This is the sequel to Never Have I Ever. You can read Part 1 here
That next morning Tony kissed me goodbye and left for work. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the couch still a mess through the open door, and let the images from the night before come back one by one. Brandon's mouth on mine. Tony's hands on my breasts while another man moved inside me. The feeling of both of them at once, so full I couldn't think, could only feel. The way I came harder than I ever had in my life, and the way Tony held me afterward, like something had opened between us.
I felt different. Like I'd stepped through a door and the room on the other side was bigger than I expected.
By the time Tony came home that evening I'd been thinking about it all day. We made dinner, talked about work, cleared the plates. He poured us each a glass of wine and we sat on the couch.
"So," he said. "Worth the wait?"
"It was the best sex I've ever had, Tony."
He didn't flinch. "Tell me why."
I thought about it for a moment because I wanted to say it right. "It wasn't just the two of you. I mean, that was incredible, obviously. But it was Brandon. Someone I actually wanted. Someone I'd been wanting for years without admitting it." I paused. "And you being there. Watching me. Touching me while he was inside me. That did something to me I didn't expect."
"What did it do?"
"Made me feel wanted in a way I've never felt before. Like every part of me was being seen."
He leaned over and kissed me. "I liked watching you. More than I thought I would."
"I could tell."
He laughed quietly. "So. Would you do it again?"
I didn't answer right away. I let the question sit. I wanted to be honest about what I was sure of.
"Yes," I said. "But not with just anyone."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm not interested in the whole hotwife thing, Tony. Flirting with strangers, going home with guys I met at a bar, swiping through profiles looking for a hookup. That's not who I am and it's not what turns me on." I looked at him. "I need to feel something. A pull. Something that makes me want a specific person, not just the idea of another man in our bed." I took a sip of wine. "Honestly, if Brandon lived here, I wouldn't even be looking. He ‘d be the one."
Tony nodded. "The chemistry is obvious. But he doesn't live here. So we find someone who gives you that same feeling."
"Does it bother you? That it has to mean something?"
"That's exactly what I want. I don't want to watch you fuck someone you don't care about. I want to watch you want someone. That's the whole point."
I pulled him down to kiss me, and this time neither of us stopped. Right there on the couch, the same couch where everything had happened the night before, I was whispering in his ear, telling him what it felt like to have two men at once. He groaned and gripped my hips harder, and we finished tangled together, breathing hard, the wine glasses from the night before still sitting on the table.
Talking about it had become its own kind of foreplay.
Brandon had already flown back by then, but we stayed in touch. Texts at first, careful, then longer, then honest. One Tuesday night he called while Tony was working late. His voice low in my ear, telling me what he'd do if he were there, how he couldn't stop thinking about the taste of me. I lay in bed with my hand between my legs, his words pushing me closer, my fingers moving slowly at first, then faster as his voice got rougher, until I came with his name caught in my throat.
Afterward we stayed on the line for a while, breathing, not saying much.
"Next time I'm in town, I'm not leaving after," he said.
I smiled in the dark. "Good."
Brandon was hundreds of miles away, but the wanting he'd unlocked in me didn't leave with him. Three weeks later, it found somewhere new to land.
Tony and I had been climbing with the same group for about a year. Caleb had been part of it since the beginning. Handsome, tall, lean, with dark eyes that radiated confidence. A good climber, patient and precise. We'd always gotten along easily. He'd spot me on difficult routes, and we'd talk between climbs about nothing important.
I'd always noticed he was attractive. You'd have to be blind not to. But I'd never thought about him like that. Before Brandon, I didn't think about anyone like that.
That Sunday was different. Halfway up a route, Caleb called up to me from below and when I looked down his eyes were on me. Not my hands or my feet. Me. When I came down, his fingers stayed on my waist a beat longer than they needed to.
"Nice work," he said. "You're getting stronger."
"Thanks." I smiled at him and saw something register in his face. Recognition.
After that I was more aware of him. The way his shoulders moved when he climbed. His forearms flexing against the holds. When we sat together I let my knee rest against his, and I didn't move it.
Tony noticed. Of course he did. The following week he arranged for the three of us to climb together at a quieter wall. I dressed carefully. Leggings that fit a little better, a tank top that showed a little more. Subtle enough to deny, obvious enough to notice.
At some point Tony and Caleb were alone on the bench while I refilled my water bottle. When I came back, Caleb looked at me differently. Something between nervous and hungry. The rest of the session he climbed next to me, stood closer than he needed to, brushed my lower back as I stepped up. Once, when I lost my balance coming down, he caught me with both hands on my hips.
"Careful," he said, his mouth close to my ear.
"Maybe I wanted to fall," I said.
Toward the end Tony went to the locker room and Caleb and I were alone on the bench.
"Tony talked to me earlier," he said. "He told me some things. About you two." He paused. "I'd like to get to know you better, Shelby. Just the two of us first."
My heart picked up. "I'd like that too."
We exchanged numbers. In the car on the way home Tony glanced at me.
"He wants to get to know me," I said. "Just the two of us first."
Tony smiled. "That's exactly how it should be."
"You're not jealous?"
He laughed. "Shelby. I set this up. Why would I be jealous?"
"Because it's real now."
He reached over and squeezed my thigh. "That's what makes it good."
We texted every day after that. The conversations got longer. The replies got faster. And somewhere between the casual and the honest, the flirting crept in and stayed.
On Wednesday he sent me a shirtless photo after a run. "Thought of you on the last mile."
"Why the last mile?"
"That's when it hurts the most. You're good at making things hurt in a good way."
I stared at the message, my pulse climbing. "We should meet up," I typed. "Just us. Friday night."
"Name the place."
I picked a cocktail bar on the east side, somewhere small and dark where nobody we knew would be. I told Tony about it over dinner on Thursday.
"Good," he said simply. "Have fun."
"That's all you're going to say?"
He smiled. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Something."
He stood up, came around the table, and kissed me slowly. "I want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to feel what you felt with Brandon. And when you're ready, I want to be there." He kissed me again. "But tomorrow night is yours. Go get him."
Friday came. I wore a black dress, simple, fitted, the kind that made me feel like the best version of myself. Caleb was already at the bar when I arrived, sitting in a corner booth with two drinks in front of him.
He stood when he saw me. "You look incredible," he said.
"You're not bad yourself."
We talked for an hour without a single pause. He was funny and sharp and attentive in a way that made me feel like the only person in the room.
Halfway through my second drink his hand found my knee under the table. I didn't move it. Ten minutes later it was on my thigh. I put my hand on top of his and moved it higher.
"I really want to kiss you right now," he said.
"So do it."
He kissed me slow at first, then deeper when I pulled him closer. His hand tightened on my thigh and the heat rushed through me.
"Come home with me," I said. "Tony will pick us up."
"Are you sure?"
I was already reaching for my phone. I called Tony and he picked up on the first ring.
"Hey," I said. "Can you come get us?"
There was a pause, and then I heard the smile in his voice. "I'm already putting my shoes on."
"Hurry."
"Fifteen minutes."
I hung up and looked at Caleb. "Fifteen minutes," I said.
He kissed me again, harder this time, his hand sliding up my thigh under my dress. I pressed against him in the booth, not caring who saw, counting the minutes.
Tony pulled up outside the bar and we climbed into the back seat together.
For the first minute neither of us moved. The streetlights passed over us in slow intervals and I could feel the heat coming off his body next to mine. Then his hand found my knee in the dark and moved upward, slowly, along the inside of my thigh.
I turned toward him. He was already looking at me.
I kissed him. His hand tightened on my thigh and he pulled me closer, his other hand sliding into my hair. I climbed half onto his lap, my dress riding up, and felt him hard against me.
"Shelby," he breathed between kisses.
"Shut up," I whispered, and ground against him.
In the rearview mirror I caught Tony's eyes. He was watching the road, but every few seconds his gaze lifted to us. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to.
By the time we pulled into the driveway my lips were swollen and Caleb's shirt was half unbuttoned. Tony turned off the engine and looked at us in the mirror.
"Take it inside," he said calmly. "I'll be right behind you."
I pulled Caleb out of the car and through the front door. We barely made it past the hallway before I pushed him against the wall and kissed him again, my hands working the rest of his buttons. He pulled my dress over my head in one smooth motion and his mouth went to my neck, my collarbone, the top of my breast.
Tony came in and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the wall and watched, arms crossed.
"Bedroom," I said.
Caleb looked at Tony. Tony nodded toward the hallway. "Follow her."
I took Caleb's hand and led him down the hall. Our bedroom. Our bed. Something about that felt different from the couch. More deliberate. More mine.
I pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. His hands went to my waist and I rocked against him slowly, feeling him through his jeans. I reached back and unclasped my bra, letting it fall between us.
"Jesus," he murmured, his eyes moving over me.
"Touch me," I told him.
His hands moved up my stomach to my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples. I leaned down and kissed him while I undid his belt and pushed his jeans down. He kicked them off and I felt him against me, hard and hot through my underwear.
Tony appeared in the doorway. He'd taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up. He sat in the chair by the window, the same chair where he usually threw his clothes at the end of the day. Tonight it was a front-row seat.
I looked at Tony while I sank down onto Caleb. The stretch made me gasp. He was long, reaching deep, and I took him slowly, watching his face tighten with the effort of holding still.
I started to move. Slow rolls of my hips, grinding down on him, finding the angle that made my breath catch. His hands gripped my thighs as I rode him.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he said.
I leaned down close to his ear. "You haven't seen anything yet."
I rode him harder, my hips snapping forward. The sound of skin on skin filled the room. Caleb's hands moved to my ass, pulling me down with every thrust.
From the chair, Tony watched. Still dressed, completely focused on me. Two men wanting me, one inside me and one watching like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
"Tony," I said without stopping. "Come here."
He undressed as he walked to the bed. I reached for him and stroked him while I rode Caleb. Then I leaned forward and took Tony in my mouth, sucking him slowly while Caleb thrust up into me from below.
I pulled back and looked at both of them. "Good thing I don't have to pick just one."
Caleb pulled out and I pushed Tony onto his back. I straddled him and sank down, then leaned forward against his chest and looked back at Caleb.
"You know where I want you," I said.
Caleb moved behind me. He pressed against my ass, slow and steady. I breathed through the stretch until he slid inside. The fullness hit me all at once, both of them, deep and overwhelming.
"Fuck," I whispered. "Don't move yet. Just let me feel it."
They held still. I breathed.
Then I started to move. They followed my lead, Tony from below, Caleb behind me. I controlled the pace. Slow when I wanted to feel every inch. Fast when the need took over. Tony's hands were on my hips. Caleb's mouth was on my shoulder, his breath ragged.
"Harder," I told Caleb. "Don't hold back."
He gripped my hips and thrust deeper. Tony pulled me down and kissed me, swallowing my cry. The rhythm broke apart into something wilder, more desperate. Three bodies moving on instinct.
My orgasm started deep and spread outward like a wave, rolling through me in pulses that made my whole body clench. I came screaming into Tony's mouth, my nails digging into his chest. Caleb came moments later, pulling out and spilling across my lower back. Tony followed, gripping my hips hard as he finished inside me.
We collapsed onto the bed. Sheets twisted, pillows on the floor, breathing like we'd run a race.
After a while Tony pulled me against him and kissed my temple. Caleb lay beside us, his hand on my hip, his thumb tracing a slow circle.
"So," Tony murmured. "Same time next week?"
I laughed softly, my eyes still closed.
"Ask me tomorrow," I said.
It was becoming our thing.