by Krista Wolf
“Are you here for good?” Ryan asked, pushing forward. I could feel the pressure of his groin now, pressing against my heat.
“Yes.”
“You’re really with us?” Kyle asked. “All of us?”
“All of you,” I breathed, without hesitation. I turned to kiss him as well, just as slow, just as sensual. “All of me…”
I felt my legs being spread, by four different hands. Kyle pulling gently on one side, Dakota on the other.
And Ryan in the middle… the bulbous head of his manhood rubbing up and down through my folds. Straining against the wetness of the thin lace fabric — the only thing separating us from being whole again.
I reached down and pulled my panties to one side. Exposing myself fully. Inviting him in.
“Don’t shred these,” I teased. “I really like them.”
He laughed into my mouth. My giggle turned into a sharp sigh as he entered me, taking me deep, all the way to the bottom.
Oh God…
I felt two hands on my breasts, my top being undone…
My world turned white with ecstasy as Kyle and Dakota’s mouths settled over me on either side.
Thirty-Five
SAMMARA
“What do you mean you’re staying there?”
Dawn’s mouth hung open in almost comical dismay. She looked half-shocked, half-offended. Even half pissed off.
Wait a minute, that’s three halves. Never mind.
“I moved in,” I said simply. “The house is too important, too amazing to be left at risk. By living there I’ll have a constant, first-hand look at the renovations.”
“But… but work!”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll still be here. Every day, give or take. It’ll just be a little longer commute.”
Dawn poked at her salad with her fork. She still didn’t look satisfied. Not that I needed her approval or satisfaction, but she was my business partner after all. Things went smoother when she was happy.
“How much are we—”
“A good amount,” I assured her. “Trust me, this will be the biggest consulting fee we’ve ever had. Well worth it. You’ll just have to wait for the details.”
Honestly, I’d told the guys I wouldn’t be taking a dime from them. They were my boyfriends, and now they were my live-in boyfriends, which meant the house was my home as well as theirs. I wasn’t going to charge anything, no matter what they tried, and yet that particular point had been a deal-breaker for them. Kyle, Dakota, Ryan — all three of them had united in insisting that I’d be paid well for my ‘work’ in helping with the renovation, which was really just a labor of love.
I’d tried to argue, tried to fight them on it. But they wouldn’t have any of it.
“Look, it’s not really a big deal,” I said, popping a crouton into my mouth. “It’s just—”
“It’s just that you’ll be really far from the office!” she said.
I waved her away. “Not that far.”
“And distracted.”
“Distracted?”
Dawn stopped talking and set down her fork. She looked back at me stoically, without expression. I had the impression she had something to tell me, and I wasn’t going to like it.
“Which one of them are you fucking?” she asked.
The question was so abrupt I almost choked on my Diet Coke. I set it down, coughing, as I reached for my napkin.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked which one of them you’re screwing,” she shrugged, as if it were no big deal. She picked up her utensil and began casually eating her salad again. “I figured it was one of them, I just wanted to know which—”
“Are you kidding?” I interjected.
“What, you didn’t think I’d snoop?” Dawn snapped. “My only other employee—”
“Partner!”
“Fine,” she conceded with an eye-roll. “My only partner runs off with three Army guys and disappears into a lakehouse for two weeks and I’m not supposed to be curious or know anything about it?”
I didn’t know how she’d found out, but it probably wasn’t that hard. As an internet detective Dawn was a real wizard. If our business continued its slow collapse, she could always get a job as a private detective.
“Look, I know you’ve got three soldiers living there with you,” she said nonchalantly. “I was just wondering if you’re sleeping with one.”
“Well the answer is no,” I said coldly. Technically it wasn’t a lie. I was sleeping with all of them, not one of them.
Oddly, that answer seemed to cheer her up a bit. Dawn looked back at me apologetically, with just the hint of a smile. “That’s good,” she said. “I’m glad to hear you’re keeping it uncomplicated.”
Uncomplicated…
Yeah, right.
“Mixing business with pleasure is never good,” she said. “And I have to say you look happy, Mara. Refreshed. I guess you really needed a vacation after all.”
“I came to the office twice, and worked the whole time I was away,” I said, trying to hide the callousness in my voice. “I even loaded the Santiago truck.”
“I saw.”
“So yeah, it was a working vacation more than anything else,” I sighed. “Which reminds me — how are those two new projects going?”
Dawn blinked. She stared back at me like I’d just told her she was pregnant with triplets.
“W--What?”
“The new projects. The ones you started working on while I was away.”
“What are you talking about?”
My eyes narrowed. Either she didn’t understand what I was referring to, or—
“I saw the folders, Dawn. They were on your desk.”
Her shoulders slumped. The crease between her eyes deepened in what looked like anger.
“You went through my desk?”
“No, not through your desk. On your desk. Right on top. Two new projects, complete with scale layouts, and a fiscal breakdown of—”
“You shouldn’t be touching my desk,” Dawn said coldly. “Or anything on it.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Sort of like how you shouldn’t be delving into my personal life? Who I’m living with? Dating? Fucking? That sort of thing?”
She ignored me. “Those proposals were turned down, unfortunately. I never got the deposit.”
My mouth went tight. That part didn’t make sense. There was too much work put into them, they were too far along.
“What happened?”
She shrugged again. “I’ve been pretty swamped. You know, working all alone. I’m sure I screwed something up.” The comment was underhanded, borderline passive-aggressive. I weathered the jab until she kept going. “I probably botched the meetings, to be honest. You were always the smiling personable one.”
Damn. They were big projects. We could’ve used them.
“All the more reason you should stay close to the office.”
The office…
I sighed resignedly. Not exactly giving in, but no longer challenging her either.
“I promise the move won’t affect work,” I said. “And we’ll get some more projects. Well catch up on things.”
Dawn stared at me a moment longer, then lifted her glass in truce. I toasted her. We drank.
“Wanna hear about the Victorian?” I smiled.
It was the one common bond we shared, and always would: our love of ancient architecture. At mere mention of the house, Dawn’s whole face lit up.
“Yes!”
“Then pull your chair over here,” I grinned. “And let me show you some photos…”
Thirty-Six
KYLE
“And that’s what he said? You’re absolutely sure?”
Dakota nodded as he made the last turn into the base. His truck slowed and the guard lifted the gate before he even held up his ID.
“Three times I asked him,” Dakota explained. “And three times he told me he’d taken care of it.”
“He bette
r have,” I said. “Because we’re not putting her in danger again.”
It was unacceptable, what had happened. What Ryan had encountered out in the city, and what Sammara had to go through. She went through it without explanation too, which was miraculous in and of itself. For me, that was the worst part about the whole thing.
“I still want to tell her,” I said. “At least let her know that—”
“I’ve already let her know,” Dakota replied. “Well, some of it anyway. Ryan and I talked to her last night. She was actually very cool about it.”
“Cool?” I barked a short laugh of disbelief. “How the hell could she be cool about it?”
“Because she is cool,” Dakota re-iterated. “You already know that.”
We slid into the parking spot and he killed the engine. The big truck rumbled to a halt as he tucked the keys away.
“Look, I don’t like it any more than you,” Dakota admitted, “but for now, the only thing we can do is sit tight.”
Sit tight.
The words sounded utterly ridiculous. I don’t think any of us had sat tight our entire lives, much less now that there was open danger involved.
“We have to let Briggs do his thing,” Dakota pleaded. His look told me that he’d practically read my mind. “He’s got the best men working on it. You know they’ll come through.”
“Hopefully.”
“Definitely.”
I cocked my head. “In time, I mean.”
We sat in silence for a moment as the gravity of the situation sank in. I hated everything that was going on. Most of all I hated lying to Sammara, or at the very least not telling her everything.
I knew Dakota did too.
“Briggs had better be right,” was all I said. “I know he’s giving us every piece of intel he has, but not even he knows everything.”
“He knows most things though,” countered Dakota. “And he knows this.”
“Maybe.”
“Almost certainly.”
I shook my head. “She’s innocent,” I sighed. “And completely in the dark. Almost isn’t good enough. Not for me.”
Dakota looked back at me, and for once his expression was uneasy. I could tell that the whole thing didn’t sit well with him either. It left a bad taste in both our mouths, but for now there was nothing we could do. Briggs was pretty much telling us to swallow it.
“He’s not just doing this for himself,” Dakota pointed out. “He’s doing this for all of us. Even her.”
“I know.”
“So you’ve gotta trust him. You’ve gotta let him do his thing.”
Our friend’s ‘thing’ was incredibly dangerous, always was. Yet no matter how much we’d been through together, all four of us? Briggs had never once let us down.
“Alright?” Dakota was asking.
“Okay fine,” I sighed. It wasn’t like I had a choice, really. “When’s he due back?”
“He’s not sure,” Dakota replied. “But it’ll be sooner rather than later.”
“He said that?”
“Yup.”
That made me feel a little better. There were a certain number of things Briggs wasn’t ever wrong about. When it came to the end of his deployment, he always knew.
We exited the truck, and for the rest of our conversation our voices went low. The path leading up to the building’s big metal door was clean and smooth and immaculately swept. Silently I wondered how many more times I’d be taking it.
“Now,” said Dakota, “let’s talk about the real question here.”
“What?’
He stopped walking. So did I.
“What do we tell the Commander?” he practically whispered.
I glanced forward, looking at the small, squat building with the reinforced door. It sat there staring back at us like an armored tank. Like an obtuse metal box amongst the cluster of sleek, low-slung quonset huts.
“Follow my lead,” I said, suddenly walking again. “And obviously, don’t say anything about what actually happened…”
Thirty-Seven
SAMMARA
Time passed. The seasons changed. The weeks spun out into months… and all of them were glorious.
I’d fully moved in by the end of summer. Fall turned the leaves yellow and orange, and a cold snap ended the constant heat, ushering in my favorite time of the year.
Melissa helped me sublet my apartment for the remainder of my lease. I told her everything — every dripping detail of what had happened — and as I suspected she was the one person truly thrilled for me when she heard the big news.
As a friend, she was totally without equal. Always happy for others. She loved me for who I was no matter what I did, and apparently, no matter how many guys I dated at once. Laughingly she told me she didn’t actually envy my predicament; I’d have four times the fights, four times the drama, four times the birthdays to remember.
“You do know I’ll also have four times the fun?” I reminded her. “Four times the love and adoration?” I smiled and winked at her. “Four times the sexual attention?”
She’d punched me in the arm after that and turned red. “Okay, fine,” she’d told me. “Four times the foot rubs too,” she swore. “Shit. Maybe I am a little jealous…”
The renovation went famously, with the exterior of the house getting wrapped up first. It was amazing how quickly things went when you had an unlimited budget, and my little black credit card never failed to deliver. Edward was more careful about who he hired, and even took my input on several of the new subs. We splurged on the best woodworkers, the best plasterers, the best painters and restoration experts. Each had his or her own task by way of bringing the house back to its original splendor, and together we kept a careful eye on them as they did their thing.
As for Dawn, she never really got over the move. She’d constantly drop passive-aggressive comments about me spending too much time at the house, and not enough in the office. It made little sense really, because business was incredibly slow and the house project was now paying most of our bills. If anything I was hungry for work rather than burdened with it, but somehow Dawn always seemed busy and constantly flustered.
For the most part I ignored her. It was sad the way our relationship had devolved; what had originated as a beautiful partnership and even a friendship had soured into an unwanted daily chore. Even increasing our advertising budget failed to bring in that many new clients, and it started to feel like we were just spinning our wheels.
“You know you don’t really have to work,” Kyle had once told me. “Right?”
I chuckled softly as we lay sprawled on the couch, nestled against one another. “Oh no?”
He glanced down at me and shook his head.
“Then you don’t know me as nearly well as you think you do,” I smiled as I kissed his nose.
The Sammara of a months ago might’ve gotten offended at the comment, or even considered it misogynistic. Yet in my heart, I knew he meant well. The guys had so far treated me with nothing but respect and admiration. They simply wanted to take care of me, and I loved them dearly for it.
In truth, I was learning to love them for lots of things.
Kyle and I bonded over all things old. He learned to share my love for history, and came with me on tours of old properties whenever I asked. We took weekend excursions all the way up and down the east coast, from Louisiana as far as New England. Dakota came with us sometimes, and we stayed at everything from five-star hotels to two-hundred year old bed and breakfasts.
We could never stay long though, and that was the downside. For now at least, we could never stray too far from the base, for any significant length of time.
But while we were away? Our relationship was always intense. The guys had no problem showing me off in public, when it came to PDA. I was kissed, held, swept off my feet and made love to whenever they wanted… or whenever I wanted, which was often.
Ryan on the other hand liked to stay local. We’d take day-long trips
on his motorcycle, where I’d spend hours just leaning against his broad back, clutching him tightly with both arms. Wherever we ended up, we always stripped down and fell all over each other Because as much as he enjoyed sharing me with the others, physically and emotionally, there was always this underlying intensity between us whenever we were alone.
Halloween came, and rather than sit home answering the door for trick-or-treaters we decided to dress up and go out. I made the mistake of letting the guys pick my outfit, which ended up being the shortest-skirted cheerleader in history. It was kind of funny, bar-hopping with three big football players constantly rubbing up against me. Listening to everyone around us joke about how I’d be having a ‘good time’ later, not even realizing that all three of them would in fact be taking turns on me. The evening ended with a sex-fueled cab ride back to the house, where I got to fulfill each of my boyfriend’s lifelong cheerleader fantasies, while living out my own dirty dream of being nailed by the football team.
I had a lot of dirty dreams like that actually. I just never thought I’d fulfill them.
The weather grew colder, and we began lighting one of the mansion’s several fireplaces. It became a nightly thing for us; gathering around its soothing warmth, talking about our pasts, the present, and even the future. I learned a lot about what each of my boyfriends did, both before and after they enlisted. Kyle talked about his time as a demolition specialist, touring in Afghanistan. To my surprise I found out Ryan was actually airborne. For a good part of his service he’d been part of the 75th Ranger Regiment, with over seven hundred jumps under his belt.
As for Dakota… well, he didn’t say much about what he did. He’d ‘learned to shoot’ at home back in Iowa, and had been doing so for the Army ever since. One night while we were alone, Ryan let slip that he’d been a Special Forces sniper. Dakota would be called in for missions where ‘high value targets’ were involved, and he’d received both medals and citations for individual shots he’d taken.
