Twin Tempt_An MFM Menage Military Romance

by Jess Bentley

  My fingers twitch. All this, right next to me? Right here? It’s too good to be true.

  I don’t know what time it is, but it’s got to be early. I usually wake up before seven, definitely. Even without an alarm. I love the early mornings.

  I wish I could go back to sleep, but I can’t. Even though this is so cozy, so comfortable, I’m itching for… Something.

  Tentatively, I move the fingers on my right hand, pinned so far underneath Cass. To my surprise, I can feel the bristly, soft patch of pubic hair at his groin. It’s nice, like beard stubble. Lush and thick, soft as fox fur. Stroking it with my fingertips, I listen for any change in his breathing.

  He doesn’t do anything, but I sense his body changing. As I softly run my fingers back and forth through his furry thatch, I feel his hips shift just slightly. Just enough, and there is a void created underneath him, one where I can tunnel through to find his cock.

  Biting my lip, I take the chance to touch it. It’s velvety smooth, but firm underneath. My fingers wander blindly along the length, curious to test the width, firmness, girth. I circle my middle finger and thumb and squeeze lightly, delighted to hear his breath hitch in his throat.

  I almost know what to do… I’ve seen this a thousand times. The angle is a bit uncomfortable, but if I twist I can get my hand underneath him so that I can run the tip of his cock against the palm of my hand.

  He shudders, his eyes still closed. Every time he moves, I take it as encouragement. I can hold him a little firmer, stroke him farther. After a little while, gaining confidence, I dare to run my fingers up and down his complete length, twisting slightly at the end the way I have seen in movies.

  A moan reverberates in his chest. He shifts toward me and nuzzles his face against my shoulder. I feel his hands slide against the bottom of my belly and realize he’s awake now. How long he has been awake, I don’t know.

  On my other side, I feel Will take my hand in his and draw it to his already-hard cock. Guiding me, he closes my fingers over his shaft and moves my arm from base to tip. Then, with a sigh, he rolls onto his side, mirror image with Cass on my right.

  Perfectly elegant, easier than I ever would’ve thought, I am giving simultaneous hand jobs to two perfect, handsome, goddamn American heroes.

  It’s a dream come true.

  Rolling my wrists, it’s easy to get them both on the same rhythm. I keep the motion long and smooth, focusing on the sensitive tips. Cass cups my breast against his palm, plucking my nipple gently. That only makes me hotter and I find myself grinding my hips, closing my eyes to get the full image in my mind’s eye.

  This is better than anything I could’ve imagined on my own. They move with me, thrusting gently against my hands, so big I can barely close my fingers around them. Will reaches down and cups my pussy in his strong, talented fingers, slipping a finger into the wet channel, making me moan out loud.

  “Yeah,” he groans as he thrusts harder.

  “Yeah,” Cass echoes, thrusting harder as well.

  Pushing against my heels, I lift my hips to get more pressure on my clit as I pump both their meaty cocks in my hands. They curl around me, dripping streams of pre-cum onto my belly. The liquid slips between my fingers, lubing them up for the final thrusts before they both come, spraying identical loads of cum across my belly, roaring identical calls of lust into my ears.

  Again I am pinned beneath them when they lunge, clenching as the final spurts erupt from the shining heads, then fall across me breathlessly.

  It’s an amazing amount of weight, but I don’t mind. I kind of love it. I could be buried like this.

  So much to think about, so many sensations jumble in my mind all at once. I try to sort them out, but then give up completely and let sleep wash over me like a warm wave.

  Chapter 12

  Will

  I don’t think I have slept in this long since I was about thirteen years old. It has to be… what… nine a.m.? That is insane.

  But gradually, the dream slips away and I let reality creep in around the edges of the fog in my mind. Just a little bit at a time. Baby steps.

  When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is wave after wave of tangled blonde hair. The strands tumble over each other like they are racing to a goal. Right after that, I smell her. Us. All of us…

  Yeah. That was not a dream.

  Carefully untangling my arms and legs from everybody else’s, I roll out of bed, landing silently on the floor and heading for the kitchen. Some good, strong coffee is what I need now. Preferably a gallon or so.

  With the coffee pot bubbling, I look around for something to do. Something to clean. Something to organize. But our small townhouse is already clean and organized. That’s just how we are.

  That is how we have always been. Raised in Fort Bragg, then immediately to college, then right back into the service. We have the habits and training of uncluttered thoughts. Uncluttered lives. Mission-focused brains.

  Well, maybe Cass has a rebellious streak. A little bit, here and there. After all, he did take me on an unexpected detour last night, didn’t he?

  Speaking of Cass, here he comes. Wearing cotton boxer briefs and a smug expression, he walks up and jerks his chin toward the coffee pot.

  “I will take a cup when it’s ready,” he announces as he yawns and flexes against the countertop.

  Black and strong, the coffee is almost too hot to drink, but I need it. We stand there in silence for a few minutes, reenergizing.

  “Well?” I finally say.

  He takes another swig, then holds his mug out for a refill.

  “Well, what?”

  “Are we going to talk about this?”

  He takes back his mug and squints at me with a sideways smile. “Which part did you want to talk about?”

  Fair question.

  “Okay. Let’s start with what are we going to do with her? Keep her here?”

  He shrugs, reaching down to scratch inside his shorts with one hand.

  “If she will let us, why not?”

  I clench my teeth.

  “Be serious, Cass. What are we going to do with her?”

  “I am being serious,” he scoffs. “We stepped into a situation, offered a solution… And this is it. Why would we stop now without a better plan?”

  “Yeah, okay. That’s a good point.”

  He sniffs and looks around, clearly less bothered by this than I am.

  “Is that really what’s on your mind? How quick you can get her back out the door?” he asks carefully.

  I shrug and shake my head. “Basically, yes. That and the part where I don’t want to be accused of abducting the colonel’s daughter. That is the basic outline of my thought process right now.”

  “I’m sure she will stick up for us,” he grins.

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “Are you sure you’re not freaked out by the threesome?”

  I catch his eye, trying to suss out the breadth of this question. Freaked out? No. This was inevitable. Not exactly on my to-do list for yesterday, but definitely coming.

  “No, she’s into it. That’s all that matters.”

  “Yeah… She’s amazing,” Cass nods, his voice distant and flushed with wonder. “Pretty sure she’s a virgin.”

  “Pretty sure? How would you know that?”

  “Well, I had her pussy half a centimeter from my eyeballs, and it all looked factory issue to me. Practically still has the cellophane on it. But feel free to take an inspection, bro. I think she likes you.”

  Shaking my head, I just turn around and dump the rest my coffee in the sink. Washing the mug, I can buy a few seconds to clear my head.

  I don’t know what it is that’s blocking me up. It feels like a fog, but not exactly. A distraction. Some kind of noise in my head that wasn’t there before. Little flashes of her smile, her skin, memories of her scent. It’s coming, I can tell. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

  “So I guess it’s settled? We will keep track of her
until she tells us she wants to do something different?”

  I hear him tap out a rhythm on the counter behind me. Something nonchalant.

  “Sounds good to me,” he answers breezily. “Our objective is to keep her away from that jackass with the teeth. Seems simple enough. Maybe we can just go with the flow? I know that’s kind of not your style.”

  Bristling, I turn back around. He is grinning smugly, the kind of expression that used to get us into fistfights.

  “Maybe you don’t know what my style is,” I counter.

  “Yeah, dude, I know everything about you. I’m in your head. When you bust a nut, I can feel it from a mile away.”

  “That’s just the shockwaves from the explosion.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Ha! Good one. What I’m saying is… This feels good. Let it feel good, don’t overthink it. Reality will set back in soon enough.”

  Raising an arm, he dips his head to smell himself and pulls a face, then backs off and heads out of the room. Seconds later, I hear the shower snap on.

  Chapter 13

  Libby

  Hunger wakes me back up after the air fills with the scent of food. Is that bacon? It must be. Coffee?

  The bed is musty and messed up, with the sheet pulled back from the corner of the mattress and blankets on the floor. As I slide to the end, I realize I am in sort of a predicament. No clothes. No underwear. Not even a pair of shoes.

  Okay. Time to get the situation under control.

  My handbag is sitting on the corner of the dresser, and with a smile I realize one of my rescuers must have left it here for me. That is so thoughtful.

  Digging around, I’m happy to find that my cell phone is still in it. Ty didn’t make off with that too, and I still have 40 percent charge.

  And Mona did not even text. I can’t believe it.

  I smash the avatar of her face with my thumb and wait for the call to connect. After a stupidly long time, it goes to voicemail. Oh no. No way. I try to reconnect the call and wait, determined to keep calling until she picks up.

  Finally, I hear her on the other end, sleepy and annoyed.

  “What time is it?”

  “I don’t care what time it is! Where were you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  I give her a couple seconds to wake up or sit up or whatever it is that she needs to do. Besides, I didn’t actually plan out what I was going to say. Slowly, I start again.

  “You said you were coming back for me,” I remind her bitterly.

  “Oh, yeah, right,” she chuckles, her voice throaty and satisfied.

  I am 100 percent certain she is not wearing any clothes right now. Carson is probably right there, listening in to every word.

  “Mona! You said you were coming back for me!”

  “I heard you the first time, Jesus!” she snaps back, sounding slightly more awake. “I got busy, okay? Maybe had a little bit too much to drink. Why are you yelling at me first thing in the morning?”

  “Because. You. Said. You. Were. Coming. Back.”

  “Yeah, well, obviously it didn’t work out that way,” she snaps. “But you’re talking to me now… so, how did it go? How much money did you make?”

  Oh, the money. I didn’t even think about that till now.

  “Nothing,” I hiss.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  I stand there and shake my head for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the sick feeling that suddenly clenches my stomach.

  “I made a couple hundred? Like you thought? And then Ty went through my purse and found my ID.”

  “Wait, what?” she yelps, suddenly wide-awake. “Slow down. What the fuck did he do? Start at the beginning!”

  “I don’t even fucking know! One minute I was doing my thing, or whatever that lingerie show is supposed to be. The next thing I know, Ty is waving my ID around, talking about how he’s going to call the cops on me unless I do some kind of special work for him.”

  “Jesus!” she hisses.

  “Do you know anything about this? What kind of work is he talking about, Mona?”

  I hear her mutter under her breath, making some uncomfortable noises.

  “Mona? Answer me. What do you know about this?”

  “Well, I am really surprised that he went through your purse!”

  I stop, my eyes narrowed.

  “Hold on. Are you serious? Is that the part that is really surprising for you?”

  I can practically hear her shrugging.

  “That is pretty terrible, Libby. I am so sorry he did that!”

  “He slapped me, Mona. Across the face.”

  I can barely get the words out. Just thinking about it clenches at my chest, the humiliation, the utter shock of it all.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Stay right there! I’m coming over!”

  “No! You can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I am not home. I’m not home!”

  “Wait, what are you talking about? Where are you?”

  Now I am so pissed off, I barely want to tell her anything. From the tone in her voice, she is not completely surprised about any of this. What kind of lowlife has she been working for all this time?

  “Listen…” I start again, trying to stay calm. “Whatever kind of shit you are involved with at Sweeney’s, you have to get out. Do you understand me?”

  She sighs for a long time.

  “Libby, you don’t understand. I have to work. Everybody has to work. And things get complicated. Nothing is ever ideal, you know?”

  “You can’t stay there! He is crazy!”

  “Naw, girl. You’d have to walk a mile in my stilettos to really understand.”

  The sadness in her voice is clear. Now that I’m thinking about it, I guess I always knew that there were things she wasn’t telling me. Big chunks of details that she was leaving out. Like the lingerie shows. I didn’t even know what she was doing even though we have been friends for years. I know her period cycle, her favorite flavor of potato chips, and the secret product she uses to make her hair so fluffy and full.

  But I didn’t really know any of this. I knew she had to work to help support her family from a young age. I knew it was hard. There must be so much about her life I don’t even understand.

  “You could have talked to me, you know,” I tell her softly.

  “Meh. You wouldn’t understand.”

  I’m starting to understand now, I think but don’t say.

  “Anyway, if you’re not home… Where are you?” she starts again. “Are you on the base? I can be there in ten, fifteen minutes, tops.”

  I think about explaining it to her, but not just yet. One major upheaval at a time is probably the best course of action.

  “He has my ID,” I tell her again. “I can’t go home yet because it has my address on it, and I would be alone until my dad gets back. I am not really sure how serious he was about trying to get me arrested, or if that was all just a threat to get me to do what he wants.”

  “He is all talk, I promise,” she scoffs, and again I get the impression this is no big surprise to her. “He would definitely not call the cops on you. He doesn’t need that kind of attention. You could have called his bluff.”

  “Well, maybe if I had had you there to guide me through this mess, I would have known it was a bluff and called it? If you were there? Because you said you were coming back?”

  Pause.

  “Okay… I see what you’re saying,” she admits finally, and at least I am beginning to hear a note of guilt in her voice. “I will go get your ID. Anything else you want me to do? I will bring Carson in case he gets fresh.”

  “This is serious, Mona. All of this is serious.”

  “I know. You’re right.”

  “You have to quit that job.”

  Silence hangs between us. I am reminded of something my dad has said a few times. Everybody makes choices.

  When he says it, it always sounds sad. I doesn’t soun
d like some people pick the wrong ice cream flavor. It sounds like what he means is: everybody makes compromises they wish they didn’t have to make.

  “So… Carson? Is he still around?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Why, yes he is!” she answers, brightening considerably. “And around… And around… And around…”

  “Yeah, okay!” I laugh. “I don’t need details. Just as long as you are okay.”

  “I am totally okay. I am more than okay. But I am going to go get your ID. I’ll text you when I’ve got it.”

  “Okay, sounds good,” I answer. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  Once the call is disconnected, I start to get a sense of the mess I have found myself in. Why didn’t I just go to Krazy Mart, like I had planned?

  But turning around, I see the rumpled bed again and remember there were definitely a couple of positive things that came out of that.

  A couple of huge, positive things.

  And I still don’t have any clothes.

  I should go say hello.

  Chapter 14

  Libby

  Dragging the top sheet off the bed, I wrap it around my body just under my arms and set out to find where that delicious smell is coming from.

  I don’t know how I know, but I am sure that is Will behind the counter, standing over the stove with his head bent in concentration. Shirtless and gleaming, I relish the sight of his thickly muscled back. The perfect shapes of his strong body belong in one of my biology textbooks. He looks like a diagram. I can point out each of the muscles from the base of his skull to the bottom of his spine. It’s mesmerizing.

  And it’s kind of weird, because I’ve been surrounded by soldiers for my whole life. I never really took the time to look at them. Now I have to wonder if they all look like this.

  Maybe just these two.