Page 37 of Washed Up
Wynter and Reid look up keenly, and then all three men look at me.
“What exactly are we negotiating?”
“Now and tomorrow,” Wynter says. “Iris, do you want to be in a relationship with us?”
I suck my lips together. Tears prickle my eyes. I do. I so desperately want this. It’s still hard to let that desire out into the world and not keep it tucked inside my chest, all safe and tiny, rather than setting it free and allowing it to grow into something sprawling and messy and likely painful too. I goldfish my mouth a few times, but the requisite ‘yes’ fails to come out.
“Argh! Everybody be fucking honest, okay? On a scale of one to ten how much do you want to get laid tonight? Show of fingers, now.” Reid signals ten before he even stops talking.
After a moment, Max does the same, as does Wynter.
“Iris?” the latter prompts. “It’s a straightforward question.”
I uncurl my fingers. Why is this easier than saying yes?
“That’s pretty unanimous,” Max says, pushing his sleeves up.
“All we’ve established is that everyone is horny,” Wynter contributes.
“Question two. Iris—”
“Don’t just pick on me.”
“Fine. Stick your mitts up if you’re cool with the idea of us all getting it on together.” There’s another tentative show of hands.
“And hands up again if you want this to be an ongoing affair.”
To everyone’s astonishment Wynter puts his hand up first. “What?” The incline in his ski-slope brows increases. “You said we had to be fucking honest, so I’m being fucking honest. If it works and we’re happy with it, then why not pursue it?”
“No arguments from me,” Reid says.
“Max?”
“As long as there’s not a rule that says we’ve always all got to be together. I like alone cuddle time with Iris.”
“Any of us can pair up, or throuple up, any way we like. If you’re fine with that, say, yay.”
They all say yay.
“Iris?”
It’s big girl panties time. “Yay.” My voice comes out so high-pitched it makes everyone laugh. When they stop, I remove my fingers from in front of my mouth and look to each of them in turn. They’re all so different, but that’s what makes this perfect. Each of them offers something the others don’t. Max with his hugs. Impish Reid, and Wynter, the man I’m only just starting to get to know. “I want tonight, and tomorrow,” I say, my voice finding its strength. “I’d like a lot of tomorrows. A lot of tomorrows with all of you, and I hope you want the same with me.”
“Fucking course we do.” Reid tips forward onto his knees. “Max, some party hats, please, we need to celebrate. Ariel, get your beautiful arse down here, honey.” He pats the sofa.
Max gets up, and I slide off the arm into the space he’s just vacated. Reid leans over my lap and slides a hand along my jaw and into my hair. I meet his warm hazel eyes and my heart throbs an extra beat. Our mouths meet in a slow collision, while Max and Wynter close in on either side of me. They touch me, stroking my neck, my shoulders, and thighs, then Max cups one breast and Wynter the other. I lose my borrowed shirt and jeans. Max undoes his fly. I put my hands on him, while Reid continues to destroy me with his kisses. He and Wynter swap places, so that Reid is knelt beside me on the sofa, and Wynter’s between my legs.
I guess it makes sense that we’d cement our relationship all together like this.
Wynter kisses my inner thighs, while his hand slides up the right. It’s my first time with him. It makes me a little shy, or as shy as you can be when three men are undressing and caressing you.
I’m relieved of my panties and am thus left naked between the three still clothed men. Reid immediately ditches his T-shirt, presenting me with his now familiar inked chest.
Wynter’s mouth looms over my split. “Please,” I gasp.
He pauses. Sheds his shirt while my eyes rake him in hungered arousal. Fuck, he’s pretty. Honed to wiry perfection. Not a speck of hair on him, his nipples pastel pink spokes.
“Where is it you want to feel my mouth, Iris?”
