Exchange

by Katherine Rhodes

  Just as I had with her breasts, I pulled her into my mouth and suckled there, teasing with my tongue. She made delectable little moans, one hand flying to her own nipple to tease herself.

  “Fuck, Lincoln!”

  I wanted to continue tasting her, teasing her, but at the same time, my desire to be inside was too great. I needed her too much to wait, to draw her out much longer.

  Withdrawing my finger, tracing a trail from her entrance up over her clit, I crawled up her body. I kissed, nibbled, and licked everything in my path, taking a long, soft suck on her breast and trailing my tongue up her chest. I found the soft skin below her ear and placed a few kisses there before I feathered kisses along her jaw to her lips.

  After a moment of our tongues dancing against each other, Wren pulled back just a little. “Get your dick inside me, Lincoln. Please. Fuck me.”

  I could feel her warm, welcoming entrance as she opened her legs even further for me. Her hands found my hard length and fitted my head against her, holding me there so I could easily slide inside her.

  I did. Slowly, savoring every little distance I moved deeper into her. Tight, hot, I felt so comfortable there. It was like coming home to a place I didn’t even know I had missed.

  Her groan of pleasure carried her words. “Oh, God, yes, Lincoln. Yes.”

  Agonizing delight led me deep, and finally to her very depths, rooting my cock all the way inside Wren. She sighed, wrapping her hands around my shoulders.

  “Move, Lincoln. Make me feel you.”

  Careful at first, I drew myself back and forward again. I wanted this moment burned in my mind forever, the first time I bedded Temperance Warner.

  She watched me, fully there, fully present as I slid deep and nearly all the way back out of her. Her eyes were warm, and soft and it felt so right. I could see love there. I didn’t know how—and more frightening, it looked like old love, established love that had burned for millennia. Not only for me, for Fischer…and for others.

  Christ, who were we?

  “I want to feel you, Lincoln,” she breathed.

  Cradling her legs on my arms, I pressed up on them, putting her heels on my shoulders. Her sex was even tighter around me, causing a wonderful friction over her clit as I drove down. I reached down, and pressed my thumb over her clit, sweeping back and forth over her.

  Her breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered shut. Her breast moved with the rhythm of our bodies, and she pressed her hips into me.

  Wren wanted to feel me.

  Wrapping my hand around her hip, my smooth glide turned into a spike, a slam into her depths. She gasped and her eyes flew open, filled with a burning lust.

  “Yes, yes…”

  Grabbing her hand from my waist, I pressed her fingers to her clit. “Play with yourself.”

  “Oh, Christ,” she gasped, but her fingers were already moving over her heated bundle of nerves.

  I wrapped my other hand around her hip, leaning down closer to her, bending her legs back and wide. My fingers dug into her skin, yanking her hard against me. She yelped and tossed her head back.

  God, I could feel my orgasm bubbling at the base of my cock. I knew I was going to come soon, and watching Wren in her pleasure, watching my dick sliding in and out, listening to her gasps and moans pushed me faster and higher into my climax.

  Wren screamed, her orgasm taking her completely by surprise. Her face was a study in pained pleasure—la petite morte, it overwhelmed her. With her it was sheer pleasure, death by satisfaction, and as her pussy tightened around me, pulling me into her, my own little death took me and everything wavered around me, went dark, as I spilled my desire into her.

  “Oh fuck,” she gasped as I pulled her hard against me once, twice…again, again. My cock pulsed my cum into her harder than I had ever come before.

  The world came back as her legs fell from my shoulders, and draped on either side of me. I managed to slide to her side on the bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  “Shit.” The word was quiet in the postcoital silence of the room.

  Wren and I looked up just in time to see Fischer’s cock, clenched in his fist, erupt with his own pleasure. His eyes slammed shut as he pumped himself through the rest of his own orgasm.

  I laughed lightly. “Looks like we weren’t the only ones who liked it.”

  Fischer breathed hard in the chair, stroking himself down from the orgasm. “Holy shit, that was hot.”

  Wren lifted an eyebrow. “Well, now you have cum all over your pants.”

  Chuckling, he wiped his hand on his pants too. “There’s got to be a washing machine in this place somewhere.”

  I nodded. “There is. And we all need a shower now.”

  Cocking her head, Wren considered me. “Is the stall big enough for three?”

  A crooked smile slipped across my face. “Oh yes.”

  She paused. “Is the bed big enough for three?”

  “As long as Fischer takes off those cum-stained clothes.”

  Fischer snorted. “Says the man in the wet spot.”

  He was already out of his pants and stripping off his shirt as he walked to the bed. I moved closer to one side, and slid Wren with me. Fischer dropped down on her other side, and his hand found the smooth skin of her stomach, stroking it softly.

  “A nap, first,” Wren yawned, “then, a shower.”

  Fischer and I nodded, our eyes meeting over the body of the beautiful creature between us. This was going to take some getting used to.

  It didn’t feel wrong.

  Fischer

  The car was dark and nothing but the sickly greenish light of a cheap LED streetlight bulb gave us any illumination.

  Lincoln sat in the passenger seat of the beater he’d bought, playing with the latex glove in his hand.

  “You okay?”

  He shook his head. “Not even close.”

  “Good,” I answered.

  “Good?”

  I nodded. “You shouldn’t feel good about this. Not any of it. Not what we’re about to do, not what you did in that auction, not what I did to get Ellie truly free. Not one bit of it.” Scratching my nose, I looked around, still waiting for the car. “When you start to feel good about doing what’s right, when it is so clearly wrong by the letters of morality, then you have crossed a line.”

  “Who is the therapist in this relationship?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  “She rubs off on you.” I smirked.

  “Or on me,” he chuckled.

  Well, there was the opening I needed. “Are you okay with this?”

  “With…what?”

  “Sharing.”

  He scratched his head and stared out the window.

  I cleared my throat. “I hated you, you know. The first time I met you. You were an asshole to her and I wanted to put my fist in your face.”

  “Yeah, well. I was an asshole, so it worked out.”

  “Do you think both of us being in love with the same woman is a punishment?”

  “Fuck no,” Lincoln snapped. “Fuck no. Being in love with her is amazing, and more—knowing she loves us both, equally is a hell of a mindfuck.” He tapped his finger on the door panel quietly. “I’m fine with sharing. I might act like I’m some kind of paragon of masculinity and will fuck anything that sits still long enough—hell, I did that—but I’m way more lover than fighter. Getting to be hers…”

  Lincoln’s voice trailed off.

  Pursing my lips, I drummed two fingers on the steering wheel. “I get it. I thought I would have a lot more trouble with this. But watching you two last night, and then sharing her in the shower this morning…”

  “Jesus Christ, I’m hard just thinking about it.”

  Chuckling, I agreed with him. Sharing Wren in the shower that morning was one of the most erotic experiences of my life. And more, I couldn’t wait to share her again with him.

  A slow sigh escaped me. “It feels so damn strange to me that there’s not a single bone in my body that fee
ls wrong about this. Not one drop of jealousy or anger.”

  “Same.” He nodded. “Not a drop.” He swiped a hand over his mouth and stared a little more. “Is it strange I think there are going to be more of us?”

  I shook my head. “Wren and I talked about that feeling. There’s something going on we don’t understand, but we both think there are more of us…more partners in this.”

  “It was important you and I were here first, though, wasn’t it?”

  I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Yeah. It was. You and I are…important.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Where is all this coming from? All these thoughts, these suspicions? If we’re thinking the same thing, then this isn’t us wandering off on flights of fancy. There’s something.”

  “I agree, and I don’t know,” I answered. “Laxmi, Miriam, the twins, Elutheria…even Ben are all part of this.”

  “But we don’t know what this is?”

  “Not at all.”

  He plucked at the glove again. “I got another question coming at you from left field, man.”

  Canting my head, I gave him the side eye and waited for the question.

  “Bi?”

  I blinked. “Buy? Buy what?”

  “Sexual.”

  The question came together in my head. “Oh, me. Bisexual. Nah. I’m not perfectly straight—because let’s be honest…sharing the same bed with one woman? We’re going to get the sword crossed at some point—but I’m not into it.” I paused. “You?”

  “Yes.”

  That was completely unexpected. “You are?”

  “Fucked anything with a hole for most of college.” He chuckled. “I replaced that with alcohol when I had a run in with a client about my sexuality. Damn near drank myself to death between college and two years ago. Vance made me realize what I was doing and shoved me in rehab. I saw mostly women during my drunk days, but I had a few hook ups here and there. And then I met Wren and my dick just wouldn’t rise to the occasion for anyone but her.”

  “You okay with that?” I asked.

  “How could I not be,” he whispered. “She’s everything.”

  “Sexuality is so goddamn complicated.” I sighed.

  “Well yeah, but I’m not choosing sides here, I’m choosing her.” He snickered. “And there are toys, man, if I feel like being a little randy.”

  “So I’m going to find a giant dildo suction cupped to the wall of the shower?”

  He laughed. “And you’ll never know which one of us put it there.”

  “Oh, for the love of God.” I ran a hand down my face. “Life is just never going to be boring around you.”

  “Not if I can help it.” He snickered a bit more and settled back in the seat. “How are we going to handle this?”

  I peered over at him. “Usually with your own hand.”

  “Ha!” The laugh was loud and genuine. “Well played. No, I’m talking about our sleeping and living arrangements. We can’t be shuttling Wren or the kids back and forth.”

  Tapping my fingers on the wheel of the car, I sighed. “I mean, I guess I just assumed you’d move into our place. We have more than enough room for you and the twins, and it makes it easier…”

  He bobbed his head in agreement. “I have the feeling what I’m going to say is going to sound really weird, but what the hell is normal about this right now? I feel like you’re the alpha in this, and I’m your beta. But I’m not really a beta, so maybe lieutenant would be better. Kind of like wolf pack, except the female alpha doesn’t really need us to protect her, but she likes it. We’re there to keep the rest of the ragtag band inline and as such you and I get the area in the closest proximity to her. You in her bed and me there most of the time, but sometimes my own space adjacent to her. I don’t know what I’m saying anymore and I’m basically babbling.”

  The laugh escaped me, quiet and bemused. “You are babbling, but, I understand what you’re saying. Wren has called me her first.”

  “Are we meant to protect her?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t know a lot of what is going to happen now.” The silence hung between us for a moment. “Just, move in. We’ll figure this out as we go along.”

  Lincoln leaned over and put his head on my shoulder. “Aw. You like me.”

  Raising my eyebrow at him, I shook my head. “Not really. I just like the sounds you wring out of Wren when you’re fucking her.”

  He sat up straight. “Ooh, you’re a perv!”

  “It’s called voyeurism and it’s a kink.”

  “Mm, hmm. I’m sure it is. Just like my suction cup cocks on the shower walls.”

  “Just move in,” I grumbled. “We’ll figure this out as we go along.”

  It was quiet again, and it went on for a few minutes as still no cars appeared around the corner.

  “Where’s Vance?” he asked quietly.

  Lincoln let out a sigh. “I haven’t seen him. He apparently left…”

  “When?”

  He peered over at me. “Sometime around the time I was boning our woman.” Staring ahead again, he leaned his head on his fist. “I don’t know for sure. But he put me in bed, he took care of me and he’s…just gone. Not just him, but all of his clothes, his office was empty, his phone is off… He’s completely gone. He’s my best friend and I don’t know what happened. I’m going to try and track him down, but…”

  He let the words dangle, but I knew what he was going to say. “You don’t think he wants to be found.”

  Lincoln shook his head.

  “All because you slept with Wren?”

  “Who knows.”

  “I’ll help, as much as that’s possible. I liked the guy. He seemed like a stand-up man. He helped you through the whole auction thing and I think you helped him, too.”

  This time, the silence had a sad quality to. It bothered me that Vance had disappeared, which meant that Lincoln was really lost and confused about it.

  Eventually, Lincoln let out a long breath and looked forward again. He studied his nails for a moment, then glanced at me.

  “We good?” Lincoln asked.

  “We’re good,” I answered.

  Lincoln

  The big black Escalade cruised around the corner before Fischer could tell me the one thing that was on his mind. He waffled a bit and seemed to be just about ready to tell me when the massive SUV showed up.

  I liked extravagant things, but those always seemed over the top to me. Especially in the middle of the city where there were streets you could not drive a car down. They were narrow enough that you’d be hard pressed to even use a horse, which was what they were designed for.

  It rolled coolly down the street, past the unremarkable beater we were in, dressed head to toe in black.

  It figured Maguire had a second home in Fishtown. He wouldn’t want to sully his pristine Old City colonial, which was on the National Historical Registry, with something as gauche as a sex slave.

  A rage I didn’t know I could feel boiled through me. I knew this man. I had been to parties with him. I’d had him seated across from me at my desk to discuss financial goals. I knew his wife, his two children. We’d been at charity fundraisers together. He sponsored domestic abuse shelters.

  He was a complete fucking fraud.

  In the house he owned in Fishtown, he had at least one girl as a sex slave, and possibly Fischer’s future son. There was no way we were going to let this stand.

  That wasn’t to say I wasn’t nervous about what we were about to do. Fischer was cool as a cucumber, but I was like a bowl of Jell-O at Jurassic Park.

  He’d told me about how the heart attack Skillman suffered wasn’t truly a heart attack, and how Lily Haden had colluded to make sure medical examiner didn’t dig deep enough to find out.

  It had cost him a bit in the form of a large donation to several police benevolent associations. It was, he said, worth it. Ellie wasn’t haunted by the man.

  Now we were going to deal wi
th the man who was one of the grease pigs for the pipeline.

  “Brace,” Fischer said, quietly.

  I was ready. He jerked the car out of the parking spot and nailed the gas. We sped right into the passenger side of the Escalade. He hit the car hard enough to slam it into the telephone pole and smash the driver’s side.

  “Nice,” I whispered as we both jumped out of the car and raced around the vehicles to the doors.

  “I’m so sorry!” Fischer screamed, trying to pull the driver’s side open. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry!”

  “Fuck you!” the driver screamed.

  That wasn’t Maguire’s voice. His came from the passenger’s side in the back seat.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  I jerked the door open and found Maguire sitting there, stuck in the seat belt. “Can you get out?” I asked.

  “The hell? Foster?”

  Looking up, I pretended to notice him for the first time. “Oh, Mister Maguire! I am so sorry! We were just leaving the restaurant and…”

  “Just get us the fuck out,” he snapped, pulling on the buckle again.

  Leaning in and across the seat, I jerked the buckle myself. It was stuck. Jabbing the release did nothing. I jabbed and wiggled and pulled a few times, but it wasn’t working.

  This was my opportunity.

  “Hold on, I have to get my knife and cut this.”

  “Hurry up,” he barked.

  Shuffling back over to the car, I pulled the door open and made it look like I was pulling out the pocketknife from the glovebox.

  It wasn’t the only thing I was reaching for.

  Uncapping the needle, I aligned it with the pocketknife and rushed back over to the SUV. Fischer was still wrestling with the door as if he couldn’t pull it open, and gave me a subtle short nod.

  Maguire was still wrestling, and I leaned across. “Hold on, pull your hands away. I’ll cut this.”

  He folded his hands and huffed. “I can’t believe you hit this fucking vehicle. This is brand new and now I’m going to have to replace it.”

  I wanted to snort at him, but held it back. Like replacing this thing was a crime for his bank account.