Page 127 of Finding Their Place

I sipped on autopilot, not even tasting my coffee, my gaze riveted on Wyatt loving on my koala. Grunts and groans, the wet sounds of a sloppy blowjob, and curses filled my ears and dampened between my tightly clenched thighs.

Our honeymoon phase was going to be a fuckfest for the ages.

Nipples hard and core aching, I memorized the sight of Wyatt’s dark head moving over Garrett’s groin. Fingers pulling on mussed hair. Veined forearms. Rippling muscle over bare shoulders. Flexing pecs and a throbbing pulse along a neck.

Dark eyes hazed by passion firmly fixed on my face.

“Hal,” Garrett rasped my name, sending butterflies to flight in my belly and goosebumps over my skin.

“Give it to him,” I whispered.

“Fuck.” Garrett’s head tipped back, eyelids falling shut in a look I’d lusted over the day before. He came. Hard and in body-wrenching spurts, and I found myself swallowing as though he filled my watering mouth.

He gasped. Shuddered. Went lax against the counter.

Wyatt made an appreciative noise before standing, pulling up Garrett’s sweats along with him. Their lips met in a languid kiss as Wyatt tucked Garrett’s package away.

Smirking, turned on, but only wanting to enjoy my arousal, I sipped my coffee as my lovers shared the taste of Garrett’s spunk on Wyatt’s tongue.

Eventually, Wyatt backed off. He glanced over his shoulder, pink high on his cheeks, his eyes crystalline and more content than I’d seen before.

“Hi,” I said, knowing my own orbs revealed the same thoughts and feelings inside me. “Thanks for the coffee.” I grinned. “And the show.”

“You’re welcome.” He winked and turned back toward Garrett, kissing him on the nose. “Sit. Let me get your coffee.”

Garrett sank boneless into the only other chair we had at the table, and my gaze flitted between him and Wyatt moving around the kitchen to ready their mugs. Too much skin and delicious muscle.

“Sensory overload,” I murmured, my brain absolute mush. Good thing I didn’t have to work.

I pushed aside the flash of sudden negative feelings over my lack of a job as Wyatt turned toward us, a coffee in either hand. He glanced between us and the lack of a third chair.

“Living room?” he suggested.

Usually, Garrett and I would snuggle on the couch, but I realized things were going to change—definitely for the best.

I plopped down first since I refused to be the last one standing and needing to make a choice.

Wyatt sat on my left, and glancing between us, Garrett chuckled before settling on my right.

“How the fuck do poly relationships work?” he asked, angling toward me and lifting my leg over his.

“However we want,” I said with a shrug. “Whatever feels right.”

Wyatt sipped his coffee and stood back up. Garrett and I watched silently as he moved the coffee table and dragged the adjacent chair in front of us. He sat and pulled my foot not dangling between Garrett’s spread thighs onto his lap.

His dark eyes flitted over us, that contentment still radiating.

What would be weird and uncomfortable to a lot of people swelled happiness up inside me as warm, calloused palms caressed my thigh and foot.

I grinned like an idiot, thinking I could definitely get used to their pampering. “So.” I breathed the word. “Now what?”

“You come to work for me too, you both move into my house, and we live happily ever after.”

Garrett coughed at Wyatt’s firm statement, and I stared, searching Wyatt’s face.

He was serious.

His gaze stayed on mine. “Garrett told me how you finally stood up for yourself, and I’m so damn proud of you.”

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