It was still early afternoon when I got home. Quinn wasn’t there, but I had three text messages and a missed call from him. I text him back, letting him know I was fine, before I changed and went for a run. Forty-five minutes and five miles later, I felt better; running always helped clear my mind. I had taken Dani’s advice to heart and was going to stop over-analyzing things. It happened, I couldn’t change it, and I sure as hell didn’t regret it, so I’d just remember it for what it was—a night of hot sex—and leave all the drama behind.

My plan worked until Quinn got home.

“Hey babe.” He put his keys on the table by the door. “Is your head feeling better?”

“What?” I said, a little confused, before remembering my white lie from earlier. “Oh yeah, I took a nap and it feels a lot better.”

Quinn came over and wrapped his arms around me, leaning over the couch and kissing my neck.

“I was a little sad when you left so quickly. I was hoping for a repeat,” he said playfully.

“Really?” I turned sideways on the couch to face him and turned down the TV.

“Yeah. I’ll admit I was pretty skeptical about the whole thing at first, but it was fucking awesome.” He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “I think we should do it again.”

“No,” I said a little faster and harder than I meant to. Quinn looked at me suspiciously, his eyebrows raised.

“It looked like you were having a pretty good time,” he shot back. “I thought you’d be all for it, since it was your idea in the first place.”

“I did have a good time … a great time actually.” I stood and walked around the couch, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my body against his. “But I also think it’s pretty awesome just the two of us.” I kissed him, hoping to distract him with the possibility of sex. He didn’t go for it, instead pulling away and walking to the window.

“Carson already said he’d do it again.”

“Really?” After the little tantrum he’d thrown, I was surprised he even wanted to see me again, let alone have another threesome.

“Yeah, he’s in whenever we want.”

“We’ll see.” I sat back down on the couch and turned the TV back up, signaling the end of our conversation. I didn’t want to give Quinn any sort of mixed signals or say something he might misconstrue as a yes. Quinn took the hint and wandered down the hall into our room.

I couldn’t believe Carson had agreed to do it again. Part of me wanted to call him right then and ask him what the fuck? Less than twelve hours ago he’d chastised me for fucking my husband, because he apparently thought he had some sort of claim on me, but now he was ready to do it all over again. It didn’t make any sense.

I thought about texting Dani, but I knew what she’d say. I tried not to think about it but every time I closed my eyes, I saw Carson’s mouth on me, his eyes burning with desire as he fucked me, the look on his face as he came in my mouth.

I bit my lip and leaned back on the couch, looking down the hall to see what Quinn was doing. The door to our bedroom was shut. I slouched down on the couch, spread my legs, pushed aside the fabric of my panties and shorts, and slid my fingers into the wetness. My head dropped back against the couch, and I let out a low moan as I used two fingers to circle my clit. All the memories of last night flooded back—the fire in Quinn’s eyes, the way he’d talked dirty to me, the way he’d screamed my name. The feeling of being pleasured in every possible way, over and over again. My toes curled as I felt my orgasm start to build, and I closed my eyes and let my fingers work their magic. Seconds later, I came, biting my lip to keep from moaning.

---

The next week passed in a blur. As a radio sportscaster, Quinn was busy gearing up for college football season, and Oregon was slated to be one of the top teams in the country again, meaning he was constantly driving to Eugene to do interviews, watch team practice, and meet new players. When he wasn’t going to Eugene, he was in Corvallis doing the same for Oregon State. I had barely seen him in the past five days, which was fine by me. Every time we talked, he dropped not-so-subtle hints about what, and who, he thought our weekend plans should involve. I tried my best to ignore him, but he was annoyingly persistent.

My week wasn’t any less busy than Quinn’s. As a designer for Nike, finalizing colors and patterns for the women’s winter line was how I spent my week. I’d gotten home after Quinn was in bed more than once. He produced an early morning radio show, which meant he often went to bed before ten.

By Friday afternoon, I finally had a few minutes of spare time and decided to call my mom. Every time we talked, she tried to convince me to move home. As nice as sunny California sounded, I loved Oregon. It was where I’d met Quinn, and I’d fallen in love with Portland and its quirky neighborhoods, not to mention I loved my job.

“Chloe!” My mom beamed through the phone when she answered.

“Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“I’m a little lonely down here in San Diego without my only daughter.”

“Oh … we’re starting on the guilt trip early this time?” I teased.

“You hush … I just miss you, that’s all. You haven’t been home since Christmas.”

“I know, Mom. Maybe once the new designs launch, I can come visit. Or you could come visit Quinn and me.” In the ten years I’d lived in Oregon, my parents had only visited three times.

“It’s cold and rainy there.” I imagined her dismissively waving her hand through the air.

“Maybe you can come for Thanksgiving,” I offered.

“Oh no, it’s your brothers turn to spend Thanksgiving with us, the twins will be here!” Her voice lit up at the mention of her grandbabies. My brother Derek and his wife Adrienne had two-year old twin boys, Max and Dylan.

“Speaking of babies,” She said. Oh lord, I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming next.

“No mom, I’m still not pregnant, not even trying. I still have my IUD in so a baby won’t be happening anytime soon.”

“You know after you turn 30...”

“Mom, drop it. I didn’t call so you could badger me about having babies.”

“How is Quinn?”

“He’s good—getting ready for football season. He’s been so busy.”

“Is he finally going to get on board with the rest of the family and support USC this year?”

“No way.”

“He’s not turning you into a Ducks fan, is he?”

“You know I couldn’t care less about football, Mom.”

“Are you happy, Chloe?” she asked suddenly. My mom was famous for abruptly changing the conversation and asking uncomfortable questions. The question threw me off, and I took a second longer than normal to answer.

“Yeah, Mom, of course I’m happy. Why would you ask that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just want to make sure my baby girl is taken care of.”

“I can take care of myself, but yes, I’m happy,” I said, then added, “Quinn and I are very happy.” I said it to reassure her as much as to convince myself. All the doubt and emotion from last weekend came crashing back, and suddenly I was worried about the whole situation all over again. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ve got a work meeting to get to.”

I needed to get off the phone before my mom, who I swear could’ve been an FBI interrogator in another life, caught on to the subtle change in my voice and started pestering me with questions.

“Okay, I love you. Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Love you.” I set my phone down on my desk, closed my eyes, and took several deep breaths. Just then, my phone pinged with a new text message.

Quinn: I love you babe. I'm sorry we haven't seen each other much this week. Can't wait to spend the weekend with you.

My heart melted a little. Just when I had begun worry that Quinn was mad and avoiding me, he reassured me, without even knowing my concern.

But I couldn't get Carson out of my head. I wanted to kiss him again, feel his hands and lips on my body … I wanted more of everything.

I shook my head to dispel the thoughts, and got back to work, excited to spend time with Quinn later.

I called Quinn from my car on the way home.

“Hey babe,” he answered.

“Hey, I’m just leaving work. Do you want me to stop and get some Chinese on the way home?”

“No, it’s all good. Carson is on his way over to watch the Marlins game. He said he’d bring pizza.”

“Oh, Carson is coming?” I didn’t try to hide the disappointment in my voice.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Well ... I was really looking forward to spending some time with just you, but I guess that’s fine. I brought some work stuff home with me; I can work in the bedroom and let you guys watch the game.”

“Okay, yeah, whatever you want,” Quinn said and I could tell by his response he was more interested in whatever was on TV than what I was saying.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you soon. I love you,” I said.

“Love you too,” Quinn mumbled. I hung up and swore under my breath. I was suddenly very irritated. What happened to him looking forward to spending the weekend with me? Jackass.

When I pulled into our apartment complex twenty minutes later, I noticed Carson’s Jeep was already parked along the curb.

“Great ... this should be fun,” I muttered to myself. With my head down, as I walked inside, replying to a work email on my phone, I almost bumped right into Carson, who was still waiting for the elevator, a pizza box in one hand. He grabbed my arm just before I crashed into him.

“Hey Chloe,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh, hey, sorry. Emailing my boss,” I said. His fingers were still wrapped around my arm when I looked up into his eyes. Big mistake. While his voice was calm and smooth, there was a storm raging behind his eyes, one that intensified when they met mine.

The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival and cutting our little moment short. Carson released me, his fingers skimming lightly down my arm as he did so. My skin tingled underneath his touch, my breath caught in my throat, and my pussy clenched at the contact. He turned and walked into the elevator, but I just stood there. What the fuck was wrong with me? All he said was hello and I was ready fuck him right there.

“Are you coming?” he said, his arm holding the doors open.

“Oh … yeah.” I stepped inside and leaned against the opposite wall, as far away from him as possible. Carson looked at me with an eyebrow raised. I bit my lip and turned away.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?” I responded without looking at him.

“Bite your lip like that.” His voice was husky and dripping with sexuality. I wanted to reply with some smartass comment, but being that close to Carson made it impossible to form a functional thought. “It makes me want to push you up against the wall and kiss the fuck out of you.”

That got my attention, but the connection between my brain and my mouth appeared to be broken. I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, and then out of habit bit my lip, then let it go when I remembered what Carson had just said.

He took a step toward me, before the elevator dinged again, letting us know we’d arrived on the fourth floor. Carson didn't say anything else; he just winked at me and walked off the elevator. I didn’t move—couldn’t move. I stood there long enough the elevator doors started to close, and I had to run to get off before it went back down.

“I am so fucked,” I mumbled to myself as I walked down the hallway to our apartment. How was I supposed to spend the next three hours with him?

I had managed to regain my composure by the time I reached the door to our apartment, which had been left open by Carson.

“Hey babe,” Quinn said. “Perfect timing, Carson just got here.”

“Oh, hey Carson,” I said, like we hadn’t just seen each other. Carson raised his already open beer at me and smiled as he grabbed a slice of pizza. Quinn walked across the room and planted a kiss on my lips. He pulled me close, lengthening the kiss as he ran his hand down my back. I could see Carson over his shoulder, staring at us. I pulled away from Quinn. I needed to get away from them and this uncomfortable situation.

“Let me change into something more comfortable,” I said and walked away. I closed the bedroom door behind me and stripped off my dress and heels. I put on some yoga pants and a T-shirt, and pulled my hair into a low knot, then took a few deep breaths and went back out into the kitchen.

In the few minutes I’d been gone, Quinn had turned the game on and both men were sitting on the couch, pizza and beer on the coffee table in front of them. Thank God … I wasn’t up for any awkward conversation.

I grabbed two slices of pizza and a beer and sat down at the kitchen table and listened to them yell at the TV. When my pizza was gone, I took my beer and excused myself to do some work, not that either of them noticed, let alone cared.

Three hours later, I was still working when Quinn knocked on the doorframe to our bedroom.

“What’s up?” I said, setting down the papers in my hands.

“Carson and I are going to grab some drinks at the Rusty Nail. Do you want to come?”

“Is the game over?” I hadn’t realized I’d been working for so long.

“No, but it’s a blowout and we’re bored.”

“I still have some work I need to get done before next week, so I’ll stay here and keep going. That way I won’t have to work tomorrow, and we can hang out.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. I could hear the disappointment in his voice and didn’t have to wonder what he was hoping would happen.

“Yeah, you guys go have fun.”

“All right,” he said, defeated. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”