Four Letter Word
Love Logic Series, Book 2
KM Neuhold
M/M/M/M Romance, Menage
Release Date: 03.20.20
Blurb
Relationships are hard enough between two people…can the four of us make it work? Or is love nothing more than a four letter word?
Polyamory…the first time Riot says the word, it feels like everything slots into place. Maybe I’m not greedy for loving both of my best friends at once…
For most of my life, I didn’t think I could ever have the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of, but somehow a sexy bartender with a major sweet tooth is making it all seem possible.
Maybe Riot is right: our capacity for love is bigger than most people let themselves feel. But will Leo and Hudson feel the same? Will they be willing to try to build this beautiful, complicated life with me?
If I can keep them from ripping each other’s heads off that is…
*** This is book two in the Love Logic series and can be read as a stand-alone. This is a MMMM story full of love and heat.
I shift my ass against the floor, trying to get comfortable. The carpet is absolutely disgusting, I wonder if anyone ever vacuums it. Do apartments usually hire someone to do that? Or do they figure since no one lives in the hallway it doesn’t really matter?
Glancing at my phone for the millionth time, I get the distinct feeling I might be a fucking idiot. I told myself I’d only wait ten minutes for Bishop to get home. Ten minutes is all it takes to get from Twisted Cherry to here. And after the first ten minutes came and went, I swore I’d only wait ten more. That was over two hours ago and still no sign of him.
My stomach roils as worst case scenarios run through my mind. Someone jumping him, a horrible car wreck that has him lying on the side of the road half-dead, a thousand other horrific scenarios that make bile rise in my throat. But the best case scenarios aren’t exactly fun to imagine either. Did he go home with the bartender? He has every right to, of course, but I hate the thought of it anyway.
Footsteps echo down the hall, and I scramble to my feet, smoothing out my pants so it doesn’t look like I’ve been camping out on the floor outside his apartment for half the night. As soon as he comes into view, my heart beats a little faster, the sick feeling in my stomach replaced with a flutter.
“Bish,” I say his name, and he looks up. Instead of his usual smile—albeit sometimes reluctant—he looks exhausted. Not just physically exhausted either. There are bags under his eyes, and I can’t help but wonder if they’ve been there before this, and I just haven’t noticed.
I think back over the past few months, picturing his face and trying to recall if he’s looked this tired the whole time. But all I can see is a million expressions I’ve grown addicted to over the years— his irritated scowl when I say or do something stupid, his flushed, needy look as I take him apart with my mouth or slide my fingers inside him, the determined look he gets when he’s the one on top, the relaxed, happy expression that’s more rare than it used to be…
“I told you not to call me that stupid nickname,” he complains, but it lacks the usual venom that accompanies our back and forth. As he draws closer, I notice his clothes are wrinkled, and he smells like sweat and sex.
“Where’ve you been?” I ask, doing my best to keep the accusation out of my tone. I don’t have any right to tell him who he can and cannot go home with and vice versa. The system has been working well for us for years, so why would I want to go and fuck that all up now?
“Out,” he answers.
“I got that,” I mutter with annoyance as he skirts around me to his apartment door. “Mind if I come in?”
Bishop pauses with his hand on the doorknob, the key in the lock. His shoulders sag, and he lets his head fall against the doorframe.
“I don’t think so.”
The answer takes me by so much surprise my breath catches in my throat, and I have to go over it more than once in my mind to be sure of what I heard. I’ve known Bishop for twenty-five years, nearly our entire lives, never once has he told me no. When we were fourteen, I dared him to eat a worm, and he did it without question; when we were sixteen, I said it would be cool if he jumped off the ravine and he did it—and broke his arm for his trouble; and when we were twenty-five, I pulled him into bed for the first time after a few too many shots of tequila. Never once has he told me no.
Author K.M.Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she’s not writing she’s a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero…just kidding, she’s likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.
