by Laura Day
It had gotten dark while she washed, and when she walked out into the hallway, she could see the TV was on, though most of the lights in the living room were out.
“We’re putting a movie on,” Jack called out, “and the brownies are ready. Care to join us?”
“Sure,” she said. Jack was leaning against one arm of the sectional couch, and Missy was stretched out, with her head in his lap. She took the other arm, but before the movie was all the way through the opening credits, the weight of the past few days took over, and she tumbled into sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Somewhere close by, her phone was ringing. She dragged herself up out of sleep like a woman clawing her way to the surface of deep, dark water. She glanced around for a second, confused by her surroundings, and the soft, gentle noises of a couple making out, and trying to stay quiet. She chuckled to herself, and pushed herself unevenly up off the couch, stumbling towards her purse in the kitchen to answer the call.
She recognized Mason’s number as she unlocked the phone to accept the call. “Hi,” she said. “Everything okay?”
“So far so good,” he said. “Look, I— I need to ask you something. I’m at an old friend’s place, trying to get some information about what Declan’s up to, trying to get her on our side, and she… wants me. Says she won’t say anything until I…" He paused to look for the right words. Finally, he blurted. "Well she won't talk until I put out. And I told her I had to check with you.”
She sat up a little straighter. “Are you okay with this?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m not gonna lie, Caro, she’s gorgeous, and we’ve been friends for a longass time. I would have hooked up with her when I came back from deployment if I hadn’t been so fucked in the head. But I—we’re together, and I meant—”
“It’s okay,” she said. “As long as this is something you want, I’m fine. Though, uh—be safe, yeah?”
“You mean use a rubber?”
“Yep.”
“Duh.”
“Okay. We’ll trade stories later.”
“You are something else.”
You’re not half bad yourself. She thought about saying that she loved him, but… no. The first time she said those words with actual air behind them, she wanted him to be in the same room, so she could watch his eyes, see his reaction, and believe in his response.
“See you soon,” she said, with the same rhythm and intensity.
“That’s the plan.” There was another moment of silence, and then he disconnected the call.
She took a moment to collect herself, then put her phone back in her purse and went back into the living room.
Jack and Missy had disentangled themselves, at least a little, and they were both watching her carefully as she settled back down on the couch. “Everything okay?” Missy asked, finally.
“So far so good,” she said. And took a deep breath. “The thing that happened in the shower?”
She saw Missy’s face become just a little bit more deliberately neutral. “Yes?”
“I think I’d like some more of that.”
Even in the dim light, she could feel the smiles spread across Jack’s and Missy’s faces. Missy turned and kissed her husband, full on the mouth for a moment, and then turned, crawling like a cat over the couch cushions. Caroline felt her body twist and turn as the other woman approached, her eyes wide and eager.
When Missy was kneeling over her, and Caroline was feeling her heart rabbit in her chest again, Missy smiled. “Just asking so I know what I’m getting into here—do you have any idea how far you’re willing to have this go?”
“No,” Caroline said honestly. “I have no idea.”
Missy glanced back over her shoulder at her husband. “Is it okay for Jack to play, too? Did Mason okay that?”
“It’s okay,” she said.
“I’m good over here for now,” Jack said. Caroline could see his hand wandering down, tracing over his erection through his shorts. “You ladies enjoy yourselves.”
Missy nodded. “Okay, then. If I make you feel uncomfortable at all, if you need me to stop, or slow down, or go no further, please say. Okay?
“Yes.” It felt like high school, this thing where you had no idea what you wanted, where you didn’t know how to move from conversation to kissing.
She wanted to be kissing. She reached out and traced her fingernails down the back of Missy’s neck, watching the other woman arch gently under her touch. She leaned forward then, and touched her lips delicately to the spot under Missy’s ear where her pulse throbbed.
Missy sighed, and Caroline, emboldened, darted her tongue against Missy’s skin, tasting perfume and arousal. Her hands started on Missy’s waist, moving slowly up her sides, dragging the shirt with her as her hands moved over the other woman’s breasts.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Missy's nipples were still swollen, hard. She could feel wetness where Jack had licked and sucked at them through Missy’s shirt. It gave her courage to dart forward, taking Missy’s nipple in her mouth and teasing with her teeth, knowing from experience that she could use more pressure with the t-shirt to buffer her.
“Holy mother of god,” Missy whispered, her hips settling down into Caroline’s lap. “I don’t believe you that you’ve never done this before.”
“Never once,” she said. “You are my first. Are you okay with that?”
“Mmmhmm,” Missy whimpered, her hands stroking over Caroline’s face. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
In the shower, Missy had been tentative, gentle with her mouth and tongue; now, she plundered Caroline’s open mouth, and Caroline was no more gentle than Missy was. S
he stole Mason’s favorite trick, leaving her hands on Missy’s sides and flicking her thumbs over Missy’s erect nipples in a rhythm that matched Missy’s tongue in her mouth. Missy’s hands were braced on the arm of the couch, and in the tension and releasing of her forearms, Caroline could feel them gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing.
She could hear Jack’s delicate groans as he teased himself. As Missy tore her mouth away from Caroline’s and moved to teasing at her earlobe, Caroline caught Jack’s eyes and watched as his hand stroked over his erection. He’d freed himself from his boxers, and she watched him stroke his cock—not particularly long, but thick—as his eyes were glued on the two of them. “Come over,” she said to him.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “Don’t worry about me. You two enjoy yourselves. I’ll be over in a bit.”
She turned back to Missy, who was hovering over her with her eyes half-closed. “I want to take your shirt off,” she said, kissing the bottom of Missy’s throat. “And I want you to tell me what you want. You’re the one who’s been dreaming of this.”
Missy shook her head fiercely. “This isn’t about my fantasy.”
“Yes, it is,” Caroline said simply. “It really is.”
Missy’s eyes opened and locked on Caroline’s. “I dream about you going down on me while my husband fucks you. But that’s—a lot. For a first time. And I don’t want to pressure you. This—is amazing. This is plenty.”
Caroline reached down, letting her fingers thread just under the waistband of the fitted boxers that Missy had put on. “I want to taste you. I was hoping that you would let me.”
The sound that Missy made was somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “Oh, please. Pretty please.”
Their clothes pooled by the corner of the couch. Missy draped herself over the couch, lying down, and Caroline knelt on the floor between Missy’s spread knees. She traced her fingers up the inside of Missy’s thighs, examining her pussy with an almost scientific reverence. Her slit was almost bare, except for two narrow bands of blonde curls that were trimmed close.
Missy's scent was mild and delicate—an overwhelming and essentially female smell that made Caroline’s stomach tighten with desire. She never understood why Mason would always bend over her and take a moment to inhale her; sudde
nly, she did.
She gently opened Missy’s inner lips with her fingers, enjoying the vision of her clit, her opening, the wet tissue that led down to her ass. She stroked the woman’s body with one finger, watching as Missy sighed, the muscles of her inner thighs tensing as her hips moved along with the caress. And then she leaned forward, touching just the tip of her tongue to the swollen nub of Missy’s clit.
The response was electric, Missy’s hips arching up into her mouth, and Caroline let herself be guided, her tongue pressing more firmly over Missy’s body as she brought her fingers up to stroke over Missy’s opening.
“Oh, Jack,” Missy murmured. “Yes, please, Jack, oh wow.”
Caroline felt Jack behind her. “You sure?” he whispered in her ear. She felt his cock, hard and hot, pressed against the back of her thigh.
She reached back and stroked him with her hand, by way of saying yes.
He groaned and leaned into her for a moment, his breath heavy on her shoulders. Pinned between them, she felt completely indispensable, and she had to smile.
After a moment, he drew himself back, and he moved so that she could feel him sliding the condom on. He nudged her knees wider, and she watched Missy’s eyes lock over her shoulder as the tip of him pressed up into her. She was wet, so wet, but he was thicker that Mason, and he had to move slowly to fully seat himself inside of her.
Each movement of his cock made her groan, made her rhythm against Missy’s wet heat pause, and made Missy arch, which made her shift against Jack, sending him just a little deeper. The three of them rocked together like the ocean, and she lost track of who was touching her where, just felt the gorgeous sensation of him fucking her as she licked Missy into spasm after spasm of pleasure.
She came hard, suddenly, gasping into Missy’s thigh as she lost the ability to focus, to hold herself up, and Missy’s hands were in her hair, soothing her, as Jack drove her higher and higher, bringing out more and more waves of ecstasy. She felt himself holding back, though, and when she was done, he withdrew from her, and she could see him finding a clean condom.
Missy pulled Caroline up onto the couch, and settled her against the back of the couch, then positioned herself with her back against Caroline’s chest. Jack slid into Missy easily and quickly, but his mouth darted over Missy’s shoulder to capture Caroline’s, his tongue filling her mouth as his cock filled his wife. Missy’s ass rubbed a gentle pressure into Caroline’s clit as Jack shifted her body with his fast and viciously hard thrusts.
Caroline felt that pleasure swirling through her again as Jack started to groan. She saw Missy’s hands clench his ass, her nails digging hard into his skin, spurring him to thrust into her fast and hard, so hard that Caroline was sure it had to hurt, but Missy was screaming with pleasure, her fingers sliding back to find Caroline’s clit, dragging her over the edge with her as Jack started to cry out as well, all three of them rocking together, coming together, falling back to earth together.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mason pulled up to the Angels’ garage on his bike. The usual suspects were all around, guys working on their own bikes, the mechanics working on bikes or customers, and Munch, of course, behind the desk. As soon as Mason had his kickstand down, Munch was on his way over.
It made him want to giggle, thinking of the guy as “Teddy.” He was wirey, with a scraggly beard and a nervous twitch that made you think he dallied with meth or something, but he was clean. And Caro trusted him.
Munch held up his hand, and Mason tapped his knuckles to his friend’s; Munch shook his hand, laughing, his grin wide and easy, but as he pulled Mason into a hug, Munch’s voice was intense. “What the hell did you do to Declan? Boy’s lost his mind, freaking out about you, tearing apart your office, shouting at people…”
Mason returned the laugh and gave Munch a hearty slap on the back. “Is he here now?”
Munch pulled back, shaking his head. “Mase, don’t you dare ever talk about my girl like that again.”
He forced his smile to stay easy, joking. The other guys were watching them; he could tell by the way no one was looking at them at all. “Munch, don’t you lie to these assholes, you’ve never had a girl.”
Munch laughed again, dropping Mason’s hand, and walking back into the front office, to the desk that was covered in paperwork. Mason walked past him, into his private office.
It had clearly been tossed. Everything was put neat, and put back nearly where he’d left it, but he was a military man to his bones, in some ways, and his office was always kept pin straight, papers squared to the calendar, which was squared to the edge of the desk, the phone at a precise angle. Someone else might have walked in and thought everything was in order. He wasn’t “anyone else” though.
Had Declan been here before or after threatening Caroline? No way to tell from this. Whatever he was looking for, he wouldn’t find here. Mason had taken everything to Caroline’s house, which meant that it had all been under Declan’s nose, and he assumed that Caro had left it there when she took off.
Besides, he had to play the role of a dutiful dude who wanted a piece of the action and knew that it was out there. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where Caro was, and he hadn’t been lying when he said he’d need all of his concentration to take care of Declan.
As Mason sorted through the desk, looking for anything out of place or anything that was missing, Munch came into the office and quietly closed the door behind him. He sat down across from Mason and crossed his hands over his chest. “Caro okay?”
Mason nodded. “She’s safe. But there’s a problem.”
“There always is,” Munch said, with the wild grin that made him famous. “What’s up?”
“Declan’s gone to the dark side. We get to take him down. Once we do, I think the others will fall in line.”
Munch whistled through his teeth, staring off at the old framed poster that Mason kept to the side of the desk. It was an old poster of John William Waterhouse’s Ophelia, from a show at the Smithsonian. He’d seen it just before he deployed the first time. He’d seen the poster, loved it, bought it, and had it sent back to his half-sister. She’d had it framed for him. He kept it for both reasons. “That’s a lot of ‘once’ and ‘I think,’ Mase. You sure this is worth it?”
He nodded. “He’s running everything, Munch, everything we said we were against. Guns. Drugs.” A long swallow; he tensed before he said the next word, knowing that there was an even chance Munch would bolt for the door to try and take out Declan with a tire iron. “Girls.” He watched Munch grip the arms of his chair hard enough that it creaked, but he didn’t make for the door. “Young ones, I think, but I don’t know yet.” Another long, slow breath. “Trish would know.”
The sound Munch made would be qualified by most people as a laugh. “Trish ain’t gonna talk to either one of us.”
“She’ll talk to me.”
“Are you an idiot? You turned her down, and she’s been Declan’s second in everything but actual presence ever since. She is not going to say word one to you, not if it hangs Declan out on the line.”
Mason nodded again. “She’ll talk to me. If it’s true, if Declan’s got young girls somewhere, you know they’re here against their will. Trish is a lot of things, but she’s sure as hell not a child molester. I help her figure out how to get a bunch of little girls out of a nightmare, she’ll help us.”
“And then what?”
“Then I deal with Declan.”
“Got a plan as to how exactly that’s going to happen? He’s going to know that you’re coming for him. He’ll be ready.”
“Trish first. I’ll figure out the rest as I go.”
Munch stared at him for a long, long moment, and then nodded his agreement. “What do you need from me?”
“Do what you do. Talk to people. Keep your ears open. Get a sense of what side people are going to fall on.” He pushed a piece of paper across the table. “These are the guys who I’m fairly sure are with h
im. Let it be known, once I get in touch, that they can fall in line, or they can get out. But if they stay and they keep this shit going, then it’s over.”
“You taking over, then?”
Mason shook his head. “I’m no general. I just need to deal with this, and then the club can choose who takes over.”
That wild grin was back in place as Munch stood up, folding the paper and slipping it into the breast pocket of his grease monkey shirt. “You keep telling yourself that, Mase. And tell Caro I said hi next time you see her.”
Mason suspected that was the closest he was going to get to hearing Munch say “good luck.”
