Лорел Гамильтон - Rafael

He looked even more puzzled. “Have I done or said anything to make you think that I need more sex from you?”

“No, but . . . I would need more sex. I would want more, so I was going to talk to you about it, but I wanted to make sure that some of the women in the poly group were okay with it first.”

Pierette dropped back to her knees. “My queen, I am so sorry, you have not spoken with him yet.”

“Nope,” I said.

She started to try to press more of herself to the ground at my feet, but I caught her arm in time. “Please don’t grovel, Pierette, that really bugs me. We’ve talked about this.”

She got up without me telling her to this time. “I am sorry though, truly. I did not know that you had not spoken to him.”

“I just talked to all the rest of you two days ago. I hadn’t seen Rafael yet.”

“My deepest apologies to both of you,” she said.

I sighed and turned back to the man in question. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, because it was a new one. “You’re fighting for your crown tonight; I wouldn’t have brought it up today.”

Pierette started to drop back down, but I yelled, “Pierette!” It stopped her in midmotion, and she stood there with her towel, looking truly contrite, and still sort of adorable. It was weird for me to think of other women as adorable, but there it was; I was starting to think I might owe some men an apology for getting angry with them when they’d called me cute or adorable over the years.

“I am sorry that I do not please you, King Rafael.” She said it eyes down so she couldn’t see the emotions that flew across his face.

He smiled. “You are beautiful, and I am sure delightful in many ways; please do not think that it is lack of charm that makes me hesitate.”

She looked at him then, and I knew the look, because it worked on me. She was trying to be cute for him, interesting. “Then I do not understand, Your Majesty.”

He frowned, I think at the title, but he didn’t correct her, or maybe he, like me, wasn’t sure if it needed correcting, or if it was accurate. “Anita, are you saying that if I said yes, this would be happening now?”

“You mean the three of us sharing the shower and maybe more?” I asked.

“Yes, that is what I mean.”

I sort of shrugged. “Like I said, I was going to talk to you about it.”

“So that’s a yes,” he said.

I nodded. “Yes, I hadn’t planned on it happening this soon, but yes.”

He shook his head. “It’s a trap.”

I frowned at him. “What’s a trap?”

“The offer of a three-way.”

“Um, a trap for what?” I asked.

“I’ve had this offer before from other women that I’ve dated, and it’s always a trap.”

“How is it a trap?” I asked.

“Either the girlfriend uses it as a test to see if I’ll cheat . . .”

“It’s not cheating if she tries to get you to have a three-way with her and another woman,” I said.

“That’s not how she saw it,” he said.

“That’s so not fair,” I said.

He smiled. “Thank you, I agree with you.”

“That would be a trap,” Pierette said.

I looked at her and then we nodded together.

“Or the three-way happens, the sex is good, everything’s good that night, but in the morning one or both of the women decide that it was an awful idea and it’s my fault somehow,” Rafael said.

“Your fault how?” I asked.

“Being a man, I think, somehow being lusty enough to want and satisfy two women. I don’t know, Anita, Pierette, it didn’t make sense to me at the time.”

“So, every time any woman has offered you a chance to sleep with her and another woman, it’s been a trap?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, Pierette is my girlfriend, so . . .”

He shook his head. “Tried that, ended up with them being jealous of the time I had with each of them and it broke us all up.”

“Were they polyamorous?” I asked.

He thought about that. “No, bisexual, but not poly.”

“Then there was your problem,” I said.

“I believe that you mean what you say, Anita, you usually do, and I do appreciate the offer, but no matter how well it begins, it has always ended in drama, breaking up, and sometimes violence.”

“What kind of violence?” I asked.

“One of them stabbed me.”

I stared at him. “Shit, that’s . . . tell me you pressed charges. I hate the double standard that if a woman hurts a man, she gets a pass just because she’s a girl. Equality means just that; you do something awful, you get the same punishment.”

He shook his head. “It was a steak knife, no silver in the steel. There wouldn’t even be a wound by the time police could arrive; besides, I am a king and a wererat, it would have made me look weak.”

“Did you feel she was justified? I mean not stabbing you, but did you cheat on her or something?”

“The morning after the three-way that was her idea, with the woman of her choice, she woke up third in the bed. Her friend and I were kissing.”

“You thought you had her permission,” I said.

“We both did, but she got out of bed obviously upset, so I went after her, trying to understand what I’d done wrong.”

“Which was what?” I asked.

He smiled. “I think when it was all over, her complaint was that I hadn’t kissed her awake first. She wanted to share me with her friend, but she didn’t want me to like her friend better.”

“Wow, I understand why you’re leery of being with two women at once now. I’m like totally sorry that Pierette sprang it on you like this, and we can skip it, or talk later, or whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Wait a second, what did you do to the woman who stabbed you if the police weren’t involved?”

“I broke up with her; why, what did you think I had done to her?”

“Trying to kill the king for most shapeshifter groups is an automatic death sentence outside of a formal challenge.”

“It was suggested by some of my people, but she didn’t really want me dead. She was horrified as soon as she saw the blood. She begged my forgiveness, professed her love for me. I think she even meant it.”

“Abusers are always sorry afterward, but it’s still not love,” I said.

He studied my face. “You consider what she did the same as a man hitting a woman?”

“If you stab someone because you’re jealous of them, that’s crazy and abusive no matter what sex you are—it’s not okay for a man to do it, or a woman to do it, or anyone to do that to another human being because they’re jealous of them.”

“Very practical,” he said.

“You look and feel like you’re not outraged by it, like it was okay. You know it’s not okay, right? You know that was not your fault, or justified in any way, right?” I asked.

“I do now, but it would take me years after it happened to understand that.”

“How can you not know that’s not okay, Rafael?”

“I am attracted to sexy, crazy, unstable women, and that is my fault.”

“Should I be insulted?” I asked with a smile.

It was his turn to look embarrassed. “No, no, you are the most stable relationship I’ve ever had.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because it seemed sad. “Really?”

He laughed. “The look on your face, Anita, and yes, really. No matter how sane and together they seem, if I’m attracted to them, they are seriously unstable. Some hide their insanity better than others, but it’s always there. The harder I am driven to pursue a woman, the crazier she will prove to be.”

“Even your ex-wife?” I asked.

He nodded. “Oh, yes. I learned not to marry in haste after that one.”