29. Back to Reality
BACK TO REALITY
I sleep for so long, I’m not even sure the last time I got that much uninterrupted sleep. I wake up feeling refreshed, and it isn’t even strange that I’m not in my own home.
Don’t get me wrong, I prefer my space with my books, furniture, and cats. But their place feels effortlessly comfortable in a way I didn’t expect.
There’s a note on the pillow next to mine and I grab it.
Had to go to work early. Make yourself at home, see you later tonight.
-B
We didn’t even have sex last night, we just cuddled, ate, watched TV, and shared each other’s company. It felt so nice, better than nice, actually.
My feelings for Ben are slowly uncomplicating themselves, while also making the situation ten times more complicated in itself.
I like him. No, I really like him. I want more cuddles, movie nights, and tender moments. I think he wants the same too, but there’s another factor. Gavin.
I have no idea how he feels, and that makes everything so complicated. There’s no way I’m willing to let this arrangement go, but I’m also not sure how much longer I can keep holding back.
After I wash my face and brush my teeth, I’m wearing nothing but Gavin’s shirt as I head into the kitchen.
An embarrassing yelp squeaks out of me as I clutch my chest and stare at a disheveled Gavin, sitting at their small dining room table, drinking a cup of coffee.
He’s only wearing his underwear and Jesus Christ. These men have turned me into a horny nutcase and I do my best not to ogle him for too long.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He smirks, taking a sip. “Want a cup?”
“Please,” I say, taking the seat next to him.
He makes me a cup of coffee and places it in front of me before sitting back down in his seat.
“The security guys will be done this afternoon,” he says, and he doesn’t sound pleased.
Does Gavin Carlson want me to stay here? I mean, sure, he’s the one who extended the offer in the first place. But he’s been absent this whole time.
“You don’t sound happy about it,” I remark, taking a sip of my coffee.
Needs more sugar.
Gavin stands, grabbing a small white jar, and placing it in front of me. How the fuck did he know I needed more sugar? I swear I didn’t think I made a face when I took a sip.
“I like you where I know you’re safe,” he says, which just has all different parts of me squealing.
“Well, I’m right here,” I say, standing up and walking between his legs.
He adjusts his body to accommodate mine, his strong legs spreading wide as I grip his firm shoulders.
“You are. Right here, safe at my house.” His hands grip my hips and I search his eyes, trying to find some puzzle pieces to slot it all together.
We don’t feel like just friends, not after the other night. None of this feels casual, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to be the one to change the pace of things and potentially ruin everything.
“Safe in your house, ready to do anything you want me to do,” I whisper.
He fists the way too large shirt covering my body and drags me closer, causing me to stumble against his body. I expect him to tell me to get on my knees and fuck my face, but instead he tugs my face down against his.
The legs of his chair scrape against the tile and I find myself straddling his lap.
Gavin and I have never had sex this way. He prefers fucking me from behind, or at least I thought.
He kisses me roughly, it feels like a claim in a way, that I’m his, and isn’t that a dream?
There’s no toys, no bondage, no club. It’s just us and it has my arousal climbing by tenfold.
I nearly dig my nails into his shoulders, like I’m holding on for dear life, praying that this moment doesn’t end. To my surprise, it doesn’t. He just keeps kissing me, his large hands grabbing my hips like a lifeline.
There are no dirty words, only our mouths on one another as he lifts the shirt up slightly, before freeing his cock from his briefs. He drags the head through my wetness and I stretch on my tiptoes, slinking down on every inch he gives me.
He doesn’t stop kissing me and it isn’t rough or rushed sex, either. I’m nearly warming his cock as I sit on his lap and we make out like we just discovered the act of french kissing.
Gavin grabs my ass, making me shift against his length. I’m moaning into his mouth, just as he’s panting into mine.
This feels different. This feels like everything I knew but was trying to shove down. The sex without feelings was good, phenomenal even. But this? This feeling curling around my heart and squeezing while our bodies are connected feels revolutionary.
I’m falling in love with both brothers and have no idea if they feel the same. They have the power to break me, and that scares me even more than this feeling I couldn’t stop if I tried.
But when we part from our kiss, Gavin nearly lifts me up and down on his hard length and I look into his eyes.
I’m not sure it’s unrequited at all.
That look in his eye, and his hand sliding between us to rub against my clit, has me falling over the edge in every way possible.
Gavin follows suit, bucking his hips and fucking into me, a masculine whimper slipping through his lips as he rests his head against my collarbone. I keep my arms wrapped around him.
Neither of us moves until his cock is soft and I shift my body so that I’m sitting on his thighs.
“You should come to The Bahamas for Labor Day with us. It’s something we do every year with our family,” he says, and I’m surprised.
He said nothing during sex and the first thing he said post-coital bliss is that he wants me to fly out of the country with his family.
I swallow thickly and search his eyes. “The semester starts before labor day.”
“My parents have a private plane. You wouldn’t miss any of your classes and it’s over the weekend.”
“You want me to come?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
I pinch his shoulder and he grins. “Your parents will be there?”
That has him making a scrunched face. “I’ll get me, you, and Ben a rental. We won’t even stay at the house.”
“What exactly would you tell your parents about my reasoning being there?” I ask, mostly prying for my own knowledge.
“That you’re our friend?” he says it more as a question and I wonder why.
The magical moment feels gone as lead sinks in my stomach. “Right. Can I think about it?”
“Of course you can think about it,” he says, and he almost looks remorseful.
“Let’s shower and maybe you can take me home before you have to go to work?” I ask.
I need breathing room, time to think. Can I keep doing this knowing that my feelings are only going to grow stronger when Gavin still just sees me as a friend?
There’s no Ben without Gavin, and I wouldn’t want there to be.
I can’t simply make myself stop feeling this connection between both of them, but I’m also greedy and want every moment I can get.
“Yeah. I’ll take you home,” he says like he’s unhappy about it, lifting me off his lap and leading me to his bathroom.
I try to ignore the fact his cum is dripping down my thigh, almost like I’m ignoring the fact that I’ve fallen hard and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back up.
Being back in my home feels odd. It feels quiet. But it was necessary. I need to figure my shit out, plus the semester starts back up soon.
Luckily, my plans are ready to go with years of teaching under my belt, but somehow this feels different. Usually there’s a mix of mourning that the summer is over along with the excitement of having new students, but this year I find myself pouting more than usual.
This was the best summer of my life, and it was because of Ben and Gavin.
I’m not sure why, but it feels like when the summer ends, so does everything we had together.
I know how I feel, but have no idea where they stand.
Beyond that, what does it even matter when I’m not sure how this translates into the real world?
What would people say? Think?
As much as I wish I didn’t give a shit about the optics, I do. Yet, part of me feels like if they told me this was beyond a friendship, it would be worth getting past.
Ugh, it’s all too much.
So instead of doing anything about it, I head to my art studio and let all these pent-up feelings out on a canvas. Maybe the scent of acrylic paint will help give me some clarity.
At least I felt safe in my home again. The security system Gavin had installed is top-notch, and there haven’t been signs of the SUV in the neighborhood according to Pat. Even though I feel secure, there’s still this lingering notion of how much safer I felt with Ben and Gavin.
I didn’t want a man; I didn’t want a boyfriend, and here I am pining after two.
What the actual fuck?
I start the painting; the thought came to me the other night. It’s a reflection of the one I made of Ben and Gavin, except it’s me. The two sides that make the woman, the two sides they made me see.
Surprisingly, as my brush strokes get smaller, I see the composition coming together before my eyes, hoping that some clarity will flow through me.
Yet, the longer I paint the more confused I get wondering what the hell I’m doing and if I’m strong enough to withstand our friends with benefits situation.