Call Me Sugar by Lacee Hightower

Call Me Sugar by Lacee Hightower

Author:Lacee Hightower
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, gay, threesome, contemporary, dark, menage, bdsm, mmf, dark romance
Publisher: Evernight Publishing


Chapter Thirteen

Jen

Three weeks pass quickly.

Business trips for Jason. Museum work for me. Keith continuing to be busy with cattle preparation for an upcoming auction where he’ll sell most of his calves. Most evenings, the two of us have shared a short dinner together, mainly at the ranch, occasionally in my kitchen, and of course the weekly fix of Mendez Tex-Mex. All because I’ve insisted.

Keith is anything but his usual spirited self.

Day in and day out, it’s been the same. His expression is gloom, his normal lively spirit flat and listless. There’s an ache behind his eyes, a darkness in his gaze, as if something has sucked the spring and sparkle from him and replaced it with misery and gloom.

Twenty-one days without him laying a hand on me has felt like torture in more ways than one. But worse than the sexual frustration is the silence. It’s a lingering, dead, continuous silence, like a hopeless dark void. Some days we’ve barely spoken at all, even over dinner. A dull gloominess persists in his eyes, his smiles fewer and further between, his words more and more limited. And I know just exactly where this is coming from. I know, because I feel the same way.

He misses Jason.

Things aren’t the same when he’s not around. I ache for him too.

This relationship that I’m not even sure is a relationship has done nothing but encourage complexity and chaos, a slow, agonizing, insufferable and confusing torture and hell to three people in love with each other.

How could something like that ever work? How could something so off-limits and forbidden ever be a normal or satisfying way to live?

“Chow’s done.” Keith smiles, dull though it is, as he brings in a platter of delicious-smelling chicken that he’s grilled. He opens a well-chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, pours two full glasses, then takes a seat while I finish the salad. The air so brittle it could snap as he continues fighting to make conversation, hide his troubled expression, and conceal the continual agony flashing in his eyes.

Heart thundering after what seems like the longest dinner I’ve ever endured, my insides are jumping with curiosity and nerves over something I’ve been wanting to do since the night of the Grand Opening. My daddy used to say, “You will or you won’t. You can or you can’t.” I’m seconds from doing both.

“Will you tell me about you and Jason? When and how it all started? Please?”

His chest shifts awkwardly and uncomfortably, and he nearly hurls himself from the kitchen table chair. After he tosses his food scraps into the garbage, brutally, angrily, and with something blazing behind his hardened expression, he finds my eyes. “And what exactly do you want to know, Jen? The first time Jason sucked my dick? The first time he walked away with his thighs covered in deep red streaks from my belt? Or how I felt when I first left his neck covered with my teeth marks or the hot self-disgust that burned inside



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