Chapter Nine
. . .
Your aura smells like sex.
I’ve been standing in front of their door for the last fifteen minutes. Knocking feels ridiculous and impossible. It doesn’t help that I’m in a fucking trench coat with only my cutest pair of bra and panties on.
Which isn’t saying much because I’m at a women’s retreat, so full-bottomed chartreuse cotton undies and an old black bra were the best I had.
And yet, despite that, here I stand, believing in myself more than I’ve ever believed in anything else. Because I keep trying to knock.
Even though I haven’t pulled the trigger.
“I’ve got this,” I breathe out.
Thank god they live a short walk from the main house because if anybody witnessed this, I’d die.
Hesitantly, I lift my hand, only to drop it again with a groan before I turn around. Really just pivoting so I’m right back where I left off.
Dammit. Just knock on the damn door.
Courage. I could use a shot of it.
I reach into the pocket of my trench coat (I’m so glad I packed everything I owned) and pull out my phone, scrolling through the group chat.
Mille: You’ve got this.
Eleanor: Main character vibes.
Samantha: Just breathe and remind yourself it’s okay to want this.
Moon: Your aura smells like sex. Get it in.
I don’t even want to know how someone’s aura smells like sex, but I’ll take it. The phone goes back in my pocket before I stare at the door again. I’m going to knock. Right now. Here I go.
Two more seconds of nothing, and I drop my head.
Fuck. What is wrong with me? I want this. I do.
I like them, they’re hot. They want me, I want them.
Although I don’t really know them… They could be completely illiterate or listen to Joe Rogan. Which is kind of the same thing.
With a frown, I drag my phone back, opening my Notes app. The thing Samantha suggested to me so that I could keep all my questions organized once my brain gets fried by lust.
I purse my lips, wiggling them back and forth as I try to word my question.
“Mmm,” I hum before whispering to myself, “Fan of any podcasts? Specifically ones by short guys with tiny dicks?”
“No,” a deep voice levels.
I scream and almost drop my phone before I clutch it to my chest. Jesus.
Wells is smiling at me.
“You,” I say breathlessly, “are always doing that to me. I didn’t even hear the door open.”
He leans out of the doorway, clutching each side of the jamb.
“And you are always in your own world, not paying attention. But I’m glad I have it now. You’re right on time.”
I blink back into his green eyes as I lick my lips, not knowing what to say until I frown. “I was going to knock. I meant to…”
“Okay.”
That damn word. But before I can say anything, he shuts the door in my face. I blink, startled, then laugh. He’s crazy. I like it. Especially since now all the nervous energy I felt a second ago is gone.
I knock.
He opens the door again and smiles at me. “Oh, hey. I was just thinking about you.”
I grin back. “Funny, I was just passing by…”
Wells grips the back of his neck, making me notice a small tear on the collar of his shirt. It’s a weird thing to find attractive, but it feels carefree and easy. I like that about him.
“Then I guess this is fate,” he teases.
Why is my heart beating out of my chest like this? Be cool, Margot.
I’m waiting for him to invite me in, but he keeps standing in the doorway, so I raise my brows.
He glances at the phone in my hand. “I’m waiting for the rest of your questions.”
“Oh…ummm…” is all I say as my words trail off.
I mean, I meant for this moment to happen, for me to ask them important questions before we…
But I pictured doing this seated on the couch or somewhere less strange than their front door.
A tiny breath escapes past my lips as I turn my face down toward my phone when “Wells” is yelled from somewhere in their bungalow.
He looks over his shoulder, letting his voice carry. “Margot has questions.”
The next thing I know, Brody and Brooks are flanking him.
Oh my goodness. The T-shirt-plus-board-shorts combo is strong with these three, and they look delectable. Brooks is wearing the same lifeguard tee I saw him in on the first day. I make a mental note to ask if they’re really lifeguards on the side.
“Ask away, gorgeous,” Brooks coaxes, making me smile before I lock eyes with Brody.
He’s impossible to disconnect from, and it scrambles my brain.
There are so many thoughts swirling. Like, I can’t believe I’m doing this to I got here two days ago to the question that pops out first. One that wasn’t on my list.
I delicately clear my throat more for strength than because I need it.
There’s a beat of silence before I say, “Can I watch one of you give a blow job so I can learn how? Or is that rude?”
“Fuck,” “Jesus,” and “Inside” all ring out at the same time before the belt in front of my trench is grabbed, and I’m jerked inside.
I squeal, falling into Brody’s arms before he steadies me, then takes a step back.
Wells laughs. “I thought you had more questions about our entertainment tastes, not…”
“Oh,” I cut in, my expression matching the sentiment. “I only have awkward questions.”
“Your cheeks are cute that color,” Brooks throws out, making the color deepen.
We stand there in the cringiest silence before Brody claps his hands together. “Who wants a drink?”
Our collective hands shoot up.
This is going to be a long night.
Instead of one drink, we’ve had two.
But at least all of my sex questions got asked and answered, from STD checks and condoms to the length of service—one naughty week, and then I never see them again—and everything in between.
It kind of feels like negotiating the terms and conditions on a coupon: Fuck two dicks, suck one free.
Which explains why now, despite the alcohol, we’re back knee-deep in the same awkward silence from before.
Or maybe it’s just me, since I can’t stop thinking of all the naughtier questions I have.
I glance up, fiddling with my trench, before I grin at Wells, who’s sitting on the couch to my left, before I switch to Brooks, who’s on my right.
A quiet chuckle falls from my lips before I reach for my beer, taking a sip, definitely avoiding eye contact with Brody where he’s sitting opposite me.
“So,” I breathe out with zero plan for what to say next. But I need to say something, or I’ll die. God, this is awful.
My lips roll over each other like I’m spreading lip gloss. Because I swear to god I almost just said, “The weather’s really great here.” But thankfully, I stopped myself.
The weather, really? Because everyone knows there’s nothing sexier than a cold front.
Why is this so hard? Shouldn’t they just be hard? I hear how stupid that sounds as I weave my fingers between each other.
God, I’m too tense.
Okay, maybe I thought that when I showed up, we’d all just strip and start boning. Kind of like in my dream. Which is insane because I also knew we had to be adults and talk about grown-up things like STD checks.
But I don’t see how this turns sexy anytime soon.
Fuck. Adulting is a mood killer. I bet they’re regretting asking me here.
Brooks stretches his arm behind me on the couch as Wells and Brody both take swigs of their beer. I’m still in my head, having a full-on conversation with myself.
Maybe I should just stand up and take off my coat?
Be seductive. Or say something badass, like “come and get it.” That’s not badass.
That’s what people say when they’re serving chili.
Chili isn’t sexy. I chew the side of my cheek.
Maybe I should ask them about themselves?
No, that looks clingy, and we’re just fuck buddies.
But buddies still talk…
My forehead wrinkles as I consider that idea.
What do I even ask them? Maybe where they went to college? A grin slowly grows on my face. Maybe I should ask to see their dicks, for educational purposes.
When I look up, they’re all staring at me. And I know they’ve been watching me think. Shit.
“I’ve always been very expressive,” I say as an apology before biting my lip for the millionth time.
Silence stays between us, and I’m on the verge of saying something to surely embarrass myself just to fill the void when Brody’s deep baritone does that for me.
“Margot,” Brody says with all that gravel. I lift my face, our eyes locking. He smirks before continuing. “Expressive doesn’t cut it. I’d give you all my pennies for those thoughts.”
I adjust my collar, feeling hot, before I tear my eyes away from his, but Brooks doesn’t let me get far because he reaches up and guides my face to his.
“I think we’d all like to know what you were thinking, Stunner.”
Wells uncurls my hands from around my knees, so I turn my face to his and watch him press our palms together like he’s measuring how small my hand is against his.
“Were you thinking about your first question? Because we never answered it.”
It takes less than a second for me to remember—“Can I watch one of you give a blow job so I can learn how? Or is that rude?”
“Kind of,” I answer quietly, feeling like it’s honest since I was thinking about sex in general. I’m also not admitting that I was thinking about fucking chili or asking to see their dicks.
Brooks’ fingers begin methodically stroking the nape of my neck before traveling just inside the collar of my coat.
Goose bumps bloom, and I know he feels them.
Are we starting? Is this happening? My chest begins rising taller because I’m nervous. I glance at Brody, who’s watching intently, hunger behind his eyes.
Fuck. Wells raises my hand and presses a gentle kiss to my fingertip. It makes me blink. This is overwhelming.
Everyone’s attention is on me all at once.
Another kiss is pressed to a new finger as Brooks explores the dip of my shoulder. Jesus Christ. A man’s hand is on my flesh. Two men, actually. And another’s eyes haven’t left me.
As I think it, Brody’s voice makes me shiver and steals my attention.
“You said you wanted to learn. So why don’t you give us a list of what you want to know.”
I can’t even process what he’s said because my breath is still caught in my lungs, so the words won’t come out.