Page 89 of The Rest is History

“Anyway, I don’t know how to tell you this, Cameron. But according to Deliah, Sawyer came into the store with someone. A man.”

Honestly, I don’t know if I should pretend to be as shocked as he is, or if I should just play it cool. But it doesn’t matter. Principal Watson isn’t interested in a reaction from me. He’s only interested in telling his sensational story.

“Not someone we know from around here,” he says.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So, I told Deliah that it wasn’t any of our business, but I figured if Sawyer is having temptations, you’d better reel him in fast. I wanted to call you up last week but I thought, you know, I didn’t want to disturb you and everything.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” And because that non-reaction is coming out as suspicious, I add, “Uh, well. I know he has a new co-worker. Maybe they went to get lunch or something.”

Principal Watson gives me a long look. “Yeah. She said something about milk and peanut butter. So, you know the person?”

“Yes,” I say carefully. “Old friend, working together now.”

He laughs suddenly. “See? I knew it. I told Deliah the same thing. Must be a mutual friend of theirs. Anyway, at least you know now that I’ll always have your back. Even if it’s about Sawyer.”

I laugh too, but, fuck this is uncomfortable.

I’m just glad it’s only Principal Watson trying to save my marriage.

Chapter 42

Sawyer

I knew I was coming home to an empty house. Asher is having last-day drinks with his colleagues, and I dropped Reece off at home fifteen minutes ago. Still, entering the darkened space, I hate the emptiness of it.

I don’t bother with the lights, sinking into the couch, instead, rolling my neck to loosen some of the muscle coiled there. And from where I’m sitting, I take in my surroundings, appreciating the life I have.

I always wanted this life. Most people dream of leaving rural Iowa for the convenience and excitement of the city. Not me. Even as a sixteen-year-old boy, I knew that all I would ever want was someone to call home – a person, not a place – and a quiet place for us to lay our heads at night. Asher gave me the home I wished for. He is where I lay my head at night. He could have had anything in the world. Lived in any city he chose. He was intelligent enough, talented enough to do whatever he wanted with his life. And he chose me. He chose this quiet life and made me the happiest man on earth.

Now, he’s choosing again. I want this for him. It makes me happy to do this with him. For him.

And we’ll be happy. The three of us.

I send Asher a text to tell him I can pick him up if he has too many drinks. He texts back to say he can’t wait to get out of there and it’s outrageous for Reece to sleep at his apartment on the first night of summer vacation. I remind him that the rest of us still have to work, and he’s got two months of football camp, so he’s not exactly on holiday. The group chat explodes with Asher telling Reece he’ll pick him up in thirty minutes.

“Don’t you want Sawyer’s dick tonight?” his last text says.

They arrive home together forty-five minutes later. Asher is sober, looking like he needs to fuck me with that LINKSFIELD EAGLES cap he got turned backwards, and Reece looking like he's the one who went drinking with his friends. The dim light coming from the hallway does nothing to hide his pink cheeks and swollen lips. His t-shirt is pulled to the side and a deep purple smudge on the side of his neck looks fresh and lovely against his skin. My eyes shift to Asher, whose lips are wet and pink from use. I’m instantly hard, and, for a moment, I’m paralyzed by my response to where my husband’s mouth has been. My husband, who has never once judged me or denied me anything, who loved me even after I confessed my desire for another man, now stands in front of me with Reece’s saliva coating his lips. And I’m overcome with lust and love and need. For him, Asher. For Reece, who had his mouth on my husband just moments ago.

I move, deciding at the last minute to greet Reece first. His mouth opens beneath mine. Warm and soft. I reach out to pull Asher closer, my palm rubbing his concealed erection. He groans against the side of my neck while I fuck his lover’s mouth with my tongue. Our lover. Sliding my hand to the back of Reece’s neck, I weave my fingers into the hair at his nape, pulling.

“More,” Reece whispers breathlessly.

Asher joins me, scraping his teeth over Reece’s chin, licking up the side of his face and biting his cheekbone. “Always, Reece,” he whispers.

“Asher,” Reece groans into my mouth. My husband’s name on this man’s lips takes my breath away.

My cock is hard, hot; my balls aching for him and the man next to me. “Fuck me, Sawyer,” he whispers against my lips. “Please. I need you to fuck me.” He can’t breathe.

The muscles low in my belly clench, his words settling deep in the pit of my stomach, anticipation rising as I imagine being inside him tonight.

I slide my palm off Asher’s crotch to cup Reece’s cheek. “How do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” I ask, biting along his smooth jaw. Remembering how he loves my rough face, I graze my cheek against the side of his clean-shaven face, rubbing two days of scruff gently over his skin. He groans, lifting his face and turning into me, seeking a harder scratch. “Ah, fuck, Sawyer. Any way you want,” he chokes out. “Every way you want.”

“Fuck,” Asher breathes, lifting his face from my neck to gaze at Reece. He puts his thumb between my and Reece’s lips, separating our mouths, and slips it into Reece’s mouth. I turn to press my lips to Asher’s wrist while he pets Reece inside his mouth.

Reece’s eyes are closed, and his head is tipped back, and Asher is running the pad of his thumb over his lips. Round and round over those precious lips, parted now and blowing out short gasps.

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