Natalie Acres (25 page)

“Come on, baby. Get wild with me,” Mitch crooned, his body in a jackknife position.

Trixie’s hair fanned around her shoulders. She flattened her palms against his belly and rolled her hips faster, grinding against his groin as her body undulated with his.

Mitch placed his hand behind him, throwing his body into the act, pushing his cock deep inside her channel, a hot pussy Brock could almost feel clenching and closing around his own cock as well.

“Delicious torture,” Brock rasped, his prick pulsating in his jeans.

“That’s it, sub. Squeeze. Oh yeah, baby. Right like that. Um…”

“Fuck him,” Rory said, slapping the potholders on the counter.

Brock shot him a quick glance and was relieved to see the grin stamped upon his face. Rory wasn’t upset. He was enjoying himself as much as Brock liked viewing from the sidelines, too.

“Talk to me, sweet thing,” Mitch said, his expression twisting into one of pure, unbridled lust.

Trixie’s skin blushed. Her mouth fell open, but all she managed was a throaty moan, one that left the hairs on the back of Brock’s neck standing on end.

“More, baby.” Mitch grunted. “Let me get off with you. Give it to me, sweet thing. Pulse that sweet pussy around my cock. Let me feel that tight snatch working for me.”

“Oh my God!” she screamed, bucking like crazy as her orgasm left her shaking all over the place. “Oh my sweet, sweet Dom.”

She relaxed as her orgasm came and went. Mitch’s body went rigid. He jerked violently. His face tightened. His brows furrowed.

“Ah yeah,” he whispered. “That’s my baby. Ah yeah. Right there, sweet thing. Right fuckin’ there.”

“And so it ends,” Rory muttered, turning to the cabinets and grabbing a few dishes.

Brock snickered. He took the plates from Rory and set the table.

“Are you two rabbits about done over there?” Rory asked.

Mitch gathered Trixie in his arms and held her against his chest. Kissing the top of her head, he turned to them and said, “If you were in my place right now, would you be finished so soon?”

Brock winked at Trixie. “I’ve been married for how long? I’m just getting started. Ask her.”

“I love you,” she mouthed.

“I know,” he said aloud.

She tucked her hands under her chin and looked up at Mitch. “I love you, too.”

“I know,” Mitch whispered. “But I love you more.”

* * * *

“I’m starving,” Trixie announced when they returned to the kitchen after a twenty-minute shower.

“Took you long enough in there,” Rory said.

“Don’t pout.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you all the same.”

“You may need to prove that later.”

“I will,” she said, thinking she’d enjoy delivering on her promise.

She pulled out a barstool and sat down.

Brock immediately took her hand and yanked her to her feet. “Oh no you don’t, sub.”

“I don’t get to eat?” she asked, eyeing the multilayered casserole.

He grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and stripped it over her head. “Now. That’s much better.”

He bent down and nipped at a nipple. Shards of pure pleasure shot through her body and she jerked against him.

“So responsive,” Brock said, twisting her tight nipple between his finger and thumb. He hoisted her into his arms and positioned her in the middle of the bar.

“Brock,” she said evenly. “What are you doing?”

“What you wanted most. I’m giving you a taste of what life will be like if we give you more of what you say you’ve wanted all along, sub.”

She eyed the food and her men. “Oh my God, this is so naughty.”

“What?” Rory asked.

“Yes, sub, what?” Brock asked, a guttural twang hanging in his throat.

“His gruff way of speaking to me turns me on.”

“And I want more of you telling us what you like. We don’t like guessing, sub. We want you to voice your desires. Tell us what pushes your hot buttons.” Brock’s eyes darkened. “You’ll find more satisfaction when you’re open with us.”

With her ass planted on the cool granite countertop, she crossed her legs Indian-style and leaned over her plate. Picking up her fork, she cut off a bite of casserole and slipped the meaty concoction between her lips.

“Good?” Mitch asked.

“Delicious.”

“I’d like a show for dinner,” Rory announced around a mouthful of food.

“What can I do for you?”

“Part your thighs and place your plate between your legs.” His jaw flexed and he looked like a burdened man, a man who was definitely hard as stone below the belt. “I want to look at your pussy while I eat.”

“Who would’ve thought?” Mitch teased. “Rory has turned into a pervert while I’ve been away.”

“I like it,” Trixie said, moving her plate forward so she could shift her weight and spread her legs as instructed.

Brock laughed and patted Rory on the back. “You know what? I do, too. It’s hard to get used to, but I damn well like it.”

Rory took another bite, stared at her pussy, and said, “I know what I’m having for dessert.”

“Do you?” she teased, rubbing her tongue across her upper lip. “Then you’d better hurry and finish your dinner.”

Rory stroked his jaw and gave her a heated stare. “No, ma’am. I plan to take my own sweet time.”

“With dinner or dessert?” she asked, continuing her assault on Bertie’s casserole.

Rory placed his hand on her inner thigh. “Both.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we need to have a talk before everyone gets too carried away.” Mitch carried Trixie away from the bar.

“This coming from the man with the only soft cock in the room?” Brock placed his dishes in the sink. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Mitch. “Why am I not surprised by your timing?”

“It’s important.”

“When you have something on your mind, it always is,” Rory said, swiveling his stool around to face him, too. “And I’m certain it couldn’t wait a few hours. Whatever you need to say is too important to postpone.”

“I think so,” Mitch said, pointing to the living room. “Do you mind hearing me out?”

“Of course we will.” Trixie grinned at him as if he were her bread and butter, the only man capable of sating her desires and feeding her hunger.

“Trix,” Rory said evenly, “I think this is our call.”

“I’m with Rory on this one,” Brock said, quickly adding, “Mitch, we may age, but none of us really change. Do we?”

“What do you mean?”

Brock shrugged. “When it comes to women, sex, and sharing women and sex, you want to dictate everything from training to penetration.”

Mitch laughed. “That’s the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard. As if I could stop you from fucking Trixie if you wanted her.”

“I want her all the damn time,” Brock said, acknowledging Trixie with a wink. “She knows it. You might say we’ve been spending a lot of time together while you’ve been on the inside.”

“My incarceration is what I want to talk about. We need to discuss the future.”

“Here we go,” Rory said, flopping down to the sofa. “Did anyone ever tell you…you’re a fuck-kill?”

Brock rapidly shook his head in apparent disgust.

“How’s that?” Mitch asked.

“It’s the same as a buzzkill,” Rory informed him. “You figure it out.”

“By all means, you have the floor now.”

“Good. That’s precisely what I want—the floor, a spot in the bed, a place up against the wall, a position between some very fine and talented legs…” Mitch turned to Trixie. “I want forever.”

Trixie blushed.

“If you’re proposing, I think this is pretty shitty,” Rory said. “Considering she already has two husbands and all.”

“So you think I should ask the two of you for her hand instead of going to her fathers?”

Rory stood. Brock threw his arm back and stopped him from stalking forward. “Actually, Mitch. It would’ve been the proper thing to do.”

“Proper? Well, since we’re such fine and upstanding citizens…”

“We are,” Rory said, cutting him off midsentence.

Mitch sat forward. He clasped his hands and dropped them between his legs. Bowing his head, he took a deep breath and came to terms with something then. No matter what he did or said, Brock and Rory would always feel like he’d deserted them and abandoned Trixie when she needed him most.

Trixie grabbed his hands and shook them. “Mitch, what did you want to say?”

He looked up and observed her precious face. There, he found the only acceptance he needed.

“Brock, Rory, you can relax,” he said. “What I’m proposing is something I’ve had time to think about a lot.”

“And what might that be?” Brock asked.

“I’ve thought of an arrangement of sorts and I think it might work for everyone.”

Trixie flinched. Immediately, her lips formed a sullen pucker.

Mitch decided to meet her gesture head-on. “You won’t like it, Trixie, but if you’ll consider what I’m proposing and think of Cazeron and Winter, I think you’ll agree it’s best for everyone.”

“He’s walking again,” Rory said, grimacing. “I knew it. He’s fucking walking again!”

“When hell freezes over,” Mitch said. “If you’d calm down and let me finish, I believe everyone will be happy with the arrangement. I think you’ll agree it’s best for the children.”

“You don’t know my children,” Trixie snapped.

“I don’t,” Mitch agreed. “But I can guess how your family feels about me and I also understand what it feels like to be a child in a very confusing relationship.”

Brock narrowed his gaze on Mitch as if he were willing him to keep his mouth shut. Brock probably wouldn’t like what he had to say but the truth needed to come out. There was no reason for the four of them to be together if Trixie didn’t understand why Rory, Brock, and Mitch were so close prior to meeting her.

“What do you know about a confusing relationship?” Rory said, stalking the refrigerator. Once there, he retrieved three longnecks and a bottle of water. Handing off the nonalcoholic beverage to Trixie, he then passed around the beer.

“Well let’s see,” Mitch began, settling against the cushion behind him. “How about this for a visual…I’m sixteen years old. My buddies are outside waiting for me in the convertible. I’m in a hurry. I don’t pay attention. I hit the door and then the stairs without so much as looking up. By the time I’m halfway up the second flight, I can tell my dad has a woman—a woman who is not my mother—bent over the banister.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, Mitch. How devastating.”

“No it wasn’t,” Rory said bitterly. “The woman was my mom.”

“What?” she asked.

“It’s true,” Mitch said. “So I try to ignore them and hurry off in the opposite direction and pass my room because I hear this wailing and I think to myself, “That’s gotta be Mom. She must’ve walked in and caught them. Right?”

Trixie nodded in agreement, apparently anticipating a devastating conclusion to his story.

“Wrong. The wailing I hear is more pleasurable than painful. I round the corner and Brock’s dad is giving it to my mom while Rory’s dad is watching.”

“They were swingers,” Trixie said.

“Yes they were,” Mitch readily admitted. “And it fucked with all our heads for about three years.”

“My children are well adapted, Mitch.”

“Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. What I won’t do to your kids is what our parents did to us. I won’t confuse them.”

“But they’re young,” Trixie said. “They won’t know the difference. In a few years they won’t even remember when it was just Brock and Rory.”

Mitch slowly shook his head. “I’ve considered our options, Trixie.”

“And I don’t have a say here?”

Mitch shared a knowing exchange with Brock. Rory took a seat again. Apparently, he liked the way this conversation was going so far.

“There’s more,” Mitch said. “I have a business in mind and I’d like to run it by you. See what you guys think.”

“We’re all ears now,” Brock said.

Mitch stood and paced the length of an area rug. “I want to reopen Cow Camp but I want to change things up a bit. I’d like to open a year-round retreat for those in the lifestyle.”

“Of course you do,” Trixie said, leaning back on her elbows and crossing one leg over the other.

Once that leg started bouncing, Mitch knew Trixie wasn’t too happy with him.

“Mitch, where does Trixie fit in all of this?” Brock asked.

“Obviously not in the year-round sex retreat,” she muttered.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, my sexy sub.” He averted his gaze and watched Rory. “This idea of mine will suit you more than the other two.”

“Let’s hear it,” Rory said.

“I don’t want to disrupt the children’s lives. Let’s face it, guys. I’m not the kind of fellow who attends little league baseball games and PTA.”