by Jory Strong
The stern-faced woman behind the school office counter stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. She spouted about privilege and privacy. She refused more than a flicked glance at the photograph Madison had placed on the counter and wouldn’t acknowledge the existence of yearbooks.
Not totally unexpected, but it didn’t deter him and it wouldn’t defeat him. They weren’t going to leave without learning something for Madison, even if that something was that this was a dead end.
He turned toward Madison and leaned his hip against the counter, projecting the same slightly insolent attitude he’d mastered in his teens when he’d been sent to the office for disciplinary action—usually because he’d gotten caught running card games.
If he could have floated a bet, he’d have tried to win some of his money back by wagering that the open door to the far left was the principal’s office.
“Ready to go?” he asked, making sure his voice carried. “Should be pretty easy to find out who’s graduated from this place. Once we do, we can start digging in their business and paying them visits. That’ll be good fun.”
“True,” she said, using his inflection and making him grin.
He pushed away from the counter. “They’re going to love having people wonder why Crime Tells is taking a hard look at them.”
She picked up the photograph.
As if on cue, a man wearing an expensive suit and a politician’s smile emerged from the office and came to the counter.
“I’m Harry Kipling, the principal here. Can I help you with something?”
Score! Shane tipped his head in the direction of the photograph. “We’re trying to locate this girl. She might have been a student here somewhere around twenty-four years ago, give or take.”
Kipling gave the photograph more of his attention than the woman had, but shook his head. “You understand that we can’t open our records. But I see no reason not to allow you access to the school library. The entire collection of yearbooks is there. It will save you time and spare our graduates from unnecessary interruptions.”
Interruptions came out as a smooth euphemism for harassment. Shane grinned. Either worked for him.
“That’d be excellent,” he said, hip bumping Madison a moment later as they walked down the same hallways they’d roamed the night before.
They passed locker 180, the two of them exchanging a smile and a smoking hot glance. Who said high school was all bad?
They reached the library and discovered that being allowed access to the yearbooks didn’t mean being left unattended. The uber-helpful librarian practically lived at their backs.
It kept conversation to a minimum. It also reminded him of the challenges that came with being in school and horny.
He draped an arm along the back of Madison’s chair and stopped turning the pages of a yearbook in favor of leaning into her and looking at the pictures she was studying.
He slipped a hand beneath the table to settle on her stomach. His fingers stroked the waistband of her jeans.
She blushed. Actually blushed.
He snickered and played with her zipper.
She grabbed his hand, forcing it onto his thigh.
“We are so not doing this,” she whispered.
The librarian appeared from between stacks.
He shot her an innocent look.
Her censorious expression was a cease-and-desist order.
Yep, just like when he was in school.
The instant she disappeared, Madison forced their hands to the boner that’d come on at passing the locker.
A shudder went through him. “What happened to we are so not doing this?”
Her snicker made him laugh, even if it sounded more like a groan.
“Behave,” she said. “The quicker we look at these books, the sooner we can go to your house and then hook up with Tyler.”
His dick jumped, making him glad it was his hand covering it and not hers. Sweat prickled along his skin because he didn’t know if that last bit was a continuation of the whole my first serious boyfriend was bi conversation that he did not want to engage in, or just straight talk.
“I’m all for getting done and getting out of here,” he said.
Ideal would have been to write down the names of all the male students attending around the time Madison was conceived. Real was that they had zero fix on Bio-dad’s age. He could be thirty years older than the girl in the picture, or more. Wouldn’t be the first time a guy who knew better had banged jailbait and ended up on the hook for a kid.
That scenario worked as well as the one he’d spun earlier, involving Madison’s biological grandparents being the force behind her being made to disappear. Could be that it’d been Bio-dad who’d arranged for her to be taken out of state and adopted. Pay Bio-mom off, but to be sure, fix it so there’d be no changing her mind, no trail leading back to him—assuming he hadn’t been listed on Madison’s real birth certificate.
Shane rocked backward in the chair. Either of those scenarios worked, but neither of them answered the question, why was Bio-dad coming back into her life now?
He pulled his arm off the back of Madison’s chair to more quickly get through the yearbooks.
They got nothing. Even imagining Bio-mom with different hair colors, different hair styles, none of the faces matched.
He closed the last yearbook with a slam guaranteed to bring the librarian. “It was worth a shot.”
“I’m glad we took the time to come here.”
They stood. He took Madison’s hand, decided not to trot out the thoughts about Bio-dad having been the one to arrange for her disappearance. No point in it. The answers were ahead of them. They just had to get to the end of Bio-dad’s whole getting to know me bullshit.
And in the meantime…
Some fun, fast, furious fucking. Some slow, sweet lovemaking.
The halls were empty of students, not that it mattered.
He stopped her in front of locker 180, pressed her against it the way he had the night before and said, “Now where did we leave off?”
Her laugh sent pulses of pleasure straight to his heart. Her hands going to his chest, fingertips grazing the nipple ring sent streaks of pleasure straight to his dick.
“You really want to do this here, with the threat of the principal showing up hanging over us?”
“Never stopped me before.”
“So I’m just one of many high school conquests?” She thrummed the nipple ring and nearly dropped him to his knees.
“I can’t remember any of the others. I don’t want to.” Truth.
Truths that not so long ago would have sent him running the same way they had Cole. Truths he felt suddenly desperate for her to believe.
He pitched forward, mouth covering hers, tongue driving between her lips as if he’d hammer the message home, that nothing about this was the casual that’d always defined his relationships with the opposite sex.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest to his, making him moan. Her tongue met the thrusts of his, wrapped him into a knot of hot, hungry want.
The grind of her pelvis to his had his cock screaming to be freed and his skin feverish with the need to get rid of the material touching it. He tugged her tank top upward. Desire shuddered through him at pressing his hands to her naked sides.
He deepened the kiss. His hands moved toward her breasts.
The sound of high heels tapping toward them at a brisk, authoritative pace penetrated his lust.
He pulled away from her, grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here!”
They bolted, away from the teacher bearing down on them.
Reached the Jeep and erupted into laughter.
When it subsided, heat flared again, even hotter. Fuck he wanted her. Needed her.
“My place?”
“Your place,” she said, licking her lips, threatening his control.
The instant they were inside the house he tangled a hand in her hair, pulled her to him
.
“My turn,” he said, his subconscious dragging Tyler into the room with them.
Her smile, the desire in her eyes was a reminder. My first serious boyfriend was bi. We used to look at gay manga together.
Not going there!
He took her mouth, nearly reached down to rip the front of his jeans open when she sucked his tongue.
Moaning, he wrapped his arm around her waist, dragged her lower body against his, pleasure shooting upward at the contact.
The hand in her hair abandoned silky strands for the feel of skin. He shoved it beneath the light blue tank, beneath the thin bra.
Her nipple stabbed his palm, sending a streak of ecstasy straight to his cock.
His tongue delved into her mouth, deeper, faster.
Her lips tightened and she sucked harder, her hand mimicking his, shoving beneath the T-shirt. Zeroing in on the nipple ring, stroking, tugging so the lust roaring through him sounded like a thousand decks of cards being shuffled.
He was fucking out of control, practically dry-humping and didn’t freaking care.
“Off,” he panted, breaking the contact, getting hotter at seeing kiss-swollen lips and the smoky, sultry look in her eyes.
Her hand swept downward.
His abdomen went instantly taut. His dick battered against the front of his jeans.
She grabbed the bottom of his T, jerking it upward, revving him up with the knowledge that she wanted him as naked as he wanted her.
The shirt hit the floor.
Hers followed.
Then the bra.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
It was even more of a turn-on seeing that her nipples were slightly bruised and knowing Tyler was the one to leave them that way.
He cupped her breasts, pressed them together, thumbs brushing over perfect pink nipples. There was no keeping his mouth off them.
He bent down. Kissed the slope of a breast, took a nipple between his lips.
He sucked, loving the little moans she made. Loving the way they got louder the longer he sucked, the harder he sucked.
He kissed his way to the other breast. Sucked. Rubbed it with his tongue. Sucked, already knowing he could spend hours sprawled on any surface and doing this.
Her hands went to the front of his jeans. His hips jerked, scorching lust filling his head.
The fear that he’d come the instant her fist gripped him was drowned beneath the desire to have his cock freed and her touching it.
She undid the button. Pulled the zipper downward.
Heat engulfed him when she grasped him.
His mouth returned to hers on a moan, pleasure surging with each thrust of his tongue, each stroke of her hand. Each rub of her nipples against his chest.
He wasn’t going to last. He needed to do something fast.
Forcing her hand away from his dick, he stripped, losing the rest of his ability to think when Madison peeled her jeans and underwear off, baring the small landing strip of blonde hair and a pussy that was calling his name.
They weren’t going to make it to the bedroom. Weren’t even going to make it to the couch.
He pulled her against him, spinning them as he slammed his mouth on hers and crowded her against the back of the door. He thrust against her, desire intensifying with each press and rub of his cock against her pussy.
Wrenching his mouth away from hers, he said, “Protection.”
Somehow he managed to separate long enough to fish the condom from his jeans and get it on. He took her mouth again. Lifted her. Struggled not to close his eyes when he pushed into her.
He wanted to lose himself. But he wanted to look at her more, to drink in the heat as their eyes met, to memorize the look of pleasure as he filled her. To watch the build of satisfaction as his hips pistoned, slow at first, then faster, then faster still. Her breath catching, her back arching, her head finally going back, the ruthless grip of her inner muscles as she came stripping away the last of his control.
He pumped. Wild, furious thrusts. And he couldn’t remember anything ever having felt as good. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as badly as he did her.
Once wouldn’t be enough. A thousand times might just take the edge off.
He came, release scorching through his cock, blowing him apart and leaving him in a haze of utter satisfaction.
Recovery, the steadying of his heartbeat and evening out of his breathing, took a long time to arrive.
“What do you think?” he said, not in a hurry to pull his cock free. “Stay here the rest of the day?”
“That’s one option. Or you could show me the rest of your place and we could check out a different surface.”
“My kind of thinking.”
She laughed. “Of course it is. You’re a guy.”
He gave a little thrust. “No point in denying it.”
Her legs unlocked at his waist. A small sound of protest escaped her when his cock slid free.
She rubbed her mouth against his. “That cleared my head.”
“It left mine empty.”
“Are we talking about the big head or the little head? Hard to tell the difference.”
He grinned. “Oh man, dissin’ me again. At least admit it was great sex that cleared your head.”
“Definitely great sex.”
Her lips parted his. Her tongue slid into his mouth and he felt it all the way down to his dick.
He leaned more heavily against her, gearing up for an encore.
His cell rang with Tyler’s tone.
They both moaned at the interruption, though his pulse sped and he was grateful he wasn’t still inside her, otherwise she’d have felt his physical response to the prospect of having Tyler join them.
He fished the phone out of his jeans, answered, “Yo.”
“Where are you?”
“My place. Just got here.”
“How’d it go?”
“Kind of heavy. We’ve got a new clue to figure out. You heading here?”
There was a heartbeat of silence. It lasted into a second one, causing Shane’s gut to hollow.
“I’m pulling into a drive-through,” Tyler finally said. “You want me to pick up burgers and fries for you two?”
Tyler’s voice sounded casual enough but…
Shane thought it was forced.
Or not. He couldn’t be sure. His head was too screwed-up when it came to Tyler. Truth, he didn’t have a clue whether Tyler was really okay with sharing Madison.
Shane rubbed the back of his neck. “Burgers and fries would be good.”
“See you in a few.”
Shane hung up, feeling like he no longer fit in his skin when he looked down at his naked body, the spent condom hanging on his softening cock.
“Tyler’s on his way with burgers and fries. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
He snagged his clothes and headed toward the bathroom to get his shit together before Tyler showed up.
Chapter Seven
Tyler parked in front of Shane’s house and willed his heartbeat to return to normal. While the three of them were together, he needed to treat Madison like a friend with benefits.
Project casual, comfortable.
He couldn’t let the need for it to be more lead to it actually becoming more, not with Shane there.
Their both touching and kissing Madison would too easily lead to the three of them naked, their hands and lips roaming, their bodies coming into contact in ways that would out his feelings for Shane.
He took a deep breath. Released it in a shuddering exhale.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
But when he joined Madison and Shane in the kitchen, he knew he’d underestimated how hard it was going to be to project casual and comfortable.
Shane was wearing a pouty I wanted more sex expression. While Madison’s gaze as she approached held the same uncertainty that’d been there when Shane showed up at his place after they’d had sex.
She reached him and said, “Hi.”
He shifted the take-out bag to prevent the burgers and fries from being smashed.
“Hi yourself,” he said, low-voiced, wanting her to know nothing was different between them, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.
Their eyes met, held in a reconnection, and then their mouths did, tongues touched, the awareness of Shane in the kitchen with them making Tyler’s nerves vibrate, alternating between the fear that Shane would close the distance between them, and the desire for him to do just that.
The kiss deepened, extending into something well beyond a simple greeting. It became a promise, an invitation—a dare to be with her at the same time as Shane.
He rocked backward, retreating.
“So you’re with us for the rest of the day?” she said.
He fought against contemplating what would happen at the end of it.
“I’m free for the next few days.”
He unloaded the take-out bag on the kitchen table.
Shane’s laptop was already there, along with a selection of cold drinks and an envelope. “This is from the rental box?”
“Yeah,” Shane said, unwrapping a burger then grabbing the bottle of ketchup and creating a pool of red on the wrapper.
“Where was the box?”
Shane answered, “In The Castro.”
Tyler claimed the ketchup. “Wonder what that says about Bio-dad.”
“More interesting is what Bio-dad had to say about Madison.”
“What?” Tyler asked, creating his own dipping-pool of ketchup.
With the dramatic flair of a dealer, Shane picked up the envelope, tilting it and dumping its contents so they were spread out like the three cards of a Texas Hold’em flop.
Clue. Picture. Birth certificate.
FORGERY. Tyler’s stomach tightened. He set his burger down without taking a bite.
His eyes met Madison’s.
“It did a number on my head, for a few minutes. But I’m good now. I’m okay.”
Could she be?
He looked for tells but didn’t see any that contradicted her words.
