for her to come.

  When she did, her ass came off the bed, and her cries were as tasty as any lyrics.

  I shifted my body enough to move my hand to my cock, my fingers slick, and jerked my tender shaft while her taste lingered on my tongue. When I came, it left a spray across her thigh and hip, painting her in cum.

  I collapsed onto my back, my head on her other shin, as I tried to catch my breath.

  “Was it like that, back in the day?” Sonya’s question was soft.

  “Yes, but also no.”

  “Oh?” Quentin asked.

  Tonight would replace any stories about the past for me. Nothing I’d done back then held a candle to this. “This was so much better.”

  4

  Sonya

  Waking up in the same bed as Jeremy and Quentin was nice. They were good friends, and made me feel safe.

  Waking up with the memories of last night, of the way the two bounced off each other, was yummy.

  Waking up to them, wrapped around each other, was just plain hot.

  I lay next to them, floating in the lingering fun from last night. I was used to spending time with both of them, but not together.

  Quentin, Megan, and I made trips like this every few months, to different cons. He had a good following as a cosplayer, and she made the most adorable plushies that she sold in Artists’ Alley.

  Jeremy had never joined us before. Last night, there were distinct sparks between him and Quentin. I didn’t have to decipher the subtext; there was no subtlety in two men agreeing to whip their dicks out for each other.

  As tempting as it was to lie here a while longer and daydream about all the ways the two of them might hook up, I should start my day. I was quiet, climbing out of bed, grabbing my phone from Quentin’s stuff, and logging into my email.

  There were so many new messages. I deleted the newsletter subscriptions and skipped to those from people whose names I knew. The messages were one amazing and supportive congratulations after another.

  I opened one from another author I’d interacted with a few times, but mostly we just brushed by each other in our day-to-day online lives.

  I don’t know who you paid for this publicity, but we both know you didn’t earn it. If you think success because you can buy people counts, you’re wrong.

  Whoa. What?

  My gut turned in on itself, as I read the words again.

  I hadn’t…

  I wasn’t…

  I started to reply, telling her she had it all wrong, then deleted it. The words sounded defensive. I should let it go or at least come back to it later, but the message taunted me.

  I tried a different approach. I was sorry she saw things that way, but it wasn’t—

  Delete.

  None of the messages I started felt right. They were apologetic or defensive or accusatory or could be twisted back on me in some way.

  My phone was yanked from my hands, and I looked up to find Jeremy standing in front of me.

  “Give it back.” I reached for the device.

  He stepped away. “I’ve been calling your name for the last ten minutes, and you’re so wrapped up in whatever has you frustrated that you’re not hearing me.”

  “I’m not frustrated.” I had missed his getting up, though. And getting dressed. And that the shower was running in the background, and I was still sitting in a chair in my panties.

  “You’re scowling at your phone like it just told you that your fanfic-dot-club password is invalid, as if you haven’t typed it every day since the site opened. Did you forget one of your most important rules?”

  I wasn’t in the mood to be lectured. “I wasn’t reading reviews; it was an email. From another author. And it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Really?”

  I sighed and told him what was in the message.

  “She’s wrong, and telling her that won’t change her mind.” His tone softened.

  “I know, but…”

  Holding my gaze, Jeremy crouched in front of me and grasped my hand. “I get it. Vent to me. Every retort and justification, I’m here to listen. Do it while we’re at the con. Do it all day if you need. But don’t reply to her.”

  “Okay.” The compulsion to clear my name and make her understand was strong, but Jeremy was right. Sending a response, especially when I wasn’t in a good frame of mind, wouldn’t do that.

  “Good. Get ready and we’ll head downstairs.” He lightly slapped my bare thigh, and a pleasant rush surged through me. Last night’s fun was lingering, but I didn’t mind. Good memory.

  It took Quentin longer to get ready than both Jeremy and me, but I expected that. Putting on the makeup, wig, and outfit was an event by itself. But when he was done, he looked exactly like X brought to life. Even though the series of games from Rinslet had wrapped up a few years ago, X’s character was still popular.

  Which I loved. X had starred in some of my very first fanfics—he was the first guy I shipped with another—and those stories were my entry into working in the gaming world.

  We headed down to the con. This wasn’t a huge show, but it was big enough that we’d see a variety of neat stuff over the next eight to ten hours.

  After we stepped off the elevator, we were stopped every few feet so people could take pictures of and with Quentin. It took us thirty minutes to walk the short distance from the hotel lobby to the first panel.

  “I knew he’d be popular, but this is way more popular than I expected,” Jeremy said.

  I shrugged. “You get used to it.” I watched as another wave of groups posed with him and snapped photos.

  “Not that I blame them.” Jeremy looked Quentin over. “Pretty sure X never looked that good in the games.” His tone was admiration mixed with… lust?

  Maybe. Interesting. “The graphics were lower quality in the games.”

  “That’s right, guys and gals.” Quentin joined us. “Full 8K HD right here, live and in person.”

  “I really want there to be a sex joke in there.” I followed them into the panel room, and we took seats near the back of the room.

  Jeremy furrowed his brows, then smiled. “We can have him say it again later, so you can think up a better comeback.”

  “Nah. The moment’s passed. Besides, I’m sure the two of you will give me plenty of innuendo-laden opportunities as the day goes on.” And maybe some daydream fodder as well.

  “Ah, the life of a romance writer.” Quentin sounded wistful. “Always thinking about ways to fit more dicks in.”

  I let out a short laugh. “Not even ten seconds. Told you.”

  I was looking forward to a day full of panels, dotted with small breaks to shop and eat. It had been a while since I attended one of these as a fan. Sure, Megan was fine with me going to whatever panels I wanted, but I went to shows to help her, and I hated abandoning her.

  Still, I missed having Megan here. How was our con dynamic going to change when she got married?

  I shook the random question aside and enjoyed the panel. We hopped from The History of Weapons to Women in Fiction to a fanfiction panel.

  I sat in on every fanfic panel I could, mostly to find new authors to read. But also, it was fun to watch the trends shift, both in series people were writing about, and the tropes and kinks as they waxed and waned.

  The moderator introduced all the guests—mostly names I recognized, but with a couple brand new on the list—then paused. “And we have a special guest in the audience.”

  We did? I looked around, trying to find a familiar face. Was it another newcomer to the scene?

  “Sonya Russel has been a part of the community for years and has spun her talent into a career.”

  Who?

  Jeremy and Quentin were both nudging me.

  Holy shit, that was me. And everyone in the room was staring at me.

  Eep.

  “Would you like to join us?” the moderator asked.

  “I… um…” Brilliant, me. I couldn’t even answer a yes or no question. I was a fraud as a writer.

  Quentin nudged me toward the stage.

  “Yeah. I’d like that,” I answered as I walked to the front of the room.

  The staff brought up another chair and made room for me at the table. This was surreal. I was recognizable?

  My shock wore off as we dove into the panel. Answering questions with other writers was a lot of fun. Half an hour into the panel, Jeremy left, his phone pressed to his ear, but he was back a few minutes later, wearing a tiny smile.

  The moderated portion of the panel ended, and people were invited to pass a mic around and ask questions.

  A woman in her early twenties grabbed the mic and stood. “My question is for Sonya. Is it true that your newest book—the one that just went viral—is being made into a movie?”

  I shook my head. That was so unlikely, the thought almost made me laugh. “If it is, no one’s told me.”

  When the panel was over, I lingered a while longer, chatting with people who came to the front of the room, and even signing an eBook reader cover, for someone who had a copy of my book on their device. So. Surreal.

  Jeremy and Quentin approached when we were kicked out to make room for the next panel.

  “You were awesome,” Quentin said.

  “Judith called.” So that was why Jeremy left. “Said you weren’t answering your phone.”

  Judith was our boss and had some strict rules about people not working during their vacations. “Did you tell her why?”

  “Because we confiscated your phone? I told her.” Jeremy nodded. “She approved.”

  I struggled to think of why she’d go to so much trouble to find me. The game didn’t break if something was wrong with one of my stories. Nothing at the company shut down. “Is there a problem?”

  “No problem. Not for you, anyway. She says, when you make it big, she wants a chance to counteroffer before you retire from the industry forever.”

  I laughed but cut it off short when more pieces fit together. Judith wasn’t a call-someone-to-make-a-random-joke kind of person. Especially with the effort she took to make sure I got the message. “It’s a splash. Things will die down by next week, and no one will know who I am again.”

  “Regardless, I told her you’d hear her out if it came to that.”

  “Of course I will.” But it wouldn’t.

  Quentin nodded toward the dealers’ room. “Let’s shop.” He rarely spent much money, but he liked to see what other people were doing with cosplay.

  I was a fan of the cute, unique things, and I almost always spent too much.

  As we wandered through the room, Jeremy was drawn to things I’d never stopped to look at before—model kits, art, and surprise boxes.

  Quentin was drawn to a leather vest that was perfect for one of his next planned costumes. He spent at least five minutes examining it and chatting up the woman who created it.

  “How much?” I asked.

  Quentin shook his head. “It’s gorgeous, and whatever you’re charging isn’t enough, but I can’t swing it right now. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries.” The woman smiled. “I love what you’re wearing, though.”

  “Just let me get it for you,” I said. It was obvious he was in love with the design.

  His scowl was abrupt. “No.”

  Okay… I didn’t know how to react to that.

  “Did you see this?” Jeremy tugged us both away before I could fumble for an answer.

  I filled up my arms with bags of random, adorable stuff, but I stopped short of buying the Castiel artwork on canvas. The rest of the panels were incredible, and the food was overpriced, and by the end of the day, I was pretty sure I never wanted to walk that much again.

  Perfect. Day.

  “I’m going to go someplace with better food options, while you guys get his makeup off,” Jeremy said.

  We agreed that was a good idea, and he took off. He was gone almost an hour, but that made sense, given everything. What surprised me was when he walked in with food on one arm, and two large bags.

  He set the takeout down and handed one bag to each of us. “Purchases are made, Dealers’ Room is closed—no take-backs.”

  I gasped happily when I pulled out my Castiel print. “I love it. Thank you.” I gave Jeremy a hug.

  He squeezed back, holding on a heartbeat longer than I expected, before letting me go.

  Quentin hadn’t said a word. I turned to see him staring at the leather vest from earlier, and pieces clicked into place. Jeremy must have grabbed the print for me so he’d have an excuse to buy that.

  I kind of wished I’d thought of something so sneaky and sweet, but my mind was also squealing kawaii and figuring out where their fictional romance went next.

  Quentin opened his mouth, and Jeremy pressed a finger to his lips. “Unless the next thing you say is, Thank you, I love it, keep it to yourself.”

  Quentin chomped with his teeth, and Jeremy quickly pulled back his hand.

  “Thank you. I love it.” Quentin ran his fingers along the details on the edges and then the stitching. “You shouldn’t ha—”

  “Nuh-uh. Stop talking, and try it on,” Jeremy said.

  Quentin grinned, stripped off his shirt, and tugged on the vest. It wasn’t meant to be worn alone, but that didn’t make the look any less sexy.

  Jeremy licked his index finger, pressed it to Quentin’s bare chest, and made a sizzling sound. “Hot.”

  They were so cute together. How had I never put them in the same room long enough to see this before? Two broken men who had sworn off love, who just needed the right relationship to make them realize the world still had some beauty in it.

  I’d love to have a guy like either Jeremy or Quentin. Gorgeous, caring, intelligent, and geeky. But guys like them didn’t fall for girls like me. I wasn’t even one of the guys; I was background noise. The frumpy girl who always had her head in the clouds.

  Megan would tell me not to think about myself like that, but it wasn’t a cruel thought. It was the reality of the situation, and I’d had enough exes tell me something similar that I knew it was true. Hell, my mother pretty much used those exact words on more than one occasion.

  But Jeremy and Quentin deserved happiness, and the sparks between them were visible. It might be a long shot, but if I could help them heal and find love with each other, I had to try.

  5

  Quentin

  I insisted on taking the roll-away bed the second night in the room. I had no problem sleeping on something cot-like, though I was disappointed the three of us didn’t have an excuse to get naked and crawl into the same bed again.

  I was used to being the first person awake in most situations, so before Sonya and Jeremy got up, I decided to make a quick run to the drug store across the street. As far as I was concerned, Valentine’s Day was a scam. But Sonya was infatuated with that romantic shit, and had been writing short stories about all her favorite characters and their perfect hearts days for the last month.

  The chocolates were mostly gone, but I found a peanut butter and chocolate heart, and an adorably sappy card. I grabbed something for Jeremy too, as a thanks for the vest last night. I hated taking from other people, but I appreciated the thought and the gift itself.

  I felt like a bit of a schmuck, though. Hey, thanks for the high-end leather. Here’s a candy bar.

  I stepped back into the hotel room as Sonya said, “…don’t think you could fit three orc dicks in that room.”

  “Orc dicks aren’t big.” Jeremy gave me a brief wave.

  Sonya shook her head. “No, but the orcs attached to them are.” She turned to me. “Welcome back.”

  “Thanks.” Never a dull moment with these two, apparently. “What did I miss?”

  “I woke up with a new idea for a side-quest, and we were trying to decide if there were any applicable spots for the gangbang, or if we needed to keep the sex boring.” Sonya’s reply was delivered with the same casual tone she used to tell me I was welcome to anything in the cupboards.

  A weird blend of desire and envy flowed through me, that she was so open about sex, but that Jeremy’d been her go-to for the conversation. It made sense, given that they worked together and this was a work conversation. “I assume the one-on-one sex is the boring option?”

  “Yeah.” Sonya’s tone made it sound like that was obvious. “I don’t even know if we’ve got an appropriate designated locale for anything more than press them against the wall and get off.”

  Not a bad image, though every time I’d let a daydream stray into looking like a porno—hey, sexy roommate I just walked in on while you were masturbating, let me help you with that—pressing Sonya to the wall was only the beginning. “As opposed to…?”

  She shrugged. “A little bondage, possibly some pain, and an extra person or two.”

  “Of course.” I’d read her books and knew the kinds of things her mind could dream up, and she was talking about it all so casually.

  What were the odds I could act out a dirty movie or two with her, without losing her friendship and my place to stay in the process? Hell, if she wanted someone else there, if she wanted me to make out with Jeremy first, I was good with that.

  Apparently, I woke up horny. I’d take care of that later. By myself. “By the way, happy Valentine’s Day.” I handed her the gift. “I’m sorry it’s not much.”

  “It’s amazing. Thank you.” Her smile brought the fantasies rushing back, and when she kissed me on the cheek, I wanted to push her onto the bed and take so much more than just a kiss.

  Nope. I needed to stop. I handed Jeremy the candy bar I got him. “Same to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I needed to do something to keep my mind busy. “Do you want me to drive, so the two of you can keep brainstorming?”

  “That’d be awesome.” Jeremy tossed me his keys.

  We checked out, loaded up the SUV, and were back on the road. Was it worth it, driving ten hours each way for one day or so of con fun? Every time, I’d answer yes. I loved shifting into a different character for a while, meeting all the people, and absorbing the atmosphere of the entire event.