Page 33 of Bound By Mistake
What exactly did that mean?
It’s too much to contemplate all at once. The more I turn things over in my mind, the more confused I get, so I make a promise to myself to just get my life back under control, sit on it for a few days, and then decide where I’m at.
Of course, that’s easier said than done, when my dreams are filled with the three of them. Erotic memories of all the things they did to me, woven into lucid nocturnal delights that have me climaxing in my sleep and waking up sweaty, and feverish, and desperately missing their unique brand of painful pleasure.
Every morning, I wake up with my body begging for them, and snatch up the business card, thinking I’ll use the damn number on it to contact them… And then common-sense kicks in. The mundane reality of everyday life, and I throw the card back into my bedside drawer.
But what I don’t do is get rid of it. It remains within easy reach, tempting me; intriguing me. Enticing me to dial the number and see where this might go.
Because the truth is, now that I’ve had a week to think, to contemplate, to ruminate, to assess. Time to get a new phone, my life back, to return to work; now I can no longer deny the fact that I miss them.
For some reason, my life suddenly feels like something is missing. What I had previously thought of as contentment, I now perceive as dull.
I have a decent job, my own apartment, a tight friend group, and a fun social life. I’m between relationships, but that didn’t bother me. I’ve never been one to rush into something like that. But the more time passes, the more I feel their loss.
My welts and bruises heal and fade, and for some stupid reason that makes me cry.
What the actual fuck?
But it’s like I’ve lost my final link to them. The last physical evidence of the time we all spent together.
And still that damn business card mocks me.
Which is why, in a moment of weakness, I dial the freaking number.
Chapter
Twenty-One
GRAY
Cain, Erik and I have a standing business lunch, catered in our boardroom, every Friday, where the three of us come together - unofficially - to have a relaxed, informal chat about our working week and the things that have gone right or wrong. Stuff we’re pleased with or concerned about. We’ve done it ever since we sat together, just like this, in a coffee shop just off campus, discussing what we wanted to do with our lives after we graduated. It was the time all our daydreams and fantasies coalesced into something tangible, and the same is as true now as it was then.
Today though, all of us are uncharacteristically quiet.
I know why. We’re all thinking about Sierra. We have been since the long drive home when we discussed the weekend and everything about it.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Cain, impatient as usual, demands. “Are we going to get in touch with Primal Fantasies and ask them to forward our details to Sierra?”
Cain had wanted to do it immediately, but since it concerned the three of us, we’d decided to wait a few days and make sureit was definitely something all of us were on board with. It’s a pivotal decision, not something we can afford to get wrong. Too many people are involved for that.
“I want to go ahead and contact her,” Erik said, giving his head a decisive nod. Which means it’s down to me. My two closest friends look at me, expectantly, but I know they’ll either back down, or approach Sierra without me, no questions asked, if I say no.
And it’s not that I don’t want to, I do. But it’s a big decision. We’re a Fortune 500 business, and we get a lot of scrutiny. The three of us sharing a woman isn’t something we can keep secret for long, so we need to be sure we’re doing the right thing. For us, for our business, and for Sierra.
If she even agrees. There’s no guarantee she will.
Before I can respond, our receptionist knocks on the door and pokes her head around. “Sorry to disturb you, Sirs, but I took a call earlier.”
She frowns and shakes her head. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should even bother you with this…” The way she pauses highlights her uncertainty, but then she shrugs. “But you can decide for yourselves.”
“You made the right call, Tina. What is it?”
“A woman rang. She wanted to speak to either one of you. The way she spoke… well, it seemed like it was important, but when I told her you were all in a meeting, she rang off. So, like I said, not a lot to tell, really.”
“Did she leave a name and number, Tina?” Cain asks, his brow raised.
“She didn’t leave a number, but she told me her name was Sierra. Does that mean anything to you?”
