The Gift of Three

by Kaitlin Maitland, Allie Quinn,

  Austin kissed his way up Mercy’s stomach and over her dress until he reached her chin, giving it a hard nip. She jerked at the bite but smiled as he began to lick her, reveling in the taste of Dylan’s seed on her silky-smooth skin.

  “Come home with us,” Austin begged, in between licking and kissing her face. “Tonight. Now. We’ll make you feel light as air.”

  “You already have,” she murmured. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Neither have we. Well…Dylan was a bit of a slut before I came along, but after he met me, he wised up.” Austin pulled her up to straddle his waist as he sat up against the pantry wall.

  Dylan sidled up alongside them, resting his head against Austin’s shoulder. He nibbled and kissed along Mercy’s neck and cheek as she quietly spoke.

  “I don’t understand how you can want to bring me into your bed when I can tell you two already love each other so much.”

  “It’s not that we aren’t content with our love life. We are,” Austin said, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “We both discussed—today, if you can believe it—how we miss being with a woman. And then we met you…and you punched out the guy playing the worst renditions of Christmas songs I’ve ever heard, and there was no going back.”

  “So I’m just an entertaining enhancement to your evening?” she asked, an expression on her face that he couldn’t quite read. What would it be like to get to know her mannerisms, her moods, and her needs? He decided to trust in her penchant for sarcasm and treat it as such and not apologize like an ass for making her think that.

  “Okay, that sounds bad. When we first started toying with the idea, yes, maybe that’s what we pictured.”

  “And then we met you,” Dylan said, a postorgasmic smile on his heavy-lidded face.

  “You keep saying that.” Mercy chuckled, leaning over to nuzzle Dylan’s nose. “But I barely know anything about you two. We only met a couple of hours ago, and you’ve already made me come twice. If I didn’t know myself better, I’d think I was a big ol’ slut.”

  “Well,” Dylan said, considering. “If getting to know us better will put you at ease, then that’s what we’ll do.” He stood and then held her hips with a steadying grip as she rose from Austin’s lap. Austin admired the way Dylan took care of her, pressing a sweet kiss to her neck, then turning it into something carefree like a sloppy raspberry. The man had a tendency to lean toward the serious side of life, but when he livened up, the world seemed like a better place.

  “Where can we go to talk?” Dylan asked Mercy while lending Austin a hand up.

  “Just talk or…just talk?” Mercy asked, wiggling her eyebrows and giving them an adorably lecherous smile.

  “Just talk, you insatiable woman.” Dylan laughed, fixing her dress and hair to its previous, not-so-wild state of curls. “Talking, using our words.”

  “I suppose I know a place.” She sighed in mock disappointment.

  They finished dressing and courteously cleaned up the evidence of their pantry tryst before following Mercy to the second floor of the rather grand house, and into a small and comfy den, located on the opposite side of where all the party noise was coming from. Austin appreciated the quiet, wanting Mercy to feel at ease. He wanted her to trust them enough to open up to them.

  “What would you like to know?” Austin asked, pulling her onto one of the smaller sofas so they would all have to squeeze together with her in the middle.

  “Where are you both from?” Mercy asked.

  “I’m from here, not that you’d know it with how much my time was split between my mom’s place and my dad’s. I went to high school with one of your older brothers, actually, and Austin is from…” Dylan trailed off, smiling apologetically at his lover.

  Mercy’s eyebrows rose at what Austin knew was the disgruntled visage he put on whenever telling people where he was from. Unfortunately, Mercy was also quick on the uptake and burst out laughing.

  “No!” She giggled, covering her mouth with an apologetic expression. “You’re from Austin, Texas?”

  “I was born, not raised there. My parents weren’t that creative.” Austin shrugged, surprised at not feeling the usual annoyance he experienced when a person laughed about his namesake. There was a universally genuine comfort in her countenance, almost the same effect her mother had radiated upon greeting them at the beginning of the night, only more subdued. For the first time, Austin laughed about the clichéd origin of his name. “I have a younger brother named Texas.”

  “No.” She laughed harder, resting her hand on his knee and squeezing. “Oh, that’s the worst. Your poor brother.”

  Austin grinned over at Dylan and wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her in tight. He savored the sensation of her small body rubbing up against his chest, her bare legs nudging into his. “He is blatantly loud and proud to be a Texan, so I don’t think he minds.”

  “Do you see them often?” Mercy asked after regaining her composure.

  Austin grimaced, not wanting to get into it, but unwilling to lie to her. “Actually, no. My family disowned me.”

  “What?” She grabbed his hand. “How could they do that?”

  “Having a son with a male lover isn’t exactly smiled upon. It’s funny, though. They accepted that I was attracted to men, but once I brought Dylan home and told them I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, they freaked and promptly told me not to come back unless I was married to a woman.” Austin had long become used to the idea of never seeing his family again, never gaining their acceptance. He figured they hadn’t accepted his homosexuality to begin with, just ignored it until he brought it home and sat it down at their dinner table.

  “I’m sorry,” Mercy said in earnest. “They don’t know what they’re missing, not seeing the love you two share. It’s quite beautiful. You guys remind me of my parents with all the looks and smiles and hand-holding.” She stuck her tongue out in a childlike manner. “Gross.”

  “Well,” Dylan said, stroking her soft cheek. “That is quite the compliment coming from the product of the greatest love story to grace this small town.”

  “Oh, tell me, please,” Austin begged, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. “I don’t know it.”

  “No,” Mercy groaned, rubbing her eyes and holding back a yawn. Austin couldn’t help but feel a teeny bit responsible for that exhaustion. “I’ve heard it a thousand times, and before everybody leaves, I’m sure my dad will tell it again. It’s the only time he’ll voluntarily stand up in front of people and make a speech. He loves talking about my mama. Dylan, tell me about your family. How did they respond to your bringing home this handsome man?”

  “They didn’t.” He laughed, blushing slightly and getting that shamefaced look he always got when his coming-out story was retold. They each had quirks in their histories, Austin and Dylan, whether it was a homophobic family or a lack of confidence in one. “I brought Austin home for Sunday dinner, introduced him as my boyfriend, and they welcomed him into the family like it was just another day. They’re pretty cool about stuff like that.”

  “Which is why it was frustrating that it took you so damn long to tell anybody about us.” Austin had to say it, no matter how embarrassed Dylan became. He’d earned the right after being hidden in the closet with the man. “For the longest time he would call me bro in public. Bro.”

  “I wasn’t that bad,” Dylan muttered, hiding his face in Mercy’s hair.

  “Oh, really?” Austin scoffed before turning to Mercy. “We went on a weekend trip to another state where we knew no one, and he made us make two separate reservations with two different rooms at the hotel we stayed at. That was the last straw. I was ready to throw in the towel right then.”

  “But you didn’t,” Dylan said quietly, peeking out from behind the mass of curls.

  “No. I don’t know what made him have a change of heart, but literally the day after we checked in, he started holding my hand in public…even ki
ssing me.”

  Dylan shrugged, smiling coyly since he’d never confessed to Austin what made him change his mind. “I had a come-to-Jesus moment.”

  “A come-out-of-the-closet moment,” Mercy joked, kissing Dylan on the corner of his mouth, then repeating the tender gesture on Austin’s. He loved seeing the tiny twinkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there earlier in the evening.

  “Exactly,” Dylan agreed, smiling down at her.

  “And we’ve been together ever since,” Austin concluded with a flourish.

  “That’s so cute I might vomit. Tell me how you met so I can choke on some more sugar,” Mercy said, falling back on her usual sarcasm. Austin could tell she had been affected by their story. He let it go, realizing he didn’t know her well enough to press the subject. But that wouldn’t last forever.

  “Uh, well, that story is not nearly as romantic,” Dylan muttered, attempting to hide back in her hair.

  “Tell me, please.” She laughed, tugging him away from her neck.

  “I rear-ended Austin.”

  “Before speaking to him?” Mercy looked shocked.

  “Well, yeah. We’d never seen each other before.”

  “That’s how you met?” She began to smile. “Were you in a secret sex club or something?”

  “What?”

  “Did you bang him blindfolded?” Austin snorted at her question before Dylan caught on to the joke.

  “No! I rear-ended him with my car.” Dylan rolled his eyes as she laughed. Clearly she was proud of herself. “Dirty mind.”

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said through her laughter. “I have eight brothers. I inherited their sense of humor. Tell me about how you rear-ended the hell out of Austin. In vivid detail, please.”

  Dylan kissed her gleeful smile. “Smart ass. I’d had a bad day and was fiddling with my phone—texting, of course—and didn’t see the light turn red or the car stop in front of me.”

  “We pulled to the side”—Austin picked up the story—“and the second I saw the adorable stress lines on this handsome man’s face, I knew.”

  “That you would love him forever?” Mercy said, dreamily batting her eyelashes.

  “No, that I wanted to fuck the stress right out of him.” Christ, Dylan had been smoking hot, lines of anguish and a furrowed brow, preparing to get his ass handed to him by the driver of the car he’d rear-ended. “When I discovered he was susceptible to male sexuality…”

  “You came on to me hard.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Austin asked with his usual wink. Dylan joked that he was too playful for his own good, but Austin knew if Dylan didn’t have someone to joke around with, he would cave in to that serious man and revert back to a furrowed brow and stress lines.

  “Yeah, but if the crash hadn’t given me whiplash, your pickup lines certainly would have. We went from exchanging insurance information to ‘Let’s go get a drink in a dark bar where I can help you relax.’ Oh, and did I mention he was already cupping my balls at that point?”

  “Oh my God,” Mercy exclaimed, although Austin didn’t understand why she sounded shocked. She had done the exact same thing with them. “And that didn’t bother you?”

  “No. It was lust at first sight with Austin, like it was for us with you, missy. I’d never had any real experience with men beyond kissing and groping in dark corners or alleyways.”

  “Alleyways?” Mercy asked dubiously.

  “Told you he was a big ol’ slut before I came along,” Austin said.

  “Well, you ruined me for all alleyways and dark corners. How could I ever go back?”

  “Now we make out in kitchen pantries with sexy redheads.”

  Austin slid his hand up said sexy redhead’s dress and cupped her pussy, the underwear still wet from the past hours of ceaseless teasing and anticipation. Her instant reaction to their advances was an intense turn-on. Watching her kiss and touch Dylan was a turn-on. Hell, her watching Dylan and him together was a fucking turn-on. Everything to do with the three of them, interacting separately or together, was a turn-on.

  Austin’s fingers found her entrance, and she writhed on him, forcing his fingers in deeper and biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. They might have been alone, but who knew who could wander to that side of the house at any moment, and with them intently wrapped up in one another, they would never even notice. But Austin couldn’t stop.

  And it seemed neither could Dylan. His lover pulled down the top of Mercy’s dress, just low enough, until a perfectly pink and stiff nipple peeked out. The nipple was like a strawberry begging to be bitten into, and Mercy seemed about ready to beg to make that happen. Her hand found Austin’s cock, and her eyes widened to find the previously spent staff rapidly getting harder, spurred on to heights of lust with each thrust of his fingers inside her wet and snug channel. She truly was stunning. Dylan nibbling around her peak like a starving man was amazing. Austin never wanted this to end.

  Austin was overcome with need for his two lovers, bending to kiss her bitten bottom lip when he heard a tiny voice from the doorway ask, “Aunt Mercy?”

  Chapter Seven

  “Aunt Mercy?”

  Mercy froze, slowly taking her hand from Austin’s cock like it was a totally normal thing to be groping a perfect stranger in front of her niece. Dylan adjusted her top with a quick flick of his fingers, and she stood to greet the itty-bitty voice.

  “Gillian? What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  “I had a nightmare,” she mumbled, twirling her curlicue hair around her chubby finger. “Can I sit here with you?”

  Gillian trotted over, not waiting for a response.

  “Of course, munchkin.” Mercy picked up the girl and nodded for the guys to move over so she could sit on the end of the sofa with Gillian on her lap. Gillian rested her head against Mercy’s chest and sighed. Mercy cast an apologetic glance at Dylan and Austin.

  “Are you guys marry?” Gillian asked, pointing to the three of them in innocent curiosity.

  “It’s married, Gill, with a d sound at the end. And who, Dylan and Austin?”

  “No, all three of you.” She sat up and petted Mercy’s curls. Her niece had always had a fascination with Mercy’s long hair, and it was a rare visit that Mercy didn’t leave her presence without bows or clips threaded throughout the red strands. “Daddy told me only married people kiss.”

  “Oh, did he?” Mercy laughed at her brother’s absurd tactics to maintain his daughters’ innocence. “What else did Daddy say?”

  “He said I can only kiss and hug Kermit, nobody else.”

  “Kermit?” Dylan asked in that tone one used with children, wanting them to think they were the most interesting characters in the room.

  She crawled over to him with a smile and laid her head in his lap, leaving her feet on Mercy’s thighs.

  “Kermit the frog. He’s my best friend,” Gillian said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh my God!” Mercy’s pregnant sister-in-law exclaimed as she poked her head in the room. She turned back into the hallway and yelled, “Jacob, I found her! She’s in the den with Mercy and those two hot gay dudes.”

  From a distance off in the house, Mercy heard a woman yell, “They’re bisexual. They like women too.”

  “Ugh. Thanks, Mom,” Dylan groaned, resting his head on Mercy’s shoulder in embarrassment as she laughed at him. Finally, her family was torturing an unsuspecting fool other than herself. She felt absolutely zero sympathy for Dylan.

  Mercy turned to Dylan and Austin with a smile, playing with the lace ruffles on Gillian’s socks. They were both staring at Mercy, tender expressions gracing their masculine faces. Dylan’s lips were tight, his cheekbones sticking out as he took a deep breath through his nose. His fingers were carding gently through Gillian’s long hair. Those large hands seemed capable of many forms of strength, but the soft way he was petting Gillian’s head made her heart squeeze in weird ways, like it was remembering a dream she’d forgotten about, one she
never thought she’d have again.

  Austin didn’t take his eyes off Mercy. His hands were stretched along the back of the sofa, and that mischievous light still glinted through the haze that seemed to come over them. Tender moments were dangerous. They could make a woman want things, things she’d given up hoping for after opening what should have been an innocuous closet door on a Christmas Eve.

  Mercy thought her family check had voided four years ago. She could have sworn she’d put the secret fantasy of having what her parents had away in a locked box with its key thrown far, far away. Apparently it only took a pair of soft eyes and strong muscles to dig up the key and dangle it in front of her face, mocking all the things she had been denied.

  She pushed the thoughts aside, turning her attention on Jennifer, who, unfortunately, had keen observational skills. She eyed Mercy with a raised eyebrow, nodding in question at the men. Mercy discreetly shook her head in the negative, not wanting to give the woman any ideas. She loved Jennifer, she truly did, but the woman had trouble keeping secrets sometimes. And this secret Mercy wanted kept as close to her heart as possible, locked inside that special box, where no one could reach…at least until Austin and Dylan had come along.

  THE PREGNANT WOMAN they’d spoken to earlier in the evening collapsed onto the worn recliner across from the sofa. After remembering Jennifer was the wife of the eldest Johnson son, Jacob, Dylan should have recognized Gillian as Jennifer’s daughter. The uncanny resemblance between Jennifer and her daughter was a dead giveaway. Their blonde hair and blue eyes were the spitting image of their mother’s, bouncy curls and all, although Jennifer’s curls gave her more of a mature, bohemian edge than the innocent banana curls the girls possessed.

  “I’ve been looking for that little monster for the past ten minutes. Gillian, you know you can’t go wandering around this house without a buddy. You’ll get lost.”