Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

by Vivian Ward

  “And you taste so fucking good. You’re so fucking perfect,” he says.

  “That’s it! I’ve had enough,” I buck my hips. This time there’s some will and determination behind it. “Good night, Zack.”

  Chapter 17

  When I get home, I can’t help but feel dirty and slimy. I can’t seem to get him out of my mind and the guilt is eating me up.

  I know that I didn’t ask for him to say any of those things to me, but the worst part is that I wanted all of them to happen.

  For one night, I wanted to be his, let him fuck me and have his way with me. I wanted to believe that he thinks I’m gorgeous and perfect. I wanted all of it to be true.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I’m almost afraid to see who it is.

  It’s Trent. Glancing at the corner of my phone, I see that it’s nearly midnight.

  He wants me to come over.

  During the drive over to his place, all I can think about is Zack and how hard he was, and how turned on I was by him.

  My panties are still damp with my wetness, reminding me of all the dirty thoughts that were racing through my head as he pressed himself against me on his couch.

  Damn it, Joline. Pull yourself together.

  When I get to Trent’s house, I find him waiting for me on the porch—something he has never done. Ever.

  Shit. Does he know what happened earlier?

  I’m almost too scared to get out of my SUV, but I don’t want to raise any suspicions he might have so I go ahead and get out.

  Making my way up the steps, I start talking to him. Probably from guilt.

  “Hey, baby,” I say. “I was thinking about you and—,” before I can finish my sentence, he swoops me off of my feet and carries me inside the house, taking care not to knock my feet or head into the threshold.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  He kicks the door shut behind him, with me still in his arms, and makes his way to the bedroom, never uttering a single word.

  Tossing me down on the bed, he begins to remove my shoes and goes to work on my zipper.

  “Whoa, slow down,” I giggle. “Mind telling me what’s going on here?”

  “I fucking want you,” he says. “I had a dream about you, and I want you right now.”

  “You had a dream—,” he rips my pants and underwear off in one swift motion, causing me to stop mid-sentence. “About what?” I manage once I’m partially nude before him.

  “I dreamt that you were out fucking my brother, and that you were so fucking turned on. When I woke up, I was pissed off at first, but now I just want to fuck the shit out of you and show you what I can do.”

  Guilt takes over and sex with Trent has never felt so dirty.

  His raging dick is the hardest I’ve ever seen it, and the fact is, I want him to fuck me. I want him to pretend that he’s his brother or that he’s got to prove something to me. I’m ready for him.

  All of him.

  Helping him along, I quickly pull my shirt over my head and begin unfastening my bra. I want it hot, dirty, raw, and gritty. I want him to fuck me harder than I’ve ever been fucked before.

  I want him to hurt me.

  Because I deserve it. I deserve to take everything he’s going to give to me because I’ve been bad. Not only have I wanted another man, but I’ve been lusting after his brother.

  Spreading my legs for him, he steps between them and yanks them apart how he wants them. Spread eagle on the edge of his bed, he lines himself up to me and pushes himself inside of me in one quick thrust.

  No foreplay, no nothing. He doesn’t even care if I’m wet or ready for him, but I am. I’m so sinfully fucking wet.

  His hands are firmly planted around my ankles as he begins jackhammering into me, and I can feel his tight muscles constricting as he takes what is rightfully his.

  My hands cup my C-cup breasts to keep them from bouncing around and I squeeze my nipples between my fingers, pinching them into perfectly pebbled cones for him to look at.

  “Fuck me harder,” I beg.

  Plowing into me harder, he goes as deep in me as he can, bottoming out. Pressed snuggly against my cervix, he keeps the head of his cock planted there and continues thrusting into me over and over, sending waves of pleasure through me that I didn’t know existed.

  “You feel so fucking good. So wet,” he says, wrapping his forearms around my upper thighs to gain some traction and leverage.

  Working his rigid cock in and out of me, I can feel how he slides with ease because of how turned on I am. Cupping my breasts, I clamp down on my nipples even harder as he continues pressing against my G-spot until I can’t take it any longer and begin cumming.

  “That’s it, baby. Let me give it to you,” he says.

  It doesn’t take much longer when I feel him quickening his pace. His balls are slapping against my skin and I can feel the muscles in his arms tense when he squeezes my legs, filling me up with his seed.

  With a final grunt, he collapses on top of me, sweaty and out of breath.

  After a long, exhausting day of searching for jobs, I’m glad when Trent invites me to his house for a quiet dinner and a cozy evening alone.

  The two of us share a deluxe pizza while watching movies, and before bed we make some deep fried Twinkies® as a late night snack. Curling together in bed, I’m glad to have moments like this.

  In the middle of the night, my phone dings, alerting me to the fact that I have a new text message. I’m so tired and don’t want to check it, but I know if I don’t the annoying ping will keep me up all night.

  It’s a text message from Zack.

  Call me. I need to talk to you.

  Ignoring his message, I put my phone back on the nightstand and roll over, facing Trent who’s out like a baby.

  His face is smashed against the pillow and a small pile of drool is forming at the corner of his mouth as his eyes dart back and forth beneath the lids.

  He must be in REM sleep, probably far away in dreamland; I wish I was.

  My phone starts ringing and I don’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it is. Grabbing my phone, I dart to the hallway, never missing a single step and quietly answer the phone as I make my way to the kitchen, hoping Trent doesn’t wake up.

  Trent can never find out about this. He’d go mad if he knew that I answer his brother’s calls in the middle of the night, especially when I left his bed to do so.

  He’d probably end everything. No questions asked.

  “Zack? Do you have any idea—,” I hear his pained voice cutting my words like a knife.

  “I need you in my life. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “Zack. We can always be friends and—,” he cuts me off again.

  “Fuck that. I meant what I said the other night. I might have been drunk, but I remember every word. Every. Single. Word. I thought we could be friends too, but we can’t. I’ve tried so hard to get you out of my mind, but it hasn’t worked.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m with your brother and I’ve chosen him.”

  “Bullshit. If you chose him—really wanted him—you wouldn’t be answering your phone at 2 in the morning for me. You would’ve sent me to voicemail or blocked my number. Face it, you want me as much as I want you.”

  “No, I don’t. You’re wrong,” I say.

  Lies. All lies.

  “Meet with me tomorrow. You name the place and the time.”

  “I can’t meet with you tomorrow, Zack. I’m going to be putting in job applications.”

  “If you can’t do it, I understand but you also need to know that I can’t be part of your life. It’s just too hard. I’m sorry.”

  I hear a soft click just before the line goes dead. He didn’t even give me a chance to respond.

  All I can do for now is go back to bed with the man that I chose.

  The darkness of the room covers me like a blanket and I’m left alone with my thoughts, and let me te
ll you. They’re consuming me right now.

  Part of me feels sad and guilty, and even though I thought I had it all figured out, I don’t. I never did.

  The sooner I realize that things don’t always go as you plan, the better off I’ll be but damn, he sounded so broken, so lost, so damaged.

  Eventually, I drift to sleep and wake to an empty bed.

  I decide that since it’s Friday, I’m going to take the day off from looking for a job and go home to spend the afternoon with my father.

  When I arrive home, the house is quiet, and he’s nowhere to be found. Curious, I call his cell phone to see where he is, and that’s when I learn he’s with his friends at a local coffee shop they like to congregate.

  Looking around the house, I see that it’s in dire need of a deep cleaning. With nothing else to do, I decide (for some unknown reason) that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll clean the house and surprise my dad.

  I walk over to the Smart TV to find the app that plays music and crank it up before I get elbow deep in dust and pledge.

  I’m almost finished cleaning the living room, about to make my way to the hallway bathroom, when someone begins pounding on the door.

  It sounds like a bookie collecting money with the way the door’s rattling in the frame. I look through the peephole and see two men wearing designer suits with black sunglasses standing in front of the door.

  “Can I help you?” I yell through the door.

  The deadbolt is already locked, but I slide the chain across and lock the doorknob for extra measures.

  “Are you Joline Walker?” he glares into the peephole.

  Holy shit. How does he know my name?

  “We need to talk to you,” he says.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know—I mean, I don’t feel comfortable and—,” he starts pounding on the door again.

  “Open the damned door, or we’ll break it down. Right now all we want to do is talk; we need to give you a message. If you don’t open the door, we’ll do a lot more than use our words.”

  I’m scared that if I open the door, they’re going to ambush me but if I don’t, they’re for sure going to do it.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

  They’re kicking and beating the door, and they’re not giving up.

  “Okay, stop! Please, stop!” I yell as I begin unlocking the door so I can open it.

  “Excuse us,” they push right past me and make their way inside of the house. “Your neighbors were beginning to stare.”

  “Who are you and what do you want? Why are you here?”

  “We were sent to deliver a message to Zack Richardson. I’m sure you know who he is,” the shorter one says.

  Shorter, but not short by any means. These men are both giants. I’d say the tallest one is at least 6’7” and the ‘shorter’ one is about 6’4," and their necks are the same size as my thigh.

  “What about Zack? Is he in trouble?”

  “Let’s just say our boss caught on that he’s running a crew,” the taller one says. “Now, we—my partner and I—both know that you’re part of that team, and can you guess what we do to people who rip off our boss and all of his friends?”

  The shorter one grabs me in a bear hug with one arm and puts a knife to my throat with his free hand, and begins snaking the knife gently across my neck and up the side of my cheek.

  “We can make a beautiful girl like you look real ugly, Joline.”

  “What do you want?”

  I’m trying to will myself to breathe, but I’m scared if I do, the knife will dig deeper into my skin and cut me. I don’t dare move a muscle.

  “We want your friend, and all of the money he’s ripped off from our casino,” the taller one says. “And you’re going to help us get him and the money. Aren’t you?”

  It’s not a question. He’s telling me.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You’re going to deliver him to us, and we want him by tomorrow night at 8 PM.”

  “Where?” I ask, trying to remain perfectly still.

  “We’ll text you the address.”

  My face gives away my thoughts as I wonder how they’re going to do that.

  “Don’t worry; we have your number. We know everything there is to know about you, even how you’re fucking his brother. We sure wouldn’t want any accidents to happen with him, now would we?”

  Shit. They do know everything; they weren’t making that part up.

  I swallow. Hard.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “We thought you would,” the one facing me smiles. “Go ahead,” he looks at his partner.

  He thrusts me out of his arms, spins me around and smacks the shit out of my face, making my head turn from the force.

  I can feel the warm blood trickle from my nose, and I can taste pennies in my mouth; the copper taste makes my upper lip curl in disgust.

  “That’s the only warning you get. Next time, it’ll be worse.”

  Chapter 18

  Frantic, I keep trying to reach Zack as I drive over to his apartment and hope that he’ll talk to me once I get there.

  Before I exit the car, I take a look at my face in the mirror and clean the dried blood off my face. Not only did they bust my nose, but they also bloodied my lip when it caught on the man’s massive ring that the guy was wearing.

  Continuing to call, I ride up the elevator to his apartment, but he’s still ignoring me. I just hope that he answers the door when he sees me standing there.

  Knocking on his door isn’t getting me a response, either. Unsure as to whether or not he’s home, I call him again as I continue knocking to see if I can hear his phone ring.

  It works. His phone begins ringing, and it sounds like it might be on his coffee table, so I knock harder.

  “Zack, I know you’re home. Answer the damn door,” I redial his number to make his phone start ringing again.

  “Shit! Okay, okay! Hold on a minute,” he yells. I can hear his feet against the floor as he makes his way to the door and opens it, covering his frontal area with a t-shirt.

  He’s standing before me buck naked, and his chest is rising and falling as though he just ran a marathon. My eyes are drawn to the tattoo on his chest, diagonal to his heart.

  It’s a hand of face cards, fanned out with a thorny rose behind them with an overhead angel to watch out for him. I hope that angel is watching out for him—for us—now because we’re all in deep trouble.

  Suddenly, I get the feeling that I interrupted something, but I don’t care. I can’t care right now. Right now I have to push whatever he’s doing in the back of my mind because if I don’t, I won’t be able to focus.

  “Joline? What are you doing here?”

  “I, um, I, uh, came here to tell you something.”

  His eyes protrude out of his head, enlarging the whites of his eyes as he cranes his neck, waiting for an answer.

  “These men came to me and told—,” a girl appears from out of nowhere.

  She’s wrapped in his bed sheet, clutching it to cover her breasts.

  “Babe? What’s going on?” she asks him.

  His head drops against the door as he tries to cover himself with the t-shirt.

  “Go back into the bedroom,” he sounds annoyed. “Go!” he yells at her when she doesn’t immediately follow his orders. “And put your damn clothes on.”

  “What men?” he turns his attention to me once she leaves.

  “I can come back later,” I say, turning around to leave his apartment. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have—,” he grabs my arm and stops me, dropping the t-shirt.

  I shouldn’t look, but I can’t help myself. He’s not a “grower” like his brother; he’s definitely a “shower.” Scrambling for the t-shirt, he pulls it back in front of himself and drags me into his apartment.

  “She’ll be gone in a minute. I promise,” he says, planting me firmly on his leather couch.

  There’s so much going on that my head is sp
inning and I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around what’s happening. How did I get mixed up into all of this?

  “Call me later?” the woman asks as she grabs her purse from the kitchen counter.

  “Bye,” he says, opening the door for her.

  She’s gone, and now I feel like I can breathe a little, but I want to cry. I want to break down and let it all out. There’s too much going on. The men, his brother, him, the girl, it’s all too much.

  I can feel the waterworks about to come on, but I keep telling myself not to do it. Don’t let it happen.

  Tears are stinging my eyes, and I can’t help it. I’ve held back as long as I can. As much as I want to pretend that everything’s okay and I’m good with his brother, I can’t help the fact that a part of me wants to be with Zack.

  Shame, guilt, anger, and sadness are all on the brink of being released.

  “Hey,” he slips on a pair of sweatpants and sits next to me. “It’s okay. Whatever’s going on, we can fix it.” He looks at my face and sees some of the dried blood that I missed in the car before I made my way to his apartment.

  “Shit, Joline, what happened to you? Tell me what’s going on.”

  The warmth of his hand rubs my back and cascades around me as he embraces me and holds me tight.

  “These two men, they came to the house to give you a message,” I begin.

  “What? What men?”

  A look of concern grows across his face. He knows he’s been caught; they’re on to him.

  “They didn’t tell me their names, but they want me to bring you to them. Tomorrow night. What are we going to do?”

  “Shit,” he gets up from the couch and begins pacing the room. “Okay, we’ll go. I’ll meet them.”

  I didn’t have to tell him all the things the two men said; he already had an idea of how the conversation went.

  “You can’ t do that. They might kill you, Zack.”

  He looks at my face and wipes away pieces of the dried blood that are still present on my face.