Two Bosses - MMF Bisexual Romanc - Elle Everton PDF
Two Bosses - MMF Bisexual Romanc - Elle Everton PDF
Two Bosses - MMF Bisexual Romanc - Elle Everton PDF
ELLE EVERTON
Copyright
A D EL A ID E
ROB
A D EL A ID E
O h god.My head.
Owwwwwww.
Last night was …
Oh god.
Owwwwwww.
What is that noise? Is this real life?
Oh god, it’s my phone. Where did I
put it?
There it is, stuck inside my bra that
is draped over an orange juice container
that is on my bedroom floor. Obviously.
I grab for it and miss. Grab for it
again. Hit the button to answer it.
“Hello?”
My voice is that of an eighty-year-
old lung cancer patient.
“May I speak to Adelaide
Williams?”
“This is me. I mean, that’s her. I
mean. Fuck. Yes?”
“Miss Williams,” the woman on the
other end of the phone sounds
concerned. “This is Vanessa calling from
Temping Opportunities?”
Oh shit.
“Right, hi. Hello.” I’d registered
with a bunch of temp agencies last week
after I got sacked, but I hadn’t actually
heard from any of them yet. I try to sit up
in bed. I smooth down my bedhead
which is stupid because we’re on the
phone and she can’t see me, but it makes
me feel marginally more professional.
“We have a last minute opportunity
at Avondale & Bradley Financial
Holdings, if you’re available. They’re
looking for an administrative assistant
with general word processing and
secretarial skills. Two weeks minimum
with the possibility of extension, and
…”
“Yes,” I say immediately, even
before she finishes describing the job.
“Yes. When would I start?”
“Well, they’d need you this morning.
It’s a last minute situation, that’s why we
haven’t had much luck finding anyone
else…”
Fuck. I can’t go in this morning. I
have a hangover the size of Mount
Rushmore and I feel just as dour as those
old stone dudes. But I do need the money
… and I don’t like the way Vanessa from
Temping Opportunities just implied that I
am far from their first choice here.
“That’s fine,” I tell her. “I’ll take it. I
can be there in an hour.”
She doesn’t answer right away.
“Alright.” She sounds reluctant. “Sooner
would be better, if you can.”
“Absolutely,” I tell her. “I’m already
on my way.”
As soon as I hang up the phone I hop
out of bed and straight into the shower.
My head is throbbing and my mouth
tastes like I’ve been judging sandcastle
competitions with my tongue.
God, why had I let last night get so
out of control? Oh, right. Flaw number 4,
remember? Easily convinced to go along
with bad ideas. Maker of poor life
choices.
Fucking Mr. Shoulders in the
bathroom after I’d dumped scotch all
over him is a prime example.
Why oh why had I done that?
I mean, he was hot.
(Wow, was he hot.)
And it was good.
(Wow, was it good.)
But then he turned out to be such an
asshole. That comment about the dry
cleaning? Seriously? What kind of
human being says that to another human
being? My face flushes with shame just
at the memory of it. How stupid I had
been to think we had some sort of
connection.
Of course he turned out to be an
asshole, though. I don’t know why I’m
even surprised. Flaw number three —
horrible taste in men.
I couldn’t even bear to tell Daphne
what had happened when I got back to
our table — I was too embarrassed.
“Sorry that took so long,” I had said
but she’d waved me off, giggling.
“Don’t tell me,” she squealed. “I
don’t want to hear about how you had to
do number two.”
I had nearly choked. “Well, there
was definitely some bullshit involved.” I
didn’t elaborate further, and thankfully
she didn’t ask.
It was all too humiliating. All my
flaws, on full display last night. Another
classic Adelaide move. Reigning queen
of bad decisions.
It’s no wonder my life is such a
fucking disaster.
I shampoo my hair as quickly — and
angrily — as possible. This has got to
stop, I think to myself. I’m too old to still
be this much of a fuck-up. I’m going to
go to this new temp job and I’m going to
kick ass. I’ll be a model employee, and I
won’t call a single person a limp-dick
moron. Or any name at all really. In fact,
I’m going to keep my big mouth firmly
shut.
My legs too, for that matter. No more
random hook-ups. No more sex at all
until I meet someone that actually has the
potential to be ‘the one’.
After I get out of the shower I pull on
a black pencil skirt and my least
wrinkled button-down shirt, which is
unfortunately still pretty wrinkled. I
ignore how tight they both feel — I must
have gained ten pounds since I got fired,
because this outfit fit me perfectly two
weeks ago. Stupid heartbreak Haagen
Daaz. Maybe I should add ‘lose ten
pounds’ to my list of things to do.
Then again, let’s not go too crazy
here. If I’m swearing off men, I’m going
to need ice cream in my life.
I slick on some make-up, do a half-
assed job blowdrying my hair, and I’m
out the door forty-five minutes after I
hung up the phone with Vanessa.
ROB
A D EL A ID E
A ssight,
soon as Mr. Shoulders is out of
locked in his office, I let out
the whoosh of breath I’ve been holding.
Today is turning out to be perfectly
hellacious. How in the world did I end
up working at the same office as that
asshole? I swear the universe has it out
for me.
The other man — Liam — had
called him Robbie. I scan through the list
of names on the company directory. My
heart sinks immediately.
There’s a Robert on here, and only
one. His name’s right at the top —
Robert Avondale. President and CEO.
Fuck me.
Oh, this is bad. So so so bad.
I don’t have time to dwell on it,
because just then IT arrives to set up my
computer access. I sit nervously while
they do their thing, glancing between
Robert and Liam’s closed doors, but by
the time IT leaves, neither man has
emerged and I have a temporary email
address and access to the appointments
database.
By that time, the HR manager, Erica,
has arrived. She calls me into her office.
I head down the long glass hallway.
Erica’s office is small but it has wall to
wall windows that show off the New
York City skyline.
“Not too shabby, right?” She smiles
when she sees me ogling.
Erica is blond and has her hair
pulled back into a severe ponytail, but
her face is friendly and for the first time
since I walked into this building I feel
like I can relax by a fraction of an inch.
I sit down and she walks me through
the details of the job — although I’ve
already figured out most of it. My desk
is smack dab between Liam and
Robert’s offices, so whatever they need,
I’m it.
Erica doesn’t say it in so many
words, but basically the job is to be
their bitch. Officially, I take calls, book
appointments, get their paperwork ready
in between meetings. But, as Erica
explains, the more important part is all
the rest of it — getting coffee, picking up
dry cleaning, and basically trying to
anticipate their every need.
So basically an office bitch, but
psychic too. Super.
“You’ve probably already noticed
that they can be … challenging,” Erica
says, seeming to choose her words
carefully. Her thin hands are perfectly
manicured in a deep red, and she keeps
them pressed flat against the desk as she
speaks. “They are demanding bosses, but
it’s only because they have very
demanding roles themselves. They
require support staff who can actually
support them. Liam was very happy that
you were able to get the contract
delivered on time this morning, so
you’re off to a good start.”
The rest of her sentence goes
unspoken, but I can hear it plain as day:
so don’t fuck it up.
Still, I have to admit that I feel a
little thrill at the thought that Liam was
pleased with me. Now if only Robert
was equally impressed.
Addie, no. Ugh. I can’t let my mind
go down that road.
After my meeting with Erika, I go
back to my desk. Liam appears to be out,
and Robert’s door is closed. It stays that
way all morning, until lunchtime when
finally the door swings open and he
walks right past my desk without looking
at me.
Well, this is going to be a wonderful
couple of weeks. I consider going back
to Erica’s office and telling her I can’t
work here, but I force myself to take a
deep breath and a step back. I need this
job. I’m going to make this work.
I use the time with him and Liam
both gone to sneak out and get some
lunch of my own. My stomach is still a
little queasy and all I want is salt and
grease. I find a food truck and mow
down an order of french fries with extra
ketchup.
I feel remarkably better afterwards.
On my way back to the office I stop and
pick up another bottle of green juice. I
spot a colon cleanse one and snatch it up
immediately. I know a certain person
who could use this.
I know I said I would keep my big
mouth shut, but technically this isn’t me
saying anything, right?
L IA M
A D EL A ID E
ROB
A D EL A ID E
L IA M
A D EL A ID E
A D EL A ID E
W eeyes
drive in silence. Rob keeps his
on the road and I don’t
interrupt him, but I know it isn’t the
traffic that has him so tense. He’s never
talked specifically about his relationship
with Liam’s family, but I know he’s
close to them. He’s said that they
practically raised him. I know this has to
be hurting him.
We get to the hospital in record time
— or Rob time, maybe — and he slides
into a parking spot near the visitors’
entrance.
“Do you know what floor they’re
on?”
Rob looks at his phone. “Fourth.”
We ride the elevator up in silence. It
pains me to see him this way. Rob is
always so confident, so cocky. Now he
looks worried. His face is pale in the
fluorescent light of the elevator, and his
jaw is set. I find myself wanting to run
my fingers along his cheek, to feel the
stubble under my palm, to somehow kiss
away this pain for him. My mind goes
back to where we were just a few
minutes ago, in his office, me on tip toes,
his hands tangled in my hair…
No. That was a mistake. I was lucky
that Liam had interrupted things. Not
lucky about the nature of the interruption,
of course, but the timing was perfect. It
stopped us from going any further than
we should have.
And that was what I wanted, right?
When the elevator doors ping open,
Rob puts his hand on the small of my
back and ushers me out. I resist the
shiver his touch sends shooting up my
spine. Instead we walk grimly down the
hallway, looking for a nurse’s station or
waiting room.
We don’t see any sign of Liam, so
Rob pulls out his phone to text him that
we’re here. His hand comes away from
my back, and the loss of his touch is like
a physical ache. I ignore it. Not the time.
A few seconds after Rob’s text, Liam
emerges from one of the rooms. He’s
way down the hallway from us, but it
isn’t difficult to spot his enormous
frame. Rob and I hurry down the hallway
towards him.
“Thanks for coming,” he says, when
we’re in front of him.
“Of course. Is she okay?”
Liam shakes his head. His motion is
slow and filled with a bone-deep
sadness that I can actually feel, radiating
off of him. I suddenly feel out of place
here. This is a family matter. I don’t
know why Rob brought me here.
“How bad?” Rob asks. His voice is
tinged with desperation.
“Bad.” Liam’s voice croaks, and I
feel my heart twist a little. Without
thinking, I slip my hand inside Rob’s and
squeeze.
“The cancer’s back,” Liam says.
“It’s spread to her lungs.”
“Fuck.” Rob says. I squeeze his hand
tighter. I don’t know what else to do.
“Fuck!” he says again. The rage and
sorrow in his voice is clear, and it’s
echoed in Liam’s expression.
Heartbreak.
Liam looks so alone standing there
that I can’t leave him hanging like that. I
slip my other hand into his and give it a
squeeze. He looks back at me with such
gratitude that I shiver a little under the
intensity of it. I look back and forth
between these two men. Both so
powerful and capable, both brought to
their knees by this primal sadness.
Tears prick my eyes but I refuse to
let them fall. This is not my tragedy, I
remind myself. I empathize with them,
and my heart breaks for what they’re
going through, but the last thing I want to
do is make this all about me.
“Can we see her?” Rob asks, finally
breaking the silence.
Liam glances back into the room.
“She’s sleeping right now. But we can
go in.”
“I’ll wait out here,” I say,
automatically, letting go of both of their
hands.
But Rob looks at me with such deep
sadness that I waffle. “Unless you want
me to.”
Liam nods, and so does Rob, and so
I follow them in.
Liam’s mother is lying in the hospital
bed. She looks tiny and frail, even in the
stiff hospital bed, and for a brief second
I wonder how this woman managed to
produce a son as big and imposing as
Liam.
Liam and Rob walk towards the bed,
almost reverently.
“Rob’s here, Mom.”
Her eyes crack open.
“Hi honey.” She reaches out her hand
and Rob grabs it instantly, giving it a
squeeze.
“Are you feeling okay, Julia?”
“I was feeling better before they told
me I had a tumor on my lung. That part of
my day was kind of a bummer.”
I crack a small smile. I think I would
like Liam’s mother.
Her eye wanders over to me. “Who’s
your friend, Rob?”
He and Liam exchange a glance, then
Rob nudges me forward. “This is
Adelaide, Julia. Addie. She’s a friend of
mine. Of both of ours, really.”
Julia looks back and forth between
the three of us. There’s something in her
expression that sends a small shiver
down my spine.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, and then I
take a step backwards, wanting to let her
have her time with Liam and Rob.
The two men move in closer towards
her. Their shoulders touch as they lean
in. Rob takes her hand and then I see
Liam move his hand to Rob’s back. He
keeps his palm there, spread wide,
occasionally rubbing Rob’s back lightly.
I fixate on his hand. There is
something so deeply intimate about that
gesture that I almost have to shake my
head to make sure I’m seeing it right.
But no, it’s right.
His hand stays there, splayed against
the back of Rob’s suit jacket. Rob
doesn’t move away or even seem to
acknowledge the gesture, except that he
moves a fraction of an inch closer to
Liam, until their bodies are close enough
to be touching.
It’s nothing, Addie. They’re both
upset, and they’ve known each other a
long time. It’s like one brother putting
his arm around another.
But Liam doesn’t have his arm
around Rob. Not in the way you’d expect
in a situation like this. It isn’t slung
affectionately around his shoulders. His
hand is on Rob’s back. Not quite the
lower back, but somewhere around the
middle. Where you’d put your hand if
you were comforting someone you
loved.
No big deal, though, right?
Obviously they love each other on some
level. They’re best friends. They grew
up together.
Before I have any more time to
consider what this means, Liam lets his
hand drop. “Dad!” he says, looking over
to the distinguished gentleman in the
doorway.
“Hi Liam,” the man says. “Rob.”
“Hi Jack.” Rob goes over to him,
clasps his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Jack’s face cracks a little, and
although he looks austere in his light
yellow button-down and neatly cropped
silver hair, it’s easy to see the pain
written on his face.
I look away, wanting to give them a
moment. I think again that I shouldn’t
have come, that it’s wrong for me to be
here, but just as I start considering
making an excuse to leave, Liam slides
his hand back into mine.
“Dad, this is Addie. Adelaide. A
friend of ours.”
Jack Bradley reaches out a hand and
I take it and shake. “Pleasure to meet
you, Addie.”
“You too, sir. I’m sorry it’s under
these circumstances.”
He smiles ruefully. “Me too, my
dear. Me too.”
Julia asks for a glass of water and
the three men trip over themselves to get
it for her. I take that opportunity to sneak
into the hallway to get some air. I feel
too weird being here right now. This is
family time. They should be together.
When I catch Rob’s eye, I wave him
out of the room for a second.
“I’m going to get a cab home,” I say,
once he’s in the hallway with me.
“Why? I can drive you.”
I shake my head. “No, you should
stay. I don’t want you to have to worry
about me.”
His face is concerned, but I assume
that’s mostly because of Julia. I reach
out and squeeze his arm.
“Hey, I’m good.” I tell him. “Honest.
You take care of yourself. I’ll see you
tomorrow, if you make it in. If not, I’ll
hold down the fort.” I grin to show him
that he doesn’t need to worry, but his
expression doesn’t change.
Suddenly he grabs my arm, pushing
me up against the wall. His lips are on
mine in a heartbeat, pressing against me,
pushing my head and hair up against the
wall, reckless. His tongue is in my
mouth, feeling me, finding me. I open up
to let him in and feel my knees go weak
with the thrill of it. Rob.
The moment is so intense that I find
myself swooning into him, letting him
cradle my body between his own and the
wall. He keeps me supported, his thick
well-muscled arms holding me up.
“Rob,” I breathe into him, not
knowing what other words make sense
in this moment.
“Addie,” he says, his voice the same
as mine, as lost and confused.
“Rob.” Liam’s voice from the
hallway beside us.
We pull apart instantly, guilty as two
foxes in a chicken coop.
“Everything okay?” Rob asks, his
breathing as labored as mine feels right
now.
“Yeah,” Liam says slowly.
“Everything’s fine. She was just asking
for you.” He’s studying the two of us
with an intense expression I can’t read.
Is he mad that we’re out here kissing
while he’s in there with his mother?
Or is it something else?
I touch my lips lightly, feeling the
way they still tingle with the memory of
Rob’s tongue.
“I’m going to go,” I say again. “I’ll
see you guys tomorrow. I’m sorry about
your mother, Liam. Give her my
regards.”
They both watch me as I make my
way down the hallway to the elevator. I
can feel their eyes on me with every
step, but I don’t let myself look back.
ROB
A D EL A ID E
A D EL A ID E
ROB
L IA M
A llshower,
weekend, I whistle. In the
at the gym, even lying in
bed, trying to fall asleep.
Even with all the stress in my life —
Mom’s health, Claudia’s refusal to go
visit her — I feel surprisingly light.
Fulfilled.
Somehow, being with Addie and
Rob feels like everything I ever wanted.
It should have been weird but … it just
wasn’t. It was perfect. And not just
because the sex was hot, though it was.
Really fucking hot. There’s just
something about the comfort of being
with the two of them — an ease and
familiarity that’s been building for
weeks now.
Rob and I go way back, and our
friendship reaches beyond the usual
dude-bro stereotypes. We’ve always had
a connection. But Addie went and lit a
spark to that. Now what the three of us
have is something greater than the sum of
it’s parts.
In fact, I think I could fall … well, I
don’t want to get ahead of myself.
So I whistle.
I get stares while I’m in the gym,
because I’m whistling “Singin’ in the
Rain” while I’m laying into the punching
bag, while everyone else is sweating
buckets and grunting and snorting like
they’re fighting in an MMA match. I
can’t help it. I’ve turned into a Gene
Kelly kind of a guy. Life is too short to
be angry all the time.
Even though I still have plenty to be
angry about. Mom’s cancer coming back
— that’s a bitch and a half. Enough to
make me stop whistling for a minute,
while I slam against the bag. It isn’t fair.
We were supposed to be past all that.
She’ll fight it, I tell myself. She
fought it last time and she’ll fight it
again. She’s a survivor.
She has to be.
As soon as I’ve showered off, I give
Dad a call.
“How is she?” I ask, as soon as he
answers, knowing he’ll forgive my
brusqueness.
He sighs. “She’s okay. She’s
coughing a lot now, and she gets tired so
easily. We’re still just waiting to hear if
they’ll clear her for surgery.”
“Fuck.”
He’s quiet on the other end of the
phone. I clear my throat.
“I thought I’d come by and visit this
afternoon. Will you be around?” Mom’s
home from the hospital now, but they’ve
ordered her to stay on strict bed rest.
“Where else would we be?” The
bitterness in his voice cuts me.
“I’ll come by and see you,” I say.
“Can I bring anything?”
Dad sighs again. “We don’t need
anything.”
“Okay.” I pause. Dad and I don’t
really do this emotional stuff, but the
pain in his voice is obvious. “Hang in
there, okay, Dad? She’s a fighter.”
“I know she is, son.” He goes quiet
on the other end of the line. “I just wish I
could do the fighting for her.” His voice
breaks and I swallow a lump in my
throat.
“I’ll see you guys soon.”
I hang up the phone. I’m sitting in my
SUV, still in the gym parking lot. Tears
prick my eyes but I brush them away.
This is craziness. She’s fine. She’s going
to be fine.
Back at the office, I’m the first one to
arrive. I go into my office and call
Claudia, but it goes straight to
voicemail. I give her an update on
Mom’s condition. I try to sound serious
without making it sound like Mom’s
about to drop dead tomorrow. “I’m
going out to visit tonight,” I tell her
machine. “It would be great if you could
come. I’m sure she’d love to see you.
We all would.”
I hang up. I don’t really expect to
hear back, but I feel better knowing I put
in the effort.
Rob arrives a few minutes later and
pokes his head through my door.
“Hey.”
He looks awkward, like he isn’t
quite sure what to say, and somehow that
throws me a little off base too.
“Hey.”
Rob runs a hand through his dark
hair. “That was crazy, right? The other
day?”
“Yeah.” I grin. “Good crazy though.”
Rob relaxes a hair, or at least he
seems to. “Yeah. Have you spoken to
Addie yet?”
“Not yet. Have you?”
He shakes his head. “Hope she’s not
too freaked out by the whole thing.”
“Freaked out by what?”
Addie’s voice startles both of us.
Rob steps aside and then there she is, a
vision in a red peacoat, her dark waves
hanging loose around her shoulders.
And, bless her, a tray of coffees.
She hands one to Rob and then steps
in to my office to set the second one on
my desk.
“Freaked out by what?” she asks
again, looking back and forth between
Rob and I. “The other night? Why would
I be freaked out by the fact that I just had
a threesome with my two bosses?”
Rob and I are both shocked into
silence, but then I start to laugh. Rob
laughs too and then, thank God, Addie is
laughing too. Yes, this moment is
awkward, but the three of us can get
through it together.
At six o’clock, I finally drag myself
away from work. If I don’t leave now,
it’ll be too late to see Mom. I make the
long drive out to their place and then go
inside without knocking.
The living room is quiet so I slip off
my shoes and make my way upstairs.
Even from the hallway I can hear the
low buzz of the twenty-four-hour news
channel. I smile to myself and shake my
head.
“Hope no one is indecent in there,” I
call, just before I poke my head into
their bedroom.
Mom is propped up in the bed again,
surrounded by a mass of pillows as if
she’s in real danger of falling out of the
bed somehow. Dad’s sitting on an arm
chair beside her, one they’ve somehow
hauled up from the living room. There’s
an issue of The Economist sitting open
across his knees but he doesn’t look like
he’s reading it.
“Dad, you should have let me help
you with that,” I say, gesturing towards
the chair.
“Oh, it’s okay. The Porters, across
the street, they had their son Danny come
over to help out.”
I don’t tell them that I’m the son who
should be doing these things. The truth
is, Danny is a good kid, and I’m glad
they have people helping out.
“Oh, here, I brought you something.”
I hand her over a couple of chocolate
bars, imported from the UK, the kind you
can only get in poncy little shops. Mom
went to England once for four days when
she was in college, and now loves to
imagine that she developed a deep
appreciation for British chocolate. The
American stuff just isn’t the same, she’ll
tell anyone who listens.
Now she takes the chocolates but
puts them immediately on her nightstand.
“Thanks, sweetie. I’m sure these
will be delicious once I have some of
my appetite back.”
“You’re not eating? I could have
brought you something else. Those
burgers you love from the North Street
Diner. Or maybe some of those meal
replacement shakes, so you can get
enough calories even when you don’t
feel like eating.”
Mom pats my leg. “I’m fine, honey.”
She looks away, pulling at a stray thread
in the blanket. I notice how small her
hands are. “Have you heard from your
sister lately?”
“Not lately,” I say, not mentioning
that she hasn’t responded to my
voicemail. “I think she’s been really
busy with work these days.”
“You kids work too hard. Just make
sure you’re making time for the good
stuff in life. No one gets to the end of
their life and wishes they’d spent more
time working. Trust me.”
“First of all,” I say sternly. “You’re
not at the end of your life. The doctors
think you have a good prognosis. We just
have to keep our fingers crossed that
they’ll clear you for surgery.”
“You’re right,” she says, though I can
tell that her smile is forced. “You’re a
good son, Liam. Now what’s the second
thing?”
“What?”
“You said ‘first of all.’ So what’s the
second of all?” This time the grin that
twists up her lips is genuine.
I smile back, and mine is genuine
too. “I was just going to say that you
don’t have to worry about me wasting
my life away at the office. I’m … very
happy right now.”
Mom perks up. “Does this mean
you’ve met someone?” She turns to Dad,
incredulous. “Jack, he’s met someone.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s still new,
so I don’t want to get too ahead of
myself. But yes, I’ve met someone.”
Mom claps her hands together. “Oh,
Liam. I want lots and lots of
grandbabies, okay?”
“Well, I think that’s the very
definition of getting ahead of myself, but,
okay, your request is noted.”
“When can I meet her?”
I don’t know why her question takes
me by surprise, but it does. “Actually…
you already did.”
“That girl at the hospital the other
day.” Her eyes twinkle, and she looks at
Dad. “I told you,” she says smugly. She
turns back to me. “We liked her, Liam,
we did. We just couldn’t figure out if she
liked you or Rob more.”
“Well, uh…” I have no idea how to
get out of this one. “We’ve all gotten
very close.”
Mom studies my face, and the
expression on her own face sends a rush
of blood through me, coloring the back
of my neck. Mom’s always been too
perceptive for her own good.
Finally, she nods. “That’s good. Rob
needs people. People he can trust.
You’re the only person he’s ever let in,
and if he ever lost you to a woman, I
don’t know what he’d do. If you can find
someone willing to let him in the way
that you have — well, I can’t imagine
anything better. For both of you.”
I have no idea if she knows just what
she’s saying — if she’s deduced the
exact nature of our relationship, or if
she’s speaking in a more general sense.
But either way, she’s right. Rob’s fear of
abandonment runs bone deep. I’d seen it
play out over and over again, the way
he’d bail before he got too close to
anyone.
Anyone but me, that is.
Maybe it was because we were
already friends before his parents died,
but somehow he had always been able to
trust me.
And although I hadn’t thought of it in
exactly that way before, I realize Mom’s
words are absolutely true. If I had ever
gotten into a serious relationship with a
woman, Rob would have felt I’d
abandoned him too. Who knows what
that would have done to him?
It makes me wonder if that’s why, on
some level, I’d avoided relationships of
my own, preferring to focus on Rob and
our business. I had always known I
wanted a wife, a family — and yet I’d
never go on more than the odd date, have
the occasional one-night stand.
Addie was the missing piece of the
puzzle. Somehow she’d opened up a
door big enough for both Rob and I to
walk through.
And although I don’t know what the
future holds, I realize, sitting there on
Mom’s bed, holding her thin bony hands,
that whatever happens, there’s no
walking back out that door.
CHAPTER 18
A D EL A ID E
L IA M
A D EL A ID E
W eandendthisuptime
back at Liam’s again,
we don’t even
make it to the bedroom. Before the door
even latches behind us, Liam has his
hands on the hem of my dress and is
pulling, tugging it, wrenching it off my
body with a frantic need that makes me
want to yell at him to just rip it already.
Rob is already making his way
through the top of the dress — he shoves
it down roughly and scoops my breasts
out so that they spill over the sweetheart
neckline. Then his lips move to my
nipples and he’s sucking, nibbling,
swirling until they stiffen under his
tongue.
He shrugs out of his jacket and I
fumble with his buttons. I need to see his
chest now, feel it under my hands, his
pecs like thick steaks.
While Rob works my nipples, Liam
drops to the floor in front of me. My
dress is bunched up around my waist
now, exposing the fact that I went to the
gala commando. I look down at Liam
and shrug, and he grins.
“Dirty girl,” he calls me and I shiver
with how right he is.
I spread my legs to give him better
access, leaning up against the wall for
balance.
His tongue travels the length of my
thighs, first one, then the other, trailing a
tantalizing wet pattern along the
sensitive skin. When he lets his tongue
trail across my mound I gasp, arching my
hips so that I can feel his tongue against
my center.
He spreads my lips with one hand
and then stiffens his tongue, flicking it
back and forth across my clit.
I bite down on my own fist to keep
from crying out, but the sensation of one
man tonguing my pussy while the other
sucks at my breasts is almost too much
too bear. I can’t imagine that I’ll ever get
used to this.
I pull Rob up so that I can kiss him,
wanting to see his face, look into his
eyes while his best friend devours me.
That look of lust — God, it makes me
crazier than anything. I move my hand
along the smooth skin of his stomach,
letting it dip down below his waist to
cup his erection.
“Oh, fuck, Addie.”
I undo his belt and push his pants
down over his hips, freeing his eager
cock. I run my fingers along his
thickness, feeling the veins and ridges
pulse under my fingertips. I grip it with
one hand and stroke the length of him,
making sure he’s ready. When he throws
his head back against the wall, I know.
I gently nudge Liam’s head away
from my pussy, even though the sudden
absence of his mouth sends a shock of
longing through me. I move him gently
towards the left and hold out Rob’s stiff
cock for him.
Liam looks up at me, taboo desire
flashing in his eyes. I smile at him and
nod.
He reaches out his tongue and flicks
at the head of Rob’s dick. Rob’s eyes
widen and then roll back in his head as
he realizes what’s happening. I run my
hands through his hair.
“Does that feel good?” I whisper
against his neck.
“Fuck, yes.”
That’s all the encouragement Liam
needs. He takes his best friend’s dick
into his mouth, riding it up and down,
letting it crash into the back of his throat.
Rob’s balls slap against his chin.
It makes me crazy to see them
together like that. Both of them exuding
such raw masculine energy, and yet both
of them so willing to give in to the
ultimate pleasure. I reach my hand down
between my legs and find my clit,
leaning against the wall for support as I
make small tight circles, pressing the
hood down against the sensitive bud.
Rob has his hands in Liam’s hair
now, guiding him up and down along his
cock. I can see his body tensing, each of
his muscles painted in stark relief under
his skin. I run my tongue along his collar
bone and he shudders.
“I need you,” he says. He moves
away from Liam’s mouth and grabs me,
throwing me roughly to the floor. I reach
for him, not caring that I’m on the cold
tile, but only wanting to feel the heat of
his body on top of me. I spread my legs
and pull him neatly between me.
His cock is still slick with saliva,
and my pussy drips with my own
lubricant, and when he finally lines
himself up at my entrance, it doesn’t take
anything at all before he’s thrusted firmly
inside of me. I gasp at the shock of it, the
sudden fullness, and grab onto his ass to
pull him even more deeply into me. We
both pause there for a minute, adjusting
to the new reality of our bodies as one.
Liam crouches above Rob, stroking
his cock slowly. He’s somehow
managed to shed all his clothes without
me noticing, and now his huge and
powerful frame towers over us. He
kneels behind Rob and puts his hand on
his upper back.
“This okay?” he whispers roughly
into Rob’s neck. Rob closes his eyes
tightly and nods, and we all brace
ourselves for the thing that comes next.
Liam presses his cock up to Rob’s
asshole and pushes. A grimace crosses
Rob’s face but it’s one that’s tinged with
ecstasy. I hold his hips steady, keeping
him still inside of me and ready for
Liam’s assault.
Liam takes his time, letting Rob
adjust to this new presence. He pushes
in excruciatingly slowly, quarter inch by
quarter inch, until his cock is fully
buried inside his best friend.
We all pause for a moment,
marveling at this miracle, this complete
puzzle. Rob inside of me and Liam
inside of Rob. Somehow it works.
Somehow it’s right.
Rob is the one who first starts to
move. Liam and I keep still, letting him
find a rhythm that works and then
merging our hips with his. We are
connected here, physically but somehow
more than that too.
I arch my pelvis up to meet Rob’s as
he thrusts forward. He keeps his own
hips angled back a bit, just enough so
that Liam can move his own hips
forward. We move together that way, bit
by bit, slowly picking up speed, flowing
into one another, finding one another. I
run my hands through Rob’s hair and
then pull his head to mine so that our
foreheads touch, so that I can watch him,
fucking and getting fucked.
The weight of both men on top of me
is almost crushing, but I keep my feet
firmly planted on the cool tile of Liam’s
front hallway. Later maybe we’ll laugh
about the fact that we couldn’t even
make it past the entryway, but for now
we’re all single-minded in our erotic
pursuit.
The feeling of him inside of me is
exquisite, but somehow it’s even more of
a turn-on to feel Liam’s rhythm as he
pounds his cock into Rob’s ass. My back
slides against the cold tile and I grip my
thighs around Rob’s hips, pulling him
closer to me.
Rob looks down at me. His
expression is fraught, and I know he
won’t last much longer. Sweat coats his
brow. He picks up his pace, grunting,
thrusting. The friction pushes me over
the edge and I feel the orgasm start to
build. My abs clench, contorting my
body, my limbs stiffening as my insides
seem to soften. I grip Rob’s cock with
my pussy, pulling him to me, coating
him, until my release shatters both of us.
Rob slams into me, once more, twice
more, before his body shudders and he
pours his spent excitement into my slick
tunnel.
I cup his face, kissing him on the
lips, while Liam thrusts again and again
into Rob’s ass. I watch as Liam’s face
twists, his knuckles whitening as he
grips Rob’s hips. Even though I can’t
feel it, I can see it on his face, the exact
moment he comes, and I can feel it in
Rob’s kiss, the shock and awe of Liam
shooting a hot load deep inside of him.
The two of them tumble off of me,
and the three of us lay on the cool slate
tile floor. We breathe in unison, all of us
desperate to fill our lungs, to remember
how to be three instead of one.
A D EL A ID E
ROB
A D EL A ID E
ROB
A D EL A ID E
L IA M
E verything is dead.
I’m dead, my body’s dead, my
mind is dead, my heart is dead.
I go through the motions. I shower,
shave. Make a pot of coffee that I don’t
touch. Sit down on the sofa. Stand up
again.
My limbs are wooden, like a
marionette being controlled by the one
part of my brain that still seems to be
able to function today.
I walk to the bedroom. I stare into
the mirror. I tie my tie. My fingers still
work, it seems, and muscle memory
makes it surprisingly easy to knot it
neatly around my neck
The tie is black, of course. The shirt
I’m wearing is white, pants black.
There’s a jacket hanging in my closet,
still in the bag. Everything is new. I
couldn’t bring myself to wear any of my
work suits to my mother’s funeral.
My mother’s funeral.
Even thinking the words brings a
lump to my throat.
This should never have happened.
This is a horrible mistake, a cosmic
cruelty that surely the universe will have
to rectify. No way can she really be
gone, just like that.
She was doing well. Cleared for
surgery, and scheduled for the day after
tomorrow. Then boom. Pulmonary
embolism. Blood clot in her lung.
Dead before the ambulance arrived.
The doctors said the original round
of chemo made her more susceptible to
them. They said there was nothing we
could have done differently. Nothing that
would have stopped it or prevented it.
So just like that, she was gone from
our lives.
I yank my tie off and tie it again,
neater, straighter, more perfect this time,
just to have something to do with my
hands.
I walk back out to the living room,
sit down on the sofa, stand up again. I
don’t know what to do with myself.
I’m startled, and then relieved, when
my phone rings. A task, even a small
one. Answer the phone.
I’m even more relieved when I
realize it’s the front desk reception of my
building.
“Mr. Bradley, Mr. Avondale is here
to see you.”
“Send him up.”
Rob has been here a million times
but they insist on proper security
procedures in this building, and at the
moment I like the rigidity of it.
I wait the few minutes and can
almost count down to the exact second
when Rob will —
Knock. I go to the door and there he
is. His face is as broken as mine. We are
both dead. All dead.
He steps into the apartment and
immediately into my arms. It feels good
to hold him, to be held by him. I kick the
door closed behind him and then let
myself sink into the embrace. Rob’s
shoulders shake and I let my own tears
come too. It feels good to not have to be
strong for a minute. Later there will be
Dad and Claudia to look after, Mom’s
sisters to comfort, a hundred strangers to
shake hands with, to accept condolences
from.
For now there’s just Rob and me and
we don’t have to be anything special.
Just us.
Rob shifts in my arms. His hand
twines behind my neck and then his jaw
is against mine and then his lips are
pressing against the corner of my mouth.
I don’t hesitate. I feel suddenly,
ferociously, hungry for him. I clamp my
mouth down on his, letting my tongue
snake between his lips as my hand grips
the back of his neck. With my free hand,
I’m already pushing off his suit jacket,
moving for the buttons on his crisp white
shirt.
His mouth on mine is like fire, and I
savor the distracting intensity of it. He
moves his hands to my shirt, clawing at
my buttons, and then we are pulling
everything off, a pile of funeral attire
heaped on the floor beside us.
I let my hands run the length of his
bare chest. His muscles are hard and
lean. His skin is smoother than mine, but
rougher than Addie’s.
Addie. Her name is another painful
jolt to the heart. I wish she was here
with us right now. Being with her would
make this better, easier. But there is only
me and Rob right now, two buoys on a
bay in the storm.
My dick is already hard when Rob
drops to his knees in front of me. He
takes me in his mouth in one swallow,
all the way to the back of his throat. I
lean against the wall and groan. My
balls tighten almost immediately. His
mouth on my cock is heaven. He sucks
frantically, ferociously, as if I might give
him life of some kind.
I grip the back of his head. There’s
nothing gentle about my touch, or about
the way he tries to devour me. We both
need this right now. I plow my hips
forward, forcing him to take me again
and again.
When my balls start to lift and churn,
I slide out of his hot wet mouth.
“Get up,” I growl. “Turn around.”
Rob gets to his feet. We haven’t
made it out of the front entrance so I
bend him roughly over the console table.
A vase of condolence flowers — white
roses — goes crashing to the floor,
spreading water and broken glass and
bruised petals around our feet. I kick
what I can aside, too hungry to care
whether I get cuts on my feet.
My dick is still slick from Rob’s
mouth but first I slide my middle finger
into my mouth and then press it against
his tight asshole. I push it in. I love the
way he takes me.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Fuck, yeah.”
I brace my hand against his shoulder
for leverage. I move my other hand away
and replace my finger with my cock,
which immediately strains against his
asshole. I push forward slowly,
carefully, until he opens up to me. He’s
tight but I can feel his body drawing me
in, like it wants me there. Like I belong
there.
“Fuck.” I grunt as I slam into him.
Rob whimpers beneath me. He leans his
weight against the console table which
bangs the wall every time I thrust into
him. Sweat is already pricking my skin,
and my abs slide against his back as I
lean over him.
I reach around and grab his cock in
my fist. It’s hard and heavy in my hand,
and it feels as explosive as a live
grenade. I start to beat him off and he
whimpers again, shimmying his ass
backwards. I bury myself in him over
and over again until my balls hitch and
churn and I empty myself into him, filling
his tight cavity with my spent excitement.
I jerk his cock faster, harder, wanting
to give him a taste of that same sweet
relief. He stays bent over the table, ass
still in the air, my dick softening inside
of him. Finally I feel his body tighten.
His muscles clench. And then he’s
shooting out all over the tile floor, his
seed mixing with the broken glass at our
feet.
We stay there for a second,
breathing. I can feel his heartbeat
through his back. Neither of us says a
word. Eventually I take my clothes into
the master ensuite to get dressed again,
leaving Rob to clean up in the guest bath.
I look in the mirror as I tie my tie for
the third time that day. Being with Rob
had felt good — and been a welcome
distraction — but it wasn’t the same
without Addie. She had been an integral
part of us, a bit of softness to our steel.
Without her it felt different — like less,
somehow.
I shake my head. I still didn’t
entirely understand what had happened
there. She had been such a good fit for
us, or so I thought — until Rob found out
she’d been fooling around with her ex. It
was still so inconceivable to me, that
she would do that to us, but Rob said he
had it on good authority. He had been
serious about not wanting to see her
again, and he was too important to me
for me to disregard his wishes. I’d
ignored her calls since then, had talked
to Erica about getting the temp agency to
send someone new to fill her role in the
office.
Rob didn’t know I’d called to tell
her about Mom, but … I just couldn’t
not.
I only pray he’ll keep it together
when he sees her at the funeral later.
A D EL A ID E
A D EL A ID E
I t’soffice.
dark and grey when I leave the
It’s dark and grey every day
when I leave the office. Come to think of
it, it’s dark and grey when I leave my
apartment in the mornings too. The sun
could have stopped existing and I
wouldn’t even know it.
I wrap my scarf tight around my neck
as I walk to the subway. It’s December
now, and the wind is bitingly cold.
Normally I love this time of year, as we
lead up to the holidays and everything is
covered in white Christmas lights and
pumpkin spice, but this year it’s all just
leaving me cold.
Literally and figuratively, I think, as I
shiver under the bitter wind.
I was lucky enough to get a new temp
job, though through a different agency
this time. Temping Opportunities wasn’t
exactly happy about me getting
summarily dismissed from Avondale &
Bradley.
My new job is much more boring
than my last, though I suppose that’s for
the best. I’m essentially a data entry
monkey now. I work for an ad-buying
company and I log ad entries into their
invoicing system so they can properly
bill their clients. Hundreds of channels,
hours a night — all recorded as fifteen
second intervals. It is painfully, mind-
numbingly boring.
But I guess that’s perfect for me
these days. Mind-numbing is good.
Mind-numbing is better than crying all
the time.
I ride the subway home and avoid
eye contact with anyone. Walk the six
blocks back to my building.
“Hi Harry.”
“Evening, Addie.”
“Not too cold?”
“I’m alright.” He gestures to the
sleeping bag wrapped around his legs.
“You have money to bus over to St.
Mary’s if it gets too cold out?” I ask,
referring to the homeless shelter he
sleeps at some nights.
Harry rubs his jaw but doesn’t
answer. He refuses to ask for money,
even when he needs it. I slip a twenty
out of my wallet and hand it to him, wish
him a good night, and then climb the
several flights of stairs until I’m finally
back in my apartment.
“Coco, stop that!”
I race over to the window. The kitten
has somehow managed to scale half way
up the living room curtains, and I rush to
scoop her off before she falls. Her small
furry body twists in my arms, limbs
reaching for the floor, claws out.
“Ow! God damn it.” I put her down
on the carpet and lick my thumb where
she got me. “You little witch.”
She looks at me with a non-plussed
expression and hops away to her next
adventure. I can’t help but laugh. When I
had decided to get a cat I had imagined a
cute cuddly ball of fur that would curl up
in my lap and purr every time I pet it.
Instead I got the devil incarnate. Oh,
she was cute all right, with her little grey
ears and white face. But otherwise she
was a little spitfire, always racing
around the house, spinning out of my
reach, finding all manner of things to get
her little paws into. She was untamable,
uncuddle-able.
I absolutely loved her.
“You nut,” I tell her affectionately, as
she zooms around my feet.
I slip off my coat and hang it on the
rack by the door, then go to flick on the
television. I’ve started doing that when I
get home in the evenings now. Just for
background noise. The voices make it
seem less empty in here. Coco helps
with that too.
I open two cans — cat food for
Coco, and alphabet soup for me. I dump
the cat food in Coco’s bowl and laugh as
she comes tearing out of the living room
as soon as she hears the fork against the
bowl. Then I dump my tin of soup into a
pot and pour a glass of wine.
I stare out the window and sip my
wine as I wait for the soup to heat
through. This is my routine now. Work,
home, soup, television.
It’s a boring life, but it’s a good one,
I think. It’s simple. Straight forward.
Very little room to fuck anything up. All
my flaws are carefully boxed away, for
my own safety.
Terrible taste in men? Not when you
aren’t seeing anyone.
Terrible life choices? My biggest
life choice these days is what type of
canned soup to buy.
My ass? Well — okay, that one is
probably here to stay.
But even my big mouth stays firmly
shut these days. They love me at my new
office, because I keep to myself and get
my work done. New Adelaide is way
more successful than old Adelaide ever
was.
But is new Adelaide happy? A little
voice inside me whispers.
“Doesn’t matter,” I mutter out loud,
just as my soup boils.
A D EL A ID E
THE END
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ALSO BY ELLE
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