Healing the Wounds Read online

  She fended him off, laughter sluicing fear from her mind and tension from her muscles. “Right now? You reek like a sweaty forest. Henry’s right.” Not much left to go downstairs but the futon. The lumpy, banged-up bed belonged to another lifetime. “We can leave this stuff for another day and you can hop in the shower.”

  Jay followed her gaze. “No, I can get it done. Today. Now.” He hustled over and hefted the floppy mattress.

  Bare, the frame revealed the long scrape where she’d lost her grip and dragged the damn thing on the pavement hauling it into her first apartment with no Jay to lend a hand. Exposing the bones of the bed the way Henry exposed hers, only he’d used gentle care and she never managed more than rough bluntness.

  “Won’t need this tonight.” Jay balanced the weight on his shoulder. “I’ll square it away downstairs. Come back for the frame.” He rushed past them out the door. “I’ll be done in time for dinner, Henry. Promise.”

  Footsteps echoed from the stairwell.

  His bouncing between moping and mania nagged at her. “Does he seem off to you?”

  “It’s an exciting day.” Henry lifted her hand and kissed the back. “And some small cause for nerves.” He tilted his head toward the futon frame.

  A lonely bed for a lonely woman who hadn’t recognized her loneliness until Henry and Jay poured love into the layers they’d scraped through to reach her. She tried to see the bed as Jay might. More than a job to finish to please Henry. “An escape clause,” she whispered. “He’s afraid I’ll back out.”

  “He’ll settle down, sweet girl.” Henry rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “His behavior is neither a reflection upon the reality of your emotions nor a lack of trust in your love for him.”

  No fucking way would she let their love go. She’d rope herself to them and growl a warning at anything trying to send her back to that place without them. “I’m not backing out.”

  Henry pulled her to face him. “This is not a race, Alice. It isn’t a test. It isn’t a competition of any sort. Do you remember what I told you the night of your anniversary dinner? If events move too quickly, we will stop and reassess.” He stood broad-shouldered and sturdy, his green-eyed gaze steady on her. “The words are as true now as they were then. You will never disappoint me by being honest with me.”

  “It’s not too fast for me. The timing was a surprise, yeah, but I want this.” She’d hit the right note. He didn’t worry she’d back out. He’d have contingency plans for that. And everything else on the planet. Giddiness tickled her throat. “I want you. I want Jay.” She stepped into his embrace.

  He hugged her close. “Shall we give our boy a hand? The sooner your belongings are settled, the sooner he will be as well.”

  * * * *

  Alice wiped down the table while Jay carried the last of the supper dishes to the dishwasher with the flair of a court jester. Clearing her apartment hadn’t slowed down her energetic lover. He’d start juggling plates in a minute if Henry didn’t stop him. No sign of Henry down the hall yet, but he’d been gone mere minutes.

  “Jay. Think fast.” She tossed the dishcloth.

  He snatched it out of the air left-handed.

  “Hang that on the faucet for me, will you?”

  He saluted and flashed a cheeky grin. “Day one and I’m already taking orders from my new roomie.”

  Shit. She’d meant it in fun, a little bit of practice, but she’d been ordering him around all day. “Jay, you know you don’t have—”

  “I’m not complaining. I swear I’m not.” He draped the washrag in the sink and hurried around the island. “I love having you here.” Close but not touching, he hovered beside her. “I’m happy to do whatever you want me to.”

  “Excellent.” Brown accordion folders tucked under his arm, Henry strode into the room. “Then you’ll be quite pleased with what I have here. If you’ve both finished your tasks, would you join me in the living room, please?”

  “Yes.” Jay sprinted past her. “Contract time?”

  “Contract time.” Henry sat on the couch and laid the folders on the coffee table. “Alice, come sit, please.”

  She settled in next to him.

  Grinning like a fool, Jay bunched up on the floor in a loose waiting pose and crossed his arms over Henry’s knees.

  “Our contracts are in those?” They hadn’t made an appearance last month when they’d added exclusivity and nightly dinners to her contract. Even with the additions, hers couldn’t total more than a dozen pages. The thinner folder was half an inch thick.

  “Among other things, yes.”

  “Other things?” Notes? Sketches? His insights on their likes and dislikes? He’d stacked his attention so neatly. The full extent of the seriousness with which he treated their needs.

  Henry kissed her temple. “Other things. Now, I’ve drafted an addendum concerning the second bedroom and the responsibilities the two of you will share in regards to it.”

  And she’d thought Jay worked fast. Henry must’ve been busy while she and Jay had organized the bedroom.

  Henry leaned forward, tousling Jay’s hair along the way, and retrieved two sheets of paper. “I’d like for you each to read it over, and then we will discuss what changes, if any, you’d care to propose.”

  She accepted her copy of the proposal, and Jay took his. Silence descended as they read.

  The morning’s nerves melted away, absorbed by a growing sense of security and confidence with each line. Henry hadn’t left her to muddle through on her own, to make a misstep and hurt Jay. Of course he hadn’t.

  Her responsibilities included conducting weekly spot checks at a time of her choosing. Surprise inspections. Jay would immediately correct any minor imperfections she noted. If she observed none or he corrected them to her satisfaction, she was free to praise him with whatever combination of verbal and physical affirmation she found appropriate. Excepting, of course, she wasn’t to employ toys without consulting Henry.

  Verbal and physical. A whistle echoed in her head. She and Jay had always been free to fool around, even without Henry, though they’d only done so once. Nothing comparable to her, in charge. A heady sort of power, but not unlimited.

  Should Jay fail to meet expectations and require corrective action—discipline—she was to bring her concerns to Henry. The decision to determine and impose a suitable punishment would remain his alone. Likewise, he’d arbitrate any disputes. Otherwise, he’d allow their little game to proceed without interference.

  Rights. Responsibilities. A clear chain of command.

  “I don’t have any objections, Henry.” This challenge she could accept. Something Jay craved from her. Something Henry trusted her to accomplish. “The language is fine as-is for me.”

  Jay heaved a vast sigh and sagged against Henry’s legs. “Me either. I was just waiting on Alice to say okay. She’s the one who has to make time to supervise me.”

  How like Jay to think of the deal backward. He was the one promising to complete chores. To follow her directions. He’d keep their room clean, and all she had to do was praise him for it. Although the thicker folder had to be Jay’s, and it neared three inches high.

  “Jay, if you’ll fetch a pen, please.”

  Jay dashed off to root in the kitchen junk drawer.

  “Nothing so exacting is required, my dear,” Henry said in an undertone. “It’s best to start simply. You won’t be required to make formal reports to me.” He stroked her back. “Merely enjoy yourselves.”

  This experiment wasn’t a project for work. Detailed notes might be overkill. Still. Picking up a notebook wouldn’t hurt. She’d track what she’d asked Jay to do. How well he’d accomplished it. The rewards she’d bestowed and his general satisfaction level with them. “It’ll be fun.”

  Henry chuckled. “An elaborate system is already taking shape in your mind, no doubt.”

  She tipped her head onto his shoulder. “You know me too well.”

  “Blasphemy.” He nuzzled
her hair. “I could never know you too well. Though you may be assured I’m making the attempt.”

  He thanked Jay for the pen, and the three of them signed. She resisted the urge to peek as Henry slipped the sheets into their folders.

  Jay replaced the pen.

  Henry left the room to put away the folders wherever folders went. The special dresser’s drawers did have locks.

  She sat alone on the couch. Saturday night. Not even nine thirty. Henry might expect playtime when he returned. She lifted her feet and curled her legs to her chest.

  Last night had been fun until it turned into a clusterfuck. Could’ve been worse, though. The spanking he’d given her had probably been the bare minimum. It had been bare, all right. The entire room had witnessed her bawling like a baby. For ten swats.

  As if she hadn’t gotten three times that on her birthday. Although those had been for fun, with rubbing and touching between spanks and with her own arousal as the goal.

  Henry emerged from the hall. He might ask now. Or demand. She’d given him that right. Her first real night with them as a full-time, live-in lover should be something to celebrate. She’d never told him no.

  A drawn-out hum, descending, proved to be Jay yawning. Ever-fidgety, full-of-energy Jay leaned against the dining room table with drooping eyelids and a sleepwalker’s posture. “Henry?”

  “Yes, my boy?” He changed course without pause to stop beside Jay. “Is there something you need?”

  “Just sleepy. I figured I’d go to bed early. If that’s okay.”

  Henry laid a pale hand against Jay’s tanned cheek. “Of course. You’ve worked hard today, my dear boy. Go on and get ready for bed, and Alice and I will join you shortly.”

  Jay squirmed, half nodding.

  Henry studied him in silence for a long moment. “Perhaps it’s a good night for story time. ‘To me, you will be unique in all the world,’ hmm?”

  Jay’s eyes widened. He grinned, head bobbing. “Yes, please, Henry.” He shot a glance her way, and his smile dimmed. “I mean, if Alice doesn’t mind having story time.”

  Pfft. As if she’d deny Jay something he so obviously adored. Besides, story time meant she wouldn’t need to find a polite way to turn down sex. “I liked our last story time. It’ll be tough to beat Winnie-the-Pooh, though.”

  Jay opened his mouth.

  Henry tugged on his hair. “She’ll find out soon enough. The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat.”

  The words weren’t familiar. They both stared at her.

  Jay kissed Henry’s cheek. “Thank you for the wasted time, Henry.”

  “My responsibility, brave boy. Forever.” Henry gave him a gentle push. “Off to bed.”

  Jay hustled down the hall, and Henry came to collect her from the couch. “Thank you, Alice, for indulging us tonight.” He enfolded her in his arms as she stood. “My lovely roses.”

  He’d completely lost her.

  Henry led her by the hand to the bedroom before going to collect the book. When they’d all brushed their teeth, used the bathroom, and shucked their clothes, she and Jay cuddled close on either side of Henry. The Little Prince. Not a story she’d read before, but Henry’s voice was sure to make it a favorite.

  “…All grown-ups were once children…”

  Chapter 2

  Alice stared blankly at the television.

  She didn’t think Jay was watching, either, and Henry sure as hell wasn’t. He held a magazine, an art journal of some kind, and he occasionally turned a page. Sometimes she watched his hands just to watch them. He sat in the chair angled toward the couch, at the far end from where her head and Jay’s lay.

  It wasn’t an unfamiliar after-dinner scene for them in the last week. But it was strange. The wrongness persisted despite Henry’s sensitivity to their emotional upheaval. The extremes as Jay cycled between cheerful excitement at having her sharing the apartment with them and uncomfortable distance in bed, even with Henry. He professed to being uninterested, shrugging away anything beyond light kissing, yet he acted desperate for closeness, never more than three feet from her or Henry, both if possible.

  Though she and Jay shared the couch, they hardly touched. He hadn’t tried to kiss her. Hadn’t tried to grope her. Hadn’t even wrapped an arm around her, for all that he lay on his side behind her. No, his right hand propped up his head and his left formed an unmoving, featherlight weight on her waist. He acted like a sixth grader at his first slow dance.

  Her, too.

  Equally skittish, she hadn’t scooted back against his groin or tangled their legs or even rested her head on his chest. The distance grew every time they shifted and accidentally touched. He hadn’t gotten hard all night so far as she could tell, unnatural for him in general but perfectly in line with his behavior this week. She couldn’t understand it, that he hadn’t wanted her sexually all week but could be so desperate for her attention and Henry’s every evening, and yet she felt it, too.

  She was starting to wonder if his discomfort was more than encountering his tormenter last Friday. If it was her, somehow. Her thoughts churned in an endless loop of dropping confidence, rising shame, and paralyzing confusion.

  She wanted Henry and Jay to desire her. But she didn’t want them to touch her. Not as men, not when that sonuvabitch Cal’s voice rang in her head. No—no, she did want them to touch her. She ached to erase that voice and make them feel good, too, to know she could. Only she needed a way that didn’t bring confusion and shame and whatever she was so damn afraid of. Arousing them. Not arousing them.

  The problem wouldn’t fix itself. She lacked the courage to address it. God knew Jay wouldn’t. He kept jumping away as if he didn’t want his cock touching her, hard or not. The overwhelming emotional dance made an escape across the hall tempting.

  She hadn’t informed the super of her move yet. Even with her stuff here now, her apartment—

  “Alice. Jay.” Henry had been tender all week, comforting them with snuggling and story time. Now his voice snapped with command.

  “Both of you, into my bedroom.” He laid his magazine on the side table and checked his watch without even a glance in their direction. “You have three minutes to be naked and kneeling on the bed in your waiting pose. Side by side, not touching.”

  Terror and exhilaration warred in her, kept her frozen in place until Jay’s breath gusted against her hair. He needed this, too. He wouldn’t find his courage if she couldn’t find hers first.

  She swung her legs off the couch and stood.

  “Good girl, Alice, thank you.”

  Henry’s praise was warm. Maybe he’d seen the nervous tic in her legs. She forced herself to walk to his bedroom, aware of his quiet praise to Jay before footsteps followed her.

  She stopped at the edge of the bed and pulled her shirt over her head with trembling fingers. Ridiculous. She’d slept naked in this bed all week without sexual contact. Three months ago she’d believed herself incapable of spending a night in their bed without having sex with them. Now she’d done it seven nights running.

  Congratulations. She’d killed the passion in the relationship. What would she do for an encore?

  She turned her back to Jay and undressed. He was faster, positioning himself on the bed as she unhooked her bra and pushed her underwear to the floor. She felt exposed. Uncomfortably so. But when she turned to sit, he averted his gaze. He couldn’t look at her. Or didn’t want to. And she didn’t know if she wanted him to.

  They knelt in silence. Her heart thumped. Waiting for Henry was torture. Longer than three minutes. Had to be.

  * * * *

  Henry stalked them, circling the foot of the bed with slow, careful steps. “I’ve been lax with you both this week. Hoping you would come to me with these troubling feelings you mistakenly believe you’ve been hiding so well. But neither of you has done so, have you? No.”

  His judgment stung with pinpoint ac
curacy.

  “You’ve chosen avoidance.” Henry nodded toward Jay and turned narrowed eyes at her. “And paralyzing numbness.”

  She hung her head to avoid the disappointment sure to be in his face. But his silence drew her in, and his undressing held her there. Henry often emphasized that distance, directing them while he remained fully clothed. Now he folded his clothes neatly on the chair and came to stand at the end of the bed. Nude.

  He wasn’t aroused, not yet. Soft, wrinkled skin dangling amid brown hair offered no menace. She rubbed the sheets, the smooth silk a damn dissatisfying stand-in for the vulnerable man who deserved her embrace.

  Until his cock rippled and grew and resettled, beginning to stiffen. She clutched at the sheets, folds of cobalt blue bunching between her fingers. Her knees trembled. Her pounding heart urged her to run for no reason at all.

  “Alice.” Henry spoke in the coaxing tone he used when he wanted her to try something new. “Up on your knees, Alice.” The gentle one with the firm undertone accepting her fear but telling her she’d take his suggestion anyway, because he had faith in her even when she didn’t. “Come here to the edge of the bed.”

  Too high for intercourse. Far out of position for a blowjob. The added height of Henry’s bed, perfect for bending her over, now placed her face nearly level with his.

  He cupped her cheek.

  “Nice and slow, Alice.” His murmur wrapped her in comfort, cozy and sensual and safe. The low, intimate voice of love she craved. “Jay. Watch, please.”

  He kissed her. Searching, molding his lips to hers, mouths opening, his tongue stroking. His kiss wasn’t pushy or demanding, the way she’d seen some submissives treated at the club. But it was intense. Passionate.

  Arousal sparked through her nerves like circuits reconnecting after a thrown breaker in a power outage.

  Not frightening. And the singular voice in her head was Henry’s.

  “Touch, Alice.” He clasped her hands and raised them to his chest, pressing her fingers flat. “Touch me. Here only, dearest.”