39. Maeve #3
My heart feels like it’s swelling in my chest, like it might burst right out if I don’t do something about these overwhelming feelings. Before I can second-guess myself, I push up from the couch and lean over to where he sits in the armchair, pressing my lips to his in a soft kiss.
I can feel Gabriel and Ford watching us intently. It’s a gentle kiss, sweet and grateful, and I savor every second of it. But I also love knowing they’re watching me kiss him, that they’re part of this moment too.
When I pull away, I can see hunger burning in all three sets of eyes.
“Earlier,” Ford says carefully, “you said that you didn’t think that all of this was a good idea.”
I swallow hard. “Yes, I did say that.”
Ford and Hayden exchange a pointed look that makes me flush deeper.
“Is there anything specific you’re unsure about?” Gabriel asks softly. “Anything we can do to reassure you? We want to take care of you, petit oiseau doux .”
I swallow, chewing on my lips for a second before I answer.
“Maybe it would be best if we were clear with each other about expectations? What are the rules here, exactly? Is it okay if I’m with…
uh, what happened with Hayden and Ford that first night, is that something that’s acceptable?
Or would you all prefer it to be separate from now on?
I mean, I can be with all three of you, but not together at the same time? ”
“That’s a fair question,” Ford admits. “We haven’t really discussed any boundaries, and we should. We want you to feel comfortable with everything.”
“I need you all to stop being so considerate.” I laugh, feeling overwhelmed by their care. “I’m used to you barking orders at me. Driving me crazy!”
“Oh, we’ll still order you around plenty,” Gabriel assures me with a wicked smile. “Don’t worry about that.”
“And we’ll definitely still drive you crazy,” Hayden adds with a playful wink.
Heat floods through me at their promises, but I try not to let myself get instantly distracted by the implications. “So you’re asking me what I want?”
“Yes,” all three say almost simultaneously.
I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. I know what I really want deep down—I want a real romance, something permanent and lasting. But that’s not what they’re offering me. They’re offering fun and incredible sex during the holidays. In that context, what do I actually want?
“I really liked it when you worked together,” I murmur, my face burning with embarrassment but my voice steady. “It was incredibly hot. If it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing and you don’t want to do it again, I understand. But if you’re okay with it… I loved being shared by you.”
All three men look at me with a kind of heat that sends my internal temperature rocketing, and I tug my lower lip between my teeth as my stomach flips over.
“Come here,” Ford growls.
I crawl across the couch toward him, and he takes my chin in his large hands, kissing me with controlled passion. It’s even deeper and more possessive than the kiss Hayden gave me moments ago.
When I pull back, Gabriel is already there waiting, so I just have to turn my head to kiss him too. The anticipation in the air is thick enough to cut, making it feel hard to breathe in the best way possible.
When I pull back from Gabriel, he stares down at me. The room is completely quiet, as if the sound has been turned off, and I can feel myself waiting for the tension to snap, for someone to make the next move?—
Sudden noises in the hallway break through the stillness, and I lurch back against the couch just as Lydia bounces into the room.
“I thought you went to bed already,” Ford says, clearing his throat.
Hayden scowls in the direction of the Christmas tree, and I have to cover my mouth to smother a laugh at how thoroughly annoyed he looks.
“Unlike Mom and Dad, I’m not the type who’s ready for bed before nine p.m.,” Lydia snorts, oblivious to what she just interrupted. She plops herself down on the couch between Ford and me with a bright grin. “Unless you’re all too cool to hang out with your baby sister now?”
“I think it should be the other way around,” Ford teases, although I can see him working to get his breathing under control. “I should worry that you’re too cool to hang out with me. I don’t know any of the current slang.”
“You didn’t know the slang when you were a teenager either,” Hayden points out, making Gabriel snort with laughter.
“Oh really?” I ask, grinning despite my disappointment at the interruption. “You’re telling me teenage Ford wasn’t the epitome of cool?”
I might be disappointed that our moment was interrupted and that Lydia just inserted herself into the middle of our private time, but I do genuinely like Lydia.
And I’m discovering that I enjoy spending time with these men outside of sex just as much.
Now that I’m not just their assistant, I’m seeing them not only as demanding bosses, but as complete people.
I’ve always caught glimpses of their other sides, but now it feels like I’m being actively invited to see every part of them.
It’s a privilege, one I’m fully aware not everyone gets.
And I really like the men I’m discovering they are beneath their professional facades.
I won’t take any of this for granted. We can always have sex later, after all.
This—getting to talk with them and be part of their group, feeling like maybe even for a moment I belong to their family—is just as important to me.
Honestly, in some ways, it might be even more important.
Lydia is outraged to hear that we had expensive whiskey without her, so Gabriel insists we get some wine and include her this time.
The moment Lydia gets up to help Gabriel select glasses, Ford smoothly tugs me along the couch so I’m curled against his side with his strong arm around my shoulders. That way when Lydia returns, she sits on my other side instead of between us again.
It could just be for Lydia’s benefit, maintaining our fake engagement charade.
But Lydia doesn’t comment or tease us about it, and she didn’t seem bothered sitting between us before.
I let myself relax into Ford’s side, and as we sip the wine while Gabriel educates us on proper wine appreciation and Hayden and Ford mercilessly tease him, I can’t help feeling like this is… more than just sex.
Ford absently takes a lock of my hair and twirls it around his finger, seemingly enjoying the silky texture. He doesn’t even appear to realize he’s doing it, which makes the gesture feel even more intimate.
If I close my eyes and let myself relax into his touch while conversation flows around me, I can almost imagine this is more than a temporary arrangement. That all of this is… real.