Desiring an Angel, page 18
part #1 of Missing Link 3 Series
We panted and stilled, Ash boneless on my desk, me wishing I could collapse atop him on our bed. The office afforded no such luxury.
Thank fuck for attached bathrooms.
I kissed where I’d bitten and ran my tongue over his neck, tasting remnants of his natural salt and soap.
So fucking delicious.
“Goddamn, baby,” I groaned, slowly backing out of him, my dick sensitive as fuck as he clenched around me as though unwilling to let me go too.
Ash shuddered as I slipped free, and I spread his ass cheeks watching my cum drip from his asshole. I shoved some back in, reaching deep until he hissed.
“Fucking caveman.”
“Mmm hmm,” I agreed, then gave his thigh a quick slap.
Every cell in my body tingling, I cleaned us both up, tucked my spent dick away, and pulled him down onto my lap again.
Eyes closed, our foreheads rested together.
My muscles went lax, and I simply breathed him in, loving how we fit, how my mind and soul quieted while wrapped up in him.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been giving you my attention lately,” he whispered.
I knew why he hadn’t been, how his drive to find a mother for his children and sunshine for our lives gave him tunnel vision. The fact he recognized what I’d been going through since Skylar’s arrival stilled some of my deep-seated unrest over her barreling into our lives.
He kissed me softly, a mere press of lips. “How about we go out on a date tonight? Just you and me.”
That was the best idea he’d had since flying to Florida to offer his shoulder for me to lean on.
I agreed and answered with a simple, “Yes,” hopeful that things would somehow work out for all three of us to be happy—satisfied.
But I didn’t hold my breath.
29
Skylar
Bagging groceries was easy. Mundane. Required no thought beyond don’t put bananas on top of lettuce or canned goods with bread.
I seemed to have found a job that only required the skills I possessed. Organization.
Life was going well.
Sharing a bed with two men, one of which loved on me nonstop, the other just as standoffish as Ashton had warned me about Rhett’s character. But I would wear him down eventually.
I’d done so once, so it was only a matter of time before he relented to the pull between us again.
Since I worked daytime hours, the three of us had ended up cooking dinner with each other, and I felt as though I fit in their dynamic pretty well.
Home goods…in one bag. Dryer sheets wrapped in a plastic bag first…
I’d hoped that Rhett would soften toward me after that night in the living room when we’d connected, but with every passing day, I wondered over his renewed coldness that had begun when Ashton had come in my mouth.
Rhett had closed down after retreating to the bathroom and hadn’t touched me since.
Not wanting to cause waves, I kept my concern of his experiencing jealousy and insecurities to myself and tried to figure out what to do, refusing to acknowledge Nora might be right about that whole third wheel thing. It seemed I normally ended up on Ashton’s left while Rhett had his right—in bed and out of it.
I counted myself lucky that Ashton invited me to join them every night and I hadn’t yet been tossed out on my backside.
Another bagger came over to relieve me, and I couldn’t believe how quickly the morning had flown by. I grabbed a premade salad with grilled chicken from the deli and went to the break room to eat my lunch and try not to stew over the unrest in the house I’d begun to see as my home.
A text waited for me from twenty minutes earlier, causing my heart to stutter and take to flight. I skimmed his message, my eyes flitting across the words as a whole.
Ashton: Rhett and I are going out to dinner tonight.
Grinning, I texted back, butterflies in my belly over dating in public as a triad for the first time. Do you want me to just take an Uber and meet you there, or did you plan to go home and change before heading out?
I popped the lid on my salad, poured two packets of ranch atop it, and dug in. The savory buttermilk and herb flavor burst on my tongue, and I moaned while chewing.
Picking up my phone, I saw he hadn’t texted back yet—and I looked at the message I hadn’t taken the time to read word for word the first time.
The two of them were going out. Not all of us.
My smile dissolved.
I’d made a fool out of myself by not slowing my brain down.
Idiot. Moron.
Other put-me-downs rushed through my head as another message came through.
Ashton: We need some alone time.
I swallowed hard and dropped my fork, my hands too shaky to text.
Tapping the speech-to-text button, I lifted my cell closer to my mouth and let loose with the thoughts zapping through my brain at the pace of a lightning bolt.
“Is this your way of putting distance between us? I’m a lot, but I really feel like we have something good going on, Ashton. Have you tired of me already?” My throat attempted to swell shut as tears stung my eyes, and I stumbled over my words in my haste to spew them. “If I did wrong, please tell me. I burned the toast this morning and spilled your coffee, but that was me just being clumsy. I—I can do better. I promise. Just let me know what to do and I’ll do it.”
Breathless, I hit send and chewed on the inside of my lip rather than my salad. No way in hell my stomach would handle food with how it had tightened up.
Ashton: I’m not upset with you, and the last thing I want is to end this beautiful connection we’ve made.
“Oh, thank fuck.” I rarely used the F word, but the situation of giddy to anxiety to relief, demanded more than an oh crap!
My fingers worked a bit better as I typed a response. So if you aren’t mad, can I ask why it’s just the two of you going out to dinner?
Ashton: I’ve been so caught up in you that I think Rhett is a little jealous and missing me.
Rhett jealous of little old me…exactly as I’d wondered even though it seemed impossible since I’d known Ashton all of two weeks and they’d had decades together.
Ashton: We aren’t used to sharing each other beyond one-night stands. It’s something we’re all going to have to work on. Being in a polyamorous relationship isn’t going to be easy, but it’ll be worth the effort of trying—I just know it.
All I saw in that message was one-night stands.
He and Rhett had women between them before, something I’d known but hadn’t really thought about that much.
My stomach refused to relax, and I put the top back on my salad and tossed it in the trash, my forehead dented with a frown.
I hated the fact I didn’t have them all to myself, that I had to share them with memories of other women…
The thought trailed off.
I suddenly understood Rhett’s jealousy.
A swell of empathy attempted to drown me in the need to smother him with the assurance and affection he’d seemed to thrive under that one night he’d allowed me a glimpse of his true self.
My fingers once more shook, but I texted Ashton back. I hope you have a relaxing dinner together. I think it’s best too if I stay in the guest room tonight. In fact, I’ll probably be sleeping by the time you get home.
Ashton: Please don’t feel bad about this. I really want things to work out between the three of us.
“Such a sweetheart,” I murmured to myself while smiling even though my heart ached for Rhett and the entire emotional situation he found himself in. I could do better to help him—maybe even heal whatever crack my arrival had caused in their relationship.
Me: I understand how Rhett is feeling, and I know your love for him runs deep. Enjoy your date night. I’ll have breakfast ready for you in the morning. Sleep well—and be as loud as you want before doing so. I won’t complain.
I included a wink emoji, a couple of kissing ones, and hopped up to get back to work.
My cell pinged again, and I dug it out of my back pocket, still smiling.
For the second time in twenty minutes, my lips flatlined.
Nora had texted.
Not Ashton.
I hadn’t spoken to my sister since she’d kicked me out of the house. Her single line text took me from relaxed to anxious once more.
I’m taking your cell off my plan.
No, how are you doing? No, I hope you’re doing well. Not even something sarcastic about bad choices and wondering over if I’d reaped the consequences yet of running off with a man I didn’t even know.
The cell pinged again.
Mom told me you won’t listen to reason, and even though Dad said you’re free to fly, I hope you realize the bed you’re making for yourself will end in nothing but heartache.
I didn’t respond, simply shoved my cell back into my pocket and trudged back to work, my mind preoccupied with my own situation.
Finances.
Affording a cell phone plan of my own.
No credit.
Working long hours for minimum wage that was far from what a person could live off in sunny California where a loaf of bread cost three times as much as the middle of nowhere South Dakota.
I crushed a box of strawberries with a bag of apples.
Flattened two packages of hamburger rolls with boxes of their frozen counterparts.
The first customer to gripe at my inability to properly pack groceries got me an eye roll from the cashier I bagged for.
The second and third had me again muttering an apology, but I couldn’t keep tears from welling in my eyes.
Paying attention became impossible, and before long, the manager came over to check on me.
More apologies, tears slipping down my cheeks, promises to do better…and she kindly suggested I take the rest of the afternoon off.
“A-Are you firing me?” I managed to squeak out, wanting to curl inward at the attention our conversation drew from customers and co-workers alike.
“Of course not.” She lightly touched my shoulder, and I blew out a breath at her kind smile.
“I’m really sorry. Sometimes my brain goes all wonky, and I can’t focus. It’s even worse when my feet get antsy too,” I blurted.
The manager steered me by my elbow toward the customer service station at the store’s front. Once in relative privacy, she turned toward me, her lips still curled upward.
“My son has ADHD and is a living jumping bean.”
A huff of relieved laughter escaped me. “You understand.”
“I do. Some days are better than others, that’s for sure. What meds does your doctor have you on?”
“Um…none?” I shrugged. “I don’t have insurance. I’ve never even been properly diagnosed—but it’s pretty obvious I have issues.”
“You said you just moved to town,” my manager said, pulling her cell from her pocket.
“Yeah.” I rubbed my palms down my jeans, my toes tapping to move.
“I’m going to send you my mother-in-law’s office number. She’s a primary care physician and has studied ADHD extensively because of my son. I think she’d be able to help you.”
Tears once more stung my eyes, and I gave her my number to text the contact info.
“Your health insurance benefits won’t kick in for close to three months, but my mom will set up an easy payment plan of what you can afford, okay?”
I nodded, dashing my forearm across my cheek.
“Now head home and rearrange a closet or two,” she suggested with a knowing smile.
Laughing, I promised that I would.
And I did.
I wanted to attack Rhett and Ashton’s walk-ins to color-coordinate everything they owned, but I needed to give them space outside close proximity.
The linen closet got a thorough clean out, as did the fridge. A half-dozen or so different bottles of sauces, dressings, and condiments that had expired landed in the trash can.
Once finished, I cooked myself dinner for one, wondering how my men fared wherever they’d gone to dine.
My men…I felt I had a right to claim a piece of Ashton’s heart, but Rhett needed some persuading once he settled his thoughts and heart into accepting our connection and how right the three of us could be as a triad.
Doubled down in my determination to win him over, I crawled into bed at too early of an hour with a couple of romance novels from the library.
Annie Kelly swept me from reality, reigniting my desire for a proper threesome, and although my body burned when I heard Ashton and Rhett return home, I stayed put.
Ears straining, I listened as they reset the alarm and went to their bedroom.
I imagined their door locked.
The shower turned on and washing away the work day.
They would crawl into their big bed and make love to one another, reassuring each other of their devotion.
I’d seen Rhett’s passion for Ashton. Hopefully, Ashton would draw it out, and Rhett’s emotions would settle.
Because I wanted more with him too.
And there was no way I could afford to move elsewhere anytime soon.
30
Rhett
Ingesting a half-glass of wine and our appetizer sent Ash rushing to the bathroom.
He returned a full ten minutes later, pale and shaky, unable to eat the dinner that had been delivered in his absence. We boxed the food up to take with us. Ashton’s “I’m fine—just a bug or something” rang false in my ears, but he waved me off the two times I tried to question him.
We’d left his car at the office, and I told him we could head in together in the morning after dropping Skylar at work. Arriving a little later than my usual time would be fine.
I didn’t want him driving alone.
Allowing him his mental space, I held his hand atop his thigh on the way home from the restaurant.
“Sure you’re okay, baby?” I murmured when his head tipped back against the headrest.
“Everything will be fine. I just need to sleep.”
Skylar has been wearing his ass out—
I cut the thought because they didn’t fuck more than he and I had before she’d entered our lives. But, I had taken him hard and rough over my desk earlier that day.
The memory twitched my groin with interest, but I set aside fantasies of doing anything more than cuddling chest to chest.
He’d told Skylar he and I were going on a date, and she offered to sleep in the guest room so we could have some alone time.
I didn’t want to appreciate her selflessness, but I did.
Immensely.
Once home, I insisted we shower, taking my time to wash Ash from head to toe. He sank into my focused attention as though soaking every caress, every loving touch to his skin as gentle rain-like water from the shower heads above us filled the room with steam and soothing warmth.
Dried and naked, we crawled into our bed, both of us letting out sighs as we pressed in close together in a cocoon of heated bodies and soothing hands.
Ashton’s paleness had lessened, but he seemed…frail. Fragile.
He slid a hand between us and pressed a fist to his sternum like he had indigestion.
“Sure you’re okay?” I whispered and kissed his forehead, his damp hair tickling my nose.
“Just tired and achy.” He snuggled in closer, and I trailed my fingertips down his spine.
“I’m sorry for taking you so hard today.”
“Don’t be. It was hot as fuck.”
I chuckled, loving the smile in his voice.
“It reminded me of when we were teenagers and couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
I still couldn’t get enough of him, but we’d definitely lost some of the desperation we’d had as kids.
Kissing him again, I breathed in the scent of the body wash we shared, woodsy with hints of spice beneath. I could easily lick every inch of his skin, grow hard, and beg for his ass again, but he lay unmoving, exhausted.
“Want me to give you a blow job?” he asked, making me smile again.
“Sleep, baby,” I murmured, loving how easily he read my mind so I wouldn’t have to use words. “But you can wake me up that way if you want.”
“I do want,” he whispered, already half asleep.
Me too.
A few days passed with Ash giving me more attention while I did my best to ignore Skylar and her nonstop chatter. She tried so hard to win me over, but I wouldn’t be moved in my stance against emotional involvement.
Just the thought of lowering my walls and allowing feelings to dictate my actions made me cringe.
Ash experienced indigestion after every meal, rubbing at his sternum, but told us both there was nothing to be concerned about. Those were the instances where I liked Skylar—she watched him closely, always put her hands on him with a soothing touch like he’d told me his mom had often done when he hadn’t felt well.
The way she took care of him eased some of the tension inside me, but a part of me still remained…off toward her, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Ash managed to sit through the whole meal without going to the bathroom on Thursday night and leaving Skylar and I alone but excused himself the second we finished.
With Skylar’s attention focused on cleaning off the table with me, her usual chattiness flitting from one topic to another and giving me whiplash didn’t occur.
For the first time since moving into our home, she appeared subdued, her smiles fake.
I hated that I considered her strange behavior, even more than I missed her happiness.
Ash hadn’t seemed to be aware of the change in her all through dinner, but I’d picked up on the forced sound of her laughter, the lack of a twinkle in her eyes.
Keeping Ash happy meant trying to do the same for Skylar…
“Are you alright?” I asked, my tone lacking its usual bite.
Her head whipped toward me, her lips parted in a way that made me want to ravage her mouth, and she blinked. Stared as I dried one of the wine glasses she’d washed.
