Triple Sec, page 24
“You think this is funny?” Kade said, sharp and edging toward desperation. “I’m sitting here watching you fuck yourself, and you’re laughing?”
Mel slowed down a moment, casting a questioning glance over at Kade. If they were actually angry and not playing around—
Kade gave her a subtle look, licking their lips and tipping their chin in Mel’s direction as if to say, Go ahead. Don’t stop.
Well, as long as it was done in fun. Mel grinned and added a second finger. “I think it’s hilarious.”
Kade gave a whiny scoff. “I’m getting all filthy because of you.” They weren’t lying; Mel could see the sheen of fluid smeared over their belly.
“Not my problem.” Mel gleefully planted her feet on the floor and lifted her hips, panting as she found the perfect angle. “If you can’t control yourself, that’s on you.”
Kade’s shaking arms dropped from their raised position. They sat with their legs crisscrossed, hands on their knees. Mel could see Kade’s fingertips digging into their kneecaps to keep themself in check. “Let me touch you. I promise I’ll make you feel good,” they purred.
“I’m feeling great as is, thanks,” Mel said, and demonstrated it thoroughly. She writhed against her hand, her release so close, she could feel the shape of it looming inside her. “But”—she panted for air—“go ahead. Touch yourself. Let me see.”
The shift in the air was immediate. Kade dove forward so they were on hands and knees, their hand wrapping around their hard cock and stroking it in a tight fist. They crawled until their mouth hovered over Mel’s, the both of them breathing hard into each other.
“Can I taste you?” Asked in a breath that was hot against Mel’s skin.
She pursed her lips and blew Kade a kiss. “Not yet.”
Kade groaned, their eyes sliding shut in what could have been frustration or pleasure. Probably both. “Mel—”
“Oh, we’re doing first names now?” Mel put her tongue to the corner of her mouth. She was almost there, almost. Her hand hastened against her, into her. She pressed one breast into the cage of her free hand, fingers kneading flesh. “Wait until I’m coming. Then you can do anything you like.”
Their eyes snapped open, pupils blown so wide only black showed. “Anything? Can I make a mess out of you?”
Mel smiled. They already had, but she could do the more literal version, too. “Fuck yes.”
Kade pressed their forehead to Mel’s shoulder, hot skin to skin, their moan a sweet counterpoint to Mel’s quickening movements. They whispered shattered bits of nonsense, things Mel could barely parse. Her cold marble statue, reduced to whimpers. It was enough to make her body clench and her orgasm roared right over her. A fire that consumed and cleansed.
“Oh—” Her spine went stick-straight, her toes splaying.
She watched Kade swing a leg over her. They propped themself up on one hand, the other jacking their cock. Their gaze was fixed on her, roving over her face, her heaving chest, her stuttering hips, her twitching stomach.
“Now?” The heat in their voice was incandescent.
Mel shut her eyes and tossed her head back. “Yes, fuck, do it.”
A strangled cry, and then Kade was coming, too. Hot splashes landed on Mel’s navel, her hip, in the triangle of her pubic hair. It seemed to go on for a long time until finally Kade went still, hand wrapped around their cock, the only motion in their body their lungs moving like bellows. Mel looked down at herself. Her flushed skin was shiny with Kade’s come. It was a new sensation, one she liked. She slowly pulled her fingers free of the clutch of her body with a sigh and dragged a fingertip through the pool on her belly. It was tacky, like syrup.
“You better pray there’s still hot water in this place,” she murmured, fond.
Kade blinked at her like they’d forgotten how to speak English. Then, giving up on saying anything, they lowered their mouth to Mel’s.
The kiss was indulgent, slow compared to their earlier frantic make out, though no less heated. Kade’s tongue swept over Mel’s like a promise, and when they pulled away, their eyes held it, too. They shifted down Mel’s body and fucking licked her, lapping up the fluid on her belly.
Mel dug her clean hand through their hair with a hysterical laugh. “You’re going to clean me up yourself, huh? This is a full-service experience.”
“I aim to please,” Kade whispered into her skin. They kissed her hip, nosed into her body hair, catching every drop. Moving lower and lower, they settled between her jellylike spread legs. “Shall I clean up the mess you made while I’m here?” They rubbed their cheek against her thigh, right above her own slick wetness.
Mel hummed and petted her fingers through their hair. “As long as you don’t expect me to come again so soon after that. I can’t really do multiples.” One and done was her lifelong MO, anyway.
Kade lifted their head and looked at her. “Have you ever tried?” They licked their lips like a wolf.
Well. No time like the present. “Okay, St. Cloud.” She guided them by the hair toward her cunt. “Show me what you got.”
CHAPTER 23
It took two days for the power to come back on and would take another two for the road to get plowed. It was the longest vacation Mel had ever had, and she appreciated every minute with Kade. Besides the sex (fantastic), they made time for eating meals of plain noodles (boiled on the gas stove) and s’mores (roasted over the fire). There was also plenty of time to mix new concoctions for Kade to taste.
“What’s this one?” Kade asked, hooking their chin over Mel’s shoulder as she added various things to a blender.
“It’s a play on a Last Word. There’s no Chartreuse in the liquor cabinet, so I’m making a kind of green juice. Thawed spinach from the freezer with fennel seed and dill from the spice rack.” She ran the blender on high, blitzing the veggies into a verdant pulp.
“Sounds healthy,” Kade said.
Mel hummed a doubtful note. “Probably reads more SoCal than New York, huh?” She strained the green liquid into a cup and added a judicious measure to the gin, maraschino liqueur, and lime already waiting in the shaker.
“I think it could still meet the brief.” They stepped away to give Mel the space to shake. “You’re taking this competition seriously, aren’t you?”
Mel finished shaking and strained the frosty contents into a waiting glass. “Lot of money on the line. You bet your ass I’m taking it seriously.” She pushed the glass down the counter toward Kade. “Try that.”
Kade took up the glass and sipped at it. They waited a moment, then took a second sip. Mel waited as patiently as she could; she’d come to understand that Kade needed plenty of time before voicing their opinions.
“It’s weird,” they finally said. No punches pulled there. They took another drink. “It’s gin-based?”
“Yeah,” Mel said. “Why?”
“You’ve been making a lot of gin drinks this weekend.”
“Well, you like gin, don’t you?”
“I do. But—” They set their half-empty glass on the counter with a thoughtful click. “When I’m working on a commission, I often find myself trying to find a balance between what my patron wants and what my own vision is.”
“Balance.” Mel frowned. “Sounds tough.” She picked up the glass and took a swig of her own. Not her best work. It tipped too much into the medicinal, even the sharpness of the citrus fading against that vegetal taste.
“It can be,” Kade said. They swayed forward, dragging a kiss across Mel’s lips.
Mel pulled back, determined not to be distracted. “So you don’t think I should make a gin drink for the competition? Ten years ago, no way, but now gin’s having a moment. There’s potential for mass appeal if I just—”
Kade kissed her again, lingering this time in a way that thoroughly distracted her. “Balance,” they said against her mouth at the end of it. “You’ll get there. I know you will.”
Mel hiked them up to sit on the counter and got somewhere else entirely.
That night, Mel curled up in the nest they’d made on the floor in front of the fire. She was dressed in her most comfortable, rattiest pajamas and playing with Kade’s hair. Their head lay in her lap. They were wearing a blue silk smoking jacket because they couldn’t even do nightwear like a regular person. Which was good, because Mel liked them as irregular as they could get.
“So,” Mel said, looking up at the ceiling beams, “what happens when we go home?”
Kade yawned behind their hand. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do we… keep this up? Somehow?” She tried to keep her tone casual, but it was becoming clear to everyone, Mel included, that she was no good at casual.
Kade must have sensed her question’s import. They sat up slowly, their elbows hooking around their upturned knees, and turned to regard Mel. “When you say ‘this,’ ” they said, “I assume you’re not referring solely to sex. You mean this, too. The intimacy, the closeness. Am I right?”
Not a single punch pulled again. Mel scrubbed a hand over her shorn head and sighed. “Yeah. That stuff. All of it.”
Kade smiled. Invisible, except Mel knew how to look for it now. “I would like to keep that up,” they said. “Would you?”
Mel tried to imagine going back to New York—the real world, their normal lives—and never kissing Kade again. Never playing silly, sexy games with them, never talking late into the night about things they couldn’t tell anyone else. She didn’t like how that looked. She didn’t like it one bit. Only a few months ago, Mel had been convinced she would never be interested in anyone but Bebe, but now? Now she was feeling very grateful for the freedom their guidelines gave her.
“Yeah.” She raised both brows, surprised at herself for saying it so easily. “Yeah, I would.” Her knee nudged into the small of Kade’s back. “Have you and Bebe ever shared someone before?”
They shook their head, still smiling. “No, not really. It presents a unique challenge, but I’m prepared to try if you are.”
“And if she isn’t?” Mel asked.
Kade waved a hand through the air. “She will be.”
“Oh?” Mel sat up, too, her hands propping her up from behind. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know her,” Kade said. They leaned over and kissed her, a quiet, reassuring press of lips and teeth against Mel’s. “And I know you. And I know she knows you, and she knows—”
“Okay, yep, we all know each other.” Mel laughed. Her gaze fell to Kade’s mouth. “Or at least, we’re getting there.” Kade swayed close again, but Mel stopped them with a single fingertip poked into their chest. “What do I call you now? Are you my girlfriend?”
Kade made a face like they’d smelled something awful. “Please, anything but that. It sounds so… juvenile.”
“Metamour-turned-amour?”
“That’s quite complicated, don’t you think?”
“How about ‘associate’? That’s suitably grown-up.” She nodded to herself. “Kissing associate. Senior smooching associate.”
“I can’t believe I’m this attracted to you,” Kade muttered almost to themself.
On the fifth day, the snowplow arrived. Actual Mounties came to the cabin to escort them safely out of the wilderness. They weren’t dressed like cartoons or riding horses—much to Mel’s disappointment—but they assured her they were the modern-day version. Mel and Kade were back in Calgary before they knew it.
Once they returned to the land of cell reception, Mel answered about a million texts from Daniel, asking her where she was and why she hadn’t come home as scheduled. She made a mental note to give him Bebe’s number for any future emergencies—Kade’s, too, come to think of it. It was nice to know Daniel still cared, at any rate. She texted him an explanation from the Calgary airport, to which he’d only responded:
Glad you’re safe. No emojis, not even one heart. Yeah, she was going to have to do some gardening with that one.
She also texted Bebe with updates, as did Kade. Mel wanted to save the details for an in-person conversation, so she only gave the vaguest, broadest strokes. They were both fine. Their flight was leaving soon. She missed Bebe so much. She couldn’t wait to see her and talk about—stuff.
Mel lifted her head from where she was hunched over her phone, waiting to go through airport security. “Hey, how much are you telling Bebe about what happened?” she asked.
Kade merely held up their phone to show Mel their last message to Bebe:
You’re right. She can be very mean when she wants to be.
Bebe had responded with about six hundred exclamation points and one emoji of water droplets.
The flight home was blissfully uneventful. When Bebe opened the door of the condo for them, she was wearing a smile on her face and a faded NYU T-shirt hanging to mid-thigh and nothing else.
“I knew it!” she crowed, pointing at Mel and Kade in turn. “You kissed! You did more than kiss! Your faces say it all.”
“So would my mouth, if you waited one second for me to tell you,” Kade said with regal patience.
Bebe ignored them, instead doing a kind of victory dance in the doorway. It looked suspiciously like the lawn mower. “Score one for me! You both owe me a Coke.”
“I never made a bet with you about this,” Kade said. They turned to Mel, their eyes wide and scandalized. “I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“You didn’t know,” Mel said to Bebe as she brushed past to enter the condo. “You couldn’t have known! We didn’t know.” She dumped her backpack on the floor and flung herself face-first onto the sofa. Why was it so exhausting to sit in an airplane for a few hours?
“Au contraire, darling sweethearts.” Bebe welcomed Kade inside and shut the door, divesting them of their winter overcoat. “You’re both too alike. Attraction was bound to happen.”
This was met with a veritable wall of hollering.
“We are nothing alike!” Mel cried, sitting up on the sofa.
Kade went right into threats: “You take that back.”
“If anything, we’re polar opposites.”
“Not true.” Bebe shook her head and held up a single, perfectly manicured finger. “You’re both cranky bitches—and I say that with all the affection in the world—but secretly you’re also sensitive artists brimming with hidden passions.”
“Please stop.” Kade massaged their temples with their fingertips. “I will give you money to stop. Name the price.”
“I hate this,” Mel said. She mock-pouted, her arms crossed over her chest. “I take it back. I want a refund.”
“No you don’t,” Bebe singsonged as she traipsed up the stairs.
Kade looked at Mel with an apology in their eyes. They came to stand right in front of her, leaning down to give her a kiss. “She can be a handful.”
“Well, that’s what we love about her,” Mel said. She curled her fingers into the weird asymmetric collar of Kade’s shirt and pulled them down to join her on the couch.
NEWLY Updated GUIDELINES FOR POLY LIVING WITH BEBE & MEL + KADE
Communication in everything. Even when it’s hard. (THIS IS HARD.)
New partners may be added to anyone’s personal roster so long as all involved are informed beforehand with an open discussion in mind.
Be respectful of boundaries. Everyone gets to decide for themselves what they want to hear about their partner’s other partners and what they are willing to have shared of themselves.
For the health and peace of mind of everyone involved, we all agree to be tested regularly.
Though a married, cohabitating couple will naturally have some joint obligations that cannot be avoided, all involved agree that there will be no “power ranking” of couples in the arrangement, i.e., one partner will not be held as superior or more important than the other when it comes to scheduling, distribution of affection, etc.
Bebe agrees to keep the arrangement with Mel casual, as defined by: Mel and Bebe agree to see where this goes as a committed couple. No commitments more than three weeks in the future
No use of the L word for any reason Use of L word encouraged for any reason
No endearments except for “sweetheart.” Variations on “sweetheart” not permitted
Additionally, Mel and Kade agree to also being a committed couple. No endearments (LAST NAMES ARE NOT ENDEARMENTS)—yes, they are!
Mel’s caveat: Though all involved will be expected to communicate, a degree of separation should be maintained between the pairs to preserve each unique relationship. E.g., no third wheels on date nights.
“So we can’t grab dinner together?” Bebe asked, her pen poised above the much-revised paper.
“A quick dinner is fine if it’s just about eating,” Mel said, “but my point is, I don’t want to horn in on your and Kade’s alone time. You wouldn’t want to disrupt ours, right?”
“But we all enjoy each other’s company.” Kade sipped at their cocktail—a Mel-crafted G&T. They were lounging on the floor with their head pillowed on Bebe’s knee while the two women pored over the guidelines between them on the sofa. “I thought we might—spend more time together, the three of us.” They tipped their head back and looked warily at Bebe, that silent communication that Mel couldn’t hope to understand.
All the more reason why they needed this rule. Everyone had to know their place, most of all her.
“I would feel more comfortable if we kept everything organized in a way that makes sense. Bebe and I make sense; you and I make sense; you and Bebe make sense. Simple. No need to complicate things.”
Bebe drew in a quiet breath. “If that’s how you feel…”
“It is.” Mel tapped the paper with her fingernail. “Make sure it’s underlined. So we don’t forget.”
PART THREE THREE PARTS TEQUILA
CHAPTER 24
Mel assumed that being polyamorous, like anything else in the world, could be mastered through careful study.
