by Dead Moon Rising [Siren Menage Everlasting, American Heroes- South Dakota] (lit)
“That’s because we know how to take care of you.” Del’s tongue traced his lips before thrusting between them, fucking him with his tongue the way he wish he could with his cock.
John grabbed his head, kissing him back hard as he moaned. A moment later he lay still, eyes closed, and a happy, content smile on his face.
Sarah sat up and licked her lips. “That didn’t take long.”
“Damn, I needed that.”
“Yeah, well, I need something else,” Del said.
John cracked open his eyes and crooked his finger at Sarah. “Come here, sweetie. Lay here with me while he has his turn.”
She eagerly changed places with Del, snuggling up with John as Del nudged into position between her thighs after rolling on a condom.
“I missed you, baby,” John said as he kissed her. “You just wait till I’m better, I’ll be riding you all day long and making up for lost time.”
Del took a deep breath, trying to maintain his control. “You keep talking like that, you’ll have me blowing.” He plunged inside her, enjoying her soft moan as her body welcomed him in. “Damn, you’re so wet, baby. You liked going down on him, didn’t you?”
“Duh.” Her laugh turned into another happy moan as he took a hard, deep stroke, his balls slapping against her.
“Let’s see if I can find that sweet spot for you before you make me explode.” She arched her back as he thrust, meeting him stroke for stroke.
John played with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he whispered sexy, dirty things to her. Del felt her body tensing, her pussy fighting to keep his dick inside her, gripping him, creating scorching friction on his already straining cock.
Then he changed the angle of his stroke just a little, making her gasp, and he knew she was close. He pounded into her, holding onto his own control by a thread when she shuddered, her channel spasming around him as John crushed her lips in a deep kiss that swallowed her cries.
“That’s it, baby,” Del said, fucking her harder, deeper, faster, racing to join her. “That’s it!” His balls tightened as he filled the condom. Careful not to hurt John, he lowered his body on top of hers, kissing her, nuzzling her throat. “Jesus, I love you, baby.”
John patted him on the ass, reminding him to go clean up. He returned to their bed a moment later and nudged in on John’s other side, holding him as Sarah reached across him and found his hand.
“I love you guys,” she whispered. “I’m just glad we’re all home.”
Del smiled in the dark, squeezing her hand. “Me too, sweetie.”
John let out a content sigh. “Me three.”
* * * *
Two weeks later, they set out one Saturday afternoon in the Explorer. John sat in the back seat, his leg propped up. Del had already done the research and consulted with the property owner, a man he knew from town, about looking around. He received permission for them to explore.
Sarah worried, because while she felt Robbie’s energy around the house, she hadn’t been able to talk to him like she did before. In a way, she missed that.
They drove through a gate, closing it again behind them, and slowly made their way across a pasture to a small creek. The house and barn were long gone, demolished decades earlier when the land was bought and a new house and barn constructed closer to what had become the main road.
Del put the Explorer in park and turned to her. “Well, honey? What do you want to do?”
She looked around, feeling with her mind. “Stay here.” She climbed out and walked down to the creek. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
“Where is it?”
Suddenly, Robbie stood before her, smiling. He grabbed her hand and led her a few yards down the creek bank to a small copse of trees. There, a large, flat rock lay.
He pointed. “There.”
She dropped to her knees and dug with her bare hands. The rock, embedded in the dirt, didn’t want to move at first. Over the years, it had nearly been covered over. After a few minutes of digging, she managed to get her fingers under it and lift.
All she saw was dirt. She looked up at him.
“You gotta dig,” he insisted. “It’s there.”
She started digging, scratching at the soil with her bare hands, and just a few inches under the dirt she found a rusted tin can. Working carefully, she gently extricated the crumbling metal and found a rotted leather pouch inside.
After moving away from the dirt, into a patch of low grass in the sun, she separated the remains of the can from the pouch, and gently pulled the pouch apart.
Inside, ready to play, lay twenty-nine marbles, including two large shooters.
Robbie grinned and knelt beside her. “See?” He picked one up, clear with blue streaks. “I won this one off Jeremy Smith after church one day.” He picked up another. “This one was my favorite aggie.” His smile turned sad when he picked up a third. “This one was my brother’s. I took it from his stash after he took one of mine.” He looked at her. “He missed me something fierce. Blamed himself for years.”
She felt a chill even the warm, sunny South Dakota afternoon couldn’t displace. “Will this happen again? You said they come back.”
He shrugged as he put the marble down. “Prob’ly. There’s always gonna be another dead moon rising. He was right about that. It’s already been born again. Spirits come and go, souls come and go. Bad ones seem tied to certain places sometimes. That was one of them. Nothing you can do about it. He’s been here before, and he’ll be here long after y’all are gone.”
“Then why are you still here? Why weren’t you reborn?”
“I had a job to do.” He smiled. “And now I have a new home, since you found me and released me. I can move on with you. I don’t need to hang around there no more.” He held her hand and squeezed. “You don’t mind me hanging around, do you, Sarah?”
“No. I don’t mind. I like having you around. But what about when he comes back?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I’d rather stay with you.”
“Sarah.” The sound of Del’s voice made her look up, breaking the spell. When she blinked and looked around, Robbie was gone. Del stood a few feet away, hands in his jean pockets and concern on his face. “You all right, honey?”
She nodded and looked down at the marbles. “I found them.” She saw the imprint of two small feet in the grass where Robbie had stood next to her. She reached out and touched them. “He showed me right where they were.”
“You want a few more minutes alone?”
“No. I’m ready to go home.” She pulled a plastic zip-top storage bag from her pocket, where she put everything, the can, the remnants of the pouch, the marbles. Del stepped over and offered her a hand up. She walked over to the creek and rinsed the dirt off her hands before following him back to the Explorer.
* * * *
Sarah looked out the kitchen window at the backyard, now blanketed with snow.
John came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s only a week after Halloween.”
“It’ll probably be gone in a few days. It’s too soon to stick this early in the fall.”
“Will Del be okay out there?”
“Oh, yeah. This is nothing. He’s used to this.”
She worried about him every shift despite John’s gentle reassurances, even knowing most of his day dealt with traffic citations and not psychopathic killers.
Sunlight played through Robbie’s marbles, which sat in a decorative jar in the windowsill. Sometimes she’d come in first thing in the morning to catch sight of him standing there and staring at them. Sometimes they were arranged differently in the jar from when she’d left them.
A knock on the front door pulled her from her thoughts. “There he is. Want me to get the door?” They were expecting a client, a local resident who wanted John to build him a new website for his insurance business.
“No, I’ll get it.” John left her in the kitchen. After a moment, he called out to her. “Honey, come here, please.”
She walked out, surprised to find Uncle Eddie standing there. She’d never returned to Miami after the final showdown, not wanting to leave her men, especially when John needed so much help getting around in the beginning.
With a happy squeal, she ran to him for a hug. “There’s my Sar-Bear,” Uncle Eddie said. “Goddamn, what the hell is this white stuff on the ground? Sure ain’t beach sand.”
“What are you doing here?”
John grinned. “It’s an early Christmas surprise for you, babe. Del and I invited him out for the holidays.”
“Gonna be here past New Year’s, if you can stand me that long. Got the rest of your stuff in my trunk, too. Decided to drive, but I don’t know how practical that convertible’s gonna be here in snow country.”
She let out another happy squeal and hugged him again. “Heck yeah, I can stand you longer than that!”
After Del returned home from his shift, the four of them had a sit-down family dinner. Stuffed, Eddie pushed back from the table and let out a sigh as he patted his ample stomach. “I think I’m full.” Then he frowned, looking out one of the front windows.
“What’s wrong?” Del asked.
“There’s a little boy out on your front porch.”
The three of them smiled, and as one said, “That’s Robbie.”
“He—” Eddie’s mouth snapped shut. “He’s gone now.” He looked at Sarah. “That’s your ghost?”
She glanced out the window, but didn’t see Robbie even though she felt him. Tonight, a beautiful full moon would throw blue and white shadows off the snow. “Yeah. That’s our ghost.”
Later that night, when the three of them were snuggled tightly together in bed, Sarah lay there and tried not to think about the mother and baby she’d seen in the grocery store that morning. A beautiful, chubby-cheeked boy just a couple of months old.
When Sarah asked how old he was, it was all she could do not to scream when she found out he’d been born the same afternoon Tom Davies died in her basement.
She hadn’t told the men. She didn’t want to contemplate that one day, long ago, Tom Davies had been a cute, chubby-cheeked baby himself, even though he grew up to murder, by the best guess of law enforcement based upon evidence they uncovered, over twenty people.
Didn’t want to think about the fact that there would always be another dead moon rising. Didn’t want to remember Robbie’s words that they came back.
They can’t help themselves.
Closing her eyes, she forced herself to focus on the comforting sound of the soft, deep breaths of her men sleeping next to her as she drifted into a peaceful, dreamless slumber of her own.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Macy Largo loves hunky men, happily ever afters, and hazelnut coffee. Get between her and any of those three things, and you risk your life. Her real-life hunky hubby inspires many of her fictional fantasies, which she’s more than happy to share with readers. You can visit her website at http://www.macylargo.com
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