Page 57 of Charlie

"That's not all." He clears his throat, glancing at Lach. "Emily is..."

"She's the girl I was telling you about – the one we both had a relationship with," Lach interjects.

"So you both lost her." I can't even begin to imagine a loss like that. My heart hurts for them. "Will you tell me about her?"

Jack looks at Lach, but he motions for Jack to tell me. He flops back against the pillows, his eyes closed, a small smile on his full lips. "We met her in our first year of uni. We were inseparable. She and I did everything together – same major, same graduation date. She wanted to settle down after graduation. Lach and our roommate moved to different schools, so she stayed with me – probably more for convenience, honestly. She didn't want to live all the way out here, so we leased a flat in Glasgow and lived there."

"I can't see you living the city life."

"I didn't love it, Sassenach." He looks over at me, the morning light making his eyes glow. "We lived there until the accident. I had grown to hate the place so much that I only grabbed a couple of things after she died. I had an estate manager sell the rest. I came back here the day after the funeral." He scrubs his hands over his face. "We weren't a perfect couple – if I'm being honest, we weren't compatible in many ways – but I did love her, and I would have loved that baby with my entire being."

He rolls onto his side, his gaze connecting with mine. "I don't want you to think she's a ghost that haunts me, Charlotte. It was a long time ago. I'm at peace now."

"Thank you for telling me." I cup his jaw and kiss him gently.

"Your turn," he says gruffly.

"I have nothing to tell you," I shrug, "Rob and Portree Guy are the only two people I've ever been involved with. Since you mentioned kids, one thing I need to say – even though this is ridiculously premature – is that I've been told the probability of me having kids is pretty slim. An inhospitable environment, or something like that."

"Well, fuck," Lach says.

My heart jumps to my throat.

"That's all you've got?" He crawls toward me, knocking my elbow from underneath me, so I'm flat on the bed. He traps my legs between his and reaches over me to pin my hands above my head. "Let's spice things up a little bit."

31

Istare at Lach as he stretches above me, all hard muscle and tanned, freckled skin. He groans and rolls his hips against me. I try to pull my hands out of his grip, but he holds on even tighter until I stop struggling. "Do you trust us?" he asks, tonguing the shell of my ear, his voice raising goosebumps on my arms.

I nod, arching my body against his, my nipples desperate for friction.

"Good." He releases me suddenly and climbs off the bed, walking to an antique armoire, and pulling out a plain cardboard box.

"What's that?" I ask, looking between them for an answer.

"We ordered a few things after our picnic the other day," Jack says, taking the box from Lach and setting it in front of me. I sit with one leg tucked underneath me as I open it and peer inside, pulling out the first thing I see. "A butt plug?" I raise an eyebrow, stifling an uncomfortable giggle.

Jack sits beside me, taking the package from me and opening it. "If – and I do mean if – you want to have sex with both of us, we need to get you ready first. If we don't take the time to stretch you, it'll hurt. I want you begging for more the first time I sink my cock into your luscious ass."

Heat throbs between my legs as I pull out the next thing. "Another one?"

"We got a few different sizes so that you can work up to the bigger one," Jack explains, pulling a third from the box and setting it on the bed.

"Hey, I thought one was for me," Lach protests, pulling the box across the bed so he can look inside.

"For you?" I squeak, a flood of desire drenching my bikini bottoms. I adjust my foot underneath me and push against my heel, desperate for relief.

Lach blushes. "We used to—" He stops short. "I'm bisexual, Charlie." The words tumble from his mouth.

My gaze flies to Jack. Did they...?

"I'm straight as a fucking arrow, Sassenach," Jack says, lifting his hands in the air like he wants nothing to do with this conversation.

"Before – when we were with Emily – our roommate and I sometimes..." He clears his throat. "I think you get the picture."

I can't breathe as my imagination takes over. Lach stretched over me, thrusting away as a shadowed mystery man rails him from behind. I rock my hips, rolling my clit over my heel. Fucking hell. I don't think I've been this turned on in my entire life.

"That doesn't mean—" Lach stammers, his cheeks paling a bit, misunderstanding my reaction.

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