Page 10 of Stolen Faith

“What’s not?” Brennon asked.

Rowan was very glad the other man was here to ask the questions.

“I’m not going to be in the middle. This is a trinity, not a reverse harem.”

Rowan looked at the back of Izabel’s head. A what?

Brennon’s brows rose. “A what?”

“It’s clear you two aren’t well read, but we can fix that. A reverse harem is when instead of one man with many women who sleep only with him, the roles are reversed. One woman with multiple men, who sleep only with her.”

“Ah.” Brennon swirled his glass. “I’m guessing it’s the one-on-one aspect of it that you’re objecting to.”

“Exactly. I expect you two to have a relationship with each other. Maybe it’s not fully physical, if you’re so far to one side on the Kinsey Scale that you don’t physically desire anyone, but you’re not going to use me as a linchpin.”

“No, we aren’t,” Brennon agreed.

His gaze met Rowan’s, and Rowan’s cock twitched again. He’d never been with a man before. Homophobia was alive and well in the U.S. military, so he’d never felt like he had the opportunity to even flirt with another man, let alone try dating one in preparation for his future trinity.

“No,” Rowan seconded. He dropped his hand from Izabel’s hip and stepped back.

“That being said…” Izabel half turned and grabbed his hand. She tugged until he stepped forward, his chest against her back again. Rowan ducked his head and smiled against her hair. “I also really enjoy menage sex with two men.”

“Do you?” Brennon’s low question was heavy with need, and his gaze roved from Izabel’s very impressive breasts to where Rowan’s hand cupped her hip.

Rowan squeezed her, and Brennon smiled as Izabel made a breathy little noise.

“To us.” Brennon raised his glass.

“To us,” Rowan and Izabel said at the same time.

They clinked glasses, the heavy crystal chiming like bells.

Rowan took a small sip, then looked back for a place to set the glass aside. He was right in front of the bar cart, close enough that he could keep his hand on Izabel while he set the glass down.

He eyed the ice bucket.

He shouldn’t.

He should wait and follow their lead. Shouldn’t introduce any complexity to an already complex situation.

But Rowan had been holding himself so tight for so long. It was hard to stay closed and in control. He wanted…

No, that wasn’t it. He needed more. Needed to touch and be touched in ways that he hoped wouldn’t scare them.

He took a round ice cube from the bucket.

Brennon was watching him, and as Rowan turned back, Brennon wrapped his hand over Izabel’s on her glass. He guided Izabel’s glass to her lips. She sipped, and then Brennon took her glass, setting both his and hers on a side table near the small sofa.

Rowan pressed the ice to the top of her bare shoulder.

Izabel gasped, jerking in his arms. “What—”

He slid the ice down her chest, over her collarbone, to her cleavage.

Her startled question turned into a shiver that in turn became a moan.

Rowan reversed course, sliding the ice up the centerline of her body. She tipped her head back against him as he guided it up the graceful curve of her neck.

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