He nods. “That is true. Can you blame me?”
“No. Grayson does need to be put in place. He got a little greedy with Caro’s pussy last night.”
Cas grins. “I think we all get a little greedy with Caroline’s hot little pussy.”
“There’s no lie there.” Just the thought of her naked, writhing as I sink inside her has my shorts tenting. Cas brushes his hand over my thigh, making the problem worse.
The four of us have been together twice now, and it’s been incredible. I don’t want to compare it to being alone with my husband, because they’re amazing for completely different reasons. But it has surprised me how much I enjoy having Grayson join us and it’s not just because I love to watch Caroline shattering at the hands of three men all working on pleasuring her together. Though I really do fucking love to see that.
It’s also because I like Grayson more than I expected to. He can be funny and charming and his love for Evelyn is palpable. I respect him. Being with the three of us is helping him relax, and I’m enjoying seeing that transformation. His shoulders aren’t so tense now and his apartment isn’t in a nationally declared state of emergency. He also is showering regularly, which is a good sign, even though like last night he showered with Caroline.
I’m a little jealous of their relationship. I haven’t admitted that to Cas. Definitely not to Caroline. We all agreed this was supposed to be temporary. Just a little very-fucking-hot fun between four adults.
Only it doesn’t feel that way to me.
I’m catching feelings for Caro. Or maybe feelings I’ve always had are just reigniting. I don’t know. I just know that spending time with her, in and out of bed, makes me really damn happy.
But I need to talk to my husband about it. I don’t hide anything from him. Though he knows me well enough that he probably already suspects it.
And will help me through my disappointment when she jets off to her next teaching assignment.
Or when she and Grayson decide they want to be an exclusive couple and our foursome is finished.
I have nothing to base that on.
But it’s in the back of my mind.
If that does happen, I have the world’s most supportive husband and an adorable baby, who we’re raising in my hometown surrounded by friends and family, so it’s all good.
Better than good. It’s fucking amazing.
I lace my fingers through Cas’s. “Better hold your hand while you still have five fingers,” I tell him.
He laughs. “I’m going to dazzle you with my skills—watch.”
There are long tables set up under half a dozen tents with all the food on display, but they’ve cleared one off for this friendly competition.
“Points off if there’s salt left in the oyster!” Sam Reed yells out.
The elderly man is wearing a button that declares “JUDGE” on it.
“Where the hell did he get that button?” I ask, amused.
“Oh, he got it online about five years ago,” Camille, who I went to high school with, says, standing by the table eating from a paper cup filled with fruit. “I think he carries it around in his beach bag, just in case he needs it.”
“That is very Honeysuckle Harbor.” I scan the crowd standing around. “Who is competing?”
“Ford, Harrison, Grayson, your Cas.” She gestures to my husband, who gives her a little bow with a smile. “Fiona, John Beauregard, Bud Hawkins, Mary Eunice.”
“You can still change your mind,” I tell Cas, even knowing he will sever an artery before he gives up.
“Fuck that.”
“Yeah. Fuck that!” Camille says with a grin.
A hand comes out of nowhere and slaps her arm, causing her to drop a grape. “Watch your mouth, Camille.”
It’s her grandmother, who is in her seventies and still as feisty as I remember from childhood.
