One For All: A Reverse Harem Box Set

by Mia Moon

  I nestled under the covers with Samantha, and she kissed my lips softly when I stretched my naked body next to hers. We were spooning, with her back to my chest, when Shaun came in. He climbed in on her other side and kissed her forehead.

  I want to say we got some sleep that night, but we didn’t. The air became heavy with the scent of sex and our whispered words of encouragement drew out cries of pleasure from our girl.

  Shaun and I couldn’t keep our hands off Samantha’s beautiful breasts, her ass or her pussy, so there in the dark, we made it our mission to give her as many orgasms as possible until she begged us to allow her to sleep.

  “You guys are never going to believe this!”

  Samantha’s throaty voice called out to Shaun and me in the kitchen. We were making breakfast, while Sam was on the sofa, watching a show about dogs and reading a book on her phone for a class she was taking.

  “What?” I called out.

  Sam came busting in, her breasts bouncing underneath her flimsy dress from the night before. She hadn’t bothered to put on her bra or underwear, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shaun or me.

  “Taylor’s coming home! His bank wants him to be president of three local branches here! He’ll be back this afternoon and wants to see all of us tonight!”

  Shaun and I stared at each other. Samantha looked at both of us.

  “I know what you’re thinking…” she said. “You’re trying to figure out what to tell him about this.” She pointed at me, Shaun, and then herself.

  We both nodded. Shaun flipped an egg in the pan with a spatula.

  “Let’s just tell him the truth.” Samantha grabbed a piece of bacon off a plate. “I mean, if we’re okay with it, he can either be okay with it or not.”

  In high school, Taylor was the one who always got more pussy than any of us. We were all standouts on the football team and all straight-A students. But something about Taylor, girls went nuts over. And Taylor, even from a young age, had very specific tastes. Tastes that only Shaun and I knew about — we’d never told Sam.

  Shaun laughed. “I think he’ll be fine with it. Or he might want to join in.”

  Samantha frowned. “Taylor? He was always so straight.”

  Now Shaun and I were cracking up. “He just didn’t want you to know what he was into,” I said. “He thought you’d hate him.”

  Samantha’s blue eyes went wide as saucers. “What was he into?”

  “He found a fetish porn. Ropes. He got off on the restraints. He told us one night when we were all drunk that he’d tied up a cheerleader with a rope he had in his truck. Said it was the best sex he’d ever had.”

  A little smile crept onto Samantha’s face and she grabbed another piece of bacon and walked out.

  “Well, this will be interesting,” Shaun said, smirking.

  Chapter Seven

  SAMANTHA

  I never dreamed I would have a threesome, much less a threesome with two of my best friends from high school. And now that I was back in my house, hours after being with Shaun and Rex, I was still grinning from ear-to ear.

  And even better, Taylor was coming home. When we were in high school Taylor and I had the most unusual relationship out of any of the three guys. Sure, I was as close to him as the other guys, but he was always more like a big brother to me. More protective, somehow, and more serious. I didn’t joke around with him like I did the other two.

  I shivered when I thought about what Rex said, about how Taylor loved to tie girls up and how he didn’t want me to know. I imagined Taylor tying me up and all three having their way with me. It made me wet just thinking about it.

  But why hadn’t Taylor told me? Did he think I’d be disgusted? And surely he wouldn’t want to do that with me. Or with me and Shaun and Rex.

  I frowned, staring into my underwear drawer. It was my second day off in a row, thank God, because I needed sleep after the last two days of nonstop sex.

  I picked up a pair of white panties, then stuffed them back in the drawer. I wasn’t sure panties were an option tonight. Instead, I’d wear thigh-high black fishnets — a classy kind of stocking, with small holes, not anything garish — and a sexy, black push-up bra.

  It would go well with the conservative little black dress I’d picked out, the nicest dress in my closet. The four of us were meeting at the nicest restaurant in town, a funky place that was in an old hotel.

  As I was sitting on my bed putting on my high heels, I heard a crash, like the sound of glass breaking. My heart pounding, I walked into my living room. Nothing was amiss, and I peeked out the window and gasped.

  The windshield of my SUV was smashed in.

  “Bastards,” I said aloud. It was only seven at night. I needed to get out of this neighborhood. But how? The rent here was so cheap because my friend’s parents were giving me a deal while I was in school.

  But there was no way I could drive myself to the restaurant tonight. I’d insisted to Shaun and Rex that I’d drive myself, since they had other things to do. But now, it was impossible.

  I dialed Shaun since he lived a little closer.

  “Hey, doll,” he said.

  “Hey, uh, I think I need a ride. I’ll explain when you get here.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Shaun was on the street, looking into my car. “What the hell is this?” he pointed into the car.

  I peered in. “I guess that’s the rock that they threw into my car. But that’s weird. Nothing’s gone from the inside. Not the change in the console or this shopping bag. Nothing.”

  “Stand back.” Shaun took the keys from me and carefully opened the driver’s side door. With his big hand, he reached in and pulled out the rock. When he turned it over, I gasped.

  CUNT was scrawled on it in red paint.

  “Oh my God.” I started to shake.

  Shaun looked at me with hard eyes. “Do you know who might have done this?”

  I swallowed a lump of fear in my throat. “My ex-husband. I have a restraining order against him. But he hasn’t been great at following it. I’ve had to go back to the judge to get it enforced.”

  “Motherfucker,” Shaun whispered, his blue eyes flashing. He looked to my little cottage, then at me. “You’re staying at my house tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes through the tears that were starting to pool. “You don’t have to do that, just because we—”

  “No. I will not take no for an answer. Your house is in a bad neighborhood, your ex appears to be insane, and I don’t like any of it.”

  “I’ve been here for six months.” I fold my arms. I’m trying to act stubborn because I don’t want to be a burden to Shaun, or anyone.

  “I don’t care if you’ve been here for six years. I don’t get a safe vibe from any of this. So go inside and pack an overnight bag. I’ll be out here calling to get your car towed.”

  I licked my lips. “Thank you,” I murmured, then stood on my toes to kiss his cheek.

  I was still shaking when I went inside. Damn Zack, my ex. He was a bartender and a musician and I thought he’d been the love of my life. But I quickly learned that he was only loving when sober, and days of sobriety were few and far between.

  I’d heard recently from a mutual friend that he’d also been doing coke, a fact that I’d tried to ignore. I wanted nothing to do with my ex, and Shaun was probably right — this wasn’t the safest neighborhood. If my ex decided to try anything, no one would care. Case in point, my car. Not one neighbor seemed to give a damn.

  Hoisting my backpack with my school work over my shoulder, and toting a floral duffel bag, I rolled my eyes at my image in the mirror as I walked out of my cottage. I had on my cute dress and heels, and the bags made me look like a homeless woman. Tears welled in my eyes.

  I was twenty-six and still hadn’t gotten my shit together. I had one semester left of school, a waitressing job and no career in sight. I was a loser, especially compared to Shaun, Rex and Taylor.

  Shaun saw me and quickly took my two bags.
I followed him to his truck, and he opened the door for me.

  “The towing service will be here soon, I’ve taken care of everything. Hey, what’s wrong?” he demanded. Of the three guys, Shaun was always the most perceptive of my feelings.

  “Nothing.” I sniffled, hoping my eye makeup wasn’t running.

  He stared at me and pushed my bags in the back of my seat.

  “Nothing,” I insisted.

  I slid into the seat and he came around to the driver’s side and climbed in. His large hand covered my knee. “I want you to be safe. That’s all.”

  “It’s not that. It’s that I feel like a loser around you and Rex…” A fat tear rolled down my cheek.

  “Oh, Sam.” He wrapped his arms around me. “You’re anything but a loser.”

  I blubbered on about not having a degree.

  “You were there for your mother and your family when your dad got sick. You stuck by him when he died,” he said fiercely, kissing my temple. “You told us last night you volunteer once a week doing art therapy for disabled kids. You’re kind and smart and giving. How does any of that translate into being a loser? You’re amazing.”

  He put his fingers under my chin and tipped my head up. When he shot me that megawatt smile, I couldn’t help but grin.

  It was then that I noticed what he was wearing: dark wash jeans, a black T-shirt and a black blazer. It was so simple and sexy that I paused for a moment, setting aside my anger and shock over my car.

  Shaun was gorgeous.

  “You’re adorable, you know that?” I said.

  He shot me a little self-satisfied smile. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  We laughed, and he drove away.

  The Forge was in the bottom floor of a historic, 100-year-old hotel. It sported soaring ceilings, tile floors, marble staircases leading up to the hotel’s rooms, and low, sensual lighting.

  Shaun and I arrived and Rex was waiting for us at the bar.

  “Look at you,” Rex murmured as he kissed my cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed up, Sam.”

  “You’re pretty handsome yourself, Mr. Horton.”

  Rex shot me his megawatt smile. He looked surprisingly hip: a light blue blazer, with a white T-shirt and grey jeans. His dark hair had been freshly cut, and I longed to skim my fingers up his neck, past his hairline and to scratch his scalp with my nails.

  Like I did last night when he’d entered me. A small shiver of pleasure went through me and I blushed a little as Rex and Shaun gawked at me. “You don’t have to stare. Yeah, I wear something other than jeans and t-shirts occasionally. When I feel like it.”

  “We might have to buy her a few more dresses like that so she’ll feel like it even more,” Shaun remarked.

  We hung out at the bar for a while, ordering drinks and talking about U-T’s football team. I’d wondered if it would be awkward to spend time with Shaun and Rex after all we’d done the previous night. But somehow sitting and chatting was even easier now than it was before. It was like I was with my best friends.

  Except, the ever-present sexual current was turned up to eleven. I’d glance at Shaun and his bright blue eyes would rake down my body. Or I’d stare at Rex, and he’d lick his bottom lip or reach out and sweep a lock of hair out of my face.

  I adored being the object of their attention.

  When I felt a pair of hands slip around my eyes, I yelped.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you.” The man’s voice was a low growl, and I almost didn’t recognize it.

  I whirled around, and the breath was stolen from my chest when I saw him.

  Taylor.

  His short, fawn-colored hair was tousled, and his green eyes pierced my heart. He wore a suit, a proper, charcoal suit, along with a red-and-black tie.

  Now it was my turn to gape. “When did you start looking like a CEO?”

  I wasn’t sure if he heard me because he was slapping Rex on the shoulder and shaking Shaun’s hand.

  Taylor turned to me and flashed me a smile that would make me drop my panties — if I were wearing any. “I just came from meetings. Didn’t have time to change.”

  He turned back to Rex and Shaun and they started ribbing and joking with each other. I took a half step away and watched them, captivated.

  They were the three hottest guys at the bar. Several women openly stared at them, which wasn’t a surprise. I wasn’t jealous, though — if I didn’t know them, I’d stare, too. Actually, I was proud to be with them, turned on, even, that they were all with me tonight.

  “Horton, party of four?” a waitress in a black shirt and black pants called out.

  “Right here,” said Rex, and we all followed her to our table. It was a curved booth, set in a low-lit corner of the dining room. It had red leather seating that felt smooth to the touch as I slid in.

  I sat between Taylor and Rex, the white tablecloth covering my lap. One of the guys ordered a bottle of wine and appetizers for the table, and I sat sipping my wine and listening to them banter and joke.

  It was like high school again, only we were dressed up. Back then, I’d enjoyed being around them, knowing I was part of their group and safe. I didn’t need to say anything if I didn’t want to. They were my entertainment, and I was there to listen.

  Of course, when I wanted to say something, they were attentive — back then and now. But I was content to listen to all the guys talk about their careers and their recent exploits.

  “Samantha’s doing some interesting art therapy work with kids in between holding down a job and going to school.” Shaun glanced at me with pride.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing like what you guys do.” I waved my hand dismissively.

  “No, tell us about it,” Taylor said. Rex and Shaun looked at me with adoration. I’d only mentioned my volunteer work briefly the other night.

  I fiddled with my wine glass, realizing that my ex-husband never so much as asked about my volunteer job. Well, he’d asked why I was doing it, when it didn’t result in a check.

  “I’ve been studying art therapy techniques in school, and it’s what I hope to do when I graduate,” I said hesitantly. “I’m volunteering with kids now, but I might eventually focus on adults. Kids don’t always want to talk about their feelings, or can’t. So it’s easier for them to be more comfortable expressing themselves with crayons and markers. Kids who have been through traumatic events often bring suppressed emotions to the surface when they draw.”

  I swallowed, realizing that all three men were hanging on my every word.

  “My project this semester is to study how art therapy affects survivors of domestic violence.” My voice broke at the word violence, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry. It’s kind of a sensitive topic for me.”

  My eyes flitted around the table and I felt an anxious feeling welling in my chest. The rock in my windshield with the ugly red word. I imagined my ex hurling it into my car, knowing I didn’t have the extra money to get it fixed. My stomach churned.

  “Excuse me,” I whispered, and Taylor slid out of the booth, allowing me to head for the bathroom.

  Chapter Eight

  TAYLOR

  My eyes went from Rex to Shaun.

  “Do you two know what’s going on with her?” Something in her voice didn’t sit well with me. Of the three of us, I’d always been the one who could read Samantha’s emotions.

  I hadn’t seen her in almost ten years, but I knew pain when I heard it. I’d heard that in her voice when I’d talked to her on the phone when we were in college. She’d shared the details of her dad’s cancer, and I’d tried to console her long distance.

  It hadn’t been enough, and we’d grown apart. The miles and school and life happened. I’d gotten a job in finance in L.A. and tried to make as much money as fast as possible. But southern California life wasn’t for me; I needed a small town. I needed Texas.

  I needed a blonde who knew me and my soul. Samantha.

  And now I was back, hoping to rekindle
something with that blonde. A friendship, at the very least.

  Shaun cleared his throat. “It’s her ex, I think.”

  Rex’s eyes snapped to Shaun. “What about him?”

  Shaun sighed and took a giant gulp of his wine. “She called me to pick her up tonight. Someone threw a rock into her windshield. They’d scrawled a nasty word on it, too.”

  Rex swore out loud and made a fist, punching the red leather seat.

  “Hold on,” I said. “I feel like you two know some things that I don’t. Tell me what the fuck’s happening here.”

  “She hasn’t told me much other than that she has a restraining order against that dickhead,” said Shaun.

  Rex sighed. “She filled me in. She was married, briefly, to a guy named Zack. He’s a bartender and a musician. Does drugs, drinks a lot. He hit her and gave her a black eye.”

  “Motherfucker,” I whispered. At this point, I had to set the wine glass down, otherwise I’d break it in my hand.

  All three of us sat in silence, looking pissed.

  “After I saw her windshield, and where she lives — it’s a shitty neighborhood — I told her she had to stay with me tonight.” Shaun shook his head. “She didn’t want to, she’s got so much pride. She’d moved out when she was assaulted and her friends from the restaurant helped her get a place. But I don’t like her staying there by herself.”

  “You sure that’s okay after last night?” Rex said.

  I shot him a glare. “What happened last night?”

  Shaun and Rex both had oh shit looks on their faces.

  “Tell me,” I growled.

  Shaun blew out a breath and looked at the ceiling. “The three of us hung out at my place.”

  I looked at him. “And?”

  Rex took a slug of his wine. “Might as well tell him.”

  “Tell me what, assholes?”

  Shaun scratched his neck. “We hooked up.”

  “You hooked up with her?” I scowled.

  “No, we hooked up with her.”

  My eyes went to one of my best friends and then the other. “What the fuck?”