Free Raising the Bar by Marie Harte

They’re married when it counts and gay when it doesn’t.”
    “It always counts when you’re gay.” He winked, his humor unaffected.
    “I’m glad you can laugh at this. I feel bad for saying anything, but I thought, if it was me, I’d want to know if my partner was unfaithful. And you’ve always struck me as a decent guy.”
    “Thanks. I think.” He smiled at her.
    Probably covering up that hurt with a manly show of “it doesn’t bother me, little miss ” . She sighed.
    “So tell me, did you talk to Dylan about this?” he asked.
    “I would have. But he had the nerve to call himself ‘Derrick’ and pretend he didn’t know me. What a jerk.”
    “Huh.” Harper turned away. “Would you…” He paused. “Do you think we could go to my room and talk about this? I need some space, and this closet is not it.”
    “Sure thing, Harper. Your room?” He kept a room on hand on the weekends, though he hadn’t used it in a while—with the exception of last week. She liked to keep tabs on her VIP guests, and she readily admitted to paying more attention to Harper than she should have.
    He nodded and let her walk him out. She looked over her shoulder at him a few times, making sure he was okay, and led him up the stairs. They entered his room and he shut the door behind them. It automatically locked, enclosing them in silence. A light flicked on in front of them, illuminating the small suite.
    To her shock, Dylan stood half-dressed, leaning against the dresser.
    She glanced at Harper, who didn’t seem surprised. So Harper wanted a confrontation with his lover. Well, she’d give him one.
    “Dylan.” Harper nodded.
    “Harper.” Dylan stared from him to Freddy with a frown on his face. “Everything okay?”
    “No, everything is not okay.” She marched into his personal space and poked him. God, what a perfect chest. Barely any body hair, and so much sculpted muscle. Focus, Freddy. Focus. “I saw you, Dylan. You and your girlfriend . Or should I call you ‘Derrick’?”
    He blinked and looked to Harper. “Is this for real?”
    “Yep.” Harper crossed his arms. “She didn’t want to butt in, but she wanted to help me out. You’re apparently a user and a cheat.”
    “You probably mean a liar and cheat, but okay.” Dylan calmly turned to her again. “Go on.”
    She didn’t understand why he wanted to continue the pretense of civility, but she wouldn’t let him get away with lying to Harper. “Harper knows. You’re playing at being gay while you date your straight-laced girlfriend.”
    He snorted. “If you’re talking about Sydney, I highly doubt that woman is straight-laced. She’s a wild one. Keeps Derrick hopping.”
    “Do you often refer to yourself in the third person?” she asked icily, feeling for Harper, who took the opportunity to step up and stand behind her. Problem was, that put her in closer contact with Dylan. “Um, Harper?”
    “Isn’t she something?” he asked Dylan and sighed. “So cute and caring, but with a hot temper. And she’s not wearing a bra. I love when she goes without, especially when she’s wearing a thin silk shirt. Like this one.” Harper put his hands around her and covered her less-than-ample chest.
    Her nipples peaked as if she’d stepped into subzero weather, and she felt embarrassingly wet. “Harper, what are you doing ?”
    “I want you like you can’t believe.” He rubbed against her, and she felt something hard prod her lower back.
    “But you’re gay.”
    Dylan chuckled. “Can I explain the situation?”
    “Oh, please do.” She glared at him. The cheater.
    “Harper is not gay. Like me, he’s bi.”
    “Mmm-hmm.” Harper nuzzled her neck and squeezed her nipples, and she couldn’t move, glued to the hot body behind her.
    “Also, for the record, Derrick and I are two separate people. He’s my twin brother, and Sydney, his girlfriend, lives with him. I expect they’ll be engaged by Christmas, in another…two weeks. Oh wow, I’d