Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

Home > Romance > Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance) > Page 49
Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance) Page 49

by Vivian Ward


  With his arousal growing, I can tell he’s getting close. It doesn’t take much before I can feel him beginning to swell as his balls tighten.

  “Oh, god, baby!” thick, ropey strands of cum land on my tongue as his cock pulsates in my mouth.

  Satisfied with my handiwork, I spit into the drain and rinse my mouth with clean shower water, smiling at him the entire time.

  “I don’t know what you do, but I think you can do some voodoo shit to me when I’m with you.”

  Voodoo. Witchcraft. Black magic.

  Those are the things that Zack always says to me, and it doesn’t sound right coming from Trent. It’s like it’s wrong for him to say it.

  I can’t get Zack out of my head, and this doesn’t help. It doesn’t help to hear Trent saying things like his brother.

  A coy smile takes over my face, but it’s not sincere. I don’t mean it at all. I quickly shower and get out, dressing as fast as possible.

  For some reason, I feel dirty—but I shouldn’t.

  I’ve always said that I wouldn’t get involved with the Richardson boys, but here I am, and I need to make a commitment. I need to choose to be with Trent; the good brother.

  But for some reason, I can’t do it. Not yet.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I’ve put this man through hell. Made him chase me for years, then tempted fate by working with his brother and now that I’ve finally got him back, I still can’t commit to him.

  “Ready, babe?” he asks, fastening his cufflinks.

  “Yeah, but I think I’m going to drive myself home. I still have my dad’s car, and I think he might need it this afternoon.”

  “Babe,” he pouts. His hands slowly wrap around my waist before he pulls me to him. “But what about breakfast? I want to buy you some.”

  “It’s okay; I’ll be okay. You should get going to work, and I’ll talk to you later.”

  Chapter 16

  Since I’m no longer part of the underground activity that I was doing with Zack, I figure it’s best if I find some work until I decide what I’m going to do with my winnings.

  I also need to buy a car, but first I’m going to send out a few resumés.

  Getting out of the card counting business is a good thing. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

  I’m lucky that nothing happened to me while I was doing it. These past couple of months have been crazy. They’ve also been fun and exciting. I can see why Zack likes living on the edge. There’s something dangerous and exciting about doing it.

  Makes you feel like you’re living.

  With all of my credit cards and bills paid off, things will be much easier and I still have plenty of money in the bank. I just need to be discreet about it when I go shopping for a car. I don’t want my dad or Trent asking how I could afford an expensive car when I’ve been out of work for the better part of a year.

  Having lunch with my dad, I decide to ask him to take me car shopping to get him out of the house and give us some time to hang out, bond a little.

  “Hey dad,” I begin. “Do you think you could take me to look at cars this afternoon? I mean, if you don’t have anything else to do.”

  He cocks an eyebrow and smiles at me.

  “I feel like you’re a teenager all over again. My baby needs her daddy to take her to look at cars.”

  I smile back and take a bite of my sandwich.

  “Yes, I’ll take my little girl out to look at cars. What did you have in mind? There’s a good used car dealer up the street, or I can take you to the dealership to look at some certified pre-owns. You’ll get a better deal that way, but I don’t know what your finances look like.”

  “Yeah, I think that’ll be a magnificent idea. Take me to look at the pre-owns. I have a feeling I’ll find a job soon enough.”

  “You got it, baby.”

  After lunch, dad took his daily medicine regimen and promptly waited for me in the car when he was finished. I think he’s more excited than I am to go car shopping.

  On the car lot, he’s pretty quiet trailing behind the salesman who’s showing me the best deals on the lot, but none of them suit me. To be honest, I don’t like anything they’ve got.

  “What exactly are you interested in?” the salesman asks, hopeful that he’ll have something he can make some commission off of.

  I shake my head.

  “I’m not sure, maybe something within the last year, something silver,” I squint my eyes and use my hand as a makeshift visor to keep the sun out of my vision.

  He thinks for a moment, scanning the lot.

  “I don’t know if you’re interested, but I have an SUV. It might be more than you’re looking to spend, though. It’s this year’s model, but it is a pre-owned because it was a rental car for the first half of the year, but it has low miles. Would you like to look at it?”

  “It can’t hurt.”

  The three of us stroll across the lot, making our way to this SUV that he’s going on about when I see it. It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but I like it.

  “Now, this Pathfinder only has 14,000 miles on it, and it’s in excellent condition,” he says as we walk up to it.

  The inside looks like it has enough space, but I get in to try it out.

  I like the seats; they’re comfy, and I have plenty of leg room. I’m totally inhaling the new car smell; I love it.

  “Get in, dad. Tell me what you think.”

  Watching him walk in front of the car, I play with some of the knobs and check things out.

  “How much is this?” I ask.

  “This one is,” he checks the sticker in the rear side window. “$22,500.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it,” he laughs.

  “Maybe we should look at some other options,” I suggest. “How much are one of these new?”

  “New? They go for about $30,000, depending on the options.”

  “Let’s look at something else. I like SUV’s, though so let’s go with those. They have enough space, I think, which I like.”

  My dad grabs my arm.

  “Do you know what you’re doing? Don’t buy something you can’t afford.”

  “Dad, it’s fine,” I whisper.

  We follow the man across the lot to the New Sales department where he can show me more vehicles because there’s a bigger selection to go by than what they have for people’s trade-ins.

  “There are a couple of models that I think you’ll like. Let me show you a few, and then you can tell me what you think.”

  “What do you have in mind?” I ask.

  “We have the Lexus NS, the Buick Envision, and the Land Rover Discovery Sport. They’re all different in their own way, but they have the space that you’d like and many of today’s favorite features.”

  My dad looks worried as I look at the cars and check out their interiors, but I keep giving him reassuring gestures to let him know that I can afford it.

  I know he’s just looking out for me because when I first arrived here, I was broke and since I’ve been ‘out of work’ for what feels like forever, he probably thinks I’m living off of pennies.

  “I think I like the Land Rover,” I tell the salesman. “Can I take it out for a test drive with my father so I can see how it handles?”

  “Sure. Do you have your license of it so I can make a copy of it?”

  “Yes,” I pull it out of my wallet. “Here you go.”

  He takes my license and brings it back with the keys to the SUV.

  On the road, I try to set my dad’s mind at ease and let him know that I can afford it.

  “Look, baby, I know you’re a big girl, but I think you might be getting in over your head. Do you have any idea how high your payments will be?”

  “Dad, I promise, it’s going to be okay. I can do this. I’m using the money from my savings account, and besides, I’m bound to find something soon. Look how long I’ve been back home, looking for work. Surely, someone will hir
e me soon.”

  “I just worry about you, you know.”

  “I know, dad, and I appreciate it. Thank you.”

  Not wanting to raise any eyebrows at the dealership, I write a check to cover the downpayment and intend to pay it off once I get my online account set up.

  Leaving the dealership, I feel like a million bucks. I’ve got my man back, we’re finally over things, I’ve got a new, nice car and don’t have to borrow my dad’s anymore, but somehow, there’s still a nagging feeling that’s tugging at me.

  I know what it is, or rather, who it is.

  Zack.

  I kind of miss him and things ended badly between us, and I don’t like it. I never meant for things to happen and spiral out of control as they did, and I want to make things right between us.

  If I can do it with Trent, then why can’t I do it with Zack?

  I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, but I’ve got to do it.

  I send him a text.

  I miss you. ☹️

  Two days go by, and I don’t hear anything back from him. I guess I really hurt him, and all I want to do is make things better between us.

  Trent and I have put it all behind us; now I just need Zack to get on board, too.

  He changed my life so much after we reunited. If it weren’t for him, I would have my fancy, new car and I sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to pay anything off.

  On the other hand, I also would have searched much harder for a job and put myself out there in the real world.

  And then there’s Trent. Who knows how our relationship would be now if it weren’t for the snag that tore us apart, even if it was temporary.

  I guess I should be grateful for the little bit of time that we had together. We were high rollers together, making a great team, and we had a lot of fun doing it.

  It’s just that I never thought I’d miss his smile so much, or holding his hand when we walked through dark alleys on our way to the next underground casino, or the way he could make me laugh.

  The third night after sending him the text message, I receive a text from his phone, but it doesn’t sound anything like him at all.

  Drunk at Mack’s. Get down here now.

  What the hell is that supposed to mean?

  I call him, but there’s so much background noise that it’s hard to understand anything, but I swear another woman answers the phone.

  “Hello?” I say, sounding a little more defensive than I mean to. “Who is this?”

  There’s inaudible noise that I can’t make out, and then I hear her again.

  “No, stop him.”

  Without any hesitation, I hang up the phone and rush down the stairs, determined to head to Mack’s. It’s a small corner bar on the South Side near the brewery where they have karaoke. It’s usually a pretty chill place, so I can’t imagine him being in too much trouble, but then again, this is Zack, so anything’s possible.

  When I get there, he’s walking up on the stage with a microphone in one hand and a drink in the other. How he’s standing, much less walking, is beyond me, but he sees me as I stand in the back of the crowd who is booing him, telling him to get down off the stage.

  Our eyes meet, and his cold stare causes me to freeze in place.

  He puts the mic up to his mouth and begins slurring his words.

  “No, no,” he says to the DJ. “Scratch my request. I’ve got a different song I think I want to sing.” He looks dead at me. “Play, uh, Love Hurts by Nazareth. Yeah, pull that shit up.”

  The song begins to play, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of me, not even for a second. Most of the people quiet down to let him have his five minutes in the spotlight, and when they do, a woman approaches me.

  “Are you Joline?”

  Surprised that she knows who I am, I’m almost afraid to admit it, but I end up giving myself away by not answering.

  “You’ve got to do something about him,” she says. “He’s been here rambling on and on about you all night. I tried to send him home in a cab, but he refuses to leave. Can you take him home before he gets his ass kicked?”

  “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

  She puts her hand out to shake mine.

  “Becka, I work here.”

  I look over at the bar to see who’s tending it and see a short, skinny guy behind the counter wiping things down.

  “He’s my co-worker.”

  Looking back at her, I’m confused as to how she knows who I am.

  “How did you know I’m Joline?”

  “Your picture. It’s set in his contacts on his cell phone,” she shouts over the loud music and Zack’s drunkenness.

  On the stage, he’s slurring his words, and he’s on the verse that talks about some fools fool themselves and he’s pounding on his chest as he sings it.

  While the song plays on, he begins pouring his heart out on the stage and is dangerously close to stepping off the edge of it if he doesn’t watch it.

  Everyone in the crowd can tell that his eyes are fixated on one person—me—and they begin looking to the back of the bar to see who it is. My cheeks heat up and I feel so embarrassed. I just want the song to end so I can get him off that stage and get him home.

  When the song is over, he drops the purposely drops the mic on the stage and the crowd cheers as he walks down the steps on the edge of the platform.

  “Come on, Zack. It’s time to get you home,” I say to him as he walks up to me.

  “Get me home? Are you coming home with me?” he smiles, wavering his finger in front of me.

  The overpowering smell of alcohol on his breath is almost enough to knock me back a step, but I stay firmly planted near the door.

  “I’m not playing games. It’s time to leave. I’ll drive you.”

  “Good luck with that,” he says. “They took my keys.”

  “It’s fine. I bought a car; I’ll take you home.”

  What should have been an easy task of getting him in my car is anything but that. It’s like arguing with a toddler and trying to strap in a tired, cranky two-year-old. He’s laughing and flailing his whole body everywhere, making it almost impossible to buckle him up, but eventually I accomplish it and drive him home.

  Inside his apartment, things take on a life of their own.

  As soon as we’re in his apartment, he shuts the door and pins me down on the couch in his living room.

  “What? What are you doing? Let me up,” I protest, struggling to break free.

  “No, you’re not going anywhere. Not this time.”

  “What do you mean? Come on! Get off of me, you’re drunk and don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Trying to wiggle out from under him is almost impossible. He must be a good 220 pounds of solid muscle and he feels incredibly heavy on top of me.

  “Admit it, Joline. You want me just as much as you want my brother. I know you do.”

  “Zack, don’t say that.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it? I bet when you’re riding his dick, you think about me. You probably dream about me, too. Don’t you?”

  “No, I think—,” he cuts me off.

  “Don’t think I can’t see it in your eyes. I can feel it when we’re together.”

  His breathing is hard and fast. I can feel the bulge growing in his pants, and I don’t know what it is, but it’s turning me on. Just like it did at the wedding reception when the two of them were arguing over me.

  Just like it has every night we’ve spent together at the underground casinos, and when we’ve hung out at his apartment, and when we do…well, anything.

  I find myself thinking about what his rising dick would feel like inside of me. I already know what his brother’s feels like, but what about his?

  “You can’t deny it, not even if you wanted to.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I say.

  “Don’t you think your actions spoke volumes when my brother found us at the bar together? How long did it take him to forgive you
anyway? One night? Two nights? Till the next time you put his dick between those sweet lips of yours?”

  “Zackary! Stop it!”

  Before I can say another word, his mouth comes crashing down on mine, completely covering it as his tongue invades my mouth. Hot, fast lashes of his tongue flick against mine and his hips thrust forward, pushing his hard on deep against my stomach.

  He wants me to feel it.

  “I can smell it. You’re practically getting wet for me,” he says, breaking our kiss.

  I’m pissed off and embarrassed. He’s right, and I’m ashamed that he knows it.

  My panties are wet. Soaking wet.

  If I’m being honest, I’d have to admit that I’ve missed his touch, his smell, and everything about him.

  For a second, I wonder what he would do if I freed my hand and used it to grab his cock. I know he’d like it.

  “I don’t want you,” I shake my head for emphasis.

  But I’m lying.

  Lying, lying, lying.

  “Let me go, Zack. I’m with your brother, and you know it.”

  “What if I told you that I don’t care if you’re with my brother? I don’t mind sharing.” He leans down and kisses me tenderly. “At least, not for a while. I’d like to fuck you once. Just one time to have you for myself.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  I want him too, but it can’t happen. It mustn’t happen.

  What the hell is wrong with me? He just insulted my relationship with his brother and told me that he wants me for himself. I should be angry, but all it does is make my panties more wet.

  “And if you’re a good girl like you always are, I might even give it to you a couple of times before you go back to my brother. I’ll make you so fucking sore that you won’t be able to close your legs for a few days.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re drunk.”

  My body tries to squirm away from him, but there’s a lack of will behind it.

  “Look at you,” he says pinning me in place. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. He’s such a lucky bastard to have you, but I still want you for myself.”

  He lets go of my wrist and slides his hands down the front of my pants, making a path inside of my panties. His fingertips slowly circle my clit before he strokes my wetness and pulls his finger to his mouth, sucking my juices off of himself.

 

‹ Prev