I snort. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Do I? You’re so terrible with words, Broderick. I have to prod and prod and prod until you charge me, and then it’s all fucking and no communication. Can you blame me for provoking you?”
Not when she puts it like that. “You have a point. Get to it.”
“My point is that what we just did was fun. It was damn near seamless, and that kind of thing is worth its weight in gold when you’re having group sex. You both enjoyed yourselves. I enjoyed myself. There is no reason we shouldn’t do it again, preferably repeatedly for the next eleven months.”
Until she’s no longer my Bride.
Before, the thought filled me with nothing but relief and impatience. A year isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but every moment with Monroe frays my patience to dangerous levels of loss of control. Now…
No, it’s not complicated. I can’t let it be complicated.
It doesn’t matter if what happened in this bed with Shiloh felt so fucking right, I can barely put it into words. It doesn’t matter that having Monroe in my corner and aligned in my purpose was practically magic. At the end of this handfasting, I will still be glad to send her back to her faction for good.
Shiloh crosses her arms over her chest, which is doing a number on my ability to pretend we’re not all sitting here naked. “Maybe I came to this bed for you. And Broderick was fucking you. One could argue that we’re only attracted to you, not each other.”
“There you go with that lying mouth again.” Monroe sighs, but it’s almost mock exasperation in her tone. “I ought to wrap it around Broderick’s cock and see who’s attracted to who at that point.”
The air in the room gains a thickness and heat that makes me achingly aware of each inhale. “You can’t say shit like that.”
“And yet I just did.” She shakes her head. “Fine. Have it your way, you stubborn asses. You can both fuck me, sometimes together, and keep it at that. Are you happy?”
No. Of course not. I want Shiloh in every way, but I can recognize it for the selfish desire it is. If I use this situation to take advantage of things, I’ll be worse than a fucking monster. It takes everything I have to lock down my emotions and keep them out of my voice. “If that’s what Shiloh wants.”
“It’s the smart thing to do.” She slides off the bed, and I watch helplessly as she bends to grab the oversized sleep shirt off the floor.
I would give my right arm for good light to see her properly in this moment. To trace the curves and slopes of her naked body with my gaze in a way I’m not permitted to with my hands. Then again, maybe it’s for the best. Wanting Shiloh is one thing when we’re very clearly defined as friends. This thing with Monroe smudges those lines by definition. No need to erase them completely.
Shiloh pulls the shirt over her head and hurries to the couch. It a rush of motion, she yanks on her pants and practically dives beneath the covers. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I respond automatically.
No reason for the yawning feeling akin to loss in my chest. No good reason, at least. Of course, Shiloh wants to preserve what little distance she can between us. Of course, she wouldn’t want to share a bed with me for something as intimate as sleeping.
Of course.
A light touch to the center of my chest. I look down to find Monroe watching me. Her teeth flash in the low light, and she climbs onto her knees to whisper in my ear, “Have faith, husband.”
“I’m not your husband.” I’ve said it so many times, the response is more habit than anything else.
She twines her arms around my neck and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. She’s gone before I can decide if I want to welcome the contact or not, moving to her side of the bed and sliding beneath the covers.
Have faith.
In what? What is Monroe’s motivation for doing all this? That, more than anything, confuses me. I believe her attraction to Shiloh is genuine, and she seems to actually care for my best friend as well. Feelings that are mutual between both women as best I can tell.
But Monroe hates me. She has every reason to. Us colliding sexually a handful of times doesn’t change the fact that she’s been handfasted to me against her will. No matter what her motivations are now, she initially sought out Shiloh to hurt me.
I can’t trust her.
No matter how good the sex. No matter how perfect it felt to have our wills aligned instead of in conflict. No matter how much we both seem to want Shiloh.
Trusting Monroe is playing directly into her hands.
Chapter 18 Monroe
Shiloh is gone when I wake up the next morning. That doesn’t surprise me. The fact that Broderick is still in the room, however, does. He sits on the edge of the bed, his hair wet from the shower, and looks at me. “We have to work together.”
“To seduce Shiloh, yes.” I answer too quickly, maybe, but I don’t know how to deal with this newfound peace between us. It feels strange and fragile and I kind of want to smash it with a hammer so at least I know when to expect it to explode in my face.
He snorts. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Monroe. I meant what I said last night—you’re in danger if we can’t get our shit ironed out.”
Ah. That.
I sit up, letting the sheet fall to my waist, and can’t help the shiver of pleasure that goes through me when his attention drops to my breasts…and stays there. It would be the simplest thing in the world to provoke him, to
