Page 16 of Better When Shared
They looked so fucking good together on that pier. Connor with his broad shoulders and easy stance, sleeves rolled up to expose forearms corded with lean muscle. And Nick, taller, with that mess of black hair whipping in the breeze, the sleeve of tattoos visible even from here when he cast his line with practiced grace.
Connor said something that made Nick throw his head back and laugh. The sound didn't reach me, but I could imagine it—that deep, rich chuckle that seemed to vibrate against my skin whenever I heard it. They bumped shoulders, comfortable in a way that made my chest ache with something far more dangerous than lust.
My two men.
The thought slipped in before I could catch it, and I tensed. Not mine. Not men, plural. Just Connor—my husband, my partner, the only man I was supposed to claim beyond this week. Nick was... what? A vacation fling? A shared experience? The term "third" felt too clinical for what had happened between us, but "lover" carried weight I wasn't supposed to acknowledge.
Vacation rules, I reminded myself. No jealousy. No limits. And most importantly, no commitments after this week. When we packed up the beach cabin on Sunday, Connor and I would return to Portland, Nick to Seattle, and this thing between us would evaporate like sea spray in the sun.
At least, that was the plan we'd all agreed to.
I turned away from them, unable to watch their easy camaraderie any longer without feeling that dangerous pull. The sand was cool beneath my bare feet as I followed the curve of the shoreline. The beach stretched empty in both directions—abenefit of vacationing in Newport during the off-season. I let my toes sink into the damp sand at the water's edge, the cold shock of it grounding me in my body.
My body that still bore their marks. The faint bruise on my inner thigh where Connor had gripped me too hard. The tender spot on my neck where Nick had sucked and bitten while I came around his cock. The pleasant burn in my ass from being filled there for the first time in my life, both men talking me through it with such tender patience.
Fuck. I needed perspective.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my cardigan and scrolled to my best friend Nisha's number. My finger hovered over it for a moment before I pressed call. If anyone could help me sort through this mess, it was my best friend. She'd seen me through every relationship crisis since freshman year of college.
"Well, if it isn't the woman on vacation," Nisha's voice came through after the third ring, warm and teasing. "I was beginning to think you'd drowned in the Pacific or been kidnapped by sexy fishermen."
I laughed, tension easing from my shoulders at the familiar cadence of her voice. "The sexy fishermen are purely recreational, I assure you."
"Are Connor and his friend out there pretending to fish instead of keeping you company? Shocking priorities," Nisha said. "Though I suppose you might need the break after—what did your text say? 'The best fucking of my life, times two'?"
Heat flooded my cheeks. "I was drunk when I sent that."
"Drunk and well-fucked, apparently," Nisha's laugh was musical. "God, I'm jealous. Julian's been lost in his work, and I'm starting to think my vibrator deserves billing as my primary partner."
"Trust me, the reality is more complicated than my drunk text made it sound," I said, kicking at a shell half-buried in the sand.
"Complicated how? Is Connor's friend not living up to expectations? Did his cock curve the wrong way? Because that's a legitimate concern."
"Nick's cock is perfect," I interrupted, then immediately regretted it when Nisha cackled.
"Oh my god, listen to you! 'Nick's cock is perfect,'" she mimicked. "Tell me everything immediately. How big? Cut or uncut? Does he know how to use it?"
I sighed, but couldn't help smiling. This was why I loved Nisha—no judgment, just genuine enthusiasm for my pleasure. "Bigger than Connor but not scary big. Cut. And yes, very much yes on knowing how to use it. He's... attentive."
"Attentive," Nisha repeated. "How did this even happen? I know you mentioned Connor's college friend was joining, but you didn't say anything about him joining you in bed."
I found a large piece of driftwood and sat, tucking my feet underneath me. "It wasn't planned. Or maybe it was, subconsciously? We've been friends with Nick for years, and there's always been this... undercurrent. But nothing ever happened until this trip."
"And now?"
"Now we've basically been having non-stop sex since we convinced him to join us." I trailed off, the memory of being filled by both men simultaneously making my breath catch.
"Holy fuck," Nisha breathed. "And how is it? Be honest."
"Intense. Overwhelming. So fucking good I thought I might pass out," I said.
"That sounds... incredibly intimate," she said, her tone shifting from playful to thoughtful.
"It was. It is. That's the problem."
"Ah," Nisha said, understanding immediately. "You're catching feelings."
It wasn't a question. I picked at a loose thread on my cardigan, watching it unravel slightly. "We made rules. Vacation rules. No jealousy, no limits, but also, it ends when we leave. It was supposed to be just a fun way to explore, to push our boundaries... He lives in Seattle, not Portland, so that part was supposed to be easy."
