by K. A Knight
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, beautiful,” Grant calls from somewhere nearby.
“What sort of party are you idiots throwing?” I cross my arms over my chest. I know better than to try and talk them out of it. My birthday last year had been an absolute fiasco. Patrick’s mom had come by with his little brothers to trick or treat. They’d arrived at the door just in time to see me kissing Trey.
We don’t hide our non-traditional relationship from any of our families, but some people weren’t as in-the-loop as others. My poor parents know everything, since they had to meet all of the guys. But that had been the day Patrick’s mom had her suspicions confirmed about what exactly we got up to ‘in this big house’ as she likes to put it.
Thankfully, Grant had been there to point out polyamory has biblical roots and we are not, in fact, going to burn in hell for our alternative lifestyle.
Patrick dumps a bag full of plastic cups and paper décor onto the table in front of me with a huge smile.
“We are going to do exactly what we need to do. Your dirty thirty was sort of . . . waylaid due to family drama, last year. We figured a big party was due. You mad?” Patrick sidles up in front of me, sliding his hands down my arms.
I screw my mouth up to the side, gazing up into his face. It’s hard not to laugh. They think they’re so slick. I brush my lips against his, smiling into his mouth before I pull back.
“Of course I’m not mad,” I laugh, grabbing a bag of decorations. “But we have a lot of work to do. Who all did y'all invite?”
“Um . . . everyone.”
“Everyone, like who?”
“Like everyone from church,” Grant pipes in as he throws two more bags full of supplies onto the kitchen floor.
“And everyone from the bar,” Trey adds.
“And everyone from work,” Patrick laughs.
“And everyone you know,” Trey quickly adds, tugging on a strand of my hair as he passes me.
I blink, staring down at the bags which are starting to pile up.
Oh, God.
“I don’t even know what to wear? Are we doing a couples theme this year?” My teeth tear into the end of my fingernail as my anxiety builds.
“What about food?” I run to the refrigerator, throwing it open. Half empty pizza boxes stare back at me, accompanied by a few casserole dishes filled with my half-baked concoctions.
I only ever cook when I’m stoned. I grimace, closing the door.
“Stop,” Grant laughs, tugging on my shirt. “Catering. Done.”
“What? I can’t let you guys pay for that!” I rush to the counter, digging through my purse for cash. I never keep much on me because it’s not safe, as my dad pointed out a thousand times.
“Stop it babe,” Patrick growls from around the corner. “Trey handled the food. Moosey’s is catering.”
“Oh! Nachos?” My mouth waters at the thought of their famous Trippy Chicken Nachos.
“Yes ma’am.” Trey smiles shyly from his place by the door to the living room where he’s hanging strands of holographic tinsel.
“Look at you.” My heart swells with pride at what these guys have done.
“Costumes are taken care of too.”
I turn to look at Patrick and Grant, unsure which one had said it.
“Oh God . . . what?” I cringe at the thought of what costume the guys had picked out for me. Images of sexy bunnies and lingerie flash through my head.
“You’ll love it!” Trey laughs.
“You might hate it. If you do, it’s Trey’s fault.” Patrick ducks just in time to avoid getting pegged with a pack of fake spiders.
My eyes fall to a bag on the counter with tissue paper and I groan, pulling it down to peek inside. I pull out the tissues one at a time, my anticipation growing.
Silk brushes against my fingers and I gasp, pulling out a short black dress. I hold it against my chest, looking down at the fabric as it falls against my thighs. Holy shit. The back is almost nonexistent, just a mess of leather and silk tied together and criss-crossed. A lot of skin would be showing. There was something sexy about the corded back of the dress. Somehow, it was dirtier than if the back had just been left open.
“Keep lookin’,” Trey whispers.
I swallow, laying the dress carefully across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I look into the bottom of the bag, pulling out beautiful, multicolored feathers. I blink at them, unfolding the weirdly stiff material until it makes sense. Wings. They bought me wings.
I step back from the bag, holding the wings up to inspect them. Feathers of every color stare back at me, glitter coating the feathers, causing them to catch light.
“These are beautiful—”
“Keep looking, baby,” Patrick murmurs.
I dig through the bottom of the bag, pulling out a matching mask. Extra feathers line the sides of the mask. I press it to my face and run to the mirror in the hallway. Colorful feathers bleed into the side of my hair. I cover my mouth, tracing my fingers over the beautiful mask.
“Guys!” I whisper.
“She likes it,” Trey calls out smugly from the kitchen.
“I love it!” I spin around coming face to face with all three of them. They have gone so far beyond what I expected for my birthday.
“I’m glad you’re happy, beautiful.” Grant’s bright eyes crinkle around the edges.
“You’re going to look amazing.”
“What are you guys going to be?” I look at the three of them, trying to understand how this works for a couples theme.
“What do you think the costume is?” Patrick tilts his head to the side, amusement spelled out across his face.
“Umm . . . rainbow angel?” I look to the side, guilt creeping into my chest. That sounded dumb, even to me.
“Nu uh.”
“Okay, so?” I walk slowly into the kitchen, looking at the black dress and colorful wings.
“Bird of Paradise.” They all say it at the same time.
I burst out laughing as it starts to make sense. They’re so damn cheesy. The guys play all the time about how I’m their little slice of paradise. My eyes roll up even as a smile curls my lips.
“And what are y'all going to be?”
“Well, the sales lady suggested we dress like the best of Brazil.”
My arms cross over my chest as I narrow my eyes on Patrick. “The sales lady, huh?”
He throws his hands up in the air, backing away.
“I did nothing. We needed help to make sure we look great. Each of us will be dressed to match our lovely date. Whom, I’ll add, the sales lady was well aware of.”
I level each of them with a serious look before I dig into another bag beside the one that had held my costume. Three suits, each in a different color are folded neatly into the bag. Baby blue, lime green, and purple fabrics peek out between the tissue paper.
“Awe, you guys are the sweetest!” I hug my dress to my chest and scamper to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Trey booms from the kitchen.
“I have to take a shower and get ready!”
“Who's going to help us decorate the house?” Grant asks. He sounds like he already knows the answer to that question.
“I’m the birthday girl, I’m not doing shit.” I rush up the stairs toward the master bathroom and lock the door behind me. Leaning my head back against the closed door, I can hear the laughter drifting up from the ground floor.
I turn on the shower and peel my tank top and shorts off, glancing at the makeup I’m notorious for collecting but never using. There’s a few shades I can use to really make this look pop.
My feet slip on the wet linoleum as I step beneath the water. I grip the door to the shower, my heart pounding against my chest as I catch my balance.
“Fuck!” I whisper scream, covering my chest with my hand as the hot water pounds against my skin.
“You good in there?” a male voice—I’m not sure which one—calls out from the other si
de of the bathroom door.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I lean my cheek against the cool plastic of the shower wall, willing my heartbeat to slow. That gut-wrenching fear in the pit of my stomach finally releases and I reach for the body wash and my favorite loofa.
I stare into the mirror one last time, scrunching the mousse out of my curls—if I didn’t, it would be too crunchy the entire night. My cheeks are highlighted with every shade I could think of. I pull the dress down over my head and bend forward to buckle the ankle straps on my heels. I peel the back off the mask, revealing the sticky part, and press it to my face. Careful to hold it in place while the cosmetic grade adhesive sets, I grab the bag with the wings still inside, and unlock the bathroom door.
Stepping out into the hallway, I notice the music first, floating up from downstairs. A haunting melody I can’t name is pulsing through the speakers. Laughter echoes throughout the house. I look over the bannister to see groups of people already mingling. Patrick is at the door, welcoming another group in his baby blue suit.
I grip the bag, making my way to the stairs. Trey and Grant wait at the bottom of the staircase, smiling up at me. Grant looks great in his purple suit and Trey was made for lime green.
“Need some help with those?” Grant asks, taking the bag from my hand. I turn around on the bottom stair, pulling my hair away from my back.
“Jesus,” Trey murmurs. I can feel his eyes sliding over my back and down to my ass.
“Watch it.” Grant hooks the light weight but stiff material into the straps at my back and pulls my hair away from my hand, framing my face with it before he spins me back around.
“How do I look?”
“Fucking amazing.”
My eyes go wide at Grant’s word choice. He’s usually the least likely to swear between the four of us to curse. A blush warms my cheeks.
Patrick comes jogging up to the three of us, his trademark smile in place. “You look amazing.”
“You really do,” Trey adds. He visibly swallows, his eyes raking up and down my body.
“Well, thanks guys. Y’all look amazing, too.” I take a turn touching the lapel on each of their jackets. They really do look awesome.
“Happy birthday!” They each murmur against my hair.
There’s a hand constantly on some piece of exposed skin, whether it’s my arms, my back, the back of my neck, or my thighs. I’m going to be a puddle on the floor by the time the night’s over.
I’m pulled through a throng of people. I recognize all of them. I’m greeted with various versions of Happy birthday and compliments. Fog covers the floor in the living room, clinging to the furniture under the black lights.
“You guys did all this in a couple hours?” I ask, amazed.
“Well, we had a pretty girl to impress.” Trey tugs on a lock of my hair and I slap his hand away with a smile.
“Should I be jealous?”
“Very,” he growls against the back of my ear. “I have it on good authority that the pretty girl in question wants to fuck me.”
“Oh my, well, far be it for me to interr—”
“Now, now, you two,” Grant laughs, pushing between us. “You can’t molest our slice of paradise until she has seen all her guests and opens up all her presents.”
“There are presents? I thought the party was the present!”
“Well, you’ll just have to wait and see.”
I glare half-heartedly at the three of them and turn around, letting the soft silk dress flow around my thighs. There’s strobe lights pulsing to the beat of the music. It sounds like Irish rock, but I can’t be sure. It’s so loud, I can’t even tell what the words are.
“You look great!” Mia calls out from a group of women I recognize from Moosey’s.
“Thank you!” I grin at her while she models her witch outfit for me. “You look awesome, too! I love the costume, girl!”
“Please, yours puts me to shame. Happy birthday, honey!” Mia wraps her arms around me in a quick hug before she goes back to chatting with her friends.
I stop by one group of people after the next, making small talk with my friends.
“Baby, you look amazing!” Joseph has such a distinctive voice, I know it’s him before I even turn around. He kisses the air beside my cheeks and steps back, turning around and around to display his Raggedy Anne get up.
Joseph looks amazing in the blue dress, of course. He’s always been able to pull off whatever he wants.
“I see your beaus are as handsome as ever.” He doesn’t even bother trying to lower his voice. Joseph has always been over the top, but the guys think he’s hilarious.
“They have to be. Built in competition.” I toss him a wink, turning to see my guys’ reactions. Grant is blushing, Patrick is shaking his head, and Trey looks amused.
“Mm mm mm.” Joseph smacks his lips, making a show of looking Trey up and down.
Trey spins around, adjusting his suit for better inspection. “You like?”
“Of course I do, doll!” Joseph claps his hands and hugs Trey’s neck.
Trey pats his back with a laugh before stepping back.
“I’m still jealous,” Joseph pouts before he walks away. “Very, very jealous!”
“We know.” Grant shakes his head and throws an arm over my shoulder. “Where did you find that guy again?”
“High school,” I giggle.
“He went to school with you and Trey?” Patrick looks confused.
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, y’all aren’t exactly . . . diverse around here.” He looks from side to side as he says the last bit.
“Oh, whatever do you mean?” I bat my eyelashes innocently as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I’m gonna stop talking.”
“Mhm.” Trey laughs behind me, slapping a hand down on Patrick’s shoulder.
“Wait, Patrick’s black?” Grant gasps.
“Hey, fuck you, man.” Patrick grins as he tosses the insult and I cover my own mouth.
“Foooood?” I ask, looking between each of my guys.
“Oh yeah, food. Come here,” Trey murmurs, grabbing my hand.
I let him lead me through the house toward the kitchen. The smell of nachos hits me as soon as we reach the room. I’m picked up off my feet and sat on the counter, a plate of Trippy Chicken Nachos shoved in my face. I smile at Trey while he points to the extra jalapenos and buffalo sauce.
“Just how you like them,” he notes with pride.
“Thank you, baby.” I crook my finger at him and kiss him softly. I lay the plate to the side, on an empty eye on the stove. “Tonight is amazing you guys. Thank you, seriously.”
“Mmhm,” Trey grumbles with an appreciative gaze.
He’s not alone in his assessment. Three sets of eyes rake down my body and I can feel every inch they track against my exposed flesh. The costume they’d picked out for me really doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially with me sitting on the counter, legs as wide open as they are.
Oops.
“Misery Nelson,” Grant purrs, sliding a hand up my arm and around my neck the second before he pulls me into a deep kiss. Our tongues play against one another, a coy game for dominance. When his free hand slides up my thigh and grips the sensitive flesh where it meets my hip, I sigh into his mouth. He wins this round.
Another hand—I’m not sure whose—grips my breast through my dress, thumbing my nipple through the nearly see-through material. I whimper against Grant’s lips before my face is turned.
Trey’s eyes bore into mine. He doesn’t say it, he never does, but he loves me right now. I can always tell when he loves me, though his love is different than my other guys. That’s okay. Not everyone has to be the same. Not even on my birthday.
“You’re mine,” he growls, slipping his hand down to my thinly covered pussy. His thumb rubs the material against my clit until both me and the panties are soaking wet.
My back arches, begging for more and Patrick takes his turn
slipping his tongue around my ear and down my neck, dragging his teeth over the soft flesh over and over while Trey begins to finger me. Fucking hell, they’re trying to kill me, I think, when I look down to see Grant wrapping his hand around his cock.
“Do you want it?” Trey teases, pushing his fingers deep into my pussy as my lips begin to tremble.
“Yes,” I breathe quietly, looking between the three of them. I’ve never wanted anything more.
In an instant, Trey pulls me down from the counter and bends me over, pressing my face against the sink. It’s uncomfortable but that only adds to the hotness of this. A loud rrrrip sounds and I bite my lip, knowing my new panties are being shredded. The control freak in me wants to complain, but I don’t have time to. Trey’s cock slides inside me, filling me up like it’s where he belongs. And it is. Nothing has ever felt as right as Trey sliding deep inside me, bumping into my slick core while Patrick kisses me deeply. The angle is awkward, but somehow that just makes the kisses hotter.
As Trey slowly pounds me from behind, my teeth bump into Patrick’s awkwardly and I groan. “Oh!” My face is turned again, this time to face Grant. My cheek is slightly sore from being pressed into the sink top but I’m too distracted to care. Fingers circle my clit—Patrick’s I think—while I lick my lips and stare at the throbbing cock only inches from my mouth.
Grant slips a hand into my hair, guiding his hard dick closer to my mouth. I flick my tongue out against the tip, the salty taste of precum overwhelming my senses as Trey bottoms out inside me again.
“That’s right, baby, suck his cock while I fuck you like a good girl.”
I whimper against the tender flesh as it slips inside my mouth, swirling my tongue around the edge of the head before I welcome Grant deeper inside. I suck him carefully. Trey is fucking me so hard I’m scared my teeth will scrape Grant.
“Careful, sexy,” Grant groans.
I hold my mouth open and he begins to rock his hips against my face in time with the punishing strokes coming from behind. Trey twists one of my arms behind my back, forcing me to arch my spine as he grinds against my cervix.
“Mmm, that’s right,” Trey snarls.
My free hand is pulled away from the counter and wrapped around another cock. The only one left for it to be is Patrick. I work my hand up and down his length while Grant fucks my face and Trey pounds my pussy. This is sensory overload. I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins anymore.