THE RULE OF THREE: A.C.H.E., MOTO, and TRINITY

by Never , M.

  Fuck, these two men know just how to destroy me and take immense pleasure in doing so.

  I moan mindlessly, a wreck on the bed as they flip me onto my stomach. “You don’t think we’re done with you yet?”

  Chase urges me onto my hands and knees.

  I weakly protest as Shane rolls beneath me sixty-nine style and latches his mouth back onto my clit.

  “Oh,” I wince in agony. It’s so tender.

  “Suck his cock, pixie.” Chase pushes my head down, as he enters me from behind. I squeak from the force of his thick cock as I wrap my lips around Shane’s straining length. I suck sluggishly as they wage a new war on my body. Shane’s swirling tongue and Chase’s hammering thrusts sending me to another mind-altering land. I hum around Shane’s shaft helplessly as I become another ticking time bomb.

  “See how much we missed you, Jenn?” Chase grunts as he fucks me. “See how much we love this body?” I jerk as Shane nibbles my clit, my insides quivering. “No one will ever make you feel as good as we will.” I mewl in response as Shane works his stiff cock in and out of my mouth.

  “C’mon, pixie, come for us again. Give us every drop of that sweet juice.” Chase traps my hips and slams into me causing me to squeal. I bear down as the feel of Shane’s relentless tongue and Chase’s demanding cock careens me right over the edge. My thighs tremble, and my pussy explodes with another rush of wetness as my body and mind succumb helplessly to their demands. A muffled cry escapes from me as the climatic revolutions hit one after the other after the other.

  After the last, my limbs give out.

  The two of them just annihilated me in the most decadent way.

  I suck air through my nose as I lay lifeless on Shane’s body.

  “That’s it.” He kisses my swollen clit before Chase withdraws and they roll me onto the mattress. “That’s exactly what we wanted. You, soaking wet.” I catch a glimpse of him wiping the glistening moisture from his face right before Chase pilfers a searing kiss, moaning in approval of the taste on Shane’s lips. “Our turn, pixie.” Chase lays on his back pulling my limp form on top of him. Through all the madness, I didn’t realize they didn’t come.

  “I got a taste of Shane’s lips. Now, it’s time I get a taste of yours.” Chase traps my face, fusing his mouth to mine, stretching my jaw wide as he plunges his tongue halfway down my throat. The feel of Shane’s fingers causes me to groan as he spreads my dripping arousal from my puffy folds up the line of my ass. He breaches the hole with one finger, pumping lightly.

  “This is where I want to come,” he adds a second digit and stretches as Chase slips back inside me. I’m so wet, the two of them glide effortlessly in and out.

  “Brace yourself, baby,” Shane mutters in my ear as the tip of his cock pokes at my wanton little rosebud. “I need you so bad. I’m going to push right in.” Before I even have a chance to protest, Shane penetrates me fully, burying his cock balls deep into the resistant little ring. I struggle and screech against Chase’s death grip on my cheeks as he swallows my uncomfortable moans, the initial bite morphing into a dull burn before blistering pleasure.

  “That’s my girl. I knew you could take it.” Shane circles his hips, exploiting the tight muscles of my channel. My eyes roll back as they fuck me collectively. Chase never releasing me from our kiss.

  Blazing moments pass as three bodies become one. As we each seize and shudder and shake, finding sweet release in the confines of one another.

  The feeling of two red-blooded males coming inside me is unlike any other experience on the planet. Being with them, loving them is like worshiping a whole new religion.

  Sweaty, breathless, and replete, I drift off secure in their arms. My last thought—their embrace is exactly where I’m meant to be.

  6

  I hate waking up alone. I stretch out, taking up the whole bed. I sigh as I look up at the coffered ceiling. I’m getting too used to this room. This place.

  These men.

  If I don’t get up, they’ll keep me in bed all day again, forcing me to submit to their every wicked whim. I find myself smiling. I like their wicked whims.

  All of them.

  I pad out barefoot into the living room in just one of Chase’s white undershirts and a pair of panties. The punishing my body took last night has left me deliciously sore. A good pain I can most definitely live with. I find Chase sitting at the dining room table, shirtless, sporting glasses and reading over what I assume is work material. He has that pensive, studious lawyer look on his face. I know he’s focused, but I just can’t help myself. I climb onto his lap and into his arms, disturbing his work. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

  “Morning.” He tightens his grip and presses a long, lingering kiss on my lips.

  “Good morning,” I purr, looking up into his big brown, penetrating eyes. “These,”—I push the thick, black-rimmed glasses up his nose—“are sexy. How come I didn’t know you wore them?”

  He grins guiltily. “I hate them. I usually live in my contacts. But my eyes were killing me this morning. So I caved.”

  “I wish you would cave more often. I like you in glasses.”

  “Really?” He’s pessimistic.

  “Really. They’re Superman sexy.”

  “Now you’re stretching it.”

  “I mean it! There is something about a man with muscles and glasses.”

  “If you say so,” he smirks modestly.

  “I do.” I push lightly on the glasses once more. “Where’s Shane?”

  “Surfing.” Chase nods at the window.

  “I should have known.” He always sneaks in some board time in the morning. “What are you working on?” Papers are spread out all over the glass table.

  “Sales and acquisitions. It’s a blast.”

  “That looks like a lot of acquisitions.”

  “Not as many as you may think. Each one just has an unbearable amount of paperwork.”

  “Clearly.” I resist the urge to joke if the Corkscrew’s procurement is among that paperwork. But a dig like that could open the door to some unwelcome conversation. And no one wants that, especially after the night we had. My skin is still on fire. Just resting in Chase’s arms has my blood pumping to all my pressure points. The one between my legs primarily. Jesus, these men and what they can do to me.

  “Jenn?”

  “Mmm?” I slide my eyes up.

  “What were you just thinking about?”

  I shamelessly blush. “Nothing?”

  Chase cocks his eyebrow. “You sure about that?” He locks me in his iron embrace and brushes his lips against my ear.

  “Mmm hmm,” I squeak.

  “Want to know what I’m thinking about?” Sex. Please lord let it be nail me right to this table sex.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask huskily.

  “Breakfast,” he drawls.

  “Breakfast?” I jerk my head back.

  He chuckles, the thick black glasses sliding down his nose. “Yes, breakfast. Mainly those waffles you made us the other morning. I’ve been fantasizing about eating them just about as much as I fantasize about eating your pussy.”

  “Chase.” I hit his solid chest. “For a refined lawyer, you’re naughty.”

  “That’s what you do to me.”

  “I have a feeling you were naughty way before I met you.”

  “Maybe,” he teases.

  “Definitely. You can’t fool me.”

  “Can I persuade you to feed me?”

  “What time is it?” I tap the button on his phone. I gasp when I see it’s eleven-thirty. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”

  “You had a long day and an even longer night. We thought you could use the rest.”

  “I appreciate that.” I scramble off his lap. “But I need to get going.”

  “Why are you always running out on us?” Chase snatches my hand before I get too far.

  I stop, appreciating his striking features—his strong jawline, thick black
eyelashes, straight nose, and disappointed expression. I run my fingertip down his cheek lovingly. “I don’t mean to. It’s just Pops has so little time. I need to be there for him when I can. Please say you understand.”

  Chase sighs, leaning into my touch. “I do. We both do. We’re just selfish and want you all to ourselves.”

  “You have me. All of me,” I bravely admit.

  “Do we really?” he asks with a hopeful look in his chocolate eyes.

  “Yes. Mind, body, and soul, I swear.” His dark brown irises sparkle. “And when I get back, I’ll cook you and Shane all the waffles you can eat, and we can talk about what that means.”

  Love. It means love. That I love you both. I’m committed to you both.

  We found our holy trinity.

  “Deal. Try not to be too long,” he requests selfishly.

  “I can’t make any promises, except for waffles.” I drop a kiss on his lips.

  “We’ll take what we can get.” Chase traps my face and claims my mouth fiercely, absorbingly.

  The exact same way he kissed me last night while he came inside me. I shudder from crown to core.

  “I’ll be fast.”

  I grab my bridesmaid dress and sparkly high heels off the floor and stuff them into my overnight bag, then throw on a pair of jeans and ballet flats. My hair is a freaking mess. I finger comb it into submission before grabbing my purse. Checking my phone, I find that it’s dead. No wonder I slept so late. No alarm.

  “Bye, Chase!” I scurry out of the door. “Give Shane a kiss for me!” I run outside and down the front steps.

  “Jenn!” Chase follows me as I open my driver’s side door. “Jenn, wait!”

  “I have to go! I’ll see you later!” I blow him one last kiss, start my car, and drive away.

  I race home to wash up and change, wanting to get over to see Pops before he passes out for the day. Afterward, I’ll check in at the restaurant since I wasn’t there at all yesterday.

  God knows what kind of shape it’s in after Shayna was left in charge.

  I plug in my phone and hop in a steaming hot shower. My sore muscles are in desperate need of the reprieve.

  Once I turn the water off, I hear the piercing ring of my cell. “Shit.” I grab a towel, draping it over my dripping body as I race to answer it. I nearly break my neck on the slippery linoleum as I pick up on the last ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello,” a woman responds evenly. “Is this Jennifer Reeves?”

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Evelyn Summers. I’m the medical director here at Magnolia Nursing Home.”

  My stomach drops. Just completely bottoms out.

  “Mmm hmm,” I barely squeak out, squeezing my teary eyes shut.

  “Ms. Reeves, I’m calling on behalf of a Mr. Nathanial Jones.”

  Pops.

  “Yes?” I grab the counter to brace myself for what’s coming.

  “I’m sorry to have to inform you that Mr. Jones passed away early this morning.” I cover my mouth to conceal the sob. It’s too soon. I wasn’t ready. “You were listed as his next of kin.”

  “Yes, I am. I’m all he has.”

  He’s all I have.

  “He’s already been moved to Emerson Funeral Home. It says in his paperwork he wished to be cremated.”

  “When is it scheduled to happen?” I can barely whisper the words.

  “They won’t schedule it until they hear from you. In case you want to see him one final time,” she informs me clinically.

  “Okay, yes, thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Reeves.”

  Me too. “Thank you.” I compulsively wipe my leaking eyes.

  “Ms. Summers?”

  “Yes, Ms. Reeves?”

  “Did he go peacefully?”

  “In his sleep.”

  I sag with relief. The thought of Pops suffering any more than he had to . . . I just couldn’t bear it.

  “Thank you, again.” I hang up and weakly slide down my kitchen cabinet to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The pain, the loss, the sense of abandonment quickly destroys me. I bawl right there on the cold vinyl. Naked, alone, and inconsolable. For a prolonged moment, I feel like I’m twelve years old again and a neglected, forlorn child.

  That same child Pops scooped up and molded into a woman.

  I don’t know how long I lie there, but when I can finally move, I numbly get dressed, wanting to go to the only place that will bring me solace. A late September breeze ruffles my wet hair, sending a frigid chill through my whole body. The entire world looks bleak, colorless, as I walk the three block trail to the Corkscrew. A trek I’ve made thousands of times. A trek that will never be the same after today.

  As I come to the front door, I pull the keys from my pocket before I notice something strange.

  Chains?

  I tug on the thick lock with a fresh swell of tears swimming in my eyes. It jingles securely as I yank. What the fuck is going on? Through my wet, blurry vision, I notice the sign posted above my head.

  CONDEMNED by order of the town of Newhaven Beach.

  I lose it. Screaming bloody murder at the flat, inanimate piece of paper.

  In a fit of rage, I race home, knowing exactly where I have to go. I drive to Ty Winters satellite office in a blur. That piece of shit is definitely behind this.

  I slam on the brakes, the tires screeching, as I pull up to the glass building. Storming to the front door, I wrench the handle and nearly rip my arm out of my socket. I scream and bang on the glass, demanding to see him. I continue for what feels like hours until I’m too tired to raise my arms, and I have no breath left to bellow.

  It’s Sunday. No one’s there. My logical, rational side realizes that. But the part of me that’s dying wants to hurl rocks through every single window. Wants to smash and shatter the whole building so Ty fucking Winters knows exactly what it feels like to lose something important to him.

  “I hate you!” I erupt. “I hate you, you son of a bitch, and every goddamn thing you stand for!” I pound my fists on the smoky glass until they hurt. Until I have nothing left inside.

  I slink down to the ground defeated. I lost.

  Everything.

  A new shot of anger suddenly skyrockets inside me.

  Did they know? Was that the plan all along? Distract me with sweet words and touches and promises as their boss steals my whole life right out from under me?

  Another fit has me running. Driving like a maniac several blocks down to a place I left happy from this morning.

  I careen up the front stairs and barrel through the door. Before I can blow my stack, I come face to face with the devil himself. Ty Winters standing casually in Chase and Shane’s living room. Smug in Khaki pants, a polo shirt, and tousled copper hair. In an act of blind fury, I launch myself at him.

  “Son of a bitch!” My fist connects with his chest as Shane and Chase attempt to subdue me.

  Hot tears start again. Buckets this time as I throw verbal daggers at Ty.

  “You piece of shit! What did you do?” I scream, flailing like hell to climb out of their hold.

  “Jenn, calm down!” Chase hooks his arms around my waist as Shane stands directly in front of me. He traps my face, forcing me to look him dead in the eyes.

  “Did you know? Did you fucking know?” I demand, my cheeks on fire and soaked with tears. His fingers slipping from the moisture.

  “They didn’t know,” Ty speaks. “Not until today. I had a courier send the paperwork over for the sale this morning.”

  “Sale? What sale? I never authorized a sale!” I swipe at him.

  “You didn’t have to. I paid off the liens on the restaurant. It became mine. I tried to warn you, Ms. Reeves. I made you a very generous offer,” he reminds me callously. A pillar of indifference. “You forced my hand.” I stare blankly at the coldest man on the planet. Winters suits him perfectly because his heart is made of pure fucking ice. “Pride is an ugly thing.”

  “T
y, don’t be a prick,” Shane snaps.

  “You would know,” I mimic Ty’s callous tone. “You really are the devil,” I hiss.

  He doesn’t indulge me with a response, which only makes me angrier.

  “Let go!” I twist myself free from Shane and Chase’s grasp and stumble forward as they release me.

  “Jenn,” Shane voices my name sternly, fearfully, as I backpedal to the door.

  “Stay away from me. Both of you. All of you.” I shoot laser beams at Ty. “I can’t stand to look at any of you.”

  I burst out the front door before any of them can stop me. I’m going to be sick. I catch Shane and Chase making a mad dash after me, but I’m already in my car speeding away before their feet hit the pavement.

  7

  I’ve stared at Pops’ small urn for the last three weeks. It still hasn’t sunk in that he’s gone. It hasn’t sunk in that I can’t escape to the one place that’s ever felt like home. It hasn’t sunk in that I have nothing and am entirely alone.

  No tears. Yeah right, Pops. It seems crying is the only thing I’m capable of. I’ve lost all direction, lost who I am, because that old man and that weathered restaurant were everything that defined me.

  My phone lights up for the umpteenth time. I’ve avoided every call and every text message from every single person I know. I don’t want to hear it. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity in their voices. Poor Jennifer, what is she going to do now?

  No thanks. I would rather hide and deal with my loss alone. It’s easier to wallow when no one is constantly trying to console you. The pain is more potent when you can drown in it all on your own. Call me a masochist, but it’s all I have left to hold on to, the sadness.

  At half past eleven, I drag myself off the couch, pull on a hooded sweatshirt, and walk outside into the cold, drizzly October morning. I walk solemnly down the sandy sidewalk, my face dewy from the chilly mist.

  I stop short once I get to my destination. Fifty feet away from the place I once considered home. The little life the old restaurant had left is gone. The desertion was its undoing. It looks depressed and ragged under the dreary gray sky. As aged as the building is, it never came across as rickety as it does now.