by Krista Wolf
Tonight…
My body froze, then tingled, then grew warm again. Holy shit. I’d almost forgotten.
How the hell could you forget something like that?
Midnight. Tonight. My bedroom.
Both of them.
I swallowed dryly. There was a whole big list of things I needed to do today, before I could call the day done. Then I could grab dinner. Relax a little. Maybe even take a bath in the big claw-footed tub — something I’d wanted to do ever since the guys invited me to stay here.
And then… at midnight…
I dropped off my linens and returned to the hallway, just as the shower kicked on behind me. I could imagine Bryce in there, totally naked. The hot water running down his cut, sculpted body. The steam, swirling through the shower enclosure as he soaped up and scrubbed every last glorious bit of that almost mocha-colored skin.
Relax, you dirty sex-addict, the voice in my head admonished me. One thing at a time.
Slowly I shook my head in disbelief. Considering my recent activities, the phrase no longer held much in the way of meaning.
“HVAC,” I said out loud, breaking my rogue train of thought. “Electrician at eleven. Stonemasons after lunch. And then—”
I stopped. Something caught my eye and cocked my head.
My key was there, right where I’d dropped it and kicked it to one side of the hallway. Only it looked different now. Somehow… smaller.
Oh FUCK.
I picked it up, and realized it was broken. The part at the end with the little skeletal teeth was missing. Presumably sheared off, when I jumped at the lightning strike.
Glancing over my shoulder, I ran to the mystery door and searched around. Maybe the broken end of the key had fallen out. Maybe the piece was on the floor, waiting for me to pick it up.
Damn.
It wasn’t of course. Nothing could be that easy.
Apprehensively I peered into the keyhole and there it was — broken off, deep in the lock. There was no way my fingers could reach it. I’d need a clothes-hanger, or some kind of a long, thin tool. Maybe a centerpunch, or a magnetic screwdriver.
I sighed heavily. I’d have to do it fast, too. If one of them tried to enter that room, they’d know. They’d most likely come to me, asking if I knew what happened. Maybe they’d even ask to see my key…
I jiggled the knob, hoping for a last-minute miracle. Only a miracle never happened.
“Just one more thing added to the to-do list,” I grumbled, slipping back into my bedroom.
Twenty-One
KARISSA
Renovating a place like Southhold was tricky, and not just because it was a hundred and fifty years old. Sure, getting original materials was hard, but it wasn’t impossible. It was the modernization of the place that made things ten times more complicated.
You had to consider that guests would be drawn here for the ambiance and feel of a mid-nineteenth century manor. They’d want to experience the old, the antediluvian. They’d expect all the romantic charm of period finishes and antique furnishings, so they could take a thousand cool photos and make all of their friends Facebook and Instagram-jealous.
But after that…
During their stay they’d want all the more modern comforts of home. In their rooms they’d need charging stations, televisions, high-speed Internet. Bathrooms and showers that not only looked like they belonged back in the eighteen-eighties, but were also comfortable and functional.
I spent a lot of design time hiding mini-fridges in raised wood panels. Running air-conditioning through vents that appeared natural, and putting thermostats in strategically hidden places. I found vendors who could match the style and thickness of two-hundred year old area rugs, but with radiant heating mats woven into them to keep everyone’s feet warm. The whole thing was a challenge, and I reveled in thriving at it.
Today I started early, and finished exceptionally late. The ductwork delivery was short, and the pieces all wrong. I spent half the morning locking down the one person responsible for the mix-up, and the rest of it drilling that person a shiny new asshole.
Sometime just after lunch the correct pieces miraculously arrived. I sweet-talked the HVAC guys into working well into the evening, and after authorizing a whole bunch of overtime they were happy to oblige. I hated spending the extra money because of one person’s screwup, but I planned on taking it up with the supply house manager and working that money back into the budget in the way of favors and future discounts.
It wasn’t until eight o’clock that the last of the vans and trucks finally pulled away. I made my way back inside, grateful that my commute now included little more than a staircase and a few hallways. Closing the big doors of the mansion and locking them securely, I left the shrilling of the crickets and cicadas behind.
Food.
I wasn’t hungry, I was starving. Breakfast had been coffee only, and lunch consisted of a mostly-shattered granola bar I found in the back seat of my car. I’d shaken the contents into my open mouth and washed it down with a bottle of water that had been sitting in the sun just a little too long.
But damn, I’d gotten a lot done.
The kitchen was empty, except for the lingering scent of food. The guys had ordered pizza, apparently. Two empty boxes lay scattered across the table, with a note pinned to the top of one telling me to ‘check the oven’.
I did, and was thrilled to see a plate all prepped for me. Two pepperoni and meatball slices lay beautifully spread across a piece of sturdy aluminum foil, along with half a rice ball and three garlic knots. “We work hard, play hard, and eat well,” one of them once told me, though I couldn’t remember which.
Fifteen minutes later I was a happy girl, stuffed comfortably with meat and cheese and bread. The rice ball had been absolutely delicious. The garlic knots I re-wrapped and put back into the fridge.
Midnight.
The word had lingered in the back of my mind all day. It excited me. Frightened me. Warmed me from the inside out.
Should you still be doing this?
It was a question I’d put to myself in the most honest way possible, trying to put my more sensual appetites aside. Sure, I could do it. Hell, I even wanted to do it — or at least my body did. But then there was the issue of Roderick and the thunderstorm and spending last night in his bed. Sneaking out this morning had seemed the proper move at the time, but afterward I couldn’t help but think I’d done something… well…
Wrong?
To be honest, I wasn’t sure. It felt wrong at times, hiding something so blatant. And hiding it so unnecessarily, considering all three of them were committing the same carnal transgressions. They just didn’t know it.
I cleaned up, shut down the kitchen, and made my way back to our wing of the house. My legs weighed a thousand pounds each as I trudged up the grand staircase. Silently I toyed with the idea of moving the elevators up in the renovation schedule.
The broken key. The jammed lock.
All of these things and more raced through my tired mind.
The shattered windows on the other side of the manor.
I hadn’t addressed any of those problems yet, other than ordering the windows boarded up. I’d been too busy, too preoccupied. Too focused on other distractions too, like the feel of Roderick’s strong arms wrapped tightly around me, as the rain drummed against the distant roof.
As usual I was tired but awake. Physically exhausted, but mentally running full tilt through the maze-like corridors of my mind.
A bath.
Yeah, a bath was definitely on the agenda. Steaming hot water. Coconut soap and fragrant oils.
Everything else could totally wait.
Twenty-Two
KARISSA
I decided what I would do almost right away. There was no use denying it, really. No need to waste time convincing myself of something different, when I already knew exactly what I wanted.
And what I wanted was them.
I spent the rest of t
he time soaking contentedly in the heated water, rubbing rich lather over every inch of my exposed skin. By the time I finished my skin was soft and warm and deliciously scented. I smelled like a tropical paradise, and felt even better.
Crawling into bed took the last of my physical strength, that’s how happy and relaxed I was. I lay on the bed in my softest robe. I undid my ponytail and let my hair spill out, feeling sexy and sensual as it crashed down around me in shimmering waves.
The knock came at almost exactly midnight, as promised. I’d left the door slightly ajar. After two quick but virtually silent raps they opened it, and both peeked in.
“Well hello boys.”
I was leaning back against my headboard, propped up by pillows. I could’ve been reading a book, or perusing a magazine, or acting like I was otherwise occupied. But that would’ve been bullshit anyway. There wasn’t any reason for it.
Besides, I hated bullshit.
“Come on in.”
Gently I extended my arms and patted both sides of the bed. The guys wasted no time in getting on board. They crossed the room quickly, removing their shirts along the way. Bryce took my right side, and Camden my left.
Jesus…
Something inside me did a slow, sexy somersault. The two of them looked magnificent, all bare-chested and beautiful. Their eyes were eager. They crawled me slowly though, as if in doing so they could see exactly what lay beneath my robe.
And what lay beneath my robe was nothing.
“How was your bath?”
Camden asked the question as he slid up alongside me. He wore nothing except his boxers. I could see they were already tented with his own excitement.
“Relaxing,” I answered softly. I was still propped up, with my arms locked behind me. Camden nuzzled my neck, while Bryce’s mouth sought mine.
God…
He kissed me, and his lips were every bit as incredible as I remembered. I went even wetter than I was, and I was already drenched.
“Want to relax even more?” Camden whispered into my ear. I turned my head and he took over kissing me, sliding his tongue sexily against mine.
“Ummm… sure.”
“Then turn over.”
They flipped my body before I could even accommodate the request. One minute I was lying there, kissing them in turn, the next I was on my stomach, my arms stretched out overhead.
Four hands assailed my body, touching and kneading. Twenty fingers massaged me slowly, starting at my shoulders before working their way downward.
“MMMmmm...”
They didn’t respond as I lay there, squirming and groaning beneath their ministrations. They were two different men, with two different styles. But working me over like this, they somehow moved as one.
“This is amazing.”
My eyes fluttered closed in absolute pleasure. With each squeeze or push or circular press of a thumb, I could feel the tension in my muscles give way.
“You guys should quit construction,” I moaned. “Open a massage parlor.”
Silence. More rubbing. More groaning on my end.
“I mean, you can keep the look and everything,” I sighed happily. “Especially the toolbelts. I love those. But as far as… I mean… you should probably…”
I was losing consciousness, it all felt so fucking good! So incredibly soothing and relaxing, to just let myself so totally loose.
Their hands moved further downward, kneading and rubbing. Massaging the knots from my middle and lower back, leaving long stretches of quivering, satisfied flesh in their wake. I was a shuddering, whimpering mess. By the time their fingers wandered over the curve of my ass, my whole body was already jelly.
“Mind if we lift this?”
I felt a tug at the hem of my robe. I lay my face sideways against the comforter and laughed.
“You can do whatever the hell you want,” I told them.
“Whatever, huh?” Camden mused.
I nodded as a particularly deep thumb drew another groan from me. “Uh huh.”
“We like the sound of that.”
They continued their work, digging deep into the muscles of my sore, naked ass. I had no idea how much tension was actually stored in the glutes. To finally release it like this felt near-orgasmic.
“Look at her thighs,” I heard Bryce murmur. “They’re perfect.”
“I know.”
His hands squeezed hard, sending shockwaves of pleasure. “I mean, I just want to—”
“I know.”
One of my lovers leaned down, and was now planting kisses on the nape of my neck. The heat was electric. Every new touch made me jolt with excitement. And now the hands were on my thighs, wringing them gently. Thick, calloused fingers contrasting wonderfully against my soft, supple skin. Touching. Rubbing. Dragging inexorably upward, through the valley between my thighs…
“We’ve been thinking about this for the last two days,” Bryce whispered hotly into my ear. He pinned my hair back. Pressed his full lips right up against my ear lobe and pulled, gently. “The wait was excruciating.”
There were hands on both my legs now, kneading and exploring. Sliding further along until a finger brushed the very edge of my mound, which by now was totally throbbing.
“Look at her,” said Camden. “She’s totally drenched.”
He dragged a thick finger through me, tracing gentle circles along the way. Just as he reached my swollen entrance, he slid right in.
Ooohhhhh…
“Fuck. She’s like a million degrees, too.”
I wanted to scream. To flip over and spread my legs and beg them to fuck me. The ache growing inside me was overriding everything else: reason, exhaustion — anything that stood between me and these two hard bodies, ready and willing to screw me senseless.
And I absolutely couldn’t wait to be senseless.
“I’m relaxed enough,” I declared, twisting my body over. I ended up on my back, staring up at two pairs of lust-filled eyes. With a quick pull of the terrycloth belt I let my robe fall all the way open. “Have at me.”
They were on me in an instant, these two beautiful men. Kissing me. Touching me. Sliding their hands up and down my naked body, while I writhed and cooed and pulled each of their heated mouths to a different breast.
Holy fuck…
It occurred to me that everything was coming a little too easy for me. That each movement, each kiss and touch and switch-off between these two gorgeous men seemed perfectly natural, like I’d been doing it all my life.
This is insane.
Insane or not, it was the most amazing place I’d ever been — pinned down in bed, being taken care of by more than one man. Taking on the attentions and affections of two distinct lovers, each one bent on not just his own satisfaction, but mine too.
They were devouring me now — the both of them — kissing my face, my lips, my full, heaving breasts. Their fingers dipped between my legs, causing me to gasp and writhe beneath them.
“You smell delicious,” Bryce told me, adding a sly grin.
“I am delicious.”
“Prove it.”
I spread further in invitation, sighing as he kissed his way down. I could feel his hands on my thighs. His stubble brushing the sensitive skin just below my belly-button, as he dragged his mouth even lower…
Then, suddenly, everything stopped.
Their hands left my body. There was a shift on the bed, left and right, as they both sat upright.
And that’s because Roderick was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest.
Holy—
“Oh don’t let me interrupt,” he declared smartly, shifting his stance. One corner of his mouth curled into a bitter smirk. “You were just getting to the good part.”
Twenty-Three
KARISSA
For a few long moments, everything seemed frozen in time. Bryce and Camden staring at each other, looking for answers. Roderick leaning casually against the door jamb, as if he’d been there the whole t
ime.
“Bro,” said Camden, after an awkward period of silence. “It’s not like this. This isn’t what you—”
“C’mon,” Roderick sneered, “do you really want to go down that road?”
Apparently he didn’t. Camden sighed in answer, his mouth going tight.
“You didn’t think I knew?” Roderick continued. “I knew the moment it happened. I saw it on your faces at breakfast the next morning. All of you.”
His eyes shifted guiltily to me before settling back on his friends again. He shook his head more in disappointment than anger.
“You’re breaking our vow.”
“And you broke it yesterday!” Bryce exclaimed suddenly. “You were with her all night!”
Roderick’s expression changed in an instant. “And how do you know that?”
“Because I snuck into her room,” said Bryce. “All I found was an empty bed, soaked from the rain.”
Another pause. Another awkward silence.
“I took her in last night,” Roderick admitted, “during the storm. She was cold. Wet.”
“I’ll bet she was,” grunted Camden.
“Look, we’re all guilty,” I cut in. “We work hard, all day long. There’s a ton of stress involved, lots of frustration. Not to mention all the built up sexual tension,” I added, “what with the three of you walking around shirtless, all pumped up from the gym…”
“Please!” Bryce laughed. “And you’re innocent? You walk around in those tiny little boy shorts all the time. The ones that hug every curve of your ass, and ride up high on the insides of your thighs.”
“So?”
“So?” he snorted. “It’s enough to drive a guy—”
“Alright,” I conceded. “Point taken.”
“Seriously, I’m talking about—”
“Like I said, we’re all guilty,” I continued. “But we’ve been charged up. I’ve been here nearly a year already, and between all three of you I haven’t seen a single girlfriend in sight. That’s unnatural! Especially considering what you look like.”