Crossing the Lines (24 page)

And he didn’t seem angry at her neediness, even if he thought she only sought more frequent or more possessive sex. The day had ended up a hell of a lot better than it had started. She hadn’t fucked things up beyond repair.

Henry pulled out and lowered her legs to drape over the side of the couch.

Jay kissed her palms. The goofy grin on his face probably had a twin on hers.

“I believe it’s time to revisit your contract, Alice.” Henry-speak for “we need to talk.”

She froze. She’d given a breakup speech often enough to recognize one. Occasional muscle tremors still rolled through her thighs. Sated and hazy bliss dissolved into panic.

“Your needs are not being met by our arrangement. It’s no longer capable of providing what you require.”

How could he sound happy about something so terrifying? This was the thing she’d feared for months, the dread she’d labored beneath all day. She’d gotten emotionally wrapped up in this thing with her neighbors, pretended it was more than great sex.

“Would you agree that that is the case, Alice?”

Shit. She couldn’t lie to Henry. Not because of the contract but because he was her friend and he hated lies.

In truth, the current arrangement didn’t meet her needs. She needed something emotional he couldn’t make himself feel for her. Something he’d taught her to feel so she’d have better relationships going forward.

She’d graduated from the Henry school. Time to thank him and get the fuck out. “Yeah, it’s, um, not working for me.”

She rolled off the couch and onto her feet without waiting for permission. Her legs wobbled. The sex worked. The sex worked great. The rest was the confusing part, and that was her own damn fault for not paying attention to how entangled she’d gotten. No breakup blowjobs this time. She’d wrap it up fast and salvage some dignity.

“It’s been great, you’ve both been great, but, you know, people change, and move on.”

“What? Alice? But—” Jay looked like she’d kicked him in the nuts.

Oh fuck.

“Jay, patience, please. Alice, might we make a specific adjustment to accommodate your desires?” Henry spoke in slow, measured tones. Unaffected.

He didn’t feel anything. This conversation wasn’t a reason for him to panic but a business decision. Practicality. If the form didn’t fulfill the function, sometimes you threw out the design and started somewhere else.

“Something I have misjudged? Has something caused you to mistrust me? There’s something else you need from me, perhaps?”

“No, I, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He had more experience making those mental adjustments. “It’s just difficult.” Separating the friend from the sex partner had grown harder for her the longer the arrangement lasted. She wanted both halves as a lover. “More difficult than I thought it would be.”

She slipped into her pants and pulled her sweater over her head, forgoing the bra and underwear in her rush to cover herself. Naked vulnerability sucked when the games were over.

Henry sure as hell wasn’t smiling now, and one eyebrow seemed fixed in what-are-you-doing position. Shit. Still on his time. She should’ve asked before getting dressed.

But what did he want from her?

If she’d come over last night for sex, that wouldn’t have been part of their contract. Except it had to be, didn’t it? Sex-related things were contract-related things, and they needed to stay in contract hours. If she hadn’t been horny, if she’d needed a friend, she wouldn’t have hesitated to text Jay and see if they were awake.

“Tell me what’s difficult, Alice.”

Except…the night the heat went out. When they’d invited her into their bed and let her play without rules. When Henry had made it her choice.

An emergency. A special case. Her
friends
had worried she’d freeze. As if she could’ve expected to sleep next to Jay and Henry all night and not end up fucking them.

“Tell me why you’re pulling your clothes on as though you intend to leave us early tonight.” Henry refastened his pants, too, without even discarding the condom.

Good. Less distracting. Less of a reminder he’d just fucked her senseless.

But what he asked of her—no, demanded. He demanded she make herself vulnerable, admit her need for him. He could make that demand of her, and he didn’t have to offer her anything in return. Her heart pounded.

Why? Because she was a goddamned coward, that’s why. Because trying to remember how to be herself around men always led her back to him. To him, and Jay, and how they were so fucking in love with each other they made her believe in it. Made her want it. Made her think she might be falling in love with them both.

How could he show her that? Why would he do that to her? She’d been fine—not happy, okay, but fine before, and now wanting more made her ache every damn day. How the fuck had she let this happen?

“Pistachio.”

Jay choked, surprise blatant on his face.

Henry’s reaction cracked her heart in her chest, the flicker of hurt, the pain in his eyes before he controlled his expression. He backed away from her, three steps. “All right, Alice.”

Oh no
. Using her safeword had been a mistake. Raw terror had pulled it out of her. But she couldn’t force the word back in. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t more afraid of this feeling than she’d ever been of anything in her life.

Henry flogging her for hours wouldn’t hurt half as much as telling him she was maybe falling in love with him. His rationalization of her response would kill her. Flattering, he’d say. Proud of her for being able to say it, he’d say. He wasn’t in love with her but helping her understand herself, and she’d mistaken attention for love, he’d say.

But her fear was a betrayal. With one word, she’d told them she didn’t trust them to be gentle with her heart. She wanted to curl in a ball on the floor and sob. Dread descended. The numbness it brought mimicked relief.

“No, it’s not all right.” Anguish twisted Jay’s face. “This is definitely not all right. It’s totally wrong.”

“Jay.” Henry’s hard look said he’d best listen and obey
.
“Alice has every right to use her safeword. I know you wouldn’t wish to deny her that. Perhaps a break is in order. Some time and space for all of us.”

A break. Right. The pretty words amounted to a concession to calm Jay. The time and space would grow, and scheduling wouldn’t work out, and finally they’d abandon the idea altogether.

If she had exceptional luck, a year from now she’d be able to eat lunch with them as friends and not obsess about the tangled joy she’d found in Henry’s bed.

Maybe she should’ve lied. Told him their arrangement wasn’t hurting her.

Maybe not. Better to let it end before she made a bigger fool of herself.

“Sure. Some time and space to think about things.” Her sweater scratched her breasts. Her pants clung to her wet thighs and groin. No washcloth tonight. No snuggling and talking in Henry’s bed afterward. No possibility of waking up there. “That’s a nice thought.”

Henry nodded at her, his face resigned. As though he’d expected things wouldn’t work out, and he knew, as she did, that “some time” likely meant “never again.”

“Very well, Alice. If you’ll let us know when you feel ready to discuss—”

“No way.” Panicked anger overtook Jay’s voice. “No. If you don’t set a time for this talk now, you won’t ever do it, and you’ll both let everything fall apart. This is a stupid idea. You both, you’re so, argh!”

He waved his arms in nonsensical gestures, frustration and fear bleeding out of him. “Just stop this, please. Please?”

She couldn’t make him feel better about this.
She
wasn’t ready to feel better about this.

Henry tugged Jay closer, wrapping an arm around the younger man.

Naked want for the security of that embrace chewed a hole through her. Henry would comfort Jay however he needed tonight.

“I realize this is difficult for you, my boy, but I’m certain it’s not easy for Alice, either, and it’s not where I would have preferred the night end.”

“It’s
difficult
’cause you’re both walking on eggshells.” Jay pushed away Henry’s arm.

Jay. Rejecting comfort. From
Henry
. Not possible.

“If you’d stop scaring each other and me with this overly polite concern bullshit and just say what you want, things would be fine. We all want the same thing, or close enough.”

Even Henry had no reply to that.

“Fine. I’ll go first.” Jay blew out a breath. “I wanna keep fucking. A lot. Not just on special nights. Hell, I’d like it if Alice moved in and wanted to cuddle every night. She’s family, Henry. She’s yours as much as I am. We’re both all yours if you’ll have us.”

The suggestion stunned her.

She’d suspected Jay had grown attached to her, more than with any of the women he’d “dated” with Henry’s permission. But for him to be willing to share Henry’s attention with her on such an intimate, day-to-day level?

God yes, sign her up.

“You’ve discussed this behind my back?” Henry’s voice bit deep, a sharpened knife.

“What?” Jay shook his head. “No, of course not. I haven’t talked about it with Alice, but I think
you
should.”

“You’re impatient, Jay. Reckless. To dangle the possibility now…” Frustration soaked Henry’s tone, that and what sounded almost like hurt.

Because Jay didn’t have the authority to make those decisions? To offer her something Henry didn’t want to give?

“Henry’s right, Jay.” She chimed in more gently and spoke words it pained her to say, despite their truth. “We’ve had a super-emotional night. It’s not the time to make big decisions. We should step away and calm down and come back with clear heads.”

Jay groaned. “You two are so much alike. It needed to be now. When you’re calm, you won’t say what you need to say. You’ll talk yourselves out of it. Your brains get all chatty and your mouths clam up. If you’d let every thought fall out of your mouth the way I do, and not analyze it eight ways first, we could’ve had this conversation months ago.”

What? Henry had wanted to end things months ago?

Impossible. Counterfactual. Jay didn’t want to end things. If he’d wished for this talk sooner, he believed something better waited on the other side of it.

Maybe the things she wanted weren’t so far out of reach.

“Let’s set a date.” Eagerness curled in her stomach. “For the talk. That’s a start, right, Jay?”

His wary nod conceded the point.

Henry cleared his throat. “By the current contract, we have two weeks before this becomes an issue. Shall we say the Monday after next? That will give us ten days in which we may each consider what we want from this arrangement and most of a week to make any necessary adjustments afterward, whether that involves allowing for more nights or fewer, or more frequent overnight stays, or perhaps including more activities outside the bedroom.”

Overnight stays? Activities outside the bedroom? That sounded like
dating
.

More of her tension slid away. “Sure. Monday after next.”

“Excellent.” Warmth had returned to Henry’s voice. “We’ll say seven, as usual, to allow you time to gather your thoughts after work, Alice. I’ll make dinner.”

“Great. We’ll talk then.” She held her arms out to Jay, and he jumped at the invitation to hug her. Reassurance. His uncomplicated affection was something she needed, too.

“We’ll make it work,” he whispered in her ear as he squeezed her tighter.

“Jay. Oxygen. I need it to live.”

He let her go with a smile.

She turned to Henry. Press her body to his? When hers vibrated with the ache of the emptiness he’d left behind? No. She’d beg him to let her stay, and that would embarrass them both.

“So, I’ll see you Monday.” Casual. As if she wouldn’t fixate on him and Jay every waking moment in between while the imprint of his fingers faded on her thighs.

Henry frowned. Letting her leave probably clashed with his ideas about responsibility and his obligation to her as his contracted submissive.

“You’ll contact me sooner if you need anything—want anything—from me,” he corrected. “Even if you feel it’s not worth my time or attention.”