Trading with the Boys: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

  Cole caught my eye for a second, his expression one of euphoric delirium. He mouthed a single word: Switch?

  I shook my head and kept bouncing into her. I had other plans. There was no way I was giving up this end of her. Not until I’d had my fill.

  My friend looked both relieved and grateful, then lolled his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. A second or two later his hands rolled into fists, squeezing two big handfuls of Serena’s hair. A split-second after that, he was coming straight down her throat.

  Holy shit…

  It was unimaginably hot from this angle, watching him fill her mouth with his cream. Serena took it all, still moving slowly up and down as she swallowed every last drop of him. Her lips were locked tightly around Cole as she whimpered adorably, finishing him off. Then her whole body shook and convulsed, and I could feel her contractions begin so way up deep inside.

  Yes, baby YES.

  Serena came hard, squeezing me from the inside as she cried out against the inside of Cole’s thigh. The sight of it was too hot. The sounds, way too fucking sexy for me to even attempt to maintain control.

  A few strokes later my vision went blurry, and then I was shooting inside her.

  “Fuuuuuck!”

  Again and again I bucked into her, pumping her full of my seed. Serena moaned throughout while Cole held her tightly, in a series of whimpers and gasps that drove me absolutely wild.

  Spent and empty, I finally withdrew. Her fantastic thighs quivered and shook, her back arched, her perfect ass still rounded and pointing my way. She looked the same as she did when I first entered the bedroom, only now her beautiful pink entrance glistened wetly with a pearlescent bead of my come.

  I couldn’t resist bringing my palm down, and smacking that ass hard with one big hand.

  “Now I’m ready for that shower!” I boomed lustily.

  Thirty-Seven

  SERENA

  They say success begets more success, and that couldn’t be more true for my little side business. And that’s because the bride and groom were so happy with the proofs I provided from their wedding, that they’d already recommended me to three of their friends.

  Two of them were weddings, due to take place within the year. Another was a maternity shoot, which I’d gotten based off the portfolio of a previous one I’d done for a friend of mine, which was up on my website.

  And yes, I had a website now. It wasn’t the best one in the world, but I’d scraped together enough money to register my own URL and hire someone to do a few rudimentary webpages that introduced myself, gave my contact information, and of course displayed examples of my work.

  Another week went by, and Cole moved in. Having him in the basement was handy, not only for the company but for little emergencies like the water company shutting off service to the house. Within five minutes he’d pulled a tool from his truck — some sort of long staff, with a handle at the end — and used it to turn the water main back on at the street.

  “That should buy you another month or two,” he’d chuckled, “before they figure out what happened.”

  I’d hugged him and given his ass a promising squeeze, before heading back into the house to go over the bills. And yes, the bills sucked. Eventually I’d get income from having Cole in the basement, but not for several months. Until then I’d be moving money around and backdating checks — an old trick my mother had taught me. Anything I could do to keep the lights, the heat, and the cable TV on — in that order.

  Down at the restaurant I asked for more hours, and despite consistently paying me overtime the management accommodated me with an extra shift. Most of my take home pay was cash tips anyway, so it wasn’t cutting too far into their bottom line.

  Besides, I was a kickass server. Probably even the best they had. I was both proud and angry at the title, because while it meant I took my job seriously and was good at what I did, it also meant I’d probably been there for too long.

  Way, way too long.

  I thought back to the origins of my position, back when I was married to Eric. I’d taken the job as a temporary measure, to make some additional money at a time when my husband was just becoming successful. It hadn’t been a career choice. It wasn’t something I expected to do anywhere near this long.

  And now here you are.

  I tried to look on the bright side: at least I was working toward something else. And I was happier than I’d been in years. I’d improved the house in more ways than one, and I’d improved my romantic life by a factor of a thousand.

  There was barely a moment that went by when I wasn’t thinking of the boys. I thought about Tate’s smoldering green eyes and big arms, or Jacob’s tan, sun-bronzed stomach. I thought about all the dirty things Cole and I had done in the basement so far, and how many times he’d come upstairs without knocking. Sometimes he just came to say goodbye before work. To take hold of me with those impossibly strong hands, and kiss me until my panties were drenched through.

  Other times though, I thought about our future together. That part was murky, because as amazing as things were between us, I just couldn’t see the situation going on forever. One or more of the guys would inevitably want a real relationship; a one-on-one with a girlfriend they could build a future with. Someone they didn’t have to share with their friends, as fun as they could actually be.

  I could lose one or two of them. I could lose all of them…

  “Serena!”

  I looked down and realized my hand was covered in Diet Pepsi. I’d been holding the same glass against the soda machine for at least twenty seconds.

  “Sorry!” I apologized to the busboy who’d invariably have to clean up my mess. The foamy liquid had run down my hand, dripped off my wrist. It formed a small pool in front of the beverage area, which would have to be mopped up.

  But yes, it hurt to think about the end game. What we had right now was amazing, and seemed to make all four of us happy. But the operative words there were obvious: right now.

  An hour and a half later the last of the customers had packed it in, and the tables had all been wiped down. I split off the busboy portion of my tips and changed out the bills at the register for larger ones. After saying my goodbyes, I reached for my phone — only to have it suddenly go off in my hand.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey sexy.” Tate’s voice was as deep and sexy as always, but there was a playfulness to it also. “You done?”

  “Just finished,” I said happily.

  “Did you call your Uber yet?”

  “No,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “But I was just about to—”

  “Look outside.”

  I froze for a second, then turned in the direction of the reception area. A half dozen steps brought me to the glass double doors. And just beyond them, parked at the curb…

  “NO WAY!”

  I flung open the doors and ran outside. The sleek red Pontiac GTO was idling noisily at the curb. It sounded hungry, like a wild animal begging to be fed. Smiling from ear to ear, Tate looked back at me through the open passenger window and revved the engine.

  “You might want to put the phone down,” he laughed in stereo. “And get your hot little ass in here.”

  Thirty-Eight

  SERENA

  The car devoured the road, thrumming along as the scenery beyond the windows raced by. It was dark, it was late, and I had no idea where we might be going. But I was thrilled to be going there, just the same.

  “I can’t believe it’s finally finished!” I cried again joyously, running my hand over every inch of the GTO’s interior. The bucket seats were soft and comfortable. Between us, the big stick of the shifter ended in a very unique knob: a shiny black 8-Ball.

  “You added that, didn’t you?”

  Tate smiled silently, leaning back into his seat as he put the car through its paces. He looked more than happy, he looked outright ecstatic. Maybe even more than I was.

  I shook my head, still in disbelief. I
had a car again! And not just any car, either.

  “This thing… it’s amazing.”

  “Sure fucking is,” said Tate, turning left down some darkened road. The car lurched as the transmission shifted it smoothly through its gears. “It’s the most badass thing I’ve ever worked on.”

  I turned, and the gorgeous mechanic looked hotter than ever. The muscles of his extended arm flexed with every slight turn of the wheel. In the light of the streetlamps, Tate’s green eyes smoldered.

  “Where are we going?”

  He smiled, and his look got even hotter. We’d been driving a while. I took his non-answer as all the answer I needed, then flipped the radio on as I grabbed his hand and slid my fingers between his.

  He’s the perfect man.

  He was, really. Then again, so were all of them. I’d dated tall, dark and handsome before, but Tate was a man’s man. The kind who could fix anything when it broke, and always looked forward to getting his hands dirty.

  His look complimented Jacob’s, who was the blonder, more bronze-skinned equivalent of his friend and teammate. And then there was Cole, whose incredible hands matched his amazing smile. He could cause my heart to skip with just a look, and those hands could build anything he set his sharp mind to.

  Do you really think you’ll end up with any of them?

  It was a nagging question, but not a strange one. The age difference wasn’t something I could ignore. I had a whole decade on them. Having turned thirty-one I’d already had my twenties, and was probably looking forward to different things than they were. I wanted to settle down again, with someone I loved. A best friend, a lover, a partner.

  I wanted a family…

  The car turned again then raced uphill, cutting its way through the darkness. Squeezing Tate’s hand, I pushed all other thoughts from my mind. I wanted to enjoy this moment, but moreover, I wanted him to enjoy it. He’d worked long and hard for this. Not to mention this vehicle was special in other ways, too. Mostly because it was the origin of us getting together.

  “Listen to that RAM four,” Tate swore, more to himself than to me. “Son of a bitch, it’s beautiful.”

  “What’s a RAM four?”

  “Your upgraded engine,” said Tate. “Four-hundred horsepower. This thing could do anything,” he said. “It could go anywhere…”

  He zig-zagged through another series of shadowy side roads, then emerged into a smooth, paved area atop a jagged cliff. It was a place I didn’t recognize. I’d never been here, or seen it, or—

  “Phalen Memorial Park,” said Tate, swinging the car around. “Best view in about fifty miles.”

  The place was empty, except for one or two other cars. We swung past them and kept going, cruising all the way into the last parking spot at the very end. Once there Tate kept the engine running, and the radio low. The warm air from the vents felt soothing as it washed over us.

  “My ex-husband was insane to leave this thing behind,” I murmured.

  Tate smiled. Reaching out, he swept my hair back gingerly.

  “He left you behind,” he said gently. “And that makes him batshit crazy.”

  I felt flush, either from the car’s heater or just blushing from the compliment. The view through the windshield was picture perfect. Three different townships lay spread out beneath us, their twinkling lights a rolling ocean of glimmering jewels.

  “What did Jacob and Cole say when you rolled this thing out of the garage?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he answered. “I wanted you to be the first to see her.”

  I felt humbled. Grateful. Happy.

  “Thank you,” I choked. “You really don’t know how much this means.”

  Somehow though, I thought he did.

  The interior of the car was a silent world of leather and plastic and steel. It was just the two of us now, and the electricity that existed between us. I couldn’t wait any longer. I closed the distance and kissed him.

  Damn

  Something about the isolation of where we were enhanced the moment. Maybe it was the closeness of our bodies. The way the car already smelled like him, which was a very, very good thing.

  Our kisses spun outward, turning up the heat as we melded into one another. Tate’s hand crawled beneath my work skirt. I felt his fingers traveling up my thigh as our hands went to familiar places.

  “Nope…”

  I pushed his hand away, playfully. The look on his face was priceless.

  “What?” he mused. “I can’t have that?”

  “You can have anything you want,” I said breathlessly, “and you damn well know it. But right now, right here… it’s high time I took care of you.”

  Reaching over, I unbuttoned and unzipped him. With a little help from the shift of his hips, I reached into his boxers and pulled his beautiful cock free.

  “How many man-hours would you say it took to put this thing back together?” I asked, staring at it.

  Tate let out a slow hiss of satisfaction as my hand traveled up and down his stiffening length.

  “I really have no idea,” he sighed finally. “Why?”

  I licked my lips and stared back at him seductively. “Because you’re about to get paid,” I told him. “And this is just one of many, many such payments.”

  Without another word I leaned into his lap and swallowed him to the root. I could taste the musky sweetness of him already, pressing against the back of my throat.

  “Oh really?” he somehow managed to sigh.

  I nodded in his lap, mumbling around his hard-on. “Yes. Really.”

  Slowly but surely his body relaxed. I felt his hand glide over the back of my head, guiding me up and down as I worked on giving him the best blowjob of his life.

  “Gotta take care of your mechanic,” I winked at him during a slight pause in the action. “Especially if your mechanic’s taken such good care of you.”

  Thirty-Nine

  SERENA

  “Serena! Can you come in here? We need you for something.”

  I licked my finger, tasting the Alfredo sauce. It was still thin. It needed more parmesan.

  “Is it gonna be the same as last time?” I called back smarmily, “where the two of you bent me over the couch and pulled my panties to the side?”

  “No,” Cole called back. “But come to think of it, that’s not entirely out of the question.”

  I sprinkled more cheese into the mixture, remembering fondly. “Good,” I chuckled into the empty kitchen. “Because I really liked that.”

  Turning the burner to simmer, I made my way to them. The guys weren’t in the living room, their voices were coming from somewhere down the hallway.

  “Where are you?”

  “In here.”

  I wandered into the last room on the left, empty except for a few small boxes of my things. The walls were still lime green. Unblemished. Unscratched.

  “First things first,” said Jacob, his hands on his hips. “The gas company turned off your service today.”

  My eyebrows narrowed in confusion. “Then how am I still using the stove?”

  “Because I turned it back on,” said Cole, “right after they left. I cut through that shitty wire lock they slapped on. Same as the one on the electrical meter.”

  “You can do that?”

  “You’re not supposed to do that,” said Cole, “but yes, you can. What you’re supposed to do is pay the bill.”

  I nodded, a little bit embarrassed, a little bit aggravated they’d called me in here just to tell me that. But they weren’t done.

  “The cable’s out too,” said Jacob. “I checked, and they cut it off at the street.”

  “Then we’ll watch movies,” I countered quickly. “Eric left a collection of DVDs behind, and I think there’s a player somewh—”

  “Or you could just listen to us,” said Cole calmly. He countered my frustration with a friendly, non-placating smile. “Please.”

  I sighed and nodded, realizing I was being a little too hard. I
t wasn’t their fault I couldn’t pay the bills. If I was frustrated at anyone, it should be myself.

  “We’ve got a proposition for you,” said Jacob. “Before we tell you what it is, know that you can totally say no. We’ll both understand. Neither one of us will be offended.”

  The cryptic way they were talking had me suddenly nervous. I started looking for somewhere to sit, but there was nothing. Tate would be home soon. And dinner wasn’t ready.

  “Guys, I was just—”

  “What if we moved in here,” interrupted Cole, matter-of-factly. He jerked his thumb back and forth between himself and his friend. “The two of us.”

  I looked back at Cole uncertainly. “But you already live here,” I pointed out.

  “I live in the basement yes,” Cole went on. “But I’m up here most of the time, and the basement’s really nice now. Nice enough that you could rent it for a pretty big chunk of money.”

  My eyes narrowed. Jacob cleared his throat.

  “You already know my living situation,” said Jacob. “Sharing the off-campus apartment sucks, and I’m out of there by the end of the semester anyway. I thought I could come here,” he said, pointing at the floor. “I could rent this room from you, and Cole could rent the one next door.”

  “You mean David’s old room?”

  Cole shrugged. “Whatever.”

  I was at a loss for words. “You’d really want that?”

  “Sure,” the two of them said together. They glanced at each other, then Cole spoke alone. “The question is do you want that?”

  Roommates. The thought had never occurred to me. The house had four bedrooms, and I was using one for an office. That left two empty, and here were two perfectly viable tenants.

  “What about Tate?”

  “Tate’s got his own place,” said Cole, “and he’s locked into a lease for the rest of the year. He’ll obviously be over here, though. He just won’t have a bed.”