Page 18 of Room Nine: Masters of Control

I threw out the sharing comment on a whim, but the look on his face told me I was one-hundred percent on point. I didn’t know that truly existed outside of porn. What would that be like, being shared between three men? It seems overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

I squeeze my thighs together, but that hurts, just like everything other part of my body. Stumbling out of bed, I pop eight hundred milligrams of Ibuprofen into my mouth before starting my coffee pot.

Once my coffee is brewed, I make myself an extra-large mug with frothed cream and settle onto my couch to check my phone. I have three missed text messages, one from each man who saved my life yesterday.

Kerr:Good Morning, Kitten. I hope you’re not too sore today. If it makes you feel any better, my eye looks ridiculous. I will get a bunch of shit about it at the office.

He sent me a selfie, and his eye looks bad.

I respond with: “Awwww, poor baby. Would you like me to kiss it better?”

O’Dell:It was interesting meeting you yesterday, Cupcake. I hope the next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances. We’d like to spend more time getting to know you. Stay safe and vigilant today. If you need anything from us, we’re one call away.

I respond with: “I’d like to get to know you guys, too, but without the explosions and near-death experience.”

Finally, I got a sweet note from Dem:I hope you slept well, Angel. We didn’t get nearly enough time together, but I can attest you were the best part of the last three months in that hellhole. If you need us, we’ll be there. Don’t be afraid to call us for anything.

He sent me a gif of a kitten snuggling up to three puppies. It’s so corny, it’s cute, and it definitely gives me ideas.

I respond with:Am I the kitten? That’s what Kerr keeps calling me.

Dem replies instantly.You are definitely the kitten, although I prefer to think of you as an angel.

Me:I’m no angel.

Dem:Of course, you are. Either that, or an angel brought you to us. One way or another, a celestial being was involved. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.

Yeah, I definitely felt something when our eyes locked yesterday. Almost like I recognized him, even though I would never forget a face like his.It wasn’t my brain putting two and two together; it was my heart. But considering I’ve never been in love, I don’t see how that is possible. Maybe it wasn’t my heart, but a muscle lower on my body.

For a woman who has been through the shit I’ve been through, I’m very sex positive. I refuse to let Brolin’s nightmare turn me into a shut-in or a prude. I refuse to let him take a healthy sex life or my self-confidence away from me, too.

Of course, everything has to be on my terms.

I fuck who I like when I like, and when I do, I’m always on top—working for my climax and not really concerned if my lover gets off.

Is that awful? Maybe, but I’ve never known a man to complain.

As long as he is kind and respectful, we can have a good time together. I’ve had a fewrelationships—if you can call them that—with men I’ve enjoyed for a couple months. Once they became too clingy, I sent them packing.

And, obviously, I attract the occasional nut job. I wonder what it is about me that draws guys with obsessive personalities who can’t take a hint?

More text messages come in. Two from Kerr, one from O’Dell, and one from Dem.

This is flattering, exciting, and ridiculous. If they really share their women, I suppose a group text is a natural step toward that possibility.

I open a new message, putting all three of them on it. “Do you realize you’re all talking to me at the same time?”

O’Dell:Yes

Dem:Yes

Kerr:Yeppers

Me:Smartasses

My phone rings, and it’s Kerr.

“Yes?” I put extra syrup in my voice.

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