Mitchell always had a presence about him, but it hit Hannah way more intensely when he was standing in the doorway of her home. He wasn’t a large man, but he seemed to take up more space than Ben did, and Ben was quite a bit taller. Ben’s charisma and charm filled the space, but with Mitchell, it was something more quiet and intense. That intensity drew her and simultaneously kept her frozen in place in the doorway.
After a moment, he gave her a wry smile. “You gonna let me in? Or are we having this conversation on the doorstep?”
Hannah stepped aside, laughing but also flustered. “I was thinking about asking you some riddles before I let you in.”
“I don’t have much patience for riddles. You’d be better off with Ben. He’s the genius in our partnership.” He looked around. “This is a nice house.”
“You want the dime tour?”
“Sure. Show me around.” Mitchell strolled in, hands clasped behind his back, casually looking around like he had all the time in the world. She walked him around the first floor, half-heartedly explaining some things about the house. Really, though, it was hard to keep herself calm in his presence. He was like a whole different person right now, his energy all different. Did she even know him at all? She seldom saw him outside of work mode. He was either at the restaurant, moving briskly from one task to the next, or he was at the Chamber of Commerce meetings, taking notes and representing his business. Yeah, he was always intense, but this was different intensity. She could feel him near her. He had barely touched her last night, and her body had burned like a thousand matches caught fire under her skin. She’d been so cavalier about inviting him to her house, expecting that under that reserved exterior was someone shy who just needed some coaxing. As he brushed past her to look at a painting on the wall, moving like a lithe animal, it seemed she might have been very, very wrong. He hadn’t been shy. He had been waiting. And damn, that was sexy as hell.
She grasped for a topic of conversation. “You want to talk about Fall Festival?”
Mitchell put his hands in his pockets and turned. “Ben went over all of it already. You can go over it again if you want, but I think it sounds great. We’re ready to move forward.”
She should have known. “So, you don’t need to talk more about it?”
Mitchell raised both eyebrows. “Hannah, neither of us is here so you can go over Fall Festival information with me.” He tipped his head to the side. “Right?”
Hannah licked her lips. “Well, I’m here because I live here.”
Mitchell chuckled. He always gave her those tight-lipped smiles, but his laugh was low and rough, a laugh she could feel. “And you invited me.” He looked toward the staircase, then back at her. “Do you want to take me upstairs, or not?”
The breeze blowing in from outside had cooled Hannah’s bedroom to an early fall briskness, but the moment Mitchell stepped in the room with her, the temperature jumped several degrees. He didn’t waste any time, stepping into her personal space so she backed instinctively against the wall, pinning her without touching her at all. Fuck, she was wet, and he hadn’t laid a hand on her. It shouldn’t be possible to want this much all at once. Mitchell braced himself with a hand on the wall next to her head, studying her like he was seeing her for the first time.
“I don’t do this a lot, you know.”
Hannah felt a rush of different emotions. “Ben said you two have been fucking around for a couple of years now.”
Mitchell smiled. “Yeah, that’s right. But this.” With his free hand, he touched her lightly on the breastbone, one finger resting on her sternum. “Casual fucking. I don’t do it a lot.”
His touch, that one point of contact, burned like a live wire even through her clothing. Hannah’s voice sounded breathless in her ears. “I don’t imagine you do very much that’s casual.”
His eyes sparkled. “Now you’re getting it.”
“I don’t have to do casual.” Hannah wanted this, wherever it was going, and the heat under her skin threatened to consume her before they even got started. “But I am going to explode if you don’t touch me soon.”
Mitchell smiled. No, not smiled. Smirked. He smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing. Somehow, she had never realized Mitchell Fredericks was a Dominant, and damn, what an oversight to make.
“Touch you?” He moved his hand up from her chest to the back of her head, sliding his fingers through her long hair and then tightening his hand into a fist. He pulled her hair perfectly, just hard enough to send tiny needles of pain through her scalp and tingles of pleasure into her clit. With that grip, he held her in place and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I can touch you if you’d like.”
Jesus. She wanted his mouth on hers, but instead, he began nibbling his way from her ear down her jawline. He held her motionless as his lips evoked sparks and shivers from her oversensitized nervous system. She let out a whimper, and his lips curled up in a smile against her skin.
“I like that sound,” he whispered hot on her jaw.
He moved down, tipping her head to the side to give him better access to her neck. When he reached the sensitive dip of flesh where her neck met her shoulder, he slowly sank his teeth into that pressure point until she let out a moan that she had never made beyond the context of actual sex. Mitchell didn’t let her squirm; she shifted, but she couldn’t go far. She was trapped, and just thinking about being trapped beneath him heightened all her senses. Maybe, right here, she would collapse.
“Hannah.” He brushed his lips against her collarbone and then lifted his head. She had to struggle to focus on him. “You want this?”
She nodded, feeling his hand still in her hair, loosely cupping the back of her head.
“Can you use words?” He smiled, teasing, and she relaxed a bit. This was Mitchell, and she knew him; he wasn’t just this dominant stranger taking her apart with barely any effort at all.
“Yes, you ass, I want this.”
“Good.” He let go of her hair, settling his free hand down on her hip in a neutral position. “Safety talk?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Hannah smiled. “I talked to Ben about this. He told me you guys get tested regularly.”
“Always negative, always protected.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You?”
“Same.” She grabbed his shirt. “Now, will you please keep going?”
“You getting bossy?” He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples through her bra, light and teasing and not nearly enough. “Hmm?”
“Yes. I’m very bossy.” She slid her hands over his shoulders and down his back. Muscles. Yeah, she could stand in support of those. “And what I really want is for you to kiss me.” She tipped her head. “How’s that for using my words?”
Mitchell gave her a half smile, his eyes darkening with desire. She pulled him up against her, his hard body pressing into hers, and he wrapped his arms around her to finally—finally—kiss her on the mouth.
Mitchell kissed like he seemed to do everything: methodically, thoroughly, purposefully. There were no teasing nips or licks, just deep, soul-baring exploration, no holding back on the intimacy that he dropped into headfirst. Hannah didn’t usually feel like she was being consumed by a kiss, but just in this space, right now, she could dissolve into him and never have existed. This was not just intense. This made her nerve endings go frazzled, short-circuiting her brain, and she didn’t even register that he’d moved her away from the wall until she felt her knees hit the side of the bed and she tumbled backward.
“Holy shit.” She propped herself up on her elbows, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “You really don’t do this halfway, do you?”
“I don’t, no.” Mitchell smiled wickedly. “Now, take off your clothes for me.”
He said it so casually, but his tone didn’t invite refusal, and that order curled her toes on its own. He watched her as she undressed, and her hands shook like crazy under his focused gaze. Hannah pulled off the rest of her clothes and tossed them aside, and now she was grinning even though the very air felt charged with sexual tension. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her, and man, she could get used to this.
Hannah stretched out on her side, facing him, and he took his time looking her up and down.
“You are…gorgeous.”
She flushed. “What about you?” He was still completely clothed. “You going to get naked anytime soon?”
“We’ll get there.”
Mitchell climbed gracefully onto the bed with that litheness she’d noticed downstairs. He moved like an animal, measured and precise, maybe like a big cat. He climbed onto the bed next to her and, with a hand on her shoulder, rolled her onto her back on the bed. Then, without further ado, he inched his way down her body and pushed her legs apart.
Fuck, just like this? No preamble, no other touching, and he was staring right at her folds, his strong hands holding her thighs spread. Embarrassment and arousal warred inside her: being so exposed wasn’t supposed to turn her on like it did. She was dripping. Hannah slid an extra pillow below her head, propping herself up, looking down the length of her body at the highly erotic sight of him lying down between her legs and studying her like one might study a rare flower. She had to breathe. She was going to pass out if she kept holding her breath, but breathing seemed way too difficult.
Mitchell traced his fingers up and through her wet folds with a steady, slow swipe, running two fingers through her cleft and up over her clit. The arousal hit her like a jolt, hips arching up off the bed out of reflex. Fuck.
He chuckled. “Are you a little sensitive?”
Hannah nodded, gripping the comforter, smiling even as she felt overwhelmed and, honestly, a little nervous. This was all happening in the wrong order; she didn’t know what to expect from him. The unpredictability shook her more than she had thought it would.
“I love looking at you like this, close up.” Mitchell spread her folds open, using his fingers to part her lips and expose the heart of her sex. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
He sounded reverent, and god, if that didn’t push all kinds of weird buttons inside her. Hannah couldn’t respond. Her throat had closed up, tension and emotion and vulnerability and just plain raw arousal silencing her.
Mitchell put his mouth directly over her clit and sucked the entire thing into his mouth.
Hannah cried out and twitched, her thighs reflexively trying to close and squeeze him away, but she was held in place by his hands. Oh, that was intense. Intense, amazing, overwhelming, everything all in one, and she suddenly couldn’t parse exactly what he was doing with his mouth because it was yes, this, now, good.
She was making noises, mindless whimpering noises. Fuck, how did he get to be so good at this? Slowing her breathing, she tried to calm herself down, to keep from ratcheting up and over the edge too quickly. Deep breaths. Deep, slow breaths. With her attention focused again, she could feel the long, steady laps of his tongue over her bud, alternating with suction, a changing variety keeping her on the edge of an orgasm but not quite bringing her there.
When he stopped, she couldn’t help pushing her hips forward, toward his mouth. He lifted his head, mischief in those eyes. “You want more?”
“Yes.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Please.” She had no intention of playing games here, not with a potentially incredible orgasm just a bit beyond her grasp, and she wriggled in his grip. “Please make me come.”
“Do you really want that?”
Hannah looked down, incredulous. Was he serious? “Why the fuck would I not want that?”
He swiped his tongue once over her clit, and she jerked in his grip reflexively.
“Because,” he answered, “sometimes it’s fun to be teased.”
“Okay, yeah. Sometimes. Not right now.” She tried to push herself forward into his mouth again. “Please?”
He held eye contact, his mouth so close she could feel his breath whispering across her skin, making her wait an interminable length of time. Finally, he nodded.
“If you insist,” he murmured.
It wasn’t often that Hannah’s brain became so hyperfocused during sex, but it wasn’t often that she got eaten out with such precision, either. The climax built all the way from her ankles, rolling up through her body, thin currents of electricity that tingled and sparked and warmed her until yes, there it was, right there, the edge that she so desperately sought, the pleasure building right beyond the peak.
Her climax overtook her like a force of nature, seizing up her muscles in a paroxysm of overwhelming pleasure. She came hard, his mouth on her the entire time, sucking and licking her through, drawing out the waves longer than should have been possible for her, her hips jerking as she arched up against his mouth. She gripped the comforter, threw her head back, and lost herself in the searing-hot intensity of orgasm.
Coming down, she flopped her limbs off to the side, boneless in the aftermath.
“Fuck. Me.”
She couldn’t move right away. In her limp relaxation, Mitchell got up, left her line of sight for a couple of moments, and then stretched out on the bed next to her with a smug grin on his face.
Mitchell smiled. “I like doing that.”
“Yeah, you think?” In the giddy aftershocks, Hannah had to laugh. “You might have killed me. I’m completely unable to move. Exhausted.” She let her head loll to the side and closed her mouth, tongue out in a parody of death.
Mitchell made an exaggerated noise of despair. “Oh no! Death by orgasm! I killed her!”
Hannah opened her eyes again and smiled. “You have. I am dead.”
“That is a shame. I am most definitely not dead.” Mitchell cupped his erection through his jeans, and Hannah felt a flutter of interest again. Damn, that was sexy.
“Well, I think my death is temporary. A little death, as it were.”
Mitchell grinned. “Are you making a French joke? La petite mort? The little death?”
Color her surprised. “I am. Since when do you speak French?”
“I don’t speak French, but I know that one.” Mitchell scooted closer. “And I can cook French.”
Hannah reached up to pull his head down to her. “And kiss French.” She tasted her own muskiness on his lips.
Mitchell groaned quietly against her mouth. “I want to fuck you.”
“I want to be fucked.”
“This is a good arrangement.” He grinned. Sitting up, he pulled off his shirt.
Damn, those muscles. She had to ogle. “Fuck, how often do you work out?”
“Six days a week.” He didn’t sound like he was bragging, but he was very matter-of-fact about it.
“Doing what?”
“I do Crossfit and yoga. Sometimes I run or swim.”
Hannah let out a breath of laughter. Great. “I am so not that ambitious.”
“You own your own business. You’re clearly more than a little ambitious.”
Hannah’s smile felt stiff. Sure, her own business. The business that was about to go under if she didn’t turn things around. The business that she had been so determined to run on her own, to prove that she could be independent and successful. The damn albatross around her neck.
Mitchell must not have noticed the change in her smile, and who would have in these circumstances? Regardless, her mood changed quickly when she saw his gaze return to the armoire. He got to his feet and walked over, hands on his hips, shirtless but still half dressed. “A bureau, a closet, and this. So what are the odds this is full of clothes?”
Ha. “Not very good.”
He smiled. “Can I look in here?”
“Please.” A guy who was intrigued by her toys? Perfect.
Mitchell opened both doors and whistled. “Damn.” The cabinet was filled, each shelf organized and stocked wall to wall with a whole array of her favorite items. Mitchell picked up a paddle hanging just inside the door. He slapped his palm with it. “You like this?”
Hannah flushed. She didn’t let just anyone spank her. Her partners never took it seriously, never did it the way she liked it, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up. “I do, yes.”
Mitchell smacked the paddle against his hand again, and that satisfying thump made Hannah’s pussy clench. “How much?”
She could play it off here, like she usually did, but something told her not to. “A lot.” She swallowed. “Have you ever paddled someone before?”
“No.” Mitchell smacked it against his hand again. “But I’ve given some really good spankings, I think. Now and then I get a partner who’s into it.”
Damn, that was a mental image for the ages. Mitchell, calm and serious, holding someone down and spanking their bare ass. Holding another woman down. Holding Ben down. Fuck, no matter who she pictured, it was hot as hell. Hannah swallowed. No way she was going to turn this down. She got onto her hands and knees.
“Okay. Hit me. Medium.”
Mitchell paused. “Don’t you want a safe word?”
Hannah sat back on her heels. “I’d rather just tell you what I like. If it’s okay with you, we can stick to no meaning no. I don’t generally use safe words unless I want to struggle and fight and say no and not have you stop.” She smiled, biting her tongue as she did so. “But I don’t want you to fight. I want you to hit me. Give me what you think is a medium hit.” She got back onto her hands and knees and wiggled her ass at him.
Mitchell wound up and smacked the fleshy part of her bottom with the paddle. She let out a yelp, but it was out of surprise instead of pain. That light sting was gorgeous.
“Oh. Nice.” She let her head hang. “Harder? That was…like, a five. Can you give me a seven?”
His next stroke was a bit harder, landing on the other cheek, and it made such a satisfying sound, the resonance running through her body, that she had to groan. “Fuck. That’s good. Just like that?”
“Absolutely.” His voice sounded husky with want.
The man could paddle. Like, really paddle. A few strokes and he was into it, confident and powerful, and Hannah was a mewling mess in no time at all. He wasn’t hitting too hard, except once or twice, and with the strength and control he had over his muscles, he was able to hit her perfectly over and over. Her ass must be red, the color probably blooming under his strokes, her skin burning hot. Everything dissolved except the solid sound of the paddle on her ass and the stinging of her skin.
His sudden light touch on her warm flesh made her jump, the contact of his hand rather than the paddle pulling her out of her meditative state. She’d let her head and shoulders collapse down to the bed, and now she lifted them to look behind her. Mitchell’s eyes looked dark and feral, and he still held the paddle in one hand. Damn, she was suddenly as horny as if she’d never come.
Hannah needed to get her hands and her mouth on him, right now. She crawled over to him and then sat up on her knees to unfasten his belt buckle, needing what was inside, needing to get at his body. He let her undress him, helping her push the pants and boxers down over his narrow hips so the rest of his clothes fell in a pile to the floor.
Mitchell had a really nice cock. It wasn’t a monster cock like Ben’s, sure, but she didn’t want to have that all the time. Slightly over average length, if she could judge by sight, but thick, hard, perfectly proportionate to this average-height, muscular man. And she wanted it in her hands, in her mouth, in her pussy.
She wrapped both hands around him and began to stroke, and Mitchell let out his breath in a huff. “Not wasting time, huh?”
“Nope.” She shifted to sit back on the bed but then yelped as her sore ass landed on the bed. She paused in her stroking. “Fuck! That stings.”
“Good sting? Or bad sting?”
“Good sting.” She adjusted to carefully sit down. “So good. I can’t describe it.” That searing burn brought her into her body and out of her head. She slid off the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Without further preamble, she took him down into her mouth.
Sucking cock was seriously underrated. She loved the thick weight of him, the way he filled her mouth, the sweet, clean smell of his skin.
Mitchell’s hand went reflexively to the side of her head, but he didn’t pull, touching and then moving away. No, she didn’t want careful. She had had a touch of his dominance and wanted more. Grabbing his wrist, she pressed his hand into her hair.
Thank god for quick learners. He closed his fist on her hair, gripping her tight enough to hurt her scalp, and then began to slowly fuck her face. Hannah relaxed her jaw, closed her eyes, and relished this helpless sensation. She couldn’t overpower him. She couldn’t get away. She was at his mercy, fucked in the mouth like a whore, and that fantasy had her dripping in no time.
Her clit slid between her fingers, soaked and needy, and she began to rub.
“You like sucking my cock?” he asked, his voice sounding strained. “You want me to fuck your mouth while you play with your pussy?”
Jesus, she hadn’t expected dirty talk, and it was amazing.
“Don’t come, though. Get yourself nice and close to the edge.”
Hannah’s pussy clenched around nothing, and she sucked harder on the cock in her mouth. This was exactly what she wanted. She let him fuck her in the mouth, hard and deep, almost too deep, almost enough to make her gag. Then he pulled back, all the way, slipping out of her mouth and leaving her reaching for him.
She stayed on her knees for a moment, dazed, enjoying looking up at him. “Please fuck me.”
Mitchell smiled down at her, cupping her face with his broad hand. Shit, that pushed some serious submissive buttons in her, and she closed her eyes at the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “Yeah, look at you. All right.”
He walked over to the open armoire and set the paddle down where he found it, then grabbed something off one of the shelves. As Hannah got a condom from the nightstand, Mitchell stretched out on the bed. She climbed onto the bed with him and tore open the wrapper, eager to get it on his dick. He watched her as she carefully unfurled the latex, sheathing his wet cock and moving to straddle his hips. She could not get him inside her fast enough.
“Jesus.” His curse sounded like a prayer as she sank all the way down onto him in one hard slide. He exhaled, the muscles of his abdomen clenching as he controlled himself. In this position, his entire physique stretched out beneath her, those exquisitely sculpted muscles twitching with the feeling of her pussy wrapped around his cock. She shifted her gaze to his eyes, and he was staring right back. After his paddling, his dominance, his single-minded approach to this visit, this raw vulnerability on his face shook her more than the physical sense of having him inside her. She’d nearly forgotten that beneath the dominance, the confident sexiness, the playful intensity, this was Mitchell. Here, though, with his hands on her hips and his eyes locked on hers, everything crashed back: months of flirtation, tiny details of conversation, all of that culminating in this moment of raw, honest nakedness.
Hannah looked away. She was not ready to deal with all of that right now. Right now, he was gorgeous, he was throbbing inside her, and she was going to ride him until he went to pieces beneath her. She shifted her hips and began to rock against him.
In this position, her clit rubbed against his cock with each stroke. It might not be enough, though. As if reading her mind, he reached over to the nightstand and held up a small vibrator, which must have been what he’d grabbed earlier. His smug expression made her smile. That vulnerability from earlier was gone, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But then he slid the vibrator into place between them and switched it on, and all thought vanished for a breathless second.
“Pretty proud of yourself, there?” She shifted her hips to press her clit harder against the vibe. Damn, that was nice.
He nodded. “You could say that.”
She could come like this, no problem. With that thought at the back of her mind, she focused on him, noting his every reaction and response.
Watching a man in the throes of passion was one of her favorite parts of bringing a partner to bed. Mitchell’s guard slowly came down again. His eyes were glazed, lips slightly parted, and he opened and closed his mouth a fraction of an inch with every breath. He held on to her hips as she moved, and even though he had been so dominant before, now she was in control. Control was a heady, beautiful feeling. God, she wanted to know him, really know him. What lit him up? Running her hands over his chest, she found his nipples, small and dusky rose colored, neither fully brown nor fully pink, and rubbed across them with her thumbs.
He huffed out a breath and smiled. “Good girl.”
Well, fuck, that wasn’t something she expected to turn her on like it did. She might have control right now, but just like that, he reminded her that he was letting her have it. And damn, that was sexy.
His cock twitched inside her each time she brushed those sensitive buds, even more so when she pinched. Her orgasm threatened at the edge of her senses, but she held it off, teasing them both. Lightly pinching his nipples, she rode his cock as his heavy breathing turned to soft groans. The vibration transferred through both of them, surely, since it was lined up directly with his cock as well as her clit. She ground down against it, starting to quiver.
Unguarded, vulnerable, she had another moment of clarity about how fucking beautiful this man was. Damn, getting emotional during sex was not her style at all, but this was Mitchell, with his perfect body and mysterious demeanor, whom she knew and yet didn’t know at all, Mitchell who was twitching and gasping and starting to shake apart beneath her. She should focus just on the sex, but no, she couldn’t stop thinking of him, this man she had come to care for, and those feelings tangled with her arousal and wove the two together.
Tightening all her muscles around his cock, she held her position flush against his hips, squeezing him as hard as she could, pressing against the vibrator and holding his dick all the way inside her.
“Fuck!” He slammed his head back against the pillow. “You’re just… I’m gonna…” He began to thrust up into her, letting loose like he hadn’t before. She held on to his chest and rode out the thrusts as he came closer and closer to the edge, loving his inarticulate words, his frenzied thrusts, the expression of complete surrender on his face. She was so close, too, and pinched his nipples hard one final time.
Mitchell was completely silent as he came. He arched up, tucking his head, his eyes squeezing shut as his face contorted in a rictus of pleasure-pain. Just like that, she yielded as well, her own climax a surprise in its intensity and suddenness. She lost her balance, tumbling forward onto his chest and clinging there as she clenched around him. The vibrator was merciless, powerful and unmoving and directly lined up between her folds, and she kept clenching over and over again even as her body lost all strength.
When Mitchell relaxed, his muscles going limp below her, Hannah carefully untangled their bodies and slid off him, fumbling the vibrator off as she did so. Mitchell reached over to her nightstand for tissues. Hannah lay there, overwhelmed and sated and still breathless. Fuck, this was supposed to be a lighthearted experiment. But there was no way she was letting this be a onetime thing. She already wanted to do this again.
After going to the bathroom to clean up, Hannah returned to her bed, where Mitchell now sat in his boxers, leaning against her headboard and looking contemplative. Cuddling wasn’t normally her style, but that pull was too strong to resist. She joined him on the bed, scooting up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.
Silence stretched on for a minute before she had to break it. “Well, it wasn’t casual.”
Mitchell started to chuckle. “I said it wouldn’t be casual.” He wrapped an arm around her back, stroking her skin. “Your bum feel okay?”
Hannah grinned. “Did you just call it my bum?”
“Well it is your bum, isn’t it?” His brow furrowed.
“It’s such a cute word. I don’t think I’ve called it my bum in years. Like, maybe middle school?”
“I like that word!”
“Don’t get defensive.” Laughing, Hannah set her head back on his shoulder again. “It’s adorable. You’re adorable.”
“I don’t know if ‘adorable’ is the kind of compliment somebody wants after sex.” Mitchell sounded grumpy, which was even cuter, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“My bum is okay, yes, thanks. You’re good at paddling. I’m gonna need some of that again sometime.”
“Yeah?”
She wrapped an arm across his waist and squeezed him. “If you’re up for that.”
He paused, and her stomach dropped. Had she gone too far? Was this a one-and-done thing? Normally she was the one who was ready to dismiss a guy after sex, but now she’d been interested in two, back to back. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting… but that didn’t matter, right? As long as they were both game, they could do this again, as many times as they wanted.
“I…would like that.” He squeezed her hand, smiling. Compared to the mind-blowing sex they’d just shared, that look shouldn’t feel as intimate as it did. She’d always wanted to be looked at like that. Something tightened in her throat, some emotion she hadn’t felt in a long time and didn’t really want to feel now, when she was still riding the euphoria of her orgasms.
“I really have to get going, though.” He grimaced. “Work is early. And never-ending.”
“Don’t I know it.”
She unwound herself from him and slid off the bed. No need to dwell on how nice it would be if he could stay. Those thoughts weren’t going to help anyone. This was fun, and they could do it again, and that was all she needed.
…
Ben wasn’t waiting up for Mitchell, even though he was up later than usual, dozing on and off while sprawled out on the sofa rather than going to bed. He was merely enjoying the weather: the late September heat had finally yielded to fall crispness, and he got the cross breezes better here in the living room than in his bedroom. That was the only reason he was lying here, half listening for Mitchell to come home. He wasn’t at all nosy. Curious, sure, but…not nosy. Not at all.
Mitchell’s key in the lock jolted Ben out of another light doze, and he sat up, blinking away his grogginess. Ben had seen Mitchell every day for years, and the guy definitely had a look when he’d just gotten laid—a look he was wearing tonight. Well, thank god. He sure needed it.
“You still up?” Mitchell tossed his keys into the key bowl and went straight to the fridge.
“Yeah, I was just brainstorming spring flavor profiles.” Ben gestured to the notebook still open on the coffee table, which he legitimately had been working on before dozing off.
Mitchell handed Ben a beer from the fridge and sat down in the armchair with his own. “Hannah wants to get together in a few days to talk specifics for the Fall Festival. Figure out a game for the booth.”
“Sure, sounds good. Did you spend a lot of time going over your plans together?”
Mitchell looked at him with a neutral expression. He had to know what Ben was asking, especially as Ben couldn’t stop from grinning. Finally, Mitchell sighed and relaxed in the chair. “No. We didn’t talk about plans at all.”
“Nice.” Ben exhaled.
“This isn’t weird for you?”
“What?”
“Us both having fucked the same woman, like two days apart.” Mitchell shifted, crossing one ankle over the other knee. “That doesn’t weird you out? I’ve never done that before.”
With everything Mitchell knew about Ben, almost twenty years of friendship, seven years of close partnership, Mitchell should know better. “Asking me something like that, it’s like you don’t even know me, dude.”
Mitchell shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve never dated the same person.”
Well, that was an understatement. He hadn’t seen Mitchell date anyone at all in a long time, actually. First, they were both consumed with the pressure of opening the restaurant, but even when business settled into the hectic-but-manageable pace of their lives, Mitchell stopped giving excuses. He just didn’t date anymore, and Ben didn’t ask. This evening with Hannah was a nice, unexpected change.
As for him, though?
“I don’t care if we date the same person. Romance isn’t for me. You know that. I can’t imagine coming home to the same person every day, day after day. Not anymore.”
Mitchell tilted his head to the side. “Except for me?”
Ben opened his mouth, then paused, the beer raised halfway to his lips. Mitchell did have a point. He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Except for you.” Funny how Mitchell was the exception to so many things. After his marriage to Viv ended, he swore that he would never live with another partner, never settle down, never let those walls down with another person. Mitchell was Mitchell, though, friends since high school, drifting apart and then reconnecting just when he needed it, right when his whole life was falling apart. No matter how deep his feelings for Mitchell might be, he had to keep them firmly labeled as friendship. Friendship wouldn’t put everything at risk, not when they’d worked so hard for their business and each other. “You’re different, though.”
“I’m not like other girls.” Mitchell grinned, teasing.
“You are really easy.” Ben tapped the lip of the beer bottle against his cheek. Banter was much easier than getting deep into emotional shit. “I can get you into bed without even trying.”
Mitchell put a hand over his heart in mock affront. “Benjamin, are you calling me a whore?”
“The dirtiest slut I ever took to bed.” Ben grinned. “Does it bother you that we fucked the same woman?”
Mitchell pursed his lips, looking off into the distance, absentmindedly rubbing the side of his beer bottle with this thumb. “I’m pretty sure it’s hot.”
Ben had to laugh. “Oh? You’re pretty sure?”
“I’m pretty sure. I might have to watch you both to be totally positive.” Mitchell gave him a wicked grin.
Fuck, that was a sexy thought. Ben hadn’t really considered it, and Mitchell’s teasing caught him off guard. He had to focus intently on the muscles necessary to drink from his beer bottle and then swallow without choking. Mitchell had that laser stare locked onto him, the one that felt like being examined under a microscope, and just the thought of getting that stare while he was fucking Hannah was enough to make his cock twitch and take interest.
But the bigger idea, that was also intriguing. Him, and Mitchell, and Hannah. Together. “You know, that could work.”
“What could work?”
“The three of us. All seeing each other.”
Mitchell rolled his eyes and looked up to the ceiling of their condo. “This is not Letters to Penthouse, Ben.”
“Jesus, nobody reads Penthouse, Mitchell. You still getting your porn by mail?” He shifted on the couch, sitting up straighter. “But really. We could be a group thing. Like a love triangle, but nobody’s heart gets broken.”
Mitchell grabbed his beer again. “Nobody does that.”
“Sure, people do that.” Now that he was thinking about it, this was a really good setup. “You and me, we’ve got a good thing going. We get along, we make good business partners, we’re great in bed. And we both like Hannah, right?” At Mitchell’s tentative nod, he continued. “And neither of us wants a romantic relationship. So, let’s just…bring her in.” Not to mention, if they both were sleeping with Hannah, maybe everything would feel less serious between him and Mitchell. Maybe he could distract himself from wanting something different than the stable, safe situation they currently had.
Mitchell pursed his lips, picking at the label on his beer with his thumb. “What makes you think I don’t want a romantic relationship?”
Was he serious? “You haven’t dated anybody in years. You haven’t been seeing anybody in years.”
Mitchell blinked at him, looking hurt for some reason that it took Ben a heartbeat to understand.
Oh. Mitchell hadn’t been seeing anybody in years…except for him.
That wasn’t the same thing, though, right? They weren’t boyfriends. They never talked about their feelings or confessed their love. That distinction was mutual, right? He could run through all their encounters in his mind if he wanted to, all the way back to when he’d first approached Mitchell before that restaurant inspection and they’d fucked his anxiety away. Sure, there had been some ambiguity with the nature of their relationship at first, but Ben had made his limits clear. And Mitchell, being Mitchell, had never pushed.
Of course Ben would have assumed Mitchell wanted the same things. If Mitchell didn’t agree, why didn’t he say something?
Ben cleared his throat. He wasn’t prepared to deal with feelings like this now. “I think we should both see her again. Maybe together.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down, but it felt forced. He was trying too hard to lighten the mood.
Mitchell smiled, though. “You’re just all erection all the time, aren’t you?”
Ben raised his beer. “Giving bisexuals everywhere a bad name. That’s me.”
Mitchell put his feet up on the coffee table. “You know, your sluttiness makes it really hard for people to trust us.”
A hot spike of anger rose in Ben, a swell of emotion like a pot of water boiling over.
“Hey.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat again. “I’ve never cheated on a partner. I’ve always been totally up front with everybody I’ve been with.” He’d gotten louder, and he tried to quiet his tone even while his heart raced. “I don’t lie, and I don’t cheat.”
Mitchell visibly softened. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He spoke more quietly. “I forgot that was a thing with you and Viv.”
A thing? That was putting it mildly. He remembered Viv standing in the kitchen, her arms folded, looking up at him with hurt and indignation in her eyes. What do you mean, you’re bisexual? Now I have to worry about you fucking guys, too? Why didn’t you figure this out before? The implication was that she could have gotten out of it if she’d known beforehand. Standing there, looking into the eyes of a woman he’d sworn to spend his life with, knowing he was breaking her heart not because of anything he did, but because of who he was? That was an experience he wasn’t keen to repeat.
“You know she had trust issues,” he said, which was enough. He’d spilled it all out to Mitchell years ago, when Mitchell had first found him in the well of his postdivorce depression. He didn’t need to rehash it again. It had all been for the best, certainly. Viv had ended things over the fact that he was bisexual. He couldn’t be with someone who didn’t accept him for who he was, no matter what kind of history they shared.
“You’re not a cheater. None of us are.” Mitchell clinked his bottle with Ben’s like some kind of peace offering.
They drank in silence for a few minutes, with Mitchell making the contemplative faces he always made when he was chewing over a deep thought. For a man who was so reserved to so many people, every time he was with Ben, he didn’t hide his emotions. It was really nice, actually. And Ben could be himself with Mitchell, too. Mitchell didn’t ask for anything other than Ben was willing to give.
He felt the small press of guilt inside him. Mitchell didn’t ask for anything.
After a minute, Mitchell finally spit out his question, looking a little sheepish. “You really think there’s room for something between the three of us?”
Ben took a sip of his beer. “I don’t see why not.” He’d definitely heard of people having arrangements like this, even if he didn’t know any of them personally. “Let’s feel it out when we talk with her about the festival.” He glanced over at Mitchell. “You want to give me some of the details about your night with her? I could use something to jerk off to.”
Mitchell laughed, getting up off the couch. “You’re on your own there. I don’t kiss and tell.” He crossed past Ben, headed to his room.
Ben called after him, “So don’t tell about the kissing! Will you fuck and tell instead?”
Mitchell was still laughing as he shut the door to his room behind him.
Ben lay back on the couch, staring up at the popcorn ceiling in the silence of midnight. He had a lot to do this week. There were special seasonal advertisements to sign off on, batches of fall beer to check for quality, temporary workers to bring in to decant the latest brews. Instead of planning all that, though, his mind gravitated back to thoughts of Hannah…and Mitchell…and Hannah and Mitchell together. It was probably just horniness; threesome fantasies were practically required for sexual beings, and he was within reach of making that fantasy a reality.
But other aspects of the idea were appealing, too. Mitchell could use an excuse to do something other than manage the restaurant and work out. The guy had literally no social life aside from hanging out with Ben. Seeing Hannah would be good for him. And Ben was certainly intrigued by her, the way she flirted shamelessly and approached sex as enthusiastically as he did, the confidence and poise she exuded. She was fun, and she challenged him. He was always up for a challenge.
Ben closed his eyes. Sometimes, in moments like this, with the apartment silent except for the hum of the refrigerator, he felt completely alone. Mitchell was just a room away, but sometimes he felt alone with Mitchell, too. The problem with shutting down any intimacy other than friendship was that it grayed out the nuances of emotion, simplifying them down into one nebulous haze. He’d been flippant for so long. Even if he wanted to open up, he wasn’t sure how.
Fortunately, no one was asking anything else of him. All they were talking about was friendship and sex, and those were two arenas he could handle.
After getting reluctantly to his feet, Ben set his empty beer bottle in the recycling bucket and headed to bed.