Page 45 of Better When Shared
We finished in companionable silence, the domesticity of it calming. When we returned to the bedroom, Nisha had rolled onto her stomach, the sheet slipping down to reveal the curve of her ass. Caleb and I exchanged a look—half amusement, half hunger—and climbed back into bed on either side of her.
Without discussion, we both began to trace patterns on her back, his fingers skimming along her spine while mine circled the constellation of freckles on her shoulder, massaging her sore muscles until she made a contented sound. Our movements felt practiced, natural, despite the seven-year gap since we'd last shared a bed or a woman.
I couldn't help but notice the contrast of our hands against her golden-brown skin—my darker olive tone, Caleb's paler fingers. The sight of his hand on my wife's body didn't provoke jealousy; instead, it ignited something deeper, more primal. My eyes tracked the movement of his fingers, the care with which he touched her, and I found myself watching him as much as I watched her.
Nisha stirred beneath our hands, a soft moan escaping her lips. She rolled slightly, eyes fluttering open, a slow smile spreading across her face as she registered our positions.
"Morning, beautiful," I murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"Mmm," she hummed, stretching between us. "Best alarm clock ever."
Caleb chuckled, his hand continuing its gentle exploration of her back. "Sleep well?"
In answer, Nisha reached up, pulling him down into a kiss that looked soft and sweet and fucking hot all at once. Something twisted in my gut—not quite jealousy, not quite arousal, but a heady mixture of both. Then she rolled onto her back and turned to me, lips meeting mine with familiar passion.
When she pulled back, her eyes gleamed with mischief. "I have a request," she said, looking between us.
"Anything." I said.
Her smile widened. "I want to watch you two kiss."
The air left the room. My heart stuttered, then raced. I looked at Caleb, whose expression shifted from surprise to something darker, more considering. We'd shared women before, touched the same bodies, even made eye contact during intense moments. But we'd never crossed that line.
I frowned down at her. “You want us to kiss? But don’t you like the attention focused on you?”
She grinned. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love having two guys shower me with their attention, but… I don’t know. It’d be hot? Like you are both so sexy to me.”
"It would turn you on?" Caleb asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “Please? Just so I can see how hot it is. It would be so sexy.
His eyes found mine, questioning. "We might as well, right? For Nisha."
My mouth went bone dry. "Right," I managed. “For Nisha.”
"Fuck yes," Nisha breathed, scooting to sit against the headboard to give us space. "Please?"
Caleb moved first, shifting closer until our faces were inches apart. I could smell the mint on his breath, see the faint stubble along his jaw, the small scar near his chin I'd noticed when we first met. His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, warm and steady.
"Okay?" he whispered.
I nodded, unable to form words nervous and excited all at once. And then his lips were on mine, tentative at first, just a brush of contact. Something electric shot through me, a current I hadn't expected, and I gasped against his mouth. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against mine, and holy fuck—this was Caleb, my roommate, my friend, and his mouth felt incredible.
He tasted like toothpaste, and his technique confident without being aggressive. My hand found his shoulder, fingers digging into muscle as the kiss intensified. In some ways, it was the same as kissing a woman, but he was rougher, stronger, more with hard angles and insistent pressure. Even the faint scrape of stubble was unexpectedly pleasant. Unexpectedly arousing.
Nisha made a small, pleased noise, and I pushed in closer, devouring him now, with one hand cupped around the back of his head. He slid his arms around my back, his body arching against mine as if he was desperate to be closer to me, desperate to taste all of me.
When we broke apart, I was breathing hard, my cock erect against my stomach. Caleb looked similarly affected, pupils blown wide, breathing unsteadily. And he was as hard as I was. Beside us, Nisha watched with parted lips, her chest rising and falling.
"Fuck," she whispered. "That was even hotter than I imagined."
Caleb laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension. "Glad to provide quality entertainment."
But I couldn't laugh, couldn't speak. My mind was reeling, reorganizing years of memories through this new lens. Had I always been attracted to Caleb? Had our shared sexual adventures been as much about being close to him as they were about the women we touched? The possibility that I'd buried these feelings, even from myself, hit like a physical blow.
Nisha must have sensed my internal chaos, because she reached for me, pulling me into a kiss that grounded me, reminded me of us. But even as I lost myself in her familiar taste, part of me was hyper-aware of Caleb watching, of his presence beside us.
"My turn," she murmured, pressing close, setting me free from thinking too hard about the kiss, and then his mouth was on her neck as I claimed her lips again. He was so close, and now, just as tempting as her.
