His and Hers and Hers (3 page)

Something sparked in her pretty brown eyes. “Both of us, huh?”

“You bet.”

“And what else? Would we just be standing around in those little panties?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He twirled his finger in a lock of her hair. “There might be a little girl-on-girl play…maybe some kissing…”

“Umm…” She gave him a wet, openmouthed kiss. “Now who’s being bad?”

Jordan was well aware that his talk was revving her motor, just as it was his. Kyla made no secret of her bicurious side. She told him she’d kissed a girl in high school on a dare. In college she’d done a bit more than that when she and her boyfriend at the time had gotten together with another couple, played strip poker, and had too much to drink. Kyla and the other girl had played around a little to get the guys hot.

“I liked it,” his ever-honest Kyla had told him. “In fact, I liked her better than I liked my guy. Oh, he loved watching the two of us, and fucked my brains out afterward. But he got all huffy the next day.
Oh, what’re you, a lez?
Asshole. I dumped his ass then and there. He had a little dick anyway.”

The asshole’s loss was Jordan’s gain. He’d fallen for Kyla the first time he saw her at Jonesy’s Bar and Grill. They’d each been out for a few drinks with friends and there’d been an instant connection between them.

They’d been inseparable practically from their first date and had been living together four years. They had a crazy-good sex life, and they’d always been monogamous. Sure, in their time together there’d been plenty of sexy talk and what-if scenarios. But their fantasies had never included someone they knew. A friend. It was hot, now, to cross that line and imagine being with Kyla
and
Cassie. But Jordan knew it was dangerous too.

So why had they crossed the threshold? Was Kyla getting bored with their sex life? Was
he?

To dodge that uncomfortable possibility, he tried making a joke. “Hey, what red-blooded straight man doesn’t fantasize about having two gorgeous chicks at his disposal?”

“Yeah.” She settled her chin on his chest. “What’s that about, anyway?”

“It makes him the center of attention. Plus, we’re all a bunch of horny bastards. We can’t help ourselves.”

“For sure.” She kissed his chest, then made a loud raspberry against his skin before rolling off him. “Too bad we’re such an unadventurous, settled old couple, huh?”

“Not completely settled,” he murmured. He winced instinctively, squeezing his eyes shut, wanting to kick himself. He knew better than to go there.

Kyla went still momentarily as the dart hit its mark. If she’d been in a different mood, she’d have torn him a new one, but this time she simply let it slide.

To Jordan’s mind, truly being “settled” meant being married. And Kyla didn’t do marriage. In fact, one of the conditions she’d made before moving in with him was that he would never ask her to marry him. The subject was forever off the table.

And at the time, that was fine with him. Hell, he’d been twenty-three, way too young to even be thinking of settling down. Plus, he would have promised anything, his left nut if necessary, to get Kyla to be with him.

But now he could see thirty on the horizon. And the things he’d scoffed at a few years ago didn’t seem so lame now. Marriage. Kids. A family. But Kyla’s shitty childhood had soured her on the whole marriage deal. How could he run the old bait-and-switch game on her? He’d made a promise.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. And it didn’t mean he wasn’t above the occasional remark. Hell, he was only human.

She slipped out of bed without a word.

“Where you going?” His nerves jangled with alarm. Had he pissed her off?

“Chill,” she answered, her voice mild. “Just getting my phone.” She grabbed it from on top of the dresser.

She scooted back beside him and he slipped his arm around her waist. He should have known his Kyla was not the passive-aggressive type. She did not believe in the silent treatment. No, if she was pissed, you’d know it—right before she tore off your head or another body part.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she tapped the phone keys.

Her eyes were glued to the tiny screen. “Texting Cassie.”

“Oh, come on. She’s probably asleep.”

“You wish.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. But it was true. He did hope Cassie was sleeping. He hated to think of her doing the deed with that superficial creep.
Sully
. “Then you’ll be interrupting something.”

Her lips curled in a self-satisfied little smirk. “I sure hope so.”

Chapter Three

Cassie lay sprawled on her sofa with a drink in her hand. A screwdriver made with orange juice from the fridge and vodka from her freezer.

Still dressed in her borrowed slutwear, she squirmed in humiliation thinking of the disastrous night. The eighteen dollars she’d been stuck for didn’t matter. Sully certainly didn’t matter. But it stung like hell to be dumped by some loser she didn’t even care about on a date she never wanted in the first place.

Why had she gone through with it? Because of Jordan and Ky, of course. They’d encouraged her. Hell, they were more excited by the whole thing than she was. Well, Kyla was, anyway. And Jordan would do anything to make Kyla happy. He’d seemed fine with it, until tonight. Had there been snark in his voice when he mentioned Sully, or had she just imagined it?

Wishful thinking, Cassie, that’s all.

The truth was she’d had far more fun composing the online profile and planning the date with her friends than imagining the date itself. Because she’d been with Kyla and Jordan. Hanging with them, talking with them, getting to know them better…

Falling in love with them?

But you don’t do love, right?
Hadn’t her childhood taught her that? Every time she started to care, every time she reached out to someone, she was snatched away and put into a different foster home. Finally she’d made the decision it was safer not to care too much about anyone or anything. She couldn’t be hurt that way.

But once she’d grown that hard shell, it had become part of her, and she found she couldn’t shed it. What had been a shield protecting her from hurt turned into a wall keeping everyone away. She wasn’t even sure she
could
love anyone anymore.

 “Why are we here, then?”
She remembered the stricken look on her girlfriend Syd’s face, her bewilderment when Cassie had confessed that fear to her long ago.
“Why am I here? If you can’t love me, why are we even together?”

Why had she agreed to meet Sully in the first place? Had she really believed that lightning would strike? That they’d hit it off? That maybe he’d be enough to help her move past her feelings for her two closest friends?

Yeah, right. Fat chance of that.

She’d made peace with her bisexuality years ago. Some people argued that bisexuals were simply those afraid to admit they were gay, but it wasn’t that at all. She loved women, yes—their softness, their curves, their tenderness. She knew how to make love to a woman because she knew what made her feel good. But she loved being with men too. She enjoyed the feel of a man’s hard body pressed to hers, the solid wall of his chest, the strength of his arms.

But it wasn’t just about sex. She could be attracted to a person of either sex—attracted to someone’s personality, intellect, or sense of humor. Immediately she pictured Jordan’s smile. She thought of Kyla’s no-bullshit attitude.

Cass, you’re totally screwed.

Kyla and Jordan were a committed couple. Anyone with eyes could tell how much they loved each other. They weren’t the type to screw around on each other. Cassie wouldn’t feel the same about them if they were. That was her conundrum.

The very thing that made her so crazy for them was what made it impossible for her to have a relationship with them. There was no room for her.

Cassie knew she could go on the prowl and find someone to get freaky with. She’d done that before, had random hookups with men and women. Hell, she could even find a couple to play with and share their bed for a few hours of fun.

But those brief encounters had ultimately left her dissatisfied. She wanted to be more than a random piece of ass, a number in someone’s black book to call when they were in the mood for a nasty good time.

But doing the relationship thing with Sydney hadn’t worked out either. They’d been together almost a year before Syd threw in the towel.

She’d been celibate since then. Just how long had it been? Her stuff was probably shriveled like a raisin from lack of use.

Well, what’s the plan, Cass? Sit here getting drunk and feeling sorry for yourself?

Sure. Why not?

She swallowed the last of the drink and set the glass on the coffee table. She’d get up and put it in the sink later, when the room stopped twirling. Whoa. Maybe she shouldn’t have had three of those.

Cassie’s head sank back against the cushions as she closed her eyes. A bit later, maybe a few minutes or maybe longer—she wasn’t sure if she’d dozed—her cell phone rang.

She flopped her arm over the edge of the sofa and fumbled blindly for her purse. It was on the floor somewhere. At last she found it and stirred around in the contents until she grabbed the phone.

Cassie peeled open bleary eyes to check the Post-it-sized screen. Was it really eleven thirty? How long had she been sitting here drowning her sorrows?

A message appeared on the screen. Only one person would text her this time of night. Kyla, of course.

What’s up? Sully’s dick, I hope.

“Ha-ha,” Cassie muttered. Still, she couldn’t help but grin at Ky’s raunchy sense of humor. She could leave the text unanswered and let them think she was asleep. Or lead them to believe she and Sully were getting hot and heavy. She finally decided on a version of the truth—one she hoped would make her appear less pathetic than she felt.

Didnt work out. Off 2 bed now. TTY 2morrow.

* * * *

“Huh.” Kyla’s forehead wrinkled with confusion as she peered at Cassie’s return text.

“What’d she say?”

“I don’t know.” She handed him the phone. “See if you can make it out.”

Jordan peered at the screen and blinked. It read:
fofmy eptl piy/pg g3 brff mpe/yyu f3nppttpe/

“What’s this supposed to mean?”

“Maybe Sully’s so good in bed she’s texting in tongues,” Kyla said. “Or maybe he’s so good with his tongue she’s—”

“Not funny.” He scowled, shuddering at the picture Kyla’s words conjured in his brain. “What if something’s wrong?”

“What could be wrong? She probably just hit the wrong keys.”

Jordan wasn’t convinced. “That guy Sully. We never should have left her with him…” He pressed his lips tight, shook his head. “What if she’s in trouble?”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious. What if he drugged her, slipped her a roofie or something, and she needs our help?”

“You’ve been watching too much
Law & Order: SVU
, babe.”

“Call her, Ky. I’m not kidding.”

When Jordan used that tone of voice, Kyla knew not to mess with him. “Ookay…” She hit speed dial.

* * * *

The tinkle of her cell jerked Cassie from her drowse. She clapped the phone to her ear. “What? Hello.”

“Cass?” Kyla’s voice came through. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Her pickled brain couldn’t focus. God, she’d only had three—or four?—drinks.
Can’t even hold your liquor. What a loser.

“Cassie, talk to me.” Kyla’s tone was crisp and professional, the voice she likely used with hysterical ER patients. Calm but down to business. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She heard Jordan’s voice in the background. “Let me talk to her.”

“Huh? Nothing.” She tried sitting up, but the room tilted, and she slipped sideways, her head bumping the corner of the sofa’s wooden frame. “Ow.”

“Cassie, what’s going on?” This time Jordan spoke. He must have grabbed the phone from Kyla.

“Nothing! Ow.” The bump didn’t hurt much but gave her another reason to feel sorry for herself. She was a loser who’d always be alone. Jordan and Kyla would never know how she really felt about them. “Nothing’s going on.”
Nothing
. And that was how it would always be. Her life was fucked up.
She
was fucked up. “Absolutely fucking nothing, all right?”

She snapped the phone shut and set it on the coffee table. Then she picked it up and flung it across the room.

* * * *

Cassie was nearly sober and bitterly ashamed by the time her friends banged on her apartment door.

Unsurprised that they’d rushed over, she awkwardly stepped aside to let them enter. Eyes downcast, shoulders slumped, she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Kyla simply gaped at her, while Jordan shouldered past her, quickly scanning the room, an in-charge man ready to protect the women he cared about from any danger present. Cassie was used to the easygoing, laid-back Jordan. Seeing this side of him amazed her. Lust shot straight through her. She bit her lip and took a step back, unable to look Kyla in the face. “I’m sorry. I’m such an ass. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just had too much to drink and—”

Kyla’s eyebrows winged up. “You didn’t drive?”

Kyla had shared too many horror stories about what she’d witnessed firsthand in the ER. She had no sympathy whatsoever for anyone would drink and drive.

“No, no. I made the drinks here. I was just feeling sorry for myself…” What the hell? She’d already made a complete fool of herself. Might as well spill the whole story. “The whole date was a disaster. He dumped me for the barmaid and stuck me with paying for the drinks.”

“That miserable shit.”

“I knew he was a bastard.” Both of Cassie’s friends spoke at the same time. Kyla’s face was soft with sympathy while Jordan looked like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall.

“I feel awful. You came all the way here for nothing. I was just being a drama queen.”

“Hey.” Kyla moved close to Cassie, cupped the back of her head. “I’m so sorry Sully turned out to be an asshole, but don’t you dare apologize. We want to be here for you, Cass.”