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Gumby told Jazz the disturbing details of his childhood, giving her the same insight into his sexuality issues he’d given Screw.
Hell, he’d even opened up, sharing the challenges of growing up with a mother half the town had seen naked. Jazz had teared up over both their stories, hugging them close and murmuring all the right words of comfort.
Eventually, the conversation worked its way around to Jazmine.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked Jazz. He and Gumby lay side by side in the bed. Jazz was sideways, with her head on Gumby’s stomach and her legs draped across Screw’s abs.
“Sure.”
“Where is Paul now?”
Some of the light dimmed in her eyes. “He’s, uh, locked up in a psychiatric prison in Illinois.”
Screw shifted his gaze to Gumby. “Did you know this?”
With a nod, Gumby said, “Yeah. He attacked a woman in Chicago. It’ll be years before he’s out.”
“Good. Okay, that’s good.” Though it destroyed his ability to fuck the guy up. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet. “So he has no contact with you.”
Jazz looked away which made Gumby straighten. “He doesn’t contact you, right Jazz?”
“Jazz?” Screw asked. “What the fuck? Is he in touch with you?”
Shaking her head, she said, “No.” Then she ran a hand through her hair which was a mess from the afternoon’s activities. “Not directly, anyway. I have a virtual PO Box where my parents can send me letters or forward my mail. It’s received by a company who sends the mail to me here. Anyway, a few times Paul has sent a letter to the house for me and my step-dad forwarded them to me.”
“What the actual fuck?” If he hadn’t been pinned under her silky-smooth legs, Screw would have jumped off the bed to prowl the room. “What the hell is wrong with that man?”
The pizza in her stomach began to feel like a rock. “I don’t know. I’ve stopped asking that question where his son is concerned. Anyway. I read the first letter then haven’t opened any of the others. It’s not worth the stress and mental anguish it causes me. I save them in case…I don’t know. I just save them.”
In case he ever found her. She didn’t need to say the words out loud to have a shiver of dread racing down Screw’s spine.
Gumby grabbed one of her hands and kissed her palm. “That’s smart, Jazz. And I’m glad you don’t read them.”
“Can we talk about something else? I don’t want to bring down this afternoon. It’s been perfect.”
“Sure, babe,” Screw said, but his gaze met Gumby’s. They didn’t need words to be on the same page about this. As soon as this business with the CDMC was taken care of, they’d be moving on to Paul.
They shifted to easier topics, growing more playful by the minute. By the time their arousal grew, and they turned to each other once again, his head was full of thoughts he’d never experienced. Things like waking in the morning to hot kisses, blowjobs, breakfast in bed. Watching Jazz dress for work while he lounged a few extra minutes. Coming home to her or Gumby’s hungry kisses and searching hands. Watching them brush their teeth in his bathroom before falling into bed and losing themselves in each other.
Crazy thoughts.
After watching his lovers come for the third—or was it fourth—time that day, Screw lay on one side of Jazz with Gumby on the other. She passed out almost immediately, tucked warm and safe between them.
Gumby on the other hand, lay on his side, his curious and unapologetic gaze on him. He knew the other man had just as many rampant thoughts running through his head as Screw did.
Thoughts like how today might possibly have been the best day of his life.
And what the fuck was he supposed to about that?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE NEXT TWO days passed in a haze of what could only be described as bliss. Jazz spent every spare hour with Gumby and Screw. Sure, reality existed in the form of work for her and Screw, church for the guys, and Gumby spending time at the clubhouse tinkering with whoever’s car needed work. But both before and after those tasks, the time was theirs to do with as they pleased, and they spent it talking, touching, kissing…fucking.
And laughing.
Jazz hadn’t laughed so much in her whole life as she had the past two days. Their playful dynamic developed to its fullest the more time the three of them spent together.
Turned out Screw really enjoyed being naked, or nearly so. Around the house, be it hers or his, he was barely ever seen in anything more than boxer briefs. Gumby followed his example after the first day and before she knew it, Jazz was treated to a visual feast every time her eyes were open.
