Page 31 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

I nod. “It’s mine and mine alone,” I whisper, those being the words I use if and when I ever promise anything. Because I don’t take trust lightly.

“I am a dominant. Lance is a switch. When we got together, I made Lance believe I would be able to switch at some point, therefore leading him to believe that he would get his needs met as a dominant, eventually, even if only in small quantities.” He takes a moment to catch his breath, and the way his dark lashes flutter with every painstaking blink makes my stomach clench, I wonder if he feels the same. Because he’s hurt, but he’s also…lookingat me. My spine heats when helooksat me that way.

“I thought I could. I wanted to.” He shakes his head, then shoves his hand through his hair. The way his bicep swells beneath his dress shirt does things to my pussy. Everything is getting warm and fuzzy, and I have to take a sip of my beer the moment the waitress hands it to me.

Lance and Aug both smirk, and I like that. I like that I brought them together happily for a split second. That they smiled together. I’ve never seen that until now.

“Couldn’t do it?” I ask, because I understand not being able to do something you don’t want to do. My entire life, my father pushed me into math contests and spelling bees and I hated it. I hated every second of it, I felt like a total imposter. I imagine it’s a tiny bit of what he must have felt.

He nods. “I hate myself, because I’d give my life for him.” He takes a second to breathe again, and my heart thuds in uneven beats, hammering away inside me in sympathy for his complete heartbreak. “But Icould notdo it.”

“It’s not who you are.” I shrug, and turn to Lance. “And you’re a switch in that you have to be dominant at some points in the relationship.”

He feeds a hand through his soft hair, nodding. “Yes. That is a need that I need met.”

I turn back to Augustus, wishing I could have a recording of myself tonight. I am so brave and bold, and I’ve ironically learned that from them, and how aptly they put their ideas, how succinct and unforgiving their statements are. “You’re bisexual?”

He nods. “Yes. I was married once. To a woman.”

I nod. “Okay. More on that later.” I turn to Lance and assess him boldly. “And you’re bisexual,” I state slowly. I learn quickly I assumed. Incorrectly at that.

“Pansexual,” he replies, his voice husky.

I know what that means, and it flatters me to think he chose my mind before my looks. “And you’re attracted to me?” I draw my fingers toward my chest, and watch his eyes rake over my pink fingernails, then my breasts. His eyes are heated when they come to mine. It may not have started with my looks but he has to want me for this to work. I need to know he wants me.

“Yes.”

I turn to Aug but he interjects before I can begin. “Yes, Brielle, I am attracted to you.”

I nod, my head feeling like Beetlejuice doing those three-sixties in the cemetery.Insanity.“Jesus, this is so weird, talking aboutthisso dispassionately and methodically,” I laugh, “I’m proposing,” I laugh again, shaking my head as tears of hilarity form, embarrassment burning my cheeks. “I’m proposing,” I continue through my insane laughter that is quickly transforming fromhahafunny tohas she lost her mindfunny. “That I become a third in your troubled relationship.” I shake my head and wipe beneath my eyes, careful not to disturb my mascara too badly. At least I hope.

“Why is that so funny?” Aug questions, annoyance rich in a deep, crawling timbre.

I sip my beer, shaking off my laughter. “Because you’re both… gorgeous and talented and dreamy.” I sigh and sip my beer again, loving the warmth rushing through my veins. “Inserting myself, inviting myself into what you have… it’s wild. It’s… like a movie.” Another sip.

Lance snorts. “And you’re not gorgeous? Talented?” He tips his frame over the table, his lips grazing my ear as I lean forward, seeking out his words. Every word he speaks sends a furious, chaotic flutter of heat and desire through my body. I get hotter, I get wetter, and Iwant more.

“Like a movie?” he whispers, sending an overwhelming rush of heat and need down my back, coming to an aching swell at the center of my legs. My sticky thighs take cover beneath my pencil skirt, which feels like it’s strangling everything I free.

“My life does kind of feel like the start of a movie these days… My last boyfriend and I were together for two years,” I recount to them. It sounds worse now, months later. “Yet he didn’t tell his fiancé about me. I ran into them at the grocery store and she didn't know I existed. Like I was so forgettable I wasn’t even a footnote in his story,” I skip all the reasons why I’m memorable,we can get into butt stuff later.

“Anyway, it made me reassess my very predictable life and I applied to the protégé program, I got assigned here and Ireallydidn’t want to come. My father didn’t want me to come either. He insisted—well, and I did at the time, too—that I see Mr. Leon and demand to be reassigned.Demand!”I shake my fist in mock anger. “And I did.” I smile at them, and I love the genuine grins I get in return. Under the table I place my feet inside each one of theirs, and they nuzzle their ankles against mine. “But obviously it didn’t work. And I’m glad it didn’t.” My mind takes a sharp turn, veering to my angry father, the one who refuses to have a civil conversation with me. Why? Because I was unable to get out of this program assignment. Quincey Parker has made it known that he thinks less of me for not refusing.

Whatever.

“I’m just telling you all this because… I often feel invisible. But with you guys…” I shake my head, a sea of memories flooding my mind, each electric and meaningful in their own way. “I’m listened to, and when I’m argued with, it’s to make me stronger, not weaker.” They’re watching me cautiously, silently, and their gazes give me confidence to lay my truths out bare. “I get to have passion in my life now. I get raw, potent anger, I get soft, tender affection…” The dichotomy craved by every woman hungry for love. “I didn’t know what I was missing, but I get it all now with you two. Iexistto you both, and you…” I shake my head. Everything touching my skin seems to burn, likely from too many vulnerable truths. “You want me.” I’m hesitant to blink up at them, terrified to see misunderstanding on their faces.

I look up anyway.

And my lips go dry as I find volcanic passion erupting from them, radiating from their chests and glistening in their eyes.

Both of them.

Lance nearly growls as he finishes his beer in two drinks. “I don’t like that you think that shit about yourself.”

I look at Aug, who is anxiously scratching at the side of his beard, glaring at me. Daggers. Like, I need a shield from the daggers this man is throwing with those big, dark eyes of his. My pussy hungrily pulses as I take him in.

“Your ex is a fucking moron, clearly. And I don’t care about what anyone else can or can’t see. You’re smart, and fiery, and kind of annoying,” he grumbles, a sexy smirk on his lips as he pauses. “But beautiful, and sexy as hell, and talented.”

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