AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I moved my hand over her clit as I moved smoothly in and out, slow and steady. Until she was winding up, pulling me forward, gasping little sounds against my lips, but I wouldn’t kiss her. I said, “Tell me.”
“So good.” She clenched. I bit down, clenched my teeth. Rewarded her a little, and she started saying more with that raspy whisper. “So good, Daddy. So big. So—”
Then she fucked up. Big time. She said a name she was not supposed to say. “Ripley.”
I was glad Tituss was awake now. He needed to know she was trying to still manipulate us. I was glad we were going to share her with Apollo now. We were trying to make up for our mistake. Trying to give her the sex bonus, not what we paid her for, and she was…still a fucking succubus. Looking for any angle to work us to her advantage. Part of me…no. I did not like her like that. I just…didn’t hate her as much as I wanted to.
“Ripley?” he asked, and I could hear the tinge of hurt in the question. She jolted, and I smiled against her neck before pushing her forward, off of my dick and into the arms of the man she continued to hurt for no real reason other than it was convenient for her to do so.
“Just call her baby. She’ll melt…Popsicle.” I rolled out of that bed and left them to it.
Chapter Twenty
Tituss
Motherfucker. What the hell got him in a mood so fast? I had a feeling I knew since Harpy was not exactly moving back into my arms. Yeah, that stung to hear her call him by his actual name. Even the teachers called him Dane for a reason. When he had his son, he put Ripley Dane Manchester the Third, someday to be esquire, to sleep, so to speak. His son was the fourth, and they called him Rip, not Ripley.
Like me, Dane’s whole world got fucked up by fucking the wrong girl.
“Come here.” I tugged, and she didn’t move right away. “I’m not mad, Harpy. We share this with you. You’re happy, right?”
“Tituss.” Her voice was all tight and raspy. It was last night while we cleaned her up, and she did a great impersonation of a rag doll. We wore her out, but part of that was also due to actual work, the stress, and then the multiple orgasms.
“Come here, baby.” I snickered as I pulled, and she broke down into a bout of tears, and that confused me because Harpy had never really been a crier, so I felt like she was faking it. “It’s okay.”
I comforted her anyway. She might really cry when the lights came on, and she realized she had both bite marks and…well, our names on her. It was a marker and not on her forehead, so it shouldn’t be that big a deal.
It was a bit to provoke her. A bit because…lately, being with her, admitting that no amount of time would not be enough…I just…felt like a different man these days.
Too much shit, and once I realized Harpy was not innocent in any sense of that word, it became easier to push back. See the card before she played it. She was a natural hustler, and I had been hustled the moment I met her. I loved her. I hated her. And that was going to be my truth on the matter, so why resist it? I could do both and planned to for the next two, and a half years I was at this college.
Awake, aware of the fact that there was practice tonight, classes tomorrow, a game Friday, Dane’s kid all weekend…I moved my face closer and put my lips to hers. He did not get all that toothpaste out of her mouth. Well, at least the overpowering mint of her mouth would cloud any morning breath I might have. Not that I cared. Harpy and I had plenty of mornings together, and I never found her scent offensive. If she found mine that way, she never showed it.
She kissed me, moved into my arms easily. I pulled at her thigh, lifting it over my hip, and thanks to all his prep work, I slid right in as I said with a bit of a smile against her lips, “Come on, baby. Fuck me like you want me to make you breakfast this morning.”
She stiffened and then laughed, which did great things to her insides. She pushed at my shoulder, and I rolled back. Yeah. More sugar with honey. I whispered, “Damn. You really want that breakfast.”
She knew all my little tells and how I liked to be ridden, so I was going to take her to breakfast for damn sure because she earned that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Harpy
The rest of the week, I waited for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. After that crazy night, it was back to business. Only, Thursday night, a guest arrived as I was doing one more check to ensure that everything for Rip was ready.
“Excuse me.” The female voice startled me. I turned to see a real-life version of the Miranda character played by Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. “Is Ripley home?”
I nodded. I looked down and smiled at the handsome little boy beside her. He was shy, blushing, but waved. I said, “I’ll go get him.”
“I know where his room is.” She looked around the parts she could see of the house. “Who are you?”
“Rip!” Dane shouted, and the kid tore away from his grandma, who did not take her eyes off me. I did not take my eyes off her either. “I see you both met Harpy. She’s majoring in early childhood education. She will be babysitting while I am playing and staying here in the guest room, of course, to assist. Any questions?”
He moved, holding his son, to stand next to me. He looked at the clipboard and took it out of my hands and flashed it at her, and said, “See. We passed inspection.”
“I—” I didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t even hesitate to use that clipboard for popping me on the ass and said, “No.”
