Double Mountain Trouble: A MFM Menage Romance

by Katerina Cole

  I wanted to think it had nothing to do with transportation and everything to do with how he felt tangled up with me in my bed.

  The day after a storm passed through was always the most gorgeous. The beach was littered with whole conch shells, and other treasures washed ashore from the turbulent tides.

  I held up a piece of beach blue against the sun. The hue was almost the same color as the sky. “Hey, check this one out.” He probably wouldn’t know how rare it was to find a piece this big, smooth, and blue.

  Jake jogged over to where my feet were planted in the wet sand. “That one’s cool. But look at this.” He grinned before revealing a long strand of conch eggs encased in a spiral coating.

  “Oh yeah, that’s a mermaid’s necklace.” I took the spiral and held it against my neck. “We always called them that when I was little. Really, it’s full of baby conchs.”

  “Hmm, I thought I made a big discovery.”

  I giggled at the disappointed look on his face. It was fun exploring the beach with him. It was the first time I remembered seeing it from an outsider’s perspective. Growing up on Brees Island, it seemed like the same old stuff every day. But Jake had a way of turning that around on me.

  We were lucky. Hurricane Campbell had made a drastic shift to the east before reaching the island’s latitude. The inland areas around the cove saw the most water, but other than a few broken windows, there weren’t any reports of major damage. Only washed out roads. Given another day or two, the water would recede and life would return to normal. The tourists would be back and the store would reopen.

  Jake’s hand rested against my waist as I leaned into his chest. For now, I wanted the water to stay in my yard, keep me stranded, and keep me in his arms. Nothing could convince me to leave this place of contentment.

  “You know my neighbor, Alice, should see all these.” He stooped to pick up an olive shell.

  “Isn’t she the crazy one?” I couldn’t believe there were sand dollars dotting the beach. You could only find them on low tide days near the sandbar, and even that was a rarity.

  “Crazy as hell, but she loves collecting shells. Her yard is full of them—rows and rows.” He scooped up one of the sand dollars. “I think I’ll save a few of these for her.” He walked over to the bucket we had brought and placed the sea discoveries inside.

  “Better get them now because between the beach combers and the tide, they will all be gone tomorrow. It will be like none of this ever happened.”

  The words hung in the air and my stomach twisted. I meant the shells and the beach treasures, but I realized that maybe I had accidentally created a double meaning in the words. How do you pull words back in that you don’t want to have spoken?

  As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he reached for my chin and held it firmly between his thumb and forefinger. The look in his eyes stole my breath. “I’m going to throw this out there. Ok?”

  I nodded, locked on his gaze, dying to know what he was about to say.

  “This did happen.” His voice was deep and low. “And it is happening.” He pressed his lips against my mouth. I dropped whatever sandy treasure was in my hand and wrapped her arms around his neck. I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. His lips tasted salty. I nipped at his neck, lowering my heels to the ground.

  He grasped my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead. “This has been my all-time favorite Sunday.”

  I smiled. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who loved Sundays on the island. My hand slipped into his, and I kicked a wave that washed toward me. There were other words I wanted to say. I wanted to talk about what was happening and what it meant. Were we a couple? Were we dating now? But we had never been on an actual date. Did that mean something? I tried to quiet the questions storming my mind. I knew they would shatter the moment, and this Sunday was perfectly shatterproof.

  He squeezed my hand. “What are you thinking over there?”

  I squinted in the sun. “I think I know what song I want to write next. The whole song just hit me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Want to hear it?” I couldn’t wait to get to the porch and play out the words.

  “Lead the way.” His smile melted all the stress and anxiety away. It warmed me like the sun.

  I tugged on his hand, crossing the beach and heading for the dunes. I was ready for him to hear the song that hit my heart like a crashing wave.

  Twenty-Seven

  Ben

  I knew everything happened for a reason. I ran my fingers through my hair, rinsing the shampoo down the shower drain. I wanted to be there when she woke up tomorrow, but after three nights together, I thought it best to spend a night in the Sand Dollar alone.

  The water felt good, but my decision didn’t. I knew I easily had a chance to tell Chelsea my name, my identity, but I let it slip by.

  I closed my eyes, remembering how she whispered my name in my ear last night. But it wasn’t my name. It was someone else’s. It hit me in the chest, and for a minute, I couldn’t breathe, thinking of how I had betrayed her.

  I wondered if I could be that someone else. Could I just change my name to Jake Grady and pretend Ben Baldwin didn’t exist? Damn it. I had screwed up.

  It was one thing to flirt with her, but during that storm, I had made her mine with my mouth, my hands, and my words. Crazy as it sounded, I wasn’t about to give her back until I absolutely had to.

  The longer I waited to tell her, the worse it would be when it came out. I couldn’t help thinking I didn’t have to reveal my name. After the call to Rick this morning, I knew she would get a chance with her music. As passionate and talented as she was, she would snatch it up and chase the opportunity all the way to Austin. Nashville was probably her first choice, but I had some good buddies from my football days that wound up in Austin—easy strings to pull. She could make a name for herself with those lyrics.

  I turned the knob on the shower and reached for a towel. Hell, she didn’t even go to the movies; she had never seen one of Rebecca’s films and never mentioned any of mine. It wouldn’t mean anything to her at all. I tightened the towel around my waist and walked a few paces to the mini-fridge. A cold beer might help solve this. I twisted the lid and tossed it into the sink.

  The bubbles slid down my throat. I knew I was just coming up with excuses. I had to tell her. Because as much as this might be a summer thing—I knew something about myself that she couldn’t. I had given her control like I never had. It was scary and ignited something, like an unquenchable thirst. Once I turned it over to her, I wanted to get lost in her over again—I couldn’t stop. If that hurricane had lasted all week, I knew I probably would have drowned trying to satisfy and please her in all the ways I knew I could.

  I thought about what coming clean would mean. Would I drag her into the cesspool of paparazzi life? Would the press hunt her down and track her every move at the store? Would her parents be faced with camera flashes as they went to church and watered their garden? I pounded my fist against the counter. I couldn’t do that to her. It would invade and ruin her life, seeping into all of the things that were private and special. It would ruin us, like all my relationships before: Clara, Becs, all lost to the fishbowl I called my life. No, this one was mine. I was going to keep Chelsea to myself as long as she would let me.

  There was a reason for all this madness. I just didn’t know what it was yet. I reached in the fridge for a second beer when I saw headlights shine through the camper window.

  I thought it might be another day before Alice or any of the other neighbors returned. There was still water on the mainland roads, and the ferry service was backed up. It was better to wait a few days for things to calm down, but I knew Alice was a tenacious one. She would be desperate to see Pirate’s Booty. Carl and Flora had reopened the campground, happy they didn’t sustain any damage. I was proud of the work I had done to help them.

  The cap twisted off in my hand easily, and I heard the door rattle with heavy banging.
>
  I looked at my towel and debated trying to change before opening the door to Alice. She would get an eyeful.

  Hell. I pushed down on the lever and the door swung open.

  “Hey.” Chelsea smiled.

  My throat caught and my chest tightened. I pulled her into the camper and twisted my hands through her hair, crashing my mouth onto hers. The need for her washed through me as I shifted her around my waist. It was only ten steps back to my checked bedroom. I stumbled backward onto the bed, where I could kiss and touch her. I grinned as her hair cascaded around me, providing a private curtain for the two of us. I was going to get to wake up with her after all.

  “Ok, so who is going to be at the party?” I shifted nervously on my feet. It was not a good idea to be seen in a throng of twenty-somethings, but I had been on the island for over a month and no one seemed to notice.

  Everyone here focused on other things. No one cared what designer you wore, what car you drove, or if you had white, straight teeth. All that mattered was that you put in a good, hard day’s work, and helped your neighbor. It was pretty simple. Every once in a while, I wondered if they would even care that I was a movie star. The longer I was there, the more I doubted it would be as exciting as the marlin that was released the other day or the fact that the only mail carrier on the island was about to deliver twins. Their idea of a crazy life was full of moments that actually mattered.

  Chelsea chimed from the bathroom. “Some people I went to high school with. The guy who is throwing the party, Paul McIntire, is kind of a show off. But the parties are always good, and there is always a bartender and music. It’s a Thursday night tradition in the summer and sometimes a Tuesday thing.”

  I didn’t think it sounded like anything else I had encountered during my time on Brees.

  “And why are we going? Wouldn’t you rather stay in?” I could think of so many other things for us to do. I had lived my share of parties. More than anyone could count. Although, I was sure someone had a tally of my adventurous nights. “I bet you wrote something pretty cool today. You could sing for me.” I missed her today at the store. Thursdays without her were lonely.

  “Because, I haven’t been in a while. I want you to go and have a good time too. Meet some people I grew up with.” She turned the light out behind her as she emerged into the bedroom wearing something black.

  I whistled. “Damn. I say no way. You’re not going like that.” I hadn’t seen her dressed like this before. Granted, I didn’t know what the style was called, but it was short. There were tiny straps, and lace that darted between the breasts I couldn’t get enough of. The hem brushed the tops of her tanned thighs.

  “What, you don’t like it?” She looked hurt.

  “The complete opposite, but I’m not sure I want guys staring at you all night.” I played with the hair by her ear, winking at her. It always made her blush.

  She slapped my chest. “No one is going to stare. I know all these guys.” She tilted her chin toward me, taunting me to kiss her. “But I hope you do. It’s a slip dress. I ordered it the other day.”

  “Darlin’, you don’t have to put on a short dress to make me check you out.” I pinned her against my chest. “You even look cute in those ugly aprons. Although, someone told me I don’t.”

  Her hands flattened against my shoulders and ran down my arms. I liked it when she did that. She raised my shirt and her nails scraped against my stomach, descending below my hipbone. I inhaled sharply. We wouldn’t be going anywhere if she kept this up. But she didn’t stop.

  “What are you doing?” I groaned. “Don’t we need to get going?” I asked.

  I gripped her shoulders, trying to steady the building want she was creating. What in the hell had gotten into her?

  “I need to take care of something first,” she purred.

  “Is that right?” I taunted.

  Before I could pull away, she tugged my shorts to my ankles. She lowered to the floor. I looked down at the fire in her eyes. This girl might kill me before we made it to the party.

  She licked her lips. “Mmmhmm.” Her hands worked the band on my boxer briefs until my cock bounded free in front of her wide eyes.

  “Oh baby. You’re playing a dangerous game,” I teased, pressing the tip of my cock to her lips.

  “Am I?” Her tongue ran along my throbbing shaft.

  “That dress. Those lips.” I gnashed my teeth. “My cock.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Before the party.”

  I was willing to be late for this. We backed up toward the bed and I sat on the edge. Chelsea knelt in front of me. I saw the determination in her eyes as she took my dick in her hands, fisting it before lowering her mouth.

  Her head bobbed as she enveloped my cock with her sweet lips.

  “Fuck,” I growled, yanking her hair in my hands, guiding her up and down.

  Every time she sucked me, she made progress, taking me to her throat. “Damn it, baby. Yes.” I thrust forward.

  I’d never seen lips look so fucking sexy in my life as I slid between them. I could watch my cock in her mouth all night—but we had other plans.

  I jolted forward, making her sputter and inhale.

  I guided the back of her head, drawing her tighter to my dick.

  “Harder,” I urged. “More, baby.”

  She was so damn eager to please me. She was relentless. Her eyes teared at the corners as she twirled her tongue along my pulsing shaft. It felt fucking incredible. She drew her lips to the head before I thrust to the back of her throat again.

  “I’m going to come,” I groaned.

  My spine tingled and clutched. The fire warmed my belly just as my release exploded in her mouth. She sucked and slurped, not slowing down.

  She rose with a triumphant smile on her face.

  “Ok. Now we can go to the party,” she announced.

  I fell back on the bed.

  I closed my hand around Chelsea’s as we walked through the gates to the beach party. We had left her place a little later than planned, but it was time well spent. Her blow jobs were fucking awesome. I laughed, loving the surprises that she kept throwing at me. I squeezed her hand.

  We climbed the steps to the beach house. “Hi, Paul. This is Jake.”

  A guy with way too much hair gel in his bangs shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, man. Glad you’re here, Chelsea. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

  She gave him a quick hug. “I know, sorry, I’ve just been a little busy.” She shot a side glance at me. I caught every innuendo she was throwing.

  “Well, I’ve missed you. Go on in. Drinks, dancing, the usual good time.” He nodded at me. “Good to have you here, man.”

  “Thanks.” I shook his hand and waited for some sign of recognition. Confident the coast was clear, I breezed past the host with Chelsea. I whispered in her ear, “He seems nice. Out of place, but nice.”

  She giggled. “Yeah, he loves parties a little too much. Lucky for him, his parents are never here. They basically handed him a summer party palace.”

  I followed her and her little black dress through a marble foyer into a great room.

  The living room was filled with strangers. It was a relief looking into blank, smiling faces.

  “Big party.” I slid my hand around her waist, feeling how thin the fabric was in the slip dress, as she called it. I couldn’t wait for round two when I took her home. There were so many things running through my mind, mainly—

  “Why don’t you head to the deck, and I’ll get us some drinks?” She pointed to the glass doors lining the living room wall.

  My cheeks reddened. Did she know that I couldn’t stop thinking about her? “Ok, but nothing fruity. I don’t do fruity.”

  “I know. I know. I’ll meet you out there.” She tipped forward and kissed me on the cheek.

  I sidestepped the bouncing crowd. They had just started dancing, and I had to hop before getting bumped by a trio of giggling girls. The deck was probably the safest place for me t
o be. I walked to the railing and looked at the pool. There was a neon techno show going off under the water. This place didn’t fit with the rest of the island. Nothing about it was like the Brees I had come to call home.

  “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  “Oh, hey.” I turned to find Derek, my surf advisor, standing close by. “Good to see you.”

  “What brings you to Paul’s?” Derek took a gulp of something from a red cup.

  I nodded toward the house. “Pretty girl.” I smiled, not knowing Derek well, but knowing any guy could relate to the allure of a beautiful woman.

  “I hear ya.” He laughed. “Yeah, there are some pretty girls here this summer. The hurricane ran a few off, but since the ferries started running again, I think the island is back to normal.”

  I wondered if that was how Derek measured the balance of normal—the pretty girl ratio on the island.

  “Did you hit the waves during the storm?” I asked.

  “You know it. We don’t get waves like that. Killer breaks. You should have tried it.”

  I shook my head. “I wanted to, but it was probably best I sat that one out. It’s going to take me awhile to get back into fighting form.” The first time I wiped out on the board had shocked me. Saltwater up the nose and everything.

  “Keep at it. You’ve got some natural ability.”

  “Thanks, man.” I leaned over the railing to watch the pool below us.

  “Der?” I turned. Chelsea was holding two red cups, but her attention wasn’t on me. It was on Derek.

  “Hey. Haven’t seen you in a while.” Derek’s eyes darted to hers. I couldn’t help but feel there was something to that look.

  “Do you two know each other?” She questioned. There was the smile I was waiting for. She handed me a drink and stood close. My hand found the dip in the small of her back.

  “Yeah, Derek helped me out a couple weeks ago. I needed a crash course in the waves.” I liked that she was tucked in close. I could smell her shampoo, and her lotion reminded me of the beach.