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“Unnggghhh!”
Andrea clutched me against her, nearly suffocating me as I pumped her full of my come. It ran out all over us, there was just so much of it. So much already there, as I surged and spurted and added my own hot load.
“God…” she swore, looking down. Her tummy quivered. Her entire body was shaking with adrenaline. There was come seeping out of her pussy, all around my throbbing shaft. And I was still hard. Still buried inside her…
“Love you,” she whispered, taking my face in her hands. She leaned forward kissed me before I could react. Before I could say anything, because I was still in shock.
You love her also.
I did. Somehow. Some way, on some level, it had actually happened.
I waited until the kiss was broken. Until we’d collapsed sideways into the bed, holding each other, our foreheads touching. I waited until her sapphire eyes were locked on mine, and I could see the swirl of conflicting emotions battling it out, somewhere deep within the forest of her mind.
Then my mouth formed the same words she had.
And I told her too.
Forty-Two
ANDREA
Over three weeks. That’s how long we waited. That’s how long we spent cooped up in our little villa on the mountain, playing house together, waiting for a shot at Xander Kyrkos.
It was nerve-wracking. Even maddening, at times. There was so much on the line. So much in the way of anxiety and tension.
And yet they were still three of the best weeks of my life.
First, we were together. All four of us, at least in turns. There was never a repeat of that night — of me, wrapped up hotly with all three of my lovers together. But that was only because one of the guys was always missing. Someone was constantly positioned up on the ridge, manning the sniper point, at all times.
They took turns up there watching for Kyrkos, day and night, hot or cold, rain or shine.
At home, they took turns on me.
It was incredible, hopping from bed to bed. Alternating sleeping with one or more of them, always waking in a new place, a different man’s arms.
What I couldn’t contribute in vigilance, I managed in every other way. I took good care of my boys. I made sure the house was kept, the fire stoked, the water heater in the back of the house always primed and ready for showers. Marcus and I chopped most of the firewood together. I prepared meals with Holden, who seemed to enjoy cooking more than any other chore. Randall had a penchant for cleaning; whenever he wasn’t on the ridge, the place was always spotless. It was just like it had been in the gym. He’d traded his restlessness for something constructive.
And at night…
At night I warmed their beds. Or they warmed mine. In retrospect I didn’t really have a bedroom, I simply slept with someone else, or napped in whichever room was unoccupied by whoever was spotting the ridge.
Sexually, all bets were off. All pretense at modesty had gone out the window that first wild night. The guys took me anywhere and everywhere the mood struck, and I was always more than willing. Sometimes two of them would gang up on me. They’d strip me down and ravage me together, leaving me breathless and spent and happy.
As the days wore on, I started taking the initiative as well. I jumped Randall at least three times in the shower, which had become sort of our thing. Holden and I stayed up later than most, and I enjoyed letting myself into his room and climbing naked into bed with him. It didn’t matter what time it was, or how long of a day it had been. He was always awake… and always ready.
As for Marcus, we did a lot of things outdoors. We went on long walks together, and they usually ended up the same way: with me bent over in front of him, or screwed so hard into the ground my ass left heart-shaped impressions in the grass. Once he fucked me hotly up against a tree, one leg pinned high over his shoulder. On that one I wasn’t sure which was more impressive: the testament to his stamina, or the one to my growing flexibility.
But as sexually sated as we all were, there were boring times too. The long days of waiting wound on and on. The nights — when we weren’t sipping drinks or playing games — sometimes dragged.
The worst part was looking out over the town below. There was a whole bustling city beneath us; a living, breathing town filled with people and places and fun things. A town teeming with life and excitement, by day as well as by night.
Even harder to accept: it was achingly, tantalizingly close.
I couldn’t count the number of times I’d begged Holden to let me do another shopping run. I’d even tried bribing him… in some of the most wicked of all possible ways. But no matter what dark deeds I promised him, he always said no. He stayed strong, even in the face of promises of unfathomable pleasure. Or at least, me pulling out all the stops and employing every sexual trick under my hat.
In the end it was temptation that got the best of me. Or should I say, best of ‘us’… because it was Randall who shook me gently awake, late one night.
“Shhhh…” he whispered, one finger over his mouth. He was fully clothed, boots and everything. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I knew right away what he wasn’t after.
