Page 4 of Repluse

“Yeah, that’s the reason my parents refused to live at the big house with the rest of the family. The holier than thou, shit doesn’t stink, Patron Saint of Yira is a fucking sex pest.” Frankie spits the words, the contempt he feels for Scott apparent in the sneer of his lips.

“I’m well aware,” I admit.

“He’s tried shit with you?” Sam sits forward on the edge of sofa.

Slowly inhaling through my nose, I nod, my stomach churning as I recall all of the times my father-in-law has madean inappropriate comment or touched me in a way that’s made me step out of his reach. I always assumed it was a test. Him just seeing if I’d go there with him so he could go running to my husband with our divorce papers in hand.

Scott Walsh also hated his son’s choice of wife due to my ethnicity. My dad’s Aussie, my mum Ukrainian—although she’s lived in Australia since she was three, but to Scott, it didn’t count. My blood wasn’t and isn’t true blue Aussie enough for him. Add to that how my mum did a runner, my dad turned to the bottle, my brothers both ended up in prison, and I grew up in abject poverty, and Scott almost had a coronary when Logan took me home and introduced me as his fiancée. It was only after I agreed to the prenup that Scott agreed not to cut Logan off if he married me. He’d already lost a brother, so the last thing he wanted was to lose his only son to a ‘bloody mongrel’, too.

“I just learned very early on not to be alone in Scott’s company,” I tell them.

Sam’s brows are raised as he shakes his head and asks, “You haven’t told your husband?”

“Logan’s… Scott’s…”

“Logan’s a pussy. Scott’s a cunt and a bully. Logan would never stand up to his old man. Never has, never will. Shocked the shit out of me and Mum when he defied him by marrying you. Now I know about the prenup and the will, I understand why he allowed it to happen,” Frankie states.

I shrug, unsure of how to respond.

“Your family’s fucked. No wonder you need an escape,” Sam says with a wink, making everything inside me pull tight.

He’s absolutely gorgeous in that casual, sun-kissed, surfer kind of way: golden skin, slightly too long, blondish hair, piercing blue eyes, square jaw, and a tall, lean frame.

“We’ll definitely make you forget all that bullshit,” Frankie says. “In fact, while you’re here, we’re not even gonna mentionthat pair of pricks. When you’re here, it’s all about us, starting right the fuck now.”

I swallow, unsure what that means.

“Don’t look so scared, Mila. I just mean we’re no longer going to talk about Scott and Logan Walsh.”

“Oh,” I say quietly.

He stares at me for a long moment, and I’m wondering what he sees. Or is he looking for something with the way he’s studying me? During our few interactions, and even since I arrived here today, he’s come across as intense—serious. The dark to Sam’s light. But just then, the way he told me not to be scared, and the way he’s looking at me now, I feel like a shift has happened in his attitude towards me.

However, it could just be that I’m so highly strung, I’m overthinking this whole arrangement, and should really see it for what it is: a hook up. A weekend long, three-way hook up, but a hook up nonetheless.

“So…”

I’m so lost inside my own head that I jump when Frankie speaks again.

“Just to clarify,” he says softly. “You want todoall the things, try all the things. Even when you say no, you want us to encourage you to give it a go?”

My mouth goes dry at the thought of all that might mean, and all the different ways these two men will find to fuck me. It actually makes my head spin in anticipation.

“You’re sure about that? Even if you say yes now, you can say no later on,” Frankie reassures me with a smile. It’s gentle, and it reaches his eyes. Something has definitely changed.

“I’m sure,” I state, my eyes meeting both of theirs.

“We’ll make it good for you,” Sam says. “Everything we do, even if it involves a little bit of pain, we’ll always make sure it feels good for you.”

“And just so we know now, are you up for a little… enhancement?” Frankie asks. “Doing what we do means we meet people from all walks of life, which in turn gives us access to a lot of… supplements. All natural, all plant-based. Things that’ll help you relax. Things that’ll help you let go of your inhibitions, things that’ll heighten every single touch. Nothing dangerous, nothing addictive, just a little something-something to make this whole experience the best it can be.”

My eyes meet Sam’s, and he gives a little nod, reassuring me I’ll be safe, and for some reason, that’s all I need.

“I think I’d like that. I think…” I look between them. “Actually, I’m really scared, really nervous. I’ve no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

Sam, with his legs spread, elbows resting on his knees, and a glass cradled between the fingers of both hands, leans towards me from where he sits on the sofa. “Mila, please believe you’re safe with us, I promise you. We want you to enjoy your time here. We want you to want to come back and do it again. We would never, ever encourage you to do or take something that would endanger you.”

I draw in a breath and nod, unsure why I believe him or why he makes me feel safe.

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