When he puts it like that…

  Still, I cross my arms. I hate that I’m so annoyed. But mostly, I don’t want him or her to know the truth. I’ve got to keep that locked up.

  “And I know we have a pact and all,” Chase adds.

  The fucking pact. That’s the thing. That’s the heart of this. I’m the guy getting shafted again. “We made a pact for a reason. So this shit wouldn’t happen,” I say, even though I know on one level this situation isn’t like Selena-slash-Abby, but hell, if it doesn’t feel like I’ve been blindsided a second time.

  “This isn’t the same,” he says, his tone softening at last as he downshifts to apologetic. “Look, we should have made ground rules for public stuff. I should have thought of ground rules for public situations. I didn’t think to do that. That’s on me, man. And I’m sorry.”

  Two words—I’m sorry—and it’s impossible for me to stay mad at my friend.

  Even though I was never mad at him. Not really. I was mad at myself.

  I reach out my hand, it’s all good style. “We’re cool,” I say, letting go of my irritation once and for all.

  He smacks back, obviously relieved as he says, “Let’s just make a new ground rule that we’ll talk about stuff that we don’t have a ground rule for.”

  “A ground rule for a ground rule. How very meta,” I say dryly.

  “And Ryker’s back,” Chase says with a grin, then comes in for a bro hug.

  I clap his back when the sound of footsteps grows loud.

  Too loud.

  Too close.

  Followed by the pad of paws.

  And then one very angry-looking goddess. “Is that what you think? We’re cool?”

  25

  A NEW PACT

  Trina

  It’s one thing to talk about me while they’re playing with me in bed. That’s something they know I like. It’s a bedroom kink they’ve unlocked.

  But to do it behind my back?

  I park my hands on my hips. Like a mob heavy, Nacho sits next to me and barks in my defense. My little enforcer.

  “You’re making plans for me without me?” I ask with narrowed eyes. Maybe I am overstepping as a guest. But so be it. If I cross a line, I’ll stay with—ugh—Cassie.

  That’d be better than two men thinking they can make decisions for me.

  “I thought you were asleep,” Chase says with a gulp.

  “And that makes it okay?”

  “We didn’t want to bother you,” Ryker adds quickly. That’s unlike him, to give a snap, emotional answer.

  But I don’t care.

  “Oh. By all means then, continue arguing about the ground rules for this bad idea. I’m not bothered at all.”

  Ryker groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean that,” he says, sounding devastated.

  But is he devastated I heard them? Or devastated over what he said?

  “What did you mean then?” I point to Ryker. “Because you said it was a bad idea.” I wheel on Chase. “And you mentioned that damn pact. And yet no one asked me a thing about any of this,” I say, with a fire fueled by my own irritation but stoked by this surge of emotions I’ve been feeling tonight. By this new overflow of them for their kindness, their humor, their sexiness. Hell, I’m learning about hockey for them, and now they’re talking about me behind my back, and it feels like it could be Jasper all over again.

  Like everything is a lie.

  Like I’m the one being tricked.

  My lower lip quivers, and clearly I’m not just angry. I’m hurt.

  “Sweetness,” Chase says, advancing toward me.

  I hold up a stop-sign hand. That pet name won’t soften me.

  “Don’t,” I say, sounding wobblier than I want to. “What the hell is this pact for real? That first night you said it was a pact that you wouldn’t let a woman come between you? But is that the truth? Is it like a pact that you could both score me or something?”

  My stomach roils at the awful thought. It’s a whole new way of being used. What if they made a pact they could both fuck me, then discard me after a week?

  You idiot. They did.

  I need to go. I turn around before anyone can answer, but Chase is lightning fast, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around.

  “Oh god, no,” he says, sounding awful, then sighing heavily.

  Ryker comes closer too, cautiously, like they both think I’m a wounded animal. Maybe I am.

  “Trina, we dated the same woman once and we didn’t even know it,” Chase says, blurting that out like it costs him something.

  Wait. What? That’s the pact? “You did? How does that even happen?”

  Chase swallows roughly, looking almost embarrassed, but Ryker takes the question. “I was seeing her and then she went after Chase too. She was playing both of us,” he says, like he’s trying to keep his voice even, but I can tell that was hard for him to say.

  “What do you mean exactly?”

  “It was this whole thing,” Chase says, wincing as he lets go of my wrist. “Like a social experiment. She wanted to do what men have been doing all along,” he says, sketching air quotes. “And she engineered everything so she was dating four guys at the same time to see if she could actually pull it off. She specifically went after the two of us because she knew we were friends and wanted to drive a wedge, and she gave us different names,” he says, and he sounds ashamed. Like he was made a fool. And he was.

  “I hate her,” I say, flipping from hurt to anger in a heartbeat. I despise that she hurt my two guys.

  Chase’s lips quirk up. “You’re possessive.”

  “Well, I don’t like that she fucked with you.” At my feet Nacho barks in solidarity. “My dog doesn’t either.”

  “We didn’t either,” Ryker says, sounding tougher now.

  “So what happened with her?”

  Ryker lets out a long exhale. “She talked about it on some podcast. I never listened but my sister did for us and told me. It sucked, but she never named names. Ivy said it was her thing. She’s kind of a provocateur and she does these different social experiments, usually about dating. Claiming she’s a model, and seeing how men respond. Or pretending she’s rich. Or making herself look older to see how guys respond to older women versus younger women. She never uses names since it’s not about the people—it’s about what she pulls off. It’s this whole thing. It’s her shtick. So we all moved on.”

  My spine tingles. I want to throttle her. “If I ever see her…” But then I focus on the more important issue. Them. What happened to them. “So that’s what the pact was about?”

  “Yeah,” Ryker says with a nod. “I was falling for her and it sucked. Then I thought Chase was fucking my girl, and that messed me up. I was just in a really bad place. When we found out what was actually happening we didn’t want it to ever happen again, so we made a pact to be open about this stuff. Women, dating, and so on.”

  That makes so much more sense now. “I knew the pact was about your friendship but the way you were talking tonight, it sounded different. Like it was about me,” I say softly, letting out a long, relieved exhale.

  Chase tilts his head, stroking my arm again. “In what way?”

  I sigh, feeling like the foolish one now. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do,” Ryker presses, reaching for my other hand and threading his fingers through mine in a reassuring touch. “Be honest. That’s all we have here.”

  Ugh. He’s right. I look up, meeting both their gazes. “I thought it meant you made a pact to see if you could both…fuck me. Like I was a game.”

  Ryker squeezes my hand emphatically. “You are not a game.”

  “You’re not some challenge we gave each other. You’re not a bet,” Chase adds, clearly determined to make me see that.

  I feel stupid for thinking the pact was about me but comforted they don’t see me as a prize to be won or traded. “Good,” I say softly. “And I’m sorry you went through that. But I have to know something. Do you think this is the same thing?”

  I sure hope they don’t because it doesn’t sound at all the same to me.

  Chase jerks his head back and forth, adamantly. “No. Not at all. Neither one of us was together with her in the way we are. This thing with us?” He runs his fingers along my arm, then looks to Ryker and back to me. “It’s totally different. And we’ve all been honest from the start. The photo today just threw me for a loop. I guess I’m fake dating you and he’s not, and that’s weird,” he says, sounding so apologetic.

  I hate that he was worked up.

  I hate that Ryker was hurt.

  And I hate, too, that we have to worry so much about what others might think.

  But I try to picture my parents’ reaction if I told them I was dating two men, and it’s too uncomfortable an image. My mom would want to know who was putting a baby in me. My sister would kidnap me and steal me away to deprogram my latest manifestation of hot mess-ness. “It’d be weird if I was fake dating both of you,” I admit, kind of sad, unexpectedly.

  “That might be a little strange,” Chase says with a helpless shrug, and that’s the reality.

  “My family would flip out,” I say heavily.

  What we have here works behind closed doors. I don’t think it could ever work in public. But behind closed doors, I want to feel like we’re all in this together. Even if it only lasts a few more nights. So I lift my chin and say, “I’m a part of this. Whatever this thing is. We’re all part of it. Don’t make rules about me without me.”

  Chase nods, obvious contrition in his gaze. “We won’t.”

  Ryker comes closer. “I’m sorry. Forgive us.”

  I love the way he says I and us in the same vein. Like all those parts fit perfectly together. They seem to, for me.

  I laugh and all my anger is gone. “You’re forgiven. But now you can show me how sorry you are in bed.”

  Chase’s eyes sparkle. “Anything you want.”

  I tug on Chase’s loosened tie and Ryker’s knotted one at the same time. I catch the scent of ocean and forest drifting off them respectively. “Have I mentioned how much I like this whole suit thing?”

  Chase’s lips quirk up in a lopsided grin. “You didn’t have to.”

  Ryker’s eyes lock with mine. “It was obvious the night we met you.”

  Well then. Way to know my kinks.

  A few minutes later they’re out of their suits, dressed only in boxer briefs, and they’re sliding under the covers with me. Ryker strokes my hair and Chase holds my hand and my dog settles against my chest.

  This isn’t on my list.

  But maybe it should be.

  Because this position settles my fears completely. It soothes my heart and my mind.

  I feel wanted in a whole new way because neither one of them asks me for sex tonight. Instead, they’re giving me comfort. And that does something to my heart I wasn’t expecting. It expands for both of them.

  26

  MORNING WOOD

  Trina

  My rooster alarm doesn’t wake me up. It won’t go off for another thirty minutes. But two roosters do. Seriously, how do men even sleep with these hard-ons?

  There’s a very ambitious one nudging my stomach. And, yup. Another stick poking my back, and that one’s quite unyielding too.

  But tongue wins. Nacho’s licking my face, which is code for get me the hell out now or I’ll whizz on the bed.

  Quietly, I grab my dog and make like an inchworm down the bed so I don’t wake the two sleeping beasts.

  I pad out of the bedroom, tug on a sweatshirt and slides, and leash up my guy.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m back and brushing my teeth.

  Well, you never know.

  I check the time on my phone, and I don’t have to be at work for two more hours, so I plop Nacho in his brand-new bed, giving him a stuffed monkey to get busy with.

  I return to the…sex chamber. I could use a little more cuddling time. And maybe I could use a little chance to share my fresh morning breath with my two favorite men.

  But when I walk into Chase’s room, I stop in my tracks. Huh. The bed is empty.

  Darn.

  I guess I’ll…

  Oh…

  There’s a hand on my back, gliding up my shirt.

  Then, lips come down on the side of my neck, and I feel the brush of a beard.

  I shiver.

  “Come back to bed,” Ryker says, in a sexy morning rumble that comes with minty breath.

  “We want you to think about us all day today at work,” Chase whispers in my other ear.

  And hello fresh breath too. Now, I’m doubly turned on.

  “If you insist,” I say.

  “We really fucking do,” Ryker says.

  “Besides,” Chase adds, curving a hand over my butt, “if you want us both at the same time, you need to do four first.”

  I shiver but tense at the same time. Four is like the butt stuff starter pack. I want them both fucking me at the same time—that’s lucky number six—but I’ve never so much as taken a finger where the sun doesn’t shine, so I figured we better practice.

  Hence, four. Butt play.

  And some fingers and toys seem necessary since their roosters are announcing their intentions to break me in half. Both men are crowding me in the doorway, boxers still on but rock-hard erections pressed against me.

  Ryker grabs my hair, tugs a handful to the side, and kisses my neck hard, all while rubbing that big cock against my hip.

  Chase roams a hand over my breast, the other hand curving over my ass, his dick saying a demanding hello to my hip too.

  I’m snug between them. Exactly where I want to be.

  I sigh into their twin touches, this new kind of everywhere foreplay I’ve become addicted to in a few short days. I had no idea I’d like being flooded with pleasure so much. Crowded this intensely. On each side, they kiss my face, my ears, my jawline. Then, Chase grabs my chin and yanks me toward him, giving me a view of his attire.

  Hello, tie.

  How did I miss this? He’s wearing that tie from last night, with only his boxer briefs.

  I jerk my gaze to Ryker. He’s dressed the same—boxer briefs and his tie. And I’m ten times more turned on. I tug on his neckwear, then Chase’s. I might even purr.

  “How about we do four and five?” Chase says.

  I didn’t see that combo coming but I gasp out a very enthusiastic yes. After all, five is all about trust.

  These guys don’t fuck around. Ryker’s mouth is on my pussy in seconds, while Chase’s just started tying me to the headboard of his bed.

  My bearded beast laps me up like I’m his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. In no time, I’m writhing against Ryker’s face while Chase tugs on my wrists.

  Oh, also, I’m on my elbows and my knees, and my ass is up in the air. Chase’s tying my right wrist to one side of the bed, my left to the other, while Ryker’s licking me. I am spread wide. “I don’t know how I can stay like—”

  I swallow my words when Ryker sucks on my clit ravenously.

  Holy fuck.

  Ryker’s voracious in the morning. He spreads my cheeks apart, then buries his face in my pussy, rubbing that dangerously sexy beard against me till I’m moaning indecently loud.

  “There. That should hold,” Chase says evenly as he ties the last knot, like I’m not being eaten out like my kitty’s a starving man’s meal.

  My thighs are shaking. My knees are buckling. And my arms are stretched wide across the bed.

  What even is this position? Upside-down spread eagle?

  Ryker’s tongue goes deep in me, and my brain goes offline. “Oh god,” I cry out.

  Then, out of nowhere, there’s a buzzing sound.

  God, I’m so close already. What are they doing to me? I turn my face on the bed, my cheek smushed into the sheets, but all I can see is Chase moving away from the bed with something in his hand.

  Then I don’t really care where he’s gone because Ryker’s groaning and flicking, lapping and devouring, all while his powerful hands are spreading me open till I can’t take the buildup of pleasure inside me.

  It’s too much.

  Too powerful.

  Too good.

  I’m sweating and shouting, and then coming so fucking hard I don’t know if these are words I’m making up or if I’m just babbling.

  Everything blurs, and the world shatters into bright and beautiful colors. But there’s no let-up.

  Because the second Ryker eases away, Chase moves behind me on the bed, kneeling between my spread legs as he slides his fingers through my slickness.

  “Are you going to finger—”

  “Trust me, baby. Just trust me,” he commands, standing between my spread thighs now.

  And I let go as the answer comes. He’s not fingering me. He’s using my orgasm as lube.

  For my ass.

  He spreads my own arousal right there while Ryker grabs a toy from the nightstand.

  How many toys did they get for me? Ah, who cares? When Ryker gets on the bed next to me, he roams a possessive hand down my back. “The way you taste in the morning drives me fucking crazy,” he praises, then turns on a bullet vibrator.

  My belly tightens with anticipation.

  “Morning sex just hits different, doesn’t it, Ryker?” Chase asks as he rubs the hot pink vibrator against my ass.

  “Are you going to fuck me with that this morning?” I ask, both nervous and aroused.

  “Shhh. Sweetness. You like surprises, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I say, but the words are slurry when he pushes it a little deeper, right as Ryker slides a big hand down my stomach, heading straight for my clit.

  Holy fuck.

  Ryker’s playing my clit with a bullet vibe while Chase’s introducing my ass to sex, and I can’t do a thing but offer my aching center to them.

  My wet, aching center and my newly eager ass.