Page 61 of Shameless Game

Over and over, it’s all I see when I close my eyes.

Me, fucking Blair.

Me, fucking Colt.

Us, fucking her.

Them, fucking me.

Every infinite, carnal combination of our three bodies.

It’s not just the sex we can share. It’s the morning coffees. The nightly movies. The laundry we can do together. The long talks we can have in bed.

I want everything with them; I just don’t know how.

Colt made our part easy. He asked me about living together, and maybe it’ll work for a while. For the first time in my life, I’m willing to try with him.

But me and Blair?

I’ve never had a girlfriend. Not since Reese in college, and no offense, I don’t really count her. That wasn’t two adults in love. That was me, trying to be a hero because I didn’t want to save myself.

Yeah, I’ve fucked around since. I’ve swiped for some kinky nights after the NDAs were signed, but no woman has been to my house. Hookups happen in hotels.

But my home? My bed?

It’s virgin territory like my heart. I’ve been saving it for someone—someone to dream with, someone to marry, someone to start a family with.

I thought it would be a decade from now, not in days, because the clock is ticking down. Like it’s past half-time, I gotta lock down a victory with Blair before we leave.

She’s my someone. So is Colt.

I realize it now. But can someone tell me how I can convince her to try? To trust?

The chef sets our lunch outside. It’s amusing when he eyes Blair’s bare ass and foxtail, but the guy’s chill. He and our maid. They must see all kinds of stuff, so they leave us and our kinky drama alone.

“Hey, Fox?” I sit at the table, filling fresh corn tortillas with Pibil—slow-roasted pork with local vegetables. “You gonna eat with us?”

Colt’s about to scarf down his meal, too, but Blair just shakes her tail.

“In a minute.” Her fingernails click on the keyboard. “I’m in flow-state.”

“I’m in hard-as-fuck-state,” Colt mumbles, sitting beside me. “Dude, you gotta do something because all of a sudden, I have a dirty fox fetish.”

“Try having a kitten fetish, too.” Colt stuffs his face, eyes wide, waiting for me to explain. “The first and last night I was with her? Valentine’s? Blair rocked my world wearing a Bad Kitty collar and a long black cat tail butt plug.”

I want to tell him more. I need to tell him more.

About how I discovered so many erotic things with Blair that night. About how we shared more than kink. It was a soul-branding connection, our connection, and I haven’t been the same since.

I found myself inside Blair—myself who loves Colt, too.

But it’s not for me to share. Not all of it. If Blair wants Colt to know her fantasies, too, she’ll tell him. Or show him.

Hell, is that what she’s doing now? Waiting us out? Trying our dick patience?

Watching her feet kick in the air, I nudge his. “Eat up, then play along. Let’s see if we can tempt the fox out of her den.”

When we finish our meal, we dive in the pool to refresh.

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