I stare at Cyrus, my heart pounding. He just smiles slowly, not taking his eyes off me.
“I—” I look down, feeling my cheeks flush.
The answer is yes. I have fantasised about it. There’s something about the idea of being completely surrounded by men, hemmed in and filled on all sides, getting touched all over, that makes my stomach throb with need.
I never thought it would happen, though. I never even entertained the idea. And now, I have two incredibly hot men sitting next to me, giving me very clear we want to spit-roast you until you can’t walk or speak for a week signals, and I have no idea how to react.
A flash of heat washes over my whole body. I can feel my dress sticking to my skin with sweat. My heart is beating so hard it hurts.
“Hey,” Jack says softly, sliding a little closer on my right side. His arm presses up against mine. I breathe in the clean scent of his detergent, feeling a fluttery pinch between my legs. “Is this too much?” He asks, quietly. “If we’re making you uncomfortable—”
“No,” I blurt out. I’m not uncomfortable. I’m overwhelmed. I’ve been overwhelmed since the second I walked through the door. The energy in the room right now is fucking electric. These boys are offering me a sex dream on a platter, and I just can’t process it.
I take a deep breath. I need to pull myself together. “I’m fine,” I insist. “Um, what’s the dare?”
Cyrus’s dark eyes meet mine. “Strip,” he commands.
I freeze.
He laughs, a low, rich sound. “I’m just kidding. Well, no. I’m not.” He slides his hand up my back, cupping his palm behind my head. His fingers play with the clip in my hair. “Take this off,” he says quietly.
I lick my dry lips. “Take my hair down? That’s not a very good dare.”
His eyes sparkle in the candlelight. “Figured I’d start you off small.”
Oh God. “Am I going to be naked by the end of this game?”
“That’s generally my main goal, yeah.” He rubs the nape of my neck. I tip my head back, letting him slide his fingers into my hair, and he finds the clip, unclasping it. Curls fall down around my face, and he sifts through them, making me shiver. “Your turn,” he murmurs.
I take a deep gulp of wine, thinking. “Um. Okay. What’s your biggest regret?”
He flinches. “Jesus, woman. You’re meant to ask if I’ve ever shagged someone in an aeroplane, or had an orgy, or something.”
“You said you wanted us to get to know each other,” I point out. “And I already know you’ve had an orgy.”
He looks disgusted. “I think you’re misunderstanding. I don’t fuck Jack or Seb. Just whatever pretty lady we happen to be sharing.” He grimaces. “God. I’m way out of their leagues.”
“Hey,” Jack says mildly.
“Mate, no offence, but dressing like an extra off The Big Bang Theory isn’t exactly doing you any favours. Buy a tailored suit and I’ll think about it.”
I snort, picking up a breadstick. “I don’t have a tailored suit.”
“Honey, you could dress in a bin bag and I’d fancy you.”
I smile, sopping up some sauce. “Either way, I’m sticking with my question. I don’t want to know about your sex life. I wanna know about you.”
I really do. Cyrus is still an enigma to me. It’s funny; out of the three men, he seems to be the most open. He’s chatty and flirty and tactile. But even though he’s easy to talk to, all of our conversations have been surface-level. Whenever I ask him a serious question, he brushes it off with a joke or an innuendo. Earlier today, when I assumed he didn’t have a job, he was obviously hurt, but he still didn’t tell me what he does for a living. I think maybe, underneath his shield of charm, he’s the most secretive of them all.
He looks taken aback. “Dare,” he says.
I consider. “Drink a whole bottle of Cami’s formula milk.”
He frowns. “Babe. You’re shit at this game. You’re supposed to pick something sexy.” He nods at the dish of olive oil by the bread basket. “Want me to take my shirt off so you can rub that into my abs?” He offers enticingly.
I stand. “I’ll warm up her bottle.”
“Oh, God no.” He catches my hand and tugs me back down, pulling me against his side again. “Fine. Jesus.” His face darkens as he thinks. I pop an olive in my mouth, watching. “I guess… fighting with my family?” He says eventually. “I fell out with them a few years ago, and. Well. If I could undo that, I would.”
“What happened?” I ask quietly.
He picks up his wine glass and takes a deep swallow. “You can’t ask two questions,” he reminds me. “Jack?”
Jack smiles at me. “Why did you become a nanny?”
Cyrus throws up his hands in exasperation. “Why do neither of you understand that Truth or Dare is basically just foreplay?” He complains. “It’s an excuse to talk about what turns you on, and gradually remove items of clothing. That’s why it was invented.”
“I wanna know,” Jack insists.
“Well.” I think. “I told you that I grew up in the foster system.” Cy stiffens on my left. I look down at my plate. “I was raised with a lot of other children, and I’ve helped to look after babies ever since I was a kid. It just seemed natural to make a career out of it.”
Jack nods, eating another mouthful. “That makes sense. You’re a natural with Cami.”
Cyrus tugs at the hem of my dress. “I didn’t know you were adopted,” he says quietly.
“Fostered,” I correct, reaching out and patting his hand. “And it would be a bit weird if you did.”
He twists his hand, pressing our palms together and lacing our fingers. It’s such a sweet gesture my stomach flips.
“Um.” I shake my hair back, flustered. “My turn, right?” I turn to Jack. “So, um. How did you get started with this foursome thing?”
He cuts into his pasta. “It was back in university. We met in Com Sci classes, and we were all living in a shared apartment.”
“You went to uni together?” I didn’t know Cyrus had a degree. “All three of you?”
“Yep. Even me,” Cy says, a hint of sharpness in his voice. I frown, squeezing his fingers, and he relaxes again.
“We met a girl the year we graduated,” Jack says. “She was called Chloe. A trainee nurse. She was kind, and sweet, and gorgeous, so naturally, we fell in love with her.” He shrugs. “It just worked out well. Seb and I were working such long hours. I’ve had girlfriends complain before, that they’re not getting enough attention. And it always made me feel shitty. The last thing I want is to neglect my partner. But at the same time, it’s just the way my brain works. When I’m in that coding zone, I need to stay there for a solid few hours.” He takes a sip of wine. “The same thing was true for Sebastian. And Cy—”
“I just like watching girls get off,” Cyrus chips in by my shoulder.
I blink at him. “Really?”
He smiles. “Girls tend to be a lot more… stimulated, when they have multiple guys focussing on them. It’s very nice to watch.”
“Ignore him,” Jack says drily. “He was more in love with Chloe than any of us.”
Cyrus tosses him a black look.
I take a bite of pasta. “So what happened?”
“Nothing terrible,” Jack says. “She had a pregnancy scare. For a couple of months, we thought we were going to have a kid.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Shit.”
He nods. “We agreed that, when the kid was born, we’d all share parental duties. We’d all act as the kid’s dads. It only seemed fair, since we were all dating her.”
“But she wasn’t pregnant?”
Jack shakes his head. “False positive. According to the doctor, a medication that she was taking was screwing up the tests. But the whole ordeal made her realise that this isn’t what she wanted, long term. She wanted a regular nuclear family. One dad, one mum, two-point-five kids and a dog. It hurt like shit to let her go, but we couldn’t really begrudge her that.”
I’m confused. “She didn’t want to pick one of you?”
“That’s just not how the relationship worked. The dynamic needed all three of us to balance each other out.”
“My raw sexuality is too potent undiluted,” Cyrus explains. “It could probably strike a girl dead.”
I snort, twisting the last bite of linguine around my fork. “I see. That’s very thoughtful of you.” I eat my last mouthful, then stretch out on the cushions, fully satisfied. “That was great,” I mumble. “I think I need a nap now.”
Cyrus’s lip twists. Jack leans across the blanket and picks up a white bakery box I hadn’t noticed. “Room for dessert? Cy got cannoli.” He flips open the lid of the box, revealing twelve rolls of pastry bursting with whipped cream and pistachios and chocolate chips. My mouth immediately starts watering. I sit up.
“Yeah, well, maybe I have some space,” I decide, and they both laugh. Jack picks one up and offers it to me.
“Careful. It’s messy,” he murmurs. His eyes have darkened to inky blue, dancing in the candlelight. In the background, the Beatles croon ‘Something’ over the scratchy record player.
Slowly, I lean forward, letting him feed me from his fingers. The hard pastry cracks under my teeth, and warm, sweet cream explodes into my mouth.
At the same time, Cyrus dips closer, pressing his lips to the crook of my neck. Heat floods through me. He smiles against my skin, blowing a warm breath over my ear, and I gasp, pressing my thighs together. It’s probably the most sensual moment of my life.
I’m so distracted, I don’t even hear the heavy footsteps sprinting down the hallway, or the jangle of keys in the lock.
