Chapter 6: The Negotiation
The silence in Suki’s bedroom stretched, thin and delicate as blown glass. Aidan’s question hung there, unanswered. What did happen now? The professional collided with the profoundly personal, and the air felt charged with the aftermath.
Finally, Catriona moved. She stood, the mattress shifting, and padded barefoot to the en suite bathroom. The sound of running water broke the spell. She returned with a warm, damp washcloth, which she handed to Suki without a word. It was a simple act of care, mundane and intimate, and it did more to ground them than any conversation could have.
Suki took it, cleaning herself with a clinical efficiency that felt at odds with the languid heat in her limbs. Aidan found his boxers and pulled them on, then fetched his t-shirt from the floor. The act of getting dressed, even partially, reintroduced a semblance of normalcy.
“I need a drink,” Suki said, her voice still a little rough. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the pleasant ache between her thighs, and retrieved her silk robe from a hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around herself. “A real one.”
They reconvened in the minimalist kitchen, the city’s morning glow now a pale, insistent light filtering through the windows. Suki poured three fingers of whiskey into crystal tumblers, the clink of ice loud in the quiet. She handed one to Catriona, who leaned against the counter, and another to Aidan, who stood awkwardly by the island, looking like a guest who’d overstayed his welcome.
Catriona took a sip, studied Aidan over the rim of her glass. “So. Thoughts?”
Aidan ran a hand through his already-wild hair. “My thoughts are… scrambled. That was…” He shook his head, a faint, disbelieving laugh escaping him. “I don’t have a word for what that was.”
“Good,” Suki said from the sink, her back to them. She took a long swallow of her drink, feeling the fire trail down to her stomach. “It should be. If it was just okay, the footage would be useless.”
The word ‘footage’ landed with a tangible thud. Aidan’s expression shifted, the dazed pleasure hardening into something more focused. “Right. The footage.”
“It’s raw. Untouched.” Catriona’s eyes were bright, analytical. “The lighting was perfect. The angles… Suki, when you came the second time, your face was… God, it was pure. And the finish.” She looked at Aidan, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “The camera loves a happy ending. It got everything.”
Aidan felt a strange twist in his gut—pride, possession, and a sharp spike of vulnerability. They had a recording of him, at his most exposed, buried inside his wife’s best friend. His release. Their sweat. Every gasp. “Who edits it?” he asked, his voice lower.
“I do,” Suki said, turning around. She met his gaze, her professional armor clicking back into place. “I have a whole process. Color grading, sound mixing, blurring anything that needs a blur for the previews.” She paused, her cool demeanor faltering for a second. “You get final approval. On everything. Before it goes anywhere.”
The offer was a life raft. Aidan nodded slowly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Okay. Yeah. That’s… that’s fair.”
“It’s more than fair,” Catriona interjected, moving to stand beside her husband. She slid her arm around his waist, her head resting against his shoulder. “This is a collaboration. A three-way contract. We’re all in control.”
Suki watched the easy way they fit together, the way Catriona’s possessive touch was also a gesture of solidarity. A tiny, sharp filament of jealousy sparked and then died, irrelevant. This was the deal. This was the structure that made the insanity possible.
“The subscribers are going to lose their minds,” Suki said, finishing her whiskey. “The comments were already speculating after a few teasers I dropped. A full video with a male talent—a connected, recurring male talent—it’s exactly what the algorithm craves.” She sounded like she was pitching a venture capitalist, but her knuckles were white where she gripped the glass.
Aidan finished his own drink. “A series, you said?”
Catriona squeezed him. “That’s the idea. Not just a one-off. A story. Build-up, tension, different… scenarios.” Her voice dropped to a murmur only he could hear. “You seemed to enjoy the scenario tonight.”
He had. God, he had. The memory of Suki’s body, the tight, clutching heat of her, the broken sounds she made—it flashed in his mind, visceral and immediate. He felt a responding stir of interest and guilt, a confusing cocktail. He cleared his throat. “So we… plan this? Like a production schedule?”
Suki barked a laugh, the sound startlingly genuine. “Jesus, Aidan. Yeah. I’ll send you a Google Calendar invite. ‘Video shoot: hardcore intimacy, bring your own ego.’” She pushed off the sink, her robe swaying. “Look. It doesn’t have to be weird. We’re friends. We just… added a new dimension. A very profitable one.”
“It is weird,” Aidan stated bluntly, but he was smiling now, a slow, familiar, easy smile returning to his face. “It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. But… I’m not saying no.”
The relief in the room was palpable. Catriona kissed his shoulder. Suki’s posture relaxed, the fierce independence softening into something like gratitude.
“Good,” Suki said. She walked to the kitchen island, picked up her phone. “Then the first order of business is you two come over tomorrow night. We watch the raw cut together. You give notes.” She looked up, her green eyes catching the morning light. “We see what we made.”
The proposition was its own new kind of intimacy. Watching it back, together, in the cold light of day. Aidan imagined it—his own groans filling Suki’s sleek living room, seeing his hands on her hips, seeing the moment he lost control. It was exposing in a whole different way.
Catriona’s grin was electric. “A private screening. I love it.”
Aidan looked from his wife’s thrilled face to Suki’s determined one. He was outnumbered, and he was in over his head. But the water, for all its strangeness, was warm. He nodded.
“Tomorrow night,” he agreed.
He had twenty-four hours to figure out how to look himself in the eye while watching what they’d done. The thought was terrifying. And, he reluctantly admitted to himself, stirring something dark and eager deep in his gut. He was already wondering what scenario they’d think of next.