Elements of Desire

by C. M. Stunich

  It was dark and masculine, possessive and sexy. But oh shit!

  "Sir, are you quite done putting on that diaper?" the flight attendant asked, and I could hear a distinctive jingling sound on the other side of the door. "Because by law, I'm now going to have to open this door to check on your safety …"

  Dustin pulled out of me and set me carefully on the floor, buttoning up his pants and turning just in time to meet the open door and the flight attendant's grimacing face.

  "We're all done, yeah?" he said, coughing into one tattooed hand and then flashing a grin that I caught in the reflection of the mirror. "Just give 'er a moment to, uh, get dressed."

  "Well, I will have to ask you to leave …" she hedged, and Dustin nodded, glancing over his shoulder at me with a wink.

  "I love ya, alright, ye lucky charm little shit," he said, and then he turned and left and I was stuck standing there buck naked and staring into the wide eyes of the flight attendant. Also, I had like … love juice to deal with. And also again, WHAT THE FUCK HAD DUSTIN JUST SAID? He loved me? No. Not possible, too soon.

  "I'll just … close the door," the woman whispered, stepping back and slamming it shut behind her.

  Great.

  Dusty got to saunter out of there fully-dressed with his dignity intact.

  Now I had to clean up his mess, put my clothes on, and walk the walk of shame.

  Thanks a lot, Gemma goddamn Darling.

  At least, I could hold onto the hope that she'd be getting off in L.A., right? Right?!

  Gemma ‘The Piece of Shit Man-Stealing Asshole Whore’ Darling—and also, I use whore in an ironic way since there's nothing wrong with being a sex worker if it's the woman's choice—did not get off in L.A.

  I ended up at the rental car counter with her standing behind me. Us. Standing behind us and probably checking out my husbands' asses.

  "She’s following us," I said with a sarcastic laugh. Reg reached over and tugged me close, rubbing my back in small circles. "There is no way that your mother and that bitch just happened to decide to visit Australia on the day of the wedding. Not a chance in fuck. And like, Brisbane? They just chose to fly into Brisbane on a coincidence?"

  "Nobody's doubting you," Reg whispered and then lifted his blonde head to continue in a much louder voice, "even if we've decided to cut Joan out of our lives completely for this stunt, that doesn't change the fact that she's a grown adult who's free to do as she pleases."

  "Nuh-uh," I said, crossing my arms under my tits and loving the way the black bandage dress highlighted their creamy goodness. Reg's blue eyes were locked on them; he couldn't look away. I smirked. "Stalking is illegal in almost every country on the planet. It's illegal in the USA and it's illegal here. Pretty sure it's not illegal in Nigeria, but we're not in Nigeria, now are we?"

  "Might as well be," Joan murmured as I flicked an enraged look over my shoulder. She sniffed derisively. "No wonder President Trump isn't a fan," she said and my eyes widened in shock.

  I pointed with a shaking finger.

  "You're a … Trump voter?" I choked out and Joan smiled.

  "Card-carrying republican since I was eighteen years old." I had to resist the urge to stumble over to a potted tree and puke. No wonder I'd hated the woman from moment one!

  "You know that wall is never getting built, right?" I said with a laugh, and she turned her nose up at me and glanced away. "I mean, we all hated Hillary, too, but come on. Get a grip on yourself."

  "I think President Trump is amazing," Gemma cooed, crossing her arms under her—thankfully much smaller than mine—breasts. "He's a businessman and he'll run our country like a business."

  "You mean pay minimum wage to mistreated workers until he lays them off and moves operations overseas to create cheaper, less quality products forged in sweatshops? Or do you mean by filing bankruptcy several times?"

  Gemma's perfectly painted mouth popped open to respond, but I turned back around to see Dustin finishing up with the woman at the counter.

  "We're renting a Tesla," he said with a big grin, "the SUV with seven seats."

  "Oh!” I said, genuinely excited. I'd always wanted a Tesla. "Thank fuck! Now we can get away from our stalkers in style."

  I snatched the keys from Dustin's hand, stuck my tongue out at Gemma—totally immature, but whatevs—and sauntered past her out to the parking lot. My hope was that we could leap into our ride and be out of there before they caught up with us. Couldn't exactly follow us if they didn't know where my mum lived, now could they?

  Oh, God, and with an SUV, I could actually finish, you know, consummating with my husbands! Eek! Well, maybe later considering after a whole day of travel, I smelt … less than good.

  How the fuck did Gemma look so perfect?! She'd spent the same amount of time crammed on an airplane as I had. Ugh. I seriously hated her with a passion I hadn't felt since … since I first met Joan!

  "Whoa, Sugar Tits." Reg grabbed me around the waist, distracting me while Billy snatched the keys from my hand. "No offense, babe, but your driving kinda blows."

  "He's trying ta say ye drive like an old lady, lucky charms," Dustin smirked, running his eyes over me as if I were naked. "Which is appropriate, given your glorious tits and that warm, wet fanny of yours."

  "Fucking excuse me?" I raged, placing my hands on my hips and glaring daggers at my Irish asshole. Like, my Irish asshole husband. I wasn't literally glaring at his asshole. "I will have you know that women of any age are proven to be safer drivers than men, despite our glorious tits and warm, wet fannies! Machismo prick." I flipped him off, but if I hadn’t known he was joking, I also would’ve castrated him.

  Alright, so I potentially could’ve said that quieter than the dull roar I’d just used, and based on the horrified gasps from several innocent bystanders, they seemed to agree. Whatever. Seriously, couldn’t they appreciate that one of my harem just said an incredibly sexist comment that I couldn't let slide? Besides, I was a great driver.

  "Sorry, Firebug." Billy shrugged and waved the keys out of reach for me. "I've gotta go with the boys on this one. I saw the scrapes on your hearse rims."

  My jaw dropped with indignation. "Because Reg can't park to fucking save himself. For someone so adept at squeezing big things into small places, you'd think he'd be able to park a hearse in a tight garage."

  "Nah, ST," Reg chuckled, throwing an arm over my shoulders as we followed Billy out to the cars. "That's Shane's specialty."

  Biting back a smile, I glanced over at Shane, then down to his … err … hearse, which I'd quite like to feel parked in my tight garage again soon. Damn, it felt like forever since I'd had a good old fuck-fest with my sexy plumber husbands. That quickie on the plane with Dustin had only served to whet my appetite for more.

  Yep, we were going to need to pull over on the side of the road somewhere for a solid gang-banging. Oh, don't get all judgy and high-horsey with me. It was better than doing it on my Mum's floral pink sofa bed with the squeaky springs, wasn't it?

  "Dibs on taking the back seat!" George yelled and I raised my eyebrows in surprise, I hadn't had him in my back seat before … oh wait. He meant in the car. The location of where he'd like to sit in the car. Got it.

  "Cool it, Pandora," I hissed to my throbbing cunt, and I could practically feel her salivating. It was a name I'd awarded her just recently, seeing as how once Reg and Shane had opened Pandora's box that day in my Gram's old bathroom, there had been no stuffing her closed again. But, boy we'd tried. Stuffing her, that was.

  "Did you just …" Warden squinted at me and I blinked at him innocently. "Smokey, babe, I could’ve sworn to pineapple rings that you just called your lady garden by a name."

  "What?" I chuckled like he was insane. "Don't be silly, Warden. Besides, it’s called a vagina, or a cunt, or a pussy. Never lady garden." I wrinkled my nose up at him and he looked confused.

  "I thought cunt and pussy made women like … squeamish? Did I miss a memo?" Poor man looked so genuinely confused
it made me snicker.

  "I'm taking those words back. They belong to us women and we shouldn't be afraid to use them in a positive way. Besides, what else am I supposed to call it? Poonanny?" I cringed even saying that word. Who the hell comes up with these things?

  George fell into step with us and gave me a gentle smile. "I personally like to think of yours as a flower. And I'm like a fucking hummingbird, gently licking the pollen from your petals and then dipping my long tongue deep into your pistil." He paused a moment to wink while I gaped at him in speechless horror. Pretty sure he was taking the piss with me, but still! "Also, we need to pay close attention to your stigma too, as that sticky knob is a vital part of any flowers’ structure."

  "Uh, oh my God, STAHP!" I wailed and laughed at the same time. Suffice it to say, I was at a bit at a loss for words. "George … um … that was simultaneously the most revolting and also the most arousing description of my vagina that I have ever heard."

  "Thanks, Blossom," he chuckled mischievously at me. “Thought you’d appreciate that.”

  "What about you?" I asked Reg, suddenly super curious as to what all my men had been mentally referring to Pandora as.

  "Drainpipe, leaky faucet, sinkhole, grease trap, O-ring—" He looked like he was gearing up to make quite a list, and they were all grubby plumbing innuendos I'd already used myself so I shushed him.

  We'd caught up to the guys who were standing beside a shiny black SUV and arguing with the Avis rental dude who looked sweaty as fuck in his red and white uniform with long pants and a shirt.

  "What's the problem?" I asked, squeezing between Billy and Dustin to smile at the dude who was holding a clipboard.

  "This piece of shite won’t tell us what sort of fuel this hunk of carbon fiber crap takes. He's playing silly beggars with us and I wil'na take it." Dustin was scowling at the harried looking rental car dude, who looked all of eighteen and annoyed as all hell. I didn't blame him

  "Dusty, you giant oaf. Have you never heard of Tesla before? They're electric cars … as in they run on electricity, not petrol." I flicked him in the forehead for good measure and he turned his enraged scowl onto me.

  "Well that's fecking stupid, isn’t it? Where the feck do we charge the damn thing out here in the arse end of the world, eh?" He gave me a smug grin like he was King Shit, but I just raised my brows and looked pointedly at Warden. Our energy elemental.

  It took a moment, but when the penny dropped, it was obvious. Dustin dropped eye contact with me like a hot potato and backed away a little while clearing his throat.

  "Thanks so much." I smiled sweetly to the Avis dude, but he just shrugged and shook his head.

  "Whatever, weirdos. Sign here." He held out his clipboard and Shane scrawled his signature onto it. "Thanks for choosing Avis. Have a safe journey." He flipped his cap around backwards and didn't spare us another glance as he headed back into his little cubicle office in the middle of the parking lot. Through the window, I could see he was watching the cricket. The Ashes must be on, because it looked like England vs Australia.

  Call me a bad Aussie, but I never really got into cricket. It just seemed so boring! The only part that seemed remotely fun were the crazy costumes people wore to spectate in, or the amount of booze which was socially acceptable to drink.

  "Guys, seriously?" I demanded as Billy climbed into the passenger side and then looked confused as to where the steering wheel was. "Come on, Billy doesn't even know which side of the car he's driving on!"

  "Good thing ye've got me then, eh leprechaun?" Dusty gave me a smarmy grin and snatched the car keys from Billy's hand as he sat there looking confused as all hell.

  "Actually," Shane smacked the keys from Dustin's hand then caught them before they hit the ground. "Your license lapsed last month. So, it wouldn't be legal to let you drive here."

  Without waiting for further arguments, Shane strode around the bonnet of the car and sat his fine ass down in the driver’s seat. A bonnet is a hood in America, but seeing as we were in Australia … Yeah, you see where I'm going with this.

  "Reg, chuck my bag in the boot, would you, hun?" I grinned, and nudged my suitcase toward him with my toe.

  "In that what?" He looked at me like I'd just started speaking French.

  "The boot, Reg. It's what Aussies call the trunk." I smirked at him, quite liking that I was the one in the know. Yeah bitches, you're on my turf now. "Now toss it in, and let’s get cracking. I want to stop at a servo on the way for a pie and hopefully to pick up some thongs and sunnies. I couldn't find any good ones before we left."

  My husbands all stared at me like I'd lost my damn mind and I chuckled to myself. I wasn't going to bother explaining that what I'd just said was please place my luggage in the trunk and let's make a move to depart this location. I would very much like to stop at a gas station to purchase a pastry pocket full of meat and gravy, and hopefully also purchase a pair of rubber summer shoes and sunglasses.

  Fuck 'em. They'd get the hang of it sooner or later.

  We all piled into the luxurious car and got comfy while Shane cautiously pulled out of the Avis parking lot and onto the motorway departing Brisbane airport. It felt like he’d barely merged into the motorway before he needed to slam on the brakes to avoid side-swiping a car as he drifted way out of his lane.

  "Seriously, you guys?" I screamed. "And I'm the bad driver?!"

  "Sorry, Darlin'," Shane called back to me, sounding guilty as all heck. "Just takes a bit of getting used to this side of the car."

  Rolling my eyes, I sat back with a huff. These stubborn ass males were going to get us all killed before we ever made it to my Mum's place!

  "Just relax, Smokey," Warden coaxed me, placing a hand on my knee and rubbing gently. "Sit back and enjoy the ride. We should get there in like an hour, right?"

  "An hour seven with no stops and good traffic, but I told my Mum we wouldn't arrive until dinnertime." I shrugged and gave my electric husband a sly smile.

  It took him a moment though. Wow, my guys were dense today. Maybe the altitude fucked with their brains? "But it's only midday now." He frowned. "Why would we need so much extra time … ohhhhh." It clicked for him and he returned my sultry grin. "Really, Mrs. Cornwall? You're that eager, huh?"

  "You're Mr. Smoke, sweetheart," I corrected him as I had Dustin, and patted him on the cheek. "And hell freaking yes, I am! I just had to suffer through an entire flight with your crazy ex-girlfriend and psychotic mother. On our wedding day. I will be damned if I have to deal with my own mother before I get each and every one of your dicks in me in some shape or form. Clear?"

  Warden's eyes were wide and I heard him mutter under his breath. "Motherfucking cocksucker son of a bitch, yes."

  "Just how bad is your mother, Firebug?" Billy asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I just shrugged.

  "You'll see," I replied in my most cryptic way possible. "But trust me when I say, you'll want to be as relaxed as possible."

  After I was certain Shane wasn't going to kill us all in a horrible fiery explosion, I crawled into the back row, tumbling over Warden and Dustin and flashing my wet panties as I went. I ended up sprawling into Reg's and George's laps.

  "Sorry," I mumbled, but they didn't look at all sorry to have me lying across them, my breasts just barely contained in the bandage dress as it inched its way up my thighs.

  "No apologies necessary, Blossom," George purred, reaching up to brush some hair off my sticky forehead. Yep. Even with the AC blasting, that short stint in the heat had started me melting. What little makeup I had on was running down my face, and my carefully coiffed do was starting to fall apart, chunky hairspray covered pieces flouncing around as I struggled to find my toiletries bag behind the seat.

  Fucking Gemma with her perfect makeup and perfect hair and unwrinkled clothes, I grumbled to myself. The only reason I stopped my inner ranting monologue was because both Reg and George started copping feels on my ass.

  "That's distracting, you know?" I told
them as I finally found the correct bag and yanked it over the seat. If I was going to, um, make my marriages official, then I was going to need to freshen up first. Thank the universe for wet wipes, dry shampoo, and travel mirrors.

  "That's sort of the point, Sugar Tits," Reg whispered, his blonde hair perfect, his face distinctly not melting the way mine was. And I knew for a fact that Britt had touched the boys up with a bit of foundation and a touch of eyeliner before the wedding.

  Speaking of …

  "I need to call Britt and Siobh—" I started and then felt my stomach drop, my heart stutter. No. No, Siobhan … I missed my slutty winged bestie. Sniffling, I leaned down and unzipped my bag, doing my best to hide my sudden rush of tears from my new hubbies.

  "Hey," George said, leaning down next to me. Reaching out those bronzed fingers of his, he made pulling back a dirty hairspray crusted hunk of hair seem sexy. He even tucked it gently behind my ear. "Are you okay, honey?"

  "I'm …" I started to say and then … oh fuck, my face was getting all squinched up. "I miss my best friend," I whispered as George carefully pulled me back up and tucked me in against the warmth of his side. I had the wet wipes already clutched in my hands, so I tore the package open and started to wipe the dripping makeup from my face. "I miss Siobhan."

  Dustin stiffened up in the seat in front of me, and then carefully turned around to look at my face. Kind of the last thing I wanted him to do, considering my face looked like a Salvador Dalí painting.

  "Do you think she's really evil?" I asked as he pinched his mouth tight, those green eyes hardening in that handsome face. "Because, I know what I saw, but I also know the girl who bought me my first butt plug—"

  "That's a really weird thing to say," Reg mumbled, rubbing at his chin with tattooed knuckles.

  "The girl who took me out dancing when all I wanted to do was lie on the couch. She saved me in a lot of ways, turned my twenties into something fun when I could've wasted them on tragedy. She can't be evil."