Edwin met my eyes as he said, “You know better now.”
“I do. I really do.” I finished with the towel and realised I didn’t know what to do with it. I hung it over the shower door. “I should find my underwear.”
Edwin opened the door for me and stood aside. I located my cum-coated boxers a second before Edwin pulled open a drawer and held out a pair of briefs. I pulled them on with a smile of thanks. “Want a shirt, shorts…?” He tailed off, perhaps picking up on the tension that was once again rising between us.
“I’m fine, thanks.” I couldn’t meet his gaze. The bedroom reeked of recent sexual activity, but for some reason, I had the feeling of being a spectator in the scene. This was Edwin’s space, the one he’d created as a safe haven for him and James. My clean and scented skin suddenly itched as though I’d been caught in a net. I was intruding on private property. Edwin was wrong; we should have talked first, not fucked.
I gathered up my galloping thoughts and threw a mental blanket over them.Shut up. You love James and you love Eddie. You want what’s best for both of them, always.
I met Edwin’s slightly puzzled expression with a calm smile on my face. “I promised James I’d make dinner tonight. Hopefully he’ll be hungry when he awakes.” With the last reserves of my composure, I added, “Although I’m pretty sure he’ll want to bang you into the middle of next year before food crosses his mind, so I’ll make something that can withstand some simmering.”
Edwin huffed. “Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of some restraint.”
A sigh escaped before I could muzzle it. “That’s my point. I don’t think this time you should be. I’m not saying you should dive onto the mattress and wake him up this second. More that James doesn’t always need to be on display while he fucks one of us, and we both know he’s gagging to take you apart. Trust in a threesome means actually trusting. I’m trusting you both to take what you need from each other without me looking over your shoulders.” I touched his arm lightly. “I’ll see you later.”
I escaped before he could realise just how tenuous a grip I had on my emotions.
48
EDWIN
Trace hadn’t been entirelyhonest with me.
I wasn’t sure how I knew, but he’d been almost too sincere about my spending time with James alone. No, not that precisely. I sensed he was absolutely certain that trust between us all had to change from what we’d previously agreed to a new format. It would and should strengthen the bonds we had as couples if we were all on the same page. I thought James would be. I knew it had cost him a lot to confess he’d been on the verge of fucking Trace at his place, but also how much their bond had grown if he felt comfortable to be alone with Trace for anything sexual.
I wanted that for him so much. He deserved to participate in as much sex as he wanted and could cope with physically. I hated how reserved and self-restricting he’d been, whilst totally understanding why. Fucking Cormack! I’d curse that bastard’s name until the end of time itself.
So, why did I believe Trace was hiding something? I wasn’t sure. On top of that, I had no idea what to do with my belief. It wasn’t as though I’d go storming around to his place to accuse him of holding back. He’d made it crystal clear he wanted some space.
Fuck! Relationships werehard.
I slipped into a pair of shorts, hooked Trace’s abandoned boxers off the floor with one finger, and left James to rest, bunging the underwear into the washing machine as I passed the kitchen. Then, for want of anything better to do, I sat at my desk and took out a drawing to complete. James wouldn’t sleep for long, maybe an hour. I would act like a damn adult and sit with my feelings until I either worked them out or was successful in shoving them into a metaphorical cupboard. I had a lot of practice in doing the latter, I thought as I selected a pencil. Not always the best course of action.
Let Trace have some space. Let James sleep.
I glared at the picture in front of me. I was too disregulated to be sure I wouldn’t mess it up. I took a new sheet of paper instead, and chose a different pencil. I’d work on something new.
A little over an hour later,I heard footsteps in the corridor, then the tap in the kitchen running. James appeared, clad in the same jeans he’d been wearing earlier, but nothing else. His hair was a tousled mess and he was chugging from a glass like he’d crossed the desert, but his eyes were clear and bright.
“Did Trace leave?”
“Yes. Said we all needed to start trusting each other to be in pairs as well as a three.” I forced a smirk. “Probably wanted to stretch out for a nap. You’re a bed hog, you know.”
He rolled his eyes in my direction, flopping into the armchair. “You’re so full of shit, Eddie. That’s the last thing I am. But yeah, he might have wanted to sleep for a bit. I didn’t go easy on him.”
Our eyes met. “I know you didn’t, baby,” I rasped, my cock springing to attention as the fresh memories slammed through my mind.
James’ gaze descended a fraction. “You want me, don’t you?” he grated out, sounding relieved and disbelieving in the same breath. I nodded. “I stink of Trace.”
“I know,” I croaked, lust making me swoon in my seat. “Believe me, I know.”
His eyes darkened. “You really like that idea, don’t you? Me fucking you after fucking him?” The disbelief was stronger, warring with the bulge in his jeans and the way his chest was heaving.
I nodded again.
“You really are a filthy fucker, Edwin Marsh.”
I held up my hands. “Guilty as charged.”
