by Katee Robert
Grayson snorts. “Probably sooner, rather than later.”
“And what about events for work and all the shit that goes with raising a kid. You don’t think people are going to notice that there are three of us?”
I shake my head slowly. “Derek.”
“What?”
“Since when do you give a fuck what anyone else thinks? If we make it work, if we’re happy, then the rest of the world can jump off a bridge for all I care. Our household is the only thing that matters.”
His shoulders slump a little. “It won’t be that simple.”
“No, probably not.” Grayson shrugs. “But we won’t know until we try.” He hesitates the briefest of moments. “Do you want to try?”
Derek leans forward and props his elbows on his thick thighs. “Yes. I want to try.”
The air seems to rush out of the room. We stare at each other for a long moment before Derek continues. “I can’t go back to being on the outside looking in. This wasn’t the plan I had for my life, the partner and equivalent of white picket fence and kids and dog and all that shit. But if I haven’t found someone who can compare to the two of you in the last eight years, I’m not going to be able to.” He shakes his head. “No, that’s a fucking copout. I don’t want anyone but you two. I…love you both.”
“Come here.” Grayson’s voice is rougher than normal.
Derek rises and walks around the coffee table. We part for him to sit between us, and it seems the most natural thing in the world to bracket him in and press against him from either side. I slip under his arm and cuddle close. “I love you, too.”
“We both do,” Grayson murmurs.
“This is a terrible idea. You know that, right?” Derek looks between us.
I laugh and give him a squeeze. “We’ll find our way through.”
We begin talking almost hesitantly, but settling into the conversation quickly. What it will look like for us to try. How we can adapt our lives to accommodate for three. If things go well, maybe Derek will move in with us before too long, though that will mean a larger apartment. Maybe a house with a yard and the full nine yards. Kids. Kids.
But all that is in the future.
My alarm goes off at eleven-thirty. Derek looks at me with surprise, but Grayson is grinning. He nudges his friend. “Emma’s superstitious about New Year’s Eve.”
I push to my feet. “It’s as much tradition as superstition and you know it.” I hold out my hand to Derek. “I’m a firm believer in starting the year how you intend to move through it, and I want this year to be the three of us.”
Derek snorts. “So that’s what you two are doing at midnight every year.”
“Guilty.” Grayson stands. “And now it’s the three of us.”
Chapter 18
We move into the bedroom and I light a few carefully placed candles while they undress. I turn in time for Derek to pull me into his arms as Grayson moves to press against my back. They undress me as quickly as they undressed each other, and then the three of us are pressed together, skin to skin. I want to hurry and I want to slow down, and the warring impulses nearly tear me in two.
Grayson twines his fingers through my hair and I eagerly give in to the slight pressure that guides me to my knees. I wrap a fist around Derek’s cock and take him into my mouth. Was it really only six days ago that we had sex? It feels like forever. I suck him down, driven on by Grayson’s hand in my hair, by Derek’s soft curse.
I open my eyes to find them making out as I suck Derek’s cock. I grip Grayson’s cock with my free hand and move to suck him down. They allow me to switch back and forth a few times before Derek hauls me to my feet and takes the few steps to get us on the bed. He kisses me hard. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
Grayson presses against Derek’s back and kisses his neck. “We don’t have much time if Emma want us fucking by midnight.”
I’m already nodding. “I do. I really, really do. We can go slow later.”
Derek chuckles. “Always so ready to jump the gun. We have plenty of time.” He moves down my body. I try to pull him back up, but he’s so much stronger than I am. A thrill goes through me at how easily he ignores my tugging hands. I meet my husband’s gaze as Derek drags his tongue over my pussy.
This is happening. He’s here, really with us, really choosing us.
Grayson grins at me, looking happier than he has all week. He turns his attention to Derek. “Make her come. Then you can fuck her tight, wet pussy while I take your ass.”
Derek growls his agreement against me. But he doesn’t speed up. He takes his time reacquainting himself with my pussy, licking in thorough strokes that leave no part of me untouched. It’s so, so good. I feel fucking cherished, and the way Grayson sifts his fingers through Derek’s hair and guides him up to my clit only compounds the sensation.
This is real.
I try to hold out. I do. But the realization that I can have this whenever I want it, that this is the start of a new chapter in all our relationship… It pushes me over the edge as surely as Derek’s wicked tongue does. Mine. These men are mine and I’m theirs and I’ve never felt more loved than I do in this moment.
Derek moves up my body and guides his cock into me. One inch at a time, sliding deeper by increments until we’re sealed together. He frames my face with his big hands and looks down at me with his heart in his eyes. “I love you. I didn’t say it before because I’m a fucking asshole, but it’s the truth.” He glances at Grayson as my husband approaches with a bottle of lube in his hand. “You already know I love you, but I’m saying it again now.”
“I know.” He sees the look on my face and bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, Emma. You should appreciate the reference.”
“Not right now.”
Grayson sobers. “I love you too, Derek. Always have. This is just a new level of it.”
I glance at the clock. “Hurry.”
Derek thrusts into me, temporarily distracting me. “I like your superstitions, baby.”
“You’re about to get fucked by Grayson while you fuck me, so I just bet you do.”
He chuckles against my neck, but the sound turns to a moan as Grayson moves behind him. I don’t have to see clearly to know that he’s working his way into Derek’s ass. Then they begin to move, or maybe it’s Grayson who’s moving, his fucking causing Derek to fuck in turn. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how perfect this is. The weight of them keep me pinned to the bed, helpless to do anything but take what’s given.
As the clock strikes twelve, Grayson reaches around Derek’s hip and strokes my clit with his thumb. Slowly. Teasingly. Like he wants this moment of pleasure to last as long as possible before we lose control.
Somewhere in the distance a cheer goes up and there are fireworks, but they’re nothing compared to what’s happening right here, right now. I kiss Derek, giving myself over to the feeling of him filling me so perfectly, to Grayson’s thumb moving in tandem with his strokes, working me closer and closer to orgasm.
It hits me between one heartbeat and the next, washing away every last bit of bad feeling that clung to me after this last week. None of it matters now. We’re here. We’re doing this. We’re starting something new and wonderful and hope is a beautiful thing in my chest.
Derek follows me over the edge, driving into me and coming with a low curse that curls my toes. He slumps onto me, barely managing to get himself braced on his elbows to keep some of his weight off me. Not that I care. I want to be smothered with both of them right now. His body moves easily with Grayson’s increasingly rough thrusts. It has me writhing around his softening cock despite my best efforts. “Oh fuck.”
Grayson’s laugh is strained. “Again, baby? You’re so greedy.” He doesn’t stop stroking my clit, doesn’t stop fucking Derek.
I don’t know if I come again, or if it’s just a second wave of the last orgasm. It doesn’t matter. Grayson shudders and his grip
on Derek’s shoulder goes white-knuckled. I swear I actually hear him come on Derek’s back. Grayson presses a kiss to his neck and eases back. “Don’t move.”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”
My husband disappears into our bathroom and returns a few moments later with a washcloth. He takes his time wiping up his mess and then smiles down at us. “Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year,” I murmur.
Derek eases out of me and moves to my side. “Get rid of that and get back here. I have six days of missing out on you two to make up for.”
Grayson’s smile widens. “I am so fucking happy that you’re here, Derek.”
A few minutes later, we’re all in bed together. It feels more perfect than I could have imagined. To be pressed between them, our hands wandering over each other’s bodies, followed by mouths. Followed by more fucking.
We finally manage to get some sleep sometime before dawn. I open my eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the windows. We forgot to close the curtains.
Derek lays sprawled out on our bed, his hand wedged firmly between my thighs as if he couldn’t resist touching me even in sleep. Grayson is pressed against his back, his shock of dark hair barely visible at the curve where Derek’s wide shoulders meet his neck.
I don’t know what the future holds. I know there will be challenges and difficulties just like there always are, but I have utter faith that we’ll be able to see our way through. We have so much history of friendship with Derek, it almost feels like he’s slipped seamlessly into our life.
Happiness bubbles up inside me and I scoot closer to Derek. Grayson’s hand comes around his waist and strokes my hip. Yes. This is so incredibly perfect, only made more so by the knowledge that it doesn’t end with the rising sun.
We can have this happiness, this joy, this perfection.
Forever.
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Looking for a little more taboo in your life? Check out the first book in this series, Your Dad Will Do. When Lily catches her fiancé cheating on her, she decides to get revenge…by banging his dad. After this weekend, her ex won’t be the only one calling his father Daddy.
Keep reading to get a look at their story!
How does one go about seducing their almost-father-in-law? I really, truly do not recommend doing an internet search. The results are heavy on porn and light on answers. In the end, I’m left to my own devices.
That’s how I end up on his front porch in a short black dress and thigh-highs in the middle of January, well after the polite hours of visiting. I’m shaking as I knock on the door, and it’s not purely because the icy wind makes my clothing feel like a laughable barrier.
Despite the late hour, he’s awake. My breath catches in my throat as the door opens to reveal him. Shane. The man who, up until a few days ago, was supposed to be my father-in-law. Funny how quickly things change when you least expect it. Or not so funny at all. I sure as hell don’t feel like laughing.
He fills the doorway, a large man with broad shoulders, big hands, and a smattering of salt and pepper in his hair. He’s in his late forties, some twenty-ish years older than me. Shane frowns as recognition slips over his handsome face. “Lily? What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping we could talk.” I have to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. Maybe I should have gone with the trench coat route. At least then I’d have a coat.
To his credit, Shane doesn’t make me wait. He moves out of the way and holds the door open so I can walk past him. The first blast of warmth makes me shiver again. Maybe if I hadn’t stood out there for so long, gathering my courage, I wouldn’t be so cold now.
“What did he do?”
I blink and stop trying to rub feeling back into my fingertips. “Excuse me?”
“My asshole son. What’s he done now?” He catches my hand and lifts it between us. My ring finger is markedly empty. Shane skates his thumb across the bare skin, still frowning. Now my shivers have very little to do with temperature and everything to do with desire.
It’s yet another indication of the many ways that my relationship with Max wasn’t operating on all cylinders. His freaking father can do more with a single swipe of his thumb than Max was ever interested in doing with his entire body. Then again, Max and I only ever had polite, friendly sex—which was not what I found him doing with his secretary when I showed up unexpectedly at his office. It’s not what I suspect he was doing with the others I suspect came before her.
I don’t want to get into it right now. I’ve already had four days of tears and raging with my girlfriends, but if I start talking about how I found Max fucking his secretary like the biggest goddamn cliché in existence, I’m going to start crying again.
That’s not why I’m here.
I’m here for revenge—and maybe a little pleasure, too, though the pleasure rates a distant second in priorities.
“Shane.” I say his name slowly. In all the time I dated Max, I called him Mr. Alby. A necessary distance between us, a reminder of what he was to me—only ever my boyfriend’s father. I rip down that distance now and stare up at him, letting him see the pent up emotions I’ve spent two long years ignoring and denying.
I’ve spent two long years ignoring a whole lot.
Shane’s dark eyes go wide and then hot before he shutters his response, locking himself up tight. But, almost as if he can’t resist, he swipes the pad of his thumb over my bare ring finger again. “Tell me what happened.”
“We’re over.” My voice catches, and I hate that it catches. “No going back, no crossing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars. Really, really over.”
He nods slowly and then gives my hand a squeeze. “Sounds like you could use a drink.”
“I could use about ten, but one’s a good place to start.” At least he isn’t kicking me out. That’s a good sign, right? I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he opens the liquor cabinet and picks through the bottles.
He barely glances at me. “Vodka, right?”
“Yes.” Of course he remembers my drink. I bet, if pressed, he also remembers my birthday and a whole host of other details that slip past most people, including my ex.
But then, Shane isn’t most people.
Heat melts into my bones as he methodically puts together a drink for each of us. I don’t know what to do with my hands once I don’t need them for warmth, and the coziness of the temperature is a vivid reminder of just how little I’m wearing. My dress is barely long enough to cover the tops of my thigh-highs and while I’m wearing a garter belt, I have nothing else on beneath the thin fabric of the dress. I’m dressed slutty and downright scandalous and Shane has barely looked at me since I walked through the door.
That won’t do. That won’t do at all.
He finishes with the drinks and I gather what’s left of my courage and close the distance between us, sliding between him and the counter to reach for the glass. Just like that, he’s at my back, his hips against my ass. “Thank you,” I say over my shoulder.
He inhales sharply, but doesn’t move back. “What are you doing, Lily?”
His lack of retreat gives me a little more strength. Just enough to sip the drink and then turn slowly to face him. I have to lean back over the counter to meet his gaze, and a thrill goes through me as he forces me to make the adjustments. He might as well be made from stone. I tip my chin up. “I have a question.”
“Ask it.”
“Last summer, you and Max were supposed to be working, so I was here at the pool.” I can barely catch my breath. “No one was around so I didn’t bother with a suit.”
“Mmm.” The barely banked heat in his gaze is back, flaring hotter by the second. He still hasn’t moved, either to press against me or to r
etreat. “That’s not a question.”
I lick my lips. “It felt wicked to be out there naked, knowing I was in your house even if you weren’t here. I…” This part’s harder, but his nearness gives me a boost of bravado. “I started touching myself. I felt like such a little slut, but that made it hotter.”
He’s breathing harder now, and he reaches around me to grasp the counter on either side of my hips. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s not anything you don’t already know,” I whisper. “You were upstairs. I saw you watch me through the master window.” I reach behind me to the counter just inside his hands. The move arches my back and puts my breasts almost within touching distance of his chest. “I didn’t know you were there when I started, but once I knew you were watching me, I took my time and dragged it out. I wanted you to watch. I wanted you to do more than watch.” The last I’ve never admitted to myself, let alone out loud, but it’s the truth. “Do you remember that?”
He exhales harshly. “You don’t know what you saw.”
“Okay.” I’m shaking like a leaf. “My mistake.”
Shane still doesn’t move away. “Even if I came home for lunch unexpectedly that day, you were dating my son.” He shifts forward the barest amount, closing in on me. “It would be fucked up if I stood in my master bedroom while you fingered that pretty little pussy. I’d be a monster to have watched the entire thing and fucked my hand while I pretended it was you.”
“Shane,” I say his name like a secret, just between us. “I’m not dating your son right now.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He shakes his head slowly. “You came here with a purpose, but you don’t get to throw yourself at me without sharing the truth. Out with it, Lily. What did Max do?”
I really, really don’t want to talk about it, but the sheer closeness of him makes my verbal brakes disappear. I find myself answering without having any intention of doing so. “He slept with his secretary. I think he wanted me to catch him. Either that, or he’s just really shitty as hiding it when he’s up to no good.” Except that’s not the full truth, but admitting that I think he’s been cheating on me for months and months feels lke admitting that I’m a fool. What kind of fiancé just swallows the lies whole and doesn’t question it when things don’t quite line up?