Page 32 of Cuffed to my Roomies
“I have to get back to work,” I croaked out.
“Okay,” Brett said, but he hooked an arm around my hips, dragged me effortlessly against him so his huge, rigid hard-on was against the cleft of my thighs, “Just remember what’s waiting for you. As many times as you want it.”
I shuddered at the pressure of his rock-hard erection just above my clit. I wanted to do it in the bathroom, wanted to put my foot on the sink like Cammie had suggested. But I’d been away from the bar for too long, and I had to keep my mind on my work somehow.
“We’ll hang around, have a few drinks, take you home,” Derek said, “And Brett, thanks a whole hell of a lot for interrupting.”
“She doesn’t come without both of us in the room,” Brett said stonily.
“Fine,” Derek said, “Don’t be late next time.”
Back at the bar, Cammie and Jason teased me and laughed, but I could tell they weren’t mad.
“So you’re acting like a horny teenager,” Cammie said, “It happens to all of us. Besides, we had a slump for about half an hour. Most of the customers coming in went to eat dinner at the pub. So I’m going to take my break now.”
“Make it a long one. I owe you,” I said, grateful.
“Then if you owe her, can you cover the whole bar for, say, fifteen?” Jason said. He said it lightly, but it was obvious what he was thinking. He and Cammie were going to go to the staff bathroom and have a good time. I smiled at them.
“Go for it,” I said, “if I run into trouble, it’s not like I don’t have off-duty cops here to come to my rescue.”
Derek and Brett had settled in at one end of the crowded bar. I got them beers and some chicken nachos. I was busy for a while making a couple pitchers of blood orange margaritas for a group of women who came in. When I checked back on my guys, they were arguing over something on ESPN. I refilled their beers, and Derek looked up.
“We’re working out an arrangement,” he told me confidentially, “were anyone caught breaking the ground rules has to buy brunch the following Sunday. So it looks like French toast is on me.”
“What about me? I was breaking the rules.”
“It’s not possible for you to break the rules. You’re supposed to do what you want. The two of us are keeping to ground rules to preserve the friendship when it could get competitive too easily. It’s good that we’re as different as you say, or else jealousy would be the natural step. If you thought we were both just two dudes, random and interchangeable, then we’d be beating the shit out of each other,” Derek said.
“Yeah,” Brett said, “I like that you can tell us apart. It’s important to feel like an individual in a relationship, but more so it’s important in this kind of set-up that we feel like we can be honest with each other, and with ourselves. If there comes a time when you prefer to be with just one of us, you have to tell us so.”
“I will. I’m sorry about that lapse. I was all excited from having a terrific day at work, and I felt really confident and—sexy, I guess. Cammie was egging me on about going to the bathroom with Derek and I acted like a stupid teenager. This only works if we respect the boundaries, and I was the one who initiated it. I was disrespectful to our ground rules. It isn’t that I want Derek exclusively. It’s that I want both of you. A lot. Like, all the time, can’t concentrate kind of wanting.”
“I love the way this conversation is headed, but that woman is waving her empty glass like maybe you should go refill it,” Derek said slyly.
I rushed to the margarita group and made them a new pitcher. I even stood around and listened to their story about a bad breakup that was the reason for their night out. It sounded like Sadie needed the margaritas since her fiancé had just broken things off three weeks before the wedding. I brought out some of our fantastic cheeseburger sliders with the onion jam on the house, shoving twenty dollars of my tips into the till to pay for them.
“Drown your sorrows in cheeseburgers and margaritas tonight, and tomorrow, go out and find a lover. Or two,” I told Sadie, squeezing her hand, “You deserve better.”
Sadie nodded bravely and reached for a slider. Her friend, Hilary, pulled me aside, “That was amazing of you. She needed to hear that. Thank you,” she said. Then she put money in my hand.
“Not necessary. I wanted to do it,” I said, trying to give the money back.
