Burning Choice (Trevor's Harem #3)

by Aubrey Parker

  Kylie looks up next, her face flushed. For once, we seem to have caught her being human. Lust and overwhelm are still emotions, and I’m glad to see them on the face of such a bitchy automaton. Acts I’ve seen Kylie do in the past — before getting out as fast as I could — all looked done out of spite, or possibly for a pornographer’s camera. Those times, she was all eyes and seductive writhing. This time, she’s a girl in passion’s grip.

  Until she sits halfway up, tugging at her skirt to compose herself. She’s almost up on her elbows when Ivy tackles her.

  “Whoa, hey!” Logan shouts, his cavalier smile suddenly alarmed. He rushes forward while the rest of us hang back, more shocked than amused.

  We hear shouts and screams, but Ivy and Kylie are behind the couch, hidden from view. We can only see Logan above their thrashing hands and occasional flashes of hair, trying and failing to stop the melee.

  “Jesus shit, knock it off!” Logan yells. Then: “OW!”

  An enormous presence pushes past me, then Tony joins them, rushing, dodging fingernails to grab Ivy and pull her away. Tony is enormous and Ivy is tiny, but it still takes him long seconds to pin her arms back and hold her away. Logan takes Kylie — which, now that my shock is fading, I find funny to watch. Kylie, in heels, is actually taller than Logan. He makes a show of holding her back, but Kylie isn’t struggling nearly as hard as Ivy. But Kylie’s hair is a rat’s nest of brown ends, and her dress is ripped at the strap and down one side — I don’t think Kylie realizes she has a breast hanging out. Finally, she does, shaking free from Logan with a huff, then pulling it up enough to cover herself.

  Trevor marches in, followed by Daniel. Both are wearing suits, unlike Richard, Tony, and Logan.

  “What the hell is going on?” Daniel demands. He looks right at Logan, who everyone seems to agree might both know the most and be most objective, but Ivy answers, spitting like a cat.

  “She’s fucking my man!”

  “Your man?” Kylie says, her voice thick with mocking disbelief.

  “You knew I was into him! I told you, you cunt!”

  “I guess he didn’t know,” Kylie says.

  Ivy struggles, and one arm breaks free, but Tony grabs it back.

  Trevor looks from one girl to another. Finally, he says, “What’s going on, Richard?”

  “Just doing my job, boss.”

  “Is there something … exclusive … here?” Trevor asks.

  “’Course not.”

  “You swore,” Ivy says. I’m shocked to realize she’s crying. “You swore you and me … ” But she stops right there.

  I look to Kat. “Is she kidding? Did you hear anything about this?”

  “I know she likes him,” Kat says. “But who does not?”

  Right. Richard is as hot as the others, and on a strictly physical, strictly fantasy level, I suppose I like Richard, too. But if Ivy seriously thought they had …

  It’s hard to imagine the rest of that sentence.

  I look back at Jessica, who shrugs. Then to Kat again.

  “I heard about Kylie. But I also assume she’s not stupid enough to think he’d keep his pants on with everyone else,” I say.

  “I did too,” Kat says.

  We’re watching the train wreck, all seeming to wonder what happens next. I was almost kicked out for fighting, so I assume that at least Ivy — and maybe Kylie too — are in trouble. But I also remember how Kylie advanced when she broke unwritten rules last time, and Daniel saying that the real contest started at six. We all know that Kylie is devious and have heard the rumors that she was more interested in Richard than in anyone else, including Trevor. We all know that everyone here is at least a little unstable, me included. There’s nothing surprising except for the obvious: that Kylie chose to lip-lock here, now, in the place and time we’re supposed to be having some sort of an elimination challenge. I can only assume she didn’t get her envelope.

  Selfishly, I wonder if they’ll pull Kylie and Ivy into Time Out so the other four of us can take the tests anyway. My mind keeps flashing back to Linda, and a whispered update from Daniel last night that I’m intuitive enough to know was only a partial truth. I know things are getting worse, and that if I make one more elimination, I might be able to put a down payment on a solution. If I somehow make two more — into the final four — I’ll have enough for the whole deal.

  That seemed impossible five minutes ago, but right now I’m looking at two contestants who might be eliminated out of hand.

  Across the room, Ivy and Kylie have mostly settled, but the two allies-turned-rivals are still glaring at each other. I look at Daniel, wishing I could ask him what’s on my mind. But I can’t say anything, and I watch both him and Trevor survey the group. Then Trevor takes Daniel aside, and they whisper to each other, gesturing back at Ivy and Kylie.

  Finally, they break apart.

  Daniel stands straight and starts giving orders.

  “Tony, Logan,” he says, looking at the men holding the girls. “Take them back to their rooms. We’ll do today’s test, maybe, depending on how this turns out.” He glares at Ivy and Kylie in turn, his eyes conveying my hopes: that they might simply be finished, no careful elimination required. “Stand outside their respective doors. Don’t … interact … with them at all, if you understand my meaning. Not today. Do you understand?”

  Logan and Tony nod. Then, looking to Trevor for approval, they head off with their spitting prisoners in tow.

  “You,” Daniel says to Richard. “To the dorm.”

  “What the hell did I do wrong?” Richard protests.

  “Now.”

  Richard slouches off. Now it’s just the four remaining girls, Daniel, and Trevor.

  “You two,” Daniel says, pointing to Jessica and Roxy. “Go with Trevor up to his office. Tell him everything you saw. Every tiny detail. It’s very, very important that we know who’s in the wrong here … and how what one of them says happened jibes with the truth.”

  I guess it makes sense. When police interrogate suspects, they isolate them to make sure the stories match. If our six slots in this contest are as valuable as I’ve been led to believe, it’s logical that they’d treat it seriously, especially with eliminations at stake.

  But I do wonder what Roxy and Jessica will tell Trevor that the cameras and microphones didn’t already see.

  “You two,” Daniel says, pointing at me and Kat, “will stay here with me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Bridget

  The door closes. Daniel walks over and locks it. Then he crosses the huge room, threading past its many couches, and locks the other door. Finally, he sits like a king on his throne and nods for us to do the same across from him. I guess the interrogation has begun. But for a long time, Daniel just sits there, hands on the chair’s arms, every crease perfect in his dark suit. His cuffs are so starched and flat, they look cut from marble. His cufflinks are pitch black, like a stone from the devil’s heart. He adjusts one then the other. And continues to sit, watching us, saying nothing.

  I want to speak to him like a normal person rather than this ominous specter, but Kat’s right beside me. I’ve been one on one with Daniel, and we've shared a crowd. We haven’t been together in such a small group since the plane, when I barely knew him. I don’t know how to speak to him, or if I should.

  “So,” Kat says to Daniel. Her S sounds thick and biting like a grudge. “You want to know what we have seen?” It’s strange, the way she says it. It’s almost disrespectful, like she resents being here.

  “Sure,” Daniel says in a tone of why not. “Who started it?”

  “Who are you talking to?” I ask.

  “You.”

  “Ivy started it,” I say.

  “Because Kylie was kissing Richard.” Daniel’s tone is perfectly even.

  “I guess.”

  “Why would she care who Richard kisses? He’s here for all of you, and everyone knows it.” He’s looking back and forth between us. I’m not su
re what this is, except not what it seems. And yet somehow, I feel like I’m the only one out of the loop.

  “Now who are you talking to?” I ask.

  “You,” he repeats.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Hmm,” Daniel says.

  There’s silence between us. I catch Daniel looking at me in ways he shouldn’t with Kat here — at my bare lower legs, at my chest, at the lower edge of my dress.

  “I know something,” Kat says.

  Richard’s eyes go up.

  “I know Ivy talks in her sleep.”

  “Does she now?”

  “Especially when she dreams.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And now for some reason, we see that Ivy is in relationship with Richard. Which makes no sense, as you say.”

  “True.”

  “It is like strange fantasy,” Kat says. She looks at me, and then I look at Daniel.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask.

  “We’re trying to determine who is at fault in an unfortunate, unexpected altercation,” Daniel says. He smirks at Kat, and then it’s gone.

  “Seriously,” I say.

  “What did you see, Bridget?”

  “I told you what I saw. You already asked me that.” I’m annoyed, feeling deliberately excluded from whatever understanding Kat and Daniel seem to be sharing.

  “What else did you see?”

  “Bitches fighting.”

  “Do you think they should be eliminated?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “For fighting.”

  “You fought.”

  I’m trying not to growl. “I was provoked.”

  “Well,” Daniel says, “Ivy was provoked, too.”

  “Yes,” Kat says. “Because Ivy was in relationship with Richard and Kylie is taking him away.”

  “Exactly,” Daniel says.

  I shrug.

  “When they fought,” Daniel says, “did it turn you on?”

  My eyes narrow. I look at Daniel then Kat.

  “No.”

  “What about when you walked in and saw Richard with his hand in Kylie’s pussy?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What the fuck are you trying to say?” I demand.

  “What’s stronger, Bridget? Your desire to protect your secret fantasies or your desire to obey?”

  “I don’t have a desire to obey.” I almost laugh, but I’m stopped by the memory of Daniel commanding me to kneel in the dusty room, to take off my fucking dress and blow him until he came down my throat.

  “What if I told you to touch Kat right now?”

  I reach over. I touch Kat briefly on the arm.

  “Not like that, Bridget.”

  I’m tired of whatever this is. “Go fuck yourself,” I say.

  He turns to Kat. “Kat, touch Bridget.”

  Kat’s fingers skim my arm. Softly.

  “On the breast.”

  Her fingers move higher. I’m glaring at Daniel, but I don’t move. Kat’s fingers trace the contour of my right breast through the fabric. My nipple is already erect. I don’t want this. Except that I also sort of do, and my quickening heartbeat broadcasts the uncomfortable truth.

  “How does it feel?” Daniel asks.

  Kat leans in, and I’d swear she’s going to kiss my neck. Instead, she whispers, “He knows that I know.”

  I look over.

  And very close, her petite elfin mouth says, “About you. About you and Daniel.”

  “There’s a lot we knew about human nature before this contest began,” Daniel says, watching Kat, eyes hard as he watches her fingers tracing my nipple. “Jealousy for instance. Jealousy makes people insane. Literally insane. You’ll do things you’d never do when you’re jealous. You’ll smash things you love in a rage. You’ll burn a house. You’ll kill for jealousy, when it strikes you.”

  Kat looks at Daniel. Smiles. And then without a word, she slips her fingers under the front edge of my strapless dress and pulls it down, baring my breasts.

  And I notice that, as Daniel’s legs part slightly, he’s entirely hard.

  “Jealousy sparks adrenaline. Your heart races. Your pupils dilate. Your lungs expand to take in more oxygen, for fight or flight. Blood redistributes to the muscles, and your metabolism changes to maximize blood glucose to the brain.”

  Kat looks into my eyes for approval then lowers her tiny mouth to my nipple. My eyes close, and I involuntarily exhale.

  “But if you catch it before rage sets in,” Daniel goes on, his voice now slightly thick, “jealousy is actually the same physiological response as sexual arousal.”

  Kat comes up to my lips. Gives me a small, soft kiss while her hand cups my breast. I feel something pass between us — something slight, like a warm draft of emotion. And when she moves away, I can see how much this is bothering Daniel. How much he hates Kat touching me at the same time that he likes it.

  “Jealousy,” he says, a growl entering his voice, “is a turn-on.”

  And Kat pulls away, settling back, taking herself out of the equation. I feel a bit disoriented. She was coming on to me a little, and now she’s withdrawn: back to just being Kat, just a woman I know. But now there’s something brewing between me and Daniel that wasn’t there before.

  I don’t understand what Kat’s just done or why she did it. Because even if she knows about us — even if, somehow, she’s willing to stand by and help us be together, if that’s what this is — it’s ridiculous and futile. The house is crawling with cameras. It took sixty seconds for me to move from anger to full-flush arousal, from fury to wanting to leap on Daniel, steal his control, and fuck him until he’s spent. But what good is any of this? We’re locked in. I can’t even run to my room. I’d have to masturbate right here, in front of them both, and that’s not something I’m willing to do.

  Unless I have to. Because holy shit, there’s a bomb inside me. All it took was one forbidden kiss — and, somehow, Daniel’s angry reaction to the very thing he provoked.

  My breath is coming fast. All I want is something inside me.

  “Look down,” Kat whispers.

  I do, and see that Daniel has arranged us on the big circle in the room’s middle.

  In the blind spot, where the cameras can’t see.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Bridget

  I blink. My heart pushes blood between my legs, making me throb in a way I’ve never quite felt. There’s nothing left for my brain. I’m dizzy, experiencing something unreal.

  “Spread your legs,” Daniel tells me.

  There’s no question of disobeying. My legs sigh apart as if they’ve grown a brain separate from my normal one. My eyes go to Kat. I’m flushed, but it’s impossible to say if the sensation is embarrassment or arousal. The smallest movement makes me aware of my wetness. The subtle shifts of leg on leg and of fabric against skin sends an electric shiver deep inside me. Unlike the other girls, I wear panties. Still, I can tell exactly where they sit on me, and as my legs spread wider I can feel the covered portion while the sensitive spots where leg meets pelvis expose themselves to naked air. The fabric shifts as I do, and although I’m opening wide in front of them both, I can’t bring myself to admit it beyond the slow, outward scissoring of my knees. I won’t move my hand there, not yet. But I exaggerate one side’s motion as best I can, hoping to shrug the moistening fabric to one side, exposing my slit, feeling the draft caress my sensitive bare skin.

  I’m still watching Kat. She’s to my right, and Daniel is across a tiny opening from us both, hungrily looking up my dress while sitting in his chair like a lord, his black cufflinks catching the light. Kat doesn’t have that view. She’s looking only at my face. Sitting back. Smiling at me.

  “I … ” I say to her. But there are no words. I’m focused on my spread legs. Of the absence there. On attention in need of giving in to a sensation that continues to swell. My pussy feels hot and full, warm against my in
ner thighs. All I’ve done is shift my body. But somehow it’s as if I can already feel Daniel inside me, but it’s wrong, so wrong, because we aren’t alone.

  We’re being interrogated, Kat and me. Challenged somehow.

  Daniel is on his knees. His hands are gently pushing me wider, sliding my dress farther up my legs. He traces a line up each thigh’s interior, first one and then the other. I feel his warmth breath, even though his face is still several feet away.

  “I … ” I say to Daniel, still failing to find my words. Then: “Later,” I manage to say.

  He shakes his head. “Now.”

  “But Kat … ”

  “She can watch,” he says. “But she can’t touch you anymore. Nobody can touch you other than me.”

  I try to protest. He kisses the inside of my thigh, about halfway up. I burn beneath his lips. The impulse to grab his head and pull his face against me is almost too intense to resist.

  “I can’t … with anyone right here … Daniel, we’re in public!”

  He straightens up, his eyes still on my panty-covered pussy. Then he slides his hands up my outer thighs, between my legs and my dress, and takes the waistband of my panties in his hands. To keep us decent — to keep this perversity from continuing — I simply need to keep my ass planted where it is. But I lift and shiver as Daniel peels my panties away, pushing my dress farther upward to leave me exposed.

  Kat reaches down. Touches my inner thigh. Daniel slaps her hand away, and for some reason this thrills me. If it were a man touching me, Daniel would have broken his wrist. He sees the touch for the play Kat meant it to be, but even his smile holds a warning edge. He won’t share me. Not with anyone, not even for a fantasy threesome.

  I try to tell him no. This is wrong. Even if the cameras won’t see us, Kat will. She’s two feet away. She’s now looking down, a witness to all my bare glory. I see her own legs part. She touches her chest, fingers trailing across fabric, nipples erect.