“I’m at the wrong house,” I repeat.
“What?” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a hearing aid. I wave both my hands.
“It’s fine, I’m sorry for bothering you.” I head for the stairs, only to hear the old woman grumble something about young people barging in.
That leaves downstairs. At the first-floor apartment, I knock on the door once again. I wait and wait, but there’s no answer.
That’s when I hear it, though—a woman’s voice. And she’s most definitely moaning in pleasure.
What the fuck is going on here?
There’s a heat rising in me as the sound grows louder. Deep down, I already know what I’m going to find. I turn the knob, and when it gives, I push open the door and step inside.
It’s definitely a woman’s voice, and now that I’m in the apartment, I can make out Arthur’s frantic groans, too. I don’t bother closing the door as I race into the living room, which looks normal, if a bit messy.
How did this happen? Who is she?
Now my heart is beating like a racehorse’s hooves on the track, wind roaring in my ears. They’ve been lying to me. They’ve been seeing a woman and making up stories about it.
My rage is blinding by the time I reach the room at the end of the hallway where all the sound originates. I shove open the door and inside is a massive bed, surrounded on all sides by professional lighting equipment.
The hell is this? A stage?
On the bed are Arthur and Bennett, my partners in life. Satyrs I never, ever could have believed would lie to me this way. They’re both on their knees, holding a plump, redheaded woman between them, Arthur inside her pussy and Bennett in her ass while they work together to hold her aloft.
Everything freezes when I storm into the room.
“Jack?” Arthur asks hoarsely. Immediately, both of them drop her. She falls to the bed, their cocks slipping out of her, and she yelps.
“Oh fuck,” Bennett says, scrambling to the edge of the bed while the woman does something on her nearby laptop. “Jack, it’s not?—”
I hold up a hand. “Don’t even say it.” My fury is so hot and bright that I can’t think straight. The world is tinted blood red, the pain in my soul just as acute as my anger.
I’m devastated that they would do this. That they would hide it from me.
Marilee all over again. But even worse this time. They are performing, obviously, for the camera at the foot of the bed.
Now both Arthur and Bennett are on their feet, reaching for their clothing on the floor. The woman on the bed watches me, her mouth twisted like she ate something sour. Red, curly hair billows down her shoulders, and her skin is pale and covered in freckles.
That’s when it hits me. The smell. Not just the scent of sex, but the scent of her.
I would know that smell anywhere after what happened in the breeding room.
“It’s you,” I breathe, approaching the bed. “You. You’re the surrogate. From DreamTogether.”
Ever so slowly, she nods. “I’m Bree.”
“I don’t give a fuck what your name is,” I hiss.
I have never been such a mass of warring emotions. I want to leap onto that bed, press her down to it, and fuck her like she’s never been fucked in her life. And yet, whatever bullshit kind of nonsense is going on here, I know she’s at the root of it.
“Jack,” Arthur says, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shove him away, enraged that he would try to touch me right now. “Please, you have to listen to us.”
“I don’t have to listen to shit.” I glare at both of them, my husbands, who once committed to me, who said pretty vows to me, all while they didn’t mean any of it. “You lied to me. I… I can’t believe you would both…”
The words stick in my throat as the hurt comes crashing down. Suddenly, I can’t breathe. I can’t take it. Spinning on my heel, I storm back out of the apartment the way I came in.
“Jack!” It’s Arthur, running after me. “Please, stop!”
