Loose Ends

by Kristen Ashley

  How they were going to find seven thousand dollars to cover Molly’s ring and the money to give her a fantastic honeymoon, D didn’t have a clue.

  He was all in for Erin and Bob to kick money their way so they could get the ring without Molly knowing about it.

  He wasn’t in at all with them owing Mad’s parents seven grand.

  But that ring was perfect in the way that now, D knew, no other ring would do.

  “Fuck,” he whispered as his phone rang.

  In order not to disturb what his man and woman were doing in the back, he quickly took the call as he moved toward the French doors to the patio.

  But he saw who the call was before he put the cell this ear.

  “Yo, Mistress girl,” he greeted quietly, shifting through the doors and closing them behind him.

  “Hey, D, how’s things?” Sixx asked.

  D pulled up the good ole boy and said through a forced smile, “Movin’ and groovin’, like always. Wake. Work. Fuck. Sleep. Rinse. Repeat.” He heard her soft laughter as he eased himself into a slider. “How’s things with you?”

  “Good . . . great, actually. Wake. Work. Fuck. Sleep. Rinse. Repeat. What could be bad about that?” she replied.

  He’d been taking a swig while she talked.

  He swallowed it and said, “Not a damned thing.”

  “It’s been a while,” she noted.

  It had.

  After their gig at the Bolt, they’d seen her and her man a couple of times, accepting her invitation to go to the gladiator games her man, Stellan, ran out east, having Sixx and Stellan over for dinner.

  Since then, they’d gone their separate ways.

  Sixx texted every once in a while, being a smartass and keeping a connection. He’d texted back, returning the smartass and the connection.

  But that was it.

  As far as he knew, she didn’t keep in touch with Molly or Maddox like that.

  Though he’d never asked.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, but said no more because there wasn’t anything to say.

  “Listen, I need to ask a favor,” she told him.

  “Shoot,” he invited.

  “I’ve got a job, and I’m sorry it’s not more notice, but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do tomorrow night. I need backup. Just eyes and ears, making sure things are copasetic. It isn’t dangerous. But it could take some time, an hour, most two. If you can help out, I can pay in cash.”

  Pay in cash.

  Diesel sat straighter in the slider.

  Sixx was a private investigator. She worked in-house at a law firm, but also took on private jobs. He and Maddox had helped out with one when she was on the case of a drug-dealing, flesh-peddling asshole at the Bolt. It had been serious cool, a major high, and they’d done nothing but pass information, give her cover and act as muscle when she needed it.

  Still, it was tons of fun.

  “What’s the job?” he asked.

  “It’s a client for the firm. I need to do a bit of breaking and entering and on-the-spot hacking. It has to be at night. It has to be tomorrow since the person I’m B and E’ing will be otherwise engaged. But the locale is populated and I’m not totally sure when he’s going to come back. So I need someone on the outside while I’m on the inside and my normal backups are otherwise engaged.”

  “I’m in,” he stated immediately.

  “Not a Bolt night?”

  He looked to his knees.

  They’d only been back to the Bolt once since Maddox had worked him with Sixx observing. They usually went two nights a week, the first for D to work Mad, during which he earned his retribution, which would happen the next night.

  After that one time they’d gone, and how disconnected he’d been during that particular shesh, not one of them had even suggested they head to their club and he wasn’t so up his own ass he didn’t know why.

  Molly and Maddox were looking after him.

  They knew the scene before had fucked with him.

  So they weren’t pushing it.

  “Nope,” D said shortly.

  “Cool,” Sixx replied. “We’ll meet up tomorrow. I’ll text you the address. Around eight. Like I said, you should be done at nine, latest ten. That work for you?”

  “Yup. You need Maddox too?” he asked.

  “No, just one of you. Though appreciate the offer.”

  “It’ll be me. You need us again, Maddox can have the next go unless it’s fucking someone up, then I’m calling it.”

  He heard her laugh again and he envisioned her face as he listened.

  She was nearly as pretty as Molly, but in entirely the opposite way. Tall, angular, short hair, all edge.

  “Stellan and me’ll have to have you guys over for dinner sometime soon. I’ll talk to him about it, we’ll set something up,” she said.

  “Look forward to that, and I’m sure Mol and Mad will too.”

  “Great. I’ll let you go and send the addy via text. See you tomorrow.”

  “Right. Tomorrow. Later, Mistress girl.”

  She didn’t sign off.

  She asked, “You doing okay?” in a tone that stated clear she’d somehow read that he was not.

  Diesel took another slug of beer, looking at the yard before he answered with a lie, “Awesome.”

  Sixx didn’t respond for long beats, and when she did she didn’t hide she was thinking he was full of shit.

  She also didn’t push it.

  “Okay, D. Later.”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Tomorrow.”

  With that, he disconnected in case she changed her mind about pushing it, dropping his phone hand to his thigh, lifting his beer hand to his mouth and throwing back another bolt.

  When he took the bottle from his mouth, he held it in front of him, studying it like he’d never seen a bottle of beer before in his life.

  And then it wasn’t the bottle of beer he was seeing.

  It was that ring. Molly in her bridesmaid’s dress. Sunflowers. Molly under him with her auburn hair all over the couch, Maddox at his back with his cock planted inside.

  Maddox over him at the Bolt with his tongue in D’s mouth.

  He blinked hard, pushed himself up and muttered irately, “You gotta get your shit tight, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  And with that, he walked into the house. He went to the kitchen and put his beer and phone on the island.

  Then he walked down the hall.

  He stopped in the door, put his shoulder to the jamb and stood there, watching Maddox moving inside Molly, both of them naked, going at it missionary, her arms around his shoulders, the fingers of one hand cupping the back of his head, her legs around his hips, their mouths as attached and active as their privates.

  It was beautiful, completely. Their nude bodies, their movements, all the ways they were connecting, the noises they were making muted by their kiss.

  They’d be happy without him.

  They’d still have it all . . .

  Without him.

  In tandem, they broke that kiss and turned their heads to look at Diesel.

  “Don’t mind me,” he said quietly.

  “Come here, honey,” Molly urged.

  “Nope,” he said on a gentle smile to their girl.

  “Come here,” Maddox commanded.

  Diesel looked into his eyes.

  “No.”

  He watched those black eyes flash then he watched Molly flatten a hand on the side of Mad’s face, pulling his attention to her.

  “He wants to watch,” she whispered.

  “Whatever,” Maddox muttered irritably, and before Molly could respond to the irritation, he kissed her again.

  He hadn’t stopped moving inside her throughout and he kept doing it, D kept watching, pleasantly feeling himself go from semi-hard to fully erect, until shit got critical.

  Only then did he move forward, toward the bed.

  He gained both their attention but whispered, “Don’t look at me.” />
  Molly shoved Mad’s face in her neck.

  Mad pounded into Molly’s body as her head arched back.

  D sat at the side of the bed below their hips.

  “Hitch a leg,” he ordered quietly.

  Maddox bent a knee, digging it into the mattress, going at her harder.

  Instantly, Molly cried out with her orgasm, her legs visibly tightening their hold on her man.

  That was when Diesel reached in.

  Gripping Mad’s balls, he gave them a squeeze and then he watched, now achingly hard, as Maddox’s back, neck and head arced, his mouth opened, and the sudden sound of the grunting roar of his climax struck the room like a blow.

  “Yes,” Molly breathed as Diesel rhythmically wrung Maddox’s balls dry, Mad finding that rhythm and using it, bucking into Molly with each clasp, a sharp groan accompanying them, mingling with Molly’s whimpers, the dents at the sides of his ass clenching in and releasing along with the tempo.

  Diesel watched, having fallen into it, his hand around those balls, that ass moving, Molly’s legs circling the show. He was so spellbound by it all, Maddox had stopped buried inside their woman, and D kept massaging those balls, holding their weight in his hand, memorizing the feel, what was hitting his eyes.

  He moved his hand and slid it flat along the inside of Mad’s outstretched thigh, then back up, over his ass and along Molly’s shin from ankle to knee, fascinated with the path his touch was taking, the feel of them against his skin.

  Suddenly, his eyes moved from Molly’s knee to Molly’s face and he saw her looking over Maddox’s shoulder to D.

  Mad had his mouth working at her ear.

  But Molly had her gaze locked on D.

  And what he saw in it made him straighten immediately from the bed.

  “I’ll order a pizza,” he declared, striding toward the door.

  “D,” Molly called.

  “Diesel,” Maddox said.

  He ignored them and walked out of the room.

  He had Molly’s laptop open but hadn’t even booted it up when Maddox prowled into the kitchen wearing jeans and nothing else.

  He got close, smack in D’s face, as nose to nose as he could get two inches shorter than Diesel.

  It took a lot out of him, but as Mad invaded his space, D didn’t move a muscle.

  “What the fuck was that?” Maddox growled low.

  “What the fuck was what?” Diesel returned, also quiet.

  “You know what,” Maddox clipped.

  “If I knew what, I wouldn’t ask,” D pointed out.

  Maddox jabbed a finger to the hall that led to their room without taking his eyes off D’s.

  “That.”

  “You tell me you didn’t get off on me squeezing you dry, I’ll call bullshit,” D retorted.

  “We both wanted you in on that,” Maddox shot back.

  “It was your gig.”

  “It’s never our gig, it’s our gig,” Mad snarled.

  Diesel shook his head. “Man, I just got back from the gym where I didn’t fuck around. I wasn’t feelin’ it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not in to watch and maybe lend a hand when the time came, which is what I did.”

  “You got home ten minutes before, took a fuckin’ call and only showed when the festivities were nearing an end.”

  “So?”

  “So, why didn’t you come back when you got home?” Maddox asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “If it didn’t matter, I wouldn’t ask,” Mad used D’s earlier syntax to hurl it back, and Diesel, having a thin hold on his temper, felt it start to prick through.

  “That’s not the first time I wanted nothing but to watch,” Diesel reminded him.

  “I called you in,” Mad reminded D.

  Diesel kept at the trip down recent memory lane. “And I said no.”

  “I own you, Diesel,” Maddox declared. “So that’s not your call.”

  “When I’m not feelin’ it, it’s not your call.”

  “When you’re not feelin’ it, you don’t come to watch and you don’t get so hard, you make an instant fade mark in your jeans,” Maddox fired back. “So it was my call, asshole.”

  That was true.

  Still.

  “What’s up your ass?” Diesel growled.

  “Not you. That’s one thing that wasn’t up my ass,” Maddox replied.

  “You want my cock, drop the jeans and I’ll oblige,” Diesel returned.

  Maddox’s black brows went up and he called him on his earlier lie. “So you’re feelin’ it now?”

  “Fuck you,” Diesel spat.

  They scowled into each other’s eyes and they did this so long, D was concerned Molly’d finish cleaning up and walk in on them.

  It wasn’t like none of them fought. They fought. All of them, Mad and D, Mad and Molly, D and Molly.

  It was just that, out of respect for the one not involved in the fight, they didn’t do it out in the open.

  Suddenly, Maddox backed off, not much but he wasn’t in D’s face anymore.

  He turned his head to the side and D watched a muscle jump up his cheek through his now heavy beard because he hadn’t shaved since Molly was away for the weekend.

  Diesel took in a calming breath and started, “Maddox—”

  Mad turned back to Diesel. “You haven’t fucked me since you bent me over the kitchen table that Saturday morning Molly was in Tucson.”

  He hadn’t?

  Shit.

  No.

  He hadn’t.

  Diesel swallowed.

  He’d taken Maddox’s dick, repeatedly.

  He had not given that back.

  He’d never gone so long without fucking Maddox since . . .

  Hell, he’d never gone that long without fucking Maddox.

  “Buddy,” he said quietly, “I’ll get some food in me, you get some recuperation time, we’ll—”

  Maddox cut him off. “What is it?”

  Diesel felt his head twitch to the side. “What’s what?”

  “You’re deep in your head, D, again, and . . . fuck,” he hissed the last, looking away before looking back again. “I’m here,” he said awkwardly. “You ever wanna talk, I’m . . . uh, here.”

  Diesel stared at him.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to joke that it was hard to miss he was there since Mad was standing right in front of D and a couple of minutes before the man was right in his face.

  Instead he said low, “I checked our accounts, brother, and we don’t have the money for that ring. We don’t even have half of it between the two of us. And it’s that ring. We both know it. Molly has to have that ring. And we can’t afford it.”

  Maddox’s chin jerked slightly into his neck as his black eyes stared unblinking into D’s.

  “You’re thinkin’ about Mol’s ring?”

  “We got a little over six K. Your parents float that loan, we’ll owe them without being able to pay them back for a long fuckin’ time.”

  “They’ll be cool with that, D,” Maddox said.

  “I won’t.”

  Maddox said nothing and he did this studying D.

  Then he nodded. “You’re heard. But just to say, talked to George and he says you can usually get them to swing you a deal. Fifteen percent off, sometimes even twenty.”

  George owned the company Maddox worked at. The man was loaded, his wife dressed like the woman of a man who was rolling in it, so he’d know. And that was good news. If that panned out, that’d help.

  They were still in the hole.

  “We still don’t have enough,” D noted.

  Maddox nodded again. “We’ll think on it. Yeah?”

  Diesel nodded back, thinking a windfall of five hundred dollars in cash from Sixx for two hours of checking the coast was clear would also help, but not much.

  Though if she had other jobs she needed assists with and they paid that kind of cake . . .

  “You better be ordering boneless wings!” Molly cal
led down the hall.

  This was Molly Speak for, “Whatever you two are talking about after Maddox hightailed his ass out of the bedroom after making love to me needs to stop because I’m almost there.”

  She put up with a lot, Molly did, and she did it well, and it was not just shit like doing all their laundry because she had on her hands two men who had no interest in doing it “right” (whatever that was).

  There was a shitload more.

  D turned his attention to the laptop and hit the on button.

  Maddox shifted so he was back to the island, hips resting against it beside D.

  Molly entered the room wearing cute little short shorts in T-shirt fabric that had a pink drawstring and tiny pink hearts on a gray background and a skintight pink tank that clearly showed the lace of her bra. Both of those, with her hair a messy knot on top of her head, a bunch of it falling down her shoulders, swollen lips, rosy cheeks, lazy eyes, otherwise known as Molly’s after-sex face, made D’s dick start feeling it for certain.

  “Buffalo with extra ranch dressing,” she ordered.

  “Gotcha,” D said as she walked right to his side.

  She grabbed hold of his tee at his abs and got on her toes as he turned his head and bent his neck to touch his mouth to hers.

  When he was done, she grinned up at him but the searching look in her eyes made him grin back at her fast then look again to the laptop.

  Out of the sides of his eyes, D caught her scraping her fingernails lightly through the hair on Mad’s chest and going on her toes to get a lip touch from him before she moved away, asking Diesel, “Good workout?”

  “Not as good as yours,” he teased.

  She laughed softly as Diesel pulled up the pizza website.

  He logged in and started clicking through as Molly brought Maddox a beer.

  “God, you’re taking a year doing that,” Molly complained and D turned his head to see her leaning her side into Maddox’s front, facing D, Mad’s arm loose around her waist, her head tipped back to look at Diesel, a grin on her face.

  “Hungry, baby?” he asked.

  “Starving,” she answered.

  He grinned back then turned his attention to the laptop, muttering, “I’ll hurry.”

  “I know you. It might take seven years for you to tap out two fingered, ‘We want extra ranch,’ in the note section,” she complained.