As I jabbed her in the chest, a little jolt zapped me on the finger like static electricity or something and I yanked my hand back in fright. What the hell was that?
I leaned in closer, looking for some explanation as to why I just got shocked, and right when I was about an inch from her cold and lifeless face … her eyes snapped open.
Startled, I screamed and jumped backwards, landing halfway on top of Billy and clinging onto him like a koala in a eucalyptus tree. Meanwhile, like something straight out of a horror flick, my recently deceased bio mom sat straight up and looked around like she was just waking up from a lovely nap.
What the actual shit is happening right now?!
"Guess Billy needs to learn how to take a pulse accurately," Shane murmured, and I heard the solid thunk of him getting hit by his … husband? … uh, his wife’s husband? What the fuck was the term for a man’s wife’s other husband? I remembered reading this reverse harem book about angels and ghosts called Spirited where the chick had them calling each other compeers. Since I was a super derp at times, I’d had to look it up. It means companion, soooo I guess that would work?
“Please don’t hit your compeer,” I growled back at them and got two really weird looks in response. Whatever. I guessed we’d deal with that later. Looking down at Bio Mom, I realized quite quickly that we’d have to restrain her so … I snatched the fuzzy purple handcuffs from the duffel bag Britt had sent and snapped her wrist to the bed before she was fully awake.
“What the hell?” she snapped as I prayed to whatever gods would listen—at this point, I had enough shit in my life that I wasn’t very picky about who responded—that I was right and that she was indeed not the metallic in the group. Bio Mom yanked on the handcuffs and then raised her left hand, summoning a ball of fire into it.
Oh.
Okay, well that answered that question.
“Oh, fuck that shit,” Billy said, yanking the power out of her hand with his own and then using his other to grab Shane’s. “Join hands again,” he snapped, and even though my hand still felt a bit greasy from the hippy dude’s palm, I snatch George’s up on one side and Warden’s on the other.
Billy did … something with the magic that sort of made him look constipated—but like a sexy constipated because come on, this was Billy here—but then he paused and the flames died away from his hand.
“Shit,” he growled out, yanking his grip from Shane’s and running his fingers through his hair as Bio Mom blinked stupidly back at us in shock. About what, I wasn’t sure, but apparently I was missing the memo because everyone looked fucking crestfallen.
“What?!” I asked, goose bumps prickling over my skin. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms as I looked around.
“I was going to make a collar of fire,” Billy snarled, dressed in a leather jacket that looked good on him but was way too fucking warm for the current weather. “Like the one from CUM that was all over Dustin’s neck.”
I stifled a laugh because although thinking about cum on Dustin’s neck was kinda funny, I could tell something else was seriously wrong.
“Why can’t—” I started and then realized why not. “Oh. Because we’re not connected anymore.”
“This is rich,” the Bio Mom said, teasing bits of flame on her fingertips and smirking at us. “You let your twin steal your men from you.”
“How the fuck do you know about that?” I snarled, and her eyes lit up like I’d just answered the question for her. Shit. I cursed and then reached out with my magic, grabbing her spirit and twisting it tight around my fingers. I probably looked stupid as hell doing the motion in midair, but it helped with the magic, something … I wasn’t so good at it. But I could get good and quick if it meant reclaiming my men.
“Your sister stole the spirit stone from us when she left!” Bio Mom growled out, choking as I yanked her spirit even further out of her body. She might’ve been powerful … but I was more so. Her lovers weren’t here; mine were unbound. I actually had the upper hand. “It’s obvious what’s happened here. Gemma wants to use your husbands against us to free her girlfriend!” The mom coughed and I paused, letting up slightly on the magic.
“What’s your name?” I asked, as we all stood in a half-circle, glaring down at her.
“Nevada,” she snarled and I raised an eyebrow.
Because, you know, Arizona … Nevada … two USA states crammed right up against one another. That was … coincidental.
“You think you can use magic to get me to do what you want?” Nevada snapped, smirking around at us, and then holding up the melted bits of the handcuffs. Britt was gonna be pissed.
“Actually,” Dustin said from her right side. “I don’a think we need magic at all.”
And then he punched her right in the face.
Having a rich as fuck husband was turning out to be pretty goddamn awesome.
Need to kidnap your biological mother and smuggle her out of Australia and into the USA? Hire a fancy private jet and get some ASS. And I don’t mean, like, booty. I mean like the Association of Silver Soldiers, a bunch of tough motherfucking Metallics for hire. We were escorted onto the plane—which was nicer than any house I’d ever been in minus Joan’s—and treated to champagne.
No Joan, no Gemma, no COCS or CUM.
Well, okay, so there were a lot of cocks and probably going to be a lot of cum, but for the moment, we were blessedly alone. And when I say alone, I mean surrounded by six quiet, stern-faced and silent ASS soldiers. Wait. ASS already had the word ‘solider’ in it. So just … surrounded by ASS then? Huh. As I looked around at my six husbands, I realized that was true on soooo many levels. Meanwhile, Nevada was trussed up on the toilet, bound and gagged. If any of us had to pee, we just asked an ASS to move her.
“You think your mom liked me best?” Reg asked, smirking and lounging in board shorts and a tank, his blue eyes shiny and his blonde hair all mussed up. “She sure clung to me when we were leaving …”
“Actually, Mom was feeling you up because she was still high and like, maybe on magic mushrooms.”
“Yeah, well,” Reg murmured as I sighed and leaned back in the seats. Some honeymoon. I mean, I’d had some good sex, and it was nice to be back in Australia, but … what the hell had I accomplished by bringing us all the way over here? It was almost like I was … running.
Yep.
Just like I’d done when Warden had told me he loved me, or after I’d first met the boys. Running away from my problems was something I was good at. I’d even used my mother and my honeymoon as an excuse to escape the issues plaguing my life … and those issues had followed me like Gram’s ghost.
Never again.
This time, I was going to go back and even if it was hard, I was going to face COCS. Heh. That was a good one. Get it? Hard? COCS?
“Pretty sure you were Bob’s favorite. Or Ben’s? Wait, what was that weird kid’s name?” Billy asked, lifting a charcoal brow.
“Kid?” I tipped the champagne to my lips as Shane dragged my feet into his lap, sitting in the seat facing me. He pulled my suede boot off and then my sock, rubbing his thumb along my arch as he very purposefully made sure to bump my heel against the hard bulge of his erection.
“Your mom’s fiancé,” Billy clarified and I snorted. Yeah, I didn’t see that working out long-term. Mom had a tendency to uh, work her way through men. “Fuck, if I can remember his name. He was a creepy little fucker.”
“Eh, he was harmless,” Warden said, lounging across two seats with his upper half more or less in Dustin’s lap. Dusty growled at him, but let my hubby—his compeer—sprawl all over him. It was beyond cute actually. I wanted my husbands to have relationships with one another, and why shouldn’t they? “If a little perverted. Swear to God, I saw him lick his lips when he saw George’s naked chest.”
“I don’t recall that,” George said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his … naked chest. Yeah, my earth elemental husband had issues keeping his shirt on. I liked him like tha
t, with that primal I’m-too-wild-to-be-contained-but-I’m-also-kind-of-nice vibe. “Besides, he’s going to be Arizona’s father-in-law; we should try to be nice.”
“Nice?” Shane drawled, giving me this droopy-eyed sort of look that said he wouldn’t mind meeting me in the bathroom for some alone time. That was, if Nevada the Bio Mom weren’t locked up in it. “We don’t know the meaning of the word nice, sug.”
“Oh please,” I said with a dramatic eyeroll, wiggling my toes to remind him he was nowhere near done with this massage. “You guys are kittens. You act all tough on the outside, but when it really comes down to it, you’re softies.”
“Is that because we said we loved you?” Warden asked, and I noticed Dustin, Shane, and Reg all perking up, eyes flicking in my direction. Between the three of them, I saw abject panic, frustration, and excitement all focused on me at the same time. It was a bit nerve wracking, to be honest.
“Let’s uh, talk about, what sort of wine we’re going to be drinking when we get home,” I choked out, because the thought of all that beautiful red in Gram’s cellar was the only thing keeping me totally sane here. I mean, my husbands were pretty awesome and all, but wine … I mean, it was a close race.
“Honeycomb,” Shane said softly, and I swear, if I heard another man tell me he loved me in this forty-eight hour time period, my head was going to explode. Besides, he’d already said it casually and in passing at the beach; I didn’t need to hear it again. I sucked down the last of my champagne and traded it out for the bottle sitting in a little bucket of ice on the table between us. Once I lifted that sucker to my lips and chugged, I felt a whole hell of a lot better. “You don’t want me to say it, do you?” he asked with a grin.
Feelings were not my thing. I mean, the other day … that lovemaking session … it was a fluke, I swear!
“Shane,” I warned, trying and failing to pull my foot away. He held onto it and rubbed his thumb along my arch, sending chills down my spine. It felt too good to fight. Instead, my cheeks blushed hot and I found myself fidgeting, clutching the bottle of champagne in tight fingers.
“Baby,” he said, letting that Southern drawl drip from his lips, his fingers kneading the flesh of my foot in such a sensual way that my breath caught and I felt liquid heat rushing between my thighs. “We’ve come a long way, ain’t we?”
“Stop that,” I said, but when I tried to pull my foot from his grip, he let go and shot up from his seat, scooping me into his arms as I squealed. I ended up back in my chair … but also on Shane’s lap. His erect cock was poking me in the ass, reminding me of all the sexual wonders we could be exploring in an effort to avoid …
“I love you, baby girl,” Shane whispered, putting his lips up to my ear and making me shiver. If I hadn’t been holding onto the champagne bottle, I probably would’ve keeled over and died right then and there. But, you know, strength from booze and all that.
“Can we please move on?” I whispered, but I got the awful sort of feeling … that maybe we weren’t going to. We were having … like emotions and shit. Sex was my go-to way to express my feelings, but with Nevada in the bathroom, and ASS everywhere (the soldier kind, not the cheek kind), I was afraid we were stuck being … like … chaste?
Chaste?!
What the fuck?! I didn’t know how to be chaste!
“And you know I love you, too, babe,” Reg offered, making sure to stand up from his seat and move over to me and Shane, peering into my face with this bright, eager, open expression that got me all choked up. In an effort to maintain my careful cucumber facade, I chugged down several long swallows of the champagne—that’s what she said—and almost choked on it. Also what she said. Eww. Okay, so I hoped a whole lot of shes weren’t saying that, but ya know, it happened. Especially with six husbands. “Your turn, Dusty!” Reg offered up, and my redheaded husband snorted.
“Fecking hell I’m sayin’ anything like that again,” he growled, pushing Warden off of him and crossing his arms over his chest. When I glanced over and our eyes met, something flashed through me, a promise of more … later. Not here in front of the other guys, not yet.
“How long is this plane ride?” I asked, as the L-word floated in the air around me. I swear to God, I could sense Cupid hiding somewhere on that fancy ass jet pointing a heart-tipped arrow right at my cunt. And also, like, my heart or something. I dunno. Whatever.
“We got hours, doll,” Shane purred, taking the champagne bottle from my hand and putting it aside. He encouraged me to turn and look at him, yanking my knee over his lap so that I was straddling the hardness of his cock.
"Shane," I giggled. Giggled? Fuck me, all those feelings made me loopy!
"Yes, Sugarplum?" he murmured, kissing down the line of my neck and slipping his hands under my shirt.
"The big ASS is watching us," I whispered. "Now, don't get me wrong, I am all for putting on a show for you guys but …"
"Say no more, Honeycomb, I'd rather not share you anyway." He paused. "Well, not with anyone other than these ass-wipes. I saw a little bedroom in the back."
I gasped dramatically. "Be still my beating heart! Lead the way!"
"Hey, where do you think yer goin'?" Dustin growled as Shane stood, lifting me with my legs still wrapped around his waist.
"To spend some time with my darlin' wife," Shane replied with steel in his voice, "Consider this payback for the drive to Tamborine Mountain. We'll make it loud, promise."
My other husbands all groaned and muttered curses, but no one objected, so Shane carried me through to the little room opposite the bathroom where my bio mom was locked up and lowered me onto the bed.
"Wow, you weren't kidding when you said a little bedroom," I muttered, looking around the room that was barely bigger than the airline toilet Dustin and I had fucked in on our wedding day. Remembering that now felt like it was years ago, not just a few days.
The bed took up the majority of the space, and was about the size of a queen. Far too small for a seven way orgy but plenty big enough for just Shane and me.
"So, lover." Shane grinned at me, reclining against the pillows with his arms under his head. "Are we getting naked?"
Wow, such romance. George really was the only nice guy in my little reverse harem.
"Hell yeah," I enthused, throwing my blouse off and wiggling out of my hippy-esque peasant skirt that I'd worn to make my mum happy. Hey, just because it wasn't the most romantic proposal in the world didn't mean I wasn't totally into it!
"Are you?" I prompted, tossing my bra and panties onto my pile of clothes and prowling up his body on all fours. If there was one thing being married to six insatiable horn-dogs had done for me, it was that I was now very comfortable in my own skin. "Or should I help?"
"It'd be mighty rude of me to turn down help from such a pretty lady," he drawled, giving me the most seriously sexy bedroom eyes and shifting his hard-ass dick in his jeans.
I grinned and licked my lips in response, sitting across his waist while my fingers worked the buttons of his shirt undone. Pushing it off his shoulders, I sucked in a breath of appreciation at the sight of his expansive ink. He was seriously a walking work of art … and not like a Picasso or anything weird like that. More like a … um … Degas? Nah, Shane was a Michael Stokes.
Hey, I was a former barista turned spirit elemental dragon … not a fine art major.
"Damn this is impressive," I murmured, tracing my hands over the colorful designs and following them to where they disappeared under his jeans. "Did it hurt?"
"Getting tattooed?" Shane quirked a brow at me, but his gaze was firmly on my naked tits. Like I said, not the nice guy in this crew of misfits.
"Getting your plunger tattooed," I clarified, and he smirked at me. My fingers had just managed to open his jeans and free the plunger in question, so maybe that smirk was in response to my cool hand wrapping firmly around his length.
"The hardest part," he informed me, bucking his hips up slightly and pushing his jeans down his legs to
kick off, "was staying hard. I can tell you now, darlin', it wouldn't have been such a challenge if I'd already met you."
My eyes widened in fascination. "You had to stay hard while they tattooed your dick? Damn … that's dedication. Billy probably would have been into it, huh?"
"Into it?" Shane laughed. "How do you think he ended up with those piercings? That was just while he was waiting for my tat to get done."
"Hmm," I hummed. "Maybe I need a closer look?"
Yeah, that was totally code for I'm going to suck your dick now, ya big stud. See, I was legit smooth as fuck, too. Wiggling myself into a better position—but leaving my ass up in the air because I was pretty sure that was way sexier than seeing me all awkward starfish across his legs—I licked up the length of his inked-up pipe wrench.
"Now this," Shane murmured as I took his tip in between my lips, "is the way to travel."
His fingers threaded into my hair—which was fine, it was totally a lost cause until Britt could get her hands on it again—and pushed himself further into my mouth. Yeah, like I needed to say it. Not the nice guy, remember?
Ah fuck it, who was I kidding? I was all for a little bit of dominance in my blow jobs, sometimes. Not like … rape-y dominance. That was one thing I was not down with. But a little bit of roughness was A-OK in my book!
Shane moaned as I sucked and licked at his cock, paying close attention to that little thread of tight skin on the underside of his head. You know, the one that seems to hold it all together and gets crazy sensitive? I had an ex-boyfriend once claim it was more sensitive than a woman's clit. I mean, clearly a load of shit. But ever since then I'd always given it a good flick with my tongue when I was going down.
Quick Fact: the clitoris has eight thousand nerve endings while the penis has four thousand. That’s all I’m saying. It’s science, not sexism!
“You like that, don’t you?” I whispered, pulling back slightly so I could breathe the words against Shane’s cock. Clearly, he was liking it and I so didn’t need to ask, but I was trying to dirty talk. Pretty much sucked at it, but it’s the thought that counts.
Elements of Desire Page 14
