by Ramona Gray
“Yes.” I turned to smile at Mason and Dane, my love for them overwhelming in its intensity. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
One year later
Naomi
“Fuck, I’m glad that’s over.” Mason sank down on the couch with a groan, loosening his tie with one hand while Dane poured three glasses of whiskey. I slipped out of my heels and sat next to Mason, tucking my legs up under me and smoothing down my dress as Dane handed a glass of whiskey to Mason.
“Thank you for going today. It meant a lot to me and to Joy.” I took the glass of whiskey from Dane and rested my free hand on his thigh when he sat down on the other side of me.
“Of course,” Dane said. “We wouldn’t have missed the sentencing, it’s the best part.”
I laughed and leaned my head on Mason’s shoulder. “It was rather satisfying to see the look on Dennison’s face when he got fifteen years in prison for human trafficking.”
Dane’s big hand massaged my thigh. “I know the last year has been hard for both you and Joy. Do you think she regrets going to the police about the cult and about Dennison?”
“No,” I said. “It’s been difficult, but she couldn’t leave the other women in Robert’s cult. She needed to save them too.”
“And she did,” Mason said.
“She did.” A smile crossed my face. “Did I tell you that she and Meredith found a place?”
“Oh yeah?” Dane said.
“Yes. Money will be a little tight because they’re both in University, but they found part time jobs and Joy said they’ll make it work. She was closest to Meredith during her exile in the cult and I know she’s glad they’re living together.”
“What about the other women?” Mason said.
I shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure what everyone is doing now that the trial is over, and Robert is in prison for the rest of his life. They were all at his sentencing last week, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to many of them.”
I lapsed into silence and stared at the whiskey in my glass. The last year had been difficult but Joy going to the police and exposing Robert and his cult and sharing the information that Dennison supplied most of the women to Robert, had been the right thing to do. All of us were asked to testify at Robert and Dennison’s trials, and I’d never loved Dane and Mason more than when they’d stepped up and testified without any hesitation.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done the last year,” I said to my two men. “Letting Joy live with us for so long, testifying, paying for therapy for both of us… we can never repay you.”
“You don’t have to,” Mason said. “It’s a gift. One we were happy to give.”
“Have you spoken with your parents?” Dane asked.
I took a sip of whiskey, letting it burn its way down my throat. “No. I told you – I’m never speaking to either of them again. I don’t care what my therapist says. Besides, no one knows where my dad is anyway. Joy talked to my aunt last week, Mom is still living with her in Ohio, but she hasn’t heard anything from Dad since the bank foreclosed on the house.”
Mason kissed my head. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“I’m not,” I said. “They deserve every bad thing that happens to them.”
There was more silence before I smiled at them. “Enough talk about my parents and the trial. That’s all in our past now and I want to concentrate on our future.”
“I’ll toast to that,” Dane said.
He raised his glass and the three of us clinked glasses. “To our future,” Dane said.
“Our future,” Mason and I echoed.
The three of us drank and I smiled at them. “Now, what do you say we go upstairs to the bedroom.”
“Don’t you have studying to do?” Mason said. “Your exam is tomorrow night.”
“I’ve been studying all week. It helps that Dane keeps giving me, like, two hours of study time at work every day.”
Dane kissed my cheek. “I want you to do well, baby. Besides, you’re so efficient at your job, it leaves plenty of free time in your day. You should be using that to study.”
“Did I tell you that Jemma’s mom asked me to redesign her kitchen?” I said.
“What? That’s great!” Mason said.
“I know, right?” I couldn’t stop my grin. “She didn’t even care that I didn’t have my design degree yet. Jemma showed her the photos of what I did to our kitchen and to the spare bedroom and her mom immediately hired me. I’m meeting with her next week to go over ideas.”
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Dane said before kissing me. “We both are.”
“Damn straight.” Mason pressed a kiss against my mouth as well.
Familiar heat pooled in my belly and I smiled wickedly first at Dane and then at Mason. “Why don’t you take me upstairs to the bedroom and show me exactly how proud you are of me with a pussy eating and then fucking?”
Both Mason and Dane laughed before draining their glasses and standing.
“Baby,” Dane said as he helped me to my feet, “your wish is our command.”
* * *
Looking for another hot and sexy threesome book? Check out an excerpt from Ramona’s novel, “Sharing Del”. Please note it is an m/f/m book but also has detailed scenes of m/m as well.
Sharing Del is available HERE
Sharing Del
Copyright ©2017 Ramona Gray
I’m twenty-five years old and I’m not a nice girl. Even my mama says I’m not nice. When I was sixteen, she sat me down and told me I was going to Hell. Told me that if I didn’t see the light and walk the straight and narrow, God would strike me down with every bit of righteous vengeance he possessed.
At the time, I just chalked it up to her being mad. She had after all, just caught me sucking Tommy Robertson’s cock in the confessional booth at our church. I can’t help it. I like boys. I like them a lot. I’m not really into what you would call the monogamous relationships. I’ve tried. I swear to the Mother Mary I’ve tried, but after a few weeks or a few months I get bored and I’m moving on to my next conquest.
I tried girls for a while. Figured maybe my problem wasn’t committing to one person but committing to one man. I hooked up with a bad girl named Raquel in my first year of college. Oh my sweet blazing Jesus, could that bitch eat pussy. I mean, the girl’s tongue was magic.
Turns out though, my issue wasn’t with men. After only a few months I was starting to get bored. I would have left Raquel if she hadn’t left me first. Well, maybe her leaving me isn’t exactly right. I packed my stuff and left when I came home one night and found her tongue-deep in the pussy of her lab partner. She called me a few times begging for forgiveness and I told her it was fine. I didn’t tell her I was about to leave her anyway.
Even though she cheated on me, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and I’m kind of worried you know? Worried that there’s something wrong with me that I can’t commit to just one person. I have three older sisters and all of them are happily married to good Catholic boys and popping out babies like they alone are responsible for keeping the Earth’s population going.
Last weekend I visited my oldest sister Angela. I left the city and headed for the suburbs, saying a silent prayer every few miles that my rust bucket of a car would make it. I sat at the dinner table, two toddlers clinging to my legs and a baby throwing up on my shirt and listened as Angela lectured me.
“Del, you’re going to kill Mama and Daddy. You know that, right? They worry about you constantly. Mama spends all her time at Mass praying for your eternal soul. You need to find the right person, settle down and have babies. Children complete your life – trust me on this.”
I rolled my eyes and wiped at the spit-up on my shirt. “Yeah, this feels like a really great time.”
Angela frowned and took the baby, cooing softly to him before wiping his face clean with the hem of her shirt. “I mean it, Del. Daddy’s been having anxiety attacks and Mama hardly sleeps at night. At least come to chu
rch with us once a month.”
Good old Catholic guilt. It’s alive and well in my family. My parents have seven children and I’m smack dab in the middle and the only one they fret about. My baby brother Mitchell gave them some trouble for a few months in high school, but they straightened him out pretty quick. I’m the only one they never could figure out or fix. The fate of my eternal soul causes them a lot of heartache.
Of course, my eternal soul is the last thing I need to be worrying about right now. Paying my rent, eating more than one meal a day – now those are the things that I really needed to concentrate on.
I moved to the city on a whim. I was tired of living in my parent’s basement in the suburbs. I was tired of listening to the lectures about why I failed at college and failed at relationships. Hell, why I failed at life.
I work at a dive bar on 17th Avenue. My tiny apartment on 5th Street has walls so thin you can hear my neighbour Jerry whacking off every night to reruns of the goddamn Golden Girls. My job and shitty apartment weren’t in the best areas in the city, but I carried my mace and know how to use it.
The problem is that I was barely scraping by to begin with and now my landlord has decided to raise the rent. Nine hundred bucks a month for a shit-ass apartment so tiny I can barely turn around in it without banging into the walls. Nine hundred bucks so I can take a two-minute shower before the water turns cold. Nine hundred bucks to watch mold growing on the walls and get to listen to an old balding man named Jerry cry out Bea fucking Arthur’s name in orgasmic pleasure every goddamn night.
I wasn’t going to miss it. Well… maybe Jerry.
I had two weeks left before I needed to move, and I hadn’t found anything in my budget. It left me with two choices – take a second job or get a new apartment with a roommate. I chose a second job because honestly? I don’t play well with others. Except I hadn’t found anything yet and time was rapidly running out.
“Del! You thinking of working tonight or ya just gonna stand there diddlin’ yourself?”
I scowled at the bartender. Mark could be a real asshole sometimes. The owner Bill wasn’t around a lot and Mark liked to pretend that he ran the place. I adjusted my short skirt, picked up my tray of drinks, and crossed the crowded bar.
It was Saturday night and it was going to be busy. Once a month Bill brought in a local band to play named “Killjoy”. They always brought in a huge crowd. Their lead singer Jesse had vocals of gold and filled out a pair of leather pants better than any man I knew. The first few months I seriously considered trying to get into those leather pants but after watching the groupies throw their panties on stage and flash their tits, I stopped even considering it.
Not that I don’t have a kickass body. I might be short but I’m curvy in all the right spots with a set of tits on me that could make a grown man cry. I’ve got long dark hair, bright blue eyes and thanks to my mama’s side of the family, milky-white skin. Maybe if I wasn’t about to be homeless, I’d have thought harder about seducing Jesse.
I set down all the mugs of beer but one at a table full of frat boys.
“Sweetheart, you get better looking every time you walk over here.” The leader of the group grinned at me with perfect white teeth. He was cute in a frat boy bratty kind of way. I briefly considered taking him home and showing him the night of his life and then rejected it. Fucking some random guy was no way to avoid my problems. Besides, he was too pretty for me. I liked them big and rough. Still, it didn’t mean I couldn’t flirt my way into big tips.
“Why thank you, handsome,” I purred and leaned over him, letting him get a good look down my shirt at my tits before I plucked the bills from his hand.
I turned to walk away and when he smacked me on the ass, I rolled my eyes before turning and giving him a wink. “You’d better watch it, big boy. You never know what I’ll do with that hand.”
“You can do anything you want to it, sweetheart.” The frat boy grinned again as his friends laughed loudly.
I set the last beer down on the table in the corner farthest from the stage. “Hello, Cash.”
“Del.” The big man nodded and took a drink of beer before handing me a few bills. I counted out the change and held it out to him, but he shook his head. I nodded gratefully and shoved the bills into my apron pocket.
Cash came in once or twice a month and always sat in my section. He was quiet, kept his hands to himself and was a big tipper. My favourite kind of customer. I waited a moment to see if he would take a look at my tits, but his gaze had already shifted to the stage where the band was starting to set up.
I headed back toward the bar. Cash never looked at my tits, never made rude comments and never drank more than three beers. At first it kind of bugged me that he never made a pass, but after a while I found it refreshing. Not that I wouldn’t have taken him up on it if he had. I mean, the man practically screamed sex and he was exactly the kind of man I liked. Big and broad shouldered, a permanent five o’clock shadow and tanned skin. Dark eyes and full lips, and if he didn’t have a nice hairy chest that a girl could run her fingers through, I’d eat my own apron. He always wore a scuffed leather jacket with a tight t-shirt, jeans and worn cowboy boots. Once when I had snuck out back for a cigarette near the end of my shift, I had seen him leaving on a motorcycle, a big old Harley that roared loudly in the cool night air.
My pussy pulsed at the thought of riding behind Cash and my panties were suddenly wet. Christ, I really did need to get laid. I didn’t have a chance with Cash, but the frat boy was starting to look better and better. There were sudden shrieks and I knew without looking that Jesse and the rest of Killjoy had taken the stage.
I leaned against the bar and watched for a few minutes. Jesse was wearing his usual leather pants only this time he had decided to go without the shirt. He usually ended up half-naked before the show was over anyway, guess he just decided it was pointless to even wear one. As he swayed in time to the music, I studied his upper torso. He was lean and absolutely ripped. Forget six pack, the man had a goddamn eight pack. His nipple rings glinted in the light and I thought about how nice it would be to pull on those rings with my teeth.
I shook my head. Jesus, I needed to get control of myself. My panties were soaked through and I was still leaking. I caught the eye of the frat boy and he gave me a wide grin. I smiled back. Frat boy wasn’t my first choice, but he’d do.
* * *
I slipped out the back door of the bar and studied the cigarette in my hand. I had quit six months ago, but occasionally bummed one from a co-worker. I lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. The smoke hit my lungs in a soft rush, and I blew it out gently. God, it had been a long night and my feet were killing me. I took another puff – I was already feeling a little dizzy from the nicotine – and leaned against the building. I had just finished cashing out and decided to have a quick smoke before I grabbed my things and took off. Frat boy and his friends had disappeared about ten minutes before the bar closed. I was disappointed but the part of me that wasn’t a complete whore knew it was for the best. A night of fucking sounded good, but it wasn’t going to solve my problems.
I sighed and took another drag on my cigarette. Tomorrow morning I’d –
“Hello, sweetheart.”
I spun around. Frat boy was standing behind me, leaning against the wall and smiling his straight-tooth grin at me.
“Well, hey there.” I socked out my hip and lifted the cigarette to my lips. He watched me take a drag, watched the way my lips sucked at the thin white cylinder and his grin widened.
“Tell me, sweetheart, you got plans after work?”
I shrugged. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
I stubbed out my cigarette and stepped closer. “Depends on you.”
He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth immediately. He had a large tongue and he was too eager and too determined to show me he was a good kisser. I pulled back and wiped my mouth off discreetly. Perhaps tonight wasn’t going to be
as fun as I thought.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.” Frat boy grabbed my breast and squeezed it roughly.
“Slow down, handsome.” I tugged his hand away. “Not so fast.”
He pushed me up against the wall and cupped my breast again. “Please, you’ve been practically begging me for it all night.”
I rolled my eyes, suddenly remembering why I didn’t fuck college boys. “Give me a minute to -”
He kissed my neck, his teeth nipping at the skin and I pushed him away. “I said, slow down.”
“Fine,” he pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Let me just grab my things and we’ll go,” I said.
He grinned and glanced behind his shoulder. I followed his gaze, frowning when I saw his three buddies climbing out of the car.
“Do we get a group rate, sweetheart?”
Anger flooded through me and I spit on him. “I don’t do groups, you little prick.”
He wiped the spittle off his cheek and looked at the liquid on his fingers in disbelief. “You bitch! Did you just spit on me?”
I reached for my can of mace, remembering too late that it was in my jacket in the bar. I backed up in the general direction of the door, glancing around as frat boy and his dickhead buddies drew closer.
“Listen, sweetheart, you’re going to come back to our place and you’re going to show us all a good time, okay? In the morning we’ll, I don’t know, take you out for breakfast or something to say thanks.”
“Fuck you, asshole!” I snarled. Without taking my eyes off of them, I reached behind me for the door handle. I cursed under my breath when I felt nothing but the rough brick wall of the bar. Where was the goddamn door?
With surprising speed, frat boy lunged for me. I opened my mouth to scream and he clamped a hard hand over my mouth. “Don’t do that, sweetheart. We just want to -”
He was ripped violently away from me and I pressed my body against the wall as he was thrown to the ground. He hit the pavement with a loud thud and cursed loudly.
