by JA Huss
“Then maybe that’s how it has to be?”
“Maybe you’re just being juvenile?”
“Maybe I’m just in love?”
“Maybe she’s not in love with you back?”
Burn. “She is,” I say. But I’m not really as sure as I sound.
“How many ways can I explain this to you, Smith? Let’s use Rochelle as an example. She left. Why?”
“She was done?”
“With Quin?” he asks. “I don’t think so. She left to end the game and start over. Quin told me Chella found some secret room up in the attic of her apartment. Rochelle’s secret room. There’s a lot of stuff up there about starting over. Rochelle had to leave the game in order to do that. It doesn’t mean she never cared about me or you and it doesn’t mean she’s not in love with Quin. It means… The game. Is. Over. That’s it. I’m almost positive she’s coming back. Not to us, but to Quin. She just needs to sort things out first.”
“Chella isn’t Rochelle. Not even close. She’s not… weird, for one. And she’s not desperate for anything.”
“How do you know?”
I’m irritated. “What do you mean how do I know? Chella is fucking wealthy. Probably has more money in her trust fund that you make in ten years. She’s loaded.”
“And you, of all people, understand that money isn’t happiness.”
“So what is she desperate for?” I ask. “I’m interested, Bric. I am. So if you know something—”
“I don’t know anything except she’s here, Smith. With all three of us… Perfectly willing to go along with the rules and play the game. And she wants to finish it. I’m betting you money this is over in a week. So why not let her get what she came for and then you can both skip out and start over?”
I’m silent as I think this through. “What if we can’t start over?” I ask him. “What if, after we finish the game, I can’t let it go?”
“Then you’re a dumbass.”
I sigh.
“You’re a dumbass because she’s not in love with me, Smith. She’s not in love with Quin. If she’s interested in any of us, it’s you. And, while I’m in the mood to let it all out, I’ll just say it would be completely one hundred percent selfish of you to deny her the end she’s looking for. She’s here. She needs it to end the way she envisioned it in her mind. If she doesn’t get that, who’s to say she won’t go looking somewhere else?”
I can’t even picture that in my head. Not because I can’t picture Chella doing it, but because I would kill someone.
“If this is what she wants,” Bric continues. His tone is softer now. More understanding. “Isn’t it better to let her do it with us than complete strangers?”
I let out a frustrated breath of air.
“She’s got problems. We all know that. And she’s working them out using us and the game to do it. Don’t take it personally, Smith. It’s not about you right now. It’s about her. Let her do it her own way, in her own time.”
“I’m jealous,” I admit. “I’m fucking jealous.”
“Of me?” He laughs. “Of Quin? Why?”
“I don’t want you to touch her.”
He turns his head away, done with me. “Do what you want. But you’re being shortsighted. She already belongs to you and if you need Quin and me to defer to you tonight, we will.”
He looks back at me. Stares hard at me.
“You’d let me run things? Somehow I can’t picture that.”
“I don’t care, Smith. That’s the part you refuse to see. I do not care. I just want a good, dirty fuck with you, and Quin, and Chella. I’m pretty sure that’s all Quin wants too. Just a nice, filthy fuck to end the game. So plan it however you want. As long as we’re all satisfied at the end, I’m OK with it.”
He stands up, buttons his suit coat, and then points down to the lobby. “I’m having lunch with Lucinda and her husband today.”
I lean over the balcony railing to look down. Lucinda and her husband are talking to a crowd of people just inside the White Room. “Why?”
“I dunno. They want to talk. Quin’s bringing Chella upstairs to my place at eight. See you then.”
He walks off. I watch him as he descends the stairs and then shakes the husband’s hand. Funny how I don’t even know that guy’s name and they’ve been members here for more than eight years. Bric gives Lucinda a quick kiss on her cheek and then they walk into the restaurant and disappear from my view.
Give Chella what she needs. What does she need? It’s fucking killing me because I know Bric’s right about Chella. She is here for a reason and she has refused to tell me what it is. Any of us. I have relentlessly questioned Quin about it for over a week now. He says he has no idea. And like Bric, he doesn’t care.
How can I love a girl who wants to fuck my two best friends at the same time?
I laugh out loud at that. Really, I am the biggest hypocrite ever. There have been other girls who thought they loved me. Thought being the important word in that sentence. I never loved them, so it couldn't be love. Love is not one-sided. Love has to come from both ends at the same time. Romantic love, at least. It’s not the same as loving a child who’s disconnected. Or a parent who fucked you over. I don’t think I ever loved my parents, but maybe they loved me. I guess it’s possible. Though doubtful.
That makes me wonder about Chella’s father. She was a little upset about the way he went about severing their ties, but not the way a child should be. Maybe she doesn’t love him?
How did her family get so screwed up? I have to wonder, because he’s been in public life for twenty years and not once was there a scandal about his family life. No secret mistress, no cheating wife. Chella has no criminal record. She didn’t lash out or rebel as a teenager. Of course, her past has been scrubbed, so what do I know about her? What do I really know about her?
I know she’s dirty.
Which makes me smile. Bric’s right. We play this little game for the payout. The asymmetrical quad fucking is the prize. And I like it. I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have invested so much time and energy in these girls over the years.
She’s very sexual, although I haven’t really had the chance to see all of that side to her. Bric has seen her more sexual than I have. Quin has seen a lot more than either of us.
I just want something of my own for once.
And even thinking that makes me feel a little selfish. I have been given so much in this life. I do not deserve more. I really don’t. I shouldn’t even want Chella for myself. It’s breaks all my rules.
But... I do want her for myself. I wasn’t lying to her father last week. I want to own her. Keep her. Not like a house, though.
I try and work this out in my mind but it’s difficult to come to terms with. To justify.
It should make me feel good to give them the night we’ve been working towards.
It just… doesn’t.
I’m so fucking afraid that we’ll get to the end of the game and I… I won’t want her anymore. What would I do then?
I can’t even picture myself in another game at this point.
I don’t know what I’ll do, but this—I look around the Club. This place has my life for a decade. It’s my home. Well, it was my home until I moved in with Chella.
I have spent almost all of my adult life getting by on the generosity of others. And I’m lucky because Bric and Quin are very generous with me. They give me whatever I want. So much, I never thinking about not having enough. I never wonder anymore if people will provide me with the things I need. It just… comes.
Don’t I owe Quin and Bric the same consideration? Don’t I owe them that much, at least? And shouldn’t I think this through a little more before I give up everything I’ve worked towards all these years?
Take Rochelle, for example. I never liked her much. I put up with her. I fucked her plenty of times with Bric and Quin. But never alone. I didn’t like her alone. And I knew that pretty quick once we all got together.
Wha
t if my feelings for Chella change after tonight?
Yes, it’s better to know that up front, I decide.
So I down my drink, throw down some bills as a tip for the bartender, and go home to think about this alone.
Plan it out, I guess.
What I’ll do to her. What I’ll make her do.
And if this love isn’t real, I’ll know.
I’ll deal with tomorrow… tomorrow.
That’s what I always do, right?
There’s always tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty-Four - Quin
“Do you know where we’re going tonight?” I ask Chella. We’re up in her apartment and she’s walking towards me with her new jewelry, holding out the cuffs for me to help her put them on. I take one and wrap the thick band of diamonds around her wrist.
“Tell me,” she coos. She’s very excited.
I’m very excited too, but I’m a little bit worried about her enthusiasm. She should be more apprehensive than excited. “No, I’m asking you,” I say. “To guess.”
“Ummm…” She thinks for a moment as I finish up with the first cuff and she hands me the other one. “Bric’s apartment?”
“No,” I say, handling the second cuff and taking the collar. It’s heavy with diamonds and platinum. Smith is definitely not afraid to throw his money around when he feels like it’s necessary. I’ll give him that. “Lift your hair up and turn around.”
She does. And then she says, “Down to the basement?” But she knows that’s not happening.
“Absolutely not.” I laugh, fastening the collar tight around her throat.
“Then where?”
I lean into her neck and kiss her softly, making her body shudder and tremble. “Smith’s apartment,” I whisper. “Has he ever taken you up there?”
She melts into my chest, her body soft and pliable. God, this is going to be the best quad we’ve had. I don’t think we’ve ever had a girl we liked so much before. I know how this ends, but I like her. So I’m gonna enjoy every second of tonight. “No,” she says.
“He’s in charge tonight, Chella. I’m gonna tell you the rules—”
“Rules?” She spins around to face me. “What rules? When we’re all together there are no rules.”
“Well…” I smile at her. “That’s mostly true. But see… maybe you haven’t noticed, but we like to spring new things on you at the last minute. To keep it all interesting.”
She scowls at me. Pouts, really. Hands on hips, her lower lip slightly protruding. “What are they?”
“Number One,” I say. “Smith is in charge. If he tells you to do something, you do it.”
“No questions?” Chella asks, raising one eyebrow.
“None.”
“Good. I’m into that.”
I let my chuckle because I know it’s true. She is into this. So much more than any other girl we’ve ever had before. “Number Two,” I continue. “He can tell you not to do something.”
“Quin,” she says, frowning for real this time. “Please tell me he’s not going to stop me from having all of you.”
“God, you’re such a little slut!”
She laughs. “I’ve been telling you that for weeks. He won’t do that, will he?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. He and Bric came to an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding?”
“Smith’s in charge. Usually Bric is in charge. But also that…” I hesitate. Bric called me a few hours ago, and we talked about Smith’s concerns. How he handled it. I wasn’t told not to say anything to Chella, but perhaps Bric just assumed?
“Also what? Tell me, Quin. I always feel like I’m in the dark with you guys. I don’t need to know everything but a little more information would go a long way.”
She’s right. She deserves to know what’s going on. Not all of it is mine to tell, so I’m not gonna give her everything. But a little more won’t hurt. “Bric said you needed it and Smith needed to give in to what you needed.”
She frowns again. “What’s that mean?”
“I think, Chella… you’re the only one who really knows. But I’m answering your question. Whether or not Smith will deny you what you want. And my answer is no. I don’t know how he’ll handle it, but he will handle it.”
“Do think he’ll blindfold me?”
“No.” I laugh. Why would he do that?”
“They did last week when we were together. To keep me anxious, I think.”
“No blindfolds,” I tell her, swiping a piece of hair away from her eyes. “We want you to see everything tonight.”
She draws in a deep breath and finally—finally—there are the nerves that should’ve put in an appearance as soon as I walked into her apartment.
“Are you ready?” I ask, taking her hand.
She nods her head and says, “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Five - Bric
The first thing I notice when Quin leads Chella through the door of Smith’s third-floor apartment is the dress. White, like a bride. Floor-length, with intricate beading on the skirt, and a plunging neckline that almost meets the high slit that comes all the way up the middle of her legs, barely covering her pussy.
It’s a dress that no bride would ever wear on her wedding day.
But this isn’t her wedding day. If I was going to continue the analogy it would definitely be more like the wedding night.
If you were marrying three men at the same time.
The dress was Smith’s choice and it makes me wonder about his state of mind these days. Chella’s throat is collared with diamonds, her wrists cuffed. We own her tonight, that’s what the jewelry means. Again, Smith’s idea. He wasn’t satisfied with what Quin and I had planned for her Christmas presents, so we gave in. We’ve been giving in to him a lot lately.
I glance at Smith, leaning against the bar, holding a drink, and find him transfixed. No one else is in the room right now. Just him. And her. They look at each other like they are starving.
We’re wearing tuxedos and Smith’s is brand new. Something a little edgier than he normally wears to the Club. Something he might have had specially made for his special day.
I clear my throat and say, “Chella. You look so beautiful.”
Smith sets his drink down on the bar and walks towards her, reaching with his outstretched hands. He takes her into his arms and Quin backs off, shooting me a look.
Nervous, I realize.
I think we’re all nervous tonight. And it’s not normal. Usually I’m in control of the first quad night and when I take control, I mean business. There is no room for nerves when I’m in charge. I don’t give anyone time to think, I just give orders.
Smith leans in to kiss Chella on the cheek. Whispers something to her I can’t hear. I’d never tolerate that either. The purpose of the quad is to… be a fucking quad.
But I gave him my word so I wait, patient, as they have a private moment.
Smith backs away, still holding onto both of her hands, and then shifts until he’s got one arm around her. He leads her forward. Quin follows until the four of us are standing in the center of the large elegant room, looking at each other. So close, we form a tight circle.
“Hi, Bric,” Chella says, shy.
I don’t think I’ve seen her shy and I take a moment to wonder where it’s coming from. Smith?
“Chella,” Smith says, taking her hand and placing it over my cock. “Do you want Bric to fuck you tonight?”
No, I decide. Her shyness isn’t because of Smith. Smith is playing, that’s evident.
Chella swallows, looks at me, then immediately back at Smith. “Yes.”
Smith places a hand on her hair and pets her. “And Quin?” he asks, taking her other hand and placing it on his cock.
Chella doesn’t look at Quin. She only sees Smith. She stares straight into his eyes. He gazes back, their stare intense in its meaning. “Yes,” she tells him.
&nb
sp; Smith looks at me and says, “She’s yours. Give her what she wants, Bric.”
Chella is still staring at Smith and I realize what they’re doing. This night is only about them. This night is about what she wants and what Smith will give her. He’s giving her… me.
“Let’s have a seat, Quin,” Smith says, walking over to the couch. He takes a seat, Quin follows, looking a little confused. But he’s a good sport, so he sits down.
Smith unzips his trousers and pulls out his already fully erect cock. His eyes never leave Chella. Her eyes see no one else. He strokes himself, his fist wrapped tightly around his dick, and waits.
Quin looks at me and smiles.
I look at Chella and smile as well. Smith has always liked to watch. And I’m happy to put on a little show for him.
I walk around her, looking only at her body. She tries to turn with me, but I say, “Stand still, Chella. I’ll tell you when I want you to move.”
Her hard swallow is audible in the silent room. Fear. She should feel a little fear about tonight. I’m willing to give her that opportunity.
“I like this dress,” I say. “It’s very pretty.” I finish my circle and stand in front of her. We are in profile to Smith and Quin, so they can get a look long look at what I’m going to do next. “But you know what I don’t like about this dress, Marcella?” I say her name with disgust.
“What?” she asks softly.
I reach for the deeply plunging neckline, grab one side with each hand, and rip it open, exposing her bare breasts. Chella gasps, takes a step back, but I pull her forward and kiss her lips, both hands holding her face close to mine as I breathe heavy into her mouth. “I told you not to move,” I whisper.
She nods, looking me straight in the eyes, Smith temporarily forgotten as she deals with my demands.
“I don’t like the fact that I wasn’t the one who picked it out.” I rip the rest of the dress, right down the middle of her stomach until the tear meets the long slit up her front and comes fully open. Little beads go flying everywhere, bouncing along the black marble floors until they roll out of sight.