by Daisy Jane
“Your mom smokes pot?” Bastian is struggling to wrap his mind around the situation.
“For her headaches,” Eli says through a clenched jaw.
“Dude, you know she’s smoking pot and getting freaky with your Dad,” Bastian says, tilting his head.
“Dude, shut the fuck up. Bodhi, do you have any pot?” Eli asks, pulling me to him closer. I would consider keeping this headache forever if I got to keep Eli forever, too.
Wait, what? I shake my head gently but pain sears down my nasal cavity, through my jaw. Tears instantly form. “Hold on, baby, we’re getting it figured out, okay?” Eli’s voice is gentle and relieves the tension and anxiety in my chest, for just a second at least.
Baby. An intimate term of endearment. I tuck that away, promising to revisit that later, too.
“I don’t, bro, I haven’t smoked weed in years. But I can get some.” Bodhi’s phone is out again and he’s thumbing at his screen like he’s playing an intense game of Fruit Ninja.
“Who you getting it from, Eli’s dad?” Bastian snorts, his arms folded over his chest. I can see now he’s wearing gray sweats.
Bodhi in dark jeans.
Bastian in gray sweats.
Eli in dress pants.
My legs clench together but then I remember I’m on Eli’s lap and he feels the pull in my lower half and, assuming a wave a nausea, he sits me up. “Do you need to be sick?”
I didn’t but the movement of sitting up jostles me, throwing the lights from the kitchen directly into my eyes. I nod yes and like before, he carries me in and holds my hair. Only this time, Bodhi and Bastian don’t come in.
From the doorway, they announce they’re running to the other side of Oakcreek to get some weed from another artist that Bodhi works with down at the tattoo shop. Eli tells them to hurry and returns his focus to me. He releases his fistful of my hair as I rock back down to my feet.
“Done?” he asks so gently that it makes me cry. He’s so caring and gentle. All of them are. Nodding slowly, my bottom lip trembles as he lifts me to him, carrying me to the couch.
“Will it help?” I ask him, keeping my eyes shut.
“I hope so, baby, I hope.”
“I’m ruining your shirt and your night.” I must look like a wreck. There’s got to be mascara everywhere and my hair is probably tangled and my breath. Lord have mercy, I probably have Greek-food-stomach-acid breath. But everything hurts and while I care, somewhere deep inside, on top of that care is this pain. Pinning it down to a place where I can’t reach.
“You aren’t ruining anything,” he replies, pulling a blanket over us as my body begins its routine: shaking. After vomiting, the anxiety runs through me fast, because I know if I’m getting sick then the pain in my head will last, and my body reacts to that knowledge by freaking the fuck out.
“Eli,” I say, through teeth that I’m trying very hard to not let chatter. “Eli,” I say again, taking a breath, trying to find words amidst this pain. I don’t know if it’s the wrong time but I find with him so close, I can’t stop myself.
“What is it, Sloane?” he lifts me up and our faces are so close. One more inch and our foreheads would be pressed together.
“Will you help me feel better?”
“Of course, anything.”
“Make me feel good, I want you to make me feel good.” I take his hand that’s draped over my thighs and move it between my legs, tightening my legs around it.
“Sloane, you’re in pain, you don’t know what you’re asking,” he says gently, but I feel him underneath me. I feel his cock come to life, just barely. My warmth is getting to him.
“All I’ve wanted since the day I met you guys is to feel good.”
His forehead wrinkles.
“I want all three of you to make me feel good tonight, together.” There, I said it. My eyes squeeze closed, perhaps to protect me from his initial reaction or maybe just from the pain.
“That’s what you want?” he asks, his tone a cocktail of surprise and… something else.
“Tonight,” I feel the need to clarify and, in my pain-induced boldness, “I want you all tonight. Bastian told me you’ve shared.”
“We’ve never shared together.”
Through the haze my eyes find his. My chest tightens but it’s not from the anxiety or the pain. “Just tonight. Please? I need to feel good.” I hate that tears stream down my cheeks when I say it but I can’t help it. My body shakes against his, and his thumb swipes my cheek. His fingers move against the crotch of my jeans slightly, sending a tingle through my slit.
We sit motionless for minutes. Finally, he kisses my temple as the back door opens.
“Okay,” he says, and I want to ask to him to repeat himself but then Bodhi and Bastian reappear. “We got it.”
Eli looks down at me. “Ever smoke weed before?” he says, lifting me off his lap and setting me next to him, his hand resting at the base of my spine. Now that he’s had his hands on me, it seems like he can’t keep them off and I love it.
I shake my head. “This is my first time,” I admit.
Bodhi and Bastian move around the kitchen and they come back with an apple, stuffed with pot.
“Even my mom has a pipe, Bod,” Eli says, taking the apple from him, then the lighter, too.
“I told you I don’t smoke anymore.”
“My hands are itching. I’m getting a major case of incarceritis,” Bastian says, pacing the kitchen behind us.
“Don’t arrest us,” Bodhi puts his palms up in playful surrender before going into task mode. “We’ll smoke out with her, turn the soup off and we’ll eat after this.”
“I can’t eat,” I moan, holding my head in my hands. Eli’s hand moves up my spine again and down once more.
“You gotta eat something, Sloanie,” Bodhi says.
There’s a metallic flick then the smell of something burning. I look up through my hair and tears at Eli. He puts his finger over one side. “The carb,” he turns the apple and puts his thumb over the other hole, “where your mouth goes,” and then, he lifts the fruit to his lips and before he inhales, he says “like this.”
His lungs fill and he releases his covering of the carb and after what feels like forever, he exhales a cloud of gray and proceeds to light the herb again, right away.
“For you,” he says, holding the apple out. “I’ll hold it, you just inhale.”
The apple feels warm on my lips and as soon as I start to inhale, I feel warm inside everywhere, too.
Chapter 16
The first deep inhale filled my lungs with a burning but my temples and eyes pulsed so hard, the fire in my chest almost felt good. A temporary distraction.
Eli pressed a finger to my lips. “Hold it for a moment, then exhale.” I did as he instructed, turning my head to the side, Bodhi and Bastian coming into view as I released the cloud from my lungs. Eli passed the apple to Bodhi and he took it to the sink where I watched him empty the carved bowl at the top and then, dipping his fingers into a bag that looked tiny, pinched more herb. Replacing it, he handed it back to Eli. Reaching out, Eli tucked my hair behind my ear and traced the side of my face down to my jaw with his thumb.
“Again,” he said, making the apple flame again before extending it to me.
Inhaling like last time, my head was already starting to feel detached. It was the strangest sensation. The pain was still there but the part of my brain that cared about the pain? Apparently, it had gone on vacation.
Exhaling, Eli lit it again and I watched his perfect, full lips press to the fruit and then I watched as his chest rose slowly as he inhaled. Handing the apple past me back to Bodhi, Eli then exhaled and I didn’t know if it was the pot already at work or if it was this time being so close with Eli but I leaned in and inhaled his exhale, wanting to feel his air inside me.
Eli’s normally bright eyes had fallen dark, but in my current state it was hard to decipher why. I wanted him to know that even though I wanted to be with all of them
at once, I also wanted to be with him. Just him. If he even wanted me.
Standing from the couch, Eli jumps up with me and puts his arms out. He doesn’t touch me but he looks like he wants to steady me and there’s that tightening in my chest again. What is that? Looking down at my chest I don’t see anything around it. There’s no strap making my chest feel tight. Oh, but my nipples are hard. I laugh a little, my eyes going from one pebbled nipple then to the other. Then I pinch one.
“Oh,” I say, loving the little jolt it sends through my breast.
“Sloanie, how’s your head?” Bodhi’s voice reaches over my shoulder and I turn, taking a few steps back so I can see all three guys at once. Eli’s expression is dark and worried, Bodhi is pensive and cautious, and Bastian? He’s grinning.
“Feeling better?” Bastian asks, arms folded against his PD t-shirt.
“You’re a cop and you went with Bodhi to get pot.” I point at him and shake my finger. “Maybe I should arrest you.”
“Weed is legal in California, Sloanie,” Bodhi says with a grin. “But I like your spirit. Maybe we should cuff him.” He’s joking, I think, but as the warm and fuzzy takes over the knives and pinching in my skull, knowing what’s real is a lot harder. A lot.
“Dude, you probably shouldn’t have gone with Bod. Legal or not I’m sure a weed-pick up isn’t how a cop should be spending his nights off,” Eli worries aloud but he’s the only one to seem worried in the least bit. Bastian just shrugs.
“Bodhi drove, I stayed in the car, and I’m not smoking.” He paces to the fridge and I watch his lower half, loving the way I can faintly see the outline of him straining in his sweats.
“Gray sweatpants are a vibe,” I announce to them, and Bastian’s head falls back onto his frame as he laughs, loud.
“Dude,” Eli says through a clenched jaw, “her head hurts. Keep it down.”
I press both hands to my heart and push hard, trying to see where that tightening comes from.
Eli appears next to me. Man, he’s fast. I bet he’s not fast at everything. “Does your chest hurt?” he asks, his eyes on my hands. I lick my lips and nod. “Is that normal?” he asks and I shake my head no.
“It just started tonight, and it only happens when I’m next to you,” I admit, quietly. He takes my face in his hands and all I want is to stay like this forever, under his gaze, in his arms.
But the thought of staying that way forever is quickly gone because the longer he touches me, the more my lower half pulls and twists, building something heavy at the base of my spine. What’s going on down there? I look down and step apart, looking between my legs. No, nothing there. But something is going on. And also, I think I’m really high.
“What are you looking for Sloanie?” Bodhi asks, but when I look up and see Eli, that darkness in his eyes is back, flooding him entirely.
“I think she wants to ask us for something,” Eli says, and I’m thankful he’s helping me get to the point because with my thoughts being so detached, I’m honestly liable to forget. Despite it being my one and only goal.
I look at Bastian, who I think knows what I want. “Remember what you said in the hall?”
He nods and shoves his fingers through his hair, looking more like a fucking superhero than a guy in a kitchen watching people smoke weed. Wait, does that have a look?
“I told Eli. I told Eli that I want all of you tonight, at the same time.”
The nerves I thought I’d feel when I imagined myself asking for this aren’t there. It’s the pot. It’s gotta be the pot. Or maybe it’s just the exhaustion of my tired, boring, orgasm-less life? The invisible weight of my unspoken fantasy floats up above me and even though they haven’t answered, I feel so much lighter. Better. Finally, Sloane has said aloud what she really wants.
This could be the first time ever.
Bastian rakes a hand up the back of his head and Bodhi leans down, elbows to the kitchen island. Eli stays in the same spot and without even looking, I know he’s staring at me. His eyes burn against my skin and my heart flutters and fuck, there’s that chest tightening again.
“We have shared but never together,” Bodhi says in a tone I didn’t know he had. Low and a bit unsteady.
Loving the way the world seems easier to navigate, I decide to make the decision as easy as possible. Gripping the hem of my blouse I pull it over my head and let it fall to the floor. I wish I wasn’t wearing my plain white bra right, even in my achy brain I know I’m wearing a very unexciting bra. My fingers work the buckle of my belt surprisingly quick considering I thought it would probably be a Rubik’s cube to solve. In less than a minute, my jeans are on the floor with my blouse and I’m standing before the three of them, in my bra and panties.
At least the panties aren’t plai—I look down and find myself wearing my laundry day panties. Beige, high cut with a seamless elastic waist. Fuck. If I’m trying to entice guys to fuck me, this little panty and bra set doesn’t scream “take me”. It screams “where’s my house dress” and for that reason, I reach behind my back and release the two metal clasps keeping the bra on, then shove the nude panties down my hips until I’m stomping my feet to get them off my ankles.
“I am going to go upstairs to my room,” I say in a very speech-giving voice, the room seeming to be moving up and down on a swell. “This house feels like a cruise ship,” I say, reaching out to grab the back of the couch.
“You’re pretty stoned, Sloanie,” Bodhi says with hesitation in his tone. I turn to him and put my hands on my hips. Bodhi has seen me naked before but when his eyes steel over my breasts and bare shaved pussy, he licks his lips. Walking to him I press a finger in his strong, thick chest.
“You know that’s not why I want this,” I say before turning around, to meet the eyes of Bastian and Eli. Bastian is letting his eyes move up and down my body, repeatedly and I can see the fabric of his sweats shift at the crotch. I point to him and he watches my breast move as my arm does, too.
“You know, too.”
He nods. “I do.”
I look at Eli and he is the only one whose eyes are trained on mine. He doesn’t allow himself to discover my curves and edges, and I tilt my head to the side, wondering why. Why Eli, why don’t you want me?
“I want this. I want all three of you. I want to feel all of your skin against my skin, I want you all inside me, stretching me, filling me, giving me everything. I want hands all over me. I want to be filled and teased and tempted and brought to orgasm over and over. I want to make you all lose control. I want to lose control. I want us, tonight, no complications, no strings.”
Sobriety is far off yet there’s a wave of it rolling through me. I chew my bottom lip, letting my chin drop to my chest. I’m naked. I only remember when I see my nude body then I look back up at each of them, slowly.
“I’m going upstairs,” I announce and then the shakes rear their head again and my shoulders tremble a little. My core buzzes a moment before it too vibrates and I lean against the couch for a moment before making the seemingly long journey to the second level of the house.
“It’s just the residual anxiety,” I say to Eli when I look up and see the worry in his eyes. He’ll be a good dad one day with his level of care and attentiveness…
“I need weight, I need my weighted blanket,” I say, “just for a few minutes and then I’ll be okay.”
Eli shakes his head and works vertically down his shirt until it’s open, tugging it up until it’s no longer tucked into his slacks. “You’re not walking upstairs,” he says, making his way to me. He’s only feet away but inside this moment, time stands still and the heat pooling in my spine flares, running up my core and blooming in my breasts, my nipples growing hard again. He bends, and when he stands, I’m in his arms. Smooth, effortless, no sign of strain on his face.
Brett never picked me up. I didn’t know being picked up was something I wanted until now. Or maybe it’s just Eli’s arms that feel so right?
“I’m taking her up,
I’ll meet you guys in the hall,” he says, and before I can ask if that means they won’t do it, before I go full breakdown at the news of my fantasy getting flushed down the toilet, he looks down to me, eyes only on my eyes. Only. My pussy warms. “You have us, tonight, you will have what you want.”
I don’t know how he does that—answers for them without them having had a private conversation yet. Then again, I’d never been around men like the corner house guys. They were so close, they took care of an animal together, they cleaned and cooked for one another, Bodhi had tattooed the other two and hell, they were friends with each other’s families. They have the most intimate heterosexual relationship I’ve ever seen, and I’m close with my girlfriends. Very close. The guys, though, it’s still so different.
When we’re at the top of the stairs, Eli stops, but doesn’t put me down.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, and the words are so gentle that they seem to wrap around me from the inside out, soothing me, filling me with… hope. Hope that real happiness can still exist within my life of migraines. Even though Brett leaving had me convinced otherwise for a very long time.
“Strange. I can feel the pain but it doesn’t hurt.” I let my head fall lazily back against his bicep, which feels more like a rock than a human appendage. “Does that make sense?”
He nods. I see now that his eyes are red and getting hazy. “Are you stoned?” I whisper, as if I’m worried Bastian will hear us and arrest us. Man, pot makes you think strange things.
This time, he shakes his head. “I’m relaxed,” he clarifies. “It’s different for me. I’m a lot bigger than you. It would take a lot of pot to mess me up.”
He walks to my bedroom door and nudges the door open with his foot. Stepping in he looks around then moves to the bed, where he lowers me down. When he stands back up, he shoves both hands through his hair before pulling on his neck.
“I want to look at you Sloane. But I didn’t want the first time I saw you naked to be a group experience.” He kneels next to the bed and reaches out weaving his fingers through mine. “Can I look at you, Sloane? Can I touch you?”
