Page 3 of The Best Number

ADVERT

Single, fun loving, 30 something female seeking a pair of males to try new things. Help mewrite my next steamy book by showing me a good time and how it’s done. Ideally, you will have experience with a female third.

Hit me with your best shot (unsolicited dick pics will NOT be taken seriously - show me you mean business with your words and not indecent exposure!)

I expel a long, deep sigh as I read back over the text. This is potentially the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m in the middle of divorcing the biggest dickhead in the world, who cunningly disguised himself as a charming romantic whilst cheating on me from day one. Doing stupid things isn’t new to me, but this… this might be my worst yet.

I swipe back and forth through the photos I’ve selected to go alongside the description I’ve written for the kink-dating app. Am I really going to go through with this? Advertise to find a couple of guys to have a threesome with?

Yes. It’s a long-held fantasy of mine to be double-ended by a couple of attractive men. I planned for it to stay ‘just a fantasy’ until very recently, but this new book isn’t writing itself. The writer's block is real. I have rent to pay. My income as a self-published author varies each month, and now that I have my own place, it’s daunting being solely responsible for rent and expenses. But it’s still better than living with a cheating spouse.Plus, my audience is heavily suggesting… actually no, make that demanding… some group action in my next book. I really need some inspiration.

Perhaps I’m using my career as an erotic romance author to live out all my fantasies, but I’ve decided that I’m at a time in my life where I’m okay with that. I need a little fun outside the words I type on the page. I need more laughter and fun and pleasure in my life. And perhaps some of that fun can be with a couple of guys. It would also be wonderful to have some orgasms that weren’t solely down to me.

I read over my words one last time, take a deep breath, and hold my finger down on the SUBMIT button at the bottom of the page. I’ve already decided I’ll only run this ‘ad’ for a short period and see what comes back. I’m still not sure if I’ll get any serious takers or just a load of jerks, but I have to try. I’ve promised my readers that I’ll make a damn good effort to write a throuple book next and really don’t want to disappoint them.

Once I hit submit, I close down the app before I can start questioning my life choices, and get up to open a bottle of wine. I pour myself a glass and, as I’m walking back to my cosy nest on the couch, wondering what to watch on Netflix, there’s a knock on the door.

I pause to take a look in the mirror before I see who’s there, blowing some of my loose brunette hair from my eyes. I tug on the hem of my big, baggy t-shirt, thankful that I’m not already in my pyjamas at 7 pm on a Friday.

Jack, my neighbour, is leaning up against the door frame. He looks like he’s been working out—wearing shorts, trainers, a singlet, and the pièce de résistance—a backwards baseball cap. A thin sheen of sweat visibly covers him and it takes everything in me not to lean closer to lick his neck. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but there’s something about it that gets me going.Shame he’s in a situationship with Tom, the hot barman.But hey, a girl can look, right?

“Hey, Cass,” he says with a smile.

“Jack, hi.” I try not to stare at his shapely biceps. “Just back from the gym?”

“A run… it’s warm out there. Any plans tonight? Or do you want to come over for a drink once I’ve had a shower?”

This is becoming a regular thing. It started a couple of months ago—Jack knocking on my door and asking if I fancied a drink at his place. And most Fridays since we’ve gravitated to hanging out with each other. Right now, I’m grateful for the interruption. Maybe it’ll take my mind off the ad I’ve just posted. “How long do you need to shower?” I ask.

He grins as he replies, “Not too long. Give me ten minutes.”

I watch as he steps away to his own front door and makes his way into his flat, and I close my door, deciding there is no point changing as he’s already seen the state of me.

I check my ad posted correctly while Jack showers and I jolt when a notification bell goes off. I take a deep breath and click to open the single message in my inbox.

Urgh, of course it’s a dick pic.Along with a note that the owner of the hideous-looking dick can more than keep me entertained and I won’t need two men.

Frustrated, I click out of the message and put my phone down while I redo my messy bun. I down what’s left of my wine, then grab the rest of the bottle, my keys, and phone and make my way over to Jack’s.

It doesn’t take him long to answer. Now wearing grey sweatpants, he pulls on a black t-shirt and steps back to allow me to enter. Noticing the wine bottle in my hand, he says, “I’ll grab some glasses,” as he gives me a smile that makes my knees wobble.

“I’ve only just opened it, so I thought you could help me finish it.”

It’s strange. I know I’m attracted to Jack and have been ever since I first met him when I moved in across the hall. And every now and again, I’m convinced he’s attuned to the female gaze and is doing everything in his power to lure me in. But I’ve seen him with Tom on several occasions. So what’s the story? Gay, bisexual or something else? It’s not like I mind who or what he likes. I just want to know if heisflirting with me or if I’m just constantly in heat as a result of the sex-crazed books I’m trying to write—if the writer’s block would just get out of my way.

“I can feel your brain burning as you think,” Jack teases.

I give my head a shake to clear my thoughts. He’s back from the kitchen with the wine glasses and I’m still standing where he left me. I step away from the open front door and move to close it just as Jack reaches past me to shut it himself. His arm brushes my breast, and as he does, I can’t stop my intake of breath. He meets my gaze, and I swear there is something flirty about the look in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he says softly. “Didn’t mean to feel you up.” He grins at me and I can’t help smiling widely back.

“Might be the only action I get this weekend—I’ll take it,” I joke, chuckling. His answering laugh is deep and gravelly. I follow him to his L-shaped couch and plonk down in my usual spot. “Although I wouldn’t want to step on Tom’s toes.”

He gives a small frown while he pours a decent sized glass of wine and hands it over. He seems to mull something over as he pours his own.

“We’re just friends with benefits,” he says quietly. “I’m not looking for anything serious.” He sits down beside me rather than on the adjacent seat and that’s different to usual. “So, how’s your week been? How’s that book coming along?”

I’ve been giving him updates each week on the plotting process. I take a deep breath and blurt out, “I’ve decided to do some in-person research.”

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