“Because it’s over.” She gave him a thin smile. “Hope you’re very happy together.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” he called after her, but she didn’t halt her rush upstairs.
Matt pulled out a chair and slumped into it.
God, could this mess get any worse?
CHAPTER 3
Cait didn’t sleep. She curled up in the center of her bed, staring at the wall that separated her from Tristan. Matthew’s set of rooms was on her other side.
Right there, but so far.
In the past, she’d loved knowing her guys were only feet away. Not anymore. Now that knowledge was like a dozen knives slashing open her heart.
They were lovers. They undressed each other, kissed, touched each other’s naked bodies. And then, after all that, one of them thrust in the other’s ass and—
And then what? Did they curl up afterward and murmur endearments? Engage in pillow talk? Or mutter something manly and strut away?
Letting out a soft groan, she covered her face. Her nipples
felt as hard and hot as burning coals, and her pulse had yet to stop racing, hours after her fight with Matt.
Then there was what had come after the fight.
Pictures scrolled through her mind. Explicit, erotic pictures of Tristan kneeling between her legs to lick her while Matt poised behind him, his heavy cock in his hand as he inched inside Tristan’s ass. Of her riding Matt while Tristan moved up behind her, his hands rolling up her torso to clutch her breasts while he claimed her from behind.
Way behind. Not just doggy style. She wanted both men inside her, breaching both entrances.
She was a freak. Had to be. Why else would a virgin be interested in leapfrogging right from so-called normal sex into the grand slam of fucking?
After a long, fitful night, Cait took a hot shower and dressed in black pants and a festive red cowl-necked sweater.
It was almost Christmas, dammit, and she was going to be happy if it killed her.
She brushed her long hair to a high sheen, taking care to arrange it around her shoulders. Though she often skipped makeup when she knew she wouldn’t be meeting with clients, today she did her full face. It might be Saturday, but she’d planned on working this morning, and she wouldn’t be dissuaded from doing her job just because she was embarrassed.
What had happened last night in the kitchenette had been the result of shock, hurt, and lust. A dangerous amount of lust, granted, but heavily flavored by other emotions.
At least if they’d had sex, she would’ve accomplished her goal and been done with it, but she hadn’t been thinking straight. Or at all.
She stared at the wall between her and Matt’s rooms. That’s what she should do. March over there before Tris woke up and just climb on top of Matt and finish the deal.
One popped cherry, one magnificent orgasm if she was lucky, and she’d be on her way.
Might as well demand what she needed from Matt. She knew how to make him see things her way. A few sweet words, a couple of descriptions of how wet and hot she’d been all night thinking about him putting more than just his tongue between her legs…
Plus this way Matt would see she was perfectly fine with the guys’ arrangement. They could keep screwing their brains out, and she wouldn’t make a peep.
Well, not fine, but not churned up either. The positive side of Matt and Tris sleeping together was that they had an outlet for all their kinky needs. Which meant there was absolutely no reason on God’s green earth for them to even concern themselves with her.
Then why did he say they had gotten together because they wanted you?
“Horndogs,” she muttered, slamming out of her section before she could think better of her decision to confront Matt.
It wasn’t her style to sit around and think until she got a headache. She dealt with situations. She’d deal with this one head-on too.
Rather than knock, she opened the door and marched into Matt’s living room, then straight on through to his bedroom. If Tris was in there with him, then, well—