The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance

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The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 63

by Cassandra Dee


  And the ramifications hit home for me. Because now there was white dripping from both her pussy and ass, a mix of mine and Brent’s semen trailing from her body, and it looked fucking good, jacked me up to sixty miles an hour just like that. But the thing is most people don’t think that way. Folks are judgmental, they hate what they can’t understand and knowing that Katy had two men’s semen mixing in her, coating her sweet privates, would cause havoc, labeling her “that trashy girl.”

  So I paused again, chest heaving, dick wet against my thigh.

  “So what do we do?” I ground out. “What’s the solution?”

  Brent, ever the smooth operator, stepped in.

  “I think a better question is what Katy wants,” he rumbled, seizing her eyes with his. “Tell us, baby girl, what do you want? You’ve made it clear that you have some reservations, that you’re not sure how this is going to work out despite the fact that Jason and I love you,” he said smoothly.

  And I nodded furiously then, because if nothing else, I adored this girl, absolutely worshiped her, and wanted what she wanted, even if it broke our hearts.

  “But,” Brent continued, “our set-up is non-traditional, for sure, and there’s no clear path forward. We’d have to tread lightly and figure out how to do this while we’re doing this,” he added wryly. “So what do you want, little girl? Is there something we can do to help you decide, help you figure out the right path for you?”

  And Katy sat up a bit then, still nude, her huge breasts pendulous and creamy, her twat and ass sticky with our combined come. But those brown eyes were serious as she gazed at us, stirring me to the core.

  “Brent, Jason, I don’t know,” she said softly, the fight gone out of her. “I just don’t know. I’m so new to this, to dating, to men, and to ask me to commit to a threesome right away is scary, you know? I mean, I love you so much, but the ramifications are insane. I guess,” she said, hanging her head a bit, “I just need some time. I asked for the forty-eight hour waiting period because I wasn’t sure, and now,” here she paused and took a deep breath, “I need a little longer.”

  My big form jolted then.

  “What does that mean?” I said harshly. “You need seventy-two instead?”

  Brent threw a glare my way, but Katy just sighed, exhausted.

  “No, not that,” she said softly. “I think … I think I need longer, you know? I don’t know how long is enough, but my mom got back from the hospital yesterday and the heat and electricity have been turned back on in our trailer. So I guess,” and here she bit her lip, looking down at the coverlet, “I guess I’ll move back in with her for a while and see how things go, see if I can figure things out a little.”

  I was really fucking horrified now. It made no sense to me whatsoever. All three of us had acknowledged that we were in love, and yet Katy was fucking moving out? How did that help anything? What the fuck?

  But Brent was more circumspect. He nodded, those blue eyes piercing, but understanding all the same.

  “Of course,” he rumbled, taking her hand in his. “Of course, we respect your boundaries, and it’s no big deal,” he shot another glance my way. “Tina’s trailer is just on the other side of the park, it’s a ten minute walk at most. It’s no big deal, right Jason?” he said, that deep voice threatening.

  But that was the thing. Ten minutes away from my little girl was too much, I’d go nuts without that beautiful body, without her sweet smile, her knowing glances.

  “Fuck no,” I ground out. “You’re staying.”

  But the brunette just shook her head and took my square hand in one of hers, sitting up all the way now, beautiful jugs on display, that glorious mass of curls framing her angelic face.

  “Jason,” she began. “I love you. I love you both, but please, please, please just give me a little space, okay? I promise we’ll work it out somehow.”

  And my heart crumpled in my chest because seeing the plea in her eyes, the soft tone of her voice, did me in. I couldn’t say no. I loved this woman, adored everything about her, her body, her personality, her need for independence, fuck, even her ability to foresee what could, might, should happen. Katy was sharp as a tack and wanted to consider and contemplate various scenarios before committing to us, she needed to hammer out more of the details, do some deep thinking on her own and absorb the future before it became real.

  So what choice did I have? The brunette’s happiness was the most important thing in the world to me, and I relented.

  “Fine,” I growled. “But know that we’re waiting. Brent and I,” I said nodding to the older man, “are always here for you.”

  And the little girl grasped both our hands then, the three of us forming a circle on the big bed.

  “Yes, I know,” she said softly. “And that’s why I love you.”

  And with a deep exhale, my heart turned over in my chest. Because I worshipped this woman and if she needed time to spread her wings, explore her surroundings, see a little more of the world, then I’d give it to her. If you love something, let it go right? But the old adage had never said how painful it would be to watch something fly away, waiting with bated breath to see if it’d come back.

  The thing is, we had no choice, Brent and I. We had no choice because we couldn’t be any other way, we loved the brunette too much, treasured her, absolutely worshipped the supple female. So there was only the waiting … and I didn’t know if I’d survive.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Katy

  I flipped through the pages of a book slowly, reading but not remembering anything, my eyes on the words but unable to see.

  “Katy,” interrupted Tina. “Kate-sters, what’s going on with you?”

  I glanced up at my mom, sighing.

  “Oh hey Mom, didn’t hear you come in. How was counseling today? Did the therapist say anything useful?”

  My mom snorted.

  “Honey, I know everything that doctor is going to say before it even comes out of his mouth,” she said dryly. “Trust me, it’s just the same shit over and over again, the same twelve-step process, they never switch anything up.”

  And I sighed. My mom doesn’t have an addiction but a lot of therapies have adapted AA’s twelve-step program to various scenarios. In this case, my mom had a case of severe anxiety and depression but somehow her therapy group was always reciting the AA pledge, droning the words.

  “If you don’t like Dr. Jenkins, do you want me to find another doctor for you?” I asked slowly. “Our insurance isn’t bad, I’m sure there are other providers close by.”

  But my mom snorted.

  “Katy, honey, our insurance is bad, and there’s no one else. Why do you think there’s always a line to see him, why it’s so hard to get an appointment? Because none of us can go anywhere else, that’s why.”

  And I sighed. My mom had a point. We’re poor without a lot of options, and were lucky to see Dr. Jenkins every other week. It was either him or no one, that was the sad truth.

  So I fiddled with my book again, stuck in the smallness of my life, going through the motions of a high school girl without really living it, my heart locked inside a case of ice. Because this is what life is like now. I live on the other side of the trailer park with my mom, helping her get better, doing school work, and on the outside I look fine, but inside, I’m a mess. I can’t get over what happened between me, Jason and Brent, and I have no clue what to do next. There’s so much that’s already happened and my mind is tangled, twisted, tying myself in such knots that I could scream. There are nights when I wake up at night in a cold sweat, bolting up in bed only to have it all come crashing down on me again, the enormity of the situation, the incredible stuck-ness that I feel, with no clear answers, no path forward. Because I have no idea how to resolve the situation. I absolutely love Jason and Brent, and they’d made clear that they’d take whatever I could give. But the thing is, how in the world would this work out? I was going to be pinned with a scarlet letter if I did the trio, if I entered
into a relationship with them. And I wasn’t ready to be labeled “that trashy girl,” not yet, maybe never.

  Tina could sense my inner conflict, the tension thick in the air.

  “Baby girl,” she drawled, leaning back and lighting up a cigarette. “What’s going on with you? Why haven’t you seen Brent or that other guy, Jason, since I’ve been back?” She shouldn’t have been smoking, but with her issues, that was the least of her problems.

  “Why? What’s it to you?” I asked quickly, a little too sharp.

  And my mom let out a throaty chuckle which ended up in a series of hacking coughs, really painful sounding with a deep rattle in her chest. But nervous breakdown or no, my mom is smart, with an uncanny sixth sense about people and their emotions, and as her daughter, I was especially under the microscope.

  “Well, there’s the fact that you lived with them while I was gone,” she drawled, taking another deep drag. “You lived with two men for a year, ate their food, slept at their place, watched their TV, and as far as I know, haven’t thanked them for their generosity. So it’s strange that you’ve cut off all contact, wouldn’t you say?”

  And I flushed. Because I had thanked Brent and Jason, in a way. I’d fallen in love and thanked them with my body, gifting them my cherries, letting them take and taking for myself along the way. But how could I explain that to my mom? So I just mumbled, “I said thank you when I left.”

  Tina shook her head again, taking another deep drag.

  “No baby girl, there’s more to it than that. You’ve been distracted since I got back, cloudy, dreamy, looking like a lost soul. What’s going with you? Out with it baby, I’m the queen of therapy.”

  I choked a little, but before I knew it, the whole story came spilling out, how it had started so innocently with a few looks, a few heated glances and then become a full-on affair, both men loving me, our bodies wrapped around one another in sensual delight.

  And my mom’s no dimwit, she heard every word that I said, every syllable loud and clear.

  “So Katy,” she said slowly, taking another deep drag, “what you’re saying is that you’ve fallen in love with not one man, but two.”

  And I nodded hopelessly, tears coursing down my cheeks.

  “Ye-yes,” I stammered. “I don’t know how things got so complicated but it’s just so fucked-up and I’m so confused and things shouldn’t be like this and …” My voice trailed off painfully, my chest hurt, like my heart was crumpling and folding in on itself, a hole it its place.

  Tina was silent for a moment, looking at me contemplatively.

  “Well, at least you love each other,” she said wryly. “Having two men in love with you is better than none.”

  There was some truth to that. Trust my mom to be dryly efficient, stripping things down to their bare bones.

  “I know, I know, I’m grateful, but love shouldn’t be this hard, right? It should be easy, everything should come easy and this … this is the opposite,” I cried.

  But Tina shook her head at that.

  “Who said love is easy?” she hacked, voice raspy from the cigarettes.

  I paused for a moment.

  “Well, I mean … I mean, I guess I thought it would be,” I blubbered. “I mean, I thought love was like soaring through the skies, things would just fall into place.”

  And my mom positively snorted then, which became another series of painful coughs.

  “Katy, honey, sometimes I don’t think you’re my daughter, we’re so different,” she rasped, bent over double. “Where the fuck are you getting these ideas? Didn’t I raise you in a trailer park? Nothing comes easy for women like us.”

  And I colored then. I prided myself on my street smarts, but had I lost my bearings this time?

  And my mom confirmed it, nodding vehemently.

  “What you’re describing is the process of falling in love,” she said tiredly. “But real love, the real thing isn’t like that. Real love is something worth fighting for, worth struggling for, and you’re acting like it should come to you served on a silver platter.”

  I bit my tongue for a moment.

  “I guess,” I said dully. “I just didn’t think the struggle would be this hard.”

  My mom looked at me and sighed then.

  “Any struggle is hard,” she said dryly. “Why do you think it’s called struggle? Why is work called work? Because this shit is hard and you can’t expect things to turn out perfect, easy-peasy, with no blood, sweat and tears.”

  I was quiet again.

  “But why does it feel that I have no options? Like I’m stuck in a corner?” I asked, my voice breaking.

  And my mom snorted again, but her voice was gentler this time.

  “Katy, you’re young,” she rasped. “You’re only eighteen, how can you say you have no options? I’m the one with no options, no one wants someone like me with loads of baggage and a history of … well, never mind,” she said.

  “What I mean is that the world is your oyster and all you have to do is reach out your hand and take it. There are two men who love you and you love them too. So what do you mean by no options? You’ve got so many options, it’s crazy, you shouldn’t be here mopey and sad. Go on, go live your life,” she commanded.

  But I shook my head miserably again.

  “That’s the problem exactly,” I wailed. “There are two men. What am I gonna do with two men? What are people going to say when they find out about us?”

  My mom closed her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose as if a migraine were bursting in her brain.

  “Girl,” she said wryly, putting her hand over mine and looking at me pointedly. “I’m only gonna say this once, because you know this already. Sure, it matters what people think, but only up to a point. What really, truly matters, is that there are two men who love you, and you love them too. So go and get it! How long do you think they’re going to wait? How long do you think you can dilly-dally, moping like a wet rag, pulling your hair out while they sit and grow restless? You think you’re so special, a unique star, the one and only gift to mankind?”

  And Tina touched on my deepest fear, my innermost doubt. Because Brent and Jason were alpha males, I’d seen with my own eyes how women threw themselves at them right and left, shameless and uninhibited. Sure, they’d pledged themselves to me, but since I’d disappeared from their lives, how long did I have, how long before they forgot me and found another woman? Another two women? Three even?

  And suddenly, my heart began racing. Because Tina was right. What mattered most was how much I adored these men, and this adoration was returned double, even ten-fold by Jason and Brent. I’d been screwing things up on my own, weaving a web of stories, of what-ifs, of horrors, and the only person that I’d trapped was myself. There were a million outcomes to this story, there were a million possibilities and only time could tell. But in the meantime, there was still us. There was still irretrievably, unconditionally us … I hoped.

  So I sat up suddenly, jolting to life, grabbing my jacket.

  “Mom, gotta go,” I rushed, tongue tangled. “I have to see Jason and Brent, I have to tell them. Bye!”

  And with that, I was out the door, galloping across the trailer park, heart in throat, feet pounding.

  And my mom’s voice rang tinnily in my ears, fading with the distance.

  “Tell them thank you for me, Katy. Tell them thank you for loving and caring for a daughter of mine.”

  And as my legs pumped, tears pooled in my eyes, my heart expanding and then overflowing. Because I was running to my future, and there was no doubt what it was. Jason and Brent were my future, and I was desperate to find them and tell them, to bury myself in their arms, complete the circle that was us, to fall in love over and over again … as long as they would still have me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Brent

  She came tearing down the drive towards our trailer, brunette curls flying, face flushed before hurling herself into my arms.

>   “Brent,” she gasped, her face pressed against my jacket. “I’ve missed you.”

  This was new. Katy’s never been affectionate in public, so this was different. I bent my head to her, holding her tight, and murmured into her curls.

  “Come on, pretty baby,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Let’s go inside.”

  And with my arm around her shoulders, we walked up the steps into our home. The trailer was the same as always, nothing had changed in the two weeks she’d been gone. Oh wait, Jason had installed new cabinets and damn, those babies gleamed and shone, classy and elegant in the small space.

  “Where is he?” she panted, brown eyes wide, looking around. “Where’s Jason?”

  The big man stepped from his room then, his form tall, broad, intimidating, looming in the doorway.

  “Here,” was all he said, voice low.

  Because the last two weeks have been hard on all of us, but especially Jason. I have the benefit of decades, I’ve been through the wringer emotionally with years of seasoning of years under my belt, so deep down, I wasn’t worried. Of course, there are no guarantees, but I had the distinct feeling that Katy would be back, that she’d find her way to us sooner or later.

  But with Jason, it was different. The young alpha didn’t have the benefit of experience and had been heartbroken when she’d left, even if it was just a temporary pause like she promised. He’d thrown himself into work, disappearing into his shed, hammering this and that, the buzz of power tools going late into the night. And the good part was that we’d come out with these beautiful cabinets. The bad part was that the big man had been like a fucking bear these past two weeks, huge, dangerous, silent most of the time, growling when spoken to.

  So to see the object of our love, our affection, our lust, suddenly materializing like out of a dream and looking better than ever was a jolt to the heart, a shot to the nervous system.

  “What are you doing back?” he growled, eyes shuttered.

  And Katy, bless her heart, stepped forward like an innocent doe right into the crosshairs of the big bad wolf.

 

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