Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Lainey
“Just like that…don’t stop…” The words rasped out of my mouth as my two lovers lay on either side of me. One dark hand stroked up my thigh, while a light one cupped my breast. Pink tongues flicked at my nipples and then tangled together.
I was so close, but I needed more.
My husband thrust deep inside me while our lover urged him on. As I took Noah, my legs wrapped around his waist, Ty moved into position, aligning himself with my mouth. “Hope you’re hungry, babe.”
“Always hungry for you.” My tongue darted out to sample a pearly drop of his essence. As he pushed inch by inch down my throat, his eyes fluttered closed. Seeing the pleasure wash over his features would push me over the edge.
And once I tumbled over, Noah and Ty would follow. We were always in sync like that, a trio of complementary notes. A chord. Perfect harmony.
“Oh, your mouth is like heaven.” Ty’s lips parted, and a soft sigh hissed out.
Meanwhile, Noah leaned down to sample a taste. “Damn, Ty, you’re throbbing—”
“Fuck yes I am.” His hips bucked as he braced my face in his large, masculine hands.
“I love watching you two,” Noah groaned as he picked up speed. “You’re gonna make me come.”
“Me too,” I breathed out, my hips rising to meet my husband’s. My next words were garbled due to Ty pressing himself down my throat.
In a heartbeat, we all shattered.
* * *
I couldn’t think of anything I loved more than being sandwiched between Noah and Ty.
Morning light tickled my eyelids until they popped open, and, through fuzzy vision, I surveyed Ty’s deep sepia leg slung over my hip and Noah’s light sandy-beige leg wrapped around my waist. Both giant walls of men caged me between them.
What girl wouldn’t want that?
Well, one who had to pee. Like me. In this moment.
I wiggled my way out, extracting myself from beneath their iron limbs.
I crawled across the mattress until I could safely swing my feet over and hit the floor.
My toes pressed into the soft, shaggy rug at the edge of the bed before I wrapped myself in my pink velour robe and matching slippers—a Christmas gift from Noah.
I’d start breakfast, and Ty would get up soon so he could work an overtime shift later. Noah and I had a family thing—my niece’s first birthday party. I would much rather spend a lazy Sunday in bed with my two guys, but duty called.
The smell of coffee wafted into the bedroom and lured my guys out of bed. Ty stumbled into the shower while Noah followed the scent of his favorite morning elixir. I handed him a mug, receiving a grateful smirk in return.
“My favorite mug too,” he sighed as he brought it to his lips. A gift from his mom, it read, I can’t fix stupid, but I can arrest it.
“What time does Ty get off tonight?” I refilled my own mug before flipping over the bacon frying on the stove.
“Not until six.” Noah set his mug on the counter. “And then we’re on shift tomorrow morning at six.”
“Ugh, he didn’t get much of a weekend, and you guys have a sixty-hour week ahead.” I both loved and hated that they got to work together.
They had each other’s backs if shit went south—at least they’d be together. But also—they’d be together. My whole world bravely leaping from one potential nightmare to the next.
They’d been work partners for three years.
And the three of us had been partners for one year.
A couple months ago, we all got tattoos—a heart with an infinity symbol—to seal our commitment to each other. We couldn’t go public with our relationship due to their work and our families, not now, anyway. But someday. Someday far in the future. Until then—we had our tattoos.
“He’s going to stay here this week?” Hope laced my words.
Noah grunted, shaking his head as he picked up his mug again. “He can’t. His landlord asked him why he’d been gone so much lately. And his mom said something too.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like that’s any of his landlord’s business!” I couldn’t comment on Ty’s mom. I was still afraid my own mother would just show up one morning when both men were lounging around in pajamas. That would be disastrous at best.
Noah nodded. “Ty told him he’d been working a lot of overtime, saving up for the downpayment on his house. And his landlord made some sort of comment about how the whole neighborhood is safer when Ty’s police cruiser is parked in the driveway.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I plated the bacon and checked the eggs. The smell was making my mouth water. I hoped Ty would get his fine ass out of the shower before it got cold. “It’s not Ty’s job to patrol his neighborhood. It’s not even in your jurisdiction.”
“I know.” Noah chuckled. “But you know how Ty is—”
“You mean like Superman?”
My husband nodded, grinning. “But that’s why we love him.”
“Indeed it is.”
* * *
Family get-togethers were just lovely. Until they weren’t.
Noah and I had been married for five years. And my mother had been harassing us about giving her a grandchild for approximately four years and eleven months. Yep, we got a whole month to be newlyweds before she started making demands.
My sister was the Fertile Myrtle of the family. She’d given my mom not one, not two, but three beautiful grandchildren, the youngest of whom was turning one. We put Poppy’s present with the other gifts and ventured toward the food table, where my very Italian family was gathered.
Every single family function, the main star was the food. It was abundant. It was delicious. And it was very unkind to my waistline.
“There you are!” my mother gushed as she came at me with puckered lips. “Fashionably late as always! Why your sister can seem to make it on time with three little ones in tow, but you can’t, I’ll never know.”
“You can blame it on me, Ma.” Noah fell on his sword for me, chuckling as he shook my dad’s hand. And then my mother wrapped him up in one of her famous hugs and slapped her hand across his back like she was burping a baby.
“Hey, Linds,” I called over to my sister, who was busy wiping off her son’s face. Parker was three and perpetually dirty. Penelope, her oldest, a very prim, proper and precocious six-year-old, sat on the porch swing reading a book.
“Hey, can you go get the Birthday Girl up from her nap?” My sister looked at me with desperation in her eyes. “She’s in her crib. She needs a diaper change, sorry.”
I managed to avoid rolling my eyes. Nothing like being late to a party and immediately going on diaper duty.
Instead, I just smiled and nodded at Lindsey.
As I headed inside, I noticed Noah had already gotten sucked into a discussion about the Hoosiers’ basketball prospects this season.
Once I heard something about three-point shots and zone defense, I knew he was down for the count. I’d see him again someday.
I took the stairs to little Poppy’s room, which was decked out in a pastel astronomical theme. The tiny bald-headed babe was standing in her crib, cheeks flushed, and eyes wet with tears. She began wailing as soon as she saw me.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Lainey came to rescue you!” I scooped her up out of the crib and pressed a kiss to her velvety soft cheek. “Oh, you’re a stinky-poo, aren’t you?” That observation only made the little one cry harder.
I had just gotten the diaper and wipes when I felt a presence in the room. I looked over my shoulder to see my mother standing there.
“Elaine,” she said, using my given name, “how are things going at school?”
This was my mother’s M.O. She’d ask seemingly innocuous questions about my job as a music teacher, and if I complained at all, she’d say something about how I’d be much happier staying home and raising babies.
“School is great,” I lied. Actually, I wasn’t thrilled with several things, but I didn’t feel like a lecture about my lack of procreation right now.
“Have you been to the doctor lately?” Her dark eyes flashed with hope as they trailed from my face, down my body and back up again.
I finished fastening Poppy’s diaper, pulled down her dress, and slung her onto my hip.
She giggled, thinking I was having fun with her instead of trying hard to tamp down my frustration with my mother.
“Come on, sweet girl,” I said as she giggled and bounced up and down in my arms. “Are you gonna eat birthday cake?”
My mother was not amused and held her hands out to her granddaughter, but Poppy clung to me tighter and shook her head, still giggling. “I’m not trying to pry,” my mother defended herself. “I just care about you. I want to make sure your health issues are being addressed.”
I rolled my eyes as I headed toward the door. “Ma, I’ve told you a million times. I have PCOS. I’m not going to magically stop having PCOS and start popping out kids, okay? The doctor told me I may never get pregnant without intervention. She said if I did, it would be a miracle.”
“So, intervene!” she snapped back at me.
I stopped midstride and stared at her. “Why are you like this?” I shook my head, my nostrils flaring with aggravation. “You have three grandchildren. Enjoy them. You’re probably not getting anymore.”
With that, I pulled Poppy to my front and wrapped my arms around her, and she hung there like a baby monkey hangs on its mama as I climbed down the stairs, careful to protect my precious cargo. My mother had absolutely no earthly clue that Noah and I were in a relationship with Ty.
She would freak the fuck out.
My entire family was ultra conservative and religious.
There was no way she would accept us being in a polyamorous triad.
I would get the “You’re going to hell” speech daily, and I had a strong feeling she would blame my infertility on my sin—that was how she would characterize my choices. I had zero doubts.
Noah saw me hand off my niece to my sister and followed me around the side of the house into a little garden with an arbor covered in ivy.
It would block me from view while I got myself under control.
I was surprised to see him extract himself from a basketball-related conversation so easily, but that was why I loved him.
He always came through when I needed him most.
“You okay?” He searched my face for clues as a tear slipped down my cheek. “I saw her go inside. I figured she was going to harass you.”
I sighed. “It’s the same old thing. She wants to know why we’re not seeing a fertility specialist.”
He nodded. We’d been over this a million times. “It’s just not the right time. Maybe someday.” He put his arms around me. “Did you tell her that?”
“No, I just fled the scene. It’s none of her business.”
“Blame it on me next time,” he offered. “Tell her I don’t want kids.”
I sighed. “I don’t want to blame it on anyone. It really is none of her business.” I closed my eyes as a utopian vision of being out to my family, them accepting both of my partners, and us choosing to welcome a baby—or maybe babies—filled my mind.
But it would never happen.