Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
The downside is that I’m wracked with guilt every time I talk to one of my bosses, but somehow that guilt gets pushed aside when I’m with Griffin, Zeb, or Frank.
I say or, because ever since that first night, there haven’t been any more group activities—not of the intimate variety. We still share meals, carpool, and sometimes play cards together, but sex is always one-on-one, because that seems to be how they want it.
I’m not complaining—I’m ridiculously happy being with the three of them—but the situation leaves me compelled to make sure I’m splitting my time equally among them.
Occasionally, Zeb grumbles about sharing me, but he’s joking—I think.
Overall, he grumbles much less than he used to, Frank smiles more, and Griffin’s even happier than his typical good mood.
Together, they’re a perfect blend of men, except for the fact that I can’t enjoy them together, not when it comes to fun in the bedroom. I’m sure it’s nothing like the arrangements my friends have with their men, but that’s okay, since this is all temporary.
With effort, I drag my focus to my schoolwork. There’s one more hour left in the workday, and all three men are working on clients, so I should be able to do a little studying before it’s time to leave.
When I log in, I’m reminded that I haven’t checked my grades lately, and I used to monitor them daily. I took a quiz last week and never even bothered to look for my grade.
A wave of panic flutters through me when I find it: a big fat B. Sure, one B isn’t going to hurt my overall grade, but I’ve always maintained a high GPA, and I know I wasn’t as prepared for the quiz as I should have been.
I can’t let that become a habit. If I don’t course correct, I could ruin everything, destroy my future and all the hard work I’ve put in.
Thanks to my nighttime activities, I’m not getting enough sleep, and that’s not doing my classwork any good either. I really need to end things with the men, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. Being with them all day and night doesn’t make it any easier.
I’ve kept up with scanning the ads for roommates, but it’s surprisingly difficult to find a situation that works for me. I took for granted how lucky I got with Abby; most of the ads I see that are in my price range would require me to share a room with someone, or they’re for places too far away from the shop, or my housemates would be a bunch of guys.
I’m definitely not putting myself in that situation again.
As I’m reviewing the quiz answers to see where I messed up, a giggle cuts into my focus.
“Ooh. Ow, Zeb! Oh, that hurts so good!”
Our divorced client Jennifer is here again. This third visit completes a goal she shared with me the last time she was here: to try out all the men to find out who she likes best.
She seems to be enjoying Zeb quite a bit.
I scan down my screen, but more than half of my attention is on Jennifer, who’s been talking nearly nonstop since she arrived. I didn’t think her presence would bother me the way it did when she got inked by Griffin, because Zeb isn’t as naturally flirtatious—or even as talkative—as Griffin, but I was wrong.
“You are so talented,” she coos. “All of you men are. When I’m at home, I stand naked in front of the mirror and think about where I want one of you to put my next tattoo.”
I lay my tablet down. I’ll have to find time to worry about schoolwork later.
“I’ve built up my pain tolerance so much,” Jennifer says as Zeb’s machine buzzes away. “What you’re doing hurts, but it hurts so good. I’m getting kind of turned on, actually.”
What the hell? Before I can think, I’m on my feet.
ZEB
“Zeb, I’m sorry to interrupt, but could you come over to my desk? There’s something I need to show you.”
It’s highly unusual for Ember to interrupt me when I’m working, and my first reaction is concern about what the issue is—but then I notice the way her eyes keep darting between me and my client. The way she looks down when she catches me noticing confirms it: she’s jealous!
I’m surprised… and pleased … and then surprised by how pleased I am.
I’ve never wanted a woman to feel possessive toward me. I’ve rarely stuck around long enough for that to even be a possibility, but Ember feeling like I’m hers? Something about that makes me smile.
I tell my client to take a break and follow Ember back to reception, trying to hide my smirk. “What’s up?”
“I, um … needed to ask you something about your schedule for next week.”