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An hour later, the four of us are quite the sight at this club I used to frequent several times a week. I was known for my knowledge of kink and my erotic skills, too.
What can I say? A romance author needs to do her research.
Many couples sought me as their unicorn—a bi woman shared with another man and woman already together. But often, I was wary. Their expectations were unrealistic, and I didn’t want to be the reason for friction or a break-up.
I just wanted to have fun so my romantic heart didn’t get broken. I usually kept it to one night only. Sometimes, I’d let couples play with me for the weekend.
But that was months ago.
Months since Valentine’s. Months since my night with Beau Bronson at The Mercier Hotel. Months since I finally fucked my college enemy, who I lusted over for years, because really… Beau and I were secretly in love.
Only twice have we admitted it.
The first time was the night he showed up at my dorm room our senior year with a busted lip, fighting back tears, and I held him all night. I told him it would be okay. I gave him ice for his face. I listened while he confessed his deepest secret and kept it for him. But we never did anything about our love. Through tears shed, we confessed that, too.
Because Beau was dating my roommate, Reese. He was faithful to her, and I was loyal. I don’t fuck other women over. Even though she wasn’t there that night, and we could have. We never did anything about our love, our attraction.
Until eight years later.
This past Valentine’s night.
The feelings Beau and I revealed, the secret fantasies we fulfilled, the kink we shared, it found Beau deep inside me, over and over again, finally confessing our love over moaning lips.
And yeah, since then, my pussy has been in a coma. Self-induced. Numb to others. The feline has flat-lined. It doesn’t wet or purr or even tingle with desire for anyone else because my mind wants to live in the past.
It wants to live forever in that night in the hotel suite with Beau, remembering how I melted with our first kiss. How he kept growling my name and biting my neck. How he held me tight afterward. We weren’t shy together.
Even in college, I always felt safe with Beau.
Though, yeah… we double-majored in wicked pranks on each other.
Like when he kept leaving condoms full of mayonnaise on the hood of my car, or my dorm doorknob, or my favorite… when he managed to superglue one to the bottom of my backpack without me knowing.
So, I bribed his roommates to plant rolls of fake toilet paper everywhere he went. You know, the kind that won’t tear? Yep, they make it. So you have a choice: use it and clog the toilet with two pounds of paper or call for help.
Yeah, I got three of Beau’s shitty situations on video until he finally started carrying his own Charmin in his backpack.
Still, I trusted him.
I secretly loved him.
Because only Beau can make me cry. Like that Valentine’s in The Mercier Hotel when he gave me his Atlanta football jersey before leaving me with his tender kiss goodbye. Like when I buried my face in his hotel pillow, still warm from him, suddenly feeling cold and lost after he left.
Couples and throuples and piles of scantily clad-to-nude bodies fuck all around me. It’s role-play night, and the club smells like sex and sandalwood. Music pumps. So do cocks and dildos. Whips crack the air, and moans of lust lull from every direction in the club around me, but I’m bored shitless.
No, I’m not bored.
I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m overwhelmed that Beau did such a sweet thing for me yesterday.
He purposefully read my newest release, a paranormal romance book inspired by our Valentine’s night, in public, where he knew he’d be spotted. Pics were snapped of him holding my book in his hands.
And I knew that smile on his face. His cute, cocky smile that went viral.
It’s the same smile I’d bust on his sexy face when I’d catch him hiding in the library at college, reading Harry Potter or Tolkien’s books. Only I knew that side of Beau.
Because, for everyone else, he’s just the best quarterback in the country.
So, Beau’s football fame made my book a bestseller in a matter of hours, and then…
