Page 44 of Repluse

You haveto step up four tiled steps before stepping down into the bath. The area around it is tiled and sits adjacent to a floor to ceiling window overlooking the pool outside. There are three chunky, wooden candle holders in the corner of the room, with the clicker to light the candles hidden behind. In front of those sits a ceramic bowl containing bath salts and a scoop.

I sprinkle a couple of scoops under the still-running taps, test and adjust the temperature, light the candles, and climb in. There is a set of controls on the side, and when I press the first button, the lights dim. The next button activates jets around the edges of the bath, which bubble with just enough pressure against my back.

I’ve kept my cast on—it’s waterproof—but I rest my broken wrist on the edge and sink down into the water. I’m not sure what fragrance the bath salts are, but a citrusy smell fills theroom along with the steam. Resting my head back against the edge, I close my eyes.

“High For This” by The Weeknd starts playing over a hidden sound system, and I’m instantly horny. Sensing movement, I open my eyes to see Sam leaning across to turn off the taps I’d forgotten were still running.

Naked and already hard, he sets down an ice bucket containing a bottle of something, then steps down into the tub. Frankie’s right behind him carrying three stemless champagne flutes, his dick even more erect, and I wonder how exactly we’re going to navigate this in a bath full of water and with my broken wrist.

“Fucking hell, Mils. I think my balls just shrivelled up and joined Frankie’s. How can you stand it so hot?” Sam asks, while Frankie pulls faces and makes noises, which I think are meant to express his discomfort at the water temperature.

“I thought it might help thaw your cold black soul,” I reply to Frankie as I accept the glass of bubbly liquid and take a sip.

As the boys lower themselves to the shelved seating that runs around the inside of the bath, the water rises up to my shoulders. For the boys, it sits just below their armpits. Frankie’s to my left, Sam to my right. Our legs meet and tangle in the middle as they continue to make noises of discomfort.

“Bloody hell, you two are a pair of pussies.” I tilt my head back and close my eyes again. “And I don’t know why you’re pulling faces and making noises, Walsh. I thought your balls were long gone.”

“They reappeared when I saw you naked.”

A thought crosses my mind, and because the Prosecco has gone straight to my head, I sit up straight, open my eyes, and ask the one thing I’ve been dying to know the answer to since I met these two.

“Can I ask you a question?” I look from Frankie to Sam.

“Me?” Frankie asks, tilting his glass towards his chest.

“Both of you, really.”

“Go for it,” Sam says.

“What exactly is your relationship? I mean, I know you’re mates and business partners, but what else? Are you lovers? Are you bi? What? I’m curious.”

They’re silent for a long moment. Zayne sings about steaming up the windows over the sound system, and I shift slightly as the words to the song have my vagina clenching in anticipation of what’s to come tonight. Me, hopefully.

“I fuck him, he doesn’t fuck me,” Sam finally says. “And that only happens when we’re sharing a woman.”

My eyes move from Sam to Frankie, who’s sitting closest to the candles, the light from which dances across his face, catching the green of his eyes, making them shine like emeralds. They’re fixed on Sam, and the way he’s looking at him causes a visceral reaction insideme,but I don’t know why.

“I used to think I was bi,” he finally says, eyes still on Sam. “I’d always been into girls, but then when I met Sam, I crushed hard, and it totally confused me.” He lets out a long sigh, his gaze hits mine, and he shakes his head. “It took me a little while to realise it was him.” He shrugs, and for the second time tonight, he shows me he’s vulnerable, and I again feel a shift in my opinion of Frankie Walsh. “I didn’t know what to do with that, and I avoided him for a little while.”

“Which was hard because we were sharing an apartment at the time. But I noticed and wondered what I’d done to piss him off, so I asked him.” Sam nods towards Frankie and lets him continue the story.

“I poured us both a drink—I chugged three to his one—and told him I fancied him. He was quiet for a bit, shrugged, and said ‘what’s not to fancy’. We laughed, he apologised, told mehe loved me, but he liked women, though we should never say never.”

“So, what happened? How did you eventually hook up?”

“I came home pretty drunk one night, and he was eating some girl out on our couch. He hadn’t even noticed me, butshedid and beckoned me over.” Frankie’s eyes are back on Sam, and it hits me then what that look is. He’s in love with Sam. I’m pretty sure Sam loves him back, but not inthatway. Sam loves Frankie, but he’s notinlove with him, and again I feel a shift inside me.

“When I looked up from between the girl’s legs—Beth, I think her name was—she was undoing his jeans and pulling out his cock. I fingered her as she sucked him off. We’d both been drinking, were a little bit high, and I decided to shoot my shot.” He shrugs again, still looking at Sam. “I slid up her body, fumbled around for the condom I’d left on the arm of the sofa, slid it on, buried myself inside her, then pulled Sam’s cock out of her mouth and into mine.”

“You didn’t stop him? What were you thinking right at that moment?” I ask Sam, wanting to squeeze my legs together as their story unfolds, but worried they’ll notice and laugh at me.

Sam reaches for the ice bucket, retrieves the bottle, and tops up our glasses.

“Is this turning you on, us talking about this?” he asks.

“Answer my question first.”

“I don’t know. I was dizzy at first, my head spinning because it was the best blow job I’d ever had. Then the girl started squeezing my balls and groaning, and I just came right in his mouth. He swallowed, and I was hard again. My dick didn’t even go down a little bit. We took Beth up to Frankie’s bed, shared her, then he fucked her while I fucked him.”

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