Chapter 38
Lucy
“Oh my god, this guy has no idea what the hell he’s doing.”
At first, when I put this reality dating show on, the guys feigned that they were not interested in watching with me. Which was fine—I had my bowl of popcorn and a box of Red Hots, and Julian to text about the betrayals and sexy, scandalous moments.
Dane went to the office to take a call, while Cole had his laptop out on the couch, working on something, and Nico was prepping something in the kitchen. Now, just one episode in, they’re all back in the living room with me, watching. Even Cole has pushed a headphone off one ear to frown at the TV.
I’m sitting in the middle of the couch, Nico on one side of me and Dane on the other. Cole is on the love seat, his laptop on his knees, his shaggy hair peeking out from under his headphones.
I raise an eyebrow and bump my knee against Nico’s socked foot in response to his outburst. “What, you think you could do better?”
On the screen, one of the contestants is trying to woo a woman with his idea of a date. He might be a little awkward, but he did bring her roses, which is a plus in my book.
Maybe it’s cheesy, but I’ve always loved red roses. Always liked how classic they look, even if it makes me unoriginal.
Dane lets out a puff of air, and when I glance at him, I’m struck again with how precious it is to see him like this.
Dane Rourke, in his pajamas, wearing his glasses.
His pajamas are more formal than Nico and Cole’s—always a matching set—but his hair isn’t styled, and his feet are bare.
“Anyone could do better than that. He’s not even really paying attention to her. ”
“Wait,” I sit up and hit the button on the weird, fancy touch-screen remote to pause the show. Turning fully to Nico and Dane, gesturing at the TV, I say, “You really think you could do better than that? They’re going on a carriage ride!”
Nico rolls his eyes, thrusts a hand through his blonde waves. They’re already in disarray, since it’s the end of the day. “I plan the best dates. Women enjoy being surprised. They like it when you woo them, with originality.”
Dane lets out a noise, and Nico turns to him, eyes narrowing. “What’s that sound for?”
Shrugging, Dane says, “Anyone can plan a good date. It’s what you do on the date that matters.”
“It feels like you’re challenging me, Rourke”
“I am not challenging you. Hawthorne,” Dane says, waiting a beat before he adds, “But if I was, there would be no challenge.”
Dane and Nico launch into a debate about their dating skills, and I can’t help it—I giggle. This is the most I’ve seen them act like boys since meeting them. And that’s saying a lot, considering Nico’s general demeanor.
They glance at me, and I see their expressions soften, some of that competition washing away. Then, Cole speaks.
“If we’re talking about Lucy,” he says, with a simple air of knowing, like how he says everything. “I’d take her on the best date.”
That riles Dane and Nico up again, and they’re going back and forth once more, arguing about who would give me the best time on a date. It’s an interesting feeling, to have men argue over you, especially when you already belong to all of them.
“So, let’s do it,” Nico says, standing now, stopping his pacing in front of the TV. For everything it’s inspired, the show is suddenly forgotten. Hazel eyes sparkling a light green in this light, he says, “Each of us takes Lucy on a date. She’ll pick a winner.”
They all turn to look at me, and I hold my hands up, “As much as I would love to go on a date with the three of you, it’s not like I want to choose just one—that’s the whole point—”
“You want to go on the dates,” Cole says, shrugging, and though he’s acting nonchalant, I can see a streak of competitive attitude in him, too. “So, let us take you on them.”
Again, they’re all looking at me, and I can’t stop myself from laughing. This is silly, and frivolous, and I get the feeling it might just have something to do with my melancholy over not being with my parents over Christmas.
The holiday is next week. By this time, at home, we would be having our annual baking weekend, in which we make every kind of sweet imaginable—thumb-print cookies, chocolate-coated pretzels, turtles, gingerbread men, chocolate chip—then divide them up into tins so everyone goes home with an equal share.
“Lucy?” Dane prompts, leaning forward and setting his hand on my knee. “What do you think? It could be fun.”
That, more than anything, softens me to the idea.
Since I stopped working at Ember, I’ve seen less of Dane and Cole than Nico, and less of Dane than Cole.
He’s always working, and I get the sense that when they get to the end of a business’s life cycle, he’s the one with the hardest time letting go.
Maybe we can help each other. Distract each other.
“Fine,” I relent, “but I am not picking—”
I’m cut off when Dane leans on his knee and kisses me. His hand slips around to the back of my head and cradles me there, fingers tangled in my hair, and I open my mouth for him on instinct. He slides his tongue against mine, and our breathing gets quick.
And I’m acutely aware of the heavy stares on us, the rustling of Nico and Cole moving, sitting up, interested in what’s happening. It heightens my arousal, makes my core tighten further, and then I’m grinding my clit up against Dane’s hardening cock.
He pulls back quickly, breathing hard, but when Cole tries to move forward, to take over, Dane holds out an arm. “Hold on.”
Then, he stands and disappears.
I’m breathing hard, blinking back stars in my eyes from the kiss, and when I look at Cole and Nico, they’re both on the edge. Nico stands on the other side of the coffee table, running his hands through his hair, and Cole has discarded his laptop, swung his legs around.
Dane returns with a matte black box, and my stomach flips.
He hands the box to Cole and grabs an armchair from the corner of the room, dragging it over. Nico must get his meaning, because they work together, and suddenly there are three armchairs facing the couch where I still sit, breathing hard, flushed, waiting.
Dane sits on the far left, Cole in the middle, and Nico on the right. Cole opens the box. “Should I pick?”
Glancing at him quickly, Dane says, “They’re your creations. Which one would you like to see Lucy use on herself?”
I swallow, sit up, blink at them. My nipples are tight, my skin blazing, gaze jumping between the three men before me. Nico’s hand rests on his cock, as does Dane’s. Cole is staring down into the box with a serious expression, the same one he wears when thinking about a “problem.”
Finally, he pulls out a toy, looks up, and meets my eyes while passing it to me. My arms move slowly, languidly, like I’m under water, as I reach out to take it.
I’ve seen this one before. It was in the box Dane gave me, but I wasn’t sure how to use it and didn’t want to look it up. Besides, the other two worked just fine for me.
Now, I turn it over in my hands, marveling at how the weight of it, the smooth, velvety feeling of the silicone, reminds me of them. Of holding their cocks in my hands, running the pad of my thumb just over the heads.
Cole makes a noise, and when I look up, I realize they’re all watching me. And I’m getting turned on just by holding this thing in my hand.
I don’t really want the toy—I want them. Want their bodies on me, against me. But I can see what Dane is doing, that this is another one of his power plays. That now, if they watch me touch myself, not getting to touch me, it’s going to make the next time even better.
Their attention makes me feel bold. Slowly, I set the toy on the couch and stand, stripping my shirt up over my head.
Again, I feel their attention on my skin, on my breasts, achy with wanting. I throw the shirt to the side and step out of my shorts, my underwear. When I’m bare before them, I sit back on the couch—making sure to sit on a blanket, which maybe is not so sexy, but I don’t want to get the couch dirty.
Sitting back, I spread my legs, run my palms down the insides of my thighs, palm the soft flesh just there. It makes me shiver, and I imagine my hands are their hands. I think about Cole and Dane holding my legs open for Nico, and I feel myself getting wetter, wonder if they can see it happening.
“You’re so beautiful,” Nico mutters, palming his cock over the fabric of his pants.
Cole stares at the toy, “I want to see it make you feel good, Lucy.”
Dane demands, “Touch yourself.”
So, I do, starting with my fingers first, I close my eyes and imagine again that it’s one of them touching me.
I imagine I’m back in my room at Aunt Ruby’s trying out the toys for the first time, but this time I imagine Dane, Cole, and Nico are there.
I imagine they can see what I’m thinking, my curiosity about someone penetrating me from behind.
Now, I know what that feels like.
“Fuck.” Nico’s voice.
“Keep going,” Cole rasps.
“Use the toy, Lucy.” Dane insists.
And so, I do. I pick it up and turn it over, find the tiny indentation that’s clearly the on button. It comes to life in my hand, warming and vibrating gently, making goose bumps erupt over my skin, dashing along my forearms and to my elbows.
Biting my lip, I follow my whims, run the thing over my breasts, lingering on my nipples. It feels better than I thought it would, and I let my head drop against the back of the couch, arching my back.
This time, it’s harder to tell their swearing and comments apart. Christ, and fucking hell, and so sexy, baby. Keep going.
I do, dragging the toy down between my breasts and over my stomach. I tease myself with it, thinking about the way Nico kisses around me before ever touching my clit. He starts with kisses on the outside, over my pubic hair, on my thighs. Then, slowly, he delves in, bit by bit.
So, that’s what I do with the toy. I tease myself so well that when I slip and accidentally bump it against my clit, I let out a moan.
There’s movement, then Dane says, “Don’t touch her. We’re watching for now.”
Someone growls, and I think it must be Nico. Even this interaction sends thrills rolling through me. Like I’m a showgirl, or on a stage. The entertainment, and they’re not allowed to touch.
Widening my legs, I drag the toy through the wetness collecting at my opening, gasping again. Picking my head up from the back of the couch, I look out, connecting my gaze with Nico’s first.
I’m not sure where it comes from. Maybe it’s because I’m comfortable with them, or because I feel most myself at this moment, but I open my mouth and start to talk, start to say things that aren’t completely cringe-y.
“You want to touch me, don’t you, Nico?” I purr, watching his nostrils flare, his hand tighten on his cock, which is now out of his pants, firmly in his fist. I lick my lips, bite the bottom one, skip my gaze down to his cock before sliding the toy near my entrance again.
When its head slips in, like it’s meant to be there, I realize it is. The toy is shaped, kind of, like a hook, with a little nub at the top. When I experiment, sliding it inside myself, I realize exactly what that nub is for.
The hook shape is just like Nico’s fingers, pressing at that part inside of me—it must be the g-spot, right?
—with each stroke. While I do that, the little nub circles over my clit like a tongue, the pressure consistent yet soft.
That must be the nano-bots, the technology that allows it to adapt to my body fluidly.
“Oh,” I let out, body starting to shake. “Oh—fuck.”
At this, Cole is the one letting out a noise, and I lock onto his eyes, “Cole, oh god, you made this for me, didn’t you? When you designed this toy, you knew I was going to be sliding it into my pussy, wishing it was you—”
Cole chokes and quickens his pace on his cock, and when I turn to look at Dane, his eyes flash.
“I thought about you,” I admit, gasping against the pleasure, my whole body practically having an orgasm now. We’re all nearing the apex of something. “The first time I used the toys, I imagined you, punishing me at the office, bending me over my desk and pulling my skirt up—”
Letting out a sound between a choke and a sob, my words cut off with the first mounting wave of my orgasm. The men let out their own noises—of pleasure, of restraint, of wanting. They want to touch me, and I wish they were, and the whole thing is so good because of it.
This is why Dane does what he does. He knows how to make the companies work well, and he knows how to make this work well.
I cry out when I come, ColeNicoDane, again and again.
I ramble about wanting their cocks in me and even include some information I gathered online—mindless, shaking with the orgasm that just keeps coming, the toy adjusting to me and drawing it out.
I tell them I want to go airtight, that I want Cole in my ass, Nico in my mouth, Dane in my pussy.
I describe the ways they could have me in the hot tub, how I want to bend for them. Everything I want to try, now that we’re together, and we have the time to try new things.
I’ve never done any of it, never tried anal, let alone two men at once, never really had sex with all three of them at once—but it does the trick, making them grunt and growl, and I can hear their orgasms following the same cadence as mine.
Sometime after it’s over, I blink my eyes open slowly, taking them in, each slumped in their chairs, breathing hard. It’s the most intense sexual experience of my life, and other than that first kiss, we never even touched.
Nico is the first to regain himself, sitting up and running his clean hand through his hair. Staring at me, he says, in a low voice, “Oh, we are going to try airtight for you, Lucy. And that’s a promise.”