Page 99 of Better When Shared
When I was naked, they tugged me between them, warm bodies creating a cocoon of satisfaction and possibility. Outside, the rain was back, pattering against the windows, ensuring we'd have more time to explore whatever this was becoming.
Perfect.
Chapter 14
Tristan
I woke late in the afternoon to filtered sunlight, and the scent of skin warmed by sleep. I never slept during the day, and in any other circumstances, it would have thrown me into a spiral of guilt and anxiety.
But with Juniper and Marco, work was the last thing on my mind. I'd made a few calls, but Gemma had assured me she had it handled.
I forced myself to trust my cousin, because the other option was untenable. The other option meant heading back to Bath, and letting this end before it had really started. And I knew that there was more to come. My body was heavy with satisfaction, muscles loose in ways I couldn't remember experiencing. Juniper lay curled against my left side, her curls tickling my shoulder, while Marco's solid presence anchored my right.
The light streaming through mullioned windows painted everything in shades of gold and amber. The ruins of my crochet creation lay scattered across the floor like evidence of transformation, but I didn't care about the destroyed hours of work. I had the memory of Juniper writhing beneath me, wrapped up and on display in my yarn. My mind was already spinning through sinful ways I could craft something that would display her body just for us.
"Mmm," Juniper murmured against my chest, her lips brushing skin that was still hypersensitive from last night's discoveries. "What time is it?"
I glanced toward the ornate clock on the nightstand, though the numbers seemed less important than the weight of her head on my shoulder. "Just past two."
She lifted her head to study my face, those dark eyes searching for something I wasn't sure I could name. There were faint circles under her eyes that spoke of a restless night, but her smile was soft and satisfied.
"No regrets?" she asked.
"None."
Marco stirred beside me, his movements lazy and unguarded in ways that made my chest tight. His hair was mussed from sleep and sex, dark strands falling across his forehead in patterns that made my fingers itch to smooth them back. When he stretched,muscles rippling, I caught myself staring at the play of light across his shoulders. At his tattoos.
I'd never been with a man before, but fuck was he tempting.
"That was a nice nap," he said, his voice rougher than usual with sleep. The sound sent heat curling through my belly, an automatic response that should have surprised me but somehow didn't.
Marco was beautiful. Not in the soft, luscious way I appreciated in women, but in a way that was purely masculine. He was all hard lines, lean muscle and confidence. He had the kind of masculine grace that only came when a guy was comfortable in his own skin. When had I started noticing men this way? When had the architecture of male bodies become something that made my mouth water?
Maybe always. Maybe I just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. The way I looked at actors in films just as often as I looked at actresses. The way I enjoyed the physicality, the raw, filthy masculine energy of sports, more than I enjoyed the game itself.
His knee brushed against my thigh under the rumpled sheets. It was a casual contact that shouldn't have meant anything, but it sent electricity racing up my spine, made my breath catch. The touch was innocent and accidental, but my body responded like he'd deliberately stroked my cock.
Marco's dark eyes found mine, and something flickered there. Recognition, maybe. Understanding. Like he'd felt the same spark of contact, the same involuntary response.
"You two are thinking too hard," Juniper observed, amusement threading through her voice. "I can practically hear the gears turning."
She pushed herself up to a seated position. The sheet fell away to reveal her lovely breasts as she crossed her legs and leaned forward and stroked her husband's cheek.
"Maybe you should just kiss," she continued, that mischievous smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "See what it's like without me as a buffer. Marco is bi, you know."
The suggestion hung in the air like a challenge, and I felt my pulse kick against my throat. Kiss Marco. Find out what his mouth tasted like. What a man's mouth felt like.
Marco's expression shifted, vulnerability replacing the easy confidence I'd grown accustomed to. He looked younger suddenly, uncertain in ways that made something protective stir in my chest.
"I'd love to kiss you." The quiet, plainly worded admission tore something open in my chest. "I hope that's okay," he continued, dark eyes searching my face for a reaction. "I mean, I'm happy if you're just into Juniper. More than happy. But I was hoping..." He trailed off, then seemed to gather courage. "That's how we knew you were for us. Juni and I were both drawn to you fromthe moment we met. From the moment we saw you across that hotel lobby."
Both of them. Not just her.
"Tristan?" Juniper's voice was gentle, concerned, and she reached out and stroked my chin. "You okay?"
I was staring at Marco like he'd just solved some complex equation I'd been struggling with for years. Because he’d named the thing I'd been too afraid to acknowledge, given shape to a desire I'd buried so deep I'd convinced myself it didn't exist.
I was bisexual. I was into both men and women. And it should have been obvious to me from the start.
