A Turn of the Screwed, Page 2

  She’d often wondered, more than a few times, if she hadn’t accidentally been swapped at birth. That maybe there was a conservative woman stuck in a hippy-dippy, liberal, atheist family, and who’d suffered the same amount of converse misery Noel had in her lifetime.

  It was no wonder she wanted to move to Florida when she’d graduated from college. Escaping the miserable winters and even more miserable familial chill.

  And then she’d met Scott and thought her life was complete.

  And now…

  “How sad does it make me,” Noel quietly said, “that I’m less upset by the fact that he’s going out to possibly meet up with a guy? If it was a woman, we’d be in divorce court already. But…” She stared at her bottle of beer again for a moment. “If he’s willing to stay married, and it’s just guys, I’m actually not totally un-okay with that.”

  Eliza snorted. “Honey, you aren’t the first or last het woman to be intrigued by guy-on-guy sex. It’s sexy. I think it’s sexy.”

  “What if Rusty came to you and dropped that bomb on you?”

  “I don’t know. Hypothetically, I could agree to him being poly with just guys, if he only wanted to get his freak on and do it safely and come home to me. I know that’s a one-vagina policy and it’s not necessarily healthy for a long-term relationship’s success, but I’m not into girls, so it’s not like it could be a reciprocal thing.”

  Eliza took another sip of her tea. “I am kind of pervy. I’d probably ask to watch or even sit in if the other guy was okay with it. Who knows? I might even make it a condition that he could bring guys home as long as I got to be the filling in the sandwich.” She smiled. “But then again, as I said, I’m a perv. And I have an adult daughter who no longer lives at home. We’re older than you and Scott and at a different time in our lives. I know you wanted kids.”

  “I still do,” Noel said.

  “Well…” Eliza tightened her grip around Noel’s shoulders. “Then I guess you need to make a decision sooner rather than later, don’t you? You’re thirty-three. You’re not getting any younger. Scott’s what, thirty-seven? It wouldn’t be fair to bring a baby into a situation where you’re going to get divorced in a couple of years. If you both want to co-parent, and put some stuff down on legal paper ahead of time to prevent problems down the road, okay, then go for it. Don’t think dumping a baby into the current stew you’re in is going to help or fix things. It won’t. It’ll shake things up and make things exponentially worse if you don’t have a solid foundation in place.”

  “I know.” Noel lowered her head, chin on her chest. “I want him to be happy. I want to make him happy.”

  “Honey, you can’t make someone happy. You can do things to make them unhappy, sure. True happiness comes from within. Just like he can’t make you happy.”

  “But he’s making me unhappy right now.”

  “I know, sweetie. I know. And that’s something you have to figure out how to deal with. On the plus side, if it makes you feel any better, I respect him for dealing with this with you honestly, and not just sneaking around behind your back. Not to discredit or invalidate your feelings, but it could be worse.”

  Yes, it could always be worse, and Noel was fully aware of that.

  She leaned against Eliza. “I know I could put my foot down and order him to stop, but I don’t want to do that.”

  “Then don’t do that. You don’t have to make a decision now. See what happens. Who knows? Maybe he’ll bring home someone cute and you can check something off your sexual bucket list.”

  Noel stared at her.

  “Hey,” Eliza said. “You wouldn’t be the first or last woman to enjoy a ménage. I have poly friends. You know some of them. The whole ‘having your cake’ thing. I say if it works, go with it. There are no ‘rules’ you need to worry about breaking. It’s your life, your marriage. Quit worrying about the Indiana faction and worry about you and Scott and your happiness. He might surprise you.”

  “Yeah, but will it be a surprise I can live with?”

  Chapter Two

  Scott sat at one of the bars in the Toucan’s courtyard. Each bar at the resort had a different theme, and this one was the Tiki Hut. He’d opted for shorts and a T-shirt and sat off at one end of the bar where he could watch the activities in the courtyard and the pool.

  There were guys of all shapes and sizes and ages, from barely legal twinks to elderly bears, and everything in between. It was a smorgasbord of men.

  All he had to do was find his own balls and figure out how to approach any of them.

  When he’d first heard about this event, he thought it’d be the perfect way to finally break through, maybe meet someone. He wasn’t much for online dating, although that option was growing more attractive the longer his search continued.

  Then again, maybe he shouldn’t be here at all. It didn’t matter that he had Noel’s permission and blessing, this whole situation wasn’t fair to her.

  Maybe I should give her a divorce and get it over with.

  But that would put her in a damned bad place with her asshole family. The conservative pricks would be all over her, the “I told you so’s” flying faster than the speed of spite.

  He didn’t want to do that to her.

  He also envied some of the people he knew from Venture and the munch group, like Tilly, Landry, and Cris. Or Cali, Sean, and Max. They had three-way poly relationships that worked for them, all three of them involved with each other.

  That’s a unicorn I doubt I could find.

  In his dreams—which he would be the absolute first person to admit were nothing approaching even remotely realistic—he’d find a bi guy who would also fall for Noel, Noel would fall right back for him, and the three of them could live kinkily ever after.

  Maybe if this was a romance novel…

  He sipped his overpriced drink, a weak rum and Coke—weak by his request—and continued scanning the courtyard. Well, he’d have a whole weekend here to see if this was really what he wanted. For all he knew, the experience might send him running back to the safety of Noel’s arms with whatever wild oats he’d sown safely purged from his system.

  Although even he admitted that was also a highly unrealistic wish. He was definitely bi with a heavy leaning toward the gay side of the spectrum. He’d never wanted to admit to Noel that he usually fantasized about other guys when they made love. He thought it was a phase he’d grow out of. But the longer he was married to Noel, with her trying her hardest and damnedest, the more he realized it wasn’t fair to her.

  It wasn’t her fault.

  He also knew from his job that life was too short not to live authentically, or to keep Noel chained to him with a loving lie, either. He didn’t want to be in his late seventies and mourning the fact that he’d never pursued true happiness, that he’d settled and cheated Noel out of the best possible person for her, too.

  He thought about texting her, to check on her, but he didn’t want to bug her or make things worse for her. He knew she was going out with Eliza and Kennedy tonight and hoped they, at least, would keep her mind off him and what he was doing.

  Well, what he hoped to be doing but as of yet hadn’t found the balls to do.

  At least her waking up alone wouldn’t be a problem. After ten years of him working in the 911 call center, Noel was used to his sometimes draconian shifts, including all-nighters when necessary. Although summer would be worse, if they were still in their current state of relationship limbo.

  Then, she didn’t have to get up every morning and go to work at the school. She didn’t usually teach summer school, either, his salary enough to get them through those months without her needing to work part-time. In fact, she usually used summer for continuing education classes, working on requirements for her teaching certificate, things like that.

  He was still sitting there, pondering that, when a young twink, probably not much older than twenty-one, sauntered up to him and slid onto the empty barstool next to him. The kid had
what looked like a cocky, permanent snerk twisting the right corner of his mouth, a sneering smirk that spoke volumes of him and his expectations. In his hand, a froufrou tropical cocktail of some sort.

  Geez, I’m probably almost old enough to be his dad, for chrissake.

  Yeah, that creeped him out.

  “Hi,” the kid said. “Tad.” He held out his hand and Scott realized, despite the high level and unusual angle, he was expected to shake with him.

  Scott did, already turned off by the kid. “Hiya. Scott.”

  “So, I’ve never seen you around here before.” He batted his eyes at Scott as he wrapped his lips around the straw of his tropical concoction in a deliberately salacious way.

  “It’s my first time here.” Might as well admit it. While he normally didn’t have a problem talking to people, even strangers, he’d found himself lacking the motivation or intestinal fortitude to walk up to guys cold and start talking.

  “This should be a crazy weekend,” Tad said, rolling his eyes. “So where’d you tell your wife you are this weekend?”

  Scott blinked, shocked. “Huh?”

  Tad tipped his head and nodded toward Scott’s left hand. “The ring. Or are you already taken and your guy doesn’t know you’re here?”

  Scott couldn’t bring himself to remove his ring right then. “Wife. She knows I’m here for the weekend.”

  “Ooh, that is kinky. Does she like to watch?” Tad leaned in. “I like being watched.”

  This had taken a decidedly uncomfortable turn for Scott, yet he still couldn’t force himself off the barstool. He felt like a foreigner in a strange country where he not only didn’t speak the language, the culture was so vastly different from what he knew that he felt he stood out like a cockroach in an angel food cake.

  I need a fairy godfather. Literally.

  “It’s…complicated,” Scott finally answered.

  “It usually is. Sometimes it’s better that way.”

  Scott endured Tad’s attention for several more minutes before another twink called the kid’s name and waved at him to come over to the high-top he and several others were standing around.

  Scott took that as his cue to escape, grabbing his drink and sliding off the barstool, spinning around to dash down the stairs behind him, when he nearly ran smack into another guy.

  Now this guy, he was cute. Close to his own age, about three inches taller than his own six one, fine lines at the corners of his mocha-brown eyes, short brown hair with just a sprinkling of grey here and there, and a decent body. He wore cargo shorts and was shirtless, a short tat sleeve on his left arm starting at his shoulder and ending at his upper bicep in a chain tattoo with a BDSM triskelion on it.

  “Sorry,” Scott said, jamming his left hand into his pocket.

  The guy smiled. “No problem.” It was an easy, friendly smile. Confident. “Too bad you’re leaving.”

  “The twinks are swarming.”

  The guy glanced around him. “Ah. I understand. Want to walk over there and sit where it’s a little quieter? Get out of the kiddie pool, so to speak?” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the modern, glass-blocked bar at the other end of the pool courtyard area.

  “Sure. Sounds great.”

  Anything to get away from Tad. Not that Tad might not have been a nice choice if Scott was on the down side of twenty-seven instead of the high side of thirty-seven, but at this time in his life, he wasn’t looking for games or anonymous fucking.

  Especially not when he had to think about Noel back home and how his actions would impact her. He wouldn’t give her up for anyone he couldn’t feel at least as strongly for.

  While he suspected Tad could probably suck the stucco off the hotel’s walls with his snerky, pouty mouth, Noel wasn’t bad in that department herself.

  As Scott followed the guy around the courtyard and toward the other bar area, he was now uncomfortably aware of men glancing at him. Or maybe at the mystery guy.

  Another man, an older bear dressed in leather gear, including assless chaps and a tiny G-string that was more wishful thinking than an actual garment, smiled when they approached, extending a hand to the man.

  “Hey, Keith. Long time, no see.” They shook.

  Well, at least I already have his name.

  “Hey, Marvin.”

  “Didn’t know you were going to be here this weekend. This your new boy?” the guy asked, tipping his head as he stared at Scott. “Or is he free-range fresh meat?”

  Scott couldn’t help but blush under the older man’s appraising gaze.

  Keith glanced over his shoulder at Scott. “Don’t go poaching one out from under me, now, Marvin. I just started talking with him.” Keith smiled at Scott, something about his expression twisting Scott’s insides in a pleasant way.

  “Well,” Marvin said, smiling as he slowly walked past Scott. “If you find yourself free-ranging this weekend, feel free to stop by my room. 137. The door will be open.”

  Scott dropped his gaze and realized he’d focused on Keith’s back, the way his spine disappeared into the waistband of his shorts with a muscled dip above his hips.

  Yum.

  His mouth went dry, and he found himself sucking on his straw as he followed Keith over to the bar, where they grabbed barstools at the far end, a little quieter there.

  “I can tell this is your first time,” Keith said after catching the bartender’s attention and ordering a bottle of beer. “Serious question—I’m guessing you’re here alone. Does your wife know?”

  Scott gulped and nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

  “I saw the ring. If you were married to a guy, he’d likely be here with you. Add to that, when a guy runs scared from a roving pack of wild twinks, yeah, pretty much pegs you as a first-timer fresh out of the closet.” He smiled, holding out his hand. “Keith Knepp.”

  Scott was relieved to be able to shake normally with him, a strong, firm, but not an assholish grip. Callused hands obviously used to working for a living.

  “Scott Gilroy.” He hoped Keith didn’t think less of him for having the soft, smooth hands of an office worker. The most physically strenuous thing he did at work was juggle multiple calls if they were short-staffed. He used the county’s small gym at the building several times a week, in addition to yard work at home, to stay in some semblance of shape.

  This guy had the real, firm body of a man used to physical labor. Not to mention the tan lines where it was obvious he usually wore a short-sleeved shirt all the time.

  * * * *

  It was only sheer chance that Keith had almost literally run into Scott. He usually didn’t hit the tiki bar, but thought he’d cruise through it first tonight, before the twinks took it over and he’d have to peel them off him. He wasn’t looking for a tight bubble ass to spank or fuck, or some kid in the market for a sugar daddy.

  When he’d spotted Scott at the end of the bar, the deer-in-the-headlights look had been unmistakable and irresistible. Not to mention Scott had blue eyes that Keith suspected would look even better when Keith had his cock down the man’s throat and the man was staring up at him as he fucked his mouth for the first time.

  He had accurately pegged Scott as a first-timer. Yes, Keith was looking for more than a quick fuck, and a married guy likely took success in that area out of the equation.

  He also wasn’t stupid and didn’t want to turn down a chance to pop the guy’s cherry, so to speak.

  But what he learned startled him in a pleasant way.

  “It’s a long story, and I’m not sure how much of it you care to hear,” Scott said.

  “All of it, from the beginning, is good for me.”

  Ten minutes later, Keith realized this had the potential to be a lot more than just a quick weekend thing, or even a series of planned rendezvous.

  That the guy’s wife was willing to let Scott off the chain—if Scott was telling the truth, which the man’s body language indicated he was—and that he was from Sarasota were two points in his fa
vor.

  “She sounds like an amazing woman,” Keith said.

  “She is.” Scott looked down into his glass, a fresh rum and Coke. “I got to the point where I felt guilty for how hard she was trying. I want her to be able to have a good life. She’s only doing the BDSM stuff for me.”

  Keith took a risk and leaned in, resting a hand on Scott’s thigh. “You’re telling me you’ve never actually been with a guy before?”

  Fuck. Me.

  Scott shook his head. “I’ve gone out a couple of times with some guys, but nothing happened. I didn’t want a quick fuck.”

  “Then why are you here this weekend?”

  “I need to figure out what’s going on inside my head. I owe her that much.”

  “So you’re a bottom?”

  Scott nodded.

  “A virgin bottom, literally?”

  Scott nodded again.

  Keith sat back and smiled. “Then why don’t we go have a bite to eat in the restaurant and talk a little more? If you’d like that.”

  Scott nodded, eagerly.

  “Let’s go back up to my room for a minute,” Keith said. “I need to grab a shirt. They’re sort of lax around here, but in the restaurant they insist on shirts and shoes.”

  “What about pants?”

  Keith grinned. “Define pants.”

  “Ah.”

  They left the bar area, Scott following Keith around and up the stairs. Keith was swiping his key card when Scott let out a soft swear and pushed his way into the room past Keith, pulling Keith in after him and shoving the door shut.

  “Whoa, slow down, buddy,” Keith said, his motor already revving. “I’m driving.”

  “No,” Scott whispered. “That’s a guy I work with!”

  Keith peeked out the window, around the curtain. “Who, the redhead?”