Blair is frozen next to me. “He will have guessed. My mood changed.”
“He might put that down to a rumour he’ll have been told from my father.” I was certain that it would’ve been passed on.
She stands, shakes her head. “If it’s Franklyn…”
“If it’s Franklyn, it isn’t your fault.” Ben moves over to her and grasps her shoulders with his big hands. She looks small, but not fragile. “If it’s him there was nothing you could have done to stop him and you were right to trust him. You can’t live your life without trusting people, Blair.”
Her hands go around his waist and she holds onto him.
I watch, feeling like an outsider until Ben turns around and looks at me, holding out an arm.
I manage to fight the dizziness and get out of bed, aware of my half-dressed, slightly bloodied state, but it doesn’t matter as I’m wrapped in the two people I need most and that really is it.
It’s all I need.
Blair
We don’t leave him.
The plan had been to visit London, check on Isaac and then head back to Scotland, where Ben could hideaway. As long as the group Majken had been involved in thought he was dead, Micky wasn’t concerned about anyone targeting Ben. But Ben’s bored and feeling ineffective, which means he’s grumpy. And growly. And I still haven’t been speaking to him.
There are just the three of us in Isaac’s house. Security is outside – there’s no chance of ever being truly alone, but for now, here, it’s just us.
After the hug, we stumble back to the bed, making sure Isaac gets there without falling over. He looks pale and tired and I can tell he’s in pain, but it’s good to see him. I needed to see him.
The pain of finding Ben alive and with Isaac seems so slight now. I don’t know whether it’s because my mind has blacked out what I saw, turned it into some fading memory or whether relief at Ben being alive has erased the anger and hurt away.
I shouldn’t forgive them so easily. I should be stronger, keep them at bay because if I let them hold my heart again I won’t be able to take it back. I’d be ruined.
But I have. Forgiven them.
We sit on the bed, the three of us, making it seem small. Ben’s shoes have been kicked off and mine were lost when we came in as it was ingrained in me to not wear shoes on carpet . I’m in the middle of them, their heat encapsulating me. We’re laughing and talking about anything other than Franklyn and Isaac’s father or anything to do with running countries and states and treaties.
Even if this lasts just a few minutes, I feel like any woman my age, only instead of lying on a bed with one lover, there are two.
Our talking quietens. I know Isaac wants to ask more about the possibility of me being pregnant. I know it’s a possibility but I don’t think I am.
I want to be. I want to be someone’s mother, even if it’s a cruel thing because I’ll bring a child into a world of scrutiny and judgement.
Ben’s arm slips round my shoulders and I rest back against him. Isaac puts his hand on my thigh and I feel his fingers softly press into me.
Both of them. Here. Together. I thought Ben was dead; thought this wouldn’t happen again. My protector and my glue. I put my own hand on Isaac’s stomach, slipping it lower. Ben leans over and for the first time since New Year I taste his kiss. It’s light and tentative, as if he isn’t convinced I’m not going to bolt.
I feel Isaac behind me, moving more than he probably should. His lips go to my neck, soft kisses and gentle nips with his teeth that make every hair on my body stand on end and my nipples harden.
They work in tandem; loosening buttons, stripping me of my top, my bra, my jeans. I’m left exposed for them, just my knickers covering between my legs where I’m becoming wet and needy.
I sit up, Isaac behind me, my back resting against his chest. He plays with my breasts, teasing my nipples, offering them to Ben to suck, which he does.
I don’t try to fight for dominance. Today isn’t the time for that. I let them kiss and lick and bite; both men sharing my skin. My underwear is lost and Isaac uses his hands to spread my legs apart, exposing my cunt for Ben to see, uttering words about how it will feel for both of them.
I itch to be touched, to be brought to orgasm, but I don’t rush it. I want to savour this space in time, when nothing exists apart from this world inside this room and this feeling of just us. Isaac rubs a finger over my clit, down to my centre, teasing my opening. He gently pushes a finger inside me, slowly pumping once, twice and then removing his hand. He offers his finger for Ben, telling him to taste me, asking him if I’m still as sweet.
I’m transfixed as Ben takes Isaac’s hand, his knees either side of me so I’m sandwiched between the two of them, and sucks on his fingers, licking away every drop of me.
“Still sweet. Taste her yourself.”
I expect Ben to repeat the gesture, but instead he drops his head between my legs and starts to tongue at my entrance, Isaac still content to play with my breasts and watch Ben’s head. I’m close to coming when Ben moves away, leaning up over me, finding Isaac’s mouth with his and sharing a kiss that’s deep and slow.
