"Oh, God," I whine with a grimace. At the same time, Ian asks, "Did you have to phrase it like that?" with an amused distaste.
"Shhhhh, my turn," Mitch says with a chuckle, placing fingers over our lips to shut us up. It is rather effective. "I've been insideboth of you emotionally and physically, and tonight, I want to bring you both…inside of me…together."
Mitch’s words hang in the air like a filthy dare, and the room spins as I attempt to process his request. Even through the odd way his beautiful, inebriated brain is putting together these absurd thoughts, it’s not hard to interpret what he means.
My heart skips a beat as the air in the room suddenly weighs down on my shoulders. A different kind of heat engulfs my body. A smothering heat that makes it hard to breathe and sends pools of sweat dripping down my back. Every ounce of arousal I was feeling a moment ago has disintegrated and morphed into pure, unadulterated anxiety.
"Mitch…now is not a good time for this," Ian says almost hesitantly as if they’ve already discussed it. “You’re drunk.”
My eyes dart between them, trying desperately to understand.Havethey already talked about this?
"Now is a great fucking time," Mitch replies with an exaggerated nod. “I know what I want, and I want both of you.” His voice is low, husky, and dripping with determination. “Also, I’ll have you both know that I am fully prepared to be insufferable about this until I get my way.”
I can’t help but let out a short nervous laugh as my heart stops dead in my chest, and I realize Mitch is dead fucking serious. When Mitch is serious, he always gets what he wants.
FOUR
Mitch's words linger in the air, thick and suffocating.
He wants both of us…at the same time?
Competing for Mitch’s time outside the bedroom was enough to have me contemplate running for the hills. The idea of competing for his attentioninthe bedroom, at the same time, is appalling.
“Wait,” Ian interjects, and I’m over the moon for him to be the one to take the lead in stopping this before it gets too far. “How would webothbe inside of you?” he asks, lost in thought, and my head snaps in his direction. He can’t be fucking serious. “Like, I understand my part, but like, how wouldshebe insideyou?” he adds, clearly more concerned about the logistics of Mitch’s drunk rambling than the actual request itself.
“Seriously,” I scoff, my voice laced with disbelief. “Logistics is the last thing on my mind right now,” I add, trying to bring Ian back to the reality of Mitch’s demands.
My heart breaks with the thought of letting Mitch down, especially after a week of blowing him off–and not the way he prefers to be blown. I turn my full attention back to Mitch, as I’m clearly the only level-headed person here, and I caress both of Mitch’s hands in mine.
“Mitch, Honey…I love you, but I don’t think—”
“You what?” Ian chokes out next to me, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.
“Yeah, you what?” Mitch repeats, pulling on my wrists to bring me closer to him.
My eyes widen as I open my mouth to deny it, but the thought of lying causes the words to stick in my throat. Panic explodes in my chest as Mitch’s body presses against mine, caging me against the kitchen counter.
Never in my life have I muttered those words out loud to anyone. How those three words left my lips so effortlessly is just as beautiful as it is terrifying.
“You love me?” Mitch asks when I don’t answer.
The corners of his lips perk up, and a spark of cautious hope overcomes me. I take a deep breath and clench my fists into nervous balls, my nails digging into my palms. I open and close my mouth without a single word reaching my lips.
What the fuck should I even say? I didn’t even know I was in love with him until now, but I feel the undeniable current—powerful, consuming, and far too deep to be mistaken for anything else. It's overwhelming, this sudden awareness, and I curse myself for being so blind.
Only I can look at a great lake and call it a pond.
In a panic, I look over at the front door, gauging the distance. If I booked it right now, would he follow? I could get to my car in less than a minute, no problem, and in Mitch’s drunken state, there is no way he’d be able to catch up.
“Hey, dumbass,” Mitch says, moving a hand to my chin and tilting my head back to him so that our eyes meet. “I love you too.”
The music, the laughter, andthe steady buzz of conversation all fall silent around me as his words sink in. I knew I was deprived of affection, but the way those three words punch me in the gut is pathetic.
“You do?” I ask like an idiot.
Pa-the-tic.
His grin grows wider, his breath fanning over my face, warm and inviting. “Of course I do. This was the worst week of my life. Roxy, I thought I lost you.”
