Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Ooh, can I?” Gena put a little hop in her step as she came over. “What do I push?”
“The bar is… Type in zero-one-three, I think. Then, press talk.” I went to her side, in case she needed help, but she operated it like a pro.
“Boys? Oh, boys?” she said, enunciating “boys” as two syllables. “Your lovely women have put dinner on the table.”
Sharing a meal with Ian and Gena was like spending time with old friends. Maybe it was because they actually were Neil’s friends. But it was different than being around Valerie and Rudy. They were more like family to Neil, so they knew way too much about our personal business, and for me, being around them was like being on trial. We had different boundaries with Ian and Gena, and it was a refreshing change.
“So, Sophie. I know you work at a magazine—” Ian began.
Neil cut him off. “Sophie actually founded the magazine, and she’s co-editor-in-chief.”
“My friend Deja is my partner,” I added.
“Ah. Apologies.” He turned to Neil. “And you’re retired, so you’re a boring old arsehole. What about you, Sophie? How do you spend your time, what do you like to do?”
“When I had free time, I liked to smoke pot and watch stupid movies,” I said with a shrug. “And shop.”
“And force me to watch stupid movies, as well,” Neil said with a chuckle.
“What about you guys?” I asked, sitting a little straighter in my seat.
“Well, I am an interior decorator,” Gena said, lazily swinging her hand on her wrist to gesture at herself.
“And I am an architect.” Ian reached for the bottle of wine and poured himself a second glass. “And I dabble in some drawing on the side.”
“He’s downplaying.” Gena rolled her eyes. “He’s a very successful artist.”
“What kind of art?” Neil lifted his arm and rested it along the back of my chair.
“Portraiture, mostly. Figure drawing. Anything that doesn’t require a computer and loads of fucking math.”
“Maybe we could see some of your work sometime?” I suggested. “It would give us an excuse to get together again.”
“Oh, you don’t need an excuse, love. You can come and see us any time.” Ian said with a wink.
The food was fantastic. Julia had really outdone herself. I could have easily eaten myself into a food stupor, if I hadn’t been keeping the other possibilities of the evening in mind.
Everyone else must have been thinking the same thing, because at the end of the meal they all declined my offer of dessert.
Gena cleared her throat. “So, Sophie and I were talking while you two were off playing your traditionally masculine roles.”
“I assume you were talking about the same thing we were,” Neil said, and though he smiled, the air took on a tense, delicious charge.
My stomach fluttered.
“We discussed the possibility of…having a little fun together.” Ian leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table. “But we laid down some parameters. I know this would be your first time, Sophie, and I don’t want you to feel,” he turned his hand over and back, as though he were turning the page of a book, “and Neil, obviously, agrees—”
“We don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want to do,” Neil interrupted, for the sake of coherence, I assume.
“Oh, um.” How did I phrase this with Neil right next to me? Ian ran the tip of his middle finger around the rim of his wine glass absently as he listened, and I couldn’t look him in the eye. “I wouldn’t be…averse…to, um.”
“Sophie?” Neil asked, a note of humor in his voice, and I realized that he’d noticed my intense concentration on Ian’s hands. I raised my eyes guiltily and caught Neil’s smirk.
“Well, you two spoke about it in more depth than we did,” Gena said with a sigh. “But I agree, Sophie, you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“No one will be disappointed if we just have a lovely dinner,” Neil reassured me, and I knew what he was really telling me: he wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t have sex with Gena.
That made me feel a lot better. Knowing that the two of them were a “package deal”, as Neil had once referred to them, it was only natural that Neil might worry I felt obligated to sleep with Ian so he and Gena could hook up.
How to approach this and reassure them, though, was still a delicate question. Did I just up and say, “Gena, I want to fuck your husband?” Would they believe me if I tried to couch it in more cautious language.
I settled for, “Why wouldn’t I want to do it?”
Ian’s slow smile made me shift in my chair and press my thighs together.
“Well,” Gena said, her gaze sliding from me to settle on Neil. “If we’re all in…”