Candy Ever After (Hot Candy Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  Not enough that he hasn’t told his parents yet. Not enough that he hasn’t met our families and officially declared he’s with us.

  Not enough that he hasn’t given Jet what Jet gave him, even if Jet never demanded it, or even asked for it, as far as I know. They’ve both come so far since I first talked to them, and even more since we moved in together, but this…

  Joel presses himself between my legs, lifting my skirt up until it’s bunched up around my hips and kisses me harder, one hand massaging my breast, his thumb circling my nipple.

  “What do you want?” he breathes against my lips, his hard-on pressing against my hypersensitive clit through our underwear. It hurts a little, in a good way. Threatens to zap out my brain with desire.

  “You. Now. Inside me.”

  I’ve always told my boys what I need, at least in bed, although what I really want… this promise of forever? I can’t tell them that. I’m scared it’s too soon, too much.

  I’ve never felt so insecure in my life, and I’ve had some lows. Probably because I’ve never loved anyone so much.

  “Yeah.” He rubs himself against me, his thick cock almost bursting from his briefs as it slides along my seam. “Fuck, girl...”

  I lose track of time, of reality, of anything but Joel as he does a small push up, his abs tightening and biceps flexing, so that he can push down his briefs and pull out his cock. The need to feel it inside me lances through my insides.

  God, yes.

  “Fucking hell,” Jet whispers, and I look up to find him moving behind Joel, sliding his hands from Joel’s shoulders down his arms. His mouth fastens on Joel’s neck, his eyes peering at me from under his long lashes. “Give it to her.”

  “What about you?” Joel manages, his breath cut short when I put my hand over his, gripping his cock. “Jet.”

  “I fucking love your back,” Jet mutters, lifting his head. “And your ass. I’ll just touch you while you fuck Candy, see if you like it.”

  Joel’s cheeks redden. “What will you—?”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t fuck you.” Jet winks at me and licks a line on Joel’s strong shoulder. “Not this time.”

  I trust Jet to do this right, to give Joel what he really needs, not just what he thinks he wants tonight.

  And that’s the last of my coherent thoughts as Joel tugs my panties to the side and enters me in one long, slow thrust that has me clutching his shoulders and hanging on for dear life. He bows over me, grunting, planting his hands on either side of my head, and my toes curl on the covers as he slides deeper.

  Jet kneels beside us, one hand in the small of Joel’s back, sliding lower, to his ass. His other hand is wrapped firmly around his own hard-on, and he looks so hot like that, only the feel of Joel rocking into me distracts me.

  Then Joel groans and stills, his body trembling. “Jet…” he hisses. “Jesus.”

  “That good, huh?” Jet leans closer to Joel, his hand moving. “You like my finger inside you?”

  Oh shit.

  Joel thrusts inside me, his movements jerky, his cheekbones flushed, his eyes over-bright. Sweat glimmers on his face as he fucks me, rocking back on Jet’s hand every time. He’s panting harshly, his mouth slack with pleasure, his cock so swollen and hard I know he’s close to coming.

  I’m not far, either. Not with his soft cursing, the roughness of his thrusts, the way his breath catches on a moan every time he rocks back.

  “Damn, this is so hot,” Jet mutters, “you’re both so hot, I—”

  I cry out as I come again, a different, deeper orgasm that I feel all the way to the tips of my boobs and down to my toes—a hot rushing wave that spears through my body, then draws me under with aftershocks.

  “Oh fuck.” Joel fucks me harder, plunging inside me faster, until he shudders and moans, the spill of his hot cum triggering more pleasurable pulses in the deepest part of me.

  Jet gasps, leaning back, his cock jerking, painting his tattooed chest with cum. “Hot damn…”

  Joel reaches out and grabs him, hauling him to his side before Jet is even done coming. “Jesus, that was good. Did you…?” He shakes his head, grinning. “Will you fuck me now, Jet?”

  Jet laughs breathlessly and his eyes find mine. “Not today. But you liked my finger up your ass, so… Maybe.”

  “Maybe? What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means…” Jet turns and winks at Joel. “We’ll try something bigger than my finger next time.”

  I lift a hand, too wiped out to move anything else. “I volunteer.”

  “To do what?” Jet looks baffled.

  I wave said hand back and forth. “To help. Participate. Whatever.”

  I think Joel will back out, but he just huffs a laugh. “I see.” He cups Jet’s face. “I vote we accept her help.”

  “Most definitely,” Jet agrees, leaning in for a kiss. “I can try my toys on both of you at the same time, how about that?”

  They drag me up and kiss me, too, one after the other, and all I can think of is, We’re going to initiate Joel to sex toys.

  When do we start?

  ***

  Not today, as it turns out. We barely sit down to dinner—Joel’s world famous Spanish omelet and a special about Japanese comics on TV—when my phone rings.

  I ignore it the first and second times, worn out from sex and just happy to be sandwiched between my boys on the couch, eating and listening to Jet commenting on one thing or another.

  The third time I sigh, put my plate on the coffee table and go answer.

  “Candy!” My mom sounds all breathless. “I’ve been calling you all day.”

  “No, Mom. You only called three times, all in the last ten minutes.”

  “Really? It felt like longer.”

  I shake my head and can’t help a snicker. She drives me nuts so often, but sometimes she’s just plain funny. “What’s up?”

  “Just checking up on my baby girl. Your brother has threatened to disconnect his phone if I call him one more time, so he said.”

  Ow. “Why? What did you do?”

  “Who says I did something? He’s being difficult. When your mother asks you for advice on an important matter, you shouldn’t threaten never to speak to her again. Jet barely knows me and he was so helpful.”

  That sets of a number of alarms. “Mom, what did you ask Holden about?"

  “Oh, just this and that. You know.”

  “No, I don’t.” Though I have a nasty suspicion. Please let me be wrong. “Tell me.”

  “Think you could help?” She sounds skeptical and rightly so, if my guess is correct. “I needed some help choosing a vibrating buttplug, you see, and Jet already said he doesn’t know much about those.”

  My jaw goes slack. I can feel it unhinging. It takes me a long moment to find my voice and the words to form a question. “And you thought your son might know?”

  It’s a legit question. Not just because Holden is her son, but also because he’s, well, Holden. Quiet and withdrawn and probably asexual.

  Nothing wrong with that. Only… yeah. Vibrating buttplugs?

  “Jet said vibrators are the bomb, and he’s right. But I mentioned to him that I’m a back door virgin and he suggested buttplugs. Such a considerate, helpful young man, your Jethro.”

  Holy crap. Jet and I need to have a little talk…

  Also, oh God, did my mom just utter the words “back door virgin”?

  “Mom, you don’t need a buttplug, vibrating or otherwise. Trust me.”

  “And why not? You dad sure as hell isn’t going to give me what I need.”

  A vise tightens around my chest. “And what’s that?”

  She sighs. “A woman has needs, Candy. You know that.”

  “But at your age—”

  “My age? I’m not old! My sex drive is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I had this boyfriend in college, he was a sex machine. He’d hammer me day and night, until I walked funny every morning, and—”

  �
�Oh God, Mom, stop.” I push my glasses up my nose, irritated.

  “You don’t want me to be happy?”

  God. I just don’t want to think about my parents having sex, with each other, or other people. Like, ew.

  But Jet’s right. I sometimes forget that they are people like you and me, and that sex is important in a relationship.

  Speaking of which… “Have you talked to Dad about your experimentation?”

  “He won’t even try to understand me.”

  “But Mom… you love him, right?” The pause that follows isn’t encouraging. “Mom?”

  “Relationships are a complicated thing, jellybean.”

  “I know that!”

  Oh my God. She’s leaving Dad, I just know it.

  Does he know it?

  “Baby girl, is Jethro around? Could I talk to him for a minute?”

  “You called me because you want to talk to Jet? About vibrating buttplugs? Seriously?”

  “Oh no, of course not.”

  “Really? Should I believe you?”

  “Gosh,” Mom says. “Would I lie to you? No, I wanted to ask him about silicone dildos. There are so many choices! Should I get a g-spot one? Oh and I saw these ejaculating dildos! I thought—”

  “Mom. I’ll get you Jet.”

  And I’ll kill him later.

  ***

  “And did you kill him?” Brylee sips at her cappuccino the next day, in a tiny coffee shop near campus. “You would have told me if you had, right?”

  I sigh and tuck my hair behind my ears. It has been a long day in classes, and last night I fell asleep before Jet returned from talking to my mom, so…

  “No killing.”

  “Good. I kinda like Jet.”

  I huff as I stir sugar into my latte. “Glad to hear it. I think he’s fond of you, too.”

  She grins. “He is?”

  I think Jet finds Brylee amusing. Joel is… confused by her. Doesn’t know how to deal with her. He’ll eventually find out what we all already know: you accept Brylee as she is and laugh when you can’t help it. She doesn’t take offense, mostly. And she’s a loyal and kind friend.

  Even if she’s obsessed with a guy who doesn’t want anything to do with her. She’s pretty, and bright, and smart, and—

  “Can a dildo get stuck in your vagina? You know, if you push it too far inside?”

  I choke on my latte and put my glass down so that I can cough and sputter without burning myself on top of everything. “Bry!”

  “What? It’s a legit question.”

  “Really? Why the sudden interest in dildos?”

  “Well, your mom is trying them, Simone is trying them, so why not me? I feel left behind.”

  Jesus on crack.

  It’s not that I have anything against dildos. Heck, I made good use of mine before I started dating Joel and Jet. So why am I so shocked?

  Relax, Candy. Stop freaking out over this. Women do want satisfaction, Mom was right.

  Mom was right. Crap…

  “So… this threesome thing.” Brylee smiles brightly at me. “Seems to be working out fine, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I’ve gotten the cough under control and I’m back to sipping my frothy milk and coffee concoction. “You had doubts?”

  “Well, you had doubts at first, if I recall.”

  I shrug. Yeah, I did, and I hate that they still linger. “Why, are you thinking of giving threesomes a try?”

  “God, no.” She makes a dismissive pshhh sound. “There’s only one man who can have me body and soul.”

  “Let me guess. Ryan?”

  To my surprise, she shakes her head. “I’m not so sure anymore. I mean, the star signs align and everything, but you made me promise to look elsewhere, and besides, he should have caved by now, right?”

  “Right.” I give her a long look. “Why the sudden change of heart? Got your sights on someone else?”

  A blush seeps into her cheeks. “No. Nobody. At all.”

  Okay… “Just asking.”

  She takes a quick sip of her cappuccino. “This party you guys are organizing… Will Jet’s cousin be there?”

  I grin behind my glass. “He’s invited. Hasn’t confirmed yet. Why?”

  “Oh, no particular reason.”

  Yeah, right. “You’re coming, right?”

  “I’ll even bring my patented chocolate cake.”

  “You have a patented cake? Since when?”

  “This week. I’ve decided to learn to cook.”

  “Really.” The most Brylee ever cooked when we were roommates was cheese on toast and boiled eggs.

  “Yes. My mom says that if you’re a good housekeeper, men will flock to you.”

  “I’m not a good housekeeper and I have my boys,” I say.

  “You already have them,” Brylee says with perfect Brylee-logic. “So you don’t need to cook. That’s different.”

  Welcome to the rabbit hole. It’s nice, deep and dark, and doesn’t obey the rules of our world.

  “No, Bry. The whole point is that I didn’t need to know how to cook or clean like a pro in the first place. I found love anyway.”

  “That’s because Joel does the cooking.”

  Okay, she has a point. I think? She has me so frigging confused.

  “Fine, then bring the cake. Better still, come in early to help us fix up the apartment, yeah?”

  “I’ll see if I can. Are your parents coming, too?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mom wouldn’t miss it for the world, and I need to speak to Dad, see if he has any idea that Mom is planning to elope with a rentboy and a suitcase full of dildos.

  Holy crap…

  Chapter Fourteen

  Joel

  When I think of my parents, I see a wall. Between them. Between them and myself. There is no bridge, no opening, no warmth, no understanding or forgiving.

  I’ll tear down that wall. I’ll speak the things they don’t wanna hear.

  I won’t be afraid of being who I really am.

  Even if I’m not perfect.

  I’m not stressed.

  This morning I called home and told my mom I’ll swing by tomorrow to see them. I have a little speech spinning like a top inside my head, about my choices and decisions and my hope they will see my side of things.

  That they will accept the invitation to the party and meet my girlfriend and boyfriend. Yeah, complete with rainbow-farting unicorns and rosy fluffy clouds. And now I’m sitting at work and trying to focus on numbers.

  Christ, hope is a scary thing.

  After making the wrong calculation for the third time in a row, I get up to grab some shitty coffee from the vending machine down the corridor.

  Yeah, I’m not fucking stressed. Sure.

  I’m really bad at bullshitting myself.

  My office mate gets up, too. “I need a break,” he announces to no-one in particular—good, because I’m not paying him any attention—and follows me out.

  We stand awkwardly side by side, waiting for the machine to clank its slow way through the process of making coffee that tastes like dirt someone peed in. It’s an art. It’s technology at its finest.

  “What was your name again?” my new colleague asks.

  “Joel.”

  “New here, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  I should make an effort and be nice. I should stop being paranoid about everyone around me. So I attempt a smile.

  Judging from the guy’s face, it’s not recognizable as such. “And your name?”

  “Edgar.”

  “Allan Poe?” I quip.

  He blinks at me, clearly without a clue. “What?”

  “Forget it.” I receive my plastic cup of scalding bitter coffee and gesture for him to request his own. “Sorry. I’m a bit tense.”

  “Oh no worries. I’m tense, too.”

  “And why’s that?” I sip at the coffee and burn my tongue.

  That’s a good thing. By burning off my taste buds I might
be able to swallow my shitty coffee without a hitch.

  “I’m about to propose to my girlfriend. Have you ever done it?”

  “Done what?” My mind instantly wanders into the gutter and looks through its pickings—me and Jet fucking Candy at the same time, Candy sucking me off while Jet pounds into her, Jet blowing me while I finger Candy, Candy—

  “Proposed to your girlfriend.”

  “I’m bi,” I say automatically—and since when do I say such things automatically? Holy shit.

  There, you see? Bisexual. I can speak the word and not have an aneurism, although cold sweat is running down my temples.

  And a tick has started in my eyelid.

  Fuck.

  “Oh.” He looks up from where he’s retrieving his own ugly plastic cup full of shitty coffee. “Okay. And do you have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend?”

  “Both.”

  His eyes bug out a little. He sloshes the coffee and winces when it splashes his hand. “All right, then. Have you proposed to them?”

  “Not yet.”

  Not. Yet.

  I stare down into my murky coffee and inhale sharply. What the fuck just happened? Am I seriously considering what I implied?

  Propose to Candy and Jet. Ask them to be mine forever.

  Not necessary. Too soon. Not a good idea.

  … or is it? I know I love them. I know they love me. We don’t have to get married officially, with a Justice of the Peace and a crowd. I only wanna tell them they are the most important people in the world to me.

  I can do that.

  “Thank you, buddy.” I slap Edgar on the shoulder, making him yelp—unless it’s because he spilled more scalding coffee on his fingers and not because of my manly slap—and whistle as I return to the office.

  Oh yeah, I can certainly do that.

  ***

  I stay at work longer to finish the calculations I messed up because of my daydreaming and worrying. Then, before I clock out, I call my sis. Evie knows this girl, Amber, who makes awesome handmade jewelry. I have an idea about rings. Adjustable ones, so I don’t have to worry about them not fitting.

  Evie squeals when she hears my voice, and then again when I reveal my plan to her.