It’s been almost twenty-four hours since what happened between Aiden and Grace and I. Aiden and I are good. We spent a few hours in the gym one-upping each other and lifting weights and not talking about jack shit.
But it’s weird with Grace. She’s barely been around all day, off hiking in the morning with the campers, and then breezing through the house on her way to some kind of trust exercise in the afternoon that she pointedly did not ask us to join in on.
Now, the campers are gathered around a roaring fire on the last night of the camp roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. Aiden and I are out here hanging out with the kids trying to make up for being dickheads the other day and getting into a near-fight in front of them. We even spent the last hour before the hot dog roast throwing footballs and teaching them plays.
Grace has definitely been avoiding us. She’s hardly made eye contact, and she’s either really fucking busy with the camp or she’s pretending to be so she doesn’t have to talk to us. I don’t know what the hell that means. Either she’s totally freaked out by what happened or else she thinks it’s no big deal. Regardless, she can’t just avoid talking to us forever, at least I hope not – especially because I want what happened to continue happening.
“Now it’s going to be really awkward having her as a neighbor,” Aiden says. “I told you it would be weird.”
“You said no such thing,” I correct. “In fact, I’m the one who told you not to shit where you eat.”
“That was good advice.”
Grace has been making the rounds, talking to all of the campers and counselors, and she chooses that exact time to greet Louis and Spencer, who are standing near us elbowing each other and cracking jokes about wieners.
“Did you guys get hot dogs yet?” she asks them.
Spencer nods. “We’re about to go get wieners.” He heavily emphasizes the word wieners before snickering.
Beside me, Aiden chuckles under his breath. “Wieners,” he repeats.
I give him a look.
“I want a big fat wiener,” Louis says, snorting. “Do you want a big fat wiener, Spencer?”
“Go get hot dogs from the counselors over there,” Grace says sternly, obviously trying to change the subject. “And don’t run with the roasting sticks.”
“Yeah,” Spencer says, elbowing Louis. “Walk to get your wiener.”
“Can I get a stick to roast two wieners at the same time?” Louis asks. “I’m starving. I want two.”
I think I hear Aiden snort.
Grace’s face pales.
“Don’t be greedy,” Spencer says. “The counselors said one at a time, not two. Only greedy people want two.”
I cut him off. “Go get your hot dogs.”
There’s an awkward moment of silence between the three of us, before Aiden breaks it. “Yeah. So, speaking of two wieners…”
Fucking hell.
Grace’s eyes get big and she clears her throat. “No, no, no,” she says, shaking her head before she mumbles something and grabs the arm of a counselor passing by, pretending she needs to talk to the counselor but it’s obvious as hell that she’s just trying to get away from us as fast as she can.
I glare at Aiden. “Fuck, Aiden. Really? That's what you lead with? ‘Speaking of two wieners?’”
“What? They were laughing about two wieners. Come on. You weren’t thinking the same thing?”
"That's besides the point," I hiss. "She's already uncomfortable, obviously. Way to make it even more uncomfortable."
"You're assuming she's uncomfortable. Maybe she just wants to hit it and quit it."
"Do you want to hit it and quit it?"
Aiden looks sheepish. "No."
"Well, then we need to talk to her. And we need to make it less awkward. Got any bright ideas?"
"Flowers," Aiden suggests. "Chicks love flowers."
"Great idea," I tell him sarcastically. "Why don't you go run out and get flowers at seven o'clock at night? Maybe the gas station down the road has some classy bouquets."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should knit her a scarf."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do."
I look at him through narrowed eyes, my fists clenched at my side. "Who told you?"
"You left your knitting needles out one day."
"One day when?" I ask, increasingly pissed off. "Did you go through my shit?"
"One day like six months ago," Aiden admits. "At your old place."
"You've been sitting on that for six months?"
"I know. It was a real gold nugget of information. I was waiting for a good time to drop it."
"Your sense of timing is fantastic."
"What can I say? I'm Aiden Jackson."
"Go find some flowers," I tell him. "And take your fucking time. Take all damn night, actually."
28
Grace
Okay, so I ran. It was poor form, getting up and leaving in the middle of the night. I know that. But I really need my sleep and the two of you are insanely loud snorers, so I left. Have you thought about getting those nose strips?
I exhale heavily. Nope. That's definitely lame. Worst apology ever.
I take another deep breath. Just be honest. I can be honest. I was freaked out.
Who wouldn't be freaked out, anyway? I don't have sex for two years and my first foray back into dating – no, not dating, casual sex - is having two men come in my mouth. And on my ass. And bend me over in the bedroom…
Oh God. My face feels like it's on fire.
I'm not sure if Noah and Aiden even want to see me tonight, not after what happened at the campfire. But come on! Aiden and that wiener comment right in the middle of the campers and counselors? Someone could have put two-and-two together. It was far better to get out of there than to faint, which was probably what was about to happen next.
It's also the last night of the camp and we're leaving tomorrow. Even though Noah and Aiden and I are going right back to being neighbors, I'm feeling a sudden sense of urgency to apologize.
Or run back to my house and never see either of them again.
The rational, responsible part of me says I should do the latter. It would be safer, easier, and less complicated.
Yet I've been wandering around this house looking for the two of them and going over my explanation in my head. And now I'm standing here in front of the only door in this house that I haven't tried.
I take a deep breath and knock before pulling the door open. Noah is sitting in a deep leather chair in the corner of the… whatever this is. A library? A man cave? The room isn't as rustic as the rest of the house. In here, it's mostly mahogany and rich colors with books stacked in shelves from floor to ceiling. One corner of the room holds an immense wooden desk and another wing of the room holds a pool table.
I feel Noah's eyes on me. He makes no attempt to hide his gaze trailing down the length of my body, making me all too aware of the fact that I showered and changed out of the jeans and t-shirt that I wore earlier in the evening at the campfire. My reasoning was that the campfire made my hair smell like smoke, but that's not really the entire truth. At least, it doesn't explain why I changed into a dress – casual, black cotton, nothing fancy – and added mascara and a hint of lip-gloss.
"Impressed?" Noah asks.
“Mildly.”
"She does have a sense of humor, after all."
"I have a sense of humor," I protest. "Just not when it comes to…"
"Wieners?" Noah asks.
"Exactly."
"And staying the night?"
My face warms. "About that…"
"About that." Noah looks at me, his expression blank, except his eyes are intense, focused on me.
"I came down here to explain," I start. "Actually, I've been wandering around the house for a little while, looking for you and Aiden."
"Aiden's been gone for a…" Noah looks at his watch. "Couple of hours now."
"Oh."
"
He went out to the store. So he could be back here soon… or else in a few days we might find out he flew to Canada because he decided on a whim that he needed real maple syrup or Canadian beer."
I bite my lip to hide a smile. If I'd just met Aiden, I'd think Noah was trying to be possessive and keep Aiden out of the way, but that sounds exactly like something Aiden would do.
Noah crosses his arms. "So, you came down here to grovel?"
"Does this require groveling?"
Noah's gaze remains on my face for a long moment and I feel naked under his stare, heat rushing through me just like it did when I was with him and Aiden before. I squeeze my thighs together, thankful that I'm wearing a dress that hides the needy gesture.
"Fleeing in the middle of the night?" Noah asks. "I think a little groveling is in order."
He doesn't move. He just sits there in his chair, his legs spread, looking at me with hunger in his eyes. Even if I couldn't see the bulge in his pants, I'd be able to tell exactly what he wanted just from the expression on his face.
The thing is, it's what I want, too - at least until Scared Shitless Grace takes over my brain. When I forget about everything outside of this room, I'm certain this – with them - is what I want.
I cross the room, stopping when I'm standing between Noah's outstretched legs. But I don’t drop to my knees to grovel. It doesn't feel right somehow, not without Aiden here.
But not having Aiden here doesn't stop Noah from running his hands up the inside of my thighs, the warmth of his large palms radiating into my skin. It also doesn't keep my thighs from quivering in response to his light stroke, or my pussy from throbbing at the thought of him sliding his fingers up just a little more.
"I freaked out," I explain. It's not much of an explanation, though; it’s more like a statement of fact.
"Do you freak out a lot?"
Yes. About everything.
"Only when I have crazy sex with two men," I say, my voice light.
Noah's fingertips dig into my thighs as he narrows his eyes, and I swat at his hands. "Does that happen a lot?" he asks.
"It's happened once," I whisper as he pulls me down onto his lap, my knees on either side of him.
"It's going to happen again," he growls, his hand going to the nape of my neck as he takes my mouth. His kiss is punishing in its intensity, practically bruising as he demands my mouth, my tongue, and my everything. I'm dizzy and breathless when he pulls his lips from mine, his hands still on my cheeks. "You're not going to freak out this time, are you?"
I'm about to say that I don't see two men here, and so I'm not in present danger of having sex with two men, but Aiden chooses that exact moment to throw open the door to the library, carrying a bag. "Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he exclaims. “Is this seriously happening without me?"
Noah grins. "You snooze, you lose."
"Nothing happened," I protest, but I don't move from Noah's lap.
"Yeah, it did," Noah disagrees. "She groveled."
Aiden's brows go up.
"Not on my knees," I say quickly, imagining how Aiden pictures me groveling.
Aiden crosses his arms and gives me a stern look. "You should grovel. Because you ran off in the middle of the night, I had to feel up Noah's ass."
"Had to?" I ask.
"Quit using that as an excuse," Noah interrupts. "You were feeling up my ass because you wanted to."
Aiden shrugs. "It felt like a woman's."
"You're saying that Noah's ass feels like mine?" I ask. "Should I be insulted?"
"I have a great ass," Noah scoffs. "You should take it as a compliment."
"I think I remember seeing your ass, but I can't be sure. Maybe I should remind myself of what it looks like," I say, biting down on my lip as Noah growls and pulls me tighter onto his lap, grinding me against his hardness.
"I have more interesting things for you to check out," Noah says, his voice gravelly.
"So do I," Aiden interrupts, holding up a paper shopping bag.
Noah narrows his eyes. "Did you go to the liquor store? I thought you were getting flowers."
"Yeah, I brought tequila instead of flowers," Aiden scoffs. "Come on, give me some credit."
"Flowers?"
"To say we were sorry," Aiden explains. "Because we made you uncomfortable and shit at the campfire."
Now I cross my arms as I look at Noah. "You sent him to get flowers to apologize, but you made me grovel?"
"Yeah," Aiden says smugly. "I guess we know who the real gentleman is here."
"What you did wasn't remotely groveling," Noah corrects me, pushing my skirt up over my hips and gripping my bare ass with his hands. In the thirty seconds I'm preoccupied with what Noah is doing, Aiden somehow manages to strip off his clothes.
"Wow. That was fast," I observe.
"I'm sure that's what all the women say about him," Noah deadpans, and I slap his arm playfully.
"You can grovel over here if you'd like." Aiden waggles his eyebrows dramatically as he nods toward his hard cock.
Noah puts his hands on my forearms. "She doesn't have to grovel. She was freaked out before."
"No shit." Aiden walks over to the chair, proudly displaying his nakedness.
"And neither of you were freaked out?" I ask, not sure whether to be impressed or concerned by how blasé they are about this entire thing.
Of course, they have no reason not to be, right? They're not the ones whose father is in the middle of a re-election campaign. They're football players. It'll only add to their reputations to be fucking the President's daughter if it were to become public, but I'll be the punch line of locker room jokes for years. Fear should keep me from doing this.
"Of course I was," Noah insists. "I told you that dickhead grabbed my ass." He punctuates the statement by squeezing mine.
"I'd prefer not to repeat the snuggling experience again," Aiden says. "But everything that happened before that…"
"I'm cool with everything that happened before that," Noah echoes. His hands go to the sides of my dress and I don't stop him as he tugs it over my head. Fear takes a back seat to lust that overpowers everything else in the world.
As soon as the dress is gone, Aiden's hand is in my hair, pulling my head back as arousal and adrenaline course through my veins.
"Shouldn't we…" Shouldn't we talk about how crazy this is, or set some ground rules, or… not fucking do this?