Page 7 of Third Wheel

“Would it be terrible if I just stayed here and didn’t come out at all?”

“Of course not. No one is going to blame you for that,” her mother reassured her. She stepped forward, pulling Amy into a hug. “We’ll take care of everything.” With that sentiment repeated, she stepped back and gave her husband a nod right before he gave Amy his own hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, but when they parted, Zach wasn’t surprised to see that her eyes were still dry.

She really did have issues about crying in front of people if it was about her own emotions. That was why she needed the club, why she needed Zach. The more he’d gotten to know her, the more he’d realized she didn’t feel comfortable with people feeling like they had to take care of her—and if someone was crying, that was an indication they needed to be taken care of.

That was why it really was for the best if she came to stay with him and Kincaid. Otherwise, she was going to kill herself trying to keep it together for whoever she was with. Zach wouldn’t let her get away with that.

Kincaid

“Get this off of me.” Amy stared down at the dress she was wearing as if she’d never seen it before. Four shots in, and she was drunk as a skunk—and her bridesmaids weren’t much better off. Zach had a few, too. Kincaid was the only totally sober person in the room at the moment.

“What?” Morgan looked at Amy in adorable confusion.

Reaching down, Amy started tugging at the bodice of her dress. “This. Get it off me.”

“Okaaaaay.” Morgan moved around behind Amy and frowned. “Um…”

“What’s wrong?” Sam leaned over to see, a blonde lock of hair falling in her eyes.

“It’s all buttons. Teeny tiny buttons.”

“There’s no zipper?” Marissa asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Sometimes, the buttons are fake, and there’s a zipper underneath.”

Morgan reached out to touch the back of Amy’s dress.

“No zipper.” She frowned in concentration, fumbling at Amy’s back. “Why are they so small?”

“It’s couture,” Sam told her, then frowned. “They aren’t even buttons. It’s a bunch of tiny loops. What sadist designed this? Aren’t wedding dresses supposed to be easy to get out of?” Her expression turned to one of horror as she realized what she’d said, what she’d implied, as if Amy needed the reminder that her wedding night was not going to happen the way it was supposed to.

“Get it off me!” Amy shrieked, pulling harder at the front, her expression turning to panicked desperation. “Rip it, whatever, just get it off!”

“Here…” Zach shouldered his way in, reaching for the back of her dress. He tried to rip it, and though there was a small sound of fabric tearing, the dress did not open up the way he’d obviously intended. Under other circumstances, his dumbfounded expression would have been funny, but Amy was clearly working her way up to hysterics.

“Stop.” Kincaid’s command dropped into the room, making everyone freeze. “Move, Zach, I’ve got it.” He moved behind Amy. Yeah, a whole row of tiny buttons done with loops. Zach had managed to rip the very first loop out of the fabric, but thatwas it. Putting his hand on Amy’s shoulder, Kincaid could feel how clammy her skin was, could feel her shoulder rise and fall as she panted for breath. “Deep breath, Amy. In… and out. One more time for me. Good girl.”

He felt her sag against his hand at the ‘good girl.’ Poor little subby. She was having a hell of a day; she’d probably needed that.

“Everyone, just go back to what you were doing,” he told them. What they’d been doing had been talking shit about Jeremy and Noelle, some of which had been highly entertaining. Marissa and Carolyn had both been incensed at Noelle’s betrayal of the ‘sisterhood,’ something he found fascinating because Carolyn actually did cheat on her husband when she came to the club, and Marissa had never been known as particularly friendly among the other submissives.

Something about Amy brought out a protective streak in them, he supposed, though he’d also seen them treating her like a doormat. Maybe it was an ‘only I’m allowed to walk all over her’ mentality.

He could understand the protective streak.

As he made his way down the tiny row of buttons—seriously, who did this on a wedding dress? Unless the plan was to just flip her skirts up and— Nope, stop thinking about that. Thinking about what Amy was going to be doing on her wedding night while he undressed her made him feel incredibly awkward and incredibly guilty.

Undoing the buttons, he snuck a peek at Zach, who was watching them both.

He and Zach had shared women in the past, submissives, but never Amy.

And thinking about sharing Amy on what was supposed to be her fucking wedding day… what the fuck was wrong with his head? The intrusive thoughts were real. Though, maybe it wasn’tentirely his fault since he was undressing her, and the more buttons he got undone, the more of her underwear he could see.

She was wearing a lacy white corset underneath the dress, exaggerating her hourglass figure. It was pure lace and boning and probably a bit uncomfortable. Amy was a masochist, but considering she’d been close to trying to tear the dress off her, he doubted she wanted the corset on, either.

“Do you want me to loosen this?” he asked, tapping the back of it once he had the last button undone.

“Yes, please. There should be a robe…” She looked around as her voice trailed off, and Sam immediately jumped up and hurried over to the other side of the room where Kincaid now noticed a white satin robe draped over the back of a chair.

“I’ve got it!” Sam called out as she picked it up.

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