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    Two Boyfriends Are Better Than One
    Two Boyfriends Are Better Than One
    Two Boyfriends Are Better Than One
    Ebook74 pages1 hour

    Two Boyfriends Are Better Than One

    By Guy New York

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Sadie has always fantasized about being with two men at once, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. When an old one-night stand with a new boyfriend offers her the chance of a lifetime, she can hardly contain her excitement — or her uncertainty. Will twice the romance distract her from her goals of graduating college with a 4.0 and summiting a treacherous mountain? Or will she find that two boyfriends are better than one?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBryant Street Shorts
    Release dateOct 8, 2020
    ISBN9781094413624
    Author

    Guy New York

    Guy New York is a bestselling erotica author, designer, and degenerate who spends most of his time either writing about sex or having it. Sometimes he does both at the same time, much to the chagrin of his partners. With more than 75 titles to his name — including four full-length novels, ten novellas, and numerous short stories — his books have been widely read and often burned. Visit his author site at www.guynewyork.com.

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    • 3/5
      Good read, kind of wished there were a little more to it.

    Book preview

    Two Boyfriends Are Better Than One - Guy New York

    Chapter One

    Sadie doesn’t think about running. Her legs move beneath her, her arms pump, and her breath is steady and even, but her mind is somewhere else. Right now, the important thing is her course load because, while school isn’t especially challenging, she’s determined to graduate with a 4.0.

    It started as a joke. Sadie was running along a trail (why go to school in Colorado if you run on roads?) when she realized it was possible. She had done well in her first three years of college but, since she was never one for long-term planning, she hadn’t really kept track of the numbers.

    But as she ran through an ice-cold creek, the water splashing against her calves, she made a snap decision: She would graduate with a perfect GPA, and her father would have nothing to complain about ever again.

    It was wishful thinking (the father part), but it was fun all the same. While he had encouraged her to go to school, he always made it clear that her brains weren’t her best feature. Sadie laughed as she turned up the path along the slope of the mountain, and she pictured his face, the disbelief plain as she told him the news. Of course, if you went to a real college, it wouldn’t have been so easy.

    She shook her head, scrapping the image as she continued along the trail, and she quickly let it go. There was no point in doing it for him, but she liked the idea all the same. A challenge here and there was a good thing, and Sadie was well aware that her motivations were strongly driven by goals. The goals themselves weren’t always super relevant, but having them was still paramount. Ten miles had been a goal in high school, followed by fifteen and then twenty. She met them casually, although that was complicated. Sadie knew she enjoyed running, so was it fair? If something was fun and came quickly to her, did her hard work and long hours matter?

    School was the same way. Her freshman year, Sadie took hard classes to make sure she kept herself busy and focused. While they didn’t come easily, they were manageable, and she finished her first year with straight As. It was satisfying, not just because of her father’s reactions but because she had set out to do it and accomplished it despite the struggles. As she looked forward, she knew that two more semesters wouldn’t be that bad and, during that time, she could continue her more casual quest of conquering the peak. Maybe conquer wasn’t the right word — it felt a bit too aggressive if she paused on it — but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a fight. The peak in this situation was Pike’s Peak, and the quest was to make the ascent in under three hours. For an experienced hiker and climber, six to eight hours was a good run.

    The world record, on the other hand, was two hours and twenty-three minutes.

    Part of her wondered if she might break that record, but while she was a competitive person, she preferred to compete only with herself. What others did or did not do wasn’t so important. But that run up the mountain — complete with scrambles, rocks, snow, and the wind — was something she loved more than almost anything in the world. She had done it a dozen times, but she had never tried it for time. It would be a challenge, but a fun one, and it would give her the time to think of school, daydream about some possible future, and keep her body out of the way as she ran.

    When Sadie found the fork in the path, only partly up the mountain (she took the trail back down rather than continuing up), she heard voices up ahead. There was laughter mixed in with the distinct sound of someone coughing, almost certainly from smoking weed. Around the bend, through the pines, and over the creek, she saw two girls sitting on a rock by the waterfall. They looked up, startled by the silent runner, and they were oddly quiet for what felt like far too long.

    Well, she’s a slut! one of them yelled after she passed them by, the girl’s breath caught in the wind as Sadie turned left and scrambled down the rough slope where the trail grew dry. As the laughter died behind her, Sadie found the words more confusing than anything else. Who gets high and mean-spirited? And what’s the point of yelling at another woman as if men didn’t already dominate that annoying activity? She also found herself pondering the irony of being called a slut when she hadn’t had sex in months. Even then, it was only with one person.

    She largely dismissed the unexpected insult as she ran along the rocky ridge. The view was beautiful so, for a long while, she let herself be distracted by the scenery. It was a chilly afternoon, the wind felt refreshing on her face and in her hair, and the crisp Colorado air still felt new and alive in her lungs. Even after three years, it surprised her how much better it was than the fog of New Jersey, where she grew up, and she swallowed it like it was water at the end of a marathon. The quality of the air was euphoric; it felt thinner and more vibrant at the same time. It was colder and brighter, and Sadie wished she could package it up and bring it home with her whenever she felt obligated to visit.

    Sadie paused at a particularly beautiful spot and stretched her calves as she looked out over the valley. As she leaned forward, she caught a glimpse of her T-shirt, and she found herself laughing at her airheadedness. The shirt had been her mother’s, a throwback to her wild life in the

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