I lived in the dark for three years. My whole world revolved around the whims and happiness of three men. It was just a trip into the forbidden. A way out of a bad situation and forward into nothingness.
Quin, with his easy smile and charming good looks. He was always there for me… Until he wasn’t.
Smith, and his dispassionate attention. He was never there for me and he never regretted it.
Bric, the one who listened, but only to himself. Self-absorbed, self-obsessed, and self-serving. He was never the one I wanted.
And now he might be the only one I have left.
It was good while it lasted, I guess. But it could’ve been so much more. It could’ve been so much better.
And that’s why I’m turning back.
“So then what happened?” Bric asks.
We’re sitting at our booth in the White Room. Before I left, I’d sit in the middle of the bench, Quin would sit across from me in a chair, and Bric would sit to my left.
Bric is still to my left, Quin isn’t here yet—if he’s coming at all—and Adley is in her baby seat on my right.
Everything is familiar—but off.
“Then he went to bed.”
“What’d you do?”
“I sat there on the couch for a while trying to figure out what happened.”
“What did you come up with?” Bric is looking very intently at me. Like everything I’m saying is critically important.
“He hate-fucked me, that’s what I came up with, Bric!”
“Rochelle,” Bric says, throwing me one of those Don’t overreact looks.
“I’m serious. There’s no other explanation for it. He hate-fucked me. Revenge fuck. Whatever you want to call it. That’s what happened last night.” I sigh and try not to feel depressed and sad. “And then this morning I got out of bed to go check on Adley when she woke up, and when I came back, he was gone.”
“Gone?” Bric asks. “Where’d he go?”
“Just left,” I say. “I texted him. Asked if he’d be here for breakfast. And he never texted back.”
“He’s just mad,” Bric says.
“I know.” I huff. “He told me that last night too. He spelled it out very clearly. He was worried about me. Sad about my leaving. But then when I came back—”
“Now he’s just angry.”
“It’s a pretty typical reaction,” Bric says.
“I realize that. Which is why I’m not going to make a big deal about this. But I don’t know if this is going to work, Bric. He might not want me. He might just want to hurt me. Exactly the way I hurt him.”
“No,” Bric says, like I’m being ridiculous.
“I’m not being ridiculous,” I say. “Maybe he’s not out to hurt me. But he’s doing something, Bric. He’s playing a game, but I’m pretty sure we’re not all playing the same game.”
“He’s mad, Rochelle. You have to expect that. He’s gonna come around.”
“What does that mean? Come around? Do you really think he’s gonna fall back in love with me the way he was? Because I don’t. I think he’s here for us. Me, you, and him together. And that’s all.”
Bric rubs his hand across his scratchy jaw as he thinks this over, so I check on Adley. She fell asleep in the car on the way over here and hasn’t woken up yet. Bric is still thinking.
“I don’t want an us, Bric.”
He looks me in the eye and says. “I do. But I get it. And I’m fine with you and Quin getting your little happy ending. But I’m telling you, Rochelle, he’s just trying to protect himself right now and the best way to let him work that out and ensure you two get back together is to have an us.”
“He said he doesn’t trust me.”
“He has a good reason,” Bric counters.
“I know that,” I say, starting to get angry. “I understand that. But the whole point of us doing this… game… or whatever it is, was so that you can help me figure this out. I want him, Bric. You’re supposed to help me.”
But as soon as the words come out of my mouth I realize how stupid that is. I trust no one and I have very good reasons for that. I’ve learned over the course of my life that people are selfish. People are out for themselves. People are liars. I have a lot of experience in being lied to.
Elias Bricman definitely fits all those assumptions I have about people. And then some.
Quin takes off his tie and throws it on the floor, his fingers already unbuttoning his shirt. He and Rochelle stare at each other for a second, but then she unties the belt of her robe and lets it slide over her shoulders.
Her body is so fucking hot. She’s all curvy now from having the baby. And her tits are huge. Her nipples large and round. So different than they were before.
I walk up behind her and start playing with them, studying Quin’s face as he watches us. He walks forward, taking his shirt off and dropping it on a chair as he passes. His hands cover mine and we play with her tits together.
“See,” he says, leaning down to whisper in her mouth. “All better now. Last night is over. Let it go, Rochelle. Just be here with us and let it go.”
“I want to,” she says. “But I need you to know—”
“Shhh,” Quin says, silencing her lips with a kiss. “No talking. You need to behave or I’ll have Bric bend you over and spank your pussy.”
His threat to her excites me. I’ve never played too hard with her. Never did much more than introductory bondage. But I’m totally up for making changes. “Feel free to mouth off, Rochelle.”
She laughs and reaches up, slipping her hand around the back of my neck to draw me closer. Her head tilts and I start kissing her neck. Quin’s hands are still on mine, both of us vying for the privilege of playing with her tits. Quin continues kissing her lips, but he slips his hands from under mine and reaches for my suit coat, pulling it down my shoulders. I let it slip to the floor and back off one step so I can loosen my tie.
Quin grins at me, even as he kisses Rochelle.
This part, at least, feels very familiar.
“Tie her up,” Quin says.
I squint my eyes at him for a second.
“Tier her up,” he repeats. “I want her tied to that bar.” He nods his head up towards the ceiling at the metal pipe bars I have hanging in various places over the bed, indicating the one that runs lengthwise from the foot of the bed to the head. “You have rope here?”
“Well,” I say, looking around. “Sure.”
“Tell him what you want, Rochelle,” Quin says. He’s grasping her face between his thumb and fingers, holding her tight as he makes her look in my direction. “Tell him.”
I think I’m a little startled at this new development. “Rochelle?”
She looks at Quin, then me… and nods. “OK.”
“You know what he’s doing?” I ask her.
“What am I doing?” Quin coos in her ear as he resumes playing with her tits.
“Punishing me,” she says.
He chuckles. And then he gets dead serious and says, “Fuck, yes, I’m punishing you. But it’s your choice, Rochelle. So if you’re not into it, just say so.”
“And don’t blame you tomorrow if it all goes to shit?” she asks.
I have to hand it to her for not cowering.
“If you think multiple orgasms is ‘going to shit,’ well. So be it.” Quin waits for her answer. He wants to hurt her right now. And he’s going to use me to do it because he’s not into the punishment stuff—and I am.
I let go of Rochelle and walk over to one of the bedside tables. Inside is a coil of soft rope, some lube, a blindfold, handcuffs, and a few other essentials.
I get the rope, slip the lube in my pocket, and close the drawer, uncoiling the rope as I walk back over to them. “How do you want her?” I ask.
“Hanging. Heels high.”
“Jesus, Quin,” I say.
He shrugs at me. “She can say no.” He turns to look at Rochelle. “Do you wanna say no?”
“I’ll let you know when to stop,” she says. Defiance is written all over her face. He’s challenging her to tell him no. She’s challenging him to keep going.
Quin grins. “Good. Then let’s begin.”
Well, this is about to get interesting.
Stepping closer to Rochelle, I grab the two ends of the rope together, then slide it through my fingertips until I find the center point. “Have I ever tied you this way?”
“Once or twice,” Rochelle says. She looks at Quin. “But never to a bar above my head. And never on tiptoes.”
Quin just smiles.
“Make a fist and put your wrists together,” I say. She obeys and I begin looping the rope, tying it off with a square knot. I hand the other end to Quin’s outstretched hand. He reaches up to the bar positioned over the end of the bed, loops the rope around it, pulls—so Rochelle has to go up on her toes—and then ties it tightly to the metal pipe.
Rochelle lets out a small squeal and when I check her, there’s fear in her eyes.
God, I love it.
And she knows it. She knows how much I enjoy the bondage.
“You deserve this,” I tell her. “Don’t you?”
She nods her head and says, “Yes.”
“You were very, very bad when you left last year, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” she says again. Her eyes leave mine for a moment to look for Quin.
He’s sitting on the end of the bed, his pants open, fisting his cock. “Keep going,” Quin says.
I place my hands on Rochelle’s hips and turn her. She swivels on her toes, until she’s facing the bed. And Quin.
I want him to see her reactions.
I want her to see his too.
“How many spankings do you deserve, Rochelle?” I ask her.
“As many as pleases you,” she replies.
I almost laugh. Where the hell did she learn that answer?
But Quin clears his throat, telling me to stay professional.
Fine. He wants her punished, I’ll punish her until he’s had enough.
This is one of our favorite ways to fuck her, and she knows just what to do when I sit down on the couch. Her hand is on my dick, her body leaning over into my lap as she takes me in her mouth and begins to suck.
The real show for me is Quin. Who presses his hard, erect cock against her ass, both hands on her hips. I watch his face. I wait for it. That look. The way he closes his eyes when he first enters her.
When he opens them again, he’s staring at me.
This is why we play the game, and Rochelle is the only girl we’ve ever had who never has to be told what to do. Never has to think twice. Never has to second-guess herself.
We are a team of professionals.
I place a hand on Rochelle’s back, stroking her softly as Quin fucks her slowly. He pushes in hard and deep, then withdraws in increments. Slow. Too slow for Rochelle. She wants more now. We all want more now. But Quin will deny us until he’s ready. He enjoys his time inside her. Savors it, just like we savored that preliminary kiss.
When I know I’m getting close, I grab Rochelle by the upper arm and tug on her. She responds just the way she should. Climbing onto my lap, straddling my thighs. Quin’s dick slips out of her, slick and shiny from her wet pussy.
I feel that wetness a second later when she grabs my cock in her hand, guides me to her entrance, and lowers herself.
When I look at Quin, he’s watching me the same way I did him.
Quin repositions himself as I tug Rochelle down to my chest and wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly against me. I love the way her breasts press against my skin. I love the way her hair tickles my shoulders. I love the way she pants her hot breath into the sensitive skin just under my ear.
Quin starts with a finger in her ass. He pumps her and I feel it. I can feel his fingertips against my shaft as she moves her hips over mine in small circles. I want to tell him to stop fucking around and just shove his cock inside her ass, but I don’t. I’m patient. The best part of all this is the expectations.
But then the waiting is over—too soon, almost. And the tip of Quin’s cock is pressing against her ass. There is no smacking of her cheeks. No dirty words to turn her on more. We like it that way too, and we’ll do it that way next time, for sure. But this time, words aren’t necessary. There is no need to pull her hair, or slap her face, or choke her neck—even though she will beg us to do all those things next time.
This time we don’t fuck her. We love her.
It seems to last forever and then it’s over too quick.
I come inside her, wondering if she is on birth control, and not caring one bit.
Quin waits until I’m done, then kneels on the couch, urging her to suck him, and then he comes in her mouth.
She swallows, her pussy clamping down on my dick as she comes too, my semen mixing with her climax, leaking out, dripping down my shaft and over my balls.
We are a hot, sweaty mess of perfection as Quin leans us. Our bodies tangled up the way they were always meant to be. Arms and legs wrapped around each other as we kiss her, and each other.
In this round of the game, we are, once again, all three winners.
ABOUT J.A. HUSS:
JA Huss is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.
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