The recreation Pavillon Français stood in a secluded, quiet part of the compound. It was far enough from the main house that driving was the most comfortable option, and to get there, a person had to know the way. For instance, they would have to know to ignore the posted warnings about high voltage this and utility that.
Neil thought of everything.
While I’d once thought of it as a completely useless, wasteful little structure—we’d even talked about tearing it down—Neil had transformed it into a decadent retreat as a wedding present. Like the real building on the grounds of Versailles, our Pavillon was made of one octagonal center room, surrounded by four “cabinets”, smaller rooms that Neil had dedicated to all sorts of wonderful perversions. We entered the large center room directly—a deviation from the original design—and Neil locked the door behind us. Though each long window and French door was equipped with blackout curtains, they were all wide open, with just the gauzy sheers drifting in the central air—another deviation from Marie Antoinette’s plans, though I knew, for sure, she would have been into it if it had been around in the eighteenth century.
“I’ve never been inside when it’s been so light,” El-Mudad mused, crossing the gold and black sunburst design in the marble floor. He went to a window and pushed the curtain back. “And no one will see in?”
“If they ever have, they haven’t complained,” Neil said, strolling the perimeter of the room, hands in his pockets.
El-Mudad grinned. “Who would complain?”
“It’s very private back here,” I reassured him. “I wouldn’t be comfortable at all if it wasn’t. Especially since my mom lives on the property.”
“What do you think tonight?” Neil asked, nodding toward one set of double doors. “What are we in the mood for?”
There were three options: the bedroom, the bathroom, or the machine room. The fourth was a comfort room, stocked with all the aftercare essentials that might be needed after a session. No sexy shenanigans happened in there.
El-Mudad considered. “Perhaps…no games tonight.”
Neil’s eyebrows rose.
In answer to his unspoken question, El-Mudad went on, “No orders. No dominance. Just the three of us, this time.”
“I’d like that,” I said, looking to Neil nervously. “And…protection?”
“I’ve only been with you.” El-Mudad nodded to us. “And you?”
“I was with Gena in March, but I did get tested,” I told him. “But I’m fine with whatever makes the two of you comfortable. Neil?”
“If it’s down to me, I vote no on condoms,” he joked. He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me in sharply. I gasped and laughed as he dragged me up on my toes. He teased my earlobe with his teeth and growled, “I love the way you feel. And I know he does, too.”
“Very much,” El-Mudad confirmed.
Conversations like this hadn’t always been easy for me. Even after my first fling with Neil all those years ago, something about the mechanics of safe sex discussions felt clumsy to me. Maybe because every guy claimed “I’m clean, I swear,” and “Come on, you can trust me.” The fact that I could actually trust Neil and El-Mudad went a long way.
“And birth control?” El-Mudad asked.
“Taken care of.” I loved my IUD. The installation had been well worth the benefits. Even though Neil had been through chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant, we both had this irrational fear that some statistical anomaly would strike us. It had before.
El-Mudad’s eyebrows rose. “Well, then, we seem to be of the same mind.”
“So it seems.” Neil’s hands drifted up my sides then to the buttons of my blouse. He popped one, and another, and another, until the top was loose enough for El-Mudad to push the fabric off one of my shoulders. He bent his head and kissed every inch of skin as he exposed it.
“Shall we go to the bedroom?” Neil’s voice was low, hungry. He wouldn’t have been able to stick to a game if he’d tried.
Without any further warning, El-Mudad swept me into his arms and off my feet, slinging me over his shoulder like a caveman. Which was both adorable and disorienting. I shrieked and giggled, watching the floor pass by with each bouncing step. We entered the bedroom, and he set me on my feet, again. Somewhere on the walk, Neil had lost his shirt.
Yeah, way too eager today for any rules or games.
Neil had done the bedroom in baroque splendor, right down to the gilt-framed mirrors on the ceiling. The bed filled most of the room; mounded with pillows and a duvet so fluffy and thick it could have been a mattress of its own, the scrollwork headboard dotted here and there with anchor points for restraints and a built-in set of gold-plated shackles, it was the ultimate testament to our dedication to pleasure and pain.
A large wardrobe held our various toys, and Neil went to it and threw the doors open wide. “Anything from the trolley?” he joked.
El-Mudad kissed my forehead and left me to join Neil. He looked over the offerings with an amused tilt to his lips. “There are so many choices.”
“We have a whole week,” I reminded him. “Can I use the blue vibrator?”
“You can do whatever you’d like,” Neil said. It was strange to be in this space and not need to ask permission. He located the one I liked—a clitoral vibrator with a bulbous head and scoop-shaped handle—and handed it to me, then selected a medium-sized glass plug.
“Is that for you, or Sophie?” El-Mudad asked, running his fingers down Neil’s bare spine.
“I was hoping you’d fuck me,” Neil suggested. “While I’m fucking Sophie, perhaps?”
Unbelievably, we’d never done that before. I’d had them both at the same time. It seemed only fair that Neil should get the same experience. My nipples hardened, and I pressed my thighs together. “Oh, yes. Let’s do that,” I breathed.
I had way too many clothes on. All of us did. Neil tossed the plug, a bottle of silicone lube, and some wet wipes onto the bed then reached for El-Mudad. They kissed, their hands flashing between them. Neil fumbled with El-Mudad’s buttons while El-Mudad swiftly unbuckled Neil’s belt. El-Mudad pushed a hand into Neil’s pants, and Neil groaned.
I lost my blouse and my jeans, and when I stood there in my strappy black bra and matching thong, El-Mudad broke his mouth from Neil’s to look at me. “Come here.”
I shook my head. “No. I want to watch you two for a little while.”
The truth was, I loved watching Neil with another partner. It gave me a perspective I didn’t get when it was just us together. Occasionally, we recorded ourselves, but somehow, it wasn’t the same. And when he was with El-Mudad, it was different. Neil had a different way of moving, of touching when he was with a man. I watched with fascination as his mouth worked across El-Mudad’s jaw, and the way he responded to El-Mudad’s hand stroking him.
“I want to suck your cock,” Neil murmured against El-Mudad’s neck, softly biting to punctuate the sentence.
“Yes, please!” I squeaked, clapping my hands a little before I could stop myself.
They laughed and moved to the bed, and I joined them, lying beside El-Mudad as he situated himself on the pillows. From my position, I could look down his body, to where his erection strained against his fly. Neil’s hands moved to the zipper and pulled it down slowly. El-Mudad was totally commando underneath, and I gasped in delight.
“Did you miss it?” he teased, reaching out to run a finger down the line of my bra strap. “Take this off.”
I sat up and swung my hair over my shoulder. El-Mudad’s eyes followed my hands as I reached to unhook the bra, so I took my time slowly sliding it down my arms. The air conditioning made the room cool, but the goose bumps across my flesh, the tightening of my nipples had nothing to do with the temperature.
I lay beside El-Mudad, again, leaning all my bare skin against his. Having been apart for so long, his body should have been unfamiliar. Instead, he was like returning home after a long trip. He felt right beside me. He felt like he’d been missing.
Neil trailed kisses down El-Mudad’s stomach, the ridges of muscle there tensing with anticipation. I didn’t know what I wanted to watch more, Neil’s steady progress or El-Mudad’s reactions to it. My legs shifted restlessly on the duvet, and El-Mudad’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, urging me closer.
“Kiss me, Sophie,” he whispered, and I did, just in time to capture his moan as Neil reached his destination. El-Mudad’s hips rose, his fingers dug into my skin.
I lifted my head so I could watch Neil, hoping I could pick up some pointers. He’d told me more than once that, while my oral skills were great, “there are few things I enjoy more than a blowjob from someone who has a penis.”
I’d been offended the first time he’d said that, but after I’d had Gena go down on me, I’d totally understood what he’d meant.
Still, I took copious mental notes while I watched. Or tried to. It was difficult to concentrate on technique when there was so much to look at. Like the way El-Mudad’s hips writhed, and the glistening saliva on his shaft as Neil slowly lifted his head, leaving just the tip encircled by his lips.
I reached between my legs and plunged two fingers into my cunt. I was hot and sticky and wet and achingly empty. Watching El-Mudad’s cock disappearing down Neil’s throat made my own parch; I wanted to slake my thirst with the perspiration rising on El-Mudad’s ribs.
I was so focused on his body I didn’t notice the way he’d focused on me. “Sophie…let me taste you.”
I brought my fingers to his mouth. He swirled his tongue around them and sucked rhythmically, and I wondered if he mimicked what Neil did to his cock. The thought made my thighs squeeze together.
“If you want a taste…” I climbed onto my knees to straddle his face, turning myself so I could still watch Neil. El-Mudad’s hands went to my hips to pull me down. I moaned at the first touch of his mouth, and Neil glanced up. Our eyes met, and the heat already scorching my body from the inside intensified. I knew he loved giving me pleasure, getting me off, but seeing him do it for someone else was almost more erotic than having it done to me.
And this could be us—the three of us—all the time.
The emotion that welled in my chest was something between wonder and lust. Was wonderlust a thing?
El-Mudad’s tongue slid up and down my clit, pausing to delve into my pussy, every now and then. His vocal responses to Neil’s attention vibrated through my pelvis.
“Whatever you just did, do it, again,” I panted. “Both of you.”
The corners of Neil’s eyes crinkled. He would have been smiling, if his mouth hadn’t been so busy with other things.
El-Mudad pushed me up, breathing heavy. “No, don’t do it, again, or I’ll come before we even get started,” he protested. He slapped my ass playfully. “Get off.”
“I was trying to,” I whined.
“Neil could take over,” El-Mudad suggested.
I fell onto my back and spread my legs wide.
“That’s quite the invitation.” Neil still stroked El-Mudad’s erection. He released him to situate himself between my legs.
El-Mudad sat up, and I frowned. “What are you going to do?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he crawled to the end of the bed and held up the plug.
Oh. Yes.
Some of my turn-ons surprised me. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me that I would like seeing any man, let alone my husband, getting fucked by another man. Now, it was one of the most erotic things I fantasized about. Watching that fantasy play out in front of my eyes, where I could participate? Perfection.
Neil parted me with his thumbs and gave me a long, teasing lick that barely exerted any pressure. I whined and lifted my hips, which only made him do it, again.
“Come on,” I begged, rocking against his face. “He got me so close.”
“I feel as though I’m doing quite a bit more work here than the two of you,” Neil pretended to grumble. “At least, my jaw does.”
“Stop complaining.” El-Mudad gave Neil a light slap on his behind, and my eyes went wide in delighted shock. Seeing Neil reprimanded during sex was like seeing a unicorn or something. Seeing him comply with an order was just as rare.
“You look very pleased about something,” he said, but before I could find a smart answer, he bent his head and dove right in. No teasing, no warm-up, just his mouth fixed directly on my aching clit and his tongue flicking in a maddening pattern.
El-Mudad reached for the lube, and I fought to keep my eyes open, though all I wanted to do was give up and lose myself in the warm, wet pleasure of Neil’s mouth. I squirmed my hips a little in Neil’s grasp as I watched El-Mudad drizzle the lube into his cupped hand. He used so much, I hoped we had another bottle. But as Neil always said, better too much than too little, where anal was concerned.
Neil moaned against me at the touch of El-Mudad’s hand. I nudged Neil with my knee when it appeared he’d become too preoccupied.
“Hey.” I snapped my fingers in front of Neil’s face. “Concentrate.”
“Oh, because you exhibit such intense focus when I’m fingering your ass,” he shot back. A shiver ran through him, and he let out a long exhale.
I reached down and ran my hand through the silvery strands of his hair. “I do concentrate. On the fingering.”
“Exactly.” But he dropped his head, again, and got back to work.
This kind of sex—playful, casual, almost conversational—was so different from what I usually engaged in with Neil. Not that I didn’t love the intensity and challenge of our Dom/sub relationship. Our sex life was fulfilling in ways I’d never experienced with other partners. But this kind of sex? This no commands, just good feelings time? I could get behind more of this.
Of course, I would still need my Sir. I would still need that dark warning tone in Neil’s voice and the sharp red edge of pain that I craved. But there was room in my sex life for both.
“Ready for another?” El-Mudad asked.
Neil paused to tell him, “Yes.”
My cunt squeezed tight. The muscles in El-Mudad’s arm tensed and rippled as his fingers slowly penetrated Neil’s ass, and I could imagine the same steady plunging and twisting motion in my own body.
I wished I could know what Neil felt, not just physically, but emotionally. He wasn’t used to this, to not being in control. Even when we weren’t playing our roles, I found myself letting him lead the way. Would he be able to commit to this regularly? Would there come a time when he’d tire of not being in charge?
That was a worry for another time. I added it to my mental list of concerns we would discuss at the end of the week and banished it from my mind. Right now, my job was to feel.
Even distracted, Neil was one of the best oral partners I’d ever had. His tongue swept from side-to-side, relentlessly stimulating the most sensitive spots on my clit. I found my hands kneading the bedding beneath me in the same rhythmic contractions my pussy made.
“Yes,” I breathed, an answer without a question. A single word of permission granted. Yes, make me feel this way. Yes, give me everything. Make me come. Make me wish I could stop coming.
My thighs clamped around his head, and my pelvis lifted up. My orgasm started in my toes, crept up like vines that bound my muscles in delicious tension. My fingertips tingled. I saw stars. I was almost there when I heard El-Mudad say, “And another,” and just the thought of his three long fingers stretching Neil’s ass was enough to push me into the mindless spiral of pleasure my body strove for. I cried out and rode Neil’s face, while he muffled his pained groan with my flesh.
Neil was never content with simply making me come. He liked to torment me after, continuing to suck and nibble and lick while I tried desperately to escape. He didn’t make tonight an exception.
“Please, please,” I panted, trying to push his head away. But my strength was sapped from the intensity of the sensation that went on and on.
“Are you going to come, again, Sophie?” El-Mudad asked, almost antagonizing, as if he dared me to.
I didn’t have to speak my answer. It came out as a long, shuddering vocalization as a second smaller climax swept me up.
“Would you like to put the plug in?” he asked, and it took me a moment to understand him over the throbbing of the blood rushing through my ears.
Neil rose up on his elbows. “Oh, um. That isn’t something…”
That isn’t something that we do. As far as I could remember, I’d never engaged in any sort of ass play with Neil. He’d bought a strap-on with the intention of, someday, teaching me to fuck him with it, but we’d just never done it.
“If you don’t want me to, that’s fine,” I told him, though secretly I did kind of want to. “I don’t really know how.”
“I’m sure he can teach you,” Neil said with a reassuring, albeit nervous, smile. “If you’d like.”
I kicked my leg over his head so fast I almost decapitated him and scrambled on my hands and knees to El-Mudad’s side.
“You only had to ask.” Neil laughed, a little bashfully.
“I didn’t think it would be very submissive.”
“We could find a way to make it so,” El-Mudad promised. He took a wipe from the container and cleaned his hand. Then, he gave me the lube and the plug. “I look forward to teaching you.”
Oh, god.
I set a mental reminder to fantasize about that later. Right now, I needed to pay attention to the lesson at hand. I drizzled the lube onto the glass plug; it was more difficult than I anticipated to actually get some to stay on the thing.
“So, do I just…” I paused, my face scrunched up in consternation. It seemed so…personal. Did I just…
“Go slowly,” Neil advised, his apprehension obvious.
Okay. He’d done this to me like, a million times. I could totally do it to him.
El-Mudad laughed. “Sophie, you’re trembling.”
“Sorry, I’m just—” I made a frustrated noise.
“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He put his arm around me, still laughing. “Here. We’ll do it together.”
I let him take my hand and guide me. I expected the lube and the glass—and El-Mudad’s earlier attention—to let the plug just glide in. I was surprised at how much pressure it actually took. Neil’s back stiffened as the widest part entered him, then relaxed once it was in place.
As sexually open as I considered myself, I wasn’t sure how to feel about what I’d done. It seemed too much of a role reversal, the intimacy uncomfortable and unwieldy. It had been a very long time since Neil and I had done anything that would require further emotional examination, and already, I had creeping dread over whether or not I would feel what I deemed the “right” feelings. And I had no idea yet what Neil’s take on this new sexual horizon was.
Oh, there were going to be so many conversations.
But for now, there was a lot of sex to be had, and it required the right frame of mind. I was used to being submissive, pleasing and wanting to please. I had to find a way to get there if I was going to get off.
“All right, Sophie. Get on your knees,” El-Mudad said. Whether he’d meant to satisfy my need for submission or not, it worked. I did as I was told, bracing myself on my hands and swaying back, my breath held for the moment I would feel the head of him pressed against my cunt.
Neil rose on his knees in front of me, and my mouth fell open to automatically take him in. Precum leaked from the head of his cock. I swirled my tongue through it then licked my lips, holding his gaze as I did so. He reached down and cupped my cheek then slid his hand over my jaw and into my hair. That little touch of roughness thrilled through me. I opened my mouth and let him guide my lips over him with the gentle pressure of his hand tangled in my hair. I’d no sooner taken as much of his length as I could when El-Mudad gently parted me with the head of his cock and pushed into me, steady and unhurried.
I moaned around Neil’s thick erection and clenched down on El-Mudad’s. He leaned over my back and whispered, “Touch yourself. I want to feel you come.”
Keeping my balance was a little difficult, but I managed to stay in position while I rubbed my clit with the tips of my fingers. Neil’s hand rested heavy on the back of my head as he fucked my mouth, far enough into my throat to make me gag with each thrust. I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain and the humiliation. A long string of drool hit my chin, and that base denigration was the final spark I needed. I pushed back on El-Mudad, my cry trapped in my mouth by Neil’s cock, pushed deep, choking me. He held my head down firmly, never letting up until my strangled screams and violent trembling subsided.
Before my brain could recover, El-Mudad pulled out of me. Neil did the same, hauling me up and dropping me onto my back. He covered my body, my limp legs falling open for him to settle between. He had to force his cock into me; my satiated cunt was so swollen that it resisted involuntarily.
El-Mudad positioned himself between our legs and smoothed his hands down Neil’s back. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Neil pressed his forehead to mine, and his grip on my hands tightened. “God, I can’t wait.”
My lungs pumped oxygen overtime.
Neil took a deep breath then winced.
“Relax.” I giggled and rolled my hips beneath him. “That’s what you always tell me.”
He kissed me, laughing against my mouth. “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking to me that way when I’m inside you.”
“Tell me when to move,” El-Mudad said, bending to kiss Neil’s shoulder.
“Any time you like,” Neil responded, and a shiver went through him. He withdrew a little from me, trapped between the two of us, and gasped in surprise.
“Do you need to stop?” I asked, disentangling my hands from his to reach up and touch his face.
“No, not at all,” he reassured me. “It’s just been a while.”
I knew pretty well what he was feeling; the pain that almost made me want to back out, the cold chills like electricity sparking over my skin. Neil throbbed inside me, grinding so deep I gasped in pain.
I widened my legs and pulled my knees up, letting him slip even deeper.
El-Mudad moved slowly, and I tried to match his rhythm while Neil struggled between us. I knew that feeling, too—the desperate indecision. Pull away? Push back? Being the one in the middle meant you didn’t have a lot to do but stay there and get fucked. El-Mudad’s thrusts moved Neil against me, all of us undulating in one continuous wave of sensation. It was as though El-Mudad fucked us both.
“Oh, god,” Neil gasped beside my ear.
I wrapped my hand around his head, pulling his mouth to my throat. “Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels—” His own guttural groan interrupted him.
“Did you like that?” El-Mudad asked Neil. From the way Neil gasped and bucked, I guessed that El-Mudad had done it, again. He stroked in and out of Neil’s ass with smooth rolls of his hips that rocked us on an endless loop. I closed my eyes and surrendered to it; there was no urgency, now, climbing and plateauing, climbing more, knowing I would arrive at the pleasure that bound the three of us in almost spiritual communion.
“I love you,” El-Mudad murmured, and we knew it was for the both of us. I slid my hand up Neil’s shoulder, down his back, for El-Mudad to cover it with his own.
Above us, our reflections writhed together in every angle the mirrors could capture. It took only a shift of my head to change the view, but everywhere I looked, I saw the tightly corded muscles of El-Mudad’s broad back, the flex of his butt with every thrust. I saw my legs spread wide beneath Neil, my hair spilled across the gleaming silk pillowcase like rivers of dark satin. El-Mudad dropped his head back, eyes closed, his rapturous expression captured in his reflection.
Neil twisted between us, every muscle strained as he reached the breaking point. He came with desperate intensity, throaty vocalizations exploding from him with every thrust of El-Mudad’s hips. With a wail of release louder than I’d ever heard from him, Neil rammed deep and dug his teeth into my shoulder.
My thighs trembled. Shocks exploded through me, racing faster and faster with every pulse that emptied him into me. I arched beneath him, grinding my clit against the base of his erection, and a burst of silky wetness between my labia slicked over us both. I tipped my head back with a long moan. Neil collapsed, barely braced over me on his elbows, and rasped, “Harder. Make yourself come,” to El-Mudad.
I doubted he needed much encouragement. His thrusts had already become erratic, and he seemed to be visibly struggling not to lose himself. Given permission to let go, he jerked Neil’s hips back with every thrust, forcing Neil’s still-throbbing cock to slide inside me. Neil whimpered and hissed at the overstimulation. El-Mudad came with a shout and slumped over Neil’s back, shuddering.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing. “I must move,” Neil said with a quiet laugh. “Or I fear I might crush my wife to death.”
El-Mudad chuckled, exhausted, and wiped his hands down his face. “Okay. I need just a moment to get over the head rush.”
Neil grimaced as El-Mudad withdrew, then let me up.
I rolled from beneath them and sat up. “I don’t have a head rush, so I’m going to go that way.” I pointed out the doors, to the bathroom. “I’ll start the shower.”
“We’ll be along,” Neil said. El-Mudad flopped onto the bed beside him, arms flung above his head in a perfect picture of satisfaction.
In the bathroom, I turned on the shower. I still had to fiddle with the taps to know which heads turned on where. Powerful jets were set into the wall in positions that were not meant to get me clean. Neither was the detachable showerhead meant for personal cleanliness. But it had a lot to do with the shackles on the wall.
I found the right lever for the large flat head that created a heavy rainfall in the center of the room and turned it on. When the temperature was just right, I stepped under the water and turned my face up, basking in the glow of the warming light.
“Look at that.”
I opened my eyes at the sound of Neil’s voice and sluiced water through my hair to hold it back. He and El-Mudad stood framed in the doors. That both of them were mine absolutely baffled me. How had I gotten so lucky?
“I am,” El-Mudad said with a grin as he looked up and down my body. “I’m committing every curve to memory.”
I shook my head, my sodden hair swinging behind me. “You guys are going to give me an inflated ego.”
Neil joined me in the spray, looping an arm around my waist. He kissed my forehead. “Then, you’ll have a spare.”
If we hadn’t been in the shower, I would have shoved him.
After we’d washed and dried ourselves, I padded back to the bed, my feet making wet little slaps on the floor. El-Mudad followed, a towel slung around his hips, and Neil came behind him a moment later, his hair still dripping and slicked back.
“I’m going to get a few bottles of water. Is there anything else we need?” he asked, looking between the two of us.
“Just the water,” El-Mudad said, but I piped up, “Can I have my fluffy robe?”
“Water, and a fluffy robe for Sophie,” Neil added to his list. “What about you, El-Mudad, would you like a fluffy robe?”
“There’s one with kitties, and one with stars,” I informed him, as if to further tempt him.
He pretended to consider. “No, but in the future, I would prefer the kitties.”
Neil laughed and left us, and I turned back the covers on the bed. “It’s way too early to sleep, but a little nap before dinner would be amazing.”
“I try to take a nap every day, if I can.” El-Mudad made an “after you” motion for me to get under the covers, and he joined me. “Having someone with me is a unique pleasure.”
I slid into the butter-soft sheets and fluffed up a mound of pillows behind me. I pushed the bolster to the end of the bed. El-Mudad went to bed alone, while Neil and I cuddled up every night? That wasn’t fair.
“Sometimes, naps make me feel guilty. Like I’m wasting my life or something.” I’d been struggling with that for a while, now. Losing someone reminds you of your mortality in the strangest ways.
“Waste a little on me?” His dark eyes were so earnest, so intensely focused on mine, my stomach fluttered.
It was all I could do to say, “All right.”
I snuggled into the crook of his arm and let him draw the covers over us. Neil came back with the water, my robe draped over his arm. He looked at me, burrowed down beneath the blankets, and said, “Why did I bother to bring this, then?”
Reaching for it, I sat up. “I’ll still put it on. I’m always cold.”
“I don’t understand women,” Neil said, to El-Mudad, not me. “Have you ever in your life met a woman who wasn’t constantly cold?”
“Should we put you between us, so you don’t freeze to death, Sophie?” El-Mudad teased.
I gave him a little push, and Neil protested, “No, no. She can’t have you all to herself.”
Neil laid back on the pillows and lifted his arm, and El-Mudad leaned against his chest. We lay in silence for a few moments, Neil running his fingers through El-Mudad’s hair, me with my face against his chest, breathing in his scent. He was becoming so familiar to me, now; there were details about him I’d forgotten I could remember.
I wanted to say something profound, to let them know what the moment meant to me. How it felt like we’d taken some first incredible step together, how it existed whether we wanted to acknowledge it or not.
Neil was so much more eloquent than I. “It seems as though we’ve arrived at the irreversible.”
El-Mudad and I both looked to him, and he went on, “Oh, we might believe we can keep this all to a timetable, but does it truly feel as though this isn’t going to happen between us?”
I giggled softly. “No, I wanted to say…”
“You think it’s already happened,” El-Mudad finished for me with a slow smile. “And why put off admitting that?”
“You guys?” I said, and paused for effect. “We didn’t even last a full week.”
****
We took El-Mudad to Ruby’s, a fun little waterside spot in South Hampton. The seafood was amazing and the atmosphere super casual, which was a nice change from the places we usually went. Plus, they had a band on Saturday nights.
“We stopped coming here for a while,” Neil noted grimly as we approached the door. He interrupted himself to thank El-Mudad for holding it for us, then continued, “Because I was avoiding bars.”
“But you’ll be all right tonight?” El-Mudad asked quietly, as though he were undecided whether or not it was his question to ask.
“Absolutely,” Neil agreed.
The hostess seated us at a table near the dance floor, and I clapped my hands a little in excitement. The band—a Billy Joel cover band, judging from their name and the fact they were playing “Big Shot” at the moment—had already started their set. The dinner crowd was already loosened up and absolutely full of Baby Boomers, which promised a good time. Something about receiving that AARP card made them restless. One pitcher of beer and they were ready to go wild, in the most entertaining ways.
“This is…” El-Mudad looked around with wide eyes and settled on, “lively.”
“Have you ever been in a restaurant that had prices on the menu?” I teased him.
“Get used to this,” Neil said, never looking up from his. “She loves to point out her humble roots, as though our nanny isn’t carrying around a Birkin as a diaper bag.”
“They hold everything!” I protested. And really, it wasn’t like it was the most expensive kind. “Besides, there’s no reason she can’t look stylish. She gets up with Olivia at night. It’s the least I can do.”
“Fair point,” Neil conceded with a laugh.
“For your information, Sophie,” El-Mudad said, his lips tilting into an amused smirk, “I do occasionally descend from my golden tower to mingle among the peasants.”
“Oh, shut up, both of you.” Honestly, if being in a committed relationship with the two of them meant being ganged up on like this…
I would still take it. Gladly.
“My only real complaint is the music tonight,” Neil said, pulling an exaggerated grimace. “I would rather saw both of my feet in half than listen to Billy Joel.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” El-Mudad said.
“The long way,” Neil emphasized.
After the waitress took our order, Neil excused himself to use the restroom. It was strangely awkward to be alone with El-Mudad, now, and it took me a second to realize why.
“You know, we haven’t been alone together since we talked about…” How was I supposed to even phrase it? “The three of us becoming an us.”
“It’s a bit strange,” he agreed. “But if we do decide to, as you say, become an ‘us’, then there will be times that we can’t all be together at once.”
“Like when I go to work on Monday,” I pointed out.
“Yes. I’m nervous about that.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“Well, I worry about how you might feel. That you might worry I’m trying to…”
“To steal Neil away?” I shook my head and looked down at the tabletop. “No. I could think a lot of things about you, but not that you would do that.”
“A lot of things?” He looked taken aback. “Should I be concerned?”
I tried to smile, but it faltered. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just… My only reservation is that you and Neil have more in common than you and I. And even he and I when I really tally it up. I’m worried I’ll feel left out. Or like a third wheel.”
El-Mudad considered silently, for long enough that I worried I might have offended him. Then, he said, “No. You and I share some very important things in common.”
My eyes watered, remembering. When Neil had been in the hospital after his suicide attempt, El-Mudad had told me his own story of a past lover—the one who’d inspired him to use the name Emir—who’d had a problem similar to Neil’s.
Their story hadn’t turned out as well.
“On the surface, we don’t have much in common,” he went on. “But those things you feel Neil and I share don’t bind us the way you believe they do. It was the last year that brought me to this point, to love you both the way I do.”
I thought back to that week he’d spent with me, the way he’d come to stand by me at the darkest time in my life. He’d told me he loved me, and he’d proved it in a hundred small ways. Reminding me to change my clothes, take a shower, eat a meal, care for myself when I didn’t care about myself. He’d pulled me back from the brink of my own crisis, and he’d been under no obligation to me or to Neil.
And he’d taken an enormous risk to get involved, after what he’d been through, himself. How had I not realized that before?
“You do, don’t you?” I asked, stunned. “You really do love us.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” He never took his eyes from mine. “I’m sincere in all things, Sophie. I don’t have the unkindness to hurt people for sport.”
“I would never have thought that of you.” I was just confused at how and when it had happened. “But I also never thought you would fall in love with us. Or that we would fall in love with you.”
My heart swelled. I loved him. Neil and I love him. How was that possible?
I’d been raised to believe that love was between two people, and anything outside of that was cheating. If you fell in love with another person, it was a problem—not a blessing. In a few short years, all of that had been turned upside down.
“If I had ever imagined it would turn out this way, perhaps I would have run,” he admitted, toying with the napkin rolled around his silverware. “This is a frightening prospect to me, Sophie. You worry about me having more in common with Neil, while I see you with him and think it isn’t possible to have that same connection with the two of you. But if I could change my feelings…I wouldn’t.”
“My, my, don’t we look tense?” Neil startled us both, and we looked up guiltily. But why? We hadn’t been discussing anything he couldn’t hear. This was as much his conversation as ours.
“Not tense,” I explained. “Just working some things out.”
“Sophie is afraid she might become a third wheel,” El-Mudad stated bluntly. “Because you and I share so many common interests.”
“Oh, I don’t think that would be a problem,” Neil said, as though it would be the easiest thing in the world for us all to trio up without someone being left behind. And while his easygoing dismissal might have been a little rose-tinted, it did make me feel better. Neil and I were married. Without flattering myself, I could say that I was one of the most important people in his life. It did seem a little silly to think he’d throw me over just because El-Mudad could talk about supercars with him. And El-Mudad and I cared about each other; he’d no sooner hurt me than I would hurt him.
“That’s what I said.” El-Mudad gave an easy shrug. “And there are still so many ways we must get to know each other.”
Ways that don’t involve tragedy, I finished for him mentally.
“Like dancing?” He inclined his head toward the dance floor, where a few couples danced—badly—to “Uptown Girl.”
“By all means,” Neil said, not bothering to hide his disgust.
I rolled my eyes. “That would be lovely. Even if this is a weird song to dance to.”
“Only Baby Boomers know how,” Neil joked.
“You’re a Baby Boomer,” I reminded him as El-Mudad helped me scoot my chair back. I took his hand as I stood and let him lead me to the floor.
“It isn’t a weird song to dance to,” he said, gesturing to some of the other couples on the floor.
“Yeah. If you pull out your very best wedding reception moves.” Still, I couldn’t complain about El-Mudad’s arm around my waist, pulling me into his body.
He took my hand and held it up like we were going to waltz or something. “Like this. Slow, quick, quick, slow, slow—”
My feet tangled; I was not a good dancer.
“You’ll get it,” he promised. “Trust me, there is a way to dance to any kind of music.”
“I had no idea you were so into dancing.” It was hard to concentrate on my feet and talk at the same time, so I had to let him drag me around quite a bit.
He didn’t seem to mind. Or even break a sweat. “You wanted to get to know me better. There’s something you didn’t know before.”
“I’m intrigued. What other fun little hobbies am I going to find out about?” I already knew about the cars and the kinky sex. Dancing was a surprise.
Without any warning, he spun me away from him, and my natural reaction was to go with the flow. Then, he jerked me back, and the skirt of my black floral print Diane Von Furstenberg dress flared out a little too much. I smoothed it down in a moment of panic. Standing on my tiptoes, I whispered into his ear. “Don’t do that, again. I’m not wearing panties.”
He pulled back to look me in the eye, shock on his features.
“You wanted to get to know me better,” I reminded him.
He laughed and leaned down to press his forehead against mine, swaying us both to the goofy beat. I glanced over at our table, where Neil watched us, grinning, despite his personal feelings about the music. It felt natural. It felt like…
Like we belonged together.
The overwhelming giddiness of new love rushed over me; I hadn’t felt it since Neil and I had started dating. It was like revisiting an old friend. I hadn’t felt this feeling in years, but it seemed like only yesterday. And I wasn’t the only one caught up in it, which made it even better.
How did people do this? I had no road map for being in love with two people at once and making a relationship out of it. But this felt so natural…if we just went with it, was that all it would take to make it work?
Should I just let my emotions drag me around, the way I was letting El-Mudad drag me around the dance floor? I hoped it would involve a lot less tripping and stepping on someone else’s toes.
“What about you?” El-Mudad asked. “Besides fashion and not wearing panties, what do you like?”
“Probably nothing that would impress you,” I admitted. “I don’t dance. I don’t drive expensive cars. I’m a trophy wife. I work more part-time than I should, shop too much, and sit around watching stupid TV shows.”
“All right,” he said with a bob of his head. “What kind of stupid TV shows?”
I highly doubted a guy who traveled the world and had all sorts of exciting experiences would be that acquainted with Netflix. I rolled my eyes and answered, “Once Upon A Time?”
“I know Once Upon A Time,” he said, almost admonishingly.
I laughed at him. “You do not.”
“Of course I do. Amal and Rashida watch some American television to improve their English. Or, at least, that’s their excuse.” He put both of his arms around my waist, no longer keeping up the rhythm of his now-battered feet. “I think they just have a crush on Captain Hook. We wait until the season is finished and watch it together on the weekends, so it will last longer.”
Admittedly, it surprised me that they knew about the show, living in France. I hadn’t realized our television had that kind of reach. But it was beyond enchanting to think of El-Mudad, mega-billionaire with male-model looks, sitting on a couch between two teen girls and consuming vast quantities of Disney fantasy. That gave me tummy flutters for sure. “Okay, so, thoughts on ships?”
“Captain Swan,” he said with a grimace of unwavering rightness.
I made a face. “Are you kidding? Emma and Regina. Swan Queen all the way.”
“You and Amal would get along,” he said confidently.
The song came to an end, and El-Mudad released me to clap for the band. I stood frozen in place. El-Mudad’s kids. Olivia. How would any of this work when they were all inextricable parts of our lives?
How could the three of us work when it would never truly be just the three of us?