Andy and Sean are going to join their lover Lea at the theater where she works — but are they going to watch a show, or are they going to be the show?
This trio is taking things to the next level in every sense, and Lea thinks that's wonderful... But what about the neighbors? And her co-workers? And — gulp — what about Sean's mom?
She and her boys are finding that as complex as their relationship is, that's nothing to trying to explain it to the outside world.
(FMM ménage à trois, threesome erotic romance, male bisexuality, bondage, theater/workplace sex, anal sex, pegging, Novella: 20,000 words. adult readers 18+ only!)
The news story showed firefighters using the jaws of life to peel the roof off of one of the cars; it was crumpled like a beer can. As one of the firefighters reached through the hole, the one who had been handling the pneumatic cutter turned toward the camera. She’d have recognized that dimpled chin anywhere: Andy. The other firefighter turned and shouted something. Square jaw. Eyes that were blue even through the face mask. Sean.
They looked grim.
They’d be headed home now — showered off, but still smelling of the ghosts of smoke and gasoline and adrenaline.
Pursing her lips, Lea picked up her phone and texted them: Just saw you on TV. The accident. Okay?
She’d expected a reply from Andy, because Sean usually drove them home. Instead, it was Sean who answered: No. Not really OK. Bad day at the office.
No kidding, thought Lea. It was always hard for the boys whenever they couldn’t save someone. But a little girl? She texted back: So sorry. ETA?
Traffic sucks, came the answer. Half hour?
I’ll be waiting, Lea answered. Can I take your minds off your troubles?
PLEASE.
Then, a few seconds later, Andy says f—k yes.
Well then, I will give you the heroes’ welcome you deserve.
A pause and then: Not heroes. Not today.
Yes you were. Yes you are. You are my heroes every day.
Sean didn’t respond to that.
Damnity-damn-damn, she thought.
Lea found herself looking around. Considering.
Lasagna in the oven. A salad for Lea and Sean ready in the fridge; green beans boiled to hell the way that Andy liked them warming on the stove. Three glasses of good rye whiskey on the counter.
But their hunger wouldn’t turn to their stomachs for a while.
She texted one last time: I promise, I will help make you feel much better. I have a surprise for you.
With a nod, Lea downed her shot — to give her courage — dropped her robe to the floor, and went to prepare.
