Leighanne stood on the stage, staring out into the crowd. The lights were close to blinding, but she could make out the shapes and sounds of a packed house. The space was large enough to hold a stage and a small area right in front for onlookers and dancing. The bar, with high-top tables and chairs was on the far side, near the entrance. Good planning that: see the bar first, get a drink, then go watch the show. But even the act of purchasing drinks didn’t stop the concertgoers from staring at her, expecting to be entertained. Every time she came up here to sing and play, she didn’t know how the hell she did it. It was like a different person or demon possessed her body and played the notes, sang the songs.

The band had already played a few songs, all covers, much to the delight of the crowd. They’d sung and clapped along, especially to the band’s fun reggae rendition of “99 Red Balloons,” which was pure silliness. They’d all been completely wasted when playing it that way the first time. But now the guys were looking at her. Waiting for her to make the announcement.

Original songs, lyrics by Leighanne Misra.

The words terrified her. She looked back at Roger. He wore a thin T-shirt, skinny jeans, much like the rest of her bandmates, and his dreads were held back with a rubber band. He raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. Waiting on her. They wouldn’t force her into it, but she’d be letting them down if she didn’t. Just like the past couple of times.

And now this time. Because, shit, she couldn’t do this. She really couldn’t. It was too hard to put herself out there, her heart and mind open and inviting all that awful criticism.

Leighanne shook her head at Roger rapidly, and he opened his mouth in annoyed shock. She turned to the microphone. “We will now take a fifteen-minute break, but don’t go anywhere. We’ll be back with some more awesome covers soon.”

Leighanne nearly choked.

She flipped the mic off. Without looking at her bandmates, she placed her guitar on the stand, then ran off the stage to the dressing rooms—or the storage closets that were used as dressing rooms. She shut the door behind her, not wanting them to bother her. She couldn’t withstand Roger’s disappointment again.

Tears were pooling in her eyes, the embarrassment and the nerves overcoming her in a way they never had before. She paced the tiny room, trying to get her anxieties under control. The knot of worry and fear of judgment grew into a hot stone inside her chest.

Covers were easy. She liked playing covers. Why couldn’t they keep doing that? Why did she have to have a million songs bubbling around her brain, waiting to be put on paper? It didn’t matter. She’d never have the courage to perform them in front of a crowd.

A knock on the door made her jump. “I don’t want to talk about it, guys. The songs aren’t ready for the public. I’m sorry. Take a break, and then we’ll start again.” She couldn’t look at any of them right then.

She kicked the wall. Pissed at herself.

The door opened, and she turned on it, intending to tell the guys off. They knew she needed time alone when her nerves held sway over her common sense. But it wasn’t the guys. At least not the guys from the band.

Mitch walked in, Armie behind him, his hand on Mitch’s shoulder for guidance. She’d invited them but hadn’t spotted them in the crowd so she’d assumed they hadn’t made it. She hadn’t seen them since leaving Mitch’s apartment the day before. Having them there sucked the air right out of her body.

Wearing jeans and long-sleeved T-shirts, as though they’d coordinated, the men both possessed a casual air of sex like a second skin. Cascading images of their naked bodies crowding her, making love to her, flooded her already agitated brain. They’d been out there watching her. Had they talked about her, maybe discussed what she was wearing? Did they like it? More importantly, did they like her singing?

“Hey, you in here?” Armie asked after a moment of silence. She rolled her eyes. Cheeky bastard. He knew she was there. She went to him, grabbing his hand and placing it against her cheek. “There you are, my sexy, talented lifeguard-janitor-rock star.”

She laughed, his playful presence a balm. “Here I am.” She went on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you for coming.”

His lips were chapped from the cold, but his tongue was warm against hers. It enticed her to keep kissing him, to wrap her arms around his neck and press her body against his.

“I can’t believe I’m making out with a rock star.” His lips remained against hers, his breath skimming her tongue as he spoke.

She smacked his arm playfully, loving his sense of humor. She turned to Mitch, intending to kiss him, but his knowing, indulgent smile made her pause.

“Didn’t you say something about some original songs?”

She nodded like the question didn’t add to her feeling of cowardice. “Yeah but we decided to hold off. The songs aren’t ready.”

“We decided?” Armie asked, rubbing her arm.

“The band and I.”

“Oh, so that wasn’t you running off the stage like someone caught shoplifting?” Mitch asked. “And that wasn’t your bandmates giving you the finger behind your back?”

“They gave me the finger?” She tried to sound outraged but deserved all their ire. “I had to pee really bad. Men have no understanding of the size of a woman’s bladder. And the lines at the bathrooms here get so long.”

Armie bent to kiss her ear. “Why don’t you want to sing your songs, babe?”

Mitch cupped her cheek. “Is it ’cause we’re here?”

She stumbled through a response, never wanting them to think that they were holding her back in any way. This was her thing to deal with. Her fear. She wouldn’t expect them to get it, but she tried. “No! I—just can’t. I wasn’t lying. Songs aren’t ready. I’m not ready. It’s not you. I really like that you came to support me. I can’t do it yet. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“No sorry. It’s okay.” With Armie at her side, Mitch leaned into her mouth, meeting her for a kiss. Leighanne sighed into it, letting herself drift away on a cloud of pure sensation. “You’re allowed to keep something for yourself, even if it does deprive the world of your awesomeness.” Her heart filled with warmth at his words, but she still doubted.

“You haven’t heard them. You don’t even know if you’ll like them.”

Armie snorted. “We know you. That’s all we need to know they’ll be great.” Like it was so simple.

A different kind warmth blanketed her body at that, their attraction and admiration for her fueling something new, something she shared for both of them.

She pulled them farther into the small room, shutting the door behind them with a kick. She tried to respect Mitch’s request for discretion, and anyway, this was for them only.

“Ever fuck a rock star?”

Armie chuckled. “I think we already did that.”

“How about in her dressing room?” She glanced at the wall clock. There were only ten minutes left in the break, but she didn’t think being late would be such a crime against music. Famous artists had done worse than make the audience wait because they were screwing.

“Don’t you have to be back out there?” Mitch asked.

She rubbed her hands up and down his shirt, enjoying the ridges of his muscles under the thin material. “I have something more important to take care of first.”

Armie leaned over to Mitch and whispered something in his ear. Mitch whispered something back, low enough she couldn’t make out what they were saying. They both turned to her, and holy Jesus she wanted to jump them right there. Armie took his sunglasses off, and even the opaqueness of his eyes looked darker, more intent and focused.

“Sit on the counter,” Armie said.

Mitch pointed to where they wanted her. She obliged quickly. There was liquid between her thighs, and her body was flushed. She wanted whatever they were about to do to her.

“Now what?”

“Spread your legs.” Armie loved giving commands. He loved the control, and Leighanne had to admit, she loved it too.

She did it, needing this. Needing them to carry her away, taking her choices and responsibility along with them.

“Lift up your skirt.”

The tone of Armie’s voice skimmed her thighs as she lifted the material up, bunching it around her waist. She wore lacy underwear. She’d put the tiny things on in the hopes they’d see it.

“Get on your knees, Mitch.”

He did as he was told, his eyes eager and cheeks flushed. Leighanne felt her heart beat faster, her breath coming in short. Mitch must be able to see how wet she was. She could feel the slipperiness, the slick heat inching past the seams of her underwear and onto her inner thighs.

He licked his lips, staring at the juncture. Oh yeah. He saw it.

“What does she look like?”

“She’s wearing black, lacy underwear. She’s wet. I’m not even touching her, but I can see her juices on her thighs. Fuck, baby, you need something badly, don’t you?”

“Yes. Now.” Her voice was jerky, nowhere near as smooth as Armie’s. But she didn’t need to be; that was his job. He didn’t disappoint.

“Push the lace to the side and put your mouth on her.”

She squirmed, shutting her eyes as Mitch’s fingers brushed her pussy, pushing the underwear over. But what almost sent her over the edge was Armie, placing his hand against Mitch’s cheek and moving with him as his head neared the heated, wet lips of her cunt. He watched in his own way. He followed the path of Mitch’s tongue, touching where the muscle went, sometimes not moving his fingers at all, just resting them against her labia, enjoying the quick flicks and long licks mixed with her juices. And she knew he enjoyed it because he told her with excruciating detail.

“That’s it. Lick her harder. I think she likes it rough. I love the feel of your tongue on my fingers. I can only imagine what she’s feeling. Baby, you’re dripping. I love how slick you are. Mitch, lick her clit. I want to hear her come. We’re going to make you come, love. We’re going to kiss these lips and bite and lick until you’re so wet you’ll have to go back out on that stage without any underwear. Maybe I’ll fuck you once Mitch is done. Your moans are killing my dick right now. I was hard when I first heard your beautiful voice on that stage but now, hearing your noises, I need to put my cock in you. Do you want that?”

Her heart nearly broke in two as he spoke of her singing, but now she was writhing against Mitch’s mouth, his tongue as deep inside her as he could go. She had both her feet on Mitch’s shoulders. She rolled her hips like a cock was inside her, rubbing herself against Mitch’s mouth as though in a dance.

“Mitch, I need to come. I’m gonna come on you.” She didn’t recognize her voice; the pitch was so high, matching the spindling tension in her womb.

“Stop, Mitch.”

Mitch moved away from her legs, and she nearly punched the two of them, until Armie knelt in front of her. He was slightly off center, and when Mitch tried to help him adjust, Armie batted the arm away and said in a hard voice, “I can do it.”

She glanced at Mitch. He didn’t look hurt, only concerned. Armie had never once asked them for help. He accepted it grudgingly when he knew he had no choice, but he never openly reached for it. What did he think would happen if he did? That he’d lose the tightly wound control he had over them, over himself? Leighanne didn’t want that completely, and she assumed Mitch didn’t either if the massive length pressing against his jeans was anything to go by. But she did want Armie to be comfortable, to be free of self-consciousness and to just let go around them.

Then Armie found her panties and pulled them down to her ankles. He trailed his hands back up her legs, his nails digging in enough to feel like beautiful, sinful bliss. He didn’t waste any time when his hands met her pussy again. He slipped two fingers inside her and began to fuck her as if he were using his cock. Only now he curved his fingers upward, rubbing against that weirdly erotic spot, that elusive spot she knew about in theory but had only ever felt when with these men.

Leighanne almost laughed. Of course she’d need two men to satisfy her completely. She was needy and greedy and completely shameless about it.

Her body began to ripple, and when she hovered, right there, unable to go over without something, Armie tongued her swollen clit. She broke. The dam pretty much exploded, and her body was now a rushing river, her cunt spilling the physical evidence of her lust onto Armie’s tongue, turning his face into a glistening mess.

The wave crested again when he pushed against that crazy fucking spot inside her, making her cry out. Despite the noise outside, someone would definitely hear that. Then Mitch was there, catching her moans, keeping the secret of their tryst. She was coming and felt amazing. Then why did his kiss seem a little underhanded? Why did it make her feel bad?

Mitch walked with Armie back to his car. It was dark, close to one in the morning, and they were alone on a side street. They’d arrived together that night, and Mitch was forced to park far away as the bar lot was full. Leighanne’s band was popular.

The wind picked up, and the sound of bare branches scratching against one another sent a chill down Mitch’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He clutched his cell phone in his pocket, his other arm wrapped around Armie. If anyone spotted them together like this, it would be easy to explain Armie’s need for touch to be guided.

“You okay?” Armie’s tone was careful like he could tell this walk was turning Mitch into a panicked wreck.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Lie. Such a damn lie. Even with Armie at his side, Mitch still felt freaked. Darkness in winter was his kryptonite, after all. He tried to push it away, focusing on the good company, keeping his voice light. “Leighanne has a beautiful voice.”

“Yeah, no matter what she’s doing.”

Mitch chuckled. Armie meant the sounds she made when they licked her together. He could still taste her in his mouth. They hadn’t done anything else after putting her back to rights. She was late getting back to the stage. The point of the thing was to relax her. She’d seemed spun so tight she’d been about to run out of the bar and never sing again. “That too. Do you think she’ll ever perform her own music?”

“I don’t know. It’s up to her. But maybe we can convince her to play her stuff for us. Get her to open up for a couple of songs, open that door so to speak.” Armie’s head came up, a smile on his lips. “Oh, you guys could come over to Ophi’s, and we could have a small, impromptu music thing. We could make it seem like she’s gonna play for the kids; then Ophi or Nettie can ask her, or even David. I think she’s known my sister’s baby daddy since before he moved in. Maybe he can convince her. What do you think?”

“That sounds fun.” They reached the car, and Mitch tugged on Armie’s arm to make him stop walking. “You should invite her over.”

Armie touched the car, then steered Mitch until his front was resting against the metal frame. Armie pushed his long cock against the seam of Mitch’s butt, reminding Mitch what it had been like to have that big thing in his ass. “Well you’d come too, of course.”

“Why?” Mitch grunted.

Armie opened the zipper to Mitch’s wool coat, then pushed his hand inside his pants, grabbing hold of Mitch’s dick. How could he still be so hard after all this time and then the terrifying walk? Mitch clutched the top of the car, thrusting into Armie’s hand.

“What do you mean why?” Armie dipped deeper, cupping Mitch’s balls and squeezing. “You know why.” He emphasized his point by tracing Mitch’s cock with his nails, then playing with the slit. I want you and Leighanne to be a part of my life, not just some dirty screwing in the dark.”

“Rather we fuck in public? You’re kinkier than I thought.” The orgasm Mitch had needed while licking Leighanne to climax rose. Armie pumped Mitch’s cock, rutting his own against Mitch’s ass.

“C’mon, baby.” The endearment tore at Mitch’s heart. “It’ll feel so good.” It already felt good. Lord, it was so damn good to feel that hand pumping him furiously. “You’ll love them.”

Them? Oh, his family. Was he serious with this shit? Armie was jerking him off while persuading him to meet his family. And they were outside. Exposed. There were houses on the next block. Anyone could drive by, or someone from the bar could walk out here to their car. What was Mitch thinking?

“Really, Armie.” Mitch pulled Armie’s hand away, gritting his teeth against the pain of a blocked orgasm. “I need discretion.” He pulled away, leaving Armie facing the car, then zipped his coat back up, pacing. “You were okay with that.”

“Your business deal is safe, Mitch.” Armie spoke to no one, just the car. He must know it, but he kept going. “No nosy townsperson is going to ruin it for you. I promise. I want to introduce you to my family.”

“I already know your family.”

“As some Good Samaritan who kicked Lyle’s ass, but not as my boyfriend.”

Mitch paused at the unfamiliar word. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Armie didn’t seem too embarrassed by the declaration.

“And what is Leighanne?”

“She’s our girlfriend.” It sounded so simple.

“How does this come so naturally to you?”

“Because I know I want you both. There are things in my life that I can’t have, but I can have you…if you want me.”

Mitch had to kiss him then. He turned Armie around and pressed his back against the car, taking over for the moment. They didn’t grind against each other, though their cocks touched through the fabric, and they didn’t battle one another for dominance. It was just a kiss. Pure and simple and fucking perfect.

Their problem was far from resolved. Mitch couldn’t let them tell anyone. Thinking about it made him sweat and his pulse race. He pushed that anxiety into the kiss, biting Armie’s bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth.

“I want you.”

Armie threaded his hand into Mitch’s hair and tugged. Hard. “Take me back to your place and show me.”

It wasn’t a hardship for Mitch to do that, and when Leighanne came by after the concert was good and done, curling up next to them after flinging her clothes around the room as if she already lived there, Mitch could almost believe that this was what normality might feel like. Almost.