All The Best Men

But instead, she’d broken down in tears after the session. With our semen still dribbling from her sweet spots, the female had broken down into tears and ordered us out. Not exactly what any guy wants to see.

“Fuck!” Kane raged again, stomping over the mini-bar. The alpha poured himself a generous dose and downed the fiery liquid in one gulp.

“Easy cowboy,” I grunted, sitting on the divan. “Self-medicating is good, but too much of that shit is dangerous.”

Kane nodded stiffly, eyes looking off into the distance. The three of us just sat in silence again, brooding, unsure what to do.

Because no woman has ever told us that she needs to “think about it.” What does that mean, even? What is there to think about? Any female of ours will have plenty, her closets overflowing, a fancy car to drive, whatever makes her happy.

But Katie was showing us exactly how different she is. Full of sass and fire, as well as genuine emotion, this girl was something special. Because usually, we make people wait for our decisions, and not the other way around. But Katie had us flummoxed, completely at a loss. Shit, this woman was squeezing our balls and wasn’t afraid to make it painful.

I scrubbed a hand over my face in exasperation.

“What now?” came my growl. Was I addressing Kane and Mason or simply venting frustration to the universe? Because what could we do? My brain was fried, fizzling with a flat zero. We went over there to win Katie over with a heartfelt apology and it didn’t work. Fuck me.

Mason slumped in a chair.

“I have no idea, bro,” he rasped, looking hopeless, suit rumpled. “No idea.”

We sat around the living room dejected. Surely, Katie realized how great things could be with the three of us. She’d seen that anything was possible with us on her side: a non-profit to run. Three men to make her shiver at night. Billionaires on call to do her bidding.

So what the fuck was missing?

What did she want?

Our souls?

Our hearts?

Our everything?

Fuck me.

Suddenly, clarity struck my brain like an electrical bolt. Resting my head against the back of the sofa, I began to laugh. Mason and Kane stared my way as if I’d lost my mind.

“We’re assholes,” I managed, still sputtering with laughter.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bro?” Mason growled, glaring.

“Spit it out,” Kane rumbled, looking like he wanted to punch me in the face.

Sitting forward and resting my elbows on my knees, I snorted once more.

“We’re still treating Katie like other woman we’ve fucked and tossed away.” I shook my head. “So what we promised her the non-profit? It’s just money. We did nothing special but offer her money and the services of our underlings, the bankers, the lawyers, the accountants. We haven’t offered her anything of ourselves.”

My bros were stupefied.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” grunted Mason. “The non-profit’s what she wanted.”

“Sure,” I said. “But don’t you see? Katie’s looking for something real. She wants more than just a flash in the pan. She wants more than just a visit here and there, us flying in to fuck her silly. She wants us. Three men committed to a relationship, giving her our souls.”

That was a wild one.

“What the fuck are you talking about, our souls?” asked Kane, a confused look in his eyes. “Have you been reading romance novels or something? That Fabio shit get to you?”

I laughed again. Shit, we were so behind. Our lifestyles had been depraved and brazen for so long that we’d lost touch with what it was like to truly love. What it was like to truly cherish a woman and make her happy, to place her interests before all else. Instead, we’d done what we always do. We’d swept in, fucked a female good, and then expected to buy our way out. Of course, it was dressed up this time with the feel-good vibes of the non-profit, but was it any different? Probably not.

“Listen,” I said urgently. “We made no promises. We’re giving nothing of ourselves. It’s just money again, it’s all about the cash.”

But my bros can be knuckleheads.

“What the hell, it’s all about the cash? It’s all about the kids, dude, we’re helping her do stuff for low-income kids,” reminded Kane.

I shook my head again, exasperated.

“For her, it’s about the kids. For us? Please, get real. We haven’t spent two seconds thinking about kids. You know that. I know that. She knows that. It’s all window dressing because we’re doing the same thing we’ve always done. Buying women off.”

And finally, it made some sense.

“Yeah, I guess,” acknowledged Mason. “That’s true, I wasn’t about to volunteer at the Ronald McDonald House or something.”

“So what?” asked Kane. “We do what we can. Some people give time, some people give money. I’m in the money group.”