The Stars in the Sky (Giving You ... #2)

by Leslie McAdam

  I didn't get it.

  "Congratulations!" said one of the women, a pretty brunette in really awesome heeled boots.

  "Nice one," said another guy to Will. "Good to meet you, Marie," he said to me.

  They all smiled and were genuinely polite. I felt relieved, like I had passed a test that I had been worried about.

  Maybe we matched after all.

  No.

  I knew we matched after all.

  Tattoos

  TWO YEARS LATER

  WILL LAY BACK IN the saran wrap-covered chair, his Wrangler jeans unbuttoned and pulled down to an indecent level. The gloved tattoo artist had his head bent, working on the design on Will's hipbone, a tattoo machine in his hand, permanently inking the purple pattern.

  Stars to match mine.

  One was already done; we had returned for his second, matching star.

  My lover. My soul mate.

  My husband.

  I sat in a chair to the side, my legs tucked under me, my arms resting on my swelling belly, my fingers playing with my ring, twirling it around. In about five months, there’d be a new Thrash child. We had decided not to find out if it was a boy or a girl, but to be surprised.

  Since I met Will, I’d finished up my degree at UCSB and opened a small therapy office in a downstairs room of the ranch house. I had patients come from miles away for counseling, mostly children, and I think that the relaxed air of Headlands Ranch aided in their recovery.

  The avocados came in really well last year, with the lucky coincidence of prices going sky high, and he was able to make a sizable down payment on the neighbor's property. We were in escrow to close, and the acreage would ensure that the area would remain rural, without the development. These days, since he wasn't getting development pressure, he was a lot more relaxed.

  Will had proposed to me a year ago, while we were out riding Thor.

  It was a summer's day and the first time that I’d ridden bareback. He was teaching me how. Once you got the feel for it, bareback riding wasn't that hard. But it was fun to go riding together, me in the front and Will behind, holding my waist.

  We ambled through the orchards and took a ride through the vineyards, back around, and then went out to our favorite bluff overlooking the beach. There, looking out at the ocean, the sun shining, and the air sultry, he pulled an antique filigree diamond ring out of his pocket and slipped it on my hand while we had stopped to look at the view.

  Startled, I looked down at my hand, and then turned around on the horse to look at him.

  "Want to be with you forever," he told me, sincerely. "I’ve loved you since I met you and always will. This was my grandmother's ring. Asked my dad for it. Want you to wear it. Marry me, Marie."

  Overcome, unable to form words, I simply nodded, and burst into tears, and he wrapped me in an enthusiastic hug and then kissed me.

  "Tonight. I don't want to wait anymore."

  "Tonight?" I answered, startled. He smiled.

  "Do you want a big wedding?"

  No. I didn't. "No."

  "Then tonight, baby. Pack a suitcase. Tell the Fieldings to meet us in Vegas."

  I burst out laughing, and he pulled out a printout of the plane tickets from his pocket.

  "You’re serious?" I asked, astonished.

  "Yep." His brown eyes were amused, but completely serious.

  "What if I’d said no?" I asked him, unable to stop challenging him.

  "You haven't said yes yet," he retorted.

  Giddy with excitement, I burst out, "Yes, you crazy cowboy, Okay, yes, today." I paused. And it hit me. "Ohmigod, we're getting married today." And I totally squealed.

  He dug his heels into Thor and we galloped back to the stables, put the tack away and settled him in, cleaned off, and were in his truck, headed to the Santa Barbara airport within an hour and a half. I shook, trembling with excitement, and could barely keep my hands off of him.

  Even Will kept laughing, happy.

  Ryan and Amelia met us at the airport. I shrieked when I saw her and almost bowled her over with a hug. Ryan gave Will one of those dude handshake, half hug, back slap things, and then wrapped me in a big hug, too. Will had apparently tipped them off to our trip. Actually, not just that, because Amelia had packed up a special suitcase with a new dress for me. She remembered my favorite one, she said, from going shopping with her for her wedding, and she went ahead and bought it for me.

  We were all wired with excitement and could barely sit still in the small charter plane. Ryan had hired one as a wedding present.

  It felt like we were barely up in the air and then we touched down in Las Vegas. When we pulled up to the Wynn, Amelia and I squealed yet again, and the guys looked amused. I was joyous and ridiculous, and I didn't care who knew it. Courtesy of Mr. Fielding, we were booked into two over-the-top luxurious suites, and I couldn't stop pacing around, checking it out. The guys took over one to watch television while Amelia and I used the other to get ready.

  Amelia had bought me a bias cut slip dress, very 1930s Jean Harlow, in an off-white silk satin. She helped me wrap my hair up in a chignon and tucked a huge red rose behind my ear. While the dress was old-fashioned, my tattoos made it edgy and I loved it. Amelia, who thought of everything, even remembered to pack a pretty strapless bra. She’d brought me strappy stilettos and handed me a bouquet of dark red roses, so dark they were almost black.

  An hour and a half later, we sent the guys off in a limo because I wanted to be at least marginally traditional and not let Will see me. The limo came back, picked us up, and we met the guys at the Chapel of the Flowers. When we arrived, Amelia got out first, wearing a tight, knee length, red strapless dress. She scoped out where the guys were, and made sure the coast was clear and that the chapel was ready for us.

  Then I walked in, and walked down the aisle, holding her arm, trembling from excitement, but completely ecstatic to be marrying my guy.

  Will stood at the end of the aisle in black pants, a white shirt with a bolero tie, a black western jacket, and boots. Fuck me, cowboy. The white shirt contrasted with his tan skin, and his hair was a mop of dark lusciousness. Ryan, stunning as always, wore slacks, a jacket, and a shirt and tie. They both had red roses in their lapels. Amelia to the rescue.

  I turned to Amelia. "Is this heaven?"

  She laughed.

  When I arrived at the end of the short aisle, Will held my hand, and looked down at me, his brown eyes loving. "You okay?" he whispered.

  "Never better," I whispered back and squeezed his hand.

  "You look so beautiful," he whispered, "Can't wait until you’re mine."

  “I’ve been yours since I met you,” I whispered back and he smiled.

  And then it was "I do," and "I do," and when it was time, he dipped me back and kissed me so that the entire outside world dropped away. Then I noticed Amelia whooping next to me.

  When he finished, I put my hand over my mouth and giggled.

  Mrs. William C. Thrash III.

  I felt like I’d come home at last.

  When we were outside, giddy still, Ryan asked what we wanted to do next.

  Did he need to ask? Vegas is my kind of place. The party girl in her element.

  Let's just say we had fun that night.

  Now, a year later, as the tattoo artist wiped up the blood, I asked Will, "You're seriously going to vote no on that proposition?"

  "It's gonna cost the taxpayers money," he responded.

  "Well, I'm voting yes, so it's gonna cancel yours out. We might as well not vote."

  He laughed.

  I turned to the tattoo artist. "This is the way we are. Fight and then makeup sex and then fight and then, well, you get the idea."

  The tattoo artist looked up at Will, who shrugged, and then said, "Better to argue about something than to argue about nothing. It means you care what the other one thinks."

  Will and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  "Yep," said Will. "We do." And he
motioned for me to come close, and gave me a wet kiss.

  That night, in the ranch house, a dressing on his hipbone, the stars on his hips united with mine for the first time.

  And definitely not the last.

  Author's Note

  A friend asked me to write one of Will's threesomes for her. I did it, although I was concerned about taking away from his love for Marie by describing sex with someone else. Or two someones.

  Still, I wrote it. Because I write porn, I mean erotica, for my friends.

  So here's a twenty-three-year-old Will's first threesome. Don't read it if you can't imagine him being with anyone but Marie.

  Eleven years earlier

  Santa Maria, California

  "MGD," I told the bartender, a tough broad. She leaned over the bar in a pink v-neck t-shirt that showed too much of her tan, wrinkled, sagging jugs. Her overly bleached blonde hair looked like it’d fall out of her head if you touched it.

  She was nice to me, though, calling me hun, and making sure I didn't have to wait too long for a beer. I was on beer number two. Still early.

  Slapping down a coaster, she took off the cap and handed me the bottle.

  I took a pull, my back to the counter, and surveyed the crowd, hooking a heel of my boot to the rung towards the bottom of the bar.

  The dive played Brooks and Dunn, always a good sign. I hated it when they played this other, newer country shit that was coming out. Garth Brooks started it, and he's okay, but I'm a traditional guy. George Strait. This new shit's not real country with any real emotion; it's just manufactured pop. Makes me disgusted.

  To my right, sitting at the bar stools, lurked a big bear of a guy with a beard and a gut barely covered by his Harley t-shirt and his woman, prettier than he deserved, both drinking whiskey and laughing. To my left, an older, skinny cowboy, clothes hanging off of his frame, sitting alone nursing a Coors. There were plenty of people here tonight, Friday night, after work, wanting to blow off steam: College students, ranchers, farmers, and country folk.

  I sure needed to cut loose. It’d been a long week of water pumps going out on the ranch, cattle getting loose, fences needing fixing, and my ma having an episode. I needed a release and I needed it now. The beer helped. But, no way around it, I needed to get laid and my hand wasn't going to do the job.

  As I drank my beer, a big group of college girls walked in, followed by a couple of cowgirls, who looked older than me, but not by much. One was a blonde, with long, wavy hair and a pretty face. The other was a sultry Latina, all curves, in a tiny jean skirt and white boots. They stopped as they walked in, the blonde turning to whisper something in the Latina's ear. She had on Rocky Mountain jeans, the high waisted, not fashionable kind, but I love 'em because there's no back pockets so there's nothing to obscure the view of pure ass. Definite prospects.

  But which one?

  They came over to the bar and sidled up next to me, the blonde ordering a Bud Light and the Latina a Jack and Coke. I raised an eyebrow to the blonde, who giggled and said, "Hi, I'm Patty. This is Luz. What's your name?"

  I told them, shook their hands, and pulled a sip of my beer. "You all go to school here?" I asked.

  "No. We're not from around here. I went to community college ages ago, but never finished," said the blonde. Patty. Patty. Remember that. "I work as a dental assistant. Luz is getting her teaching credential."

  "Cool."

  The song changed to George Strait's "All My Ex's Live in Texas." Yeah, that fits. Didn't wanna think about her. "Wanna dance?" I asked the blonde.

  She giggled, looked at her friend, and said, "Sure."

  After my mom had that car accident when I was a baby, she could never walk again. But as a young woman, she’d really loved to dance. So she made sure that I had lessons when I was a kid. I could do it and I liked to. Not much to it, really, you just gotta lead the way.

  Patty smelled good, very pretty, and once I got my hands on her, I could tell that she was all soft and sweet.

  "How old are you, handsome?" she asked, looking up at me. Her eyes were light blue, very clear.

  "Twenty-three."

  "You're just a baby," she said, laughing.

  "Man's not supposed to ask, but you?"

  "Twenty-seven. Luz is twenty-eight." Older women. I like 'em.

  "What brings you out tonight?"

  "We needed to get a little crazy," she said. "We've been working too hard."

  I nodded.

  The song ended, but another one started, just as good but a little faster, so I spun her around and she laughed. Then she pulled me a little tighter to her, and I breathed in the scent of her shampoo. A good, clean girl. I don't know if she would be the one for tonight. She seemed experienced, but she also seemed too innocent. Maybe it was the blue eyes. When the song ended, we went back over to her friend, Luz, who babysat the beers. "Thanks for watching my drink," I said.

  "Don't mention it," she said.

  "You wanna dance too?"

  She brightened up a little bit. "Yeah. You seem to know what you're doing out there."

  Dancing, sure, I can do. Fucking, sure. But figuring out how to juggle flirting with two women at once? Dunno.

  The Latina smelled good too. Like fancy perfume, but the good kind. Her dark, thick hair hung over her shoulders and it spun around when I turned her. The blonde was good to dance with but the Latina really knew how to dance, moving with me well.

  Then she leaned up in my ear and said, "You think you can take us both on, cowboy?"

  Fuck me.

  I looked down at her, all pretty in her boots and mini skirt and I furrowed my eyebrows together.

  "What are you . . . you saying what I think you're sayin'?"

  "Patty and me made a deal," she replied. "We were going to go out tonight and pick up the most handsome cowboy we could find. If we could find two, fine, but we were going to take him to a hotel and fuck his brains out."

  Shit.

  "Shit." My dick stirred. "That's kinda forward," I said. Couldn't help it. It was.

  "You think?" she answered, sarcastically. "You don't get anything in life unless you ask for it. The second we saw you, Patty and I agreed that you're the one. So, you up for it? Two at once?"

  She didn't have to ask me twice. This was what I had come out for, although I wasn't anticipating two. I'd never had two girls at once. Since she broke off the engagement, I'd picked up plenty of women from bars, been to their houses, fucked them, and left them. But this way, with them picking me up? Didn't happen that much.

  Still, I was up for it.

  I nodded. "Where to?"

  "We drove out from Fresno because it was too damn hot and we wanted to go to the beach. So we have a hotel in Pismo. Wanna join us?"

  "Tell me which one and I'll follow you in my truck."

  I was glad that none of us had too much to drink so we could leave immediately, horny as hell. I followed Patty and Luz in their big ol' white truck with mud on the tires to Pismo Beach, met them in the parking lot, and followed them up the elevator to their room, which looked over the beach. Pretty nice place.

  They pulled out a bottle of Jack, a Diet Coke, and I went down the hall for some ice.

  When they let me in, I asked, "Have you gals done this before?"

  "Nope," said Patty, at the same time Luz said, "Yes."

  Interesting.

  "I'm bi, and she's open," said Luz. "Have a drink," and she handed me a Jack and Diet Coke.

  I downed it, needing the liquor to take away the awkwardness. The Jack warmed my throat and belly and I poured another one. I needed it.

  "Alright girls, what are you thinking?"

  They each sipped on their drinks, Patty giggling and Luz looking thoughtful.

  "Strip poker," Luz announced.

  I wasn’t bad at poker. Luz went over to a suitcase and pulled out a deck of cards and she and I sat on the little light green hotel couch, Patty on an armchair. I stretched out my legs, still wearing my boots. At leas
t they didn’t have too much mud on them.

  Luz dealt the cards and I turned them over. Pair of twos and a pair of Jacks.

  We went around and bet, and I picked up a card. Another two. Full house. Lady Luck was with me tonight.

  When it was time to show our cards, I won. Both Luz and Patty folded and took off their shoes.

  I took another shot of Jack. I’d better watch it.

  We played another few rounds. Eventually, I lost my boots, my socks, my belt, and my shirt. Luz had only her bra and a mini skirt. Patty down to just her satin, light blue panties, her perky little tits on display, her hair brushing her shoulders. The bottle of Jack Daniels was low, though by this point I’d quit the shots and just drank the soda.

  I was fucking hard.

  Especially looking at Patty's pretty tits.

  "So what do we do when we lose?" asked Patty. "Since I'm the one who’s lost the most hands?"

  "The two winners fuck the loser," said Luz.

  I laughed. "That doesn't make sense."

  She shrugged. "Motivation to get your clothes off."

  We played another round, and I lost the hand. This meant my jeans had to go. But since I hadn't worn anything underneath, I’d be the first to get naked.

  I lost the game.

  I stood up.

  One minute, I wore my jeans.

  The next, they were around my ankles.

  And the next, the girls were on me, Luz on her knees in front of me, sucking me off.

  "Fuck yeah, baby," I groaned, as she licked the length and then tongued my balls. After some god-fucking-awesomeness, I pulled out because I didn't want to go just yet. "Clothes off, Luz. You won. Patty, you too. We're gonna try something."

  Patty giggled and shimmied out of her panties, revealing a pussy with almost no hair. She was so downy, it was like there was nothing there.

  Luz stared up at me, then stood up, took off her mini skirt, standing in a black bra and black panties. She slowly took off the bra, one snap at a time, then her panties. She was bare. Fuckin' awesome.

  "Here's what we're gonna do," I said. "First, I'm gonna get you both off. Then one of you is gonna ride my face and the other is gonna ride my cock."