“I do want more.” He added. “I want you in my bed on a regular basis. I want to take you to nice places. I want to love you.”
I took a large swig of my brandy, because for a moment I felt I might faint.
“But, you would want more. You would want marriage. A family. I can’t give you those things. So, I sent Brandon to live in the apartment.”
I jolted in my seat.
He held up his hand. “Stay, let me explain.”
I sat while I waited for the words that I expected would tear my life apart.
“Brandon works at a gym I own. He was looking for a place to live. I asked him to flirt with you, maybe take you out a couple of times. I wanted you to be distracted from our rendezvous in the condo. To have some fun. But then he told me. He fell in love with you. And I watched as you fell in love with him. I was happy to step back. He can give you what I can’t.”
I closed my eyes. My relationship with Brandon wasn’t fake. Thank god for that. A deceitful start that I had to think about, but our love for each other was genuine. I could have cried with relief, but the man in front of me wasn’t going to get to see my emotions for another man.
“Then, I watched you at the club. The first time when you saw the auction and the ménage on stage. You looked shocked. Then you came back by yourself and you watched me, though you didn’t know I was under the mask. You got off on it, on seeing two men with one woman. You went home and took the dildo to Brandon. I had told him, if he was enough I would walk away, back right off. But if you craved more I would step up.”
“What do you mean?”
“You love Brandon, you can have a family life with Brandon. But we are willing to offer you more. Brandon is a good man and he sees that he is not enough for you sexually.”
My mind tried its best to process his words and the fact that they were true. It was devastating to hear the facts out loud, but yes, sexually I craved more. It might be that a one-time experience would be enough. I didn’t know. But I desperately wanted to know how it felt to have two men at once.
“So, what now?” I asked.
“Now, Brandon comes down to talk to you. You can either leave with him, or…”
“We come back to the apartment.”
H smiled. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you Tiffany Harris. I hope to see you again, but if not I wish you all the best for your future.” He lifted my hand, kissed the skin next to my knuckles and then rose from his seat and walked away.
What the fuck just happened? And, what did I do?
**
I felt like a girl waiting for a blind date to show up, I was so nervous, as I sat looking for Brandon. He walked around the corner and I saw his head rise searching for me. I waved to him and he smiled. I loved his smile. My stomach settled because of that reassuring smile.
“What are we drinking?” He asked.
“Brandy, but I’ve had two already.”
“Third time lucky,” he winked and motioned for a bartender.
“I’m so sorry, Tiff, for not being completely honest with you. I wanted to tell you so many times about how I had been asked to flirt with you, but then I fell for you anyway.”
“So, why didn’t you?”
“Because I was scared you would walk away. Throw me to the curb. I didn’t want that. I don’t want that. Tiff, I want us to be together always. I want you to wear my ring and have my kids. Do you feel the same way? Or have I damaged us forever by taking a chance that you want more sexual freedom?”
“You haven’t damaged us forever. It was a shock that’s all. A shock that’s still there but having the edges dulled by brandy.”
“And I haven’t scared you talking about commitment?”
“No. Because I feel the same way. When you know, you know, right?”
“Well, I’m glad you feel that way,” he replied. Then he dropped to one knee and opened a box.
“Tiffany Harris. Please would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”