Page 80 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Imogen

I checked my phone for the fifth time in twenty minutes, but Hamish hadn’t sent any new messages.

I was doing my best not to worry, but he’d left suddenly for England, just a few days after our fun on the beach.

There was something about his explanation of the work matter he had to handle that felt off, more like the old Hamish than the man he’d become over the past weeks. Perhaps our little island adventure with Makai had spoiled me, allowing me to see Hamish as the free spirit I wished him to be instead of the disciplined workaholic he most often was.

What if his change was only temporary?

I wished everything felt more secure, but it was all so new. My job, Hamish’s newfound sense of adventure, even whatever was going on with Makai. Everything was thrilling, but nothing was defined. And despite the fact that Hamish had given me explicit permission to sleep with Makai while he was gone, I didn’t know if that was what Makai would want.

The three of us had fallen into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm, but Makai and I had never been truly alone together, and I wasn’t even sure we got along.

I shook my head, forcing myself to refocus on work. I had a wedding to coordinate in two days, and another the following weekend. No time for moping about like a lovesick teenager. For the first time in my adult life, I had a purpose that had nothing to do with my relationship with Hamish. And I bloody well loved it.

“Imogen! There you are.”

I turned to see my bosses Marco and Juniper Torres, striding across the lobby with their shared boyfriend, Tristan. As I watched them, knowing they were a committed polycule, I tried not to let my mind travel back to Makai and Hamish, but the parallels were difficult to ignore. Juniper and Marco were both American, and Tristan was British. How had they made it work when they’d started out on different continents?

I ached to ask them, but wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate. Besides, the three of them were in a far different income bracket than me, and I had a feeling the answer might include luxuries we couldn’t afford. Sure, Hamish and I were well off, and Makai had his own business, but none of us were capable of buying a private jet to fly around the world and make sure we got to spend time with each other.

My employers looked like they’d just stepped off the pages of a luxury travel magazine focused on bohemian fashion; Marco in casual linen, Juniper in a flowing sundress and funky jewelry. Tristan contrasted with them, somehow making even resort wear look crisp and formal.

“I was just checking the Anderson wedding setup,”

I said, offering my most professional smile.

“It’s all going well. The florist delivered early, and I wanted to make sure everything was properly refrigerated.”

“Always on top of things.”

Marco’s dimples deepened when he smiled.

“That’s what we love about you.”

“Speaking of which, we were hoping to catch you for a chat.”

Juniper hooked her arm through her husband’s.

“Got a minute?”

“Of course.”

I followed them to a quiet corner of the lobby where plush chairs surrounded a low table. Whatever this was about, it felt more significant than a casual check-in, and nerves settled in my stomach.

“We’ve been so impressed with your work here,”

Marco began, leaning forward in his chair.

“The way you’ve transformed our event planning department is nothing short of miraculous.”

Juniper nodded enthusiastically.

“The Benson wedding? Pure magic. And the way you handled that last-minute crisis with the Liu anniversary party? I would have lost my shit completely.”

“What we’re trying to say,”

Tristan cut in.

“is that we’d like to discuss your future with the Bindery Group.”

My stomach dropped as they brought up the looming end of my contract. I had less than five weeks left. Then what? Back to Dorset, to the horses and the charity boards and polite dinner parties? The thought filled me with a peculiar dread.

We’d have to leave Makai behind.

“My future?”

I forced my voice to remain steady as I wondered if the news was good or bad.

Marco’s eyes lit up.

“Imogen, we’d like to offer you a permanent position as our Director of Events for the Northwest Region. It wouldn’t be just for the Cannery, but for five Pacific Northwest properties.”

“The Cannery could be your home base, if you’d like,”

Juniper added.

“We want to turn this particular location into a premier event venue. But you’d have someone under you to manage some of the day-to-day, so that you could bring your big ideas to the table. Like the altar on the cliff? It’s stunning.”

“You have a remarkable eye for detail and an instinct for what works,”

Tristan added.

“We need someone with your talents to help turn our hotels into wedding destinations.”

Pride swelled in my chest.

“That’s... incredibly flattering. I don’t even know what to say. You truly like my work that much?”

“Of course, dear. You’ve been wonderful,”

Tristan said, smiling. Of all of them, I’d known Tristan the longest. His cousin Gemma was my best friend, and though we’d never been very close, his opinion meant the world to me. Was this what success felt like? If so, I wanted more of it.

For the first time in a long time, a future played out in front of me that wasn’t just about pleasing Hamish and living our quiet country life.

Hamish. My heart dropped.

“It would mean relocating permanently. Our home in Dorset—”

“We do understand that it’s a lot to consider. We don’t expect an answer right away,”

Marco said.

“And should you decide you need to move back to England, we’ll be happy to give you our glowing recommendation. I’m sure you could find work anywhere.”

“But the Cannery is here for you if you want it,”

Juniper said.

“We can discuss your compensation when you are ready, but I can assure you that our offer will be quite generous.”

Pride swelled in my chest, and my mind raced, possibilities and worries battling with each other.

“I’d need to discuss this with Hamish. It’s a significant change. He may not want to leave his family home in Dorset.”

“Of course,”

Marco nodded.

“We expected that. No rush. We’d love to know before your contract ends in August, but there’s plenty of time for you to decide.”

“We just wanted to put it on your radar,”

Juniper added.

“You belong here, Imogen. Anyone can see that.”

I belonged here. The words echoed in my head as I thanked them, promised to think it over, and excused myself. Did I belong here? On this island, in this job, with Makai and Hamish at my side?

I smiled. At least I knew my bosses wouldn’t judge me for being in a throuple, as they were in one themselves. The thought of a life here sent a thrill through me—a future so different from anything I’d imagined, yet suddenly, tantalizingly possible.

But what would Hamish say? And what about our house in Dorset?

The job would solve one problem, but it would create a whole host of others.

And Makai—would he even care if we stayed? I needed to think, needed air. I headed for the nearest exit, my mind spinning with possibilities I’d never dared consider before.

The air outside the Cannery felt thick as I wandered along the waterfront path, my mind racing with thoughts of what Marco and the others had proposed. Could I convince my husband to stay? Hamish was different here—lighter, freer, like watching a tightly wound clock spring released from tension.

The man who’d anxiously checked weather reports three times before venturing outdoors back home now ran fearlessly into the sea, laughed more in a day than he had in months back in Dorset, and discovered parts of himself he’d been denying his entire life. What would he think about making this temporary adventure permanent?

I pulled my phone out again, tempted to call him, then realizing how late it was back home.

I rounded the corner of the building and stopped dead in my tracks. Parked in the far corner of the lot where it had been the first time I’d met him, was Makai’s ridiculous surf shack trailer The same eyesore that had infuriated me that first day when he’d blocked my wedding photo location made joy rise in my heart today.

Was he waiting for me? I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

Drawing myself up with mock indignation, I crossed the lot toward the battered truck and its attached trailer. Makai sat on the trailer’s step, rubbing wax onto a surfboard. He looked up as my shadow fell across him, and the smile that spread across his face made my heart skip a beat.

“You’re blocking my view again,”

I said, adopting the haughty tone I’d used when we first met.

“This is a five-star resort, not a surf bum parking lot.”

“Wedding Lady.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Funny how you keep finding me.”

“Funny how you keep parking where you know I’ll come talk to you. Did you have a lesson?”

“No.”

Makai stood and set the surfboard aside with no other explanation for his presence.

Had he come just to see me?

He held open the door.

“Want to see inside? I just cleaned it up. There’s air conditioning.”

“How very civilized of you.”

I followed him inside, surprised as always by how cleverly the small space was organized—surfboards and other gear mounted in two rows at one end, a tool bench of some sort, and a narrow but comfortable-looking futon tucked in the back. It smelled like him—like saltwater and cedar.

“Hamish sent a text earlier,”

Makai said, closing the door behind us.

“Said his meetings went well and asked about you. He didn’t want to call you and interrupt your work.”

“Oh?”

I tried to sound casual.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I hadn’t seen you.”

He stepped closer, his body radiating heat in the small space.

“That I missed both of you.”

“I miss him too.”

I swallowed hard.

“And I’ve missed you.”

Makai’s eyes darkened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He closed the distance between us in one step, his mouth finding mine with bruising intensity. I gasped against his lips, my hands immediately grabbing his shoulders for support as he backed me against the wall of the trailer. This was different from how he usually kissed me—there was an urgency, a hunger that hadn’t been there before.

“Been thinking about you all day,”

he murmured against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.

“Wondering if you’d come find me.”

I arched into him, my body responding instantly to his touch.

“Hamish said—he told me I should see you while he’s gone.”

“So you’re following his orders?”

Makai pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his hands already working at the buttons of my blouse.

“What do you want, Imogen?”

“You,”

I gasped as his fingers brushed against my breast.

“I want to be here with you. I was so afraid you wouldn’t want to spend time with an annoying Karen type.”

He laughed as he shoved me against the wall.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to spend time with you? I’m obsessed with you. I’m desperate for you every minute of every day.”

His hands were everywhere—shoving my blouse off my shoulders, yanking my skirt up around my waist, tearing my panties down my legs. I fumbled with his belt, eager to feel him, to have him inside me.

“But do we really get along? Without Hamish?”

I was trying to stay on task, really I was.

“Of course we do. Fuck, you’re already wet,”

he groaned, his fingers sliding between my folds, finding me slick and ready.

“So fucking perfect.”

I kicked off my underwear and wrapped one leg around his waist, opening myself to him. Makai unfastened his jeans just enough to free his cock, then lifted me completely off the ground, my back pressed against the wall, my legs wrapped around his hips. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside me, filling me completely.

“You’re worried we have nothing in common? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He stilled, and I squirmed against him.

“Tell me what we have in common, Imogen.”

My brain wasn’t functioning properly.

“Um. We like San Juan Island?”

“Good girl,”

he murmured, thrusting a few times. “And?”

“Well, I’d like to learn to surf,”

I whimpered, desperate for friction.

“And?”

“You’re funny?”

“You’re funny, too. And brilliant. And challenging. What else?”

He punctuated each compliment with a rough thrust, completely frying my brain.

How could he talk so calmly with his cock inside me.

“Fuck, I don’t know. We both really like to fuck?”

He laughed.

“Not what I was going for, my gorgeous girl, but it’ll do.”

With that, he gripped my ass and slammed into me, again and again, the trailer shaking beneath us with each rough thrust.

“God, yes,”

I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders through his t-shirt.

“Harder, please.”

He obliged, setting a brutal pace that had the entire trailer rocking on its wheels. Each thrust drove me higher, the slight roughness exactly what I needed after days of missing both my men.

“I want to send Hamish a video,”

I confessed, the words tumbling out before I could reconsider.

“Want him to see us together.”

Makai’s rhythm faltered for just a moment, his eyes meeting mine with fresh heat.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

He lowered me to my feet, leaving me bereft and empty.

“On the workbench. Now.”

He grabbed his phone while I positioned myself on the fold-down table, lying back with my legs spread wide. Makai yanked my skirt higher, baring me completely to his gaze and his camera.

“I’ll keep your face out of it,”

he promised, positioning the phone.

“To be safe.”

Then he was inside me again, his thick length stretching me perfectly as he began to film. I watched his face, the concentration there as he captured the sight of his cock disappearing into my pussy, the wet sounds of our joining loud in the small space.

“Mm, your tits look so sexy, bouncing as you take my cock.”

He thrust into me with a hard snap of his hips, and I whimpered, arching my back for the camera.

“Say hello to your husband.”

“Hello, husband,”

I whispered.

“Thank your husband.”

My cheeks heated.

“Thank you for letting him fuck me while you’re away.”

Makai laughed, then angled the camera to show his fingers squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples until I cried out.

“Touch your clit,”

he directed, his voice rough.

“Show him how you get yourself off while I fuck you.”

I slid my hand between us, finding my swollen clit and circling it with a happy moan as he thrust roughly into me, filming every moment. The combination of sensations pushed me toward the edge faster than I expected.

“I’m close,”

I warned, my body tightening around him.

“I’m going to come.”

“Let him hear you,”

Makai urged, angling the phone to capture my body without showing my face.

“Let him hear how good I make his wife feel.”

I shattered with a cry of both their names, my pussy clenching rhythmically around Makai’s cock as waves of pleasure crashed through me. He paused for a moment as he fiddled with something on the phone, ending the video, maybe. With a satisfied grin, Makai set the phone aside and leaned forward, thrusting harder, bracing his hands on the workbench beside me, chasing his release, as his movements became wild and erratic.

“Fuck, Imogen,”

he groaned, and I felt the hot pulse of him coming inside me, filling me with his release just as my own orgasm began to subside.

He collapsed forward, his forehead pressed against my collarbone as we both fought to catch our breath. After a moment, he raised his head and kissed me—soft, sweet, so different from the frantic coupling of moments before.

“Sleep in my bed tonight,”

he murmured against my lips.

“Don’t go back to that empty cottage. I want you snuggled by my side.”

I nodded, unable to form words, my body still humming with satisfaction. For tonight at least, I wouldn’t have to be alone.

“The whole time he’s gone?”

“Yeah,”

he murmured, nuzzling at my throat.

“If you do, maybe I’ll even park in the lower lot tomorrow.”

I poked him in the chest, laughing, as I arched up to kiss him again, hope for the future swelling in my chest.