Her Billionaires(74)

Laughter filled the restaurant as Josie plunked the rubber balls in front of Dylan and Mike and walked back to her friend, leaving Dylan with no appetite and a million questions. Go slow? How do you go slow after...

Madge waggled her eyebrows. “You boys ever need a third, you know where to come.”

Ewww. Dylan’s pants loosened instantly. “Uh —”

She threw an arm around the warlock waitress. “I meant him. Her. It.” A choking laugh carried down the aisle as she shouted back, “Sorry, boys. I’m taken.”



Laura hyperventilated in the bathroom stall. Calling it a stall was a bit of a stretch. Years ago, someone had removed the metal door and replaced it with a cheap shower curtain with an outline of an arm wielding a knife and red splotches. All that stood between her and the mess out there was Psycho. Nice.

Crying on the toilet felt like an accomplishment. Hell, just walking down the aisle into the bathroom was a victory, her legs shaking from nerves and anxiety and panic. If her heart rate was any indication of what those two men could do to her, she should be in an ambulance on the way to a cardiac center for immediate surgery to fix...to fix...

Whatever they’d broken in her heart.#p#分页标题#e#

This was not how she’d envisioned seeing them next. If at all. No, Laura. Stop it. She hadn’t even gotten to the point where she could think about whether she wanted to see them again after what they did to her. With her. In her...

Gah! Now motormouth Josie was out there spilling all her secrets. She knew Josie well enough to know what was happening out there, and that it was useless to try to stop her. The tongue lashing those two were getting from her friend—

OK. Bad choice of words. The nagging lecture Mike and Dylan were likely getting would turn them off her anyhow. She chuckled through the tears. Served them right. They knew each other? Were double-teaming her in every sense of the word? Had planned this big threesome night without telling her the little, trivial detail that oh! hai! I can haz menage?

And they were together? But not gay? Neither had touched the other—not once—during their lovemaking. So how did that work? It was complicated enough to figure out one guy’s needs, his wishes, his quirks and such. In a hetero relationship.

Two guys? Double the fun and double the trouble, and then the dynamic between them that would mean—what?— for her? If she were in some sort of permanent relationship with both men, would they always have sex together? Or would they pair off and rotate nights? Would it be like something out of Big Love but in reverse—with Laura the one they shared?

If she wanted to cuddle on the couch could she pick one and hang out, or would they always be three? Her head hurt and as she relaxed enough to pee she felt a stinging that took her by surprise. Oh. Yeah. That whole area was still sore from those two.

Who had lied to her.

Lied. Not told. Same thing.

Snot covered her face as she wiped her nose with the palm of her hand, misjudging how full her nose really was. Cheap, scratchy toilet paper cleaned her up but just made everything feel raw now. Would any part of her ever not feel raw, so shaky and vulnerable? As she finished up and washed her hands in the sink she found herself staring into the mirror, her eyes puffy and red from crying, the bloodshot whites in great contrast to the shiny color, the stained walls behind her covered in graffiti that probably extended back to Madge’s youth.

Big sigh. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale—just as the automatic air deodorizer pushed out a little spritz, filling her lungs with some God-awful fake Lily of the Valley scent that mixed with the stench of the bathroom and made her gag.

Great. Like this couldn’t get any worse. She fled the bathroom, gasping for fresh air, and the sight before her told her that why, yes, Laura. It could get worse.

Josie was whacking Dylan with a set of rubber balls.

Retreat! Retreat! Had they seen her? Ducking behind the coat rack, she crouched, feeling stupid and ridiculous. Mike sat down and introduced himself; she had a full view of the scene from behind someone’s cigarette-soaked tan barn coat. He shook Josie’s hand and then Josie yammered at him. From afar, the interaction was almost comical, Josie’s mosquito-like buzzing a stark contrast to Mike’s slow, steady existence. Dylan sat, cocky and comfortable, arms stretched out behind him across the top of the booth. Josie whacked him in the lap with the balls and Laura giggled. The way he folded in half told her it hurt.

Good.

Tears filled her eyes. Good? Jesus, Laura— Good? Now you’re wishing harm on him?

No. Not OK. Time to go out there and—what? Confront them? Confront yourself?