He hefted his bags and carried them out near the front door, stacked one on top of the other. Game face, game face.
At least he had that thong of Vic’s to remember this by. Nothing of Britt’s… The things they’d done last night. Shit. It was definitely for the best to forget about that. He got a semi remembering, and God knew he couldn’t have the public finding out about that sort of thing–he’d be just another gay swimmer in their eyes. He didn’t want to be labeled as gay. Hell, he didn’t want to be gay. Had never wanted another man’s hands on him. Things had definitely gone too far on this little adventure. Good thing it was over. He wasn’t gay.
“Are you ready to eat?” Vic stood at the patio door, looking elegant and professional and hot as all fuck in some pale green designer pantsuit. It’d be soft, he knew. Everything she wore felt nice against the skin. Her eyes looked brighter green than usual, and she seemed pretty damn happy. Well, what else did he expect? She’d gotten what she came here for, and she obviously wasn’t feeling any regrets.
She hadn’t asked him to fall in love with her. He’d done that all on his own, like a moron.
Game face. He faked a smile.
When he reached her, she pressed herself against him, put her arms around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. He shouldn’t be kissing her–should be pulling himself back a little at a time–but it felt so right, warm and soft against him, she tasted so good. Maybe a little salty, or that could be him, tearing up like some lovesick kid. Fuck.
He broke the kiss and gave her ass a little squeeze, for extra manliness.
She smiled, took his hand, and led him to the table.
One more breakfast out in the sun.
Britt had dressed up, too, in a shirt and tie, the jacket hanging over the back of a chair. Jesus, he felt like the damn poor relations in his khaki shorts and t-shirt.
They ate, talking about the last wild flings going on by the Lido pool, which played on the monitor. He and Britt managed to act like a couple of ordinary buddies, not two guys who’d done what they had last night. Good. That would make it all easier to forget, or at least convince himself it had only been a show for Vic. It should make him feel better, could mean he wasn’t half-gay.
“I think it’s time.” Vic’s pretty peach cheeks glowed out in the sunlight. Some artist should paint her. She looked at Britt, who smiled and cleared his throat.
“Vic and I have a proposition for you.” Britt leaned forward. “We want you to come and visit us, at our home. Any time you’d like.”
Just pop on by for some three-way sex.
“We’ll arrange all the transportation, fly you right to the Mountain,” Vic said. “Come and go whenever it fits into your schedule.” She put her hand on his knee. “We–I–” She glanced at Britt. “We care about you, David. We don’t want this to end.”
They both cared about him? He liked it, but he didn’t. Some other guy had feelings for him? Made him want to puke even more, mainly because he felt more for that guy than he should. He wouldn’t become some confused sex toy. He wouldn’t.
“No.” He pushed Vic’s hand off his knee. He felt like the hooker in Pretty Woman. It’s a really good offer for a guy like me. Except they’d always be the couple, and he’d always be some damn outsider showing up to add spice to their otherwise perfect sex life, then he’d leave and be alone again. Fuck, no. “This ends today. I can’t afford to show up on some tabloid news show in a headline about three-ways. It might happen already if that guy Griffin doesn’t keep his mouth shut or Peyton or your actress friend, or God-knows-who-else. I’ve got my entire career ahead of me, but if I screw up my reputation any more, I won’t have sponsors. Which means I won’t have a career.”
Vic shook her head. “If you come to the Mountain, nobody’s going to see you, or know.”
“Would you be willing to meet us somewhere?” Britt asked. Looking for a loophole, just what a lawyer should do. And why should he be negotiating for this? He had his wife; they’d had their fun. This couldn’t matter to Britt, and he couldn’t concern himself if it did.
Vic’s face had lost that glow and she was swallowing often, pressing her lips together. Going to cry.
Time to end this and make his escape. “Look.” He pushed his chair back. “This was a mistake. Coming on this cruise was a mistake. I thought I could sneak on board, and then do anything I wanted and the paparazzi wouldn’t know. But then I got here, and I realized how many people could leave and talk about who they saw.” Game face. “Once we hooked up, hiding out here was the perfect solution to my problem. It’s been fun, but really, I’m not after a long-term thing.”