Page 182 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

DIXIE

I wake up. For a few seconds, I lie in bed, and then the memory of last night returns, and I bolt up. What was I thinking?

I’d been so good at keeping my feelings under control. So good at keeping this about sex and nothing else.

Then last night happened. There was sex, sure. But there was also kissing. Cuddling. Spooning. And I’d liked it.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

Hunter’s side of the bed is empty, but Eric is still in bed, fast asleep. He's spooning a pillow, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. In his sleep, he looks younger. Sweeter. The shields he holds in place are down.

I start to reach out and brush the hair off his face, and then I catch myself. What am I doing? What is wrong with me?

Yesterday was a mistake. Maybe it was Hunter’s face lighting up when I brought him food, or maybe it was the way Eric’s eyes kept returning to me. Maybe it was Fiona, spinning tantalizing dreams, hinting that a relationship between the three of us might be possible…

Last night was everything I wanted it to be and more. Last night makes me foolish, and it makes me hopeful, but in this case, hope isn’t a good thing. It’s a terrifying thing.

I want Eric and Hunter. I’m falling for them.

I could ask them if they’d be interested in a real relationship, but if they somehow, against all odds, happen to agree, then what?

I’m not Fiona. I’m not Avery, and I’m not Kiera.

I’m not as strong as my friends. This version of me is a lie.

For years and years, I let William’s judgment hold me back.

Yesterday, I’d flinched when Xavier walked into the kitchen.

I want to be braver, but I’m afraid that put to the test, I’m going to fail.

Maybe the real me is always going to be the woman who wants nothing but missionary with the lights turned down.

I need to get my head back on straight.

I use the toothbrush Hunter found me last night, wash my face, and get dressed in yesterday’s clothes, all except my panties, because that’s just icky. Then I go downstairs, telling myself firmly that I’m not going to linger. I will gulp down some coffee, and then I will leave.

Then I catch sight of Hunter’s expression. He’s staring into space, and there’s something about the way he’s holding himself that alerts me. Something’s wrong. “What happened?”

He looks up. He attempts a smile. “Hey,” he greets me. “Want coffee?”

“Yes. I’ll grab a cup. What’s wrong?”

“Am I that easy to read?” He shakes his head wryly. “My mother left me this house. A local developer is very interested in buying it. He wants to build a gated subdivision here. He’s been hounding me ever since her funeral.”

“Do you want to sell?”

“No,” he admits. “Well, not to him. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, but I don’t think that’s what my mother would have wanted. I left him a message yesterday, declining his offer. I’d hoped he’d take my refusal in stride.”

I pour coffee into a mug and sit down across from him. “From your expression, I take it he didn’t.”

“He’s threatening to shut down the community health center.

I just got a call from their Director of Outreach.

He’s talked their landlord into selling their building.

If they can’t raise two million dollars in fourteen days, they’ll be forced to shut down.

” He takes a deep breath. “I feel responsible for this.”

I open my mouth, and he holds up his hand to forestall me. “If you’re going to tell me this isn’t my fault, I’m going to warn you that while I know that’s technically true, it’s not going to change the way I feel.”

As if I didn’t know that. “That’s not what I was going to say. I was going to ask you why you couldn’t ask your friends for help.” He looks like he has no idea what I’m talking about. I lean forward. “Xavier Leforte?—”

“I can’t ask my billionaire friends to solve all my problems.”

“You’re not,” I retort. “Xavier gives away millions of dollars every year. I can’t think of a more worthy organization than a community health center. You’re not asking Xavier to solve your problems—you’re helping the health center find more donors.”

He hesitates. “I don’t know?—”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Hunter,” I say gently. “Let your friends help. When my mother died, people didn’t always know what to say and what to do, but they all wanted to feel useful. And, as much as I wanted to be left alone, letting them in made me feel better.”

He looks up at me. “Is that why you brought the casserole yesterday? Because you wanted to feel useful?”

He's staring at me, waiting for my answer.

No, I want to say. I came over because I didn't want you to be alone. Because I'm starting to fall in love with you.

But of course, I don’t say that. I’m not brave enough. “I’ve been eating too much takeout,” I say instead, in a weak attempt at humor. “I was afraid I’d forgotten how to cook.”

Eric enters the kitchen before Hunter can respond. He looks sleepy, and his hair is still tousled. “Morning,” he grunts, making a beeline for the coffeepot. “You’re awake far too early.” He inhales half a cup before he continues speaking. “I had different plans for this morning.”

His expression is far too serious. My stomach dives. I have a bad feeling about this. “You did?” I ask lightly. Keep it casual, Dix. “I hope they included one of your fantasies. So far, it’s been all about me. That doesn’t seem fair.”

A shadow passes over Eric's face. It’s gone in a flash. His lips curve into a wicked smile. “Do you want to hear my fantasies, Dix? I have so many of them.”

My emotions are a weird mix of ‘something bad is going to happen’ and ‘that smile of Eric’s turns me on.’ “Like what?”

“I could tell you,” he responds. “But it’ll be easier to show you.”

“You’re not serious.” I start to laugh. “This is your fantasy? You want to mess around in a canoe?”

“Do fantasies have to be serious all the time? Can they never be silly?”

That question punches me in the gut. My sex life has never been silly or fun. That would require too much intimacy, and I’ve never dropped my shields around a partner long enough to allow that to happen.

You dropped them around Eric and Hunter. You told them you wanted to get caught having sex in the back seat of a car. You trusted them with that, and so much more.

Those are uncomfortable thoughts. “There are three of us,” I protest. “We’ll capsize.”

“You don’t know that. Aren’t you even a little curious?” He quirks an eyebrow. “Of course, if you’re afraid of getting wet…”

“Getting wet isn’t the problem, and you know it,” I retort.

Hunter laughs out loud. “Is that a dirty joke, Dixie? I’m proud of you.” He retreats into a nearby shed and emerges with three life jackets. “The lake is really a glorified puddle. The water is waist-high in most places. Still, better safe than sorry.”

“Good idea,” Eric responds. I tug the life jacket on.

Eric zips me up, tightening the straps so it fits me snugly.

When he’s done, I expect him to pull away, but for a long instant, he just stares down at me.

The moment stretches between us, intimate and almost tender, and I don’t know what to make of it.

Does he want to be involved with me? Is that what he was trying to tell me earlier? Am I brave enough to ask?

No, I’m not. I clear my throat and take a half-step back, breaking the spell. “If we’re going to do this, we better get a move on. After all, you have to be at work today, and it’s already past eight.”

“You don’t?”

“I took the day off. I need some downtime, and I have laundry to do.”

“Laundry?” He gives me a sharp look. “Is everything okay, Dix?”

I don’t want to talk about work. “Are we doing this, or are we making small talk?”

“Why not both?” he quips. “Fine. Hunter, you want to get in the bow? Dixie, you take the stern.” He sees my blank look and explains. “Get in the back. I’ll sit in the middle, on the floor of the canoe.”

“This is insane,” Hunter announces, although he’s biting back a smile as he says it. “Alright, let’s go.”

We paddle out to the middle of the lake. “Dixie,” Eric says. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to start by taking off your panties and handing them to me.”

It’s a lovely day. Beautiful and clear and ever so slightly cool.

It’s hard to be tense with such perfect weather.

The knot in my stomach eases. So what if I brought Hunter a casserole and spent the night cuddling with the two of them?

Big deal. We’re back to talking about sexual fantasies.

This is much safer ground. “Sorry,” I tell him with an impish grin. “I can’t do that. I’m not wearing any.”

His eyes go wide, and then he clutches his chest exaggeratedly. “A woman after my own heart.” He winks at me as he frees his cock. It jumps out, mouthwateringly hard and erect. He wraps his hand around the base. “Come on, baby,” he says. “You know what to do. Ride me.”

“You’re nuts.” Despite my protest, I get up very carefully.

The canoe wobbles. We’re definitely going to fall into the lake.

I inch slowly toward him, my heart in my mouth, my hands gripping the sides of the canoe for dear life.

Eric’s hands grip my hips, steadying me, and I sort of collapse on his lap.

“Oof,” he winces.

“Oh God, did I break your cock?”

“I’ll live.” Laughter coats his voice. “Give me a second. Dixie, move just a little bit.”

Hunter’s facing the front. He turns his head around to watch. He’s laughing, and I’m laughing, and Eric is both grimacing in pain and laughing at the same time, and it’s in that ridiculous moment that I know.

I’m not starting to fall for them. It’s too late for qualifiers. I’m completely, utterly, head-over-heels in love with Hunter and Eric.

Eric’s fingers part my folds. I raise my hips to give him room, shock coursing through me. My movement must be a bit too quick—either that or Hunter turns too abruptly to see what’s going on, because the canoe swings wildly and starts to tip.

I jump like a scalded cat, and that’s all it takes.

I end up unceremoniously in the water. Hunter manages to leap forward with a loud splash.

Eric goes under but comes up a moment later.

He’s laughing so hard that his face is red.

“That went pretty well for a first try,” he says when he can finally form words again. “We’ll do better next time.”

Next time.

I’m silent all the way back to the house. Hunter sets out a towel for me, and I shower, alone with my thoughts. I can’t keep sleeping with them casually. My feelings are involved.

When it was just about my sexual fantasies, I found it hard to ask for what I wanted. But now, things are way, way more complicated. Because my heart is involved, and what I want is them. I want more than what they have offered me.

I’m drying my hair when my phone rings.

It’s my brother Michael.

My heart races. Shame surges through me. What would my brother think about what I’m doing? What about Jessica? Would she think I’m a slut, a bad influence on Jonathan and Dylan? Would she keep my nephews away from me?

I close my eyes. William’s face flashes in front of me. His voice sounds in my ears. For fuck’s sake, Dixie. You’re a girl. You’re not supposed to lose your head.

I swipe Michael’s call to voicemail. If it’s urgent, he’ll leave a message.

There are social consequences to being in a threesome.

I haven’t even been able to tell my girlfriends what I’m doing, and they are all in unconventional relationships.

I haven’t been able to tell Hira, even though the longer I go without disclosing to HR that I’m seeing Eric, the more trouble I’m getting myself into.

I’m not brave enough for this.

I go downstairs. Hunter and Eric are sitting at the kitchen table. When I come in, they fall silent. “Dixie,” Eric starts. “Listen, I think we should?—”

“I think we should break up.” I can hear the tears in my voice. I’m trying not to break down. If I look at their faces, I’ll lose it entirely. “It’s time.”

Shock slaps Eric’s face. Hunter’s eyes search mine. I think he senses I’m perilously close to tears. “Dix,” he says, his voice gentle. “Remember what you said to me? Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone. Let us help.”

“You can’t.” Oh God, I’m going to cry. I’m going to burst into loud, noisy sobs. “Thank you for everything. I’ll launder your t-shirt and get it back to you.”

“Fuck the t-shirt,” Hunter says violently. “Please talk to us.”

I can’t. I shake my head silently, spin on my heels, and run for my life.

I’m hoping desperately that they’ll stop me. That they’ll jump in my way, bring me to my senses, and tell me that everything is going to be alright.

But they don’t. They let me go.