Rough Exile

I snatched my dress off Bron’s legs and shot them both a sassy glare, then went to dig through my mountain of new undergarments. The dress had a low back, which meant I would either need a very specific bra or I was going to have to go braless.

Both men rolled out of bed and started browsing through their own clothes.

“So, are there any more surprises today, or is this a simple breakfast?”

Ilya shrugged. “As far as I know, it is only breakfast. I don’t even know if anyone else will be around. Some of them might have gone home already.”

“Can we go home already?”

“Don’t you want to look around? We could go sightseeing this afternoon.”

“Sightseeing?”

“It’s traditional for newlyweds to tour the city. We spared you that last night since we had just arrived, and everything was a surprise.”

“You wanted to give me time to get used to being tricked into marriage, so I wouldn’t scream at strangers on the street to rescue me.”

He stopped buttoning his shirt and leveled his gaze on me. “You really hate it so much?”

“You’re not serious about staying married, are you? I mean, I know it would make things easier for the two of you to be together if you had me posing as your wife, but you’re not going to want me here all the time. If I go back to the States, you guys could travel wherever you wanted to and say you were coming to see me.”

He dropped his hands from the shirt and grabbed my wrist fast enough to make me gasp. He pulled me against him and kissed me long and hard. At first, I stiffened at the unexpectedness of it, but it was impossible not to respond to him. My heart performed a little funny somersault, and I groaned inwardly, knowing damn well I was already hopelessly in love with both of them and hating that the whole situation was still making me feel off balance.

Living over, under, and around each other had sort of sped up what a normal dating process would be like. I’d had a friend who’d gotten married after dating a guy for six months and she still seemed happy enough. We’d only been together for about three, but we had been alone for most of it. Just us, living and working together and having a hell of a lot of sex—not to mention all the conversations and movies, as well as the games we’d played in the evenings. As soon as I’d arrived on their island, they’d incorporated me into their life.

“We haven’t even known each other very long.”

“What does time mean? The deed is already done. Now you must only decide whether you will give your husbands a chance, or if you will run away like a coward.” Bron patted my shoulder, but I staggered with the weight of it. He righted me and fixed my dress, as though he hadn’t realized his own strength.

“You should write greeting cards,” I said wryly. He looked at me in confusion, and I shook my head. “It’s a joke. I’m saying you’re not very romantic.”

“You want romance?” He snorted. “What is more romantic than us sharing your pussy last night?”

“Should we have gotten you flowers?” Ilya asked, brow creased in concern.

“Bron’s version of romance is…unusual.”

“And since you didn’t marry any of those other men before you met us, I have to assume those other kinds of romance are inferior.” He gave a satisfied nod and then clapped Ilya’s shoulder. No wonder I’d almost fallen over. He was used to someone Ilya’s size, not mine.

“Shall we go see what my family is plotting?” Ilya asked. With that, we finished getting ready and left the room.