3 Crushes and a Wedding Ch. 03

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Author’s note: I’m sorry for leaving this series hanging for so long. Life happened and I wasn’t able to do my final edit and submit the next chapters. Thanks to those of you who reached out to check on me! I’ll do my best to be more consistent and continue pushing the rest of this seven-part series in my original two-week plan.

Since so much time has passed since the first two chapters, I’d suggest going back and quickly skimming them to remember where we left off. And if you haven’t read those first chapters, you won’t understand much of what is happening here, so go on, read that first, then come back. I’ll be waiting.

Reminder: All of my stories leave something for the imagination. I don’t want you to delve into a multi-chapter story expecting sex scenes in the traditional sense only to be disappointed. But if you appreciate the journey towards sex, with all its naughtiness and explicit moments, then I hope you’ll enjoy the characters and their evolution here.

Disclaimer: Although not stated explicitly, all characters engaging in any sexual activity are above 18.


“How are you doing?” Kay sat next to me at the bar.

“Better than expected.”

After a long day spent with Emily, Dave, and all the guests, taking a cruise, touring the surrounding villages, and participating in all kinds of silly activities, while making sure everyone was happy and had what they wanted, we were back at the hotel, hungry, thirsty, tired. The party wasn’t supposed to start for another hour but everyone seemed to have elected to skip resting and just stayed by the pool to enjoy the Costa Rican sunset instead.

“It’s still very awkward and surreal to have them all here, but I no longer want to puke each time I spot one of them.” I shrugged, “Progress.”

There were shared glances during the day, some smiles, some jokes, brief but multiple chats with Valentina and Scarlett, and I kept bumping into Megan everywhere I turned or moved. But nothing notable happened, save for the fact that I hadn’t had one second to myself.

“I’m proud of you.” Kay clinked our glasses together. “Though perhaps the fact that two of them already threw themselves at you and the third one has basically synchronized her breathing with yours helps a little.” She winked. “Speaking of, where is Megan?”

“She went to get changed. Also,” I frowned, “she doesn’t know anyone else here beside me and Em’s family, and they’re busy with all the other guests, so that’s why she’s around me a lot.”

“Sure, sure,” Kay nodded with zero conviction. “Too bad she didn’t have her swimsuit already on. She could’ve just taken off her clothes here, for your full enjoyment.”

I nearly spit my champagne. “You’re not making this easy for me, Kay.”

She stuck her tongue out, “You, on the other hand, are making this very easy for me.” Then she looked around the outdoor bar and frowned. “Are we expecting any food at this party? My stomach is rumbling.”

Both of us hadn’t had the opportunity to grab lunch. While the other guests had briefly stopped at some eateries during our tour, we ran to a nearby brewery and grabbed a few special local craft beer bottles. Em’s soon-to-be in-laws were big beer aficionados, and she wanted to impress them.

“Em said there would be hors d’œuvres, but I don’t think they’ll bring them out for another hour or two,” I sighed.

“Food! I said food! Not little miniature concepts of what food should be! I’ve been running around since the morning, I need something with sustenance!”

“Amuse-bouches aren’t going to cut it for me either. I’m starving,” Megan replied, having again appeared out of nowhere and now standing beside us in an emerald one-piece swimsuit with a quasi-transparent white beach kimono over it.

I stared, mouth agape.

I couldn’t but stare.

The suit brought up her green eyes and charming face, but it also accentuated her frame, pushing up her chest so it got all the attention, and cleanly cutting at her waist so you could enjoy the full length of her legs.

“See? Everyone here is clearly feeling ravenous.” Kay’s double-entendres were getting better by the second; I almost choked on my drink. “I’m going to see if I can bribe them to bring us something to eat.” She dropped from her bar stool and dashed out.

“She’s always running in or running out, isn’t she?” Megan hoisted herself on another empty stool but couldn’t seemingly tear her eyes away from my body.

I had already switched into my bikini and wasn’t wearing any cover-up on top. Any opportunity to store some vitamin D was quite welcome since I didn’t get to see the sun enough back in Chicago. The accompanying tan was a great bonus.

My tongue flinched, wanting to make a comment about her staring, but I kept it under control. I just let her enjoy the moment and reveled in having her full attention on me. After a few seconds, she realized she was ogling me and shook herself. She looked up at me and blushingly smiled, her sweet but powerful smile that made yaşlı escort the world spin a little faster, stop abruptly, then spin again with utter abandon.

“I really missed you too.”

I’d been wanting to answer her message all day but couldn’t find the right thing to type. Maybe texting wasn’t appropriate after all. Maybe some emotions would be lost in a few little pixels on a screen. Maybe I needed to say it in person, so she would hear it coming from my own voice. So I would hear it coming from my own voice.

If her earlier smile had made me dizzy, this one was intoxicatingly bright. Her eyes twinkled under the dark golden sunlight, happy wrinkles at their corners, and her lips stretched naturally, causing her cheeks to puff up and turn pink. I nearly lost it when I saw her two adorable dimples for the first time since the start of the weekend. It had been more than a decade since I last spotted them, but they still knew how to dig a crater through my heart.

“Some things are better said in person.” I doubt my smile could ever be as heart-stopping as hers, but I tried.

I stared for a few seconds, lost in her gaze. The faint smell of her aqua perfume wafted through the air and tickled my senses. Her hand landed on top of mine, her fingers grazed my skin, slowly, leisurely. They didn’t have to do more. In a few seconds, goosebumps had spread from my hand all the way up to my neck and down my back.

That was all it took for me to realize something. Yes, things were really different with Megan. They had always been. If Valentina was my first crush, my muse, my unattainable, and Scarlett the dream of success and something more that I had to let go of a long time ago, then Megan was my love. Pure, joyful, unadulterated, non-destructive love.

My preservation instinct kicked in and I abruptly took my hand away. She seemed puzzled.

“We’re leaving in two days.” She didn’t get it. “We’re leaving in two days,” I repeated, bitterly, “I can’t miss you again like that.”

She stayed silent, eyes glued to our separate hands on the bar top. I couldn’t move. Whether a figment of my imagination or a reality, whatever was there between us had to stay in that exact place… between us. Like an invisible force separating us.

Kay resurfaced, smiling victoriously. “Whew! It was tough, but I convinced them to bring us a dozen chicken tenders. Should help quench our appetite a little.” She winked discreetly at me.

I looked at Megan and we both glanced down to our separate, static hands on the bar top. She looked hurt.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” I said, grimly. Maybe it would — be fine that is. Maybe, if I focused on the positives of this weekend, it could soften the blow of the negative. And maybe, just maybe, I could move on with my life now, putting Megan and my Megan hang-up behind me for good.

“Yeah, great. Be back in a minute.” Megan dropped off her stool and nearly sprinted away. I followed her with my eyes.

“What’s up with her?”

“Not every story gets its closure, I guess.” I sighed as Megan disappeared inside the hotel.

Kay frowned. “I’m not going to pretend to know what that means, but you say the word and I’ll find a way to get you every piece of chocolate this place has, including the ones in guests’ luggage.” She snickered. “Pretty sure Em’s aunt has a secret stash, she keeps offering me one of those Lindt balls each time she sees me. Don’t know if she finds me thin or she’s trying to change my sexual preference.”

Kay’s goal obviously was to make me laugh. She succeeded. My brain was still replaying my few minutes with Megan, but it was now also assaulted by the ridiculous imagery of Em’s aunt following Kay around with a bag full of chocolate balls.

“As far as conversion therapies go, it could be worse.”

We giggled. “We’ll know for sure if she graduates to bananas or banana-shaped sweets tomorrow.”

A waiter walked out from the hotel with a large plate of chicken tenders. He immediately spotted Kay’s gesticulating arms and came toward us. The conversation halted as we dove straight in, disregarding the stares from all the famished guests around us.

A few minutes later, I spotted Scarlett walking in our direction. She had changed into a blue bikini top and tiny jeans shorts, which likely hid the second part of the swimsuit. She looked simple and almost forgettable, but one glance at that top caused images of her infuriatingly naughty nipple to flash in my head. In public, she didn’t have the swagger nor the sex appeal, but she had proven that, behind closed doors, she knew just what to do and how to do it. That made her immensely sexier to me. Maybe that was why I was always drawn by her eyes; they had a depth and complexity to them that her average appearance perfectly hid away.

“Stop drooling,” Kay whispered before she raised her voice. “Hungry? Want some of our tenders?”

The phrasing couldn’t have been any more explicit and she knew it. I wanted gaziantep yaşlı escort to laugh, but I also wanted to kill her. Kay never shared food with anyone, but I bet this entire situation was too amusing for her and she couldn’t pass the opportunity to have more fun at my expense.

“Yes! I’ve had this hunger since early morning and the quick breakfast did nothing to quench it.”

Scarlett’s innocent tone could’ve fooled anyone, but we both knew what her early morning hunger had been all about. She didn’t try to sit next to us, instead stopping near me and leaning in to grab one of the chicken pieces from the plate. Her arm grazed mine and lingered just a little longer than necessary before retreating. She didn’t dip it in the sauce at first, which gave her an excuse to lean against me another time, “Oh mustn’t forget the sauce.”

Her finger brushed past my arm and she stared at me right as she finished that sentence. The way she opened her mouth and bit into the crispy piece of chicken made my stomach tighten and my insides rumble. I wanted to make a witty comment, get her to choke a little on her food and blush from embarrassment, but I was under a spell.

She moaned and swooned, then used my shoulder to steady herself. “Mmmm, perfectly tender and juicy. Thanks for helping me satiate my hunger a little.” And with that, she winked and turned around then walked away toward another group of people.

I gulped while Kay did her best not to burst out laughing.

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

She reddened and nearly choked on her chicken. She took a few seconds to calm down and swallow it, while I regained my composure.

“Never suspected she could be this feisty.”

“You have no idea,” I answered while replaying images from our intimate jacuzzi moment. “Well, even I had no idea, until this morning.”

Kay reached for another piece of chicken but stopped dead in her tracks.

“Oh goodie, the trifecta of tormentors is complete!” She nodded toward the hotel door and wolf-whistled discreetly.

I looked up and saw Valentina walking out with her husband, wearing what could only be described as a fuck-me-now white swimsuit. The one-piece might as well have been a bikini, as it had less fabric than one and only connected the top and bottom parts with a few thin, rhinestone-studded strings. Her dark, perpetually tan complexion perfectly contrasted with the white color, and her long wavy chestnut hair only accentuated the effect.

Looking at her was like standing in front of an open buffet made by the best chef in the world. I just didn’t know where to start. Every piece of her looked scrumptious. My eyes twitched from one plate to the other, but kept coming back to her chest, an absolute masterpiece. I always knew she was well endowed, she had never shied away from cleavage-friendly tops, but this was another level of flaunting and taunting. This was the buffet’s chocolate fountain, flowing out, smooth, sweet, and ready for anyone to dip in and taste. And boy was I dying for a taste!

“Is she planning on dancing wearing that? Or going into the pool wearing that?” Kay was clearly interested as well.

“I don’t know.”

“Damn, should’ve brought my zoom cam!”


“What? Trust me, I wouldn’t be the only one tonight taking pics with her inadvertently in them.”

We remained silent while Valentina and her husband passed near us, but we couldn’t take our eyes off them – or well, her. Valentina flashed me her signature sexy smile and it was all I could do not to collapse at her feet and beg her to leave her husband and come to my room.

As they walked away, we were treated to the second side of the swimsuit, which didn’t disappoint at all. Not one bit. Not one single bubbly butt. Uh… bit. Yeah, I said ‘bit.’

“What a perfect ass…et.” Kay joked and grinned at my despair. “She gives off a Sofia Vergara-slash-Eva Mendes vibe, doesn’t she?”

I looked again in Valentina’s direction and saw she’d joined the usual group of people she had been hanging with during the weekend, all her husband’s coworkers, all clearly boring. To me, she had quite a unique look, there was no one like her. But if we were to draw general resemblances, then yes, Sofia Vergara or Eva Mendes were as close as it gets. I nodded.

Valentina was now standing with her left side toward me. She slowly turned her head in my direction and caught me staring. She winked, grinned, clearly satisfied with the effect she was having, then looked away.

Forget BDSM accessories and toys, this woman was torture personified. Back at school, she had every teenage boy and every grown-up teacher or assistant bending over backwards for her. Now, twenty years later, she could still get you to do whatever she wanted by just looking at you. No whip necessary.

I suddenly wondered if she was a domme, if she ever dressed in leather, if she wore high boots with fuck-me pumps, or if she ever actually held a whip. Once gaziantep yaşlı escort bayan on that train of thought, my brain couldn’t stop. I started wondering what little chance her husband had of being the top in their relationship, or if she ever made him watch while she pleasured herself alone or with another man or woman, or if she ever wore a strap-on and pegged him. The imagery was all too vivid in my head, and the role suited her to perfection.

Between Scarlett’s tease earlier and Valentina’s display with all the thoughts it triggered, my bikini was dangerously close to getting soiled.

“I’ll be back. Need to freshen up.”

I heard Kay’s sarcastic ‘uh-huh’ but didn’t answer. Within a few seconds, I was inside the hotel dashing toward the ladies room. To say I was tempted to take care of my situation right then and there would be an understatement, but I also didn’t want to rush myself. I just freshened up and headed out.

As I walked back across the hotel lobby, I spotted a figure sitting behind the piano with her back to me. The emerald bikini with see-through white kimono immediately drew my eyes. Megan. I walked toward her, a knot in my stomach, and cleared my throat, not wanting to startle her.


“Hey you,” came the stiff answer. She didn’t turn, but she obviously knew it was me. “Come, sit next to me.” She scooted to one side of the leather chair and tapped on the now empty space.

I walked over to the piano and sat next to her. Our shoulders and hips brushed. My heart began thumping.

“Do you know how to play?” She asked, still not looking at me.


“Me neither,” she sighed and caressed the ivory keys with her fingers. “Always wanted to, so I could express my feelings in music. Feels more visceral than words, more nuanced, more chaotic too.” She placed her right hand in the middle of the piano and played a few random keys with her fingers. “Yesterday, for example, I’d be,” and she continued her sentence by sliding her fingers higher across the octaves, reaching all the way to the far right and the most joyful note. “Whereas today I’d be…” She skipped her hand across the piano, right to left, touching random notes until she reached the extreme left, then played the lowest, most ominous note. For a few seconds the sound hung in the air, like a dark rumble from her heart, then started dying down. She played it again, twice in quick succession, and let it last as long as it could then fade.

I stared at her hand in front of me and wondered. Was it me? Was I the reason she was happy the day before and so distraught today? I wanted to be sure but dared not ask, fearing her rejection. There was hope and solace in this uncertainty, and I didn’t want it to end.

“And now?” I asked, hunting for more clues.

She stayed still and stared down at the piano. “Now I’m…” she sighed and placed both hands at opposing ends, then played several keys together, low and high notes mixing in a confused jumble of sounds. Then, as the echo slowly dissipated, she glided her hands toward each other, briefly tickling all the keys in the process. The cacophony was painful until both her left and right index fingers rested on one note in the center of the piano. She let it run its course then lifted her hands and stood up quickly.

“Come on, let’s go back out there. Sounds like the party is getting started and I want to dance.”

I stood up but couldn’t get my feet to move just yet. “Megan…” My hand instinctively found itself on her shoulder. The veiled messages, confusing chats, and indecipherable signs weren’t cutting it anymore. We needed to have a real talk.

She turned toward me and frowned. I saw the same indecision and exasperation on her face that I was sure to find on mine too. This ambivalence we were both clearly feeling hit me hard. If anything, it was one huge alarming sign, and we couldn’t and shouldn’t ignore it. If we were sure about our feelings, we wouldn’t be doing this to each other, would we?

Whatever we felt for each other, it certainly wasn’t strong enough to make us talk and be honest. So how could we expect this feeling to get us through life’s more complicated and challenging situations? My stance shifted as I looked at her eyes and foresaw the inevitable doom of any potential relationship before it even started.

But I wasn’t ready to face the music just yet, I couldn’t let go of that invisible thread of hope my heart was still holding on to. I preferred to have more moments of doubt, even if they were pointless, because doubt was better than finality. The look on her face said the same.

Perhaps now was not the time for grand confessions and life-changing decisions after all. Perhaps now was the time for letting our hair down and enjoying each other’s company. The real talk could be tomorrow’s worry.

“Yes, let’s go dance. I like this song.” I grabbed her hand and started walking toward the pool. She squeezed it in silent agreement.


Half an hour later, I found myself back at the bar, taking a breather, sipping a bright red cocktail, and peering around the outdoor deck at each of my three crushes. Kay had dubbed them the queen of Clubs (Valentina and her curves), the queen of Spades (Scarlett and her spiky attitude), and queen of Hearts (Megan and, well, my heart). Apt comparisons all around.

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