17. Henry

Chapter 17

Henry

“Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to her.”

I rush after him, tug him back by the waistband of his trousers, and shove him into the kitchen.

“I think we should give her some space. Just let her shower and get her head together.”

His hands fist my t-shirt at the shoulders, his lip curled up into a snarl. “Don’t tell me what to do, you bastard.”

“Oi!” I snap, pushing him up against the kitchen counter. “You need to cool your head too, mate. Just give her a minute. That was intense for all of us.”

In the living room, I find my pants flung across the back of the sofa and tug them up over my hips. Then I wash my hands, run him a glass of water, then one of my own.

“Here, drink that and I’ll find us something stronger.”

I watch his throat roll as he downs it in one, and my dick, more confused than ever, twitches again. Casper is undeniably attractive, all that Italian machismo bubbling under the surface of skin that sports a year-round tan.

He’s quite the picture, standing there with his chest heaving, the front of his sweatpants soaked from Saskia’s torment. I can’t stop staring at the light grey material turned almost black. I’ve never seen this man’s dick, but I can make out the outline of it where his sweatpants stick to his skin. It’s pretty fucking hot on some base level, and I lose track of time staring at it before turning away.

Rummaging through the cupboards, I find a bottle of whisky and pull two glasses from the shelf. I splash three fingers into each, then turn back with a peace offering. Casper stares at me while he takes his first sip, and part of me wonders what it would taste like on his lips.

“Why did you come here?” I ask, and he dismisses me with a shrug. “Come on, mate, we all know that line about spending one last Christmas in the cottage was bullshit. You knew she’d be here, and you knew I was coming too.”

His mouth opens and closes as he attempts to speak, but he knows there’s no point in lying.

“I think you forgot for a minute there how smart she is. So what was the plan?”

He swirls the whisky around in his glass, throws it back and leans in closer. “There is one thing I could never give her on my own. I thought this would be my last chance to make her happy.”

“You mean a threesome?”

“Yeah,” he nods, then points back out to the living room. “I just didn’t think it would happen like that.”

“I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t a threesome, by my definition.”

His gaze flicks up to mine, eyes narrowing as he gets a read on me.

I’ve had one before, with two women, not long after Saskia and Casper’s wedding. In hindsight, I was avoiding my feelings about it by chasing women all over New York, a debauched couple of years that were nowhere near as satisfying as if I’d approached them with a clear head.

This particular woman and I had been casually dating for a month or two before she suggested her friend join us. I was fully on board, but it pretty quickly became clear they were more interested in each other. I only saw her once after that.

Sleeping with two women was one thing, but two guys has never been a fantasy of mine, not until last night when Casper stood by and watched me react to his ex-wife’s touch. Or right now, when I fucked Saskia’s mouth with Casper’s fingers woven between mine.

“Are you bisexual?” I ask him, and he shrugs dismissively.

“Pleasure is pleasure, my friend. Are you?”

“No,” I tell him, keeping the ‘I don’t think so’ part of that sentence to myself. I’m not ready to suggest otherwise while I’m still processing a lot of feelings about it. My sexuality has never been in question until now.

“You know why we separated?” he asks.

“You wanted different things.”

Saskia broke the news of their split over a video call, her tone sombre but measured. Her explanation was brief. He wanted kids, she didn’t. She’d clearly accepted their decision, but I’d wanted to crawl through the phone and scoop her into my arms all the same.

“From life, yes,” Casper says. “Not from sex. That was never the issue.”

“So I gathered from last night. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“You’re both clearly very experienced with all sorts of kinky shit. If this is something she’s always wanted, why haven’t you done it before? I’m sure you could have found a third person to join you, no problem.”

“Use your brain, Henry,” he laughs, filling his glass with water, then chugging it down. “You know her. Saskia is fiercely loyal, to a fault at times. She puts everyone else first, her friends, her clients. She put me first, too.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Look, she has loved you her whole life, but as soon as we were married, she buried those feelings deep down.”

He continues for a while, but I’ve stopped listening.

“She loves me?”

“You must see it,” he scoffs. “Or you wouldn't be here.”

“What do you mean?”

“No man with a face like yours travels across the world just to stick his dick in something. I'm sure you have plenty of women in New York.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“And why is that?”

I don’t even pause to answer. “Because there's no one like her.”

“You had that wonderful girlfriend a few years ago. What was her name again?”

“Julia,” I remind him.

“Why didn't you marry her?”

“Because…”

“Because?” he sing-songs, mocking me. He knows exactly what my answer would be. “Exactly. So don't pretend to me you don't love her, too.”

“And you don't?”

“Of course I do. When you have a woman like that, she’ll always keep a piece of your heart, even if you decide to let each other go. It’s not for lack of love that we have ended our time together, it’s because we love each other so much that we’re willing to let each other go.”

Usually when couples separate, it’s because they’ve drifted apart, or one has wronged the other somehow. Though I believed her when she said it was over, I hadn’t known how much I needed to hear him say it, too.

It's good to know he still supports her, but won’t be trying to change her mind while she figures out this next phase of her life.

“If you don’t get your shit together and tell her you feel the same, don’t come complaining to me when some boring finance guy has her on his arm within a year.”

The thought turns my stomach. “She wouldn’t.”

“Do you even want to test that theory?”

No, I fucking don’t.

“You’re the only man I would do this with, Henry. Once the snow has cleared, I’ll be gone, and she’ll be so loyal to you, I’m sure she’ll never mention it again.”

He picks a shiny red apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, washes it, and takes a big bite. My glutes clench at the thought of him sinking his teeth into me instead.

“It will be my one regret that I never fulfilled all of her wishes. Let’s give her one more gift. Together. What do you say?”

“If you’d asked me that two days ago I might have punched you in the face, but after what she just did to both of us…” I huff out a long breath, cock twitching— again —at the memory of her disappearing out of sight after taking a mouthful of my come. “It feels like she deserves a little special treat in return.”

“Revenge?” he says, tapping his fingertips together. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”

“You tell me. What would be the best way to get her back, while still making sure she has a great time?”

“Total annihilation,” he says, eyebrows pumping up and down.

“Chill out, mate. She’s a woman, not a video game.”

Our heads turn when we hear the bathroom door open upstairs. Casper tries to leave, but I stop him, one hand splayed across his chest. His skin is warm and smooth, and my fingertips flex instinctively, pressing into his tight muscles.

“Let me go up and check on her. See where her head’s at. That snow’s not going anywhere, so maybe we just relax tonight and see where tomorrow takes us.”

“You’re pathetic,” he pouts.

“Says the man who just came in his pants.”

“That's not fair,” he gasps. “You would have done the same if you saw how filthy she looked.”