Page 34 of Faking the Play

I didn’t finish the thought because at that moment, Logan was finished. With a groan, he came, emptying himself into a piece of cloth that I only now realized was mine. As in, my underwear. I didn’t remember him taking them off, but I couldn’t even be annoyed that I’d have to leave here bare-assed. Not when he was chanting my name, shudders going through that strong body as he clutched my panties around his cock.

Needless to say, I would never be able to study in this room again, because damn. Logan had just ruined the library for me, and he’d done it in the best way possible.

Chapter eighteen

Ethan

This still didn’t seem quite real.

When Logan came back to the apartment a couple days ago and told Ryan and me that he’d talked to Amelia about us sharing her, I’d been expecting a rejection. Hell, I’d thought the best-case scenario would be that she at least wanted to stay friends. Instead, he’d said that she was willing to think about it.

Which was how I’d ended up in a booth at a little ice cream shop, sitting across from Amelia, discussing how sharing her would work with the same sort of casualness that most people used when talking about things like where to go for dinner.

“What would we do if, say, all four of us decided we wanted to go out for ice cream?” she asked.

I thought for a minute before answering. The few times the three of us had shared a woman, it’d basically been just sex, even when it was more than once, and Logan had handled the logistics. With Amelia, though, things were different. We wanted to date her. Even though us guys had talked about having a poly relationship, it had seemed so impossible that we’d never really talked about how it would work.

I didn’t know about Logan and Ryan, but when I’d pictured it, I only thought about us being at home, even if it wasn’t sexual. Sitting on the couch, one of us holding her hand, her feet on another one’s lap. That sort of thing. I realized now that was stupid, because of course we weren’t going to spend our entire lives locked away.

“I guess we’d come get ice cream and see what we felt comfortable doing in public,” I finally answered. “If you wanted to hold my hand, but not the other guys, that’s what we’d do. If you wanted to have Ryan’s arm around you, then that’s how it’d go.”

“And if I wanted both?” she asked quietly, her cheeks pink. “If I wanted to hold your hand while Ryan’s arm was around me?”

“Then Logan will have to carry your ice cream,” I said.

Just like I’d hoped, she smiled. “You guys really are okay with this, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “It just feels right, you know? All of us being together?” I reached across the table and took her hand. “But we don’t want to pressure you into anything. If this isn’t going to work for you, you tell us, okay? Because if we’re not all on the same page, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

She nodded and squeezed my hand. “I really am thinking seriously about it. I’m not just stringing you guys along.”

“Thought never crossed my mind,” I said honestly. “And if you want some diagrams of how things might work inotherinstances, just say the word. I’m a pretty good artist.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I remember that picture you drew of Mr. Caldicott in sixth grade after he made half the class cry. It was the first penis picture I’d ever seen. And still the only one I’ve ever seen with a hat.”

“Acowboyhat,” I clarified. “And his balls had spurs on the sides.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right! I forgot about the spurs. How could I have forgotten about those?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “Logan and I must’ve argued for twenty minutes about whether or not I should’ve given him cowboy boots.”

“So you’ll argue about if a penis should have cowboy boots instead of spurs, but you’re not going to argue about who gets to sleep with me on any particular night?” She was half-teasing, which made me more than half-hard.

“Why argue when we can just both sleep with you?” I watched her face as my words sank in.

Her eyes widened, but I could see the heat in those deep blue irises. She wasn’t opposed to that sort of sharing either. Thank fuck. The three of us would’ve kept things separate if that was what she wanted, but we’d shared enough women for sex to know how good it could be. I had a feeling, with Amelia, it’d be fantastic.

My phone chose that moment to start ringing. Frowning, I fished it out of my pocket. No one called me unless it was an emergency. The moment I saw the word “Hospital” on my screen, all of the ease and humor I’d been feeling disappeared.

“I need to get this,” I said to Amelia even as I answered. “Hello?”

“Is this Ethan Blake?” A woman’s voice came through.

“Yes, I’m Ethan.”

“Are you related to a Mia Blake?”

“She’s my mother.”

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