Michael

by Marilize Roos

  She tipped her sunglasses down her nose and peered at him over the edge. “I think it might be time to rub some more sunblock into that leg of yours,” she said. “We wouldn’t want you to burn.”

  Michael glanced down at his new black and blue board-shorts, a gift from Tristan, and the single, hairy white leg visible beyond the hem. He’d removed his prosthesis for this pool party, not wanting to ruin it or deal with the chafing of a wet cuff on his stump, and his crutches lay beside his lounger. It still felt strange to appear in semi-public with only one leg, even though everyone here knew about the amputation, but after Judith and Tristan’s calm acceptance of it, he was feeling less self-conscious about it.

  Off to the side of the new patio, Tristan was standing at the new built-in braai, talking with Gabriel. Each nursed a cold beer, while Tristan tended the meat on the grid.

  Michael had been pleased to hear that the school had settled out of court, and had accepted all of Tristan’s stipulations. He’d received a substantial monetary compensation, along with the assurance that his job was secure, and the school had committed to printing a retraction in each publication that had printed libellous articles about him to set the record straight.

  Tristan had declined an interview with a televised journalism program. He’d declared that he didn’t want to intrude upon Edie’s family’s privacy, and Michael couldn’t be prouder of him.

  Hennessey had had his own disciplinary hearing to deal with. The Governing Body had found him guilty of misconduct, and considering the money he’d cost the school in settling with Tristan, as well as the public embarrassment to the school, he finally resigned as headmaster. At least Tristan wouldn’t have to work with him anymore.

  A shrill whistle sounded from the braai, and Judith looked in her husband’s direction. “That’s my cue,” she muttered. “He needs something to put the cooked meat in.” She stood, adjusting her green and gold sarong around her curvy hips. She headed towards her husband and even from where Michael was sitting he could see the love in Tristan’s eyes when he looked at her.

  “You know, I thought your sister would be here,” Derek dropped down beside him in Judith’s vacated seat.

  “I’d give up if I were you,” Michael pulled his attention away from his two lovers. “You know it won’t work. Even if you do have some chemistry, you’re both Dominants, you’re both too stubborn, and you’d be fighting to top the entire time.”

  “Never give up, never surrender,” Derek toasted with Judith’s abandoned cola.

  “I hardly think this is what Churchill meant,” Michael said.

  “Not Churchill – Buzz Lightyear,” Derek grinned.

  “Figures,” Michael laughed. Derek was a stunt man, and one would have thought that he’d be into action movies – who’d have thought that his tastes ran more to children’s animation instead?

  At that moment, Ariel strutted onto the patio, wearing a teal designer swimsuit, along with a diaphanous turquoise, blue and teal cover-up that swirled around her hips and thighs as she walked and showed off about a mile of toned leg. She paused at the edge of the patio to deposit her salad bowl on the table along with all the other salads, then headed for the braai to hug Gabriel and speak with Judith. “To infinity, and beyond,” Derek murmured and heaved himself upright from the lounger.

  “Careful, she bites,” Michael called out to his best friend, and Derek just flashed him a grin over his shoulder.

  Tristan unloaded the grid into the stainless steel container that Judith was holding, and when he was done, he swallowed the last of his beer and headed for Michael.

  “We’re ready to eat,” he grinned, stopping before Michael’s seat and blocking out the sun with his silhouette. He offered Michael a hand, and once Michael had his foot secure on the ground, his crutches in one hand, Tristan pulled him up to stand. Tristan slipped his arm around Michael’s waist while he threaded his arms through his crutches, copping a feel of Michael’s ass for good measure.

  “Hey,” Michael growled playfully, but Tristan grinned, unrepentant, and stole a kiss. “Come on, babe,” Tristan said. “Let’s eat.”

  ~*~

  Judith wrapped the towel around her body and tucked the end of the towel into her cleavage. She rubbed the fog off the mirror in the bathroom with a facecloth and stared at her reflection, trying to sort through her roiling emotions. Elation, of course. Nerves. Love. Trepidation.

  Maybe I should just come out and say it.

  But how will Tristan feel?

  How will Michael react?

  This could bring us closer together.

  This could rip us apart.

  Damn it – I don’t want to hurt either of them!

  Blinking back tears, she took a fortifying breath and headed for their closet. Michael had had a built-in closet installed in the master bedroom that could hold all three their wardrobes. She flicked through the hangers until she found one of Tristan’s white button-up shirts, and slipped it on over her head. She buttoned it carefully, leaving the top four buttons undone to show her ample cleavage, and turned to inspect the effect in the mirror of her dressing table.

  She pinned her messy hair to the top of her head with a pair of chopsticks – Tristan loved to tug on those sticks and watch her hair fall down around her shoulders – and fastened the white-gold charm bracelet that Tristan and Michael had given her to celebrate becoming a trio around her wrist. When they’d given her the bracelet, there were just two charms hanging from it: a tiny white-gold tiara – Michael always called her ‘Princess’ – and a tiny white-gold heart with a pink crystal blinking off-centre because she was Tristan’s ‘Sweetheart’. The next day she’d gone to the jeweller and added a charm of her own – a tiny gold disk with her men’s initials engraved on either side.

  She grabbed the opened foil wrapper from the bathroom counter and padded down the stairs, following the sound of screams to the den.

  She paused in the doorway and took in her husband sprawled on the couch. His head was resting in Michael’s lap, and Michael was idly playing with Tristan’s hair. She felt like her heart would burst, seeing the two men she loved together on the couch, sharing the unlikely intimacy of a shared love of gory vampire movies. It was one interest she didn’t share with them.

  Michael looked up and noticed her standing at the doorway. “Princess?” He asked gently and turned the TV off. “Something wrong?”

  Tristan sat up too and looked slightly drowsy as he focused on her. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

  She almost chickened out and asked if they wanted coffee, as if that was the only reason she’d sought them out, but suddenly all she wanted was to be held, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Come here, Princess,” Michael said, and she padded into the room to sit on the coffee table. “Too far,” Michael said and took her hand to pull her into his lap, wrapping his arm around her waist. Tristan lifted her legs onto his lap and wrapped his hand around her calf. “That’s better. Now what’s on your mind?”

  “I… I have something to tell you,” Judith whispered. She looked down to her lap, crinkling the opened wrapper between her fingers. Tristan gently took the wrapper from her fingers and unpeeled it from the white plastic stick she’d pushed back inside. Judith looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Is this…” Tristan trailed off and stared at her with big eyes.

  Michael took the stick from him and glanced down at it. “Really? When?”

  “I just did,” she hiccupped, trying to keep herself together. “Take the test, I mean. I was talking to Caroline this afternoon at the party, and well, she should know, since she’s had two children, and she said perhaps I should take a test…”

  Judith stared at Tristan, because he would be the first to realize what the test meant, but he just laid a gentle hand on her belly. “I thought this would never happen,” he said softly. He looked at Michael. “You’re going to be a father.”

  Michael’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but t
here was a spark of excitement in his eyes. “No, we’re going to be fathers.”

  “You mean it?” Judith’s voice trembled. “I know this is unexpected, and I’m on the pill, although there was that day I dropped the dispenser and the pills were all over the bathroom counter; I must have put them back in the wrong order…”

  “Shh,” Michael shifted her on his lap so that she straddled him. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and stared into her eyes. “I’m beyond pleased, and you’ll be a wonderful mother.”

  Judith sniffed, then holding his face in her hands, she kissed him. When she broke the kiss, she looked over to her husband, and saw nothing but love for her.

  “I’m so happy,” Tristan whispered. “I didn’t want to pass on my genes – it doesn’t mean I didn’t mourn my unborn children when I had that vasectomy. Besides – how can I not love this child, when they’d be half you, and half Michael, the two people I love so much?”

  “A child can never have too much love,” Michael agreed.

  “You really mean it?” Judith’s voice wobbled. “You’re both happy?”

  “We’re happy,” Tristan smiled.

  “Ecstatic,” Michael agreed.

  Michael’s hands went to the buttons of her shirt and started slipping them out of the buttonholes, revealing her chest a few inches at a time. Tristan got up from the couch, leaving Michael to undress her. When all the buttons were undone, Michael pushed the crisp fabric off her shoulders, letting it flutter to the ground and leaving Judith sitting naked on his lap. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. He cupped her breasts, weighing them in his hands. “These are going to get even more beautiful later on in your pregnancy.” He brushed his thumbs over the nipples, and Judith gasped, closing her eyes at the sensation.

  When her eyes opened again, Michael’s eyes were gleaming. “Take out my cock,” he ordered softly, and ripples of pleasure shivered up and down Judith’s spine just at the sound of his voice.

  She slid off his lap, the better to undo his fly, and he surprized her by lifting his hips off the couch so that she could slide the jeans and his briefs completely off his hips. He peeled his tee off over his head and before he could even toss it aside, Judith had sucked the head of his dick into her mouth.

  He groaned and fisted his hand in the hair at her nape, not pulling, but holding. She slid sensuously up and down his shaft, casting her eyes up to him and teasing the sensitive ridge around the head with the edge of her lips until he halted her by his grip in her hair.

  “Come here,” he whispered, and she clambered up on his lap. He held his shaft steady for her with one hand, and she slowly impaled herself on him. He gripped the globes of her ass with his hands, holding her tight to his lap, and she rested her forehead on his.

  Tristan came back, wearing nothing but the military-style dog-tags with their names on it around his neck that Michael had given him, and stood behind Judith. He pulled on the chopsticks in her hair, letting the heavy mass tumble down around her shoulders, then took a fistful of hair to turn her head and hold her steady for his kiss. “I love you,” he murmured in her ear, then looked at Michael. “Both of you.”

  “I love you too,” Michael said and exchanged a heated look with Tristan over her shoulder. Tristan leaned over her to kiss Michael, sandwiching her tightly between the two hard chests.

  Giving Tristan a devilish grin, Michael shifted to the side so that he lay down on the length of the couch, with Judith on top. The movement jostled Michael’s cock inside her, sending more sparks of pleasure zinging through her body, and then Tristan crouched behind her.

  She heard the snick and slurp of lube, and knew what would come next. It was something they’d rarely done, keeping it for special occasions by some unspoken agreement. Occasions where they wanted to feel especially close.

  The gel felt cold when Tristan massaged it into her ring, taking special care to not only smear it along the surface, but also probe her with a slick finger to prepare her on the inside too. This was not her first time doing anal with either of them, but they always took such care with her comfort, while at the same time assuring her of their lust for her, she couldn’t imagine feeling more wanted or cherished. Soon Tristan took in his position behind her, and with a last passionate kiss, he eased into her.

  Full. So… full. Both men groaned when Tristan slid home, and Judith shifted, feeling them both inside her. Tristan pulled the curtain of her hair to the side to kiss her shoulder, and Michael filled his palms with her breasts.

  Her lovers started slow, alternating their thrusts so that she was never empty, and punctuating their loving with kisses and tender caresses. Both were so all-consuming, Judith could only hold still while they tended to her. Her pleasure kindled slowly, spreading through her until she felt she could melt, until eventually Tristan reached around her and grazed her clit with a finger and she bubbled over into the most satisfying climax of her life. Effortlessly, just like loving her men.

  She was still floating down from her own bliss when she felt Michael’s and Tristan’s answering climaxes. She opened her eyes, and saw that Tristan had reached down and taken Michael’s hands, pinning them to the couch on either side of Michael’s head with their fingers threaded through each other’s, and crushing her between their bodies.

  “I love you,” Tristan said. “Both of you. All three of you.”

  “Me too,” Michael whispered.

  Tristan caught her eye and gave an imperceptible nod, and Judith felt a smile stretch on her face. She saw the exact moment Michael noticed that the space between his and Tristan’s palms wasn’t empty, and Tristan pulled away to reveal a plain gold wedding band left behind in Michael’s palm.

  “What’s this?” Michael asked, holding up the simple gold band, but Judith could see that he knew – he just couldn’t believe it.

  “It’s a ring,” Judith said helpfully. “A wedding band.”

  “You know,” Tristan smirked. “It’s like a submissive’s collar, but for fingers.”

  Michael huffed an incredulous chuckle, but couldn’t stop staring at the ring. “It shows you belong to us, and we belong to you,” Judith said softly. She glanced at Tristan over her shoulder. His cock had already softened and slid out of her, and he knelt beside Michael.

  “If you agree, Judith and I would both consider ourselves as married to you as we are to each other,” Tristan said softly.

  “Until death do us part,” Judith whispered.

  “We can try to have this marriage recognized by the court under the Customary Marriages Act,” Tristan said. “It involves a pre-nuptial contract and approval by the high court, but the chances of it being approved are slim, considering we’re not Bantu or Muslim, it isn’t customary in our culture, and the law actually stipulates one man with more than one wife… But if it isn’t recognized… screw them – we’d know.”

  “So do you?” Judith asked, “Do you want to be our husband?”

  Michael swallowed, his emotions swimming in his eyes. “Yes – yes I want to be your husband. So much.”

  “Good,” Tristan grinned and made eye contact with Judith. He took the ring from Michael’s palm and held it up to her. “Do you want to do the honours?”

  “No,” Judith put her fingers over Tristan’s on the edge of the ring and brought it to Michael’s ring finger. “We do this like we do everything else; together.”

  ~*~

  The End.

  Sneak Preview of

  Ariel

  Book Two in the

  Club Angelus

  Series

  Two Dominants fighting to top; who will surrender first?

  Ariel McIan, owner of Club Angelus, will never allow a man to control her; Derek is wasting his time, but the man is beyond persistent. Even her status as his best friend’s sister hasn’t scared him off.

  Then one night he goads her into accepting an outrageous bet: They’ll each submit to the other; Derek first, and if he lasts a week as her submissive, they’ll
switch for week two.

  Dommes don’t submit… do they?

  Prologue

  3 Years ago

  “You don’t have to see me all the way to the door, you know,” Ariel McIan sniffed, rifling through her bunch of keys and searching for the one that would unlock her front door. She muttered a curse as she fumbled and dropped the keys. She crouched to feel around for them in the dark.

  God, I feel so numb, she thought, feeling along the edge of her doormat.

  “Of course I do,” Derek said gently, stooping beside her. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t ensure you got home safely? My mama would have a fit.” He was the first to lay his hands on the bunch of keys and he stood, turning so that the floodlight from the parking lot between her home and Angelus could light the tangled mess of metal in his hand.

  “You could have stayed in your bakkie and watched me from the parking lot,” she nodded at his metallic blue Hilux parked under the floodlight.

  “Absolutely not.” He inserted the key to the lock and opened the door, reaching in to switch on the light before stepping aside to let Ariel in. “Your brother would kick my ass if I did that.”

  Ariel’s lips twitched up at the statement, but then reality paralysed her with grief. Michael wouldn’t be kicking anything anytime soon. Sobs tore from her throat, until it felt like she would throw up, and she felt strong arms around her, supporting her and holding her to his chest. She leaned into him, clutching at his dark grey Henley, burying her face in his chest, and one of his hands came up behind her to cradle the back of her head. “No one is more conscious of motorbike safety than Michael,” she gasped. “It’s not like he’s a speed demon and takes chances – but one driver not watching where he’s going, and he’s fighting for his life in ICU. It’s not fair!”